by Naomi West
When they’d finished eating he stood to clear the plates and kneeled down to kiss her hand. “Thank you for forgiving me, and still wanting to be here with me.”
“And thank you for forgiving me. I feel terrible about all the things I’ve done and-”
He put his finger to her lips. “You solved Hugh’s case and sent his killer away. You took a huge drug dealer off the streets. You got Damian back safe and put away the people who took him. You’ve helped me so much. I can let it go that you didn’t tell me everything. I didn’t tell you everything either.”
“No, I guess not. But I knew what I was getting into with you.”
“I know.” He pulled his mouth into a crooked smile. “And I’m grateful that you decided to give me a chance anyway.”
He pressed his lips to hers and this time, there was no pulling away. She wanted him so badly, she wasn’t going to let him stop it. She grabbed his ass and pulled him closer. He was already hard in his jeans and she pressed her hips against him.
“If you really want me to be by your side,” she breathed into his ear, “I suggest you take me right now into your bedroom and give me a reason to stay.”
He moaned in her ear and picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her to the bedroom but instead of laying her down on the bed he pressed her back to the wall and kept kissing her.
She tugged at his hair and pulled off his shirt. She rubbed her hand along his bare chest and back, feeling every bulge of his muscles as he held her and kissed her gently along her neck. His hands roamed under her shirt and under her bra to play with her nipples. She squeezed tighter around his waist, wanting to feel his hard dick pressing into her.
He picked her up again and carried her to the bed. As he laid her down, he pulled off her sweatpants and panties. He unzipped his jeans and pushed them to the floor as he climbed into place over her. He turned her on her side so he could cuddle up behind her and cupped her breasts and circled his hand around her clit. She was wet with longing already and he rubbed his hard cock between her legs, teasing her as her wetness built up.
He lifted her leg and put it over his and as he positioned himself at her opening and slipped deep inside her she moaned. At the sensation of him filling her, she cried out and almost came right then. He wrapped his arms around her and held her as he moved in and out of her. They started slow and sweet, learning each other by the other’s heartbeat pounding through heat flushed skin. She felt tears running down her cheeks. She never thought she’d feel this again or be this close to him. She never wanted this to end.
He started to pick up speed and thrusted harder. As much as she wanted this to continue, she couldn’t fight the orgasm much longer. He put her leg down and turned her so that he was on top of her with her leg pinned back so he could penetrate her as deep as possible. He thrust harder and faster and as he cried out and came she felt the pleasure break over her. She dug her fingers into his back and came.
When they had finished, he held her close again, cradled in his arms like he had before. It was the best feeling in the world. She still breathed heavy and her heart was racing. She drifted off in his arms, feeling more content than she had in days.
In the morning, she heard Damian crying. Hawk was still curled around her, sleeping soundly. She peeled his arm back carefully and snuck out of bed. She tip-toed into Damian’s room and opened the door slowly. When he saw her, he squealed and clapped.
She picked him up and nuzzled him to her. He looked up at her, grinning, and squealed loudly at her. “Lex!”
She gasped. He had been making noises for months, but he’d never spoken anything so clearly. What else was he saying these days?
“That’s how I knew he missed you.” She jumped and turned to see Hawk in the doorway, watching them with a deep smile on his face.
“Your name was his first word. He would crawl over toward your house and reach out his little hand.”
“His first word?”
Hawk nodded. “It’s not just me who wants you. We both do.”
“Then I guess I have no choice but to be here forever.”
Hawk came to her and took them both into his arms. “I love you both,” he said and kissed them both. “My little family.”
THE END
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[BONUS #1] Outlaw’s Baby: Devil’s Edge MC
By Naomi West
I want to tie her to the bed and make her beg for my forgiveness.
Ivy Simmons might look like an angel, but she’s just another desperate wreck.
I don’t need more people looking to me for help – caring for my son is enough of a handful.
Then she gets both herself and my boy kidnapped.
Now, I have to hunt down the bastards who took them… and then I’m take her body as payment for my troubles.
This motel is a hellhole, but it’s home for now, ever since my MC’s rivals decided to burn down my house.
My son and I made it out alive, but we’re stuck here until further notice.
It’s not all bad, though.
The girl next door is hot as hell, with an air of vulnerability that only makes my arousal stronger.
Better yet, she wants my help, and I want hers.
She needs cash; I need a babysitter for Josh while I plan next steps with my MC.
It’s a win-win…
Until she’s dumb enough to let my enemies sniff them out and pounce.
Now, I’m hauling ass down the highway, trying to get back my son.
I can only think of one thing:
Once he’s back in my arms, Ivy is going to pay.
She’s going to pay with her mouth.
With her hands.
With those pretty little legs.
She’s going to pay, over and over again, until I’m satisfied.
Chapter One
Ivy
“For the last time, Ms. Simmons,” a steady, slightly impatient voice said from the other side of the phone line. “As much as I would like to help you, there is nothing we can do. Legally, anyway.”
At least the man on the other side of the phone had the decency to sound sorry. His voice reminded me of a generic cartoon villain; I could just image him twisting his evil, Snidely Whiplash mustache and thinking about all of the illegal ways I could get my life back. Ways that I couldn’t stomach. “Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Fletcher. I won’t bother you again.”
Settling the payphone back in its cradle, I glanced up at the faded billboard on Fifth Avenue and Bogardy Street. “Sigmund F. Fletcher, Attorney at Law. If I can’t help you, no one can!”
True enough. He was the last person in the world to call. And that was my last quarter. Looks like the only person that will be looking out for me will be me. Again. As sad as I was about this whole situation with Janice, I couldn’t stomach the thought of hiring some goon to take out her kneecaps. If only I had been smarter. If only I had asked someone’s advice who was smarter than me. If only, if only, if only.
So that was that. My business that I had worked for years to build, every penny I’d saved since I was a kid, and my source of income, gone. Just gone, like that. A feeling like a big, gaping hole spread through my chest. There was nothing left to do.
Sighing, I pulled my gray hoodie over my hair and stepped out of the phone booth into the rain. The city here was dingy and brown, filled with the mud that flowed down from the nicer parts of town. Funny to imagine that just a few months ago, I was looking for a new apartment up that way. I wanted something overlooking the city. From high enough up, even this dirt stain of a broken, pockmarked road looked kind of pretty. From up there, the city looked like an organized grid of picture-perfect little shops. It hid all of the glaring imperfections and shivering bodies sleeping on the street.
At l
east I’m not homeless yet. I shivered at the thought, staring up into the drizzle to try and glimpse the sky. But it was covered with a thick blanket of cold, gray clouds.
“Clouds are God’s way of telling us he’s too tired for more prayers.” I could remember my father saying it, as he looked up into the rain. “He uses the clouds to muffle some of the noise from down here. Sometimes God needs a break, too, you know.”
I sighed, my breath puffing in the cold air. Big problem with that, old man. God is dead if he ever was around. And even if he was around, he wouldn’t have time for people like me. I was almost instantly soaked, so I didn’t bother rushing back to the hole I called home. It wouldn’t matter how fast I ran, I would be soaked without an umbrella. Even though the payphone was across the street, I was dripping onto the mangy, outdoor carpet by the time I made my way up the three levels of leaky, creaking stairs to my motel room. I counted the uneven steps as I ascended to my floor, hoping to drown out the sound of my own thoughts.
Step nineteen, step twenty. Start over. I was going to have to start all over. From nothing, like I did when I was thirteen. Step twenty seven. Twenty eight. I had not a dime to my name, nothing saved but a couple of sets of clothes and some pots and pans.
Crying, screaming, or throwing a tantrum wouldn’t save me from my fate, so I sulked instead, feeling the bile of disappointment and overwhelming shame pour over me. How could I have been so stupid?
Pushing those thoughts aside, I pushed passed the dripping, spoiled bags of trash in the hallway to get to my room on the end of the row. It was thankfully quiet on the end unit, mostly. No one dared come down to my end of the hallway. It was my neighbor; he was the scariest thing I’d ever seen before. I was really, really hoping that I wouldn’t run into him. I wasn’t sure my nerves could take it after the day I had.
As I rounded the corner on the rickety balcony that connected my apartment to the street, I groaned out loud. Josh, the scary neighbor’s little nine-year-old brat, was sitting outside of the rented room, his torn and dirty little shoes banging together. He looked up as I walked towards him, then he got to his feet.
“Hey, next-door neighbor lady. Can I hang out with you?” he asked, his chocolate eyes too big and pleading in his adorable little face.
I took a deep breath to calm my desire to lash out at him. Screaming at a little kid might help me to feel like I’d gotten some power back in my worthless life, but I would feel like crap about it later. So instead, I smiled with exaggerated sadness at him. “Sorry, Kiddo. I can’t. I have to be at work in a few minutes. What’s your name again?”
“Josh,” the kid answered, his eyes locked with mine. Although he was wiggling around again, his feet tapping annoyingly on the disgusting carpet, he was looking at me with a hint of squint to his little brown eyes. He was an adorable kid under all of the abuse and dirt. I had a feeling he fell somewhere on the spectrum or had ADHD or something the way he danced around. It made him crazy, whatever it was, but he seemed like a regular, kid. Well, as regular as a neglected kid with a behavioral disease could be, I supposed.
And I knew a lot about regular neglected kids with behavioral problems. Going through the foster system did that to you.
I smiled down at him, trying to keep my face calm. He didn’t need to know about my inner drama. “Alright then, Josh. Shouldn’t you be in school?”
The kid wrinkled his adorable little nose at me. “Fuck school; everyone sucks there.”
Sighing, I rubbed my temples with my fingers. “Alright, Josh. I probably shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m going to help you get into your dad’s house, okay? Is he not home?”
Josh shook his head, making his slightly uneven bowl cut fly around his face like a wet dog trying to shake off the water.
I sighed. I was going to get in so much trouble for this… “Okay, well, I’m going to go get dressed for work, then I’ll be right back out with you.”
The kid nodded, then sat back down on the nasty carpet, banging his feet together again as I unlocked the door to my room and stepped in.
It wasn’t much; it fact, it was less than much. It was less than I’d ever had, even when I was being fostered by the worst of my so-called “parents.” It was a pile of rags on top of nasty carpet. Dead bugs infested the corners no matter how hard I worked to keep the place clean. One of the window panes was broken, replaced with a piece of wood. I’d had to take a Sharpie to the wood when I’d first moved in to cover the doodles of genitalia scribbled there by the last tenant, so it was now a rich, solid black.
I quickly changed into my uniform, put on some makeup, and put my wet hair up into some semblance of a bun. Then I got out the waterproof “shawl” I’d made out of a plastic garbage bag to keep my hair and makeup in place when it was raining and I had to walk to work. Which was often.
Once I was ready, I took a deep breath, then headed out into the hallway again. Josh scrambled to his feet, a big grin on his face. He looked pleasantly surprised. “That didn’t take as long as I thought it would. I thought girls were supposed to take forever.”
I grinned at him, my stupid soft spot for kids in vulnerable situations lighting up in my chest. “I hurried the schedule along for you, Josh.” The kid grinned bigger in response, so I held out my hand, trying not to wince as his dirty, sticky fingers took a hold of mine. “Now, let’s ask the office to make you an extra key so you don’t have to sit outside your dad’s place anymore, okay?”
“Thanks for being nice to me, lady,” Josh said finally, his voice small and hopeless sounding. My heart cracked a little down the middle at that little voice. At how broken he sounded. “No one’s ever nice to me because my dad is scary.”
Really tugging on the heartstrings, aren’t you, kid? I kind of wondered if he was playing me, but I couldn’t see what angle he was working. Sighing, I dragged the little kid down the three, rickety flights of stairs, around the piles of trash and someone who was passed out in front of one of the hallways. The rain spit over the edge of the balcony that only half-covered the outdoor stairs, staining the dirty carpets black.
“Lady?” Josh asked. We’d managed to traverse most of the disreputable joint in silence.
“Yes, Josh?” I asked quietly, my thoughts still tangled up in the rain. If it got any harder, I’d have to take the bus. And that was fifty cents I wasn’t sure I could part with.
“What’s your name?” Josh asked.
I smiled down at him and he smiled tentatively back, displaying a gap-toothed grin in his cute little, freckled face. It was a shame his father wasn’t so adorable. A shiver ran down my back at the thought of Josh’s dad. He was not the sort to mess with. It explained why the office had given me a discount on the room next to his. Apparently, tenants there didn’t last long. It’s no wonder, as shady and dangerous as my neighbor is. But there’s nowhere else for me to go.
I snapped back to our current conversation, putting back the smile that had slid off of my face as my thoughts turned bleak. “My name is Ivy Simmons.”
“That’s a pretty name,” the kid answered after a moment’s consideration. “Prettier than Josh.”
“You have a fine name, kiddo.” We reached the office and I knocked twice, hoping Mr. Marcus would be in his office instead of out searching for a hooker or an eight-ball out in the dingy city streets.
Lucky for both of us, Mr. Marcus was in. He was a fat, round thing with a little hair where it ought to be and a lot of hair where it shouldn’t be. But, heedless of his girth or his profusion of body hair, Mr. Marcus wore short shorts, flip flops with striped socks, and a heavily sweat-stained wife beater. Even in this cold weather, his slimy, unwashed attire didn’t change. I wondered if he’d ever owned any real clothing in his life.
We got a second copy of the key from Mr. Marcus for the three crumpled dollars that Josh had in his pocket. His eyes were wide at his new acquisition; he fingered the key lovingly between his two grubby hands, the grimy copper key only adding to the dirt on his sk
in. “Thank you for the help, Ivy,” the boy whispered.
I pulled a bag of chips I’d swiped off of the counter at my apartment out of my purse and handed it to him. “Here. It’s not much, but you should eat something.”
Josh’s chocolate brown eyes got huge at the offer, his smile spreading even wider. Grabbing the chips violently from my hands, he tore up the stairs at a reckless speed, heedless of anything around him. “Lock the door behind you, Josh. And you’re welcome!” I called after him. My eyes followed him up the steps, key in one hand, chips in the other, until he disappeared around the corner.
Wondering how much trouble I would be in with his father later, I spun on my heel and headed to work, my head bowed low to keep the rain out of my face.
Chapter Two
Creed
“Goddamn it, that hurts, Creed,” Bax complained, rubbing his eye. It was already turning black around the edges; it’ll be quite the shiner by the morning. I chuckled; he was going to be trying to use his injury to get pity from the girls by the next day. Most likely, that black eye will rough him up some pity pussy from the gang’s ladies.