Steel My Heart (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Sons of Steel Motorcycle Club Book 1)

by Lux, Vivian

  "Thank you," he murmured thickly.

  "I'm sorry!" I whispered.

  He rolled over and faced the ceiling, pointing and flexing his feet. "Don't be," he murmured. "That feels amazing."

  I tugged at the toe of his sock. "Want this off too?"

  He gave an appreciative moan and I rolled the sock down, freeing his ankle and then his foot. "Those are probably pretty disgusting," he observed.

  I extended it out in front of me, pinched between thumb and forefinger. "When did you last wash these?"

  "You gonna give me shit about my dirty socks now? " he teased.

  "Only a little. I'm sure I don't smell that great right now either."

  He lifted his head. I could see his cocked eyebrow even in the dark. "You smell amazing."

  I felt suddenly shy. Backing up, I connected with the miraculously unbroken piano bench and sat down clumsily.

  He waited a beat. "What are you doing all the way over there?"

  "Making sure you can't smell me," I said halfheartedly. It didn't feel right to be teasing him. "J.," I whispered.

  He rolled himself to face me, his long arm trailing to the floor. "I'm here."

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Aren't you going to ask me why I left?"

  He shook his head slightly. "No."

  "Why not!" I demanded. My guilt at seeing him lying there, broken, made me louder than I should have been in the quiet house.

  "Because I know why you did it."

  I was confused. "You do?"

  "Yeah," he propped himself up on his elbow and winced slightly. "I'm a fucking asshole."

  Guilt flooded my bloodstream. "Oh J. Oh no you're not. I'm an idiot. I'm a fucking stupid idiot for leaving. I was being a petulant child."

  "Haven't I told you," his voice was low and warning, "that I don't want you talking about yourself like that?"

  I was momentarily abashed. I cast about for what I could say next. I felt I owed him an explanation. But he didn't seem to expect one.

  Maybe I needed to give one for myself.

  "Have you ever felt so changed by something that you can't believe the whole world hasn't changed too?"

  "Yeah," he replied, lifting his dark T-shirt to reveal his battered, taped torso. He pointed a finger at one of the tattoos that dotted the rippled landscape of his chest. "That's why I get these. Change the outside to match the change on the inside."

  My heart leapt at his understanding. "Well I couldn't believe that after all I went through, I still woke up in the morning dependent on someone else. A burden for someone else to care for."

  "I fucking told you," he leaned out and grabbed my hand in his. "To not talk about yourself like that."

  I let him pull me across the tired brown carpet. And when he kissed me gently in the dark, I yielded to him. "You're not a burden, Em. You're my girl. Let me take care of you."

  The house was too quiet to hide my stifled moan when his fingers delved under my shirt. "You're hurt," I protested weakly.

  "Not touching you hurts more," he murmured, his voice thick and choked with desire. He pulled me up from where I knelt before him. I carefully stretched out my body along the length of his, supporting my weight with my arms.

  "Is this okay?" I asked.

  "More than okay." He cupped his hands around the back of my head and pulled me down. I sighed into the kiss. It was slow, warm and melting, gentler than I thought he could be. I realized he was being as careful with me as I was being with him.

  "Kiss me harder, J." I heard myself insist.

  He opened his eyes and they gleamed at me in the dark. "Wasn't sure you'd want me to."

  "Why the hell wouldn't I want you to?"

  His green eyes snapped. "I'm sorry I was ignoring you, Em. Shit got too crazy."

  I choked out a laugh and brushed a kiss across his lips. "Everything about us has been crazy so far. You think you'll still like me when things aren't crazy?"

  "You're saying things might not be crazy some day?"

  I pressed my head to his chest and sighed. "I have to hope."

  "Me too. And besides..."

  "What?"

  "I don't like you Em. I fucking love you." His kiss was much more forceful this time, sealing the truth of his words with his tongue. "You're worth craziness."

  I wanted to protest again. I wanted to tell him I was stupid and needy, a filthy golddigger just like Robert said. I wanted to say all these things, to give voice to the darkness that still reigned in my soul.

  But J., tortured, complicated, furious J., wouldn't let me think these things. His lips on my skin and his hands on my body shut down the protests that I wasn't worth his love. With each kneading stroke of his fingers across my back, I came alive again. The flower of confidence bloomed in my chest and with a strangled cry of desire I sat up and ripped my shirt off of my body.

  He sat up and eagerly plunged his hands into my bra, freeing my breasts. His tongue sought and found my nipple, sending little shocks down my spine. I closed my eyes and allowed him to caress and mold me with his hands and lips. My own hands were moving of their own accord, memorizing every hill and valley of the muscles under his skin. I felt the bandages and a momentary twinge of guilt flared to life inside of me.

  He felt my hesitation. "Stop," he ordered. His deft fingers found the zipper of my jeans, moving skillfully in the dark. I lifted my hips.

  "Get these off," he rasped.

  My desire was stronger than my sense of propriety. I stood quickly in the center of my mother's living room and shimmied my dirty jeans to the floor. The cool air hit my skin and I was suddenly aware of the air on my exposed body. It felt like welcome rebellion.

  He sat up, propping himself painfully on his arm. His eyes raked over my body and I looked down to see what he saw. My pale body shone in the dark, lit with the cool moonlight that spilled in through the darkened windows.

  "Shit," he hissed. "You're beautiful." He slid his legs onto the floor and stood slowly before me. I pressed my hand onto his chest and felt his heart beating under my hand.

  "Shit," I echoed him. And then I wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed me as he carefully lowered us both to the floor. I pressed up against him, wanting to feel the whole of his body against mine. His fingers danced downward, and I began to feel the slow hum of desire. The ache started deep within me, fueled by the feel of him. I moved my own hands down from his neck and slid them down under his waistband.

  "Why are these still on?" I questioned, fumbling blindly with his belt buckle. My clumsy fingers finally managed to undo the buckle and I yanked impatiently at his zipper. "Now J. I need you now."

  Chapter Thirty Six

  J.

  He needed no more encouragement. Ignoring the stab of pain in his side, J. pushed himself up on his arms. Her eager hands grabbed for him, guiding him to slide up inside of her.

  The warm wetness enclosed him, so eager and welcoming that he almost lost it then. That would have been a disaster. He wanted to stay here forever, moving inside of her gently, watching her wide blue eyes stare up at him, her raspberry lips parted in ecstasy.

  "I love you." He meant what he said. A man's word was his bond and as he moved inside of her, feeling the mounting intensity rise inside of him, he knew that he was forever bound to what he said.

  "I love you too." She kissed him so fervently that he couldn't help but push inside of her harder. She squeezed her eyes shut and clung to him. He felt her soft thighs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, pushing him higher. He was going to explode if he kept this up.

  "Baby girl, I want to see you." He pulled away, shivering slightly in the sudden cold of the room. She watched him, panting, as he carefully stretched himself out on the floor. He winced a little, but hoped she didn't see his pain in the dark. He turned upright, facing the ceiling, and beckoned to her.

  She hesitated. "I'm not....I'll hurt you."

  "I guarantee you that you won't."

  "I'm too heavy."


  "Ain't you always telling me how big my muscles are? You think I can't hold you?"

  She opened her mouth to protest again, then shut it. He felt her small hand circle his bicep and he grinned in the dark. "Yeah, that," he murmured. "That's for you, honey."

  Her other hand moved down his torso. He grunted as her fist closed around his erect member. "Is this for me too?" she whispered. The little teasing lilt in her voice almost drove him out of his mind.

  "All for you."

  "What should I do with it?" Her hand was moving along his shaft.

  "Whatever the fuck you want," he groaned, thrusting his hips in time with her strokes.

  Her mouth on him caught him by surprise. When she flicked her tongue across, he lost control. Grabbing her by her arms he hauled her up across his body so her pale white body was above his own. He pushed up with his hips and found the hot wetness of her center and drove himself home. She cried out and reared backward, meeting his thrust halfway. With a long shuddery moan, he forced himself to slow down and let her take her pleasure. Her hips ground into his, rocking back and forth. Her generous breasts swayed tantalizingly out of reach of his yearning mouth.

  "Fuck," he gritted. Holding back was about to kill him.

  He pressed his thumb directly onto her buzzing nub. Her eyes, which had been squeezed shut in concentration, flew open wide. She gasped and pressed her hands into his chest, heedlessly grinding herself against him. When he felt her body tighten and shudder, he pressed harder, kneading the soft skin of her buttocks in his other hand. She threw her head back and arched her back. J. saw her bite her lip, stifling a long, low moan that increased in frequency until it built into a scream. Desperately she cast herself forward, pressing her face into his neck to stifle her wild cries.

  When he heard her take the last shuddery breath of her orgasm, he let himself go. Thrusting powerfully upward, he took his pleasure finally. His pain-wracked body spasmed and stiffened and he pulled her down roughly so that he could press himself ever further upward. She bathed his neck and face in kisses as he grunted then groaned deeply.

  He didn't want it to end. His pleasure was tainted with disappointment that it was over. He would have been content to stay inside of her forever, hidden away from the pain that reawakened the minute she pulled herself free. J. inhaled sharply, suppressing the moan again, this time for a different reason.

  "Are you okay?" Her hand was on his forehead. The tenderness in her touch was something he was still getting used to.

  He wanted to lie. He wanted to hide the truth of how much pain he was in. She must have sensed it. "Never mind, don't try to make me feel better."

  "Why should you feel bad?" He was genuinely curious.

  "Because you got hurt coming to rescue me."

  He closed his eyes. Exhaustion was creeping in and he looked forward to the oblivion of sleep. The only problem was that it would rob him of her presence for a short time. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and pulled her down to nestle into the crook of his shoulder.

  "I would do it again," he sighed into her hair. "And again and again and again."

  He knew she didn't quite believe him. As he drifted into sleep, he vowed to prove it to her over and over until she finally did.

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Emmy

  The windows in the living room faced east. Of course they did.

  My eyes flew open when the first shaft of light pierced my eyeballs. "Shit!" I hissed, scrambling out from under J.'s arm. "J. wake up, we need to put some clothes on."

  He rolled on to his back and grunted. "Why?"

  I rolled my eyes at him. "Because we're naked in my parents' living room."

  "Yeah," he looked me up and down. "I don't mind that."

  I grabbed his jeans and threw them at him. "Get dressed." He blinked lazily at me, a slow sarcastic smile that would have melted my resolve at any other time. "Please, J. I want to get the fuck out of here."

  I pulled on my clothes hastily, my mind going a million miles a minute. My parents could wake at any moment. We needed to be gone before they did. I pulled on my socks and tiptoed carefully up the stairs, my memory of the floorboards that squeaked helping me move silently across the hall to Andy's room.

  I knocked softly and pushed at the door with my toe. My brother was flopped face up on the bed, so there was no shying away from the injuries on his face. His split lip was still fat and puffy, dragging his mouth down into a sordid leer. His swollen eye was covered in a radiating bruise, yellowed at the edges and darkening to a vicious purple over his nose.

  Though every instinct I had shrieked at me to stay there and watch over him, I knew that I couldn't. He was depending on me to get out and get on my feet. "Andy?" I whispered gently.

  His eyelids fluttered open. "Em," he croaked.

  "Andy, I'm leaving now."

  "Mmm." He rolled onto his side and looked at me and for a moment I saw the lost little boy who needed me to protect him from our father. "Okay," he said, but his voice wavered and caught in his throat.

  "Andy, thank you."

  "Don't thank me."

  "Yes, I'm going to thank you. And as soon as you're eighteen, if you want to you can come live with me, okay?"

  "Really?"

  "I promise."

  He rolled over and looked at the ceiling. "You have six months to get your shit together, Em," he croaked.

  I stifled a laugh that ended in a sob. "Plenty of time," I winked.

  There was no place on his face that I could kiss him without fear of causing him pain. So I lifted his battered knuckles to my face instead. I kissed the back of his hand, all scraped and raw, then pressed it to my face. "I love you."

  "Love you too, Em," he whispered. "Now get the fuck out of here."

  I grabbed the list of sublets that still sat in the tray of his printer and waved them encouragingly at him. Then I blew him a kiss and turned quickly to hide my tears. As I stepped out into the hall, I thought I heard my mother stirring and was hit with another wave of guilt. I couldn't face her today. Not after all that had happened. I would call today, I promised myself. Just as soon as I had a chance.

  I tapped my old door open. Case was lying face down in my bed. It looked like he had just fallen down and stayed like that. "Case?"

  He pushed himself up so quickly I stepped back in alarm. "You okay?"

  "Yes," I breathed and his shoulders relaxed. "But I want to go now."

  "Yup." He swung his legs over the side of my bed which bowed dangerously in the center.

  J. was waiting for us downstairs, sitting gingerly at the edge of the recliner. "Ready?" he asked.

  "Just one thing." I tiptoed quickly to the kitchen and found a scrap of looseleaf from Andy's school binder.

  I'm okay. I will call. I love you, - Emilia

  "I'm ready."

  Without Case there, I don't know how I would have gotten J. to the car. I was grateful for his immense strength. J. tried valiantly to move on his own, but his injuries combined with the stiffness of sleeping on the floor had rendered him barely able to stand upright, much less walk.

  "Goddamn, fuck!" J. spat as he leaned so heavily on my arm I stumbled.

  "For fuck's sake, stop trying to walk, you stubborn piece of shit," Case admonished.

  "What you think you could carry me?"

  "With one hand. You're an adorable little stringbean." Case smiled.

  I saw J. duck his head, his mouth working hard to suppress his smile. "I'm not descended directly from Vikings." He held out his arm and ran a finger along the smooth chocolate skin. "Clearly."

  "Yeah. Too much melanin, I'd say."

  "Least I don't get sunburned by the moon."

  Case was smiling widely, his face registering relief. Something unsaid had passed between them. The apologies he made last night seemed to have been accepted. I wondered if I would ever know, then decided I was too tired to worry about that too.

  We got J. into the passenger seat of th
e pickup with much swearing and shoving. I got behind the wheel of the unfamiliar vehicle and paused.

  "You okay?"

  I sat back in the seat, noticing the papers still clutched in my hand. J. noticed them too. "Whatcha got there?"

  "J.," I started to say. "I'm not going back to the clubhouse with you." I heard how harsh I sounded and hated it.

  "You're what?" He sounded incredulous.

  I waved the papers, clenching them like they were a lifeline. ""I can't keep doing this." I shifted away from his distracting nearness and tried to soldier on with what I had to say in spite of his crestfallen face. "Running from place to place, depending on other people to put me up. I need to stand on my own two feet."

  He leaned in to me across the bench seat. His eyes were alight with excitement. "I thought of that, Em," he said eagerly. "Randall said he'll take you. He owes me, you know how he owes me." His lips were suddenly at my neck, peppering kisses with every word. "You'll be safe there. He'll keep you safe."

  "That's not your responsibility," I squeaked. His lips on my skin made it hard to think.

  "Yeah it is," he growled. "I'm not living with this worry anymore, and I sure as shit am not living without you."

  "And I'm not living without you," I murmured. I placed a hand on his chest and pushed slightly. "But J., this is crazy." He must have been absolutely desperate to go to his family like that. The thought of him swallowing his anger to supplicate himself on my behalf brought tears to my eyes. "I can't do that."

  His mouth opened a little and I could tell he was going to protest.

  "No don't," I held up my hand. "I can't go live with your family. Thank you. But I can't."

  "You can." But the fire had gone out of his words. He was listening.

  I tried to explain to him, make him see. "If I don't learn to take care of myself, then what is all this for? I've bounced from father to fiancé to," I hesitated, "boyfriend," he smiled a private smile, "and all this time they've taken care of me. For better and usually for worse." I sighed and grabbed his hands, rough and calloused and strong. "I need to be on my own, in my own space. I need to know that I can do this." I waved the papers at his still uncomprehending face. "I'm looking for sublets. An apartment all my own for the summer! I'm going to live on my own!"