Wanderer (The Nomad Series Book 2)

by Janine Infante Bosco

  Yeah, fucking heaven.

  Her pussy swallows my cock and I lose it. Another thrust and I fill her tight body with my release. Sweating, panting and exhausted she falls over me, laying her head on my chest.

  “That was amazing,” she pants. “So fucking good, Cobra,” she adds, pressing a kiss to my chest before licking my nipple. “Can we do it again?”

  My cock still throbbing inside her and her pussy still quivering, she wants to go again. Go on, tell me I’m not a lucky motherfucker.

  I choke out a laugh and slap her ass.

  “We’ll be late for the doctor,” I remind her as I swipe my forehead with the back of my hand.

  “I have pull you know,” she counters. “They won’t give away our appointment if we’re a few minutes late,” she adds, pushing up.

  Straddling me, she brushes her hair away from her face and rotates her hips slowly. Mischief alive in her eyes.

  “You know you want to,” she taunts. “Tell me you don’t want me to bend over right now,” she dares.

  Of course I want to. In a perfect world, I’d fuck her morning, noon and night. My dick twitches at the possibility and the little tease takes that moment to slide off. Rolling her eyes, she flips her hair behind her shoulder.

  “Fine, you win but when we’re done at the doctor, you owe me an orgasm,” she demands, winking at me as she climbs off the bed.

  “Deal,” I agree as I sit up and lean against the headboard. She walks around the room gathering what she needs for a shower and I take in the subtle changes in her body. Sitting roughly around five weeks pregnant, her full tits aren’t the only change. Her curves seem rounder, ass and hips a little fuller—I fucking love it.

  “God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” I say as she bends down to pull open the bottom drawer of her dresser.

  “Let’s see if you say that in a couple of months when you have to roll me out of the bed,” she teases.

  “I can’t wait to see you like that,” I admit, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed. “You’ll be even more gorgeous,” I say confidently.

  Spinning her around, I capture her mouth with mine and walk her backward into the bathroom. Not willing to waste any more time, and too anxious to hear that heartbeat for the first time, I run us a shower and do my damnedest not to drop to my knees and run my tongue along her pussy.

  After she dresses herself, she gets Skylar ready and I go about making her breakfast. Figuring a waffle is the easiest thing to eat on the go, I pop one into the toaster and check to see if I have any missed calls.

  Seems like I’ve been doing that a lot lately, staring at my phone waiting for the call that will set the ball in motion and bring us one step closer to ending Yankovich once and for all. As anxious as I am, I’m also fucking nervous. Jack sent Deuce into Albany a week ago and he hasn’t returned yet. The bastard refused a burner phone, claiming he was doing this shit his way. He didn’t want to chance the risk of getting caught, knowing the heat will fall on all of us.

  So while he’s off risking his ass, we’re sitting here waiting for him to return and give us the intel on Rush and whatever the fuck he’s got going on with Vlad. I shouldn’t say we’re sitting here because none of us have been twiddling our thumbs. Wolf has been busy with Linc. The poor guy needed another surgery in the midst of all this shit. The money Wolf forked up to keep him in the hospital is running thin and Jack is scrambling around looking for a way to come up with the rest of the money we’re going to need to get him the care he needs.

  To my surprise, Celeste offered to look into different facilities that might be willing to take on his treatment. She has a social worker helping her and they’re trying to get him on Medicaid, hoping they’ll get him covered for the rehab at least.

  Rocco has been holding his end of the deal too, keeping everything moving in regards to the harbor. Once we get confirmation on the shipment Vlad is going to move we’re going to ride to Albany where Stryker is hiding out with Gina.

  That’s another thing Jack isn’t too happy about. He ordered Stryker to take Gina out of Brooklyn, told him to give her time to heal away from the drama and the reminders of what happened to her. He didn’t expect that he’d whisk her away to the town where Deuce was running around fucking with his old club. Fearing both our brothers are too far out of reach if something should go down has him teetering on the edge of insanity. Blackie’s never too far behind him though, awaiting the impending breakdown he’s sure will come. As if we’re not fucked enough, let’s add Jack’s mental illness to the mix.

  “Okay, we’re ready,” Celeste says from behind me.

  Grabbing the waffle from the toaster, I shove my phone back inside my pocket and turn to them.

  “Well then let’s do this,” I reply, slinging the diaper bag over my shoulder as I hand Skylar the waffle.

  I wonder what happens when there’s two little people, how we’ll maneuver a toddler and an infant out the door whenever we have to go somewhere. It makes me think of my parents. I imagine my father wondered the same thing. He was probably even more nervous than I am considering he was having two at the same exact time. There was no practice before the second came along. Alexandria and I shook their whole world upside down. With the few memories I have, I know my parents owned their role. They made it seem easy.

  Maybe it was. Maybe they had twins because they could handle it. Maybe that’s why when there was only one they had no idea what to do.

  Walking toward the door, I stop in my tracks and turn to Celeste.

  “After we hear the heartbeat are we going to tell people or did you want to wait some more?” I ask.

  “No, I think we can tell people,” she replies as I hold the door open for her. Holding Skylar’s hand, they walk out and I lock up behind us.

  “Good, we should tell your parents first,” I add.

  Again, my mind wanders back to my family. It’s so fucked up they’re missing all this. Yet some part of me thinks it’s probably better. It’s kind of uncanny how much Skylar resembles Alex. She’s a blonde version of my sister as a child. I suppose it could have gone either way. They would have either been devastated by the reminder or healed by the little girl who wound up healing me and her mom in ways she’ll never understand.

  We drop Skylar off at Nancy and Sal’s before we head to the OB-GYN office located across the street from the hospital. It’s her first visit being pregnant so she spends a good ten minutes filling out a bunch of paperwork.

  After she took the test and it came back positive, the next day she had one of the sonogram techs give her an internal ultrasound to make sure everything was good. She measured about two to three weeks at the time and told us it was too soon to hear the heartbeat. The doctor scheduled her appointment around the five week mark to ensure we’d have a heartbeat when we came in.

  By the time they call her into the examining room, I was ready to climb the walls. The nurse takes her weight, tests her urine sample and tells us the doctor will be with us in a minute. A minute turns to five and I’m tempted to run into the hall and ask what the hell is keeping him.

  Unable to keep still, I sit beside the exam table, my knee twitching a mile per minute as she runs her fingers over the top of my head.

  “Relax,” she soothes with a smile. “This is the good stuff.”

  I lift my head and stare up at her. Dressed in a paper gown smiling at me, she’s everything. Everything I never thought I’d ever have again. I wasn’t there for her with Skylar. I was off fucking my life up some more and she was here, sitting by herself, probably crawling the walls like I’m doing right now. I didn’t give her my support then, and right now, though I’m here, I’m a useless lump.

  Snapping out of it, I reach for her hand, thread our fingers together and bring them to my lips. I pepper her knuckles with kisses as the door swings open and the doctor walks in.

  “Hello, Ms. Spinelli, good to see you again,” he says with a smile.

  I don’t like him.

/>   I know it’s ridiculous but the way he says it’s good to see you again and grins is just fucking annoying. I wonder if he’s really glad to see her or if he’s itching to see what she’s got under that ridiculous gown.

  Mine

  All fucking mine.

  Shaking my head, I tell myself this dope sees pussy all day. He probably can’t even catch a hard-on anymore. Whatever, it works for me. I even shake his hand and all that. Granted, I probably put a little more force in it than I should, but ask me if I give a fuck. He’s about to go into my territory and all I can do is sit here, shake his hand and watch him.

  I should have been a gynecologist and not a fucking a criminal.

  Maybe in my next life.

  “So, judging by the sonogram you had done in the hospital and your last menstrual cycle we’re putting you at five weeks and three days, give or take the days, is that right?”

  “Yes,” she says.

  “Okay, so let’s take a look and see how everything is progressing,” Dr. Pussy says, as he puts on a pair of latex gloves. He grabs the wand looking thing connected to the sonogram machine and rolls a condom on it.

  Crazy fucking shit.

  “Refresh my memory. This is your second pregnancy, right?”

  “Yes,” Celeste answers, as she props her feet into the stirrups and eases down on the table. “Everything was perfect the first time. There were no hiccups, the baby progressed right on time and I delivered naturally.”

  “Excellent. Girl or boy?”

  “Girl,” she beams.

  He turns to me and grins.

  “So we’re rooting for a boy this time around, Dad?”

  Truthfully, I didn’t give much thought to it. I always thought a person was bullshitting when they said they didn’t care what they were having just as long as it’s healthy. In my head, the man wanted a boy, and the woman of course was pushing for a girl. Now thinking about it, I truly don’t care. If we had another little girl, I’d be just as thrilled as I’d be if I had a son.

  Little girls are scary.

  The thought of her growing into a teenager makes me want to shoot something.

  But the love a little girl has for her daddy is nothing to joke about. Skylar took to me immediately. I don’t think she understood at first, but her heart knew from the start I was hers and she was mine.

  That right there is the good stuff.

  The great stuff.

  Give me ten girls.

  Make them all as sweet and pure as her.

  I’ll die a happy man.

  I must’ve said that out loud. Celeste is crying as she smiles at me and the doctor is busy laughing at me.

  Another smile.

  This one might be my favorite of all time so I count it as two. Somewhere along the way I gave up on that piece of paper. Filling it was easier than I thought it would be. Now I need a fucking notebook to keep track of all the smiles.

  Then it happens.

  A loud swooshing noise fills the room and my heart begins to pound uncontrollably as I force my eyes to the monitor and I see my child for the first time.

  The doctor speaks but I don’t hear a word he says.

  All I hear is the sound of her heartbeat.

  Loud.

  Strong.

  Perfect.

  The good stuff.

  The beautiful we take for granted.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  I should have known the call would come as soon as I put a smile on my face or showed the world I was happy. Jack called the minute we stepped outside the hospital, putting our plans to tell Sal and Nancy about the baby on hold. Instead, I dropped her off at their house and told her I’d catch her after church.

  On my way to Pipe’s garage, I called Rick and told him Deuce was back and we were all meeting to discuss his findings. Like us, he dropped everything he was doing and headed straight to the garage. This was just as much a big deal for him as it was for me and my club. He’s invested years of his life trying to catch Yankovich and bring justice to all the girls he kidnapped.

  Pulling into the lot, I spot Rocco’s flashy car parked amongst the sea of chrome. By the looks of it, and the two guys dressed in suits standing like soldiers in front of the garage, I’d say Spinelli beefed up his security. Looks like the mobster is getting wise, preparing for war and all.

  Dropping down my kickstand, I kill the engine and throw my leg over my bike. I hear Rick’s mustang before he enters the parking lot and when I turn around, he finally pulls in. Parking in the only available space, he jumps out of the car and starts for me.

  “You hear anything?” he asks, a little breathless.

  “No, I waited for you before going in,” I say, pulling the cigar out of his mouth. “Quit it, will you? You can’t even fucking breathe.”

  “I breathe just fine,” he argues, snatching the Cuban from my hand. “Now lead the way, jackass.”

  Stubborn.

  Shaking my head, I shove my hands into my pockets and draw in a deep breath before stepping inside the garage. My eyes immediately dart around the faces in search of Deuce. I find him sitting on an oil drum in one piece.

  Unscarred.

  Thank fuck for small favors.

  “He’s here,” Spinelli says jutting his chin toward me. “Can we get on with it now?”

  Rick and I pull two crates toward the table and take a seat as Jack leans against his chair and stares down the table at Rocco.

  “Your uncle was a patient man, how he ever chose you to run his shit I’ll never know,” Jack comments.

  “Yeah, well when you know the answer be sure to clue me in too,” Rocco grunts, raising an eyebrow at Jack. “But until then maybe you can slam your little meat cleaver on the table and get this show on the road?”

  “Mallet, it’s a meat mallet,” Deuce corrects with a sneer.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Jack growls, slamming the mallet against the wood. “All right, before these two bitches claw each other’s eyes out over my fucking gavel, let’s get down to business.”

  “That is not a gavel,” Rocco points out.

  “He will shoot you, man, and there’s a whole lot more leather than there is silk sitting around this table,” Blackie warns.

  “Look, we don’t have time to sit here and argue over shit. Call it what you want, it’s fucking ridiculous. Period. The fucking end. Now do you fucks want to listen to me? We need to get our asses moving,” Rocco grunts.

  “Go on, boy,” Wolf urges. “What’d you find out?”

  “First off, that motherfucker Rush is as crazy as the day is long,” he offers, pointing his thumb toward Jack. “No offense, Prez, but this guy runs circles around you. Even on your worst trip to crazyville you couldn’t be more fucked than he is,” he says, pushing his fingers through his hair.

  “Rush is digging a hole for that chapter. It won’t be long before the Satan’s Knights of Albany is buried. The only reason they’re hanging on is because of the vice president. He’s a cautious guy and you can tell he’s trying to salvage the mess Rush is making. However, I’m not too sure he knows how deeply fucked they all are. He’s the only one who was skeptical of my intentions. Felt his eyes on me the whole fucking time I was there.”

  “What’s his name?” Riggs asks as he types some shit into his phone.

  “Bas,” Deuce informs.

  “Great, now send him a Christmas card and get on with the story,” Rocco orders.

  “I’m going to lay this motherfucker out,” Deuce sneers, turning to Jack. “With or without your fucking permission.”

  “After we’re done with him, you can hang him from the flagpole out front for all I care, but right now I need you to continue.”

  Sighing heavily, he shoots a glare at Rocco before continuing.

  “Anyway, there were a couple of times I walked in on Rush talking in hushed tones, but it wasn’t to Bas or the treasury. Any conversation I caught him having was with his prospects or the fucking girl he’s obsessed with.�
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  This sparks Riggs’ interest. He lifts his head from the screen he’s staring at and turns to Deuce.

  “Rush has an old lady,” Riggs points out.

  “Sorry, buddy, I hate to burst your bubble, but I’ve been to a lot of chapters and they don’t all operate like Brooklyn. I’ve never had to work for pussy as hard as I do here. They keep that shit flowing in other joints. Albany has plenty to go around.”

  “I take it you sampled some of that,” Wolf taunts.

  “Damn straight I did,” Deuce grins. “Perks of the job, man.”

  “You know when I picked up Stryker, he told me about Albany when I asked him about why he went nomad. He had some issues with his old man, but he couldn’t stand being around Rush anymore. Hated what he was doing to one of the girls there. I bet you it’s the same chick,” Wolf says.

  “Maybe. Did he describe her to you?”

  “Not that I recall,” Wolf says.

  “Or that you’d remember,” I point out.

  “I don’t know what the deal is with the girl, but if this mission winds up putting us at war with Albany, she’s your golden ticket. Aside from drugs, she’s Rush’s weakness. The problem with that is she’s fucked too, thinks that guy is a god or some shit, probably because he feeds her habit.”

  Deuce is right, there isn’t a shortage of whores floating around in the clubhouses and as nomads we’ve all sampled them. Mostly they’re just lonely women looking for someone to claim them. They hang around the clubhouses hoping someone will give them their colors but it never happens. You don’t buy the cow when you get the milk for free. Look around this table, no man with an old lady here settled down with a club bitch. It just doesn’t work like that.

  “The shipment,” Rocco interrupts. “Did you get any intel on the shipment?”

  “Or Yankovich,” Rick adds.

  “I’m getting there,” Deuce grinds out.

  “Well get there quicker,” Rocco orders.

  “Come on, Deuce,” I urge, forcing him to turn his gaze back to me before he jumps over the table and beats the fuck out of Spinelli.