by Davis, Jen
A landscape print hung, framed, on the pristine cream-colored wall. The beige carpet felt soft beneath the pads of her sore feet.
A prickle of shame climbed inside her. Why wouldn’t he have a nice place?
Because he’s in a nasty-ass biker gang, a sharp voice hissed in the back of her head.
Kane was more than just the club, though, wasn’t he?
The way his brother and his father talked about women—the way they put their fucking club above their family, their jobs, basically everything—it turned her stomach. But the club meant something different to him.
After all, he’d never treated her like trash. Hell, even when he had every reason to hate her, he’d worried about how she was doing after Mike’s crash. Even when he was hurt, even when he thought she kept him from his own child, he gave her a chance to explain. He listened. He was reasonable.
Now he took care of her. He wasn’t going all caveman, beating his chest, trying to track down Nathan, though she had no doubt he wanted to. No, instead he opened his arms and his home to make her feel safe. And it worked. At this moment, she wasn’t the least bit worried about her ex. Maybe he’d seek retribution for this, but not here and not now.
Kane stepped in close behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. “What can I do? What do you need?”
She turned into his arms. His warmth seeped into her bones. “I want to lie down,” she murmured. Her throat protested with the effort to speak.
Lacing his fingers with hers, he led her into his bedroom. His bed nearly took up the entire room.
How many women has he brought here?
She blinked away the mental images assaulting her brain.
“I’m, uh, going to go get changed.” Kane stood next to a tall dresser, clothes in hand. “Help yourself to anything in the top drawer if you want to get more comfortable.” He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and shut the door.
Part of her wanted to dig through every one of his drawers, look under his bed and inside the closet. She wanted proof he wasn’t too good to be true, proof she wasn’t a fool to trust him, but trust didn’t come from proof. So, she opened only the drawer he offered and pulled out a gray t-shirt and a pair of black boxers. Quickly, she stripped down to her panties and donned his clothes. They smelled like him.
So do his sheets, she noted as she climbed in his bed. Did he still prefer sleeping on the left side? Unsure, she situated herself in the middle. It was still early evening, but her body was wrecked.
Minutes later, Kane returned, wearing some sweatpants cut off at the knee and a thick white-T. The black and red ink of the tattoos on his arms contrasted sharply against the fabric. She couldn’t take her eyes off them as he climbed into her right and leaned back against the pillows on the headboard.
Her fingers traced over the various devils and angels in the design. Each one was slightly different from the next, but they were all women, either with wings or a pitchfork and horns. The other arm featured a collage of skulls. “Tell me about them,” she whispered.
He scooted down so she could rest her head on his chest. “The tats?” His chest shook a little as he chuckled. “I wish I had some deep meaning behind them I could share, but I don’t. They aren’t based on any real people or anything. The angels and the devils, I guess, they—women can be either. Or both. Or neither. Obviously, my feelings about the opposite sex are complicated.”
He paused. “No, actually. My feelings about you have been complicated. I didn’t really have feelings about any of the others. They were just…there. Shitty of me, I know, but I never lied to them. I never pretended there could be any kind of future for us. I was too dead inside, you know? I was always looking for something to make me feel alive.”
His palm smoothed over her hair. “I got the first devil a year after we broke up. I got a new one every year. Every October twenty-fifth for twelve years after, some remembered the good times, some didn’t.”
“They’re all about me?” she croaked.
“No. Well, not really. More about how I felt about relationships and women at first. Later, I guess, it got to be a tradition. And the skulls, they’re obviously about the club. I got those whenever I got the urge to go back under the needle. Like what I was saying before, I was looking for ways to feel alive. The sting did it. So did my brothers.”
She itched to stop him there. She didn’t want to talk about the club or hear about it. What if it was the one thing ultimately destined to keep them apart? Once they put all their cards on the table, this fantasy of a happy ever after between them would be ruined. Maybe she needed a boot in the ass, though, a swift kick of reality.
Kane kept talking, oblivious to her internal battle. “I know we’re both tiptoeing around the club thing, and I guess I’m a bastard for bringing it up now, but we need to face reality. Okay?”
She squeezed her eyes closed and nodded against his hard chest.
“My feelings about the club are complicated. All the shit I hated about the culture before, I still hate. The thing is, I’m probably a big fucking hypocrite because I haven’t treated women a whole lot better since I patched in, but it’s different with you. I have never and will never treat you the way the club treats the old ladies.”
He pulled back to look at her face. “If it was only about my dad, I would walk away without ever looking back, but some of the other guys, like Cue Ball and Frank, they’re what family is supposed to be. They’re more than friends to me; they’re my brothers, Mandy. They picked me up every time I fell down. Scott too. They would lay down their lives for me. What kind of brother—what kind of person—would I be if I pushed them aside the minute you came back into my life?”
She didn’t even try to answer. A thousand words wouldn’t have been enough to hash it all out, and it hurt like hell to try to say any at all. She shook her head and touched her throat with a frown.
“I know.” He hugged her to him again. “The sad thing is, even if you could talk, I don’t have all the answers. There are days I want out, and it doesn’t even have anything to do with you. Sometimes, I just want to get away from all the stupid fucking choices they’re making, because I can see they’re headed for a disaster, and they won’t listen. I keep thinking I can save them, but every time I try, it’s like I’m beating my head against the wall.”
Two truths shone like beacons in her head. One, Kane wanted out of the club, and two, the only way their relationship could survive was if he made the decision to leave on his own. The way he was talking, it might actually happen. She tipped her head to kiss the spot on his chest above his heart, then burrowed into his warmth.
“Let’s get some sleep.” He flipped the switch above his nightstand, casting the room in darkness.
There would be plenty of time to talk tomorrow. She relaxed into his arms, and for the first time she allowed herself a glimmer of hope. Maybe this time they’d get the happy ending they were long overdue.
***
Amanda woke up with a radiating heat against her back and a rock-hard dick nestled against her ass. She squirmed against the iron grip locking her in a man’s arms. Tattooed arms. Kane.
He groaned, his breath hot on her neck, and his hand moved to cup her breast. The touch sent a zing of awareness between her legs.
How many times had they made love this way? Him pushing in slowly from behind, his fingers plucking her nipples or strumming her clit. There were nights she dreamed of it, waking with his name on her lips and her own hand beneath her panties.
The reality was so much better, even without the penetration she was already craving. But it didn’t have to stop here. She covered his hand with hers and dragged it down to where she wanted to feel him most.
Kane didn’t disappoint. His fingers slid beneath the silky fabric of her panties, over her mound, to the slick slit beneath. His middle finger parted her folds. “Fuck. You’re so wet.”
She tilted her hips toward his hand. “It’s what you do to me.” She moaned as h
e slid his finger inside her. “It’s what you’ve always done to me.”
The pressure against her ass intensified with his answering thrust. “Feel what you do to me.”
She pumped her hips forward and back, riding his hand and rubbing on his impressive cock. “I’d rather feel it inside me.”
In a heartbeat, his hand was gone, and he was tugging off his clothes. When his dick pressed against her moments later, only the thin silk of her panties separated them.
Looping her thumbs in the elastic, she slid the drenched material down her legs. His heated flesh was already sliding between her lips, teasing her with his thickness, and it took every drop of resolve she had to whisper, “Condom,” rather than impaling herself on his arousal.
A knock sounded at the front door.
Kane slid his tongue along her pulse. “Ignore it.” His fingers toyed with her from the front, as he continued to torment her with the promise of fulfillment from behind.
Another knock.
She groaned in frustration.
“Shh,” he murmured. “They’ll go away. Just—”
They both froze with the sound of the deadbolt turning.
“Kane. Why aren’t you answering the door, brother?”
No. Anyone but Scott.
Kane grabbed the comforter and yanked it up to cover their bodies seconds before his dickhead brother sauntered in the room. “You sleeping off a bender or—holy shit—you brought home a piece of ass last night?” The laughter died in his throat as his eyes met hers. The smile on his face twisted into something ugly. “Not just any piece of ass. The piece of ass.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “Your Highness.”
“You can let yourself out the same way you came in,” Kane growled.
“And miss the opportunity to catch up on old times?” He shook his head. “No way.” He parked himself on the foot of the bed. “So, have you managed to pull the stick out of your ass sometime in the past decade, or is it trapped up there forever?”
A vicious kick from Kane knocked him off the mattress, but he popped right back onto his feet with a dark chuckle. “C’mon now, little brother, you know I speak the truth. Getting ditched by Princess Bitch here was the best thing that ever happened to you. But maybe her tight ass is good for something you never told me about.”
Kane sprang from the bed and lunged at his brother. “Get the fuck out of here before I forget we’re family, Scott.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time, with her in the picture.” Despite his big talk, Scott backed out of the room, ducking Kane’s swing.
Both men completely ignored the fact Kane was stark naked. She could not. His physique was damn near perfect. Broad shoulders and sculpted arms framed a strong back that tapered down to his waist in a vee. The muscles in his ass flexed as he walked, and his legs had a thickness they didn’t carry years ago.
She barely even noticed the tattoos anymore, though the relatively empty expanse of skin on his back was a bit of a surprise. There was only…
For a moment her heart stopped. Then it started racing.
MANDY was written in thick, bold print across the expanse of his back. Each letter looked to be the size of her palm, and the word stretched over his shoulder blades.
Distantly, she heard raised voices echo from the next room. Kane was pissed; Scott sounded like he was mocking him. But she couldn’t focus on their words.
How long had he had it?
Why? Why would he do such a thing?
Even as she asked herself the questions, she knew the answers.
He loved her. He’d always loved her. Even when she broke his heart. Even now. She knew it like she knew her own name. Like she knew the sun would rise every morning and set every night. Kane Hale was as constant as the northern star. And she was so very ashamed she’d ever doubted him.
The club was not who he was, and even if it took time for him to figure it out, she knew it now. She’d wait.
When he returned to the room, the full-frontal view wiped out all ability to think. There were no tattoos on his torso, only muscular pecs and washboard abs, both dusted with dark hair. His dick hung heavy between his legs, all signs of arousal gone, but still impressive.
His gruff voice snapped her attention up to his face. “I’m so fucking sorry. He should have never spoken to you like that.” His eyes darkened. “Or seen you like this.”
Crap. She was naked too. At least the blanket covered most of her. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen.”
He grunted as he bent over to grab his underwear off the floor. “There’s no excuse.”
Why was he getting dressed?
“I have to go.” He buttoned his jeans, then sat beside her on the bed and took her hand. “God knows I’d rather stay here with you.”
So, do it.
He sighed. “But there’s club business I need to give my attention.” His scowl softened the longer he stared at her face. “You look so right, here in my bed. You belong here. With me.”
Damn right she did.
“Stay as long as you want.” He let go of her hand, then dropped a silver key into her palm. “Scott can’t let himself in anymore; I want you to have this. Be here any time. All the time. We’re going to figure this all out, Mandy, as long as we do it together.”
The image of her name on his back flashed through her mind, and her fingers curled around the metal in her palm. “We’ll figure it out,” she whispered.
He gave her a small smile, then stood and covered his beautiful chest with a T-shirt. “My brother is waiting outside. I’ll call you, okay?” His gaze raked over her one more time, and he strode out of the room. Moments later, she heard the door close behind him.
This wasn’t going to be easy. Nathan was going to be an issue. Scott. The club. Her father.
But they would figure out how to deal with it all. Together, they would find a way to put all their demons behind them.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kane
Scott had an obnoxious smirk on his face when Kane walked out of the apartment. Like he took pleasure in forcing him out of bed with his girl.
Where was the guy who gave up two months of Saturdays to help him rebuild his engine last spring?
“You’re an asshole.” The idea he had to ride bitch behind his brother only made his irritation burn brighter, which was quite a feat, considering how pissed he felt walking away from a naked Mandy.
They’d been so close to making love this morning. He’d had no doubt she’d wanted him. Her body had been so wet and welcoming. She’d looked at him the same way she did the first time they were together.
She was right fucking there, and Scott had to ruin it.
He growled as he climbed on the bike behind his brother, and the bastard had the nerve to laugh.
“Stop whining, man. It’s only pussy; it’s not like you can’t hit it later.” Scott fired up the engine and pulled out onto the street. The wind and the purr of the motor made talking impossible on the way to the clubhouse, but once they arrived, Kane had plenty to say.
“You enjoyed being a blowhard back there. You’ve never liked Mandy. You made it clear back in the day. You probably cheered in the hospital waiting room when she dumped me.” He shoved at his brother’s shoulder as he climbed off. His adrenaline still needed an outlet after the shit her ex pulled at the work site.
“Aw, fuck you. You always put that gash before your family. Who put your sorry ass back together when she dropped you like yesterday’s garbage? Me.” Scott stalked toward him on the sidewalk. “Hell no, I don’t like her. She’s a rich, entitled cunt who thinks she is better than everyone else. Everyone, including you.”
He cocked back his fist, ready to pound Scott’s mouth shut, but his arm was caught in an iron grip.
“I don’t know what’s going on here,” Cue Ball rumbled, “but y’all need to stop. We’ve got work to do.”
That’s right. Malcolm had insisted on a club meeting, but Scott h
adn’t said why. He relaxed in his friend’s grip. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
The rest of the crew already sat around the table when they walked into the chapel.
“So glad you could join us,” Malcolm muttered. “Now, let’s call this meeting to order.” The low rumble of chatter died. “My son and I have been talking about the intersection of our two current business ventures and how one could impact the other.”
Thank God. Malcolm was finally taking his warning seriously.
“We’ve been running guns for the Russians for a while now, and though business there isn’t what it used to be, it’s a relationship I feel we should maintain. I’ve been thinking over the best way to do it, and Scott had an idea.”
Scott? Aw, fuck.
“We should offer to keep selling our guns to Ace and his crew.”
Kane shook his head mutely. This was exactly what they shouldn’t do. Unfortunately, no one cared what he thought. He cursed himself for not taking the time to talk to each and every brother ahead of the vote, try to convince them one on one. At least this time, his vote would be heard. “I vote nay.”
A dozen heads swiveled sharply in his direction.
“Why not, brother?” Cue Ball tilted his head. “Sounds like a win-win.”
“Because Sergei doesn’t want us in the drug business.” He turned to Frank. “He made it very clear during our last run.”
“You think so, Frank?” Scratch asked, stroking his long goatee.
Frank shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn’t really hear much of what he said. I was checking out the guns when he talked to Kane.”
His face heated. “You questioning my word, Scratch? Since when have I ever lied to you?”
Now it was the older man’s turn to look uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat. “No, I’m not questioning your word. I’m only wondering if you really understood him right.”