Owen: The Lost Breed MC #9

by Parker, Ali

  “Anything else?”

  There was ketchup on the table and plenty of napkins, so I shook my head. “We’re good. Thanks.”

  “Holler if you need anything,” she said as she was already walking away.

  I set to work on my food and popped two fries in my mouth. Evangeline was still getting herself settled and was sniffling softly.

  I pulled a napkin out of the chrome box beside the ketchup and passed it to her. “Here.”

  She took the napkin, dabbed under her eyes and her nose, and then crumpled it into a small ball. I didn’t see where it went, but it disappeared. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I could have given you a heads-up that things were going to get dark real quick.”

  She shook her head. “No. That’s not what I meant. It’s not your fault what happened to the Rogues.”

  I hesitated with my burger halfway to my mouth.

  She licked her lips and stared at me. “I know you, Owen. I might know you better than almost anyone. And I also know you probably wake up every morning wishing you hadn’t swung at Reed. But it’s not your fault.”

  I put my burger down.

  Damn her for being so intuitive.

  “I wouldn’t say every morning,” I said.

  Evangeline ran her finger under her lashes, wiping away bits of wet mascara. “I can only imagine how angry you were.”

  I nodded. “Things were pretty bad for a long time.”

  I thought back to all the fights I’d gotten into after Reed wiped most of us out. At the time, I was hellbent on convincing myself and the remaining Red Rogues that the fights were just a distraction. That I was only looking for something to take the pain and the guilt away for just a few minutes.

  But each fight had a higher and higher cost.

  When my bar battles started landing me in the hospital, Rhys put his foot down. He was just as broken as I was, maybe even worse off after Max was killed, but he was still there and able to put me in my place.

  He told me I was looking for the easy way out.

  I was looking for someone to end my misery for me.

  And then he’d become so furious, I thought he might kill me himself.

  “So New York was a fresh start?” Evangeline asked, guiding me away from those unsettling memories.

  “Yes. In a sense. When we came here, it wasn’t for a clean slate. We tracked Reed here. He was doing the same thing to another crew that he did to us, and he’d only just got started. So we tossed our hats in the ring and offered to help them put him down.”

  “I thought clubs didn’t work together like that?”

  “They don’t,” I said. “Not usually. But they were in a bad spot. Reed had already killed two of them, and I think their boss was realizing that Reed wouldn’t stop until he was surrounded by the corpses of his brothers.” I shifted in my seat and reached for the ketchup, which I squirted on my plate. I handed it to Evangeline, and she did the same. “At first, they wanted nothing to do with us. But Rhys was stubborn as hell, and we ended up getting our way in. And we were there when they cornered Reed. And Rhys put him down.”

  “He killed him?” she breathed.

  I nodded. “Shot him.”

  She bit her bottom lip.

  “Don’t feel bad, Angel. The guy deserved the bullet he got. And it doesn’t weigh heavy on Rhys, either. Hell, I think it set him free. That’s why Ryder gave him the gun.”

  “Ryder?”

  “Our new boss.”

  She reeled under this new information. “New boss? Rhys isn’t—”

  “Nope. Ryder is the President of the Lost Breed MC here in New York City. He took us in. Gave us a new home. Set us up for success. He’s a good man, Angel. As good as they come. Rhys is more than happy working for him. And, you should know, he and Quinn are together now.”

  “Really?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting and her lips curling up in a smile. I was happy to lead the conversation in a lighter direction.

  “Really. Shit isn’t all bad. Not anymore. We’re back on our feet, and this feels like home now.”

  “I’m glad.”

  I nodded at her plate. “Eat up. You said you were famished. I’d hate for my sob story to steal your appetite.”

  Evangeline looked at her plate and ran her hands down her thighs.

  Damn it. I had spoiled it for her.

  I should have kept my fucking mouth shut. Everything that happened in Chicago was not her problem. It was my burden to bear.

  I took a bite of my burger and hoped it would spur her into eating as well. “What about you?”

  She picked up a fry and took a bite. “What about me?”

  “Any mass murders happen in your last seven years?” I joked.

  She didn’t see the humor in it and shook her head. “No. Thank God. I’ve been luckier than you. Then again, I think I always have been.”

  I wouldn’t argue that point.

  She finished her fry and moved on to her burger. After a few bites, she dabbed her lips on her napkin, leaving a perfect pink imprint of her mouth on the paper. “Things in my neck of the woods have been pretty good. Uneventful compared to your seven years. Daddy is still kicking ass, and his Clear Ocean program has taken off. He’s touring the country and giving speeches and even some lectures at universities now. It’s making a difference.”

  “That’s great. You must be proud.”

  “I am. I’m holding down the fort here if things come up. They don’t that often. But if a client needs to meet with my father and he can’t get to New York, I step in.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  She studied me. Her blue eyes, bright and clear as the sky, danced back and forth between mine. “Sometimes.”

  “Just sometimes?”

  Evangeline drew her long braid over her shoulder and ran her fingers over it. “I mean, yes. It’s a good job. And I’m proud of what I’m contributing to and the fact that I’m part of the family business. But I don’t really like a lot of the clients. They look down on me, and I think they try to get away with things they would never try to pull if it was my father in the room instead of me.”

  “So, sexist pricks?”

  She smiled. “Yes. Sexist pricks.”

  “Do you think they don’t take you seriously?”

  She laughed. “Oh, I know they don’t take me seriously. I can’t tell you how many of them have asked for my personal number at the end of business meetings. It’s appalling.”

  I shrugged. “Can you blame them? I mean, look at you.”

  She arched an eyebrow, and I immediately got the sense I was walking on thin ice. “So that means it’s okay for them to behave like pigs in the workplace? Because I’m attractive?”

  I swallowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I hope not,” she said, and then she cracked a smile to let me know all was forgiven. “Besides working for my father and moving to New York, not much is new with me. Auntie Francine is doing well. She’s back at the manor in Chicago, keeping everything in working order for my father. He’d be lost without her, and I probably never would have moved here if she wasn’t still living at the house.”

  “Well, I’ll have to thank her sometime then.”

  Evangeline blushed.

  We finished our meals, and I paid the tab. Evangeline, always respectful of our financial differences, did not insist on covering the bill herself because she had more money. She graciously accepted, picked up her helmet, and winked at me. “Take me back to my penthouse? I’ll show you my digs.”

  “Is that a proposition?”

  “I don’t know. Depends how fast you’re willing to ride to get me home.”

  I parked in the underground of Evangeline’s swanky apartment building about ten minutes later. We were lucky to not have passed any cops because I was definitely breaking a hell of a lot of traffic laws to get her home as s
oon as I could. She assured me it would be perfectly fine to leave the helmets with the bike unattended, and we headed to the elevator. She pressed the button for the top floor, and we rode up quietly.

  She stood with her hands clasped in front of her and glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “It’s kind of weird to be inviting you to my place. Like old times, huh?”

  If this was going to be like old times, I was about to become one very lucky bastard.

  “Just like old times,” I said. The elevator doors opened, and I found myself standing in a grand foyer. The ceiling above was glass, and sunlight streamed in, lighting up the space between the elevator and Evangeline’s front door. She slid her key into the lock and pushed it open.

  I stepped into a bright, beautiful, spacious penthouse suite. The floors were the same shimmering white marble as those downstairs in the lobby. The ceilings were high and arched with white support beams. Her ceiling was littered with skylights and pot lights, giving the place an even bigger, grander feel.

  Her kitchen was the shit out of magazines, with white cupboards and counters that glittered. The chandelier above the table in the dining room must have cost upwards of twenty-thousand dollars. The whole place was surrounded in windows, and straight ahead were balcony doors opening up onto a massive balcony overlooking the city.

  And, naturally, there was a swimming pool out there.

  “Well shit,” I breathed, turning in a circle and soaking in the sight of it all. “This is exactly like old times.”

  Chapter 10

  Evangeline

  Owen’s mouth was hanging open as he looked around at my penthouse in awe and shock.

  “Not bad, huh?” I asked, popping out a hip and resting it against the kitchen island as I folded my arms under my breasts.

  He turned toward me while rubbing the back of his neck. “Not bad? I’d hate to imagine what you would fawn over.”

  I chuckled softly. “I’ll admit. I was a bit awestruck by this place too when I first saw it.”

  “So, naturally, you bought it.”

  “Naturally.” I smiled.

  “I’m proud of you, Angel. You’ve done really well for yourself. At least one of us was of sound enough mind to move past our bullshit and get their head on straight.”

  I hated how he did that. How he lumped himself in with a category he seemed to deem less worthy of happiness. Of love. “One of us had a hell of a lot more shit to go through, Owen. And it wasn’t me. I got lucky with all of this. I didn’t work for it. It fell into my lap.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Of course it is!” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “My father made sure I had one of the nicest suites in New York City. In fact, it was one of his terms in even letting me move out here in the first place.”

  “Letting?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You heard me. I love him dearly but sometimes…” I shook my head and trailed off, not willing to speak ill of my father out loud.

  It was just that sometimes, he treated me like a child. Or like his most prized possession that he needed to put on a pedestal for the rest of the world to see.

  Or instead of a pedestal, a very high-rise luxury condo in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the United States.

  Same thing, right?

  Owen shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it over the back of a bar stool before leaning on the other side of the kitchen island. He peered up at me from under his hooded brow. “He just wants you to be safe.”

  “He underestimates me.”

  “Yes, he does,” Owen said simply.

  I sighed and rubbed my temples. “I’m so glad I ran into you last night. It feels so good to talk to someone I don’t have to—I don’t know—put on a show for. Does that make sense? I can just be me.”

  “It makes perfect sense,” Owen said softly. And then he was moving toward me. He came around the island, stopped in front of me, and lifted a hand to my cheek. “Because I feel the same way. I’ve missed you, Angel. I’ve really fucking missed you.”

  I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek into his warm, callused palm. It felt so right; so safe and familiar. I took a slow and steady breath and tried to capture this feeling of calm in my heart so I could replicate it later.

  But it was interrupted by a soft kiss upon my lips.

  Owen’s fingers slipped from my cheek to cup the nape of my neck as his tongue slipped between my lips. I didn’t resist.

  How could I?

  This was Owen McCully.

  This was the man who, despite all my best efforts, still carried a piece of me around with him everywhere he went since we’d parted seven years ago.

  His kiss was hot and needy and just as intense as it was all those years ago. I let out a soft moan as I let my defenses fall.

  Being intimate with a man was not a luxury of mine. Not with my life. Men always wanted something from me. If it wasn’t a business opportunity, it was sex, and if it was sex, it wasn’t the sort of sex to write home about. It was them planting their flag in the stand to declare that they had conquered Evangeline Snow, and then they would move on to another target. Or, in worse cases, they might try to get me under their thumb so they could get a taste of my father’s wealth and influence for themselves.

  That was why it was easier to avoid men in general.

  But Owen wasn’t like those others. He was good to his core. Even though he ran in bad circles and he’d broken a lot of bones and shed a lot of blood, I knew that he was good. Strong. Brave. He had a core set of values and morals that he would never compromise, and he would do anything to keep me safe.

  That was why he’d left in the first place.

  To keep me safe. To keep me away from his hell or high-water lifestyle.

  But now he was back. And he was kissing me. And his fingers were sinking into my hair, and all I could think about was going to my knees and reminding him how good I could be to him.

  Reminding him how good we could be to each other.

  I pulled away just far enough to stare into his eyes when I opened mine. “Are we doing this?” I whispered.

  “Are you asking my permission?” He chuckled. I shook my head. “Do you want me to ask for yours?”

  I shook my head again.

  Owen nipped at my bottom lip, and I smiled. Then he pressed his cheek to mine and slid forward so that his mouth was right by my ear. When he spoke, his hot breath tickled my neck, and my knees ached something terrible. “Then tell me what you want me to do, Angel.”

  I wet my lips and shivered as he ran his hand up my hip to the waistband of my jeans. He slid his finger along the top, pausing at my navel. Then he pushed his hand flat to my stomach and inched it down so that his fingers slid under my panties.

  I sighed.

  “I want to suck your cock,” I whispered as my legs trembled.

  His fingers moved farther down until they hovered on the place above my clit. He rubbed the sensitive skin there, knowing how delirious his teasing could make me. Then, like the devil he was, he pinched my earlobe between his teeth. “And then what?”

  My eyes nearly rolled back in my head as my veins caught fire with lust. “And then… and then…”

  “Yes?” Owen purred, finally indulging me and running his fingers over my clit. I sucked in a sharp breath, and he held me in place, using his body to pin me between him and the counter. He pressed down a bit harder and traced circles over my clit. “And then what, baby?”

  “Then I want you to fuck me.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded, and my breath shuddered out between my lips. “Yeah.”

  He pulled his hands out of my jeans and, with a flick of his wrist, popped the button open. Then, wasting no time, he yanked them down my hips, spun me around, and grabbed a handful of my ass.

  His growl was primal, and my panties were instantly soaked.

  “These seven years were good to you, Angel. Fuck.”

  He bent me over the coun
ter and pulled my panties down. I knew from the times I’d been with him in the past that it was best to stay where he put me—unless I was in the mood to be punished. It could be fun to be a little pain in his ass. I liked how his jaw used to get tight and how he’d look at me like he was going to fuck me within an inch of my life.

  But today, I would be good. Today, I would follow the rules.

  Owen ran his fingers up the inside of my thigh and then over my pussy. I was dripping wet, and the sound he made when he touched my wetness was pure desire. He swirled his fingers along my slit, and then he pushed them inside me.

  “Yes,” I breathed, leaning forward and pressing my cheek to the cool countertop.

  Owen gave me deep thrusts with his fingers. I wiggled my hips, unable to stay still, and he rewarded me with another thick digit.

  I gripped the edges of the counter and dared myself to keep it together. I couldn’t come right away. I had to make him work for it.

  That was his favorite part.

  “Please,” I whispered, my breathing heavy and sharp as he fucked me with his fingers.

  “Please what, Angel?”

  “Let me suck your cock.”

  He stood back, turned me around, and let me crouch down before him to slowly undo his jeans. I gazed up at him and held his stare as I pulled his cock free of his pants and then pushed them down around his thighs.

  I’d nearly forgotten how well endowed he was.

  Nearly.

  I started by running my tongue up the base of his shaft to the tip, where I swirled around his head and then slowly took him between my lips. He watched me the whole time, and I continued staring up at him as I drew him deep into my mouth until he was pressed against the back of my throat.

  And I went farther still.

  “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice thick and strained.

  I sucked him off until he was close to bursting. I could see the strain in his jaw and in his hard stare, and I didn’t stop until he pulled away.

  I licked my lips. “Come back here.”

  He shook his head and pulled me to my feet. Without a word, he pulled my crop top off over my head and tossed it on the floor. Then he took off my bra, and I pressed my tits together for him, putting on a show as he fumbled to get his jeans off the rest of the way. He stepped out of them, fished a condom out of his pocket, and slapped it on the counter before pulling his shirt off over his head.