Tempting Fate

by Kylie Hillman

  “The vote for Beast didn’t pass.” Every ounce of oxygen is sucked out of my lungs at his pronouncement. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the happy tears that are filling my eyes.

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” I wrap my arms around his waist, laying my head on his shoulder and kissing the side of his neck. “You’ll never know how much this means to me.”

  Mik stiffens, his arms still on the bar instead of returning my embrace.

  “I know this would have been hard for you. Hell, he deserves to pay for what he’s done, but exile from the Shamrocks and his kids is enough.” I lean back so I can look Mik in the eyes. It’s plain to see that he needs reassurance that he did the right thing. The tight set of his jaw and the confusion in his expression calls to me, pleading with me to reaffirm that he’s made the right choice. “I’ll spend the rest of my life thanking you for this. I love you. Love that you had the strength to do what’s right for our future. For my little brothers. For our kids, when we’re blessed with some.”

  When I say “our kids”, Mik’s features change in a split second—the confusion morphing into amazement. He gathers me in his arms, his hug so constricting that I can barely breathe. My feet hardly make contact with the ground. I lift my head so our mouths can meet. Ignoring the taste of stale beer, cannabis, and cigarettes, I let him kiss me until we’re both breathless. My fingers find their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the short, silky strands while he kneads my backside with firm hands. He puts me back on my feet, then grabs my hand and begins to lead me toward the bedrooms. Timber and Joel must have been hovering and they step into our path, causing us to come to a stop. Timber shakes his head at me, sadness in his ice-blue eyes. He clears his throat and addresses Mik. “Mad Dog, I don’t know what you’re playing at but—”

  “Shut the fuck up. It’s none of your bloody business.” Mik growls at his best friend, then at Joel when he looks like he’s about to say something. Figuring that they’re worried about Mik’s drunken state and his previous behaviour at the bar, I speak up to set them at ease. “It’s okay, guys. We’re just going to bed.”

  “But, he’s—”

  “If you know what’s fucking good for you, you’ll think twice before you stick your fucking nose where it’s not welcome again.” Timber doesn’t heed Mik’s cryptic warning, opening his mouth once more; so I step between them.

  One hand on Timber’s massive chest, the other braced against my growling man. “Timber, I said it’s okay. If you’re not too drunk, go home to JJ. She didn’t look like she was having much fun when I stopped by on my way home from work.”

  “Princess—”

  “Shut up, Timber,” I laugh, grabbing Mik’s hand and dragging him past our two self-appointed sentries. “Come on, Mad Dog, I’ve got something you can growl at.”

  Practically skipping, I hold his hand all the way to our bedroom. Mik opens the door, ushering me through first. He slams it shut, flipping the lock, then advancing on me with lust-filled intent in his eyes. I back up—not because I don’t want what’s coming, but because I can see it’s what he wants me to do. My thighs hit the edge of the bed, forcing me to stop. Mik grabs either side of my dress shirt and rips it open. Buttons fly off in multiple directions, and I barely have enough time to draw in a lungful of air before it’s pulled down my arms and thrown on the floor.

  Mik turns me so my back is facing him. He unclasps my bra and it quickly joins my shirt. Pushing my skirt up my hips until I’m wearing it like a belt, he yanks my panties to one side. One hand on the nape of my neck, he pushes me onto my stomach on the bed; using his other hand to spread my legs.

  Without preamble, Mik lets out a feral groan as he pushes his hard cock into my pussy. I’m ready for him, wet and willing, although his ferocity wasn’t expected. My body stretches around his, giving him the access that he desires. With his thumb on my clit, he fucks me—because there’s no way it could be called lovemaking—with savage enthusiasm. I brace my hands on the bed and turn my head to the side so I can breathe when he bends over me, resting his weight on my back. It’s almost too much having him take me like this so soon after our rough night last night. If I wasn’t receiving enough pleasure from Mik to distract me, this position would be close to triggering one of my panic attacks. I moan, digging my fingers into the bedcovers when my core begins to spasm, an orgasm approaching slowly. It dies a quick death when Mik removes his thumb from my clit.

  He lifts himself off me and grips my shoulders on either side of my neck. Using my upper body for leverage, he drives himself into me with short, staccato thrusts that start to get painful after the first dozen or so. I try to push myself upright so I can crawl away from him, failing dismally when he lowers his weight back onto me.

  “Tell me you’re mine.” Mik commands in my ear. Swallowing the panic that’s trying to rise into my throat and choke me, I nod as much as I can. “Say it, Lainey. Tell me you’re mine. Forever.”

  “I’m yours, Mik.” I whisper as loudly as I can. My throat is locking down, my mind trying to drag me back into my nightmare from six years ago. It’s only Mik. It’s only Mik. It’s only Mik. I chant over and over in an effort to stop the memories from breaking free.

  “Good,” he rasps against my hair. Changing the pace of his pumping, Mik eases up on me for the moment. “Doesn’t matter what you say, anyway. I’m never letting you go. You fucking belong to me. I fucking belong to you. And that’s that.”

  I gasp when he pulls my hair from its chignon and wraps it around his wrist. Mik tilts my head back then slides his other hand between my lower belly and our bed. He flicks my clit, bringing back to life the orgasm that had fled. Bolts of ecstasy flow through me as I crest the precipice and fall over it into my release. Mik follows moments later, a wild-sounding groan leaving him as he comes. As I’m battling through the aftershocks of my climax, he thrusts himself into me one final time and then bends forward so he can sink his teeth into the dog paw print tattoo between my shoulder blades. His Club mark. The one that says I’m his Old Lady.

  He doesn’t break the skin; still I’m left feeling as if he’s marked me in that spot again. Rolling to the left side of me, he gathers me into his arms so I’m facing him, and brushes my hair from my face. The certainty in his gaze matches his words. “I meant what I said. We’re forever. You can try to run, but I’ll chase you and bring you back every time. I watched you leave me for the last fucking time this morning.”

  Running his fingers over the spot he just bit, he plants a kiss on the end of my nose then grins. “Let this be your reminder. You’re marked for life, Angel.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MIK

  Kissing Lainey goodbye, I try to ignore the guilt that’s knocking around my thick skull—right along with the biggest motherfucking hangover I’ve ever had.

  “Love you,” she breathes against my lips before disappearing through the door. I make sure it’s securely latched behind her before turning around and acknowledging the cockheads who’ve been burning holes in the back of my head with their glares since we walked into the bar this morning.

  “What?” I ask, walking behind the bar and grabbing a beer from the closest fridge. Cracking the top, I drain it in one go and hope like fuck that it works. You know; hair of the dog that bit you, and all that shit. Although, I think it might be the half dozen cones I smoked that did me in more so than the beer. When the silence continues, I turn to face Smoke and Joel. Shoulders shaking, I laugh at them both standing there with their arms folded across their chests like a pair of tin soldiers. “Cat got your tongue?”

  “No, but I think aliens have your fucking brain.” Smoke drawls at me. He lights up a cigarette, then huffs when I snatch it from him and starting smoking it myself. “You’re living fucking dangerously; getting between me and my morning nicotine and bullshitting your woman in front of witnesses—all in the same twenty-four hours.”

  Taking another drag, I flick the half-smoked butt at him and head fo
r the exit. I’m shrugging my leather jacket on when Joel speaks up. “Mad Dog, I heard what you told Maddi last night. It’s going to break her heart when she finds out you lied to her.”

  Shrugging, I grab my helmet. “Didn’t lie. She assumed. Two different things.”

  Smoke advances, his disgust with me written all over his face. I push open the door, intent on ending this lecture before it starts. Things were too fucking good between me and Lainey this morning to fuck them up. I’d woken with a start, and after checking that my T-shirt was still on, I’d laid back down and tried to remember how I’d ended up in bed. All I could picture was bending my angel over our bed last night and fucking her like I hated her. That’s not something I’d normally feel bad about because sometimes she needs it to get off; except the fading red hand prints on her shoulder and the bite mark on her back told me I might’ve taken it too fucking far. An apology and twenty-five different excuses were on the tip of my tongue until Lainey had rolled over and thanked me again for not letting the vote to end her father pass by wrapping her plump lips around my morning wood. That sort of treatment ain’t something a man’s gonna ruin by opening his mouth.

  “You know as well as I do that it’s still a fucking lie by omission. She’s gonna lose her shit when she finds out that the vote actually passed; it’s just that D-day’s postponed until Viking’s gone.” He speaks the truth and all three of us know it. I halt my exit and turn on my heel to face him. Smoke regards me with sympathy, appearing to understand how hard my dad’s proposal is for me to stomach. Patting me on the shoulder, he continues driving his point home. “Wouldn’t it be better to tell her the truth? That way she’s got time to get used to the idea before it happens.”

  He hasn’t finished his statement before I’m shaking my head. “None of you saw her yesterday when she asked me to choose. She made it clear there’s no fucking room for a compromise.”

  “So what are you going to do then?” Joel asks.

  “I’m going to let her live in ignorant bliss. I’m not losing her over that piece of shit. He deserves to die, and die he will—once I work out how to do it without Lainey finding out it was me.” The issue is settled in my mind so I swing around and twist the handle to the door. Pushing it open, I look back over my shoulder as I step out into the fresh air to find that they’re following me outside, apparently still intent on arguing the damn point. “Listen to me carefully. None of you get to spill the beans. Club business stays between brothers unless we chose to tell our Old Ladies. That’s one of the main rules in our constitution. It’s been relaxed in recent years but I’m ordering a moratorium on sharing Club business with anyone other than members of our other chapters.”

  Smoke scuffs his boot along the cement path. Scowling at me, he shakes his head. “Fuck you. This is gonna come back and bite you on the ass. The sound you’ll hear in the background when it does will be me laughing my fucking head off at you. When this shit blows up in your face, don’t forget that I told you so. Prez.”

  I tighten my grip on my helmet and breathe through the urge to beat the smug bastard to death with it. I’ll die before I let his prediction come true. With a sneer, I yell after him as he heads back inside. “Club before blood, brother. If you can’t handle that then feel free to join your fucking traitor uncle.”

  The only thing I get in return is the sound of the door slamming. Shifting from foot to foot, I meet Joel’s eyes. He’s the only one with the power to fuck me over now—that’s if fucking Timber didn’t run straight back to his woman last night to cry on her shoulder. “You’ve gotta see where I’m coming from?”

  Joel runs shaky hands over his chin, scratching at the beginnings of the beard he’s growing, then crosses his arms across his chest with effort. “All I see in front of me is a man, who’s so scared of losing the only thing that means anything to him anymore, that he’s willing to hang on to it by any means possible. I also see someone hell bent on destroying himself so he can have his cake and eat it too.”

  Letting out a drawn-out whistle, I force myself to laugh. There’s no way I’m letting him know how close to the bone he is. “Did you see all that in your crystal ball or did it come to you in a dream?”

  Uncrossing his arms, Joel smiles as he takes a step closer to me. He pokes me in the middle of the forehead with his index finger. “Not in a dream. I saw it all through my third eye. My sixth chakra, if you will. It also told me that your third, fifth, and seventh chakras are blocked. That’s why I’m going to take it easy on you for now.”

  Chakras? Third fucking eyes? This new-age shit he practices means nothing to me. It’s all gobble-de-gook. Cocking my eyebrow at him, I seek some clarification. “In English?”

  “It means that I’m aware something big has happened to you that’s thrown your spirit out of balance. You’ve lost your essence. That thing that made you uniquely Mik Kennedy has been damaged. Knowing this, I’ve decided to hold my tongue so I can give you some time to regain your equilibrium.”

  His speech hits home. I like to pretend I’m just a hick biker; that any feeling except for hunger, hatred, and horniness is for pussies. I not quite that shallow; because his sister managed to worm her way under my skin years ago, opening me up to wanting shit I never thought I would. Like marriage, babies, and growing old with the one woman. My stint in jail didn’t break me—fuck, it wasn’t my first rodeo—it was the source of the betrayal that snapped me in half. If it’d been anyone but Beast behind it, I could’ve coped with what went down. But it wasn’t, it was my godfather—Lainey’s fucking dad—who made sure I was left with a permanent fucking reminder of how easy it is to lose everything. And, that shit there, is what I can’t bring myself to swallow.

  “How long?”

  He hesitates, pursing his lips as he tries to decide. Time stands still; my heart pounding in my goddamn chest, my blood rushing in my ears while I wait for him to give me his deadline. “One month after Viking leaves us.”

  “You little shit.” I jam my helmet on my head, and get in his face. Points to him, even crippled, he holds his ground and stares back at me passively. “You just played me like a cheap fucking guitar.”

  Joel shrugs, then starts to limp away from me. I wait for him to say something. He doesn’t. Without a backward glance, he tries to pull open the door that Smoke slammed. “That’s it, Joel? You have nothing else to say?”

  Finally getting the door open, he props it with his body and regards me with the “know-it-all” expression that makes most of us want to punch him in the face. “What else is there to say, Mad Dog? You’ve got what you wanted. The Shamrocks have been ordered into eternal silence. I promised I’ll keep quiet until a month after your dad’s death—by which time, I’m assuming my dad will be dead too. Not my fault that victory doesn’t taste as good as you expected.”

  ***

  Joel’s parting words echo around my head during the entire ride to Timber’s house. My hangover is back in full-force. My right eye feels like it’s got a pulse of its own pounding away behind the eyeball and my mouth’s dry as fuck. Turning into his street, I line his driveway up then gain enough speed so that I can switch my bike off and roll up to his house. Even I’m not dumb enough to wake a newborn baby—especially after seeing JJ wield a scalpel.

  Pity I was dumb enough to find myself backed into a corner by Joel. The little prick might refuse to attend physio or do anything that’ll help him deal with his crippling injuries; nevertheless, he certainly knows how to meddle in all our lives so he can make us do what he thinks is right.

  Texting Timber that I’m here, I make my way through his side gate and head for his back deck. He’s pulling the French doors that lead onto the alfresco area closed by the time I get there. With a finger to his lips, he gestures to the chairs with a hand that’s holding two beers. I take a seat and a beer, then stare at the ground while I wait for him to speak. After copping it from Joel and Smoke this morning, I know I’m in for another sermon from him since he’s Lainey�
�s self-appointed white knight.

  “Nice day, isn’t it?” I lift my head, meeting his amused gaze with wide eyes. The asshole chuckles. “I’m not gonna lecture you. Heard you’ve already had Joel on your ass this morning; once that boy’s been preaching at someone, there’s not a whole lot left for anyone else to say.”

  After taking a gulp of my beer, I let out a small laugh. “True.”

  We sit in silence for a while. I let myself relax for the first time since I woke up this morning, watching the water ripple and sway in his pool with the gentle breeze that’s blowing. Finishing my beer, I put the bottle on the ground next to my chair before laying back in it with the arms folded behind my head.

  “So, we good yet? Or, do you still wanna fuck me up?”

  I snort, looking up at the cloud-free sky for answers. “Honestly, I don’t know. When Beast threw his bait out in Chapel that day and I could see in your eyes that he was telling the truth, it fucking hurt, man. I don’t have a real brother, but for me, you were better than having a blood brother because we were brothers by choice. To know that you’d kept something so fucking big from me; knowing that she’d lived with you, and that she had this bond with you that I didn’t, fucking killed me. Everything started to look different—all the times she ran to you instead of me, the times I let her down and you were there to pick up the pieces—it looked like you’d been using that to take her away from me—”

  “Nothing happened,” Timber cuts in. “She’s my best friend, just like you are.”

  “You told her you loved her.”

  He lets out a groan, then gathers his hair and ties it on the top of his head. “I do.”

  I bolt upright, swinging my legs so I’m sitting sideways on my seat. Pointing a finger at him, I vocalise my rage. “You said that she—”