Hopelessly Shattered (Sacred Sinners MC - Texas Chapter #1)

by Bink Cummings

  Elbows re-perched on his knees, fingers tightly clasped together in obvious frustration, Ryker’s narrowed eyes focus in my direction. I hate to admit it, but that searing heat they exude is causing my skin to prickle. I can’t explain how it works. Perhaps it’s some psychological problem I’ve got. Though I swear they’re like a laser beam. I can physically feel them roam, land, and roam some more, never leaving my body as they scorch a trail of heat in their wake. It’s eerie.

  “You don’t have to be a bitch to get your point across, Tiger,” he grumbles.

  My hands occupy themselves by rubbing my belly in circles. It’s the perfect distraction. “If you want me to be nice, then I suggest you stop using that nickname.”

  “You already knocked my fucking nuts into my stomach. What else do ya want? I’m not gonna stop using a nickname I gave you. So you’re just gonna have to deal with that shit.”

  Great. Now I’ve got a fiery ex to handle. I liked him better when he was incapacitated. At least then he couldn’t talk, and those gorgeous eyes weren’t looking at me in ways that I can’t make out, and don’t care to try and decipher.

  Harrumphing, I glare at his chin. It’s a nice chin with a thick goatee and ruggedly sharp angle. One that I used to bite during sex. Oh, fucking, jeez. Why am I thinking about that? Shit … okay … I sweep my glare to his shoulder … the perfect place to dig my nails into when he was screwing me hard. Oh … My … God… This is so wrong. Why am I thinking about sex? Uh! Blinking rapidly, I banish the lewd thoughts from my brain and stare at the wall above his head. If I look at him, I’m going to pay too much attention to that stupidly sexy body and those tattoos he never had before we met. And trust me, there’s plenty of them that my dirty little mind would like to explore with my tongue. If I didn’t hate him, that is.

  “Listen, babe, you shouldn’t be here. I dunno why Pops was stupid enough to allow it. But this ain’t right. You need to leave, and soon. ”

  Hell no! My arms fold right across my chest, tucking in annoyance. “You don’t have any say in what I do or don’t do anymore. So I suggest you try a different tactic. Like, stop ordering me around. I’m not the same woman you were with a million years ago. I’ve got a backbone. And I sure as fuck ain’t gonna let some deadbeat ex of mine tell me what to do. You’ve got ten seconds to explain what the hell you want, or I’m out.” There. That should work. He better listen.

  Sighing, he then garbles something unintelligible. Yep, he’s irritated, just as much as I am. Good. “I’m not yankin’ your chain, Kat. Pops bringin’ ya here is gonna put heat on the club if anyone finds out. Ghost is supposed to be dead. And the people after him won’t like it if they find out otherwise. He can’t travel outside of town for his and the club’s safety. Bringin’ ya here is puttin’ all my girls in danger.”

  “Well, I’m sorry that I’m causin’ problems for your precious Vanessa. Roxie and Scarlett are none of your damn business,” I snip.

  “Woman!” Ryker shoots off the lid so fast he’s a blur. A heartbeat later and his hot, rock-hard body is pressed against mine, breathing labored, eyes wild as they peer down at me from his intimidating height. His lip curls in aggression as I freeze, shocked to my core that he’s so close that I can smell him. T-to-touch him. Oh shit.

  “I am not talkin’ about Vanessa. I’m talkin’ about you and my daughters.” His colossal hand splays itself on the wall beside my head, caging me in. The other drops on top of my belly. Eyes flying wide, my heart rockets into my throat. What the hell is going on? A flutter emerges that I once thought was dead. Oh … no … this is not acceptable.

  Regathering my wits, I shove his hand off my baby bump, and he lets it fall to the wayside. “You don’t get to touch my daughter,” I hiss, placing my palms on his wide shoulders. The leather of his vest is surprisingly soft. “Get away from me.” I shove with all my might, and it does nothing. Not a flinch or sway. I hate that he’s so huge. Gah!

  Ryker snorts. “I like you right where I’ve got ya. So I’m not fuckin’ movin’, my little Tiger.”

  Fan-fucking-tastic. Now the jerkoff is amused. Not what I was going for.

  Scowling, brows pinched to the point I might get a headache, I slap his unforgiving chest, ignoring the sting that claims my palm. “You don’t get to call me your anything, motherfucker.”

  “Sure I do. You’re not gonna try to kick my ass again, ‘cause you’ll feel too guilty, and I like bein’ this close to you.”

  Stupid, smug, son of a bitch!

  “You’re not God’s gift to women, Brent! Ryker! Uh! Whatever the hell your name is.”

  He leans in and audibly sniffs my hair.

  Oh no, he didn’t!

  He doesn’t get to smell me! He doesn’t get anything from me! Putting my back into it, I strain to push him away again. It’s hopeless. Nada.

  Grinding my teeth, I seethe, “Stop sniffing my fucking hair.”

  “I missed the way you smell,” he whispers, hot breath fanning over my scalp.

  Does he not understand I’m angry as hell? Can’t he feel the rage boiling inside of me as I begin to vibrate? If he’s not careful, I’m gonna unleash on him again, and this time, I won’t stop. Damn it. Why does he do this to me? Does he like pushing my buttons? I can usually keep my cool. Right now, it’s impossible. He brings out the worst in me.

  “I didn’t miss a damn thing about your ugly ass,” I lie.

  “Don’t be so hateful, babe. My ass ain’t ugly.” Always with the jokes. Well, this isn’t funny. I’m not laughing. ‘The Hulk’ is about to burst out of my chest any second and smash him into the ground.

  “Ha, ha,” I deadpan, curling my hands into fists atop his pecs, on the verge of socking him in that perfect jaw.

  “Come on. Let it all out,” he urges.

  What the hell is he talking about?

  “What?” I clip.

  “Let it out. Say what you wanna say. Tell me how much of a piece of shit I am. How I was a dick for leaving you. How I’m the worst father in the world. That I don’t deserve to breathe in the same room as you. Say it. I know you’re thinkin’ it. Everybody is. Come on. What are ya waitin’ for?”

  Is he serious? Sure, that’s what I want to say, but he just took all the fun out of it. And his self-deprecating tone is almost painful to listen to. Especially with the raspy edge that’s only there because I jabbed him in the neck. Talk about making me feel like a complete jerk and zapping my rage from a million miles an hour to zero in a matter of seconds. What a buzz kill.

  “Whatever.” Dropping my hands to my sides, stiff as a board, I bite my inner cheek.

  Giving me a smidge of my bubble back, Ryker stops sniffing my hair yet doesn’t move away. “What? You don’t wanna cuss me out? Tell me I’m the biggest piece of shit you’ve ever known? I know ya do, babe. I’ve already been ripped a new asshole from Ghost. The man can’t even talk to me without losin’ his shit. The worst part is: I don’t blame him. I’d feel the same way if it was my daughter some prick had fucked over.” He pauses like he’s waiting for me to say something. Only, I’ve got nothing to say. I’m not sure if he wants my sympathy, or truly expects me to lay into him. He’s an infuriating conundrum. I’ll give him that.

  A dense silence stretches between us, making me all too aware of our closeness, and the spicy scent of his skin. The way his chest rises and falls as he respires too deeply is distracting enough that I can nearly overlook the monster sized erection that’s pressing into my belly, branding its memory there. I can’t believe he could be hard at a time like this. Not with me, his ex. And certainly not after I pummeled his nuts minutes ago.

  Fidgeting, I struggle to keep my emotions in check. Inhaling and exhaling controlled breaths, I stay calm, refusing to let him get to me. I’m better than that.

  His other hand settles on the wall next to my shoulder as I continue to stare at the center of his chest. “When are you due?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  I wil
l not overreact. I will not tell him the truth. I will successfully lie until the guilt truly eats a hole through my soul and I drop dead. My lapse in judgment months ago was not my finest moment. It was an awful man who exploited my weakness and used it to his advantage. He offered me everything, only to rip it away after a tiny taste. Then, one morning weeks later, I woke up puking my guts out. That was when I knew my lapse in judgment was gonna cost me dearly. Not only emotionally, but financially, as I became a mother for the third time.

  “When is Vanessa due?” I counter, keeping my tone light—unaffected.

  “February sometime.”

  Oddly enough, he doesn’t sound too thrilled about that. Maybe it’s because he’s still sporting wood for some ungodly reason, or talking to me about it. It has to be awkward speaking to the mother of your children about your wife having a baby. I know it’s not the easiest thing for me to hear, but at least this child will have a mom and a dad to care for him or her. As bitter as I am about Ryker being a deadbeat dad, I don’t wish a fatherless childhood on any kid. Even his unborn baby. On that same token, I’m not gonna lie and say it doesn’t hurt some. ‘Cause it does. It brings up a whole shit ton of insecurities that I refuse to dwell on any longer. I’ve spent far too many years absorbed in those darker feelings, and thought I’d gotten over them … until recently.

  “That’s nice,” I reply, keeping my optimistic mask in place.

  “I’m not here to talk about her,” Ryker grumbles. “I wanna know when you’re due.”

  His hips swivel, rubbing his erection along my belly like he can’t help himself. It shouldn’t feel as nice as it does, and my clit shouldn’t be reacting like it is. I can’t help it when I’m forced to bite back a groan. For years, I prayed that his cock would catch some incurable STD, turn green, and fall off. Apparently, my wishes didn’t come true. Half of me is sad about that, while the naughtier half is reveling in the feel of it. Stupid, traitorous body.

  It’s time to call a spade a spade so he’ll stop focusing on my daughter, and with any luck, give me a moment’s reprieve. “Why are you hard, Ryker? You’re married. You shouldn’t be rubbing your dick on your ex. That’s pretty disrespectful.”

  “You’re pregnant,” he states as if that explains it all. It doesn’t.

  Tipping my head way back, I officially meet his gaze. Staring at his chest did nothing to help my libido. Not that his striking eyes are much better. “Yeah. So?” I remark, full of sass.

  “You know what you bein’ pregnant does to me. Hell. What you do to me. You’re too fuckin’ beautiful for your own damn good.” There’s so much honesty in his face it’s impossible to ignore.

  “You need to stop talking right now, and take a step back. You’ve lost your mind.” I muster the best glower I’m able, even though it’s pointless. My words won’t penetrate his thick skull. And I’d be lying if I said there weren’t butterflies in my stomach doing the goddamn polka. Compliments from him shouldn’t feel as good as they do. I hate this bastard! This isn’t fair. Why hasn’t my body gotten the memo that we don’t like him? My mind comprehends that. My body … it’s … fuck … he’s already making me wet. And those tender blue eyes are drawing me like a moth to a flame. Just like they used to all those years ago. I squeeze them shut to break the connection, but it’s too late, my heart is already in it. My nipples grow hard as a shiver passes through me that has nothing to do with being cold. A boulder of shame settles in my soul for getting excited. I’m going to go to hell for this I just know it. He’s going to ruin me more than he already has.

  “That was lost the day I left you, and I haven’t gotten it back since,” he replies.

  “You’re bein’ stupid.” Eye’s closed, I push his shoulders. It’s weak at best. “Now back away, before…”

  “Before what?” Ryker’s massive frame leans firmly against mine, his heavy breath washing over my face. Wanton heat blooms in my gut as my panties soak through. What’s wrong with me?

  My hands that haven’t left his shoulders begin to tremble, even as I try to stop them.

  “Before I—”

  Lips brutally crashing down on mine rob me of speech. Everything in my world short circuits as Ryker breaches my mouth with his hungry tongue. A growl rattles in his chest, and he grabs my ass, drawing my hips to him as he thrusts his hardened cock against my belly. My fingers slip into his vest, and I dig my nails into his meaty pecs over his shirt, loving the grunt he expels.

  Impatiently, his tongue coaxes mine, tempting me to kiss back. I remain still, allowing him to plunder wet and greedily without joining along. It’s tough, but I’m trying to be strong, even if I have to throttle a needy whimper when he extracts his tongue to taste the seam of my lips—knowing just what I like.

  “Kiss me back, babe. I can feel ya shaking. I know you need this as much as I do.”

  Hooking my leg over his hip, he affectionately nudges my nose with his before peppering kisses across my cheeks, along my jaw, and back to my mouth where he tastes my lips with the sweep of his tongue—enticing me to break, to fall victim to his delicious charms. And, fuck it all, I want to so badly. Just one last time. Consequences be damned.

  Exhaling unsteadily, I shake my head. “I … I can’t.”

  Not taking no for an answer, the stubborn brute seizes my other leg, forcing me to wrap myself around his hips, ankles locking above his ass. Clasping my hands behind his neck for support, my pussy settles over his thickness, and he thrusts, hitting my clit on the first try. A spark of ecstasy sizzles in my blood as I toss my head back, hitting the wall, groaning in my throat as he does it again and again, relentlessly shocking my system.

  Nails piercing the nape of his neck, I cry out. “You should stop.”

  “No. I wanna make you come,” Ryker growls, painfully gripping my cheeks and rocking his pelvis in slow, steady strokes, knowing damn well what’s going to make me burst. My skin feels too tight. My body a liquid firestorm as he brings me closer and closer to the brink of no return. Whimpers of madness fall from my lips. Eyes roll into the back of my head as the blinding pleasure increases, driving me insane.

  “Oh god,” I moan, rolling my own hips to gain better purchase.

  I’m almost there.

  “That’s it,” he rasps. “Take what you need.”

  “I fucking hate you.” And I do. I can’t believe he’s doing this to me. Turning me inside out. Feeding this insatiable hunger that I’ve only ever felt for him, regardless of my intense hatred.

  “I know ya do. Now it’s time to come.”

  Knowing how to pluck my body like a guitar string, Ryker moves my hips up and down his length, faster and faster until my clit screams for mercy. Giving none, he slams my back against the wall, careful of my belly, and everything in my world detonates. Screaming through the torrent of raw pleasure tearing me limb from limb, my body quakes, losing itself to his onslaught. Lips crash down on mine, swallowing my cries, and I kiss back. Ravenously, our tongues collide, fighting for supremacy as I ride the aftermath of bliss through its crests and fizzles.

  Not finished, Ryker continues to fuck my little button until I can’t take it anymore. Ripping my lips from his with a gasp, he immediately dives in for more. “Stop, you asshole.”

  Panting, he pecks the corner of my mouth. “Give me your lips, my little Tiger.”

  I turn my head away, and his lips brush my cheek in the most delicious of ways.

  Oh God. What have I done?!

  A tsunami of guilt floods in.

  “No. We shouldn’t have done that.” I try to wiggle out of his arms, and unhook my ankles to get down, but he doesn’t let me go. I slap his chest in frustration. “Put me down, Ryker. We shouldn’t do this. You’re married, and the biggest fucking asshole on the planet!”

  Bracketing me with one arm to keep me from falling, he slips his other hand between our bodies, into the top of my leggings and panties, where he glides two fingers inside my pussy. It happens so fast that I jolt in his arms as
my eyes blow wide. Goosebumps flare over every square inch of my body.

  I … I can’t believe...

  Oh yes…

  Stilling, he presses a gentle kiss to my lips, and it takes everything within me not to kiss him back. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me?!

  I bite his bottom lip instead. It’s not meant for foreplay. It’s in warning. “Take your fingers out of my pussy!” I roar.

  “Why?” He toys with my g-spot, and it takes every ounce of energy not to moan. Cocky fucking dickhead!

  “Because I hate you! You lied to me repeatedly, and I don’t want you touching me!”

  “You’re wet for me, baby. I know you might hate me, but your body doesn’t.” He's not funny. He’s serious. The gleam in his eye tells me he hates how I feel about him, but that he relishes in the fact that my body is a slave to his. I hate that about myself. It makes me feel like a cheap whore.

  Powerless to stop, I slap him clear across the face. It’s cruel as it echoes in the small room, and dispels a fraction of my self-loathing. Why do I always let him in? Why do I like it when he touches me? I … god … I hate it. All of it. I shouldn’t want him like I do. I shouldn’t be thinking about how his dick would feel ten times better in place of his fingers. I shouldn’t be getting wetter at the prospect. This is so disgusting. I’m sick and depraved. I need help.

  “Hit me again,” he urges, and I glare, lips pursed.

  “What the hell? Why would you want me to slap you again?”

  “Because it’ll make you feel better.” He’s as calm as can be aside from his labored breathing, which I’m sure has nothing to do with anger and everything to do with how hard his dick is. Dipping his head, he offers his bottom lip to me. “Bite me. Take out your anger. Make me pay for what I did to you. Use me. I don’t fucking care, my little Tiger. Just make yourself feel better.” Sincerity steeps his words and obliterates every ounce of my restraint.

  One second, I’m seething, and the next, I’m biting his lip and sucking it into my mouth as he groans his approval. Carefully setting me on my feet, he pulls away just long enough to tear my leggings and panties down my legs in one fell swoop. I don’t know what possess me, but I hold onto his shoulders and step out of them without hesitation. As reward, he presses a chaste kiss to my lips, then lays down on the tiled floor, knees bent. Unzipping his pants, he extracts the most beautiful monster cock from its denim prison. Springing into the air, a dribble of pre-cum rolls down his bulbous cockhead, onto his shaft.