by Cat Porter
With Grace.
With Grace.
Spin away. Spin away.
“Release—”
“One, two, three, four.”
My shoulders slumped, an opened water bottle was before me, and I took it and drank slowly as Grace’s fingers wiped the hair back from my face.
“Lie down. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere until Boner gets back, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered hoarsely, lying back down on the bed.
“And don’t worry. I changed the sheets when you were taking a shower.”
“You did?”
“I didn’t look too closely, but I wanted you to be comfortable. I have this thing about clean sheets. It comes with age. You’ll see.”
We laughed together, and that lightness felt good.
Grace shut off the light in the room, and I curled myself around a pillow and let out a breath.
There was still more to give to the diamonds.
A light tickle skipped up and down my neck, and I arched away from it. “Hmm.”
An arm wrapped around my middle, settling on my belly. “Jill.”
His voice.
I opened my eyes.
“You okay?” Boner asked.
I turned in his arms and nestled in his hold. “Are you okay?” I murmured against his throat, savoring the mild creamy soap scent of his damp skin.
“He ain’t coming near you again. He gets to come see Becca and his mom and Tania, and that’s it. You don’t ever have to be in the same room with him.” His hand stroked up and down my back. The hand that probably, moments ago, had been punching Catch, smacking him, throttling his neck, making him bleed.
For me.
I curled up in Boner’s arms, my one hand sliding in his wet long hair, so cool and lush against my fingertips. “Thank you.”
“You’re not scared, are you? Being here with me?” His voice was low, tentative.
“No. No, not at all.”
“Grace and Lock are spending the night here, too.”
“Good.”
A heavy sigh escaped his lips. He was worried. My hand smoothed up and down his tense back.
“He scared you, threw you on a bike, half-dressed. All this in front of his ma and Becca?”
“Yes.”
“Such a motherfucker.”
I planted a long kiss on his tense shoulder. “It’s over.”
“He fucking hurt you. You got nothing to say?”
“I thought I’d never see Becca again. I thought I’d lose this baby.”
He gently kissed the side of my face over my bruise. “Fucker,” he whispered.
“Or you. I thought I’d never see you again.” I melted against him, my lips brushing his chest.
He sucked in a tiny breath. “You okay with this? Us together?”
“Are you?”
“You said you didn’t want to be an old lady again. I get that.”
“And you said you didn’t want an old lady.”
“We can do this until the baby is born. Then, you’re free of me, of all this.”
Free of him?
A heaviness seeped through my middle. He had claimed me to protect the baby. Of course he had.
I didn’t want to be an old lady though. I didn’t want that role. I wanted…damn it, I didn’t know what I wanted. I only knew that, right now, it felt good, so good, to be in his arms, in his bed.
I got what I had told him I wanted, didn’t I?
“Right, exactly. For the baby,” I said. “I can pretend to be your old lady until then.”
Boner coming to my rescue had been grand and valiant, impulsive and smart. But still, I didn’t think Catch would let this go so easily. He liked to prove all his points, and he always had to have the last word. The Jacks might have gotten their licks in tonight and made the boundaries clear, but Catch wasn’t done. I was sure of it.
I tangled my legs in Boner’s. The T-shirt I wore suddenly felt thick and rough between us. I yanked it off me.
“Jillee.”
I threw the shirt on the floor. “I need to feel you.” I lay down on top of him. “Hold me,” I whispered.
Boner took in a slight breath. His hand slid over my ass, and a shiver zipped up my spine as he stroked my rear, his other hand diving into my hair. His cool skin against my heat left me breathless. I was hyperaware of every part of me touching every part of him—our feet, our legs, his huge erection hard under his boxer briefs, his heaving chest under mine.
I needed this blunt honesty to ground me right now.
His minty breath was hot against my skin, and I swept his sensational long, thick hair back from his face.
His brows tensed together in a dark knot for a moment and then released, as if he didn’t understand the mystery before him but realized that it didn’t matter. It was simply better to admire it.
I felt small within his unyielding firm embrace. He rubbed my scalp, and sighing, I relaxed under the power of his gifted fingertips. I glanced up at him. His tender touch and intense gaze had me under a spell.
“I had to make sure he understood,” he whispered, his heart beating steadily underneath me.
“I know. You don’t have to explain.”
He was concerned about my feelings. Holy shit.
“I had to,” he said.
My core swirled with heat at the dangerous low tone of his voice.
Was it fucked up of me to be turned on by it, by his harsh grip on my flesh, the violence he implied?
I brushed his jaw with my lips, and my fingers stroked over his upper chest. “Did you punch him?”
“Yeah.” His thumb slid inside my mouth for a heart-stopping moment and then dragged across my bottom lip. His eyes gleamed in the shadows. He was high. On blood, on making his move, leaving his mark. On me.
“Did you cut him?” I asked.
“Yes.”
His hand slid under my panty, cupping my ass firmly, and I let out a whimper.
My hand ran across his chest and down alongside his body. “Did you make him bleed?” I whispered.
“Fuck yes. And I broke a bone. Just one.”
I kissed his shoulder, licking over the hard contours of his upper arm. “Did you like it?”
He sucked in a quick breath. “I didn’t want to stop.”
I crushed my mouth to his, and my fingers brushed over the long scar along his middle, and he pushed my hand away.
“How did you get this?” I asked.
His head sank to the side. “War wound, long time ago.”
“Were you in the Army?”
“No.” His body tensed. “Another kind of war.”
This wild mark forever lashed on his body was proof of the violent life he led, and although it made me uneasy, it also sent fiery sparks shimmering through me. My leg slid higher in between his, and I followed the trail of crisp hair down his abs. My hand tucked under his waistband and wrapped around his stiff cock.
I stroked his rigid length, and my tongue created wet swirls over his smooth chest. A groan escaped his throat as my tongue flicked around a nipple and over a pec. In a flash of movement, I was underneath him, my back to the mattress, his lips sucking on a breast. His torso pressed against me, and I let out a gasp at the exquisite surge of sensation between my legs.
“I want to make you feel good,” he rasped, a hand stroking over my hips to my ass.
“Boner—”
His eyes glinted in the dark. “I want to make my old lady feel good.”
My whole being glowed at his words. His lips skidded down my middle, and I shuddered as he moved south, ripping off my panty.
My hands dug into his hair. “Boner—”
His eyes found mine. “Let me give this to you. I want to give this to you, baby. I need to,” he breathed, a hand on my breast.
Suddenly, both his hands were under my ass, lifting up my lower body, and his mouth sank over my pussy.
“Boner!”
His moans met mine i
n the air above us. His tongue swirled gently, then ferociously, and then gently again. He pushed my legs further apart and angled his mouth to discover more of me, take in more of me, tease me, consume me. My head rolled back on the pillow.
My old lady.
I gasped loudly, both my hands fisted tightly in his thick glorious hair. My hips shamelessly rocked against his face. “Don’t stop. God, don’t stop. Bone—oh, Bone!”
His silky hair brushed my thighs, and my lungs squeezed painfully as he sucked on me, his shoulders surging with the effort, his rhapsody of grunts and groans propelling me into a fantastic unknown.
I crashed and soared all at once, right there, in his mouth. I trembled under the intense force of the sweet glory he’d given me.
Boner lifted up over me, taking me in his arms. He turned us to our sides on the bed, his choppy breathing filling my ear. “You call that doctor of yours first thing tomorrow, and you confirm that you can have sex. All kinds of fucking sex. Hard, fast, slow, front, back—ask her about everything. So, we’re sure.”
“Upside down sex, too?” I kissed him and then laughed as I pressed into his chest, enjoying my taste on his lips.
“Not funny.”
“I’m going tomorrow morning. Grace called her, and we got in for a visit, first thing.”
“I’m taking you.”
His fingers slid in between my ass cheeks, pressing against my entrance, and I let out a small cry at the tremor of sensation.
“And don’t forget about your ass. You want me in your ass, baby?”
I laughed out loud, but he swallowed the laugh in a hungry kiss. “I’m not joking,” he said against my lips.
“I know you’re not joking.”
Boner pushed me onto my back, and his teeth nipped across my jaw, down my throat. He sucked on my breasts, going from one to the other, roughly stroking them, his insistent wet tongue flicking at my sensitive nipples, and I squirmed under his weight.
I hooked both my legs around his torso, locking him to me, his head bent over me. My hands smoothed down his dark hair to his back, a waterfall of heavy silk, and it was mine, all mine, to enjoy. I bloomed under his hungry kisses, his gentle sucks, his stinging licks, his harsh grip.
“These tits are gonna fucking kill me,” he said in between kisses.
I let out a stream of lazy laughter.
His thumb rubbed back and forth over a nipple. “I love your laugh.” He pressed closer against me. “Never lose that laugh. I need to hear it.”
I basked in the thousand sparks shimmering across my skin from his touch, from his raw voice in the shadows. But something sad lingered in the air from his tone, his silence.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“Yeah. You know, you never answered my question.”
“Which one?”
He chuckled, his hair falling across his face, tickling my skin. He settled his head on my chest. “Do you want me in your ass?”
I kissed his forehead. “I want you everywhere.”
“WHAT A MESS!”
My head lurched off my pillow, and my eyes unglued in the semidarkness. A girl stood, facing the mirror opposite my bed, her light-colored hair, hair the color of dawn, fell past her shoulders.
Jill.
I let out an exhale and fell back against my pillow again. For a second there, I’d thought…no, impossible. That was another fucking lifetime.
The first of many fucking messes.
I sat up in the bed. “What did you say?”
“My face is a mess,” replied Jill. “I’m all puffy.”
I rubbed a hand down my chest. “You’re fucking beautiful. You just didn’t get enough sleep.”
“Sorry. Did I wake you up?” She leaned over me, her fingers tracing a line up my chest.
I clasped her wrist and brought her hand to my mouth, kissing it. “You’re beautiful, Jillee.”
“Stop.”
“You are, baby.” My thumb glided over the edge of the bruise that motherfucker had left on her cheek. “You are.”
She tangled her fingers in mine. “We should leave soon, so I can see Becca and Rae, change my clothes, and then we can get to the doctor on time. Grace called me earlier.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“She’s going to meet us at the doctor’s.”
“Good.”
I pulled her down and kissed her. Her small moans and soft giggles made something warm ripple through my chest.
Jill’s tongue, Jill’s breathy moans, Jill’s taste.
Jill. Not black-eyed creatures from the past.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
She pushed my hair away from my face, a pink color rising on her cheeks. “Let’s just say, you made me feel like a million bucks last night,” she said softly.
I chuckled as I wrapped a hand around her upper thigh. “You tasted better than a million bucks. You coming on my mouth? Even better.” I grinned at her as she squirmed on the edge of the bed.
My hand stroked over her belly, and she covered my hand with hers. “I’m looking forward to seeing the ultrasound, making sure everything’s okay with our Super-baby. Grace was so upset. I hated seeing her like that.”
I kissed her shoulder. “I know, babe. We were all upset.”
“I should’ve told Catch sooner. I could’ve had Tania and Grace with me to make it easier. That would have been a no-brainer. Me and twenty-twenty hindsight.” Her eyes got watery.
“Hey, this ain’t your fault.” I sat up, holding on to her hands. “That motherfucker did this all on his own. He didn’t have to react that way. He chose to threaten your life and the baby’s. He chose to put you on his bike and drag you over here to make a statement. Then, he goes and pulls a gun on you and Grace. Why? ’Cause he was jealous, pissed off? You two have been over for months. Guy’s a dick, Jill. Needs to grow up.”
“I could’ve been mature about it instead of avoiding it and putting off telling him. I knew that he’d have some sort of reaction, just not so thermonuclear.” She let go of my hands and pulled on the hem of her T-shirt. “And now, my pathetic drama created problems for your clubs.”
“Listen to me, this shit is not on you. Get that out of your head right now. And nothing about you is pathetic.”
I wrapped a hand around her neck, pulling her close, and took her mouth, slowly kissing her.
“Minty girl. You found my toothbrush?”
She nodded. “That okay? Or does that gross you out?”
“It takes a hell of a lot more to gross me out, baby.”
She let out that priceless small laugh again.
“How are you really doing though? Hmm?” I tugged at her lower lip with my thumb. An odd warmth burrowed through my insides at the sight of her cheeks flushing, her eyes shining back at me.
This is temporary. Temporary.
“I’m fine. No cramping or twinges or—”
“No, I mean, getting taken like that must have set off a few alarm bells for you, huh?”
“I guess. Yeah. A few.”
“A man you trusted, the father of your kid, turned on you. Can’t ignore that shit, Jill.”
“It’s over now.” She moved away and went back to the mirror, combing her fingers through her hair.
“You need to talk it out. You can talk to me about anything. I’m a good listener.”
She grinned. A greedy grin, like a kid who had gotten a huge ice cream sundae and refused to share. “You’re good at a hell of a lot of things.”
I jacked up from the bed and swatted her on the ass. “And don’t you forget it.”
“I don’t think I ever will.” Her eyes held mine through the mirror.
I stretched out behind her, and her gaze fell to my chest and then lower to my hard cock. I winked at her. “I’ll be ready in five.”
She smiled at me, and that heat inside me only burrowed deeper.
Fuck, everything was worth that smile.
I got dressed, and grabbed Jill a banana a
nd a yogurt from the kitchen for a quick breakfast in my truck. We stopped at Rae’s, so she could change, see her daughter, and reassure Rae that she was fine.
At the doctor’s office in Rapid, Grace was waiting for us in the parking lot. Once we all got upstairs, the receptionist ushered Jill in right away with Grace at her side.
I sat in the waiting room and stretched my legs, my shades still on. I didn’t have to remove them. They adjusted in the light into a groovy purply tone. It also kept people away. I didn’t like people in general. Most bikers I knew didn’t either.
A woman in a very tight suit with a briefcase at her side lifted her head from her cell phone and stared at me, a thin eyebrow poking up her forehead. I glared at her, and she went back to tapping on her phone. A pregnant woman was reading a picture book to her young son who was eating a chocolate bar. He looked up at me, and I gave him a tight grin.
I flipped through a parenting magazine and skimmed an article on prepping for the baby’s arrival. I tossed it and shuffled through the other magazines on the table at my side. Celebrity gossip rags, health and exercise rags, pregnancy and delivery—
Ugh, no, thanks.
I’d been to a lot of places, but a gyno’s office was not one of them.
“Oh, Brent, honey, let me clean your hands and mouth,” said the mom, putting down the storybook. “What a mess!” She wiped down his hands with a wet wipe.
A mess.
Gets messy.
“Very messy.”
I took in a breath and leaned over, my elbows on my knees.
I was fifteen years old at the genesis of my big mess.
Spanish curses, slaps, and a woman’s squeaks and breathy shouts echoed through the thin walls of the apartment.
“He’ll be done soon. Come here.”
Inès shivered, her teeth chattering, as she wrapped her slim body up in mine.
“I hate it when he does this,” she whispered.
“I know. Me, too.”
The sounds of my Uncle Johnny screwing some puta, as he called the women he brought home, from his room next to ours was a frequent ritual. His Spanish only came to life when he was mad, drunk, or screwing women, which was most of the time.
This was home for the last five years.
It was Inès’s home though, not mine. Inès and I had shared a bed since I’d first come to live with them, but now, I was fifteen going on sixteen and she was fourteen. It was hard for me—emphasis on hard—when she would curl up against me in the middle of the night or cuddle up in my arms after a nightmare, which was pretty frequently. She had turned into this pretty, curvy girl all of a sudden. Just like the girls at school I liked to stare at.