by Debra Kayn
The amount of stress she'd lived through, the loss of her friends, her heart overfull of love, she couldn't hold any of it in anymore. She cried out, swallowing down her sob at the knowledge of what Swiss had struggled through on his own. His family ostracizing him and turning their backs to the situation when he needed them most. His wife tearing his family apart. His little girl waving goodbye, never knowing that would be the last time she experienced Swiss's large hand holding hers and she'd never have his big chest to soften all of the big and little hurts life would throw at her.
She curled into a ball and cried for herself because her future teetered off-balance, and she only wanted someone to hold her and tell her everything would be okay.
Chapter Thirty Five
Heavy Metal music blared inside the clubhouse. Swiss leaned against the wall and held Gia in front of him, his arm hooked around her waist while holding a whiskey bottle in his free hand. He'd only drank half the bottle but damn was it a long time coming.
Once he had Gia safe, he'd put in an uneventful five-day work week. He'd almost wished for something to happen and distract him from what he'd put off all week.
But, he'd survived.
It was Saturday night.
He had his buzz on, his woman in his arms, and his club around him.
He fucking deserved to drink.
Gia shifted and gazed over her shoulder at him, smiled, and said, "Thanks for paying for the moving company to box up my things and bring them to Haugan."
She'd already thanked him twice. He gave her no choice. Either she let him take her back to Seattle to gather her belongings, or he'd pay someone else to bring them to her. No fucking way was he letting her travel alone in her piece of shit car or leave his side.
He held the bottle up to her mouth. "Drink up."
She laughed and his balls tightened. In the last week, she'd loosened up. Smiled more. Laughed more. And, challenged him in ways he could appreciate.
Her eyes lit up in amusement. "Doesn't Ronacks believe in mixing their drinks?"
"That's weak, sweet." He placed the mouth of the bottle against her lower lip, teasing her.
Instead of taking the bottle from him, she dipped her knees, opened her mouth, and let him pour a shot of whiskey over her tongue. Her eyes rounded as the liquid hit the back of her throat. His cock hardened. She swallowed, and damned if he wanted to toss the bottle and take Gia home.
He captured her mouth, dipping his tongue. Drunk on her, he walked her backward without stopping the kiss. His hard-on leading the way.
Gia wound her arms around his neck, bumping her breasts against him with each clumsy step. He pulled his mouth off her, took another drink, and walked her down the hallway.
She slipped her fingers under his belt and held on. "Where are you taking me?"
"The room in the back. Gonna fuck you hard. Then, you're gonna fuck me slow." He licked his lips and aimed for her mouth.
Her feet found ground, and she pushed against him. "No way."
He stopped. "Huh?"
"Swiss, honey. Baby." She shook her head. "Whew. You can't really expect me to go there."
"You want me." He cupped her ass, pulling her to the front of him and showing her proof he wanted her, too.
"I do." Her laughter fell away, and her eyes sobered up. "When I first came to the clubhouse, a woman mentioned the backroom. What happens in the backroom, and while I respect all the Ronacks members, I'm not going to lay on a bed that has seen more traffic than Main Street in Haugan."
"Picky?"
She laughed loudly. "Oh, yeah."
He chuckled. "I'll take you home."
"Good idea." She patted his chest. "Except, I'm driving."
He'd brought the Mercedes with that plan in mind. He lifted the bottle, guzzled, and looped his arm around his woman's shoulders. "Take me home, sweet."
He walked her into the main room of the clubhouse and Raelyn stopped their exit. Swiss thrust the bottle forward. "Drink up, Rae. Everyone's celebrating."
"Hey there, yourself." Raelyn took the bottle, smirked at Swiss, and then turned her attention on Gia. "I heard the awesome news. You're staying with Swiss."
"Thanks." Gia curled against Swiss's side and put her hand on his stomach. "I couldn't be happier."
"Well, bottle that joy, girlfriend, because I've got a proposition for you." Raelyn put her hands on her hips and grinned. "Come to work at Pine Bar and Grill. Swiss can explain the Ronacks roster to you and the wage tier they use. You'll be employed by the club, but working for me. The tips you earn will be yours to keep."
"Raelyn, that's awfully nice of you to offer, but I've never worked at a bar or around drinks and food." Gia lowered her voice. "I'd fail, big time. But, I appreciate you asking. That means so—"
"No, no, no..." Raelyn shook her head. "Unless you're an idiot, you'll learn how to carry drinks and set a plate in front of a customer. You're gorgeous and a clean freak, and that's all you need to succeed at the bar. If you like it, stay on. If not, you can go get a different job. No worries."
During the conversation, Swiss remained quiet and yet he knew Gia worried about money and finding a job in Haugan. Though he hated the thought of other men appreciating what he had at home, Gia could do anything she put her heart into and then some.
"Try it out. I work in town and can take my lunch at the bar." Swiss kissed the top of Gia's head. "Now, tell Raelyn yes, and let's go home."
"So, is that a yes?" Raelyn tilted her head and grinned.
Gia reached out with one arm and hugged Raelyn. "When do you want me?"
"Monday. I'll start you off slowly." Raelyn bounced on her toes. "This will be great. We're losing a couple of girls next month who are going off to college. I needed you."
"Okay, the deal's done. Let's go home." Swiss pulled Gia to the side.
Raelyn slapped Swiss's arm. "What's your hurry?"
Swiss opened his mouth. "I want to F—"
Gia dragged him away from the conversation on a laugh and pulled him outside. She stopped him at the sight of Mel kneeled down beside his mangled motorcycle. He studied the kid, intent on straightening the forks.
"I feel so bad for him. If it weren't for me, he'd still have a bike to ride," whispered Gia.
Swiss let go of Gia and walked over to Mel. Compared to last week, the bike looked better, but it was a long way from becoming rideable again.
Mel caught sight of him and lifted his chin. Swiss lit a cigarette and strolled around the Harley. An older model that the kid had taken care of before the hit and run.
"Where'd you get the bike?" asked Swiss.
"Uh..." Mel stood, wiped his hands on his jeans, and then hooked his thumbs in his pockets. "It was my dad's motorcycle."
"Is he around?"
Mel looked Swiss in the eyes. "He died when I was fourteen. My mom got remarried a couple of years later to an asshole who sold all my dad's stuff and moved my mom to California. I took the bike before he could get his hands on it and rode back to Haugan."
Fuck. Swiss whistled. Mel had been a sixteen-year-old kid bent on keeping his dad's memory alive and set out on his own. He'd paid his time prospecting for Ronacks, and ended up coming out half-way decent.
"Have LeWorth load the Harley up in the trailer and bring it to my place tomorrow night. And, make sure you bring that set of balls it took to keep your dad alive in here." He tapped his head with his finger. "You'd do him proud becoming a lifer."
Mel lifted his chin. "Yes, sir."
Swiss turned around and mumbled, "Knock that sir shit off, kid."
"I will." Mel's voice grew deeper behind him. "Swiss."
Swiss joined Gia at the Mercedes and handed her the keys. She smiled crazily up at him without saying a word, and he hooked his finger at the top of her shirt and pulled her forward. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You're an amazing person." She kissed him, humming in anticipation, and then broke away from him. "Hurry and get in the car. We're goin
g home."
Finally.
He rounded the car and slid into the passenger seat. He hoped like hell she could drive fast.
Chapter Thirty Six
Swiss's cock, hard and waiting, stood up for Gia. She trailed her finger over the warm, smooth length, wrapping her fingers around the thickness. Swiss sucked in his breath. She lifted her gaze at the sound without letting go of him.
"What you did back at the clubhouse for Mel was a good thing, honey," she whispered.
His intense gaze was his answer. "A condom is a good thing."
"I'm serious." She let go of him, retrieved protection off the top of the dresser, and handed it to him.
"I'm serious, too." He opened the foil package.
She took off her Tee. "I overheard Mel talking about what happened with his dad and taking off to come back to Haugan. He was so young, and he's grown up a lot since his dad died. I mean, he's what...twenty-four or twenty-five years old now. He practically raised himself during the years his dad would've taught him how to be a man if he was alive."
"Sweet, I'm not feeling like talking about Mel. You feel like talking, let's talk about fucking." He ogled her breasts overflowing her bra as she leaned forward to remove her jeans.
"Okay, okay," she said, removing her bra and panties. "But, one more thing. Mel looks up to you."
"He what?" he mumbled.
"He respects you and listens." She nodded. "I know I don't have a say in what Ronacks does as a club, and I'm an outsider, but I think you should seriously think about letting Mel wear a Ronacks patch."
"You do, huh?" he said, rolling on the condom.
She moved closer and placed her hands on his chest. "Yeah, I like him."
He lowered his head and kissed her lips softly. "You're right. You have no say in club business, but I hear you, and since I'm done listening to you, it's time to fuck."
Her stomach fluttered, and she walked with him to the bed.
He stretched out to his full height beside her and laid his hand on her bare hip. "Gia?"
"Yes?"
"Never stop talking to me," he said.
She gazed into his eyes, melting. Because Swiss, despite his gruff ways, his often one track mind, he actually listened to every word she said. He might not always agree but he took everything into consideration, and she trusted him to know what was best for both of them.
He lowered his mouth, wrapping his arms around her and rolling to his back. She straddled his hips while caressing his tongue with hers. His hardness settled between her legs. She couldn't move because he was giving her the control.
She pressed her hips toward him. His cock slid between her legs. Warmth flooded her sex. Pleasure came with each thrust of her pelvis, and she continued rocking.
Swiss held her hips, moving her against him. She lowered her head. The closer she got to his body, the more she wanted.
"Damn sexy, sweet, sitting on me, looking at me, feeling me." He brushed his mouth below her ear.
Her spine tingled at the touch of his breath against her neck. Then his tongue was on her skin. She threw her head back giving him more access. He licked in languid swipes against the sensitive spot, sending wave after wave of pleasure to her core. Her legs and arms trembled. She pressed herself against his hardness.
He lifted her up. She arched, lining up his cock and plunged down on him at the same time he thrust his hips off the bed. A moan of happiness bubbled out of her. His vulnerable position allowed her to take every exciting inch of him, and she braced herself against his chest as she adjusted to having him inside of her.
"Tight, sweet," he whispered.
She sighed. "Mm-hm."
His hands spanned her hips, lifting her. She sprawled her fingers on his chest and rose, and then let herself ease down on him. Her eyelids fought to close and yet, she wanted to watch him. To see the moment he came.
"Lean down," he said.
She moved her hands to the bed, one on each side of his head. He lifted his mouth, his tongue swiping her hard nipple. Her hips rose and fell on their own, taking up a natural rhythm and going with what felt good for her. He sucked on her breast. Her sex spasmed, and her body tightened.
His ass came off the bed, meeting her moves. She rocked back and forth. The wild sensations swirled in her body, and she moved, catering to the deep pulse inside of her screaming for more.
Swiss removed his mouth from her nipple and flipped her over onto her back. She stared up into his face, gasping in shock at finding herself underneath him.
His rough, possessive dominance of needing to be the one in control turned her on. He gave her permission to take. And, take.
In long, complete strokes, he let her feel his weight, his size, his love. She clutched his shoulders, meeting each of his plunges. His eyes took on the squint she'd come to love and his gaze burned into hers as his lips parted and he groaned going faster.
He pressed, circled, rubbed, and teased with his lower body between her legs. She reached out and held onto the blanket for stability to match him thrust for thrust. Her back arched with the ever tightening sensations in her body. God, he was unbelievable.
Spiraled tighter, hotter, and higher, she desperately reached for him. Her fingers dug into his biceps. The solidly muscled arms grounded her to the moment. She panted, unable to beg and plead for him to take her to climax.
"Yeah, Gia. Don't stop," he said.
She couldn't stop if she wanted. Linking her ankles together around him, she stayed with him as he rode her. Each brush of his body against the aroused flesh of her sex caressed her until she burned in the most mind-blowing way. "Swiss...?"
In a rush of pleasure, her body froze on a final high. Every muscle constricted, winding tight and suspending her. She held her breath, straining with a pent-up scream. Seconds ticked by, locked in ecstasy.
Swiss's harsh breath came heavier and more rapid as he sunk into her bowed body and held himself still. Only when he trembled inside of her had her body unwound in a propelling display of pleasurable jolts.
"That's what I'm talking about...," he mumbled as his climax rocked his body.
She held on, absorbing his reaction, savoring her pleasure, and stunned speechless.
Every single time with Swiss left her in awe. That one man, this man, could bring out such a perfect array of emotions spanning so many areas in her life.
It was incredible.
He was incredible.
They were incredible together.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Swiss stepped out of the bedroom in the middle of the night carrying his jeans and his phone. Gia slept in the bed, out cold after having sex. His earlier liquored buzz gone, he couldn't put off the phone call he wanted to make any longer.
Good or bad, he needed to hear Heather's voice. At the very least, if she refused to talk with him, he needed to thank her for sending Gia to him. He held out hope that she'd sent Gia to him, because somewhere in her heart, his daughter still believed in him.
He stepped into his jeans and sat on the couch. His body trembled from fear. He was scared shitless. It was irrational to believe Heather even remembered him.
At four years old, his daughter still forgot to put her shoes on and half-hour cartoons were a challenge for her to stay seated long enough to finish the show.
He'd let his daughter go without a fight, believing his hands were tied. The Army had mentally beat him, forcing him to sign away his responsibilities, and he'd said 'Yes, sir. I'll sign now, sir.' to ease the pain.
Pain that killed him.
He took the piece of paper he'd jotted Heather's phone number down on out of his pocket, spread it on the coffee table, and tapped out the numbers on the screen. He hovered his thumb over the send button.
His chest constricted, and he grimaced. He was going to have a fucking heart attack.
He pushed the button and put the phone to his ear before he changed his mind. His pulse roared in his head.
"Hello?" said
a female in a groggy voice.
He stood up, sat down, and cleared his throat. "Heather?"
Her silence broke him out in a sweat.
"Who is this?" she asked quietly.
"It's...Swiss." His chest tightened more, realizing she would only know him by his real name. "Greg. Greg Jones. Your dad."
He held his breath. She never acknowledged whether she remembered or her mom mentioned his name. He exhaled knowing he put her in an impossible situation calling in the middle of the night, out of the blue, with no warning.
"I..." He clenched his teeth, fucking the whole conversation up. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. Shit happened, and I lost you."
She hadn't hung up, and he kept going.
"You probably don't believe this, but not an hour goes by that I don't miss you and wonder how you're doing and what kind of woman you turned out to be." He stood, unable to sit still. "I've got a, uh, picture of you here. You were four years old. It's hard to imagine what you look like now, all grown up. I remember how you used to run out the door when you knew I was coming home and you'd—" He sniffed, needing to validate his relationship to her. "You'd hold your hands up and beg me to carry you on my shoulders into the duplex. And, at night, you liked two stuffed animals tucked in beside you in bed. You called them Rufus and —"
"Ringles," she finished for him.
"Yeah." Hope surged through him. "Ringles."
He swallowed. "How are you doing? Are you happy?"
"I'm good. After mom died—"
"Anita's dead?" He looked at the floor, feeling nothing but surprise over the news.
"She remarried after Brad passed away to a man who treated her badly. He was physically abusive, and she hid it from me and everyone who knew her. I was away at college and had no idea what she was going through until I was notified by the hospital that she'd been beaten and died on the way to the hospital." Heather paused. "It was because of her that I'm working at the woman's shelter helping other women out of unsafe situations."