Page 75 of Snake

“What do you want, Cox?”

The truest answer wasn’t an answer at all, because he didn’t know. At the moment, he wanted things he couldn’t have. But that had to be a momentary impulse. He couldn’t honestly want anything that had anything to do with romance or relationships. Also, even if he did, he couldn’t have anything like that with this woman.

So what the fuck did he want, then?

“I don’t know. Just ... this not to be done yet. When do you leave?”

“We’re booked through tomorrow night.”

That was a day longer than he’d thought. They might have two days together rather than one. But her use of the word ‘we’ reminded him of her boss. Should he tell her anything about their plans with him? Could he?

Obviously also reminded, Autumn said, “I really need to check on Chase. I can’t begin to imagine what he’ll be like this morning.”

Humbled, once Badge gets a minute with him, Cox thought. If he were going to tell her anything, what would he say?

Before he could figure that out, Autumn slipped her arms around his waist and pulled in snugly again. “But I, too, would like not to be done yet.”

Finally. Truth and clarity. She wanted what he wanted. Everything else could wait its fucking turn.

Cox kissed her again. She flung her arms over his neck and climbed up.

This time he got her back to the bed.

Chapter Eighteen

By the time Autumn and Cox left his room dressed and ready to face the day, the clubhouse was moderately crowded with patches, women, some children and teens, and a few adults who weren’t Horde family or ‘club girls.’ Autumn assumed those men not wearing kuttes were what the Horde called ‘hangarounds,’ a term she interpreted as ‘groupies hoping to join.’

Though there was a noticeable downbeat to the morning, certainly formed by worry for Tommy, the overall atmosphere in the clubhouse was one of purposeful activity. Several boxes of donuts and a large basket of mixed fresh fruit stretched across the bar top, and the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee wafted through the air. Women hovered around the bar like bees over a flowerbed, making sure there were sufficient supplies. Lilli Lunden, Adrienne Ness, and Shannon Ryan called out instructions or sent kids and patches on errands. Very quickly it became apparent that all this hubbub was about the groundbreaking ceremony coming up in the afternoon.

As Cox led Autumn to the bar—hand on her lower back—most of the people in the room smiled or nodded or said good morning, or some combination thereof, and Autumn greeted them likewise. Nobody seemed particularly bothered or even interested that she’d spent the night with Cox. That in itself was a powerful sign that the animosity, competition, whatever between her and the Night Horde was finished. They truly were on the same side now.

Did that side also include Chase? She hoped so; she couldn’t not be on the same side as her boss.

Speaking of whom, Chase didn’t seem to be moving around yet, but it was still pretty early, just past nine a.m. Considering how drunk he’d gotten last night, Autumn wasn’t surprised he was still sleeping it off. Besides, she was in no hurry to deal with him. He’d crossed a few big lines last night, big enough that she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t a problem. Her days of playing his antics off as ‘inappropriate’ were over.

That was a bigger deal than MWGP-NHMC relations. Her boss had full-on sexually harassed her last night. In fact, he’d assaulted her. Cox had beaten the hell out of him for it—which was probably another factor in his slow rising today.

Her eyes went immediately to Cox. He stood at the coffee machine behind the bar, pouring coffee into two cups and looking good doing it. Now that she knew the fit of his body with hers, the power in his long legs, his broad back, his firm belly, the gentle strength in his arms as they held her, the rough rasp of his palms as he touched her, her feelings for the man had become even more snarled and complicated. Nothing serious could happen between them, that was both obvious and incontrovertible, and yet ... she wished it weren’t.

If she’d ever before had as fantastic a time with a man as she’d had last night, she couldn’t remember it. Closed up in that basic, personality-free room, just the two of them, stripped bare and totally vulnerable, Daniel Cox had proved himself to be patient, gentle (except when she didn’t want him to be), and sincerely interested in her pleasure.

Last night, he’d been pretty perfect.

When she’d woken alone this morning, with no sign he had any intention of returning—or had been there in the first place—she hadn’t thought him so perfect. She’d been humiliated and so disappointed she’d wept. She’d pulled herself together and decided it was all for the best, but only just.

Then he’d been back. He hadn’t ghosted her, hadn’t ‘hump-and-dumped’ her, none of that. He’d simply been called away, because Tommy had taken a bad turn at the hospital.

And then, Cox had made it all better by taking her back to his bed.

He wanted to ‘play’ together today and tomorrow, until she and Chase had to head back home. Autumn wanted that as well. Actually, the romantic teenager she used to be was doing bedazzled twirls in her chest, wanting much more than a couple of days. But that old version of herself hadn’t lived enough life to understand that love only worked like that in books and movies.

The thirty-four-year-old version of herself standing before a box of Boston cremes had lived a couple decades more real life and understood that all she and Cox could offer each other was a few days of ‘play.’

Ergo, there was not one positive or productive thing to be had by getting heart-eyes over the guy. He was good in bed; end of story. Correction: he was extremely good in bed. Shockingly good in bed. But still: end of story.

“You can have one, you know,” the man in question said, now standing at her side, holding out a cup of coffee. She’d been staring at the donuts before her while her mind fixated on last night. “You can have two. Hell, have three.”

Autumn smiled her thanks as she took the cup from him. Her first sip made her hum; he’d made it precisely right, with one-and-a-skosh spoons of sugar and a heavy splash of milk. When had he noticed how she made her coffee?

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