GREEN: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 13) by Nicole James

Author:Nicole James [James, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nicole James
Published: 2021-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sunday morning

Sara—

The morning sun is streaming in the window when I open my eyes and find that sometime during the night Irish carried me to the bed. I look over at him. He’s sound asleep. Perfect time to go exploring, besides, I’d kill for a cup of caffeine. I smile; press a kiss to his shoulder, and ease from the bed. I grab his white dress shirt and slip it on, doing up one of the studs between my breasts, then pull on my discarded panties and tiptoe from the room.

I float silently down the carpeted stairs and find my way to the kitchen. I start a pot of coffee, and peer out the window to the back while it brews. There’s a metallic green custom chopper style motorcycle parked out there, as well as a shiny black one that looks more suited to handling long distances. It’s bigger and has saddlebags.

I move toward the door and step outside on the small back porch to get a closer look. I lean my palms on the railing, and peer up at the clear blue sky.

The door opens behind me, and then arms slip around my waist, and I’m pulled against a solid wall of a warm bare chest. I reach back with my hands and grab his ass while Irish dips his mouth to nuzzle my neck and ear.

“You’re up early.”

“You have a motorcycle.”

“Count again.”

“You have two motorcycles.”

“Which one’s your favorite?”

“The black one. It’s pretty.”

“Babe, it’s awesome, it’s fast, it’s badass, but don’t say it’s pretty.”

I giggle.

“Want to go for a ride?” he asks.

“More than anything.”

“First we eat.” He throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. I’m carried back inside and set on the kitchen counter. Then Irish proceeds to make me breakfast.

I sit and watch while he pours me a cup of coffee and carries it to me. Then he fries up bacon and scrambles eggs, and between times cracking and stirring, he kisses me.

After we eat, Tim loads the plates into a dishwasher, refusing my help. He swats my ass with a dishtowel. “Quit distracting me.”

“How am I distracting you?” I ask. “I’m just standing here.”

“Exactly. You in my shirt, that’s all you gotta do.”

I grin and pop a grape in my mouth. “Fine, I’ll take my coffee and check out your old house.”

“You do that.”

I wander around and end up in the front parlor, running my hand along the mantle of the stunning fireplace. There’s a chess table and two chairs in front of one of the windows. I pick up the knight, and study the beautiful piece, remembering how his grandfather taught us both to play.

The floor creaks behind me, and I see Irish leaning a shoulder against the frame of the archway, sipping on his coffee. My eyes run down his shirtless body, his sweatpants slung low on his hips, and all those beautiful abs on display.

I flush, and his eyes sparkle, having caught me. Turning back to the board, I set the piece in its place.

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