She snorted out a laugh. “That’s very pragmatic advice, Ghost, thank you.”
I shrugged. “No problem.”
She reached over and patted my arm, saying, “Ghost, if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
“As a therapist?”
“No, as someone who’d like to be your friend.” Her smile was—I could think of only one word to describe it—brave. “My dad lost everything, our livelihoods, all of it went down the toilet, and I learned along the way how few friends I actually have.”
“We’re in the same boat,” I admitted. “I don’t think the other women like me.”
“Which other women?”
“The ones like Tink.”
She sniffed. “Well, I don’t like them either.”
“Tell Giulia that you, how did Katina say it, karate chopped Tink’s hand. She’ll be fast friends with you in no time.”
Tiffany’s brows raised at that. “Really?”
I grinned as I thought about how bloodthirsty Giulia was for one so small. “Oh, without a shadow of a doubt.”
Tiffany
This wasn’t my home.
Not really.
He’d called it ‘our place’ before, but it hadn’t been. It was his. It still was. But damn, it felt good to be back here.
Nothing was how I’d have decorated, but everything matched and felt right in here. The way he had the massive armchairs instead of a sofa to watch TV on, the modern kitchen and stove that, somehow, helped me not burn things. The squeaky front door screen, and the wooded copses that I could see from the kitchen window.
“Where are you?”
I snorted. “Not that many rooms for you to look in to find me,” I hollered back.
“Saves me time.”
“You’re all about efficiency, are you, hmm?” I called out, then, when he made an appearance in the living room, I waved a spatula at him, a part of me still taken aback by how swiftly he’d shaved his beard off. His cheeks were as smooth as a baby’s butt now, where before he’d been all lumberjack—surprisingly cute with it too. “I’m making something to eat,” I informed him.
He arched a brow, but his interest was clear. “What are you making?”
“Quesadillas.” I didn’t wait for him to reply, just twisted on my heel and returned to the stove.
I’d stacked pesto with cheese to make a delicious quesadilla—I’d already eaten one while he was doing whatever had taken him so damn long in the garage.
Of course, I knew that was his way of giving me time to cool off.
I didn’t blame him.
I didn’t.
But the rage that had filled me at the sight of that bitch touching him?
Irrational.
Mostly because she’d been the one I’d seen him finger fuck that first night.
I winced at the memory, hurt filling me, even though it wasn’t his fault.
I knew that.
That was why I considered these dumb feelings irrational, because I wasn’t about to get jealous over women in his past, not when I had men in mine. Sure, not as many people as he did, but some.
I was no innocent, and I didn’t want to be. I sure as hell didn’t want him to be inexperienced, because what he could do with his body was beyond epic, and it made me cream my panties when I thought of all the stuff he’d learned along the way.
Lessons that came to my benefit.
But I was still riled up, still on edge, and he’d known it.
It pissed me off though, because I’d missed him so fucking much, and a few hours after he was back, I was spoiling shit.
The thought had me downing the spatula and putting my hands on the counter to grip them.
My temper wasn’t that difficult to rile, but I was a very sensible person, preferring to rationalize something rather than argue for the sake of it.
But these emotions were complicated. These feelings inside me were hurt and anguish and fear for the future.
I was going to get fat.
Trixie, Dixie, Lixie, whatever the fuck her name was, well, she wasn’t going to get fat, was she?
Me? I was about to blow up like a balloon.
Why would he stay with me then?
Christ, I really needed to not be so insecure. Not only was it fucking unsexy as hell, but the truth was, I wasn’t this person.
Not usually.
The trouble was, I was vulnerable.
In more ways than just the situation with Sin. My family was decimated, and now, for the first time, I was falling for a guy who could have any pussy he wanted in the clubhouse.
But I wasn’t this woman.
This pansy assed moaning cow who took shit lying down.
Earlier, I’d smacked that bitch’s hand, and I’d do it again. They’d learn, and they’d realize that I wasn’t going to let them touch my man without paying for it.
Him too.
The thought solidified in my gut, a bit like the first quesadilla I had in my stomach, and when he approached me, I didn’t turn around, just let him slide his arm around my waist. Of course, he surprised me.
He grabbed the tip of my stubby ponytail and tugged it all the way back so that my head rolled on my neck and I was peering straight up at him.
“When did you get so tall?” I asked him softly, before he brushed his lips over mine from that angle—looming over me like Lurch from the Addams Family or something.
His lips moved. “You only just noticed? Damn, my pride hurts.”
“Yeah? I can elbow you in the belly. That’d hurt more.”
He snorted. “Yeah, you could, but you won’t.”
“Why won’t I?”
“Because you know I’ll fuck your ass and spank it—”
I moved my elbow, getting ready to dig the pointy bit right in his gut, but when I did, he grabbed my arm and laughed. “Feed me first, woman. I haven’t eaten in hours.”
“You mean pussy juice didn’t sustain you?” I granted him a mock gasp. “I’m stunned.”
“You can’t survive on pussy juice and cum.” He sighed. “I researched it when I was a kid.”
“Far as I remember, from the scientific world of Facebook, there was a meme floating around with all the calories and nutritional info on jizz.”
“Babe, hate to break it to you, but as fine as this ass is, and as much as I want to bone the ever-loving fuck out of you, I ain’t gonna be able to sustain you on cum.”
I snickered, unable to stop myself, and because my head was rocked back the way it was, the snicker came out as a weird snort. When he let go of my hair, I let out a raucous chuckle, as did he, because that snort? Meme worthy.
The pair of us laughed our asses off, but as we did, his hands were on my hips, my ass nestled against his front, and truthfully?
I’d never felt closer to a guy than I did right at that moment.
Unable to stop myself, I turned around once I’d stopped giggling, nestled into him, and on a sigh, apologized, “I’m sorry for being uptight.”
Like usual, when I thought he’d rub salt in the wound or get mad, he didn’t. His calm retort soothed me in ways he’d never know. “You’re not. It’s a big adjustment.” He shrugged, then reached up and tugged on a strand of my hair that had fallen loose from my ponytail with his tussle. “You handled yourself brilliantly.”
“I did? I could have really hurt her wrist.”
“I said no. She could have backed away, but she didn’t. Now she knows otherwise. Law of the jungle in that clubhouse, angel. Remember that, and you’ll be okay.”
“That seems harsh.”
“It is. Hard life, but we’re a family too.” He reached up and bopped me on the nose, his eyes filled with a kind smile that made me feel like my heart was being embraced. “And I wasn’t necessarily talking about you. You’re different.”
“I am? How come?”
“Because you’re not a clubwhore. You’re my baby momma and you’re gonna be my Old Lady.”
I swallowed a
t that, and my eyes narrowed a little as I stared at him, trying to burrow into his gaze, figure out what he was thinking.
And what I saw had hope filling me.
I sank into him, trusting him to support me.
“You mean it?”
“Of course, I do. Was going to brand you as mine, even before you told me you were pregnant. Was just waiting until I could get home.”
“Or haul me down there?”
“Yeah, or haul you down there.” His lips twisted. “I knew you wouldn’t have liked Ohio, so I didn’t focus on that as an end result. Knew you’d want to be close to your family and Lily too, so I figured out a way. It’s done now, and I’m home to stay.”
I swallowed back all the emotions that were flooding me and, finally, I had no choice but to just rest my forehead against his pec and whisper, “I want you to be my Old Man too.”
“No teasing?” he jibed, but it was tender. Not mean. “No joking around?”
He knew I tended to ease uncomfortable or awkward moments with humor, but nothing about this was either of those things.
It was perfect.
This was his way of getting down on one knee and asking me to marry him.
Though I wanted to blame them on hormones—I wasn’t sure if you could do that when you were only two months pregnant though, and shit, I really needed to get some books on pregnancy—my eyes pricked with tears.
But they felt good.
Different than the ones I’d been shedding since Daddy had died.
I released a shaky breath, feeling his support, his strength, and let it sink into me.
No, we hadn’t had the most orthodox of starts, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t have an unorthodox ending. A happy one. And that pretty much summed us up.
Happily.
Ever.
After.
Nine
Link
“You’re what?”
My lips twitched as I stared at the woman, who sat like she had a bunch of ice cubes in her ass, as she shifted on her feet like she was going to stand.
Tiffany had straightened her shoulders, and even though Sin was still slouched back against the dining chair like I was, I knew he’d leap into the fight if necessary, but it wasn’t necessary.
From the chatter whispering through the clubhouse, Tiffany had the balls to stand up for herself.
I was glad too. Sin had made a reputation for himself, one that was almost as strong as mine. I was surprised that he was willing to stick it through with Tiff, but I was glad for both their sakes.
They said a rake was impossible to reform, but it depended on the woman who they chose to take to their side.
I knew for myself that you could glut yourself on pussy without it ever surpassing only the physical.
I hadn’t even fucked my Old Lady yet, and damn, every time she made me come?
It was like my brain was boiling inside my skull.
Sure, the thought was gross, but that was how it felt.
Like I was almost dying. Like every part of me was being rattled up in some kind of pressure cooker.
It was so bad—well, so fucking good—that I was nervous about when I finally did get inside her, because sweet fuck, I wasn’t sure whether I’d survive or not.
Still, what a way to go.
“You can’t be serious,” Laura whispered, her voice going from loud to quiet as she stared at her daughter.
“I’m deadly serious.”
“You’re pregnant too? Dear God, what is this? Some kind of gag? Are you doing this for TikTok, dear?” She blew out a relieved breath, then fluttered back into her seat. “Yes, that’s what it is, isn’t it? You’re playing a joke on me. A, what do you call it? A prank?”
“No, Mom, I’m not,” Tiff said softly, but the hurt on her face was clear. “This isn’t a joke. I love him, Mom, and nothing you do or say will change that.”
Sin grunted. “Damn, Tiff, you didn’t think I’d like to hear those words for the first time when we were alone?”
When he could bone her.
I snorted at the thought, and merely grinned when he glowered at me.
She bit her bottom lip. “It’s the truth, doesn’t matter where I say it or when or to whom. But Mom needs to understand that this isn’t a rebellion, this isn’t me acting up because of Daddy—”
“Dear God, what he’d say about this!” Laura whispered, sounding so dramatic that I thought she actually belonged on one of those high regency drama shows.
I sometimes caught Lily watching it on Netflix, but she always switched it off really fast.
I swear, she acted like she was watching porn. Of course, I’d have been interested in watching that with her.
Humming at the thought of eating her out while she watched porn, and wondering if that would trigger her, I switched my focus onto my woman, who was watching the interaction between mother and daughter as though it was a match at Wimbledon.
She was concerned.
I could feel it across the table, and I hated that, enough for me to reach forward, snag her hand in mine, and murmur, “Excuse me, Laura, but this is unnecessary. Your daughter has brought her partner over to introduce you to him, she didn’t bring home the plague.”
Laura’s nostrils flared, and as she’d done since she arrived, she carried on as though I didn’t exist.
As though I wasn’t real.
Yeah, it was starting to wear really fucking thin.
“Tiffany, you can’t just—”
“Can’t just what?” she snapped, her hands slapping down against the table, hard enough to make the silverware rattle. “It’s my life, and it’s not like anything is the same as it was anyway.”
“Your father must be rolling around in his grave.”
“You dare bring him up when you didn’t even have the decency to attend his funeral?” she snarled. “Anyway, if he’s doing the horizontal tango underground, that’s on him. He should be here.”
“If he was, he’d disown you.”
“I know he would,” she whispered sadly, miserable enough to make me pity her. “That isn’t news to me.”
Laura’s nostrils flared, and just when I thought she was about to cry, she didn’t. Instead, she swept up to her feet in a cloud of Chanel No.5, and a dress that probably cost a fortune but made her look like she was dressed for an office function in the twenty-one hundreds, and headed out of the room.
Lily blew out a breath, drawing my attention her way. “That wasn’t too bad.”
I arched a brow. “That wasn’t too bad?”
“She’s a drama queen,” Tiffany confirmed. “That actually went quite well in comparison to her past explosions.”
My brow arched even higher, because though it hadn’t been particularly explosive, it certainly hadn’t been good for my or Sin’s egos.
Saying that, it figured that the in-laws wouldn’t approve of their child taking up with a biker.
We were bad men.
Sure, we might have hearts of gold when it came to our women, but when it came to business?
We were bloodthirsty, and we took what was ours.
I reached for Lily’s hand, which she’d fisted on the table, and squeezed. “You okay?”
“Of course. It’s not me who’s shaking,” she rasped sadly, her gaze on her friend, even as she twisted her hand in mine so we could lace our fingers together.
Something about her, and it was something that developed the longer I was with her, was so fucking seamless. It was as natural as putting one foot in front of the other. Or taking a gulp of air and letting your lungs absorb the oxygen. It was natural to hold her, natural to want to fix shit for her, and even more natural still to want to kill for her.
I’d slay a thousand of her demons if it meant protecting her.
I figured she knew that too because, slowly but surely, she was gentling around me. I’d touched her ass last night by mistake when I was eating her out on the hall floor—I hadn’t been able to wait a go
ddamn second longer. I’d burrowed my hands under her butt and had used my grip on her to pull her ass cheeks apart and tug her into me so every part of her was accessible.
Yeah, that was a big step. A massive step, and I didn’t think she even fucking realized it.
But I did.
I knew it, and it made me proud and excited simultaneously.
We were getting somewhere, and when we reached the end destination?
Heaven. Absolute fucking paradise.
I was waiting on her letting me inside her for me to propose. Not because wifing her hinged on me getting laid, but because that was the moment when I knew she’d let me in.
All the way.
And then, when I was staring deep into her eyes, she’d know this was it for us.
This was us. Against the fucking world.
Maybe I was being a pussy, and I should just bite the bullet and propose tonight. But I wanted her to want me that way. I wanted her to let me in, because the second she did, I knew there was nothing between us. Nothing that would ever make me wonder if she was in it for the protection or the—
I blew out a breath. She didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of my insecurities, yet either way, I knew I’d wait. Until all the other white noise was gone, until the bullshit was shoved aside, and when she took me in, let me have all of her, I’d know as much as she did that we were done. I was hers, and she was mine.
Forever.
Tiffany broke into my distracted thoughts by shoving her plate away.
We’d barely started eating our meal before Laura had questioned, “Is it truly necessary to eat with these two gentlemen?”
Only, she’d imbued the word ‘gentlemen’ with so much distaste and loathing, we were pretty much aware that, to her, we were fucking cockroaches.
Not that I gave a shit, of course, but Lily and Tiffany minded.
I’d admit it had been worth her being a cunt just to see their reactions to her words.
If we had any fear that our women looked down on us—which mine only did when she was riding my fucking face—it had been blasted out of the water.
That snooty bitch didn’t get away with shit before Lily had snapped, with enough vitriol to make Laura blanch, “Laura, with all due respect, you are a guest in my and Link’s home. Please be aware of that before you’re rude to him again.”
Forgotten & Found: A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Boxset Page 75