by T. L Smith
Rochelle sits there happily, her smile not leaving her face as she watches the exchange.
Oh shit! I forgot to ask if she’s pregnant and if she’s told him yet. But trying to gain her attention now won’t be good.
“No,” he says again as she manages to get up and onto his lap. She sits down, and her little hands touch his face. She kisses him on the cheek, and he looks at Rochelle.
“Pretty,” he says.
When I look at Rochelle, I see she’s crying. She stands and walks up the stairs fast, until she’s in the bathroom.
Marcus looks to me, picks Annabelle up, holds her out as if she’s sick and doesn’t want to touch her, then passes her to me before he goes off after Rochelle. I follow them up the stairs but keep my distance to make sure Rochelle’s all right.
“Open the door.”
“No,” she says.
“Pretty… open the door.”
“I can’t.”
“Do I need to break it?” he asks.
“No,” I say, at the same time Rochelle does.
“Marcus,” Rochelle says through the door.
“Yes,” he replies, his hands are braced on either side of the jamb, watching the door, waiting for it to open.
“I need you to grab my bag and bring it up here.”
Marcus’s eyebrows pinch together. “Once you open the door.”
“Bring the bag up, and I will consider it.”
He huffs, and then pushes past me to grab her bag, coming straight back to the door. “I have it.”
“Open it. Take out what’s inside.”
“Rochelle,” he says, losing his patience. He hardly ever calls her by her first name.
“Just do it,” she says, still not opening the door.
I watch, holding Annabelle as he opens her bag. He pulls out her phone and places it on the floor, then her purse, doing the same thing. Then comes the white stick, and I freeze knowing exactly what that is.
“Marcus,” Rochelle says.
Marcus has gone quiet as he looks down at it. He knows what it is by the color his skin has gone—white, stark white.
“Did you pass out?” Rochelle questions, to which he doesn’t reply. “Marcus, talk to me.”
“You’re pregnant?”
“I’m pregnant,” she says back to him, confirming his question. “I took the test this morning when you were at work. I had planned a dinner to tell you, but life got in the way, and then I saw you with Annabelle, and well, the hormones took over. I’m pregnant, Marcus. Do you still want me?” She hiccups, and I know she’s crying.
I turn to walk away when I hear a crack. It’s loud. Turning back around, I see Marcus has broken the handle to my bathroom door and is now pushing it open forcefully until he reaches for Rochelle and buries himself in her neck.
“You aren’t mad?” she asks.
“No.”
“And you still love me?”
“Always.”
Turning, I walk away, leaving them to have this moment.
Chapter Seventeen
Blaze
They want war, I know they do.
Snow swears as he wipes his face with his rag. He’s been working on the bikes all day. It’s his favorite thing to do. The Wretched MC is starting trouble, sending back our prospect after they had a gun to his head, then proceeded to fuck his face up.
You don’t touch what is ours. That’s a big no-no. And that means war as far as we’re concerned. Cane wants war—he always has—and now he’s going to get it.
Cane, their president, has been trouble for me since the very beginning. Ever since I fucked his wife. I guess vengeance can be a bitch.
“What do you plan to do?” Snow asks as I lean against my now sparkling clean bike.
“He needs to know this shit’s not acceptable,” I say while rubbing my jaw. “He needs to know we can’t be fucked with.”
“Agreed,” Snow says, leaning against his own bike. “You know this could lead to a lot of trouble. Not just for us, but our town. Also, that club of yours. It’s right on the edge of their territory. You can’t have eyes on it all the time,” Snow says, referring to the prospect I’ve had there when Katarina finishes, to make sure she gets home safely.
“Call for church. Bring the boys to the table. We will discuss this shit there,” I say, pushing off. “Later tonight. I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To taste heaven.” I smile, walking off.
Snow yells out to me, “You keep going down that rabbit hole, you may just stay stuck.”
It’s been almost two weeks since I saw Kat last at the club, when I kissed her and left. I had planned to stay away, to not see her again, because when I do, she remains stuck in my head for days. And no matter what I do, I can’t remove the thoughts of her. They play over and over again.
Today, though, I have to see her. And keeping my hands to myself may be a difficult task to do.
Pulling up at Marcus’s house, a few other cars are already parked. I recognize Katarina’s before I even remove my helmet. The front door opens, and Marcus steps out, he stays where he is at the door, watching me.
“You came,” he says.
“You asked,” I state the obvious.
Before either of us can say another word, Rochelle walks up behind him, her hand clasping his as she stares out at me.
“Blaze, thanks for coming, and sorry in advance for my family.” I look to Marcus, who doesn’t say anything. Rochelle turns and walks back inside, and when she does, she takes Marcus with her. Her hand staying in his as I follow them inside. When we step into his kitchen, it’s busy, and I spot Katarina straight away. She has her back to me, it’s bare due to the cut of the dress she’s wearing, her strawberry hair is cascading slightly down her back and over her shoulder, and there’s a toddler pulling at her leg with a doll in her hand.
“Why am I here?” I ask, making everyone turn to look.
Rochelle shifts her eyes, assessing me, and I’m the first to look away back to Marcus. “Marcus?”
“Just grab a drink and sit,” he says, reaching for a beer and handing me one.
Rochelle leans on him and gives him a smile.
“Blaze, these are our parents,” Katarina says while looking to her parents, who both smile.
“Tom.” Her dad offers me a handshake, and their mother simply watches me. She reminds me of Katarina. “And you are Marcus’s brother?” their father asks me. “Is it just you two in your family, or do you have more siblings?”
“Just us,” I answer, knowing Marcus won’t.
“Well, welcome to the family, Blaze,” Tom says, smiling, then turns back to Rochelle, who’s whispering to Marcus.
He nods, and she pulls away.
“So, we wanted to invite you all around to share some news with you.”
“We know you’re engaged,” their mother says.
“Yes, but…” Rochelle turns to look up at Marcus, who looks down at her and speaks words I never thought I’d hear. “Rochelle is pregnant. We’re having a baby.” His eyes find mine, and I have no words. No fucking words. At all. Looking next to him, I see Katarina watching me, her eyes zero in on me as she stands, picking up her daughter, and then passing her to her mother.
“Oh my God, I’m going to be a grandmother again. This is everything,” she says, taking Annabelle and walking toward them. Marcus slowly positions Rochelle in front of him, and it makes me smirk. He doesn’t like to be touched unless it’s Rochelle. She has seemed to crack all his shells, slay all his demons, and somehow, she’s managed to bury herself in his heart.
A hand touches mine, and I’m being pulled. I let her because, why not. I don’t want to be here. I give a nod to Marcus as I’m tugged out the back door, which is shut behind me, and we step out of the way of the glass sliding door, so we aren’t in view of everyone. The pool is to our left, and I watch her as she stands in front of me. Katarina’s super close, so much so I can smell her, and
it takes everything in me to not reach out and touch her.
I like touching her.
“You seem like you needed air, but you shouldn’t leave. This is a big day for Marcus, you know.” Katarina leans against the side of the house next to me. “I haven’t seen you,” she comments, making my gaze lift from her bare legs to her face. She’s watching me with a smirk sitting on her face. “They’ll be occupied for a while.” Katarina stands in front of me, her hand coming up to touch my chest. I look at it as if it’s a foreign object, then back to her face. “Blaze,” she says my name.
“Katarina,” I say her name back.
She doesn’t curse me out for using that name like she normally would.
“Blaze, I’ve had a terrible week. So bad, in fact, I think the only way to make it better is to play with you.” She rubs my chest, her hand stroking my leather. Katarina lifts it, sliding her hand under it to touch my skin.
“You want me to make you feel better?” I ask her.
She smirks while biting her lip. “Yes, you make me feel good with that mouth of yours.” Katarina leans in and nips at my lips, then pulls back.
I should tell her no, that I won’t be playing her games. But how can you tell a temptress no when she looks like a goddess.
Instead, my hands wrap around her, pulling her to me, my cock hardening fast at her simple touch.
“I’m not going here with my mouth,” I say as I cup her sweet pussy.
Katarina pushes out her bottom lip.
“I’m going there with my fucking cock.”
Lifting her dress, I find she doesn’t have any panties on, and she grins at me. “You like that?”
“I like it a lot. Free my cock. Now.”
We’re surrounded by darkness, but I can still see all her features, the moonlight is just bright enough.
Katarina’s hand reaches for my jeans and she unzips me, pulling me free, her hand covering my dick and gently stroking me.
“Do you want to fuck me now, Blaze? Do you want to put your big cock in me?”
My hand slips between her legs and I insert a finger.
She spreads her legs wider, her eyes not leaving mine. “Tell me, Blaze. Tell me how much you want me.” Her hand strokes me faster. My fingers moving quicker as I fuck her with them. She moans and it’s music to my ears.
“Come on, Blaze, fuck me,” she whispers.
Lights come on, and she pulls away fast, her dress falling quickly. My cock now free and hard as a damn rock. I tuck it in, or try to, and she smiles.
“Blaze…” Marcus says as he walks around the corner.
He eyes me, then Katarina, who smiles and walks straight past him, not looking back to me as she heads inside.
“You really killed my game,” I tell Marcus.
“I’m having a child. Which is more important than you fucking my soon-to-be sister-in-law,” he says, taking me by surprise. He rubs his face and shakes his head. “Fuck! A baby,” he says again.
“Yep,” is all I can say to that.
“What? I know you want to say it. So say it.”
“We had a shit mother, and a shit childhood. Why on earth would you want to bring a child into our world?”
“I didn’t, but then I met her. What Rochelle wants, I want.”
“You sound fucked,” I tell him. “Do you even hear yourself? Who the hell are you?”
My brother steps closer, his hand coming to my chest, anger written all over his face. “I’m a fucking man who isn’t stuck in shadows anymore. I’ve been there forever, lurking and getting nowhere. She makes me see the light.”
Marcus turns and walks back inside, leaving me standing there wondering what the fuck is going on.
Chapter Eighteen
Kat
“Tell your brother we said bye,” my parents say to Marcus as they leave.
Blaze hasn’t come back in, and it’s been over an hour. I look through the glass door and see him sitting by the pool, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he reclines on a lounger. I look over to Annabelle, who’s sound asleep, and open the door to go out the back to him. Blaze doesn’t bother to turn to look at me as I take a seat next to him.
“If you aren’t here to sit on my cock, then there’s no use for you,” he says, blowing the smoke out and looking up at the sky.
“Sit on your cock. How fun that would be,” I reply, making him turn to face me.
“You are too beautiful for your own good.”
I feel the blush coming to my cheeks, so I look away from his intense glare.
“Are you not happy for your brother?” I ask Blaze.
“I am.”
“You don’t seem like it.”
“No, I guess I don’t. But when you see a mother burning her own child, you tend to not want to believe in the happy ever after scenario. I mean, I never see the father of your child, so all families are fucked-up in some way.”
“Holy shit! Okay, bomb dropped. But that isn’t my story to dig into,” I say, referring to their mother burning Marcus. I knew things had happened to him, because Rochelle had said something, but she didn’t go into details. “How did your scar happen?” I ask him.
“My mother,” is all he replies. He takes another drag on his cigarette and then looks up at the sky. “She was a real bitch, that one. Damn well shouldn’t have had kids.”
“Rochelle will be nothing like her,” I tell him.
“I know she’ll be good. And Marcus will find out what it’s like, and maybe even wish he had better when he was younger.”
“Come on, hot stuff. How about you take me for a ride on that bike of yours.” I stand to offer him my hand. He looks at it, drops the cigarette, and stands. Taking my hand in his, he looks inside. “Your daughter?”
“She’s sleeping. Rochelle is hovering around her,” I say.
Smiling, I remember Rochelle telling me it’s practice for her. But she doesn’t need it, she will be a natural at motherhood.
We walk around the house to where his bike sits, Blaze takes his helmet and places it on my head, then throws his leg over and nods for me to sit behind him.
“Where is your helmet?” I ask.
“You’re wearing it,” he says. “Now get on and wrap your hands around me tight.”
I smile. “I like the sound of that.” I climb on and squeeze my legs around him, clinging on. Lifting his shirt, I touch his stomach as I slide my hands under and lock them together. He doesn’t protest or tell me to move, he simply starts the engine and takes off fast, my hair whipping my back as he flings up some dirt. I grip onto his skin, feeling the warmth as he drives us. We ride for a few minutes, and I relax into his back, leaning my head on him. Blaze lifts the shirt, and one of his hands covers mine, and I smile into his back.
This is the first time I feel free, like my worries are somehow all gone, that I have left them back where they can’t affect me right now. And at this moment it’s just me, a bike, and a man who makes my heart beat pick up way too fast for my liking. No man has ever made me so angry and so turned on, yet confused all in one sitting.
I want to hate him.
I don’t want to want him.
But I do.
Blaze’s hand lifts, and he lets me go as I feel the bike come to a stop. When I lift my head, I see where we are. Nowhere. There’s bush and nothing but the stars and moon above us.
Removing his helmet from my head, he puts the stand down first, gets off the bike, then offers me his hand.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“I used to run away here, and just lay in the grass for hours when Marcus told me to run,” Blaze says.
We walk a short distance, and he stops, drops my hand, and sits in the grass, glancing at me before he lays backward, looking up at the sky.
“I’m about to kill one of those men, so if you see them at the club, you don’t talk, you run. You got me?” he asks.
“The Wretched MC boys?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Why
here?” I ask, changing the subject. My back hits the grass as I lay next to him.
“It was far enough away that Mom couldn’t find me once she’d beaten Marcus, and it was also close enough that I knew Marcus could find me.”
I turn to look at him to see he’s already watching me.
“Why are you here, Katarina?”
“Because you are,” I say, sitting up, then standing.
Blaze stays where he is, lying in the grass as I reach for the zipper of my dress and pull it down, then let the fabric drop to the ground. I’m completely naked underneath.
“Blaze,” I say his name.
He watches me with eyes so dark and hooded it automatically turns me on.
“Do you want me?”
Blaze sits, reaches for me, and pulls me down so I’m on top of him. “Stupid question,” he says, then kisses my neck as I straddle him. His length can be felt through his jeans, and I know he wants me as much as I want him right now.
His mouth moves farther down until he cups one of my breasts with one hand, and his mouth goes to the other. I should feel self-conscious around him. My tits aren’t what they used to be, all perky and pert. But once I had a kid, they went south. However, for some reason, he doesn’t look at me as if I’m a mother, or as if anything is wrong with me. The marks that maim them from being stretched, he doesn’t seem to care about. And it makes me happy, so happy that I reach down between us and unzip his jeans, reaching in and freeing him from the confines of his pants. Then my hands pull his shirt over his head until he’s bare-chested in front of me. His chest shows a few tattoos, and I trace them with my tongue as I rub along his length, giving some friction on my clit.
“Katarina,” he says as I sit up higher, teasing him. His hands move and grip my hips, holding me up. I smile down at him and cup his face, his beard tickling my hands as I smirk.
“Kiss me, Blaze.”
And he does, his fingers not releasing their hold on me as he grips hard, and he steals my breath. So much so I almost forget what’s between my legs. Almost. His tongue slides in, and I have to remember where I am and what I’m doing.