King's Harlots 1-3

by J. M. Walker

  “You can’t stand there and tell me that this wasn’t meant to be. You are the one who convinced me that there is such a thing as love and a happily ever after.” I couldn’t take her doubting my love for her.

  “Well, maybe it isn’t worth it.”

  My head snapped up. Before I could comprehend what I was doing, I was standing in front of her.

  Her eyes widened, taking on that shine I had come to know so well. “What are you going to do?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  If I was a gentleman, I would leave her alone. I would give her some space like she had asked. But I wasn’t. I was the man she loved with a monster inside of me she loved even more.

  ***

  (Jay)

  When Angel charged for me, I was expecting him to throw me over his shoulder and demand I stay. I ran. I always ran. Even when we first got together, I ran. I was terrified he would leave me like my mother and sister had. But when Violet came back, when she was saved from the hands of Hell, Angel was right there by my side. So why the fuck couldn’t we go back to that point in time?

  “What are you going to do, Angel?” I repeated, staring up at him. I noticed for the first time in weeks that he had bags under his eyes, a peppering of grey showed through the smattering of scruff on his strong jaw. Stress had aged him. Me. His job. Tyler. Me. I leaned my head against his chest, breathing in the scent I had begun to crave months before. “Angel—”

  Rough hands spun me, shoving me hard against the dresser. I let out an oomph at the unexpected movement.

  “Look at us,” Angel growled, his fingers twisting in my hair. He pulled my head back, his lower body pushing into mine. “Look.”

  My gaze followed his, landing on our reflection in the mirror. His eyes were dark, cold. Angry. His large body loomed over mine, grinding into me until all I felt was him. Everywhere. Every single inch. Every curve of his muscles. Every throbbing vein.

  “You see us?”

  His voice took on a darkness I had never heard from him before. And as much as it shouldn’t have, it turned me on.

  “Yes,” I whispered, my mouth going dry.

  “Look into my eyes,” he demanded, wrapping his other hand around my throat. “Tell me I don’t love you. Tell me you want this to end.”

  “I …”

  “Tell me.”

  “No!” I cried, pushing back against him.

  Sliding his hand down into the vee of my t-shirt, he pulled it lower. The red lace of my bra peaked out, taunting him.

  “Tell me you don’t love me.” With both hands, he ripped my shirt in half.

  A gasp left me, a flutter of heat warming my lower belly. “I love you.”

  “Tell me you don’t want to spend the rest of your life with me.” Angel’s hands reached my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of my ass. “Tell me you hate me.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Fucking tell me.” With a roughness I craved, he pulled my leather pants down to my ankles. Kicking my legs apart, he reached between us.

  My breathing sped up. Sex didn’t solve anything. I knew that. But I didn’t care. It would make us feel better. We both knew it. It was how we were wired. We fought. We loved. We fucked.

  “Tell me you hate me,” he snarled in my ear. A zipper sounded, sending a wave of desire racing through me. “Mmmm … my dirty princess wants me to fucking play.”

  “Yes,” I moaned.

  “Tell me you love me.” Angel hooked a finger in the string of my thong, shoving it to the side. “Tell me.”

  “I—” A cry left me when he thrust into me so hard, my feet rose from the floor. “Yes! I love you. I love you. God, Angel.”

  “Tell me,” he bellowed, gripping my ripped shirt and holding my lower body with his thick thighs. His powerful thrusts didn’t let up. He didn’t let me get used to this new dangerous side of him. He didn’t let me do anything, and I loved every single moment of it.

  I cried out. I screamed. I cursed. But I loved him even more. All of the words that were said and passed between us. All of the pain and heartache . He was my man. My fiancé. The love of my life. We had issues. We had problems. But we were real. Our love … was real.

  “Fuck, Jay.” His hand inched up to my throat, his other arm wrapping around my middle. “Tell me.”

  “I love you,” I whimpered, holding onto the dresser.

  “Tell me you don’t love him.”

  I knew that was coming.

  Something had changed in Angel when Tyler kissed me. A dark, possessive man took over. I had never seen it before in him but I understood. If I saw a woman kissing Angel, I would have reacted the same way.

  “I don’t love him,” I told Angel. “I don’t.”

  Angel pushed into me, his thrusts bordering on violent. A powerful force took over when I said those words. It was like a weight had been lifted. He knew I didn’t love Tyler anymore but with everything that had happened, he needed to be sure. He needed to hear me say it.

  “Fucking right you don’t.” Angel brushed his nose up the length of my neck, a small smirk spreading on his lips. “You’re mine, princess. Remember that the next time he kisses you.”

  NINE

  Angel

  I AM AN asshole.

  I had no intention of fucking Jay. And that’s what it was. Not making love. It wasn’t sweet and caring. It was rough and violent. My dick was raw because of it.

  With Jay sleeping peacefully beside me, I couldn’t help but question why. Why was she still with me? Why did she accept my possessive ways? Why did God give her to me when she deserved so much better?

  I kissed her shoulder, pulling her against my bare chest. The scent of sex and sweat wafted into my nose, forcing my heart to skip a beat. I didn’t deserve her but I would make sure I showed her how much I needed her. Fuck everyone. Fuck Tyler and Charles. Fuck them all.

  Jay and I deserved to be happy, and I would make damn sure that she remained happy with me.

  A half an hour later, she stirred. “What time is it?”

  “Time for us to get up,” I grumbled.

  “We should head back to your place.” She sat up, stretched, and yawned. She smiled at me. Finally. It had been so long since I’d seen the smiles she gave reach her eyes.

  I grabbed her hand, pulling her back into my arms and kissed her hard on the mouth. “I love you. I’m so fucking sorry. For everything. I know it’s only words, but I am sorry. I’ll show you with everything that I am how much I love you. How much I need you. And how much I want to marry you.”

  “We’ll get through this.” Her eyes shone. “I …” She swallowed hard. “I’m ready to talk. About everything. The shit with Tyler.” Her voice wavered. “Everything.”

  I sat up, pulling her between my legs and cupped her cheek. “I don’t need to know the details with Tyler. I know he fucked you up. I get it. But I do need to know why you’re scared.”

  “I’m not anymore.” She sighed, her body relaxing. “I’m not. He really hurt me. He made these promises for years that no man would want me. That I wasn’t good enough. He drilled it into my head that I guess I just started believing him. That’s not fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” I kissed her softly on the mouth. “I know I’m jealous and possessive. I don’t deserve you, but I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I appreciate you.”

  “It’s funny.” She crossed her legs under her. “I had to convince you in the beginning that there is such a thing as love and now, you’ve had to convince me that I can be happy.”

  “I’m not Tyler,” I repeated the words I had said for weeks, but something was different about this time. After the kiss she shared with him, the closure she needed, saying the words now meant something more.

  “I know …” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I know that now.”

  “Good.” I pulled her against me, wrapping my body around hers. “Good. That’s … good. Anything else you need, I
am here. Please know that.”

  “Just love me,” she whispered. “That’s all I need right now.”

  “I promise.”

  TEN

  Jay

  ANGEL HAD BEEN gone for a couple of hours before my body decided to wake. It had been a lazy morning, and I couldn’t focus on anything but sleep. Waves of nausea had taken over every half an hour or so but they never forced me into the bathroom. I didn’t know what was going on.

  A moment of clarity struck.

  Shit.

  There was no way. No possible way.

  I jumped from the bed when another wave hit me. Rushing to the bathroom, I fell to my knees almost missing the toilet. Spewing bile into the basin, the acidic burn made my eyes water.

  Fuck.

  “Boss?”

  “In here.” Under normal circumstances, I would have given Creena shit for being in my room unannounced but right then, I didn’t care.

  “What’s up?” she stopped at the door, frowning.

  “I need you to do me a favor, and you can’t tell anyone.”

  “Of course.” She nodded for added effect. “What do you need?”

  “Promise me,” I pleaded. “Please.”

  “I promise.”

  Knowing I could trust her, I gave her a list of items to buy at the drug store and to hurry back. She didn’t ask questions, didn’t even ask for money.

  My heart hurt with what the outcome of this situation could be. What if people found out and used that against us? Could people still see me as being president of a motorcycle club? To take me seriously? Too soon. These questions bouncing around in my mind were too much. I couldn’t deal. I needed Angel.

  ***

  (Angel)

  It had been a stressful afternoon of dealing with Asher and his demons. Looked like we all had our own shit to deal with.

  When the guys left, I headed to Jay’s room at the back of the club. I needed some comfort that only she could provide.

  “Jay?” I called out, stepping into the familiar space.

  A muffled sound came from the bathroom.

  “Princess?” I knocked lightly. “Are you in here?”

  When no response came, I pushed open the door, finding Jay sitting on the floor. Several small boxes littered the area around her.

  “Hey,” I said gently. “What’s going on?”

  Her shoulders shook, a soft cry leaving her mouth.

  Kneeling behind her, I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the side of her neck. “Talk to me.”

  She didn’t say anything. She only held up a stick.

  My eyes widened when I realized what she was holding. “What … um … Jay?”

  She laughed, which came out more like a sob. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “Sorry?” I turned her toward me, grabbing the stick from her hand. Two pink lines stared up at me. “Why are you sorry?” I still couldn’t believe what I was looking at.

  “Because …” Jay’s chin quivered. “I don’t know.”

  “Princess—” I kissed her softly on the mouth “—there is no reason to be sorry. It takes two and …” I looked down at the stick, noticing several more scattered beside her. All with pink lines, plus signs or words stating that she is pregnant. Pregnant. A baby. She was having my baby. “You’re having my baby.”

  “I … oh, God.” Her breath hitched. “I am. I’m pregnant. Angel, I’m pregnant.” Her lips curled up into a smile.

  “You’re pregnant.” My heart thumped, my stomach somersaulting.

  Fucking A.

  ***

  (Jay)

  I wasn’t sure why I thought it would be difficult to tell Angel that I was pregnant. After the countless bouts of nausea, it finally made sense as to why I hadn’t been feeling well. The only thing I had to worry about was telling Max. My heart panged. It was hard for her to deal with being pregnant herself when she didn’t have the support from the father. I liked Dale, but he needed to get his head out of his ass.

  “What about Max?” I muttered, hot tears flowing down my cheeks. This emotional shit was annoying, and I was over it already. If I had to deal with this for nine months, it was going to drive me and everyone else insane.

  Angel picked up the empty boxes, throwing them into the trashcan before helping me to my feet. He didn’t answer, only held my hand and led me to the bed.

  “Angel?”

  “I love you,” he said, kneeling between my legs. “You know, that right?”

  “Of course, and I love you too.”

  “And Max loves you.”

  My eyes welled, my chest aching as if someone was squeezing my heart. But I didn’t want to hurt Max. Her issues with Dale were hard to deal with. I wanted to be there for her, but I didn’t want my pregnancy to come off as a slap in the face.

  “I’m happy. I am so damn happy but I don’t want … I want Max to love our baby and be there for it but I don’t want any resentment.”

  “Jay …” Angel sighed, pulling me down onto his lap. “Max isn’t like that. You know that she will love that baby like it’s her own and when hers comes, our babies will grow up together. Be best friends and all that shit.”

  I laughed, wiping the tears from under my eyes. “I was so scared to tell you.”

  “Why?” he asked, taken aback.

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I know we have had our problems but I love you. I am so in love with you, and it makes me the happiest woman in the world to be carrying your baby.”

  “I never thought I could fall in love with you more.” Angel cupped my cheek, staring intently into my eyes. “But I am. I am falling in love with you more and more each day.”

  My throat burned. “I love you. My King.”

  “I am proud to be your boyfriend, your fiancé, the father to your baby. Our baby.” His eyes shone, glassing over with unshed tears.

  “Our baby.”

  “And our little prince or princess will have so much love surrounding it, it will make all of the evil we are dealing with worth it.”

  “Everything will be worth it.” I wrapped my arms around Angel, clinging onto him until all I felt was our love flowing around us.

  I was pregnant.

  I would never get used to the fact that I was carrying Angel Rodriguez’s baby.

  “I never thought I would say this—” his lips moved to the shell of my ear, his hot breath scorching the side of my face “—but you being pregnant with my baby makes me hard.”

  My eyes widened, a warmth settling deep in my belly.

  His gaze had moved to my lower abdomen before he turned me in his arms. “Place your hands on the edge of the bed,” his deep voice rumbled over me, sheltering me in a blanket of bliss. “I suggest holding on.”

  And I did.

  For the rest of my life, I would … hold on.

  ***THE END***

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  ABOUT

  J.M. Walker is an Amazon bestselling author who loves all things books, pigs and lip gloss. She is happily married to the man who inspires all of her Heroes and continues to make her weak in the knees every single day.

  “Above all, be the HEROINE of your own life...” ~ Nora Ephron

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  J.M. Walker, King's Harlots 1-3