Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition Elizabeth Knox (cheapest way to read ebooks .txt) 📖

brothers were in the kitchen. Mason chuckled when he saw him. “I see you came up for air. I thought you two would be at it for another few days.”

“Magenta is hungry,” Quake told him, feeling everyone’s eyes on him.

Leaning against a counter with a mug of coffee, Beast wore a knowing smirk.

“You two a thing now?” Inferno questioned, nudging Ryder in the ribs.

Padding barefoot across the room, Quake raided the fridge. “A thing?”

Inferno grinned. “You know. Dating.”

“Belle’s girls don’t date,” Quake reminded him. “You know that as well as I do.”

“But you and Magenta have got chemistry,” Beast pointed out. “You don’t just let something like that go.”

Searching out a platter from a cupboard, Quake filled it with cold cooked chicken legs, boiled eggs, cheese, apple slices, four of the breakfast burritos Cookie had made that morning, and a shot glass of hot sauce on the side.

“I didn’t realize you guys were watching,” Quake muttered.

“You two aren’t hard to miss,” Beast drawled.

Mason agreed. “You should ask her out.”

“Right now I need to feed her.”

Quake wrapped flatware in a couple of paper towels to use as napkins, tucked them in his back pocket, and filled two large mugs with coffee, leaving room at the top for sloshing. Balancing the platter on one arm, he caught the two mug handles in his other hand and headed back upstairs.

He realized his planning was lacking when he didn’t have a free hand to open the door. “Magenta?” he called softly, then a little louder when she didn’t respond. “I got breakfast. Can you open the door, please?”

He heard the rustle of sheets, the soft pad of bare feet on the floor, the turn of the knob, and the click of the latch releasing.

The door swung open to reveal Magenta still naked as Eve before the Fall. Her violet eyes lit with delight when she saw his offerings. “Here, let me take the platter. I’ll let you handle the mugs.”

He almost joked that he’d handle her jugs but he bit his tongue, preferring to keep on her good side. He didn’t ever want to sound like she was nothing more than tits and ass to him.

Not seeing anywhere better to put it, Magenta slid the platter to the midline of the bed near the top. Quake set one mug of coffee on her nightstand and rounded the mattress to place his on the other. Pulling the flatware bundle from his pocket, he unfolded it and spread it out beside the platter for their use.

“Dig in,” he told her. “Don’t be shy. I brought plenty for both of us.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. She attacked it like a ravenous maned wolf, refueling her body to offset the deprivations she’d suffered. She’d said that they’d thrown her in a pit. He didn’t know how long she was in it or if they’d given her any food or drink while she was down there. Instincts made him keep his questions to himself. If and when she was ready to talk, he’d be there to listen but he wasn’t going to push her, not when things were still so fresh and raw.

“That was so good,” she sighed once she’d eaten her fill.

Quake smiled. He hadn’t eaten as much as he usually did, content to let her have more, knowing she needed it. “We should do it again sometime.”

The second the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Shit. He’d gone and fucked this up. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut? What was she going to think?

A slash of pink washed across Magenta’s cheekbones. “You mean breakfast?”

“Yeah,” he replied, grateful that she hadn’t read more into it.

“I’d like that.”

Her soft words had his gaze slicing back to meet hers. “You would?”

“Sure.” Biting her lip, she gave him an enigmatic smile.

Quake wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried. “It’s a date—I mean breakfast.”

Magenta laughed. “I’m not sure anything can beat that burrito, though. It was heaven!”

Quake froze with his response on the tip of his tongue. He hadn’t thought anything of a vehicle pulling up to the clubhouse until someone pounded on the front door and the unmistakable voice of Madam Belle demanded entrance.

Magenta looked at him in alarm. Belle was loud enough for her to hear, too. “Shoot,” she muttered, rolling off the bed and finding the charity clothes that she’d worn here. Pulling on her socks and sweatpants, she slipped on her top and wedged her toes into her flip flops. “I gotta go,” she mumbled, already headed for the door.

Catching her mid-stride, he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him for one last kiss laced with the desperation of a man facing an uncertain future. “Please. Wait here just a sec.”

Grabbing a pen, he pushed up her sleeve and wrote his mobile number on the inside of her forearm. “Text me. Let me know how you are. When we can have our next breakfast together.”

Magenta stood patiently, letting him scribble on her skin and hiding it with her sleeve. “I will, I promise.”

She didn’t resist when he pressed another kiss to her lips. “If you need anything, let me know.”

“I gotta go,” she whispered, lips brushing his mouth over and over. “She’ll come looking if I don’t go down.”

Somehow they made it to the hallway door, mouths still locked. Quake wished that she didn’t have to leave. He’d have given anything to have her under him again, moaning his name while he fucked her.

“Bye,” she breathed. Pushing away, she slipped into the hall and raced down the stairs.

Releasing a long sigh, Quake closed the door and rested his forehead against the smooth wood. Magenta wanted to see him again. They were dating . . . sort of. Or breakfasting, if that was even a thing. Whatever you called it, she hadn’t said no.

Gathering the empty mugs, he placed them on top of the platter and returned them to the kitchen downstairs. Magenta and Belle