Filed to story: Cora and Gunner MC Story Book PDF Free
“I know I broke the rules, demanding you to come, but I was going to kill her if you didn’t make it in time.”
“Don’t sweat it, I will investigate how she got back onto the property and into your room. Where’s Cora?” Oddball’s calming voice soothed my anger, and knowing he wouldn’t let this rest and would investigate made me feel a lot better.
“I am hoping she’s safe and in the bathroom. I haven’t been able to move and check, because if Cora’s in here hurt, Kit would have been a corpse by the time you arrived. I was trying not to kill her,” I replied. As much as I wanted to go check on Cora, see if she was in there, I had to wait for Oddball to finish his questioning of me. It was one of the hardest things I had to do lately, but protocol had me standing, waiting.
“Go look, call me if you need me, I will get someone to bring up clean linen.” Oddball left the room. I turned and, in my anger, slammed the door shut, harder than I intended.
When I opened the door to the bathroom, Cora looked up at me. She was putting oil or cream, or something, on her legs, and acted like she had no clue what had transpired in the bedroom. Maybe she didn’t know.
“You look angry. Did I do something wrong?” Cora’s sweet, innocent voice floated up, dispelling the anger that was still raging below the surface.
“Kit was on our bed. Has someone come to change the bedding? I don’t want her stinking on our bed.” I felt the anger trying to rise again, but I pushed it back down. It was over and dealt with; there was no need to keep getting angry over it.
“I thought I heard someone come in, and about two minutes later, I heard the door again, and you shouted. In here, it was muffled, so I didn’t know exactly what was going on. But what could she have done in two minutes?” I was so relieved it was only two minutes and that Cora was in there doing her legs, and whatever else a woman does. If I had taken longer, who knows? Cora could have left the bathroom, or Kit decided to take a shower. Both would have been trouble.
I decided to be honest, no good hoping for a good relationship. Suppose I shouldn’t hide things that don’t need to be hidden. I need Cora to learn to trust me, and to do that, I need to be open where I can; some areas are not to share, and I hope she learns to understand that.
“On our bed, naked, fingering herself.” I spat back, the words tasting bad in my mouth.
“Wow, all that in two minutes, she’s a quick worker, not an image I want in our bedroom. Glad I didn’t investigate who had arrived. I was expecting you to join me, but when it didn’t happen, I thought maybe you had other things you needed to do first.” Cora didn’t sound affected by the action in the other room, good.
“What were you doing?” Watched as she put the lid back on a tube of cream.
“I shaved my legs; they were starting to look like a thick forest, and I tried to feel human again. I had been on the road for three days, driving here, and then that incident happened. My poor legs had gone over a week past when I would normally shave them, and I needed to feel human again, if that made sense.” It did, and it didn’t, but I was happy, she told me, without feeling embarrassed about it; that was progress.
“Need to get changed and ready for the door to open soon, I need to be on duty.” I moved past her, sitting on the toilet seat. I stripped off, leaned in to turn the water on, and climbed into the shower, looking back at Cora before focusing on getting cleaned up. What I needed to do tonight, and how to mix work with pleasure. My job as an enforcer had never been an issue till now, when I would rather be with Cora than watch the door.
Cora was no longer in the bathroom when I climbed out of the shower. I quickly dried my body and walked out of the bathroom, drying my hair. I went around to see all the bedding by the door, but the bed was bare. Guessing about Kit and what she was doing affected Cora more than she let on. I don’t blame her, but how did she manage with her injury?
A knock on the door had me moving to it, placing the towel around my waist as I went. A girl handed me bedding, and I pointed to the ones on the floor, which she quickly picked up and placed in a trolley.
“Thank you,” Cora called out. The girl turned to look at Cora, her eyes widening; then she looked at me, blushed, and looked back at Cora.
“You’re welcome.” Before rushing away. The kid’s blush had me chuckling, because I had opened the door in only a towel, and that would be spread around the club girls in no time.
Cora POV
A woman in our bed, playing with herself.
What kind of people do that?
I have heard of peeping toms, looking through windows, or taking your panties off the clothes line to masturbate against, but this was beyond my imagination. I am a nurse from the casualty room. I have seen and heard a lot of things, seen girls and men have things stuck inside them, their play toys, and other things and let’s not go there, but little scares or can surprise me.
Gunner took a quick shower while I put the sheets and blankets op the bed, got dressed in jeans and a shirt, put my hair up into a ponytail, and put on my joggers. Gunner came out in just a towel, and my mouth went dry at the sight of him, and I had to lick my lips to moisten them.
“Don’t do that,” Gunner growled through clenched teeth.
“Do what?” I asked, tearing my eyes away from his magnificent chest, and to his face.
“Licking your lips and sucking on your bottom lip, we don’t have time for what I want to do to you, so stop giving me ideas.” Gunner was deepened, sending tingles down my body and pooling in my groin, my lady parts, throbbed with the idea of action, and I had to squeeze my legs together in an attempt to get rid of the feeling, but it just made me want him the more.
Gunner was dressed in black jeans, a shirt, and boots, his cut on last. Finishing the look, it was sad to see that body getting covered up. His hair was still messed up, and his beard still glistened with water droplets. He grabbed the towel and rubbed it over his beard and hair, then ran a comb through both his head and his beard. The end result was good, but I preferred the messy look.
Gunner picked me up, not letting me use the crutches tonight. He said there were too many people around, making it dangerous, and he could trip and fall. I think he likes to carry me. An assertive, claiming, I don’t understand. Yet. With sure, quick steps, he walked to the door, held me with his good arm, opened the door, and closed it behind him, ensuring it was locked.
“How’s the shoulder?” I asked, wondering how he could be carrying me so effortlessly, when it was too soon for most men to be even using his arm yet, I bet I would need a whole week before I could use it with any strength.
“Fine, not the first time I put it out. I was told when I dislocated it as a kid, that that shoulder might be weakened and pop out, it takes a good hit, like being bucked off my bike to do it. It’s not that weak, I train extra hard on that arm to keep it strong.” Gunner wasn’t even out of breath as he talked to me while walking. I put my face to his neck as we descended the stairs, and it looked scary. I knew he wouldn’t drop me, and it’s all me. I don’t even like those rides that lift you up and drop you really fast; it’s not vertigo, but it’s still not something I’m keen on.
Once on the ground floor, he walked towards the front door. You could see a small wall separating club members from visitors. He walked to a nice-looking sofa and carefully placed me on it. Leaving me there, he headed to the food table, grabbed a plate and selected a variety of foods, a bottle of water, and returned.
“I have to work, stay here. If you need anything, signal me or one of the prospects, and they will get it for you.” He handed me the plate of food and left me sitting there. I guess sooner or later, more club members will sit in this area. But for now, it was just me and a plate of food.
I recognised the pies I made, and what Scones had done. That was nice. I started eating as I watched club members hanging around the bar. A few ladies came and sat in this area, but none came to talk to me or introduce themselves. A couple of ladies sat nearby and spoke behind their hands, glancing at me, and when they saw I was watching, they turned away. Nothing new there, just like starting somewhere new, and no one knows you, and no one has the guts to come to you and find out who you are, more fun to speculate.
The doors flew open, and a sea of people entered. I watched them move about; some gravitated to the bar, others, finding a tall table with a small round top, sat around it on barstools. Some are happy to look around, as if hunting for someone. Most appeared to be familiar with the place, and a live band started setting up in one corner, with a small wooden dance floor in front. Large speakers were dotted around the room, and a large collection of them was stacked up next to the band, and four were on the floor in front of the stage. I could see that this was going to get very loud very fast.
My plate was empty; I was hungrier than I thought; the band had started to play; and my ears were already ringing from the loud sound. The music I was familiar with, and I tapped my foot on the song, and softly sang to it.
