by Jo Raven
Only, it’s not an issue. Not a problem. It’s goddamn Zane Madden, the heart of the Brotherhood, the axis around which our little universe revolves. He’s the best of us. The one we look up to. The darkest past and the brightest mind. The biggest heart.
He’s not a problem to solve. But he’s ours to protect, ours to keep safe. And it seems we failed him.
“I thought I heard you wrong the first time,” Rafe mutters, frowning. “Shit.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Ash glances from Dylan to Rafe, and then his gaze lands on me, sharp and heavy. “Ty, what’s wrong with Zane?”
“Nothing,” I start, the urge to reassure my little bro overwhelming, but then shake my head. “Not sure.”
“Is he sick?” Since our mom’s death, Ash is kinda paranoid about people getting sick. I can’t blame him, and he hides it pretty well most of the time. “Ty, you’d tell me if he was, right?”
“Yeah. No, he’s not sick. At least, that doesn’t seem to be the problem.”
“He’s not sleeping well,” Dylan says. He glances at me when he repeats what he told me earlier on, “He has night terrors and flashbacks.”
I wince.
I’m damn familiar with those—the nightmares you can’t wake up from until you think you’ll die from fright and pain, and the waking dreams where you walk around thinking you are somewhere else, during some other, fucked up time of your life.
“I thought he got over those,” I whisper. I’ve mostly gotten over mine as my life has settled into a gentler rhythm with the woman I love, my kids, my brother and friends. I thought Zane had experienced the same peace.
“He did, for a while.” Dylan leans back on the sofa, rubbing at his eyes. “They came back.”
“Why the fuck?” Ash is kinda pale, spots of red on his cheeks. Zane is his best buddy, the one who stood by him all the time I was far and gone, wrapped up in my own fucking problems. I know Ash would do anything for him.
As would we all.
“Any idea why he’s getting worse again?” Rafe is also very close to Zane, and there’s a tic in his jaw as he puts down his beer and gestures at Dylan to say more. “Did something happen?”
“Could be the stress of the new baby,” I mutter, although wouldn’t Dylan have said something about it if that was the case?
“Baby boy’s fine,” Dylan says. “Dakota, too, as far as I know.”
He looks doubtful.
Rafe makes a sound of frustration. “Did you talk to Zane? Was he the one who told you all this?”
“No. Dakota mentioned it the other day when we met by chance at Damage. But I knew that something was up with Zane. I mean, fuck, he never comes to the gym anymore, doesn’t talk to us. Dakota says he’s missed half his work appointments this past month.”
I know that. I was the one who had to reschedule his customers, or ask the other inkers of the shop if they could replace him. Thank fuck we have more artists working at the shop now with Shane, Seth and Jesse who finished their apprenticeships in the past year.
But I never gave it much thought. I assumed it had to do with the baby and Dakota, and hey, it’s not as if I haven’t missed work days to help out at home these past months.
“He did seem too quiet last time I saw him,” Rafe mutters. “Fuck, fuck. How did I miss the clues?”
“Makes two of us, man.”
“You guys have newborns in your families,” Ash growls. “What’s my excuse?”
“Hey, before you guys start beating yourselves over the head, how about we fucking talk about this?”
“What’s there to talk about?” Rafe leans back, scowling. “We know nothing. We have to talk to Zane.”
“Good luck with that,” Dylan says. “Think I haven’t fucking tried? He won’t see me. Says he’s too busy.”
“Zane said that?” Things are seriously fucked up when Zane won’t find time to talk to his friends. “Dammit.”
“Yeah.” Dylan rubs his chin. “What shall we do?”
We look at each other, matching frowns on our faces.
“We could have the girls approach him,” Rafe says hesitantly.
“Erin.” Ash nods. “They’re good friends. He won’t say no to her, right?”
“So we’re gonna pussyfoot around this, huh?” I shove my hair out of my eyes. Damn, I need a haircut. “No. I bet he won’t tell Erin what’s really going on, not to worry her. We need to confront him ourselves.”
“What, ambush him? Grab him in the dark and hold him down until he confesses what’s going on inside his head?”
Dylan throws his hands up in the air. “What other choice do we have? This is Zane we’re talking about. He’s a tough nut to crack.” He leans forward, jabs a finger at the table. “I’m not letting him drown into whatever the hell it is that’s eating at him because we didn’t want to ruffle his feathers. We’ll find him, and fucking sit on him until he spills the truth. And then we can help him.”
Silence greets his words. The only sound is Dylan’s harsh breathing.
Well, fuck. “What do you guys think?”
Ash puts a hand on Dylan’s shoulder, squeezes. “I think Dylan’s right. We can’t wait. Not if things are as bad as he says. Zane needs our help, and I’ll be damned if I sit here, doing nothing, waiting for someone else to find out what’s going on.”
“Then it’s a plan,” I say, grabbing a can of beer and popping the top. I lift it, a different salute. “Let’s do this right now.”
Chapter Four
Erin
I wake up late, judging by the light coming in through the windows, to the sound of Isabella wailing, and find Jax gone from beside me.
Sitting up so fast all the blood rushes from my head, I look around for him—then I hear his voice from the next room and slump back, relieved.
I get this fear sometimes that if I turn my back for a second, something will happen to my babies. Once I bent to pick something up from the floor, back when Jax was one year old, and he fell off the sofa, bumped his head. I almost died of fright, though he’d turned out to be perfectly okay, if a little frightened himself.
Well, now I know, right? I know I can do this. I’m not sixteen, alone and scared out of my mind at being a mom anymore. Jax is next door with his dad, and Isabella is only hungry.
I’ve got this.
And why the sudden insecurity?
Carajo, I’m just tired. Tired, horny for my man, and a niggle of worry in my mind reminds me not everything’s as perfect as I’d hoped.
Something about Dakota being unwell. No, not unwell. Sad. That was what Audrey said. And Zane. Zane isn’t well.
Crap.
Fully awake now, I pick Isa up and sit down on the edge of the bed to breastfeed her. She wails until she latches on my breast, and then it’s quiet. I dip my head forward, watching her, stroking the soft dark fuzz on her head, marveling at how tiny she is and how much bigger already than when she was born.
She looks more like me than Jax ever did. He’s the spitting image of Tyler. Speaking of whom…
“How are my girls?” Tyler grins at me from the open door, and it’s that sexy, crooked grin that makes his dark eyes crinkle at the corners and sends warmth pooling between my legs.
I lick my lips. God, I want him. Missed him. I wish I could kidnap him for the night, and I wonder if this time we will make it past kissing before I’m out like a light.
Improbable.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Ready for what?”
“Our evening together.”
I glance down at the baby who’s stilled, looking up at me with big brown eyes, her little mouth still wrapped around my nipple. “And the kids?”
“Don’t you worry about the midgets. Ash and Audrey will stay and babysit.”
My brows are rising to my hairline. “And where are we going?”
He winks. “Wait and see. Tonight I’m gonna give you a preview.”
“Preview of what?”
“O
ur honeymoon.”
A hot blush rises to my cheeks even as I snicker. “Tyler…”
“You know that with marriage come certain expectations, right?”
“Like what?” I’m laughing now, and Isa gurgles at me, releasing my nipple to see why my body’s shaking like this.
“Like sex.”
“Ty, we have two kids together.”
“And your point is?” He braces one muscular arm on the doorjamb, biceps bulging, and I lose my train of thought.
Yeah, what was my point?
“Sex,” I whisper uncertainly.
“That’s right.” He drops his arm and sends me one last heated look before he turns around and walks away.
Oh God, it’s really happening.
I have a date with the daddy of my babies and soon to be husband, and I’m nervous, and excited, but above all nervous because, God, how will I ever look sexy in my milk-stained nursing bra?
And that’s the least of my worries. I really need to pump a lot of milk out of these boobs to avoid any spilling accidents, I need to pack all of Isa’s things and give the guys instructions about when to feed her and how often she wakes up and…. where is Tyler taking me?
Excitement is finally winning out.
***
“Did you find out what was the wrong with Zane?” I ask Tyler as we head out, glancing one last time over my shoulder, torn between giddy joy, guilt over leaving my babies alone—even if it is with their uncle and aunt and cousin—and worry that something will happen to them those few stolen hours I will be far from them. “Is he okay?”
Tyler doesn’t reply immediately, sliding his hand to the small of my back as we go down the stairs.
“Audrey said Dakota was kind of depressed,” I go on, distracted by the heat of his hand as it slips around my hips, hauling me against him as we reach the landing. “Do you think it has something to do—?”
“I’m gonna do something damn selfish,” he rumbles, stopping and turning so that we’re facing each other, so that every inch of my body is pressed to his very hard, very muscular body.
Did I mention hard? Because he is. Very hard where he’s pressed to me.
“Yeah?” I finally breathe. Was I supposed to answer something? Can’t remember. My hot boyfriend is looking down at me, desire in his gaze, dark stubble on his cheeks and that jaw that could cut glass, and all I can think of is how and where he’s going to fuck me.
“Yeah. I don’t wanna talk. Don’t wanna fucking worry, not tonight. Tonight…” He dips his head, brushes his hot mouth over mine and I struggle to follow his voice as he continues. “Tonight I need some time for you and me. I wanna kiss you, lick you, eat you out, make you come. I wanna feel your lips around my cock, then your pussy, clenching, milking me. I wanna come inside you. I love our kids, fucking love them, but I missed you. Let me show you how much.”
I’m on fire, and we haven’t even left the building yet. “God, I missed you, too,” I whisper, trembling, my nervousness and fear gone in the tide of want. “Show me.”
***
The hotel is right out of town, small and quiet and beautiful. I want to ask how much he paid for this but keep my mouth shut. He’s making okay money between manning the front desk at Damage Control and his own thriving graphic design business, and I’m touched he planned this for us.
For me.
Thrilled, too. I’ve never stayed at a hotel before, not with the way my finances have been ever since I had Jax, even with Tyler paying off my debts, and not with the typical lack of time when you’re working and studying and taking care of your young son, only to find the love of your life again and promptly get preggers again.
Not that I regret a single minute of it.
Except for the years where I thought Tyler was dead or worse. I’d return those back in a heartbeat. The tears I shed during those years could fill an ocean.
“You’re a million miles away,” Tyler says, thankfully breaking through my darkening thoughts. He puts his hand under my chin, lifts it until I meet his gaze. “Everything all right, girl?”
“I love you,” I whisper. “I’m just so happy you came back to me.”
“That’s where your mind wandered to, huh?” A shadow passes behind his eyes and I’m sorry for putting it there, tonight of all nights. “The time I spent apart from you was the worst of my life.”
“I know.” I put my hand over his, turn my face to kiss his palm, feel him shudder. “I’m so sorry you went through all that.”
“I’d go through anything to come back to you,” he says quietly, and I smile against his rough palm, because I believe it. “Fuck, I wanna kiss you.”
And then he does, moving our hands away and leaning over to crush his mouth to mine, with teeth and tongue, not holding back. Showing me how much he wants me.
I’m breathless when we break apart after a while, my lips stinging from the attack, my chin scraped by his stubble, and I swear the windows of the car are fogging up.
“Room,” I say and snicker when he reaches down to adjust himself in his pants. “Or we’ll be making out in the parking lot like teenagers.”
“Then we should hurry,” he growls, “because I’m two seconds away from tearing your clothes off and burying myself in you.”
Oh boy.
He can dirty-talk me into an orgasm. He’s done it before, and combined with the flush on his cheeks, and how worked up he seems, knowing I am doing this to him…
Soaked panties, check. Clenching deep inside my belly, check. Heart racing, check. I think if he so much as kisses me again, or touches me, I’ll come.
He opens the door, climbs out and comes around the car to open it for me. He gives me his hand and pulls me out, wraps an arm around me and hauls me toward the hotel so fast I can barely catch up.
He heads straight to the front desk, asks for our key, grabs it and then he bends his knees, grabs my legs and swings me up over his shoulder.
Actually frigging swings me up over his shoulder and strides to the elevators like a proper caveman.
“Tyler! Put me down.” I’m hitting my fists on his back, but I’m laughing too hard to do any damage. “Ty!”
“Told you it’s gonna be a preview of our honeymoon.”
“You can’t… God, Ty, let me down.” I’m wheezing as he lets me slide down the front of his body and drags me into the first elevator that opens.
“Can’t what?”
What indeed? He can do anything to me, and I’d gladly let him. I’d trust him with my life and the lives of our children. And when the doors close, and he kisses me, I melt against him.
I’ve been his all along.
***
We’re kissing again as we stumble through the door into our room, Tyler managing to somehow close it behind us without breaking the kiss, his hands sliding over my body, gripping me tightly. He walks me backward, and even though we’re still dressed and moving, his hard-on brands my belly where it’s caught between us, large and thick, and I don’t think I can wait a second longer to get my hand around it, feel it throb against my fingers.
The back of my knees hit the bed and I gasp. His arm locks around my waist.
“I’ve got you,” he says, and I let him guide my fall on the mattress. I bounce a little and laugh, then stop when he puts his other hand on the bed and lies on top of me, keeping half of his weight off with one knee planted between my legs. “Do you think this is fucking funny?”
He grinds his erection between my legs, against my cotton-clad pussy, and I moan, needing him so badly.
“No,” I whisper.
Not funny at all. He’s so hard it has to be painful, and the way he grunts when I rock my hips a little, sliding up and down his cock, tells me he’s real close.
I do it again, and he gasps, pushing my hips down. “Girl, I’ll come in my pants. Seriously. I’ve been thinking about fucking you for months and weeks, and all day yesterday and today, and the way you move… Damn!”
I laugh
again, and he grins at me, wide and guileless and aroused and beautiful.
“Why are we still dressed?” I whisper, my voice gone all husky.
“Fuck,” he breathes and pushes my dress up my hips. “Can’t fucking wait. Erin, need you now.”
I watched, enthralled, as he unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock. He’s gone commando today, from what I see, and oh God… like every time, the sight of his long, hard shaft makes my pussy clench.
Then I realize what we’re about to do after all this time, and all my insecurity hits full force as he pulls my panties to the side to slide his fingers against my opening.
“Ty…”
His eyes are half-closed with concentration, but he looks up, and the darkness in them transfixes me. “God, you’re beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful, if you could only see yourself…” His thumb flicks over my clit, and I shiver with pleasure. “So hot.”
His thumb strokes me deeper, parting my soaked folds, and I moan. Haven’t even had time to bring myself off all these past weeks, and his touch alone will undo me.
“Do you want it?” he asks, his voice serious. “I’m not hurting you?”
“You’re not,” I whisper. “Please.”
I don’t want to think about it more closely, about how big his cock is. About whether it will hurt. It’s been months.
He grips his hard-on and pushes into me, slowly, aided by my wetness. I brace for pain, but there is none, just that familiar feeling of fullness as he slides in deeper, his breathing coming in harsh pants, his cheekbones flushed.
He’s too big, I can never take the whole of him.
Couldn’t until now.
“Holy shit, Erin!” His mouth drops open as he buries himself inside me balls-deep and hunches over, his hips jerking, his cock throbbing. “Oh fuck.”
I can’t speak. Can’t think. But crap, he feels so incredibly good inside me. Better than ever before, his hard length setting off all my nerve endings like fireworks, turning the slightly uncomfortable feeling of so much of him stuffed inside me into fire and pleasure spreading through my core until I think I’ll burst.
And he hasn’t moved yet.
“God, Ty.” I can’t catch my breath. I reach for his face. “Kiss me.”