Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC Book Book 8)

by Anne Malcom

  Kace picked up the wine from the counter, draining it without taking his eyes off me. “You think I was going to make it that easy?” he asked, voice guttural. “That you’d get off wearing that?” He shook his head. “Get in the bedroom. Now.”

  Fuck me if I didn’t heed his command immediately.

  I hurried down the hall, and he trailed me like the predator he was. My skin was hot, heart beating in my throat. I was excited. Nervous. Desperate.

  Kace closed the door behind me, and I turned to face him. His face was cold, brutal.

  He nodded to the shirt. “Take. It. Off.”

  My shaking fingers moved to do his bidding with an embarrassing amount of speed. I didn’t have it in me to be embarrassed right now. No, I was too desperate. I was near feral with my need for release. For him.

  He was punishing me at the same time he was giving me the most erotic gift I’d ever had.

  Kace watched with a concentrated intensity as I moved to pull it over my head.

  “Skirt,” he rasped.

  My breathing was rapid as I did as he asked.

  He grinned as it hit the floor. “Yeah, I’m the only one who gets to see what that looks like on you and on the floor.” Then he moved his eyes back to me, where I was standing in drenched lace panties, spiked heels and nothing else.

  Kace nodded toward my hips, his eyes hungry. “Panties.”

  I kept watching him as I pulled them from my hips then stepped out of them.

  “Shoes are staying on,” Kace informed me.

  I swallowed roughly, nodding. All I wanted in the world was to go to him, to take charge and take what I wanted, but I stayed in my spot.

  He was making it clear that he was in charge, and that’s what made this so incredibly hot.

  “Move to the bed. Hands on it. Feet splayed. Ass up for me.”

  I moved to do as he said, putting myself in a position that should’ve felt demeaning or vulnerable. Though it was neither. Not with him. It was powerful. Erotic.

  There was silence for a long time. Too long. My body was crying out with need in a dull roar, yet Kace hadn’t moved. He was watching me. I knew that. Feasting on my body with a reverence I trusted him to have.

  First it was a palm on my ass. Gentle. Barely there. A stark juxtaposition to every other way he’d touched me tonight.

  It moved slowly, caressing my skin, moving down to my thighs and then forward, toward the drenched area he’d abandoned earlier. But he didn’t go in. He wasn’t going to make it that easy.

  Next it was his lips on my skin. Moving along my cheeks slowly, torturously. His actions left me feeling vulnerable, to say the least. But somehow empowering too.

  Then his lips moved to the middle. He spread me open and ate me... there. In that place that felt so forbidden. So private. I should’ve been uncomfortable. But I fucking loved it. I fisted the sheets as I cried out, Kace moving his tongue like the expert he was.

  “I’m gonna take your ass one day,” he warned, moving his finger to tease at my entrance, not going inside. “Not tonight, though.”

  He moved away, standing to unbuckle his pants but keeping everything on. He didn’t need to prime me, I was ready the second I’d laid eyes on him in the kitchen.

  “Am I the only one who gets to fuck you like this?” he asked, hands tight on my hips, poised at my entrance.

  “Yes,” I ground out, my need for him making me near feral.

  His grip tightened to the point of pain. The perfect kind of pain. “Am I the only one who gets to eat your ass?”

  My stomach dipped. “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Fuckin’ right,” he growled.

  Then he thrust inside me.

  And fucked me all night long. Reminding me that my body may have belonged to me in the daylight when he wasn’t around, but it was all his when the sun went down.

  If you’d asked me Edmond’s name that night, I wouldn’t have been able to utter it. I hadn’t been able to think about anything but Kace.

  Edmond had called just like he’d said he would.

  I watched his name light up on my phone screen the very next morning. Early, but not too early. Right after I’d gotten the kids to school and was settled on my laptop with a coffee, brainstorming jobs I could maybe get with a decade-long hole in my resume that would feed, clothe and house me and my children.

  So far, I had stripper, cam girl and jewelry thief. The list was definitely depressing and unrealistic, so I would’ve grasped on to almost any reason to abandon it, eager to be distracted by anything, except talking to Edmond on the phone.

  He’d be polite, ask questions. Thoughtful ones. Then he’d try to make a plan for our next date. He’d be insistent, not pushy, but in a way I’d feel uncomfortable rejecting him, forced to come up with a suitable excuse, then having to bump into him in the frozen food section.

  Why had I gone on that date? I really hadn’t thought this through.

  No, I had thought it through. I couldn’t become too close to Kace, getting tangled with another member of the Sons. I’d ruin my kid’s lives if I didn’t at least try to give them some other kind of life.

  Not that I’d tried hard with Edmond. But the thought of going through another date, trying to be whatever version of myself I’d have to be to date a man like him, sounded less appetizing than a pap smear.

  So I ignored the call. I was not ready to have a conversation with him. I’d only put it off until sometime tonight. Or maybe in the hours when he’d most likely be working. A voicemail would be so much easier. Sure, it’d be bitchier, too, but right now I didn’t care much about whether it was or wasn’t a bitch move, I just wanted the easy one. Every choice I made was based on ease now. It was trouble enough just getting through the day without screaming or necking a bottle of vodka.

  Every decision was based on ease.

  Except Kace.

  That wasn’t even a decision.

  It was insanity.

  I sighed and went back to my list. I could try and go back to the bookstore. I adored it there, but Evan was about to let his son take over, and I figured that his son would be able to handle the books. Even if they did employ me, it wouldn’t pay enough to even cover our monthly grocery bill.

  “Stripping? Not that you don’t have the body for it, especially the ass, but I think that spells trouble for me.” The voice came from right over my shoulder, breath hot on my neck.

  I jumped in shock, spilling my coffee in the process. “Fuck!” I snapped, slamming my laptop closed, storming toward the kitchen and putting it on the counter while I grabbed some paper towels.

  Then I mopped up the spilled coffee, all the while not acknowledging Kace’s presence. He stood there, watching me do all of this, not speaking or offering to help, even though the mess was his fault. To be fair, I would’ve damn near bitten his head off if he had offered to help, so maybe he was playing it smart. Or maybe he was just an asshole.

  Once I’d cleaned up the mess and got myself in a condition where I could face him enough to speak evenly, I did.

  “How did you get in here?” I asked calmly.

  His eyes flickered over me as they always did. As if he hadn’t just left my bed in the early hours of the morning. As if I didn’t have marks on my ass and tits from the magnificent way he’d fucked me last night.

  And my body responded accordingly, the traitorous bitch.

  “You left the door unlocked,” he nodded toward the front of the house. “You gotta stop doin’ that shit.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrowed my eyes. “You’ve gotta stop thinking you can comment on what I do and don’t do. You’ve also gotta stop walking into my house without permission. My kids could’ve been here.”

  “Your kids are at school,” he countered.

  “It could’ve been a teacher day, or someone could’ve been home sick.”

  “It’s not and there wasn’t. Can you stop throwing fuckin’ sass at me and let me know what the fuck that lis
t is?” He didn’t sound pissed exactly. But definitely not as carefree as he usually did. It was last night. It had changed something. He’d claimed me in every way he could, and now he’d gone all alpha on me. Showing up like he had the right, talking to me like I was more than just a fuck.

  “I’m not throwing sass,” I snapped. “I’m acting like a normal, pissed off woman at some man who has walked into her house like he has the right too.”

  Kace was transitioning into pissed, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits. And why did I like seeing that side of him?

  “I’m not just some fuckin’ man. At least I wasn’t last night. As much as you want this to be secret sex, it’s not. I don’t work that way. And it’s my business if the woman I’m fucking has decided to go and strip at the place my club owns. Beyond that, it’s on me and the club if someone who has sacrificed as much for the Sons as you have is at the point of needing to sell her fucking body in order to feed her goddamn kids.”

  Yeah. He was pissed off.

  In the way any member would be if they knew the widow of a long-time member was doing this shit. Some maybe even a little more.

  “I don’t need to sell my body in order to feed my goddamn kids,” I snapped. “I need to figure out how to stand without the club. I need to be my own person apart from all this. Be able to provide for my children.”

  Kace’s eyes gentled, his body doing the same. “You want to be an island,” he deduced.

  “No, I want to be a peninsula,” I corrected. “I want my friends, family, the club to be involved, to be accessible, but I want some version of my own life, my own identity. My own sense of security. I’ve spent most of my adult life as an Old Lady, wrapped up in the life of the MC. It’s been a hard life. A beautiful one too. But that’s over now. I’m not an Old Lady anymore. I know I will always have a place with the Sons. I know they will never abandon me or my kids. But I know I have to be something more than that. For my own sanity.”

  “And a jewelry thief is where you see yourself going?” Kace asked after a beat, amusement coating his words.

  I was thankful he hadn’t latched on to all the truths I hadn’t meant to spill. Not calling me on them, not trying to talk me out of it. Not trying to make this deeper, more intense than it already was.

  I folded my arms. “I’m just brainstorming. Not all ideas are great. This is a process. One that does not need your input, so you should leave.”

  I wanted to mean that. I really did. But after last night, with the tenderness between my legs, I wanted him to stay. I wanted him. Hopefully that didn’t show in my voice or my face.

  His lips curled . “I’m not saying your ideas aren’t great. I’m definitely intrigued at what kind of moves you’d have for a lap dance.”

  My stomach dipped deliciously. “You don’t get to flirt your way out of this.”

  He moved then. Quickly. Too quickly. He didn’t give me time to retreat, to brace for impact. Kace obviously didn’t want that. He wanted to catch me off guard. To have the upper hand.

  One of his strong hands went to my ass, yanking me close to him, the other to the back of my neck, pressing our faces inches apart. “I don’t need to flirt with you, Lizzie.” His hand moved inside the waistband of my pants then underneath my panties, cupping my bare ass. “We’re well past that.” His lips moved to my neck, grazing the skin with his teeth. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  I wanted to. More than anything. Wanted to push him away and at least show myself that I had some semblance of control over this.

  Instead of speaking I stayed silent. Which was just as bad as admitting he was right.

  “That’s what I thought,” he snickered, moving his hands from my panties and lifting me.

  My legs wrapped around his hips on reflex, a hiss escaping me when I met the hardness of his crotch.

  “Yeah, baby,” he murmured, carrying me to the bedroom.

  That’s where he proved just how much control he had. How fucked I was. In many more ways than one.

  “Don’t answer it,” Kace murmured, hands tightening around me. Someone had just knocked at the door.

  We were in the bed now.

  There’d been no avoiding it. We’d fucking more and more often, the sex getting dirtier and more carnal. The words between the sex getting more personal. So it didn’t much matter whether we were in the bed or not. It was just a mattress and set of sheets. It no longer smelled of my husband. It smelled of us now. Me and Kace.

  His voice was thick and throaty and full of sex. As was the air in my bedroom.

  It was the middle of the day. Someone could’ve stopped by for coffee. To haul me on some shopping trip. Call me to come and bail her and her boys from mall jail—that one was Mia. Or worse still, my kids could come home sick. I had become an addict. First it was just sex, the escape that he gave me. The awakening he made me feel. Like my body was something more than a collection of scars.

  But it was starting to become more than just sex I was addicted to. It was Kace. The fact that he was easy to be with, gentle with me when we had our clothes on, but then was beautifully brutal in the bedroom. I needed to take charge of my life, feel like I had agency, make my kids think I had everything under control.

  There was also a part of me that craved having someone else to control me. To take charge of me. Kace did that. And I fucking loved it.

  Until reality came knocking at my door.

  “I have to answer it,” I said firmly, moving quickly from the bed. He let me, though, I knew he didn’t want to. “You need to stay in here.” I pointed at him sternly to make my point.

  He moved to sit up in bed, not bothering to cover himself up with the sheet. Kace was not at all modest about his body, and he didn’t need to be, he was nothing short of perfect.

  Sure, there was a darkness about him. A damage to him that he’d told me about the first night me met. But I was careful not to delve into that side of him. I couldn’t. As perfect as he was on the surface, I had managed to keep my distance from his soul. If I truly got to know his scars, his imperfections, I’d be in too deep. I’d want to know his pain. Want to wear his scars.

  “Hiding me in the bedroom like I’m your mistress?” he taunted, his eyes twinkling with humor.

  I scowled at him, not bothering to answer. The joke hit me somewhere deep inside. Ranger was dead. Long dead and gone. This wasn’t cheating on him. This wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was logical to think that. Gwen hadn’t judged me, nor had Evie, but then again, that wasn’t exactly their style. Despite the fact I knew that women and men were allowed to move on after their spouse died, that it was healthy, I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to be healthy. Didn’t want to move on. But the man laying naked in my bed was proof I didn’t want to stay where I was either.

  I hurriedly threw on my clothes, forgetting my underwear in my rush. My hair definitely looked like I’d been well fucked, so I did my best to finger brush it on my way to the door. Hopefully I’d be able to convince Mia or whoever it was that I wasn’t doing anything suspect. Which was a fool’s hope, since she was totally going to notice all the signs of a woman who’d just been screwed.

  What a hole I’d dug for myself.

  I opened the door, already trying to find a suitable excuse for my friend, when I was faced with someone I hadn’t expected.

  “Edmond,” I breathed out. “Um, hi.”

  His eyes flickered over me before settling on my eyes. He was, of course, in what looked like an expensive suit, no tie, his hair in order, holding two coffees.

  “I know it’s exceptionally bad form to show up the day after a date, especially when you haven’t called me back yet, but I figured coffee from your favorite place and muffins may get me some points?” He held the bag up with a sheepish grin.

  I gritted my teeth. Though I’d never agreed with her before, I found myself thinking like my mother. Being pissed like she would be at the audacity of someone—a male potential love interest no less—arriving on my doorste
p without notice.

  Even if I didn’t have a naked biker in my bed, this would’ve pissed me off. No matter how nice and well-groomed Edmond seemed, it was out of line, taking the choice away from me. It was up to me whether I wanted to see him again. It was certainly up to me whether I invited him to my house. This felt oddly aggressive.

  “I knew the kids would be at school,” Edmond continued when I didn’t answer. “So I figured it would be safe to come.” He laughed, and there was a slight awkwardness to it. He felt uncomfortable. Good. He should.

  “I don’t think there’s ever a safe time to come to my home unannounced, Edmond,” I said, my voice icy. I’d planned on being polite, warm, hoping to push him into the friendzone. Maybe I was overreacting to this. But my home was my space. My safe place. My kid’s safe place. Some man wanting to get laid because he’d bought me coffee and a fucking muffin had no right to come here.

  That was the problem with men like Edmond with their expensive suits, overpowering cologne and straight white teeth. They thought they had the right to do whatever they pleased.

  Something moved across his face, rippling through the pleasantness like a stone on a lake. He was pissed at my response. Of course he was. He wasn’t used to women speaking up. They were either charmed by him or too polite to set him straight.

  “I don’t mean anything by it. We had fun last night. I like you.”

  “So you think that coming here, despite me not answering the phone, is still acceptable?” I countered. “You’re polite. You know good wines. You have a good job, and for all I know you could be the totally perfect man. But I just buried my husband a year ago. I have two kids who need to be my focus. What I don’t need is a man on my doorstep without an invitation, no matter how polite he is. The date was nice. But I’m not ready. My kids are my main focus right now.”

  I delivered this with a little less ice than before, but made sure I was firm.

  The mask flickered once more. He was pissed at this. At me holding firm. “This was a mistake. I was over eager. I apologize.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “I can’t even try to make my case over coffee?” he pushed.