All Sinner No Saint
Page 4
Back then, we’d all been prospects, had no power in the MC, and it was to my shame that I’d let her go. I’d die with that sin weighing me down, and that was no lie.
Though I expected her anger, she surprised me, because I watched as she stepped into me, stepped closer so she could curve her arms around my waist. When she did, it felt so fucking right, so perfect I wanted to scream at how long we’d missed out on this for, on how much we’d lost.
Wolfe didn’t know his baby girl, but neither did we, because we were all her daddies.
I knew that to many it was fucked up for Lucie to be with five men. We knew it too, but still, we were brothers in an outlaw MC. Who gave a shit about what was right and what was wrong?
But Bomber had.
I’d only found that out a few months before he died though. The fucker.
“I missed you,” I told her, sincere to the last. I’d never lied to Lucie. She was my equal. Lying to her would be as bad as lying in confession.
Well, if I gave a fuck about any of that shit.
“I missed you too,” she admitted on a sigh, as she burrowed her face into my throat. God, it was like the last time she’d done this was yesterday and not years before.
I was fucking ecstatic she was back, but she still needed warning. “You sure you’re doing the right thing?”
That had her tensing. “What do you mean?”
“Wolfe ain’t the same man he was, babe.” I shrugged. “None of us are. You going, it changed us.”
“I’m surprised you don’t still blame me for what happened,” she whispered, those gorgeous eyes of hers staring deep into mine, looking so far into them that I felt sure she could see my goddamn soul.
“Found out the truth before your pa died. He admitted it to us.” I smirked. “Fucker was lucky he was on the way out. I’d have finished him off for that alone.”
“Yeah, but you believed him the first-time round,” she snapped, shoving me away, but I hauled her right back.
It had been too long since she’d been in my arms, and I wasn’t about to lose her because she had her panties in a twist—even if that was rightfully so.
“Pepper found you with a kilo of coke, Lucie. What the fuck was I supposed to think?” I’d thought she’d be punished, not fucking exiled, and when Bomber had laid down that decree? I’d been too chicken shit to do anything about it.
Her nostrils flared. “That it had been planted? Like it was?”
“And who’d do that? If not your father… he was the only one not fucking terrified of you.”
My nickname was earned. I liked fire. Always had, and that’s why Lucie and I had always got along well. She liked it too. Except, everyone always knew that her daddy would have called her Lucifer if the fuckers at Births, Deaths, and Marriages hadn’t squawked at the sight. They’d settled on Lucie where the law was concerned, but around here? Everyone knew exactly what she was.
Our little hell-raiser.
She popped her lip into her mouth. “Ryan wasn’t scared of me.”
“He was. He just hid it better. Plus, he wasn’t scared you’d lop off his cock in the middle of the night. He just—” I blew out a breath, unsure how to explain it. “You’ve always been like fire, Lucie. Best to have a healthy respect around it.”
“Thanks, I think,” she grumbled, scowling up at me. “Anyway, I’m not as bad as you all say. I mean, I haven’t done half the shit you guys have.”
I snorted. “Because that’s a good thing in decent society. Did you, or did you not, cut off Sparrow’s left testicle?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Did Sparrow, or did he not, get a kick out of watching me shower? Without my consent?”
“I ain’t saying he didn’t deserve an ass-whooping, Lucie, but a man’s ball sack is precious. It’s sacrilegious to lop one off, and that’s why every man here cups himself when you’re around.” I could still remember that fateful day, and I didn’t doubt it was prevalent in Sparrow’s mind too… Ha!
“And I thought it had to do with my tight ass.”
I smirked at her. “That too, but they can’t admit to that when any of us are around, can they? Not without us threatening their right ball sack, as well.”
She giggled, honest to God giggled, and my heart went BOOM. Fuck, what this bitch could do to me.
And fuck if I didn’t love it.
I pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “You want me?” I asked, for the first time in over six years making myself vulnerable to someone with a cunt. “Or just Wolfe?”
She pulled back to gape at me, and if my heart didn’t sing at that sight— well, fuck.
“What the hell do you think?” she snarled, her rage battering me like the flames I loved so much.
“I don’t know, Lucie. I don’t have a clue what your game is. You come back here, making threats and shit, telling Wolfe how it’s going to be? Where do the others and I fit in with your grand plan?”
Her eyes rounded at that, then she about broke me by whispering, “Do you even want me?”
I grabbed her hips and pushed my cock into her belly. “What does that feel like?”
“That’s sex. That means jack shit. I grew up here, Flame, and you know sex is like breathing in this goddamn clubhouse. Just like pissing, shitting, and eating.”
“It’s disturbing that you put those three in the same sentence.”
A smirk was her first reply. “Disturbing is what I do best.”
“How did you live in regular society?” I breathed, curious and concerned at the same time.
“I was good at it, I’ll have you know. A regular old soccer mom.”
“First of all, you’ve never been, and never will be, regular, sweet pea. And you’re not old. You’re what? Twenty-four now?”
She shrugged. “I feel old.” Her hand went to just above her tit and she pushed her fist there. “Inside, where it counts, I feel ancient.”
“Loss will do that to you, Lucie. Your mom, your dad, now Ryan…”
“And you. Axe. Dagger, and Wolfe even if he is a bastard.” She gulped. “You hurt me so much more. You chose to leave me.”
“No, I chose my brothers over you because I was weak.”
Another heavy breath escaped her. “Ryan was better than all of you. He trusted me when none of you did.”
“And yet you still got covered in our marks,” I replied, unable to admit that she was right.
Ryan always had been the best of us.
“Of course. I’m yours and you’re mine. My father and his fucking games weren’t about to change that shit.”
“You feel like showing me where mine is?”
A cocky grin crossed her lips. “I’ll show you. When you deserve to see it.”
“Ouch,” I whispered, my eyes lighting up with delight.
This woman had me by both balls, and as long as she didn’t cut either of them off, I was more than okay with that.
❖
Lucie
Being in Flame’s arms was both heaven and hell.
It was where I always should have been, and yet, things were still up in the air. Nothing was resolved, and it wouldn’t be until I dealt with Wolfe.
If there was any dealing to be done, that is.
I didn’t need Flame’s reassurance that all was changed where the Prez was concerned. Wolfe had always been closed off. Always been difficult to read. He was also the most violent and the quickest to anger.
Dealing with him was like handling fire, and Flame knew how much I loved that.
As he guided me down the hall to the Prez’s office, it was hard not to remember all the times I’d been shepherded in here by a brother to be bestowed a token reprimand by my daddy.
I’d had a lot of issues as a kid.
A lot.
More than most social workers had dared deal with. But hell, it had been a cry for help. My mom had run out on me when I was a kid, my dad was barely interested, and I lived in a fucking MC… it was a wonder I hadn’t
pulled worse shit when I was a kid.
“Remember that time you set fire to Mrs. Pearson’s car?”
Flame’s tone was reminiscent, nostalgic even, whereas for me, it was a shitty memory. From a shittier time.
These guys hadn’t always been mine.
They’d all had girlfriends, and I’d had to endure each of them, from the sluts to the preppy bitches who were trying things out on the rough side of the tracks. There was a five-year age gap between them and me, and even as I’d wondered why the fuck they’d let me hang around them, they’d always just taken me along for the ride. I was like their mascot, and I’d hated it. But I’d loved it too, because I got to be with them all the time.
Of course, that had presented the problem of being around their many lays.
Mrs. Pearson had given me an ‘F’ on a paper that deserved an ‘A-‘ minimum. She did that because one of her daughters had been fucked over by Wolfe, and she’d made it her goal in life to make me miserable. As if I hadn’t been miserable enough, having watched Wolfe and that pain-in-the-ass daughter of hers together.
So I’d made my first cocktail to commiserate.
Molotov-style.
And shit if I hadn’t loved the way the bitch’s car had gone up in flames.
I should have gone to juvie for that prank, except Ryan had helped me. He’d cut the cameras to the school parking lot and had created a diversion—we’d set off the fire alarm. Yup, two crimes in one day.
“Thought your dad was gonna take a belt to you for that one,” he admitted.
“He probably should have.” Was it weird that I’d wanted him to? Hell, if he had, it would have proved he cared, instead of just tolerating me all the damn time.
“Can you imagine what Amaryllis will do when she’s your age?” He whistled. “Glad you brought her here just for the show.”
I elbowed him in the side. “Amaryllis is normal.”
That made him snort. “So normal she didn’t run from the big, bad biker… Nope, she got into a catfight with him.”
I shot him a look. “I taught her to fight for what she believes in.”
“She’s, what…? Five, Lucie, you don’t teach girls that shit at five.”
“How the hell would you know? I don’t see you with any sisters.”
He shrugged. “I watch TV. I know at five you teach them how to eat and shit.”
Snickering, I patted his arm. “Good thing I have the parenting stuff handled. Don’t worry, she doesn’t go potty in her pants anymore.”
That had him shuddering. “Thank fuck for that.”
Having successfully turned my frown upside down, I didn’t knock on the door into Wolfe’s office. He wasn’t my daddy. He was my man. I’d claimed him, so he was mine, and I didn’t knock on my man’s goddamn door like I was a servant.
When I headed in, dumping my purse on a sideboard by the door, he was seated behind the desk that had been my father’s, in the same chair too. Other shit had changed though. The room no longer smelled of weed and JD, and there was a brand-new laptop that was purring as he rocked back in the desk chair to look me over.
It was hard as fuck keeping my libido under control at the sight of him. When he rocked back, he raised his hands and cupped his head to support his neck, as he looked me up and down like I was a whore he’d just bought for the night.
The comparison didn’t sit well with me, and I knew, right then and there, that was why he’d done it.
The motherfucker.
Ignoring Axe and Dagger, who were seated on two chairs in the corner, their legs splayed out in front of them with two beer bottles on the table between them, and Flame who’d wandered in behind me, I strode toward the desk and slammed my hands down on the surface.
“What?” I demanded.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I beg your pardon.”
I almost snorted at the polite inquiry, which was so un-one-percenter like it was disrespectful.
Exactly how he intended it.
Begging my pardon? What was this? Great Expectations?
I’d let him know what my expectations were soon enough, and no mistake.
“You can beg me for a lot of things, sugar, but my pardon ain’t something you’re about to get. Forgiveness has to be earned, and you’re a long way from earning shit.”
Behind me, Dagger snickered, and I shot him a look. “You’re all included in that. The only one who stood up for me is dead now—”
“If we’re all so fucking useless, why do you want us back?” Wolfe snarled, leaning forward as the vein in his temple began to throb.
I skimmed my gaze over Axe and Dagger, then caught Wolfe’s eye once more. Having stopped lolling back in his chair to surge into my face, I found he was now getting to his feet. When he mirrored my position, I didn’t flinch. I wasn’t scared. It took a hell of a lot to scare me—and the only thing that did?
The Grim Reaper.
He took away people I loved and didn’t give them a say in the matter.
He was the only evil I couldn’t fight, but Wolfe? I could fight him, and I’d get wet over it.
“How many times do I have to tell you? You’re mine. You’re not fucking Kim’s. You’re not whichever sluts’ you’ve been fucking since I’ve been gone. You’re mine. I claimed you when I was a little girl, reinforced that when I made you fuck me at seventeen, and now I’m here, with your daughter, telling you, that you. Are. Mine.”
He gritted his teeth so hard I could hear the grinding noise.
“You didn’t make me fuck you—”
“Didn’t I? Sneaking into your bed, waking you up with a BJ, and then climbing on your cock wasn’t enough of a giveaway that I was in charge?” I sneered, slamming my hands on my hips as I stared him down.
“I let you—”
“Hell yeah, you let me. You let me cum all over that big dick of yours.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Never thought to wonder if we’d made a baby those nights though, did you?” My lips curved in a sneer. “None of you did.”
“You came to us unprotected on purpose?” Wolfe asked, his brow furrowed, and it was then that I saw his rage and it burned me.
God, how it burned, and God, how I loved it.
I only ever felt alive when I was in the crosshairs of these men, and I’d been dying without them. Ryan loved me and I loved him. More than he ever knew. But I was four-fifths empty without these bastards at my side. In my bed. In my heart.
“Of course,” I told him. “Oldest trick in the book. I knew you were going to get all prim on me.” I’d never expected it to take over six months for me to get pregnant, but when I’d been kicked out, his baby had been in my belly. Ironically, enough, without my even knowing it.
“Prim?” he croaked.
“Yeah. Prim. ‘You’re too young to know what you want, Lucie.’ ‘You’re not old enough to understand what you’re asking for, Lucie.’ I knew, I knew from the first moment I claimed you,” I declared, rolling my eyes as I straightened, folding my arms across my chest—not in a self-defense mechanism, but to plump up my tits.
“You manipulative bitch,” he choked out, but his eyes dropped to my tits and lingered there long enough for him to be sporting wood.
Flame laughed. “You’re only just figuring that out?”
I shot him a look over my shoulder, then when he just winked at me, I laughed too and blew him a kiss because, as always, no matter what shit I did, he accepted me. Warts and all.
His smile died and before I knew it, he was there. In my face. His hands in my hair, tilting my head, bringing me to my knees figuratively as he kissed me.
Goddammit.
God. Dammit.
He plunged his tongue between my lips, fucking me there, claiming me, making me his. And all the while, his brothers watched. They didn’t stop this. Didn’t stop something that was as natural as breathing.
They let him mark me.
Let him kiss me and claim me this way, and I wasn’t about to stop him.
Flame was exactly like his namesake—walking fire. His hair was dark auburn and the man had eyes like a raptor’s—they were a light brown that was close to amber, and when you looked at him, his eyes seemed alight in his face that was covered in freckles. The man was like that all over. Seriously. Freckles were everywhere. But on his face? There wasn’t a place I could put my fingertip without touching one.
Somehow, that made him all the more beautiful to me. His jaw was chiseled and strong, hidden by a neat beard that rounded his mouth, covering his top lip with more red. His nose a long, thin blade that I’d punched more than once in my life, and his brows matched all the drapes. The dude was seriously redheaded. I mean, a total, utter redhead.
I fucking loved it.
Loved him.
I clung to him, and I clung to no man except the four in this room and the other who was in my bags, stored away until the Rebels could hold a ceremony for him.
I felt hands grip my shirt and knew they belonged to Wolfe. It was pulled over my head, and within seconds, the straps of my bra were dragged down and the catch unfastened. My tits spilled free as my one good arm was grabbed—fucking cast—and though I knew that meant the other two had joined in, I wasn’t overwhelmed.
This was how it always should have been.
I growled as Flame pulled back to nip my lip and haul me up against him. Instinctively, I spread my legs and gripped him tight as he stared into my eyes with those amber ones of his and bit off, “You sure?”
“Cold feet?” I taunted, panting as I uttered the words.
“Nothing about me is cold, darlin’,” he said in that cocksure way of his, that had been the prompt for one of the smacks I’d delivered to his beak.
I clamped my thighs harder against him. “I figured that out a long time ago.”
“You’re still jailbait, even if you’re legal now,” he stated with a smirk, then he lowered his head and nipped my nipple with his teeth.