by Joanna Wylde
“Is there anywhere we could go that’s private?”
“Sure,” I said, thinking quickly. “We got rooms upstairs, you know. Want to use one?”
“All right,” she said, her smile tight. I let her slide slowly down my body, teasing my cock. Not even that was enough to distract me from the shadow I’d seen in her eyes.
• • •
We caught some shit as I dragged her through the clubhouse. The brothers all knew why I was so hot to get her alone, and for a minute I thought Horse might try to cock-block me, because he’s an asshole like that. Apparently the look on my face was enough to warn him off.
On the third floor was a series of rooms anyone could use. Most of the time they were for overnight guests, but guys crashed out here sometimes if they were between places. Also good for when we wanted privacy with a woman, although half the time nobody bothered. Wasn’t like we had any secrets from each other at this point, and that went for sex as well as everything else.
By the time we reached the third floor, I could hardly hold myself together I was so horny for her. We were only halfway down the hall when I lost it, catching her and lifting her against the wall. Then our lips were tangled together and I was grinding my cock into her cunt up against the wall. She’d worn this pretty little yellow sundress that just begged to be shoved up and over her head.
Or maybe her back . . . Struck with inspiration, I lowered her, then spun her around until she faced the wall, hands out to brace. An instant later I had the dress up, baring her very cute, very tight little ass to discover a bright red thong, proving that God exists and he obviously wants me to be happy. I ripped open my jeans, whipping out my cock as I hooked the thong with one finger and jerked it to the side.
Then I was inside.
Mel was better than I remembered. I mean, I knew she’d be hot and wet and tight around me, but this was a whole new level of amazing. Slamming deep, I heard her gasp as she pushed her butt back toward me, back arching. The whole time I was inside, I’d pictured us making slow love once I got out. I’d planned to explore every inch of her body, to worship her and show her just how much I cared about her.
That’s not what this was.
My hands were tight around her waist as my hips jackhammered home, carrying us fast and hard toward the explosion boiling deep in my balls. I hoped to hell she was as into this as I was, because I didn’t think I could slow down and I sure as shit wasn’t going to last long. Mel was gasping with every stroke, though, pushing back at me and squeezing down hard. Either she was just as close as me or she was one hell of an actress.
“This is probably gonna be kind of fast,” I managed to gasp, slamming in deep. She clenched tight, and I froze, desperately trying to hold back.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see it. I’d be damned if I’d come before she did. Sliding my hand down and around her stomach, I found her clit, catching it between my fingers. Her entire body seized, squeezing my dick so hard it almost hurt.
Almost.
“Close, baby?” I whispered. Mel nodded her head frantically, wiggling her hips around my cock like a butterfly stuck on a pin. Christ, that felt good. Powerful. Fuckin’ loved this control I had over her, my very own woman to keep forever.
My hips started thrusting again, and I tried to keep it slow. I seriously tried, but no way I could control myself under the circumstances, not when she made those little noises. My fingers moved faster, playing her until she started gasping. Suddenly every muscle in her body went tight and then Mel moaned long and loud.
Finally.
She sagged as I clutched her hips, letting myself go, pounding as hard as I could, feeling it build deep inside until I couldn’t hold back the explosion a minute longer. At the last instant I pulled out, spraying her ass and back with my come. Thought my head might explode, felt so good. Slowly I came back to myself, staring down at the length of her back.
My girl, covered in me.
I reached down, tracing a finger through it to paint a pattern on her back.
Property of Levi Brooks.
Mine. All mine.
MELANIE
That. Was. Amazing.
Pushing myself up, I felt Painter’s arm wrap around my waist, pulling me into his body. Then he was kissing the top of my head, running his hands up my stomach to cup my breasts.
“Missed you,” he whispered into my ear.
“Missed you, too,” I managed to reply. It was hard to think, like he’d somehow shorted out my brain with pleasure. I opened my eyes, looking down the hallway, wondering if we’d had an audience.
Nope, just us.
Good. This was going to be hard enough as it was.
“We have to talk,” I gasped as his teeth caught my ear.
“Talk later,” he whispered. “I want to eat you out.”
My whole body shuddered, but I managed to tug away from him. Turning, I looked up at him.
“We have to talk,” I said again, firmly. His eyes flickered, a wary look stealing over his face.
“Okay.”
• • •
The room was small—just a full-size bed and an old desk. I walked over and pulled out the chair, because I needed to be facing him when I did this.
Needed to see the look on his face.
Painter took a seat on the bed, facing me, leaning forward over his long legs, elbows on knees.
“What is it?”
I swallowed. I’d rehearsed this in my head all night. Then I’d practiced with Loni and Jessica, who’d taken turns giving me hugs and promising me that no matter what, I wouldn’t be alone. I knew they’d be there for me, but would Painter?
Taking a deep breath, I put it out there.
“I’m pregnant.”
His face didn’t change for an instant. Then his eyes narrowed, looking down at my stomach like he expected to see something.
“Are you sure?” he asked slowly.
“Yes,” I said shortly. “I took four tests, I’m missing my period, and I’ve been throwing up almost every day.”
Painter’s eyes narrowed.
“Is it mine?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a fair question—is it mine?”
“Yes, it’s yours,” I said, feeling my heart sink. I knew he didn’t want kids, so I hadn’t exactly expected him to be all happy about this. Still, it never occurred to me that he’d react like this.
“You sure?”
This wasn’t going well. Shit. Shit. “Seeing as you’re the only guy I’ve been with in the last year, yeah, I’m sure. And fuck you very much for thinking I’d cheat.”
He sighed, then reached up, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“This is why you were talking about kids yesterday. How long have you been hiding it from me?”
“I wasn’t hiding anything,” I snapped. “I only confirmed it yesterday morning. I planned to talk to you when I came to visit, but you were really negative. I figured I should wait until we had the time to talk things through.”
“Have you decided what you want to do?”
“Do I want an abortion, you mean?”
He looked straight at me, his face unreadable. “It’s one of the options.”
“No, I’m keeping it,” I told him shortly. “By myself if I have to. I’ve only known about this baby for a day, but I already love it. Him. Her. Whatever it is, I’ll be the best mother I can. I won’t be like my own mom—I’m going to stick around and do this right.”
“And what do you expect from me?” he asked, still expressionless. I closed my eyes, feeling my heart twist.
He’d warned me.
He’d told me that he hurt girls, that us being together was a bad idea.
They all had.
“Nothing, I guess,” I said, slowly rising to my feet. Walking toward the door, I turned back to look at him. All big and rangy. Sexy. Beautiful.
Toxic.
“I
guess I don’t expect anything. Go play biker with your brothers, Painter. Go do your club business because I guess that’s way more important than the child you helped create. Fuck you.”
With that I walked out the door.
He didn’t follow me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PAINTER
Pregnant.
Melanie was pregnant.
I sat on the bed, head down between my legs, wondering how the fuck this had happened. Okay, I knew exactly how it happened . . . I wasn’t a moron. I’d realized how stupid it was to screw her without a condom, but I’d always pulled out before coming and she was just so damned sexy.
I needed to go after her, to tell her that it was going to be okay and I’d take care of her and we’d live happily ever after—but I didn’t even know what happily ever after looked like. All I knew was that I’d be a shit dad and she was way too fucking young for this.
She deserved an easier life.
Standing slowly, I started downstairs, trying to figure out my next move. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. Melanie was knocked up. With a kid. My kid.
A kid I’d made clear I didn’t want.
Why the fuck had I said that? I’d wanted to take back my words about ten seconds after they left my mouth but the damage was done. The look on her face had been worse than a punch to the gut.
There was something wrong with me. Deeply wrong. I needed to man up, pull my shit together, and figure it out.
Right.
I could do this.
Leaving the room, I headed for the stairs. Not sure what I expected to find when I reached the bar, maybe London coming at me with a knife or something. They’d planned a big party for me, and London was in charge of all the food—suppose she could just poison me.
Instead I met Banks halfway up the stairs, his face grim.
“Church. Now,” he said. “We’ve got a situation.”
His tone cut through the haze in my head. Church. Okay, I could deal with that. I’d fucked up with Mel, but I could fix it. I just needed a little time to make a plan.
Some time and some space.
Yeah. That’d work.
A little time and space, and then I’d go find her.
• • •
“Gage called,” Pic said, standing at the head of the table. There was a tension in the air, a sense of violence looming that infected all of us. Felt good, because a crisis meant I had an excuse not to think about Melanie being knocked up. Nothing like a good fight to clear your head—wisdom that’d served me well over the years.
At least until I got arrested.
“He’s headed down to Ellensburg this afternoon with the Nighthawks,” he said. “Marsh is apparently on a rampage—he’s convinced that Hands betrayed him to the feds. Someone gave Marsh a tip that Hands would be at some classic car rally tonight, and he’s determined to find him and take him out.”
I frowned.
“Where the hell is that coming from? Makes no sense at all.”
“Fuck if I know,” Pic said, his face tense. “But I guess Marsh has been using more and more. Gage says he’s paranoid as fuck. Just walked into the clubhouse and ordered everyone onto their bikes, Gage included. He managed to call when they made a stop, but only had about a minute to talk—said they’re asking about you, Painter. Marsh wants reinforcements, wanted to know if you could come.”
“The fuck?” I asked, confused. “I’ve only met him once. Why the hell would he want me?”
“Why the hell would he drag along Gage?” Pic asked in return. “Not like he’s got strong ties, either. Obviously the guy’s lost it. We’ve got a big problem, though, because if he makes too much trouble at the car show, the cops will get him and then our entire network’s in trouble. We’re looking at some dangerous shit here—Gage needs backup.”
“We can head over in a pack,” Horse said. “Like we’re going to see the show, just happen to run into him. He may be fucking us over, but he doesn’t know we’re onto him. Just a friendly visit between two clubs.”
“Probably the best idea,” Pic said.
“That covers the show,” I said. “But what about protecting Gage afterward? If Marsh has gone paranoid, what’s to say he won’t decide he’s a risk and put a bullet in the back of his head?”
Nobody at the table spoke.
“Let’s pull him out,” Ruger said. “Give him cover down at the show, then have him ride for home.”
“Marsh could send someone after him,” Duck pointed out. “We extract, we need to give him an escort. Either that or blow his cover, which risks a confrontation.”
“Marsh knows me,” I said, thinking fast. “He asked about me. I can go in, stick with Gage, and it won’t set off any alarms. Then whatever happens, Gage won’t be alone.”
They all fell silent.
“The Evans bitch is determined to send your ass back to prison,” Bam Bam said slowly. “It’s a big risk, Painter. It was one thing, sending you out when we had Torres in our pockets, but this . . . The rally will be crawling with cops, events like that always are. They only cut you loose today—maybe you should sit this one out.”
Mel’s face flashed in front of my eyes. I needed to go find her, figure the situation out . . . but what the hell was I going to say? I had too much energy trapped inside, too much frustration and fear and a sick feeling, all mixed up with the sinking certainty that I was going to fuck this parenting shit up in a bad way.
You’ll be a terrible father and you know it.
“We all know I’m the best one to go,” I said, pushing her out of my mind. I couldn’t think about all that right now—she’d be fine. We’d figure it out later. “He shouldn’t have to do this alone and I’m the only one who can get in there without blowing our plan to hell. We have to protect the pipeline.”
My brothers shared looks across the table.
“This have anything to do with whatever the fuck’s been going on with Melanie?” Picnic asked bluntly. “Saw her tearing out of here, crying her eyes out. Loni chased after her. You got a death wish or something?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, yes. Me and Mel have an . . . issue. But trust me, it’s not going anywhere. I need some space to clear my head and no fuckin’ way we can leave Gage hanging high and dry. It’s a risk, but we all take risks every day. Isn’t that what the 1% patch means?”
Picnic sighed.
“Okay, guess it’s your call,” he said. “Anyone else?”
Nobody else said anything, and for once nobody gave me any shit. We were all too busy imagining what might lie ahead of us and whether Gage would make it to Ellensburg safe.
It was a legitimate concern.
If Marsh wanted to execute him, he’d probably lure him out with a story just like this. Made sense, too—it’s what we’d do in his place. And I’d call Melanie just as soon as I got back. Maybe I didn’t want kids, but life was twisty like that. We’d figure it out.
I loved her.
That would be enough. It had to be.
“Okay, I want to roll out in the next twenty minutes,” Pic said. “Party’s canceled, obviously, but I want all the girls safe at the Armory. Duck, you’ll hold things together here. We’ll leave you the prospects and”—he shot a look around the room—“Banks. You stay here, make sure they’re safe. Probably paranoid, but if they wanted to lure us out for an attack, this would be a great way to do it.”
“Mind if I call Puck, ask him to stick around?” I asked. “He was heading over for the party already. I’d like him to keep an eye on Mel.”
“Good plan,” Pic said. “Not just him—I’ll talk to Boonie, too. I know some of them were hoping to make it tonight anyway. I’d be more comfortable knowing London’s safe. I’ll call her, tell her to get her ass back out here, along with Jess and Mel. Now, anything else?”
Nobody spoke.
“Okay, then. Pull your shit together, brothers. Let’s not fuck this up.”
MELANIE
I reached for a tissue, wishing I was even slightly surprised by how bloodthirsty she was.
“You can’t kill Painter,” I said, blowing my nose loudly. “Even if he deserves it. He’s this kid’s daddy. I’m not going to hate him, because that’s not what’s important here. The baby is important. I need to figure out a plan, make sure that I have every last thing figured out because if I don’t—”
“Stop,” Loni said, reaching across the table to catch my hand. She gave it a tight squeeze. “Mellie, look at me.”
I met her eyes, wishing my real mom were here. London tried her best, but deep down inside I just wanted to crawl into my mother’s arms until she made everything better. Why’d she have to take off like that? Why’d she leave me?
My hand stole down to my stomach, rubbing softly. I’d never do that to my baby. Never. I’d die before I abandoned her.
I love you already, baby. Mommy’s here.
“You’re going to be okay,” London said, her voice firm and strong. From the table her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it, 100 percent focused on me. “Whatever happens with Painter, me and Jessica are your family. We’ll be here for you. I promise. Do you understand?”
I nodded, feeling a little stronger.
“I’m great with kids,” Jess broke in. “Probably because I think like them . . . Mixed blessing. But Loni’s right—you aren’t alone in this. I hope he pulls his head out of his ass and does the right thing, but if he doesn’t you’re better off without him.”
“And what’s the right thing?” I asked. “Like he’s supposed to marry me or something? I’m not ready to be married.”
Wasn’t ready to be a mother, either.
“The right thing is pulling his shit together and fathering his child,” Loni said bluntly. “I know you’re worried about raising a child in the club, but Reese did it, and he did it well. Bam Bam and Dancer are great parents. It’s possible, but only if Painter makes that choice—that’s on him, and nobody else. I’d love it if you two managed to work things out romantically, but even that isn’t the issue here. Taking care of your baby is the issue and you don’t need him to do that.”