Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

DIGG

She moans like a cam girl performing for viewer pleasure while she eats. Little sighs and mumbled enjoyments accompany each bite so obliviously I know they're not meant for me. Too bad, they're my sounds now, anyway. All her sounds are mine now. They have been for each of the four days since my release from jail while I've observed her.

Not that she has any idea. I've been in her home. Her car. Her office. Everywhere Frankie exists, I've been present like a wraith shadowing her footsteps and ensuring her wellbeing. I haven't even been home yet. Not to my rooms at the compound or to my MC brothers. Shit, they probably don't even know I'm out yet.

I'll have to face the music with them soon, but I made a promise to Hyram Holt to protect his sister. It's just my luck the sister ticks every box I've spent decades pretending not to have. Sure, I'd let Hyram have his misconceptions about my sexuality. It made him feel safer in entrusting his sister to a man he thought was gay, an assumption he'd arrived at when he caught me silently straining to hear the sounds of the men in cells near ours pulling their puds.

It wasn't about who I listened to. It was what I heard. The sound of pleasure, authentic and raw, even in such a depressing place as jail… That's what I listened for.

Francesca, Frankie I remind myself, looks up from her food once she's nearly finished. The orange juice I poured for her is nearly gone, but the coffee is untouched.

"I only let myself have one cup a day since caffeine's not good for the baby. Sorry to waste what you made me," she says.

"You can drink it. I blended half-caff with regular, so you can still have your afternoon pick up. Try it. You won't taste the difference." Every morning, I've watched her through the glass of her balcony window while she stared at the coffeemaker on the counter.

It was obvious how badly she wanted a cup to wake herself up. She put the baby ahead of her own wants, and that's not something I expected. It was her determination to be as healthy as possible, even down to denying herself a simple coffee, that drove my decision to keep her.

I know damn well how problematic it is that I judge all women by the failures of my mother. Walking red flag? Here I am. It's never been a problem since I gave females a wide berth. At least, until my brothers started bringing home women to keep. The old ladies claimed by Ghost Born men are nothing like my bitch mother.

Ace, smartass little shit that he is, says my red flags make me toxic, but he loves me anyway. If anybody understands my aversions, it's that kid. The youngest of us, Ace had to go through some pretty dark shit all on his own, and he's got the scars to prove it.

I guess if I can claim a single green flag, which I only know are actual things because of the kid, it's that I've never dragged anyone else into my toxicity. Sure, I have female clients who contract Redemption Build, my construction company. But beyond that? I have always kept a distance between women and me.

Until now. Watching Frankie. Hearing her. I feel decades of aversion withering and crumbling away. Maybe, Blakely, Blu, and Abbie started the process, showing me that women aren't always conniving abusers. My gut tells me Francesca is good the way they are.

"Mmm, oh this is… This is so, so good," she moans over the first sip of coffee, and my ears hum with the sensual pleasure. My dick's iron hard down the leg of my jeans. A lick of irritation sparks alongside the lust. It's bullshit that this curvy bombshell can pipe me up without even trying.

I bite my tongue and keep my fists clenched tight under the table. My instincts may urge me to trust the innate goodness of the girl, but habits developed over a lifetime have me waiting to see what happens when push comes to shove. She won't like what has to happen next, and how she responds will prove whether she's like my brother's women or my piece of shit mother and the foster bitches who saw my size and early growth spurt as an easy target.

"Thank you for making breakfast," she says, once the bagel is almost gone and her oatmeal bowl is empty. So polite, though I can tell having her routine thrown off by my surprise appearance is messing with her. One very obvious thing I've discovered after watching her for even just a few days is Francesca Holt is a woman whose daily rituals are sacrosanct.

"You're welcome. I'll clean up in here while you go pack a bag. I'll arrange for everything to be boxed up and brought to my place later."

"B-boxed up? W-why?" she stammers.

"Security in this building is shit. You and the baby will be safer at the Ghost Born compound. Besides, I've been…away…for too long. There's shit I need to handle." I don't leave room for argument. Not because I don't care what she wants, but because when it comes to keeping her safe, what she wants is irrelevant.

"I can't change your mind about this, can I?" Resignation is clear in the set of her jaw and the narrow glare she gives me.

"No chance of that. Now, don't forget to take care of things before we leave. You know your morning isn't complete until you have your orgasm." Another command with no space for arguing. Every day, I've listened with my dick strangling itself and balls so blue it feels as if I could die from unspent jizz poisoning as she rubs one out after she finishes breakfast.

Those sexy moans she made while she ate ain't got shit on the cumversation my dick wants to have with her noisy pussy. The way her fingers squelch and squish between her lips to slap at what I imagine is a hard little pearl of a clit is the single hottest symphony my auralist ass has ever heard.

"Excuse you. What? " Even her outrage is fucking cute.

"Today's already messing with your routine, Cuteness. We need to do everything we can to keep to the schedule, so your hormones don't get outta whack. So run along and pet that kitty, so we can move along with the day. Be nice and loud for me, so I know you're being a good girl."

"I, you, I, I, you can't say things like that!" she sputters.

That she's so horny she can't begin a day without an orgasm is normal according to the pregnancy books I've read on my phone while she works.

Yeah, the kid thing freaks me out. None of my brothers have knocked up their old ladies, yet. To be fair, Konrad's so busy helping his boy, Grey, and his girl, Blu, find their footing as free humans. I don't think spawning is even on his radar. As for Jax and Cam, it's hard to imagine either of them being willing to share their women with anyone else, even their own baby. So to say I've been needing a crash course on pregnancy and babies is an understatement.

Fortunately for me, every day when Frankie gets to her boring as fuck office job, I have time to read. She hardly gets up from her chair at all, tied to that depressing cubicle like a convict bound on a chain gang. However, I feel as if the books have only given me a small fraction of the knowledge I'll need. I think there'll be plenty of time to learn all the things I need to know, since she's not going back to that job. But I'm waiting to inform her of that until after she's orgasmed and relaxed.