Possessive_A Bad Boy Second Chance Motorcycle Club Romance

by Kathryn Thomas

  Leo held her tightly in his muscular, bare arms. The sun glistened down on their tan skin as he pulled her impossibly closer. Almost every part of their bodies intertwined in a weave of flesh and bone. Leo longed to envelope her, to feel her from the inside. She was almost everything he imagined her to be. And now that he had her there, on his boat, far away from the noise and the mess of the world they left behind, she was his to do what he may.

  Her brown hair whipped back and forth against her naked back as the wind tossed it back and forth. Leo held the strands in place as she slowly untied her swimsuit top halter straps from behind her neck. The fabric inched down her body as she moved to the ties around her back. When she removed the knot, she took the top and threw it to the side. Both laughed as they watched it fall from the top deck to the wooden planks of the yacht.

  “Should I?” She stood on her tippy toes to whisper into his ears. Her hands gently traced the outline of his hardened cock as the other ran her fingers through the waistband.

  “Not yet…” He could barely speak. The way she was touching and grinding rendered him speechless. Leo turned a bit to grab the tropical drink sitting on the small bar table.

  She reached up to the glass as he chugs the sugary, strawberry flavored concoction down. “Save some for me!” she urgently cried to him.

  “Make me, darling. This one’s mine.” He smiled, revealing the piece of pineapple that formerly rested on the rim of the frothy glass. “But I’ll share this with you.”

  She took a step back and studied him. Humor filled her glossy blue eyes as she craned her neck back and opened her red painted lips. He dropped the piece, fruit first as she sucked gently on it, luring out all of its juices. A bit of the yellow liquid escaped her mouth as she took a bite and pulled it away from his mouth. She chewed the rest of it as her hand dabbed at her mouth. He, too, licked his lips. Every bit of her was as delicious as it looked.

  He shouted to the cabin as a man appeared holding a tray with more drinks. This time, it was champagne with orange and strawberry juice. Without acknowledging his hired help, he took the crystal flutes from him and handed one to his partner. She chugged it back even faster than him, swallowing it all in one large gulp. He watched her, impressed as he sips on his. She took another from the silver tray and repeated the motion.

  He cautioned her as he drank his glass, “Woah there, girl. Don’t go too fast. We don’t want to end this perfect day too soon.”

  “Don’t tell me what I can do, Lionheart. I know how much liquor I can hold.” She was drunk, and she knew it. But she couldn’t care less. She needed the courage alcohol gave her to do what had to be done.

  Leo stared her down from toe to head, studying the way she peered over his shoulder and the way her body turned and posed in such sensual ways. He couldn’t help it anymore. Leo scooped the woman up with both his hands so she was just hovering over the ground. He let out a low, guttural growl, “Don’t call me Lionheart!”

  She let out a yelp as he placed her on the metal bars. She was just one wrong move from falling overboard. Still, neither of them cared. His head dived towards her bare breasts as his lips circled her nipples and his tongue flicked at the small brown tips. His hands pulled her thin, oiled thighs towards him so she could feel every bit of his erection pressing up against the thin material of her bikini bottom.

  “Mmmm. Now that looks like fun. Save some for me, guys.” A soft, slurred third voice approached him from behind. The other woman’s arms circled around his waist as he could feel her naked body press against his. Leo lowered the girl onto the deck and spun around to give attention to the other. She tasted just like rum and the imported truffles he had in his bedroom. Her hair was still tangled from their last romp.

  Leo led the three women to the deck’s doorway. As he turned, a faint glitter catches his attention. Despite being drunk, he could tell it was not just the sun popping off the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. “Fernando?” he called to his boat’s staff.

  The smallish man stuck his head out from the doorway where the women just entered. “Yes, sir? Shall I bring more drinks?”

  “Yes, please. Bring the bottle to my room. Ask the girls what they want, as well. But, Fernando, did you spot us passing any boats on our way out here?”

  Fernando stood still as a statue as he looked forward. It wasn’t his job to become too chummy with the ship’s passengers—nor to pass judgments on their lifestyle. He was there to work. “Yes, sir. I believe we passed a few speedboats. Nothing too lavish like this.”

  Leo’s mind tried to wrap around what his man had tried to tell him, but the alcohol had gotten in the way. He tried the direct approach instead. “Did you see any cameras? Any photographers? Anyone taking pictures of us.”

  Fernando swallowed as he answered, “Yes, sir. About a half hour ago, I believe there were photographers—”

  He stopped suddenly as Leo grabbed him by his collar and lifted him off of the ground by his shoulders. “What the fuck, man? Seriously?! What the actual fuck?” He paced around nervously. “Do you know what I was doing when they were taking photos?”

  “You were, er...” He swallowed, unsure what to say, “In an embrace with Miss Layana as she removed her top…I believe.”

  “Dammit!” Leo screamed, his hands running through his hair. Fernando took ten steps back towards the door as he regretted ever taking this job. Leo dismissed him with the wave of his hand.

  Getting caught by the paparazzi wasn’t the alarming part of what he was told. It was being photographed outside of the US with a woman who was married. The large amount of glasses and bottles on the table most likely didn’t help him either. He was not supposed to be here with her or with the alcohol. He was supposed to be hold up in some rehab facility in Tahoe.

  He dove his hands into the pockets of his black board shorts as he fished out his phone. He barely had reception out at sea, but he did have enough to make a call to the one person he knew would help. “Jonathan? It’s Leo. Look, we have a big problem.”

  “Talk to me, Leo.” Jonathan’s voice sounded distracted as Leo could hear voices in the background.

  “I’m not in Tahoe, man. I broke out. I couldn’t take that place anymore with its hippy, new wave bullshit. I’m not a meditating kind of guy, if you know what I mean.” Leo tried to come off sober, but the way he slurred his consonants and rambled on clearly gave him away. He already lied about one thing, why try to conceal some more?

  “You’re what? What the fuck are you doing?” Jonathan’s cool broke. The voices in the distance grew farther away as he continued. His own voice grew muffled to a whisper as he continued, “You know the judge isn’t gonna like this. She was already gunning for you. You pulling this stunt is gonna land you in jail. Do you want that, man?”

  “No, I don’t. I just needed an escape.” Leo tried to justify it, but he knew Jonathan wouldn’t understand. He was the guy that played by the rules, or at least tried to bend them for his clients. Leo knew Jonathan’s life would be so much easier if he just did as he was told.

  Jonathan remained silent until Leo spoke again, “I took the Lady Helena out to sea. I figured I wouldn’t get caught. No one would see me. It’s not like I went to some bar or crashed a spring break event. I just went from the airport to the boat.”

  “Who knows where you are?” Jonathan asked, calculating the risk.

  “The four crew guys and the captain.” Leo looked around him for prying ears as he continued, “And Layana Richards and her friend Sophie…something.”

  “Layana Richards? For fuck’s sake man! You know she’s married to the commissioner! I hope, for your sake, the photographers didn’t catch her.”

  Leo looked into the cabin at the man who he just accosted. He was frantically pouring drinks into the crystal stemware. Leo could see his hands tremble as the bottle’s rim clinked up against the clear glass. “That’s the reason why I’m calling, Jon. Fernando, the, uh, butler or something—he says he thought he saw a boat
of photographers pass by while Layana and I were—uh—doing—oh for fuck’s sake, you know what.”

  “I get it. I get it. But there’s nothing we can do right now. Get your ass back to Chicago ASAP and don’t let anyone else catch you. In fact, I’m sending you a car. Don’t you dare fly. The driver will be at the pier in an hour. I expect you make that ride. He’ll check you in at the Beacher. I expect you remain quiet. And sober. Got it?”

  Leo’s attention was fading. He had walked into the cabin’s master suite where the two women were stretched over his bed. Sophie remained topless while Layana had wrapped herself up in one of the white silk robes from his bathroom. They were both eyeing him with a deep hunger.

  “Leo!” Jonathan screamed into the receiver, forgetting he was supposed to be whispering.

  “Yeah. I hear you. The Beacher Inn. Car. At the pier. One hour. Bye, Jonathan.” Leo clicked his phone off and handed it to Fernando who followed behind him with the newly filled tray and an additional bottle of champagne.

  “Girls!” Leo called out, opening his arms out wide as he entered the palatial room. “Tonight we drink. Because tomorrow, I’m back to Chicago.” He took the first glass he could get ahold of, not caring what it was, and then tossed it back dramatically as he bent his entire body in the motion.

  “Fernando! Tell the captain we need to head back to the pier. I’ve got a guy there waiting.” Fernando scurried back again to his post. He shut the door behind him just as Leo removed his shorts and dived into the white sheets of his yacht’s king-sized bed, four arms ready to catch him.

  ...

  Bailey had heard Leo’s calls and his closing of the door, but Bailey couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. She had not moved from her spot near the counter where her own brown, tan, and white envelopes were scattered. On the top of the pile was one addressed to her.

  The handwriting was hard to make out, but Bailey instantly recognized its sender. She slowly ripped the folds of the envelope and carefully peeled back to the seal as if the sender had mailed a bomb. As she removed the letter, she inhaled a deep, calming breath. Whatever the letter said, she had to read it. Her and her daughter’s life depended upon it. Her ex-husband had found her and it was only a matter of time before Joe discovered where Lily was.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Who do you think you are? You must be one crazy bitch if you think I wouldn’t find you. How dare you take MY daughter from me! Now you’re making me do this. You’re going to regret every day of the rest of your life from here on out, Bailey. I’m getting Lily first, and then I’m coming for you.

  —Joe

  ***

  At first, there was a tiny coo—followed quickly by a large, lung-filling scream. Bailey watched as a miniature red fist shot up in the arm followed by the sight of an equally tiny and red foot. Bailey’s grandmother squeezed her shoulder as the doctor announced jubilantly, “It’s a girl, Bailey! A beautiful, healthy baby girl!”

  Bailey watched a nurse as she covered Lily in a white towel and then place her on her chest. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, but as Lily’s eyes fluttered open under the harsh bright lights of the room, Bailey instantly encircled her arms around her and inhaled her scent. She laughed as she said, “My Lily. My darling. Your mommy loves you.”

  “Honey? Do you want me to go get him?” Grandmother leaned down and whispered in her ear just out of range of the rest of the hospital staff.

  “No. Let him wait.” Bailey had not wanted to give an answer. This was her time with her daughter. Everything else in the world, no matter what it may be, could wait.

  “Are you sure?” Grandmother’s soft forehead wrinkled and creased inwards. She did not know what happened. She did not know why Bailey insisted that the only person in the delivery room be her grandmother and no one else. She did not know why her husband, the father of her child, was forced to miss the birth of his own daughter.

  But Bailey had no time or even want to explain. This moment was supposed to last her entire life. She did not want to look back on it thinking of only him or the circumstances of why she was delivering four weeks early. Today was about her and Lily, not about the man who had pushed Bailey down the stairs in a drunken rage, sending her into a sudden and painful preterm labor.

  The two snuggled together as the doctor and nurses performed the rest of their duty. It all happened in a cloud of love and uncertainty, but Baily just kept on holding tighter until she was told it was time for Lily to be taken to a nursery. She kissed her goodbye and promised to see her shortly.

  As the nurse opened the door to her room to wheel out Lily’s crib, she caught a glimpse of the man in cut up jeans and a ripped t-shirt. A hat was over his eyes as he slept off the alcohol. The cart with her daughter swiftly passed him without disturbing his sleep. Bailey breathed in a sigh of relief. Even he couldn’t bring himself to be present when he had the chance.

  But once she was settled in her bedroom with Lily sleeping calmly by her side in her clear plastic bassinet, it was a completely different story. As her nurse carefully removed her wires, Bailey could hear the faint sound of an angry man storming the hallways opening doors to patient rooms and calling out her name. The young nurse turned to her. “Is that your husband?” she asked in a stern but kind manner.

  Bailey swallowed hard as she nodded her head. A lump in her throat started to move its way to the top as she realized he was only getting closer. And the nurse was of no help, “He should know better than to make a racket in the Mother and Baby wing!” Judgment oozed out of her as she rolled her eyes as Joe finally began banging on her own door. She opened it up, just wide enough for him to burst through, forcefully pushing her behind the door in the process.

  “Who do you think you are, Bailey Reed?! That’s my child! MY DAUGHTER!” The smell of booze on his already rancid breath seemed impossibly stronger than before. Bailey had to wonder if he had actually brought his signature silver flask with him into the waiting area.

  “Joe, please. Calm down.” She watched as the nurse sunk out of the room, just glancing back at her long enough to give her a knowing, suspicious look.

  “I am not going to calm down! Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down!” He began to pace in the wild way he always did when he was angry. His feet couldn’t seem to catch up with themselves as he tripped on his own shoes every few steps. His dark palms flexed and stretched into balled up fists as he sped up. “Do you understand what you did to me? I missed my own daughter’s birth! How could you do that to me?”

  Bailey tried to muster up the adrenaline she had from the birth as she gnawed away at the inside of her cheek. She had so much to say to him, but she couldn’t risk it. Instead, she lowered her head softly and said, “If you make a scene, they won’t let us take her home. Please, Joe. Just chill.”

  “I’m not going to calm down, goddammit! And no one is taking my fucking baby!” Rage poured out of the tiny man like a waterfall. His charcoal black eyes bulged out of his head as the blue and purple veins in his neck popped. He was inches from her face as she remained tethered to her hospital bed.

  Bailey knew what was going to happen next. She had been used to the routine, the rage, the anger. But when it did, she still found herself shocked and saddened. The slap across her cheek wasn’t that hard. He could barely find her in the mess of booze drowning his mind. Yet, he made contact to her skin sending piercing hot flames up and down her face. Her own had instantly went up to the spot where he had made his mark and cradled it gently. The tears in her eyes had fallen from the force, soaking her nails and fingertips.

  “I’m—I’m—I’m sorry, Joe. I’m sorry.” She turned her face away from him knowing he was most likely winding up for a second go. The first one wouldn’t have satisfied him enough.

  “I’m sorry? I’m sorry?” He mocked her, laughing maniacally. “Is that all you got to say for yourself, woman?” His hand rose high, this time in a fist.

  “Yes. That’s all she’s got to say
. And if you don’t leave in two seconds, you bet I’m gonna call security on you.” Josephine, Bailey’s grandmother, stood in the corner of the room. Her already ashy face had gone pale. In her arms was a vase and an arrangement of pink and purple flowers from her own garden.

  Joe turned to her, directing his anger in her direction, “I don’t want you to be next, old lady. Leave us alone. This is a private affair.” He took two giant steps towards her.

  But instead of cowering away or slipping out the door, Josephine stood strong. She set down the flowers on a bedside table and also took two steps toward him. She lowered her voice as she sneered, “Joe Malnuty, don’t you dare threaten me. I’ve known you since you were a child. I know you’re nothing but a black soul with no heart. Whatever my grandbaby saw in you, I'll never know. But this is the end of it. You don’t touch her. You don’t threaten her. And if you so much as dare to lay a mean hand on that new baby of yours, I will go to the ends of the earth to see you torched. Do you hear me?”