Never Ever: Book One Perdition MC

by Isabel Wroth

  He grunted again and banged around until he found plates to scoop up and dump half the concoction on one plate, smacked it in front of her and she stared at it, uncertain that the human stomach was meant to digest the contents. She could identify the eggs, and what looked like salsa, some kind of meat, maybe cheese? “Looks terrible, tastes pretty good.” Roar told her, putting a plate of hot tortillas between them and scooped some of his stuff on to one of them. She cautiously forked up a bite, and was shocked as the flavors burst across her tongue. It was bacon, some shredded potatoes tossed in, cheddar, some garlic, and she tasted her own familiar salsa that had been spooned in. She cleaned her plate in record time, and looked up to see Roar staring at her with his tortilla halfway to his mouth. He’d not even taken one bite and she’d cleaned her plate. “What?” She asked, cheeks burning self-consciously, wondering if he was going to eat his whole portion. “Nothin, baby. You want more?” She shook her head, deciding she wanted toast and grape jelly. Or lemon curd. Yeah. “Toast.”

  She got out her favorite potato bread and sliced off a few thick wedges, popping them into the toaster, looking out the back window at the fields, wondering how much a few hog traps would cost. Or if she should just set up some blinds and- “Babe, you like burnt toast?” Roar’s voice made her jolt back to the present just in time to save her toast from being to toasty. She heard him open his mouth to say something, but was forestalled by the ringing of his cell. “Yeah?” He grunted, then grunted the same word again, only less of a question, more of an agreement. “I’ll make it happen.” He said, hung up, and turned around on his stool to face her. “Top want’s a meet. Today.” She nodded, scooping out a blob of butter to smear on her toast, the smell of the lemon curd making her mouth water. “Just have to open up, tell the girls I’m going out and we can go.” She licked the spoon clean of the tangy lemony goodness, not realizing she’d been rubbing her stomach until Roar came up behind her and his palm settled on top of hers. “Thought you had a doctors appointment today.” He murmured in her ear, and she glanced over at the calendar on the fridge. “Shit. Totally forgot. I can reschedule,”

  “Top didn’t give me a time, just said to bring you by today. We’re goin to see your doc.”

  “Ok. You make good breakfast.”

  “Noticed you liked it. Love the way you smell.” He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in deep. “Pisses me off when I wake up and you’re not in bed next to me.”

  “Take it up with your demon seed that makes me puke my guts up at 5:45 on the dot.”

  “You can call my kid a demon, but I can’t call him a brat?”

  “You puking your guts up every morning?”

  “No.”

  “Then yeah. I can call your kid a demon.”

  His laughter rolled through the kitchen like an echo of the thunder still rolling outside.

  She got some of her minions to go out and clean up the berry patches, answered a few calls, took a walk around the nursery to make sure there hadn’t been any more damage done to the nursery, and noted some boar tracks close to the fence. Bastards. After that, she climbed on the back of Roar’s bike and he took her into town for her doctors appointment. Dr. Wilder wasn’t thrilled about the tattoo, but apart from a warning about infection, she didn’t say anything more. She flipped the lights off and turned the sonogram machine on, and that was about the time that Roar got quiet. He stared at the black and white image on the computer screen and didn’t say a word until they were walking into the Perdition compound.

  Chapter Ten

  He’d curled his hand around her calf at every stoplight, taken her hand when they got off the bike and walked inside, totally ignoring the greetings his brother’s shouted from across the room, and when they eyeballed her with narrow eyed speculation, she shrugged and let him tow her down a picture lined hallway and banged a heavy fist on the closed door. “It’s open!” A gruff voice called, and Roar led her in to the clutter free office, where a roughly handsome older man sat behind the equally clutter free desk. It smelled like smoke, and she found the only dirty thing in the room, which was a half full ashtray on the corner of the desk. But when she looked at it, the lean, salt and pepper haired man stood up, walked around her and shouted for one of the prospects. Shitkickers pounded down the hall and a tow headed kid eagerly asked, “What’s up, Prez?” The prez shoved the ashtray at the kid and told him gruffly, “Get that clean. Tell the boys no smoking inside till this one is gone.” He hooked his thumb at her, the prospect leaned around to look at her, smiled slow and sweet at her, winked and then jogged out with a, “On it, boss.”

  The prez slammed the door shut after the kid, looked at her for a minute, then at Roar and back to her. “What’s wrong with him?” He demanded shortly, and she shrugged. “No idea. He quit talking after we hit the doctor’s office. Been mute like that ever since.” She watched the older man’s lips twitch, “He see the kid on a sonogram?” She nodded, a tad bit surprised that the rough looking biker knew what all was involved with an OBG appointment. He chuckled softly and went over to a cabinet, poured a stiff three fingers of Johnny Walker into a glass, shoved Roar into a chair and handed him the glass. Roar knocked it back with a wince, wrapped his arm around her hips to tug her onto the arm of the chair, and continued on with his silence. “He’ll get it together after a while. I’m Top, run this club.” She offered her hand and caught his approval when she squeezed his work roughened hand firmly. “Everly Nolan.” He arched a brow at her, and she shrugged as he released her. “Taggart.” She amended. “Changed my name for safety reasons.”

  “You look like your mama.”

  His deep voice and what he said, kicked her in the gut. She was glad she was sitting down, and looked up at him now leaning back against the desk while he looked down at her. If he knew her mother, that meant he was in his fifties, maybe, but he was one of those older guys that only got sexier with age. His dark hair was cut nice, his long mustache trimmed neatly, the scruffle on his jaw and the wrinkles in his black tee the only untidy thing about him. He had rings on his hands, copper cuffs on each wrist, and like her father had, he just oozed authority. His dark brown eyes were piercing, but gentle when he looked at her. “Your dad and me were both the same age, we met up at a summit in Colorado in ’87 and shot the shit while the higher ups had their meet. Perdition was turning towards bail bonds and contract work. Your granddad was still convinced old school was the only way to go. I met your mama few days later, before the summit ended and we all went our separate ways. Bitch was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, gave your dad hell cause she kept running off to the payphone to call your grandma to check on you, and he watched her go the whole time. You got her eyes. And apparently her temper too.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that except, “Ginger.” Which made the Perdition Prez throw his head back and laugh. “Ginger,” He agreed. “Glad to know you weren’t one of the bodies in that clusterfuck, honey.” She nodded and with that, she got a chin jerk, and those dark eyes dropped to where Roar had his hand on her belly. “So, you know what it is yet?”

  “Boy,”

  “Shit, you find out today?”

  “No, today was just a status check. Everything’s going good.”

  “Still getting sick in the morning?”

  “Yeah. Dizzy sometimes too.”

  “He bring you on his bike?”

  “Course.”

  His lips flattened in displeasure, and he looked at Roar, said his name, then barked it sharply, and Roar flinched like he’d been slapped. “Boy, get it the fuck together and pay attention.” She ducked her head to hide her smile, but she wasn’t successful. “Your woman is still getting dizzy, don’t ride around with her until that shit quits.” Roar nodded, his palm spreading wider on her belly, still looking a little dazed. Top shook his head at him, then looked back at her. “What safety reasons made you change your name?”

  “My father, fiancé and family were murdered on my wedding day. They foun
d twenty eight bodies identified as Tornadoes in attendance, but there should have been thirty. One of the brothers was in the hospital because of the bullet wound in his belly. Number thirty, was missing. Some of the bodies were um, unidentifiable. So there was no telling if there was a rat in our house, or if the skinheads had taken someone prisoner. Dad had safe houses in five counties with a lot of cash. I hit three of them, the last two were already on fire. I wasn’t in on club business, but my dad told me enough to keep me safe if anything ever went down and I needed to get clear. Which is what I did. And until Susan begged me to come to the hog roast four months ago, I hadn’t dipped so much as a toe back into the life.”

  “Got more than a toe in now, you good with that?”

  She took a deep breath and nodded, drawing some kind of weird comfort from the weight of Roar’s hand on her stomach. “Yes and no. My dad’s club was into stuff that got them all killed. I don’t know what you and your club is into past some bounty hunting, so yes, I’m good because this is familiar to me. Safe. But also unsafe.” Top nodded, and that light of approval just seemed to get brighter. “We went legit. Ish. My boys are bounty hunters, skip tracers, private security, PI’s. We don’t run drugs, or protect shipments of illegal shit. We get in a few dust ups now and again when we whack the hornet’s nest, or make some drug dealer’s day shitty. You talk to the cops before you got clear?”

  “No.”

  “How’d you know about the massacre then?”

  “I hacked into the police files. I wanted to know if they ever got close to solving the case. Roar told me that Perdition was part of the crew that took out the skinheads responsible for the burn.”

  “He told you right. Last major war this club fought. Rats all went down with the ship.”

  “Thank you. Roar um, mentioned you might want a DNA test, for the baby.”

  Top blinked once, his dark brow arching up, mustache giving a little tick while he looked from her to Roar and back. “You a hundred percent on him being the father?” He asked it gently, but it still singed to have to answer it. “Hundred and ten.”

  “Then unless he’s demanding one, I sure as fuck ain’t.” His eyes cut back to Roar, and when he didn’t say anything, she looked down at Roar, who was still staring off into space like a boob. So she elbowed him in the chest, and he snapped out of it long enough to look up at her, “What?”

  “We’re talking about that DNA test?” She led, and his hand firmed on her stomach, “Not doin it,” He told her in a tone that brooked no argument. “Not that I’m arguing, brother, but you wanna tell me why?”

  Roar’s expression went from blank, to hard and mean in an instant. Made his prez raise both his eyebrows now and look down at his brother with amusement plain on his face, sure in the knowledge that if Roar threw down, he’d kick his ass. “That kind of test means pushing a needle through Ever’s stomach, into her belly where the kid is to get fluid outta there. Not doin it. I read the complications. Could burst the bubble, inject bacteria or air and shit. No way.”

  “You read?” Top drawled, and Roar shot him the dirtiest look she’d ever seen, which just made the Prez throw his head back and laugh. “It’s an amniotic sac, by the way. Not a bubble.” Top told Roar, which made her roll her lips under to keep from laughing, “Looked like a bubble to me. Shit. Shit.” His arm curled around her now and pulled her down into his lap, turning his face into her hair while his throat worked hard, “It’s hittin him now, the reality. He’ll be fine in a bit. No fuckin on my desk.” Top said, winked at her and headed out. But not before stopping, turning around to look back at her and nodded, “We’ll talk more later. Welcome home.”

  He shut the door behind him, and she shifted to turn towards Roar, draping her arms around his shoulders to knead gently at the tightness in his neck. “You good?” He touched a kiss to her throat, her cheek, swallowing again audibly like he was choking something down. Maybe the contents of his stomach? She wasn’t sure. But he pressed his brow to hers and nodded, his one hand still covering her belly. “That picture, the sonogram, just made it real. You know?” He rasped hoarsely, and she understood now, what Top had meant. “Yeah. I do. I felt the same way when I saw the first one.”

  “Alone.”

  “What?”

  “You were alone when you saw the first one.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll be there, next time. Every time after.” He made it a vow, and her heart flopped over. She liked that. The vehemence, the emotion behind it. She liked it a lot. “I’d appreciate that. Why’d your prez leave and tell me no fucking on his desk?”

  “Cause Top aint no fool.”

  He stood up with her in his arms like she was nothing, a pillow, hungrily slanting kisses on her lips, turning with her to press her hard against the wall, hands all over her, gripping, kneading, stroking, tearing at the zipper on her jeans until he got where he wanted. He shoved his hand between her legs, rubbing firmly at her clit, sliding down and up to stab his talented fingers deep inside her, growling in answer to the cry of shock and pleasure she fed him. “Thank fuck,” He groaned, making her jolt with the powerful jerk he gave to get her jeans down her thighs, “Give it here, baby.” He demanded, whipping her around to face the wall, smacking her sharply on the butt when she didn’t comply. “Give it,” Her pleasure soaked brain, the urgency, the thrill of that sharp smack sending more pleasure zipping through her body. It took a minute for her to understand what he wanted, but when she did, when she tilted her hips back, he shoved inside hard. Another hard jerk buried him to the hilt, and her mouth fell open in a shout of ecstasy, the mix of pleasure and pain so amazing she saw stars.

  Her fingers dug into the wall, bracing herself against the deep, hungry pounding of his hips behind her. He slid one hand down her stomach, over the curve of her belly to tilt her hips back farther, his other hand slid up to cup to curl firmly, gently around her throat. He tilted her head back and to the side so he could lick at her mouth, his breath washing over her lips while he fucked her like a man possessed, “Love this pussy,” He ground out, adding a little churn to his thrusts that rubbed the head of his cock high and hard against a spot no man had ever hit before. A spot that made her eyes cross, because it felt so good. “There it is, found it, didn’t I?” She heard herself make a high pitched noise that she’d never made before, and felt him grin, “Hard, baby, come hard. Wanna hear it. Want every mother fucker in this place to hear it.” Every forceful thrust and rub, pushed an escalating cry out from inside her, and then suddenly she was there, blinded by the surge of pleasure that tore up like a tidal wave. She heard herself scream out, loud, and felt the vibration of his groan rumbling against her back.

  He stayed inside her, his arm curled above her head on the wall, her one hand now tangled in his while he held them up, easing back and forth inside her slow and gentle now. Tender, making the pleasure of their furious fucking turn into something so sweet it brought tears to her eyes. “I was too rough.” He rasped in her ear, and she shook her head, finding just enough breath to say, “No.” Before she lost it on a ragged pant when he seated himself high and deep again. Pushed in to the hilt, his hips flush with her ass, and stayed there while her pussy rippled and pulled around the still hard flesh. “Could stay inside you forever.” Her lips twitched in a delirious smile as she thought, forever and ever.

  But forever wasn’t long enough, and too soon he was easing out, turning her back around to right her jeans and spend what felt like another hour kissing her into a stupor. He kissed her soft, held her wrapped in the curve of one arm, held her up by leaning on her and pressing her into the wall. If he hadn’t, she was pretty sure she would have fallen at his feet in a heap. Then he just rested there with her, forehead to forehead, lips touching while he kept his other hand on her hip and swept the side of her belly with his thumb. “You’re tired,” he murmured, right when she honestly thought about passing out. “Mm hm.”

  “Good.”

  He tugged her away from
the wall and kept her curled in tight against his side, and tired as she was, she had to wrap both arms around his waist to keep on her feet, blindly following him up a flight of stairs and swayed a little when he stopped to pull some keys from his pocket. “Here, baby.” He told her softly, turning with her to lay her down on a bed that smelled like him. She turned on her side and felt him tugging on her boots, felt him scoop her hair off her throat and drop a tender little kiss there before he pulled the heavy blankets up over her. “Better,” She mumbled, and he chuckled, “What? My bed?”

  “Huh uh. The sex. Better and better.”

  “Better? Babe, fucking you is like touching the hand of god. That pussy is so tight it almost hurts.”

  “Mm,” Her lips pulled in a satisfied smile, and he laughed for real now, bending over her to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Better, mean you’re giving in and gonna marry me?”

  “Fuck no.” She sighed, and he clicked his tongue at her. “Didn’t think so. Have a nap, I’ll be back soon.”

  She was already half asleep, so she just nodded and curled around some of his pillows, out so fast that she missed how he just sat there next to her for a good while, staring down at her. Missed the tenderness, the determination on his face, and the softness in his eyes. If she’d seen it, she might have considered, seriously, accepting his demand that she marry him.

  Only felt like seconds went by before he was back, pulling the blankets back and lifting her up into his arms. “Whazgoingon?” She mumbled, tucking her cheek against his throat and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Nothin, baby. Sleep. We’re goin home.”