Red Eyes MC: Books 1 - 3

by Grey, Blair

  “Then don’t,” I said softly, sinking back down into the chair and taking his hand in both of mine. “I didn’t go through with the artificial insemination, though. I couldn’t. Because I was already pregnant.”

  Marcus stared at me for a long moment and then drew in a sharp breath. “Mine?” he asked almost inaudibly.

  I nodded. “Yours,” I said seriously.

  Marcus lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling again. But he didn’t seem angry. Instead, he seemed quietly thoughtful. Like he was already planning.

  “We’ll leave Las Cruces,” he said. “We’ll start a new life. You, me, and our child.”

  “What about Red Eyes?” I asked, just to make sure we were on the same page.

  Marcus shook his head, his eyes falling shut. “This is my out,” he said. “I told Ray I would do him one last favor. Do everything I could to get rid of the Unknowns. And then I was out.”

  “Is that really what you want?” I asked. When he looked curiously over at me, I shrugged. “My dad quit the MC life for a while. Until it all got to be too much. Then he went back. Just about killed my mother.”

  “I’m not like that,” Marcus insisted. “I’ve got my degrees. I’ve got my other work. And I’ve been thinking about getting out for a while now. The only thing stopping me was that the guys were my only family.” His hand squeezed mine briefly. “But you’re my family now.”

  I smiled down at him, fully believing his words. “You should get some rest,” I told him. “We have a lot of planning to do.”

  “Not so much,” Marcus said, closing his eyes. “I already know exactly where I want to take you.”

  37

  Marcus

  One month later

  Saturday

  I woke up in stages, first becoming aware of the scent of soft flesh against my nose, of the hair strewn across the pillow, of the soft breaths exhaled against my side. I smiled to myself and opened my eyes. Leila.

  I’d woken up with her nearly every day since I had gotten out of the hospital, which was almost three weeks ago now. A month since my run-in with the Unknowns, a month since I had formally left Red Eyes.

  I didn’t regret any of it. How could I, with this beautiful angel sleeping here next to me? And we never would have gotten here otherwise.

  The guys teased me about it of course. But I could tell they were just glad to see me happy. I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I was truly happy. With everything with the Unknowns, and even before that if I was being honest, I had been so angry. Cameron had hit the nail on the head when he said I seemed a lot less tense now.

  I was a lot less tense now. I was happy.

  I thought about getting breakfast ready, but I decided that this once, I would rather lay here in bed, take all the cuddles that I could get. It was nice, this domestic bliss. We weren’t going to be here, in this house that I had lived in for half of forever, for much longer, and I wanted to savor it. Even though I was excited for the adventures ahead, there was something about this that I was going to miss, too.

  Leila stirred against me. “Penny for your thoughts,” she said around a yawn, pushing her long, dark hair back off from her face.

  I laughed and shook my head. “It’s too early in the morning to be thinking anything,” I told her.

  “Not so for you,” Leila said, grinning at me as she rolled away. “You’re always thinking, from the moment you wake up until the moment your head touches the pillow. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” She stretched catlike against the sheets and then turned back into my side, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the muscles of my chest and making something stir within me.

  Making something stir without me, too. My morning wood was needy and insistent, as it was most mornings, but I ignored it for now. We had spent the first few days that I was home having sex in nearly every room in the house, until we were both raw and needed to rest up and recover. I tried to take it easy now. Save it for when I was really riled up.

  Which, knowing us, would be in just a little while. But I wanted to savor the sweetness of this morning for a little while first. I didn’t want to just roll on top of her and have my way with her. Not this time.

  “Come on, what are you thinking about?” Leila pressed. “You look so serious.”

  I laughed and rolled on top of her anyway, pinning her down against the bed. This time, I put my head on her chest, peering innocently up at her. “I was just thinking about us,” I told her truthfully.

  “In the shower?” she asked.

  I groaned as she slipped a leg between mine. “Maybe,” I said. Then, I shrugged. “No, I was thinking about the house. Our new place.”

  We had gone up to Portland together a week ago, and after a few days of searching, we had found the perfect place. It was a little small, but perfect for a young family like us. And in a good location, too. Good schools in the area, and close to a hospital, which Leila had already netted herself a job at through some old contacts.

  Not that she would be starting work up there too soon. She was thinking about staying home with our daughter until she was two years old.

  Not that we knew it was a daughter yet. We wouldn’t find that out for a little while longer, but I was hoping for a daughter. Girls might be complicated, but they were a lot simpler than boys.

  “What about our new place?” Leila asked, and I could tell that she was thinking about it, too.

  “We could get a dog,” I suggested. “We have the yard space. And I was thinking that we could put a swing up on the front porch, too.” There were so many options. Whatever we ended up doing, one thing was for sure: I wanted it to be completely different than what we had here. I wanted it to be our place, not just my place or her place. A place where we could raise our baby. Together.

  “I’d like that,” Leila said. “You know, I was thinking last night about those paint chips we were looking at. Do you think we could paint our kitchen yellow? I’ve always wanted a yellow kitchen. I thought it would be cozy.”

  “I like that,” I told her, kissing her on the top of the head. “And whatever leftover paint we had, we could use it on the trim in the baby’s room. Paint it blue or something, with yellow accents.”

  “That sounds nice,” Leila said, her voice dreamy.

  “I never thought I’d be doing this,” I finally admitted. The real crux of my thoughts over the past few weeks.

  Leila looked worriedly up at me. “Are you starting to have regrets?” she asked.

  “No, of course not!” I said immediately. “I like this. Planning all of it. I just never thought I’d be leaving everything, giving everything up. All so that I could have a family. But this is so much better than I could ever have expected for myself.”

  Leila hummed, staring off at the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on her own face. “I never would have thought you would agree to this, either,” she finally admitted. “When I first met you, I was sure that you were just some dumb biker dude. I didn’t know you were in Red Eyes, but I think I kind of suspected it. Only the more I got to know you, the easier it was to convince myself that you must not be. That I must have been mistaken. That’s why finding out that you really were in an MC just killed me.”

  “I should have told you,” I sighed. “I knew I should have. I just didn’t want you to look at me differently. I didn’t want you to refuse to have anything to do with me.”

  We were both quiet for a moment, thinking about it.

  Things had been incredible between us over the past few weeks. We had grown impossibly close, until I really couldn’t imagine what I would do if things didn’t work out between us. I had introduced her around to the guys from Red Eyes; we had all had dinner together once, and then she and Ray and Will and Belle had had a couple of cookouts as well. She was surprisingly accepting of that part of my life, and I appreciated that.

  I’d gone with her over to Rachel’s place for dinner, too. I could tell there was a part of Rachel that hated me fo
r taking her best friend away from her, even though she had to realize that Leila had to get out of Las Cruces. She had promised to visit us up in Portland, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she would move up there, herself, before long.

  We’d see, though.

  Portland was the total opposite of Las Cruces climate-wise, and it was going to take us both some getting used to. Leila was excited about it, though. She had already ordered a couple of cute sweaters and a pair of boots. I knew there would be an adjustment period for both of us, but I was so excited to start this adventure with her.

  And in less than a year, we’d have a little one as well.

  “Savannah for a girl, or Christopher for a boy,” I said.

  Leila laughed and pushed at my shoulder. “You know how I feel about names that are longer than two syllables,” she said. “Then they’re going to need nicknames, and we’re not going to get to choose what they are. Or we will, up until the kid goes to school and everyone else starts calling them something different. Katies become Kates. Kids named Chris become Tophers.”

  I laughed. “That’s not a real thing,” I said, shaking my head.

  “It is so,” Leila said. “I went to school with a kid named Topher. Total stoner, too. We’re not naming our kid Christopher.”

  She rolled out of bed. “I’m getting in the shower,” she announced. She paused. “You’re welcome to join me, though. Unless you’re going to keep suggesting dreadful names.”

  I laughed and followed her into the bathroom and into the shower. “Hey, I love you,” I said as we stood there beneath the spray.

  “I know,” she said softly. “I love you, too.”

  It was the first time that she had said it back to me. Not that I’d been too liberal with telling her that I loved her, either. She had heard me say it first to Ray when I was in the hospital, and the next time I had tried to say it, directly to her face, she had laughed it off as a byproduct of the meds I was on. But I could see in her eyes that she believed me.

  She had to, I supposed. We were moving across the country together, and that wasn’t something you did with just anyone.

  I felt a warm flush go through me. I love you.

  Maybe this thing between us wasn’t so doomed after all. Maybe, in spite of everything, we just might manage to raise a kid. A kid who didn’t end up going down the same path that I did.

  I bent down and kissed Leila, the promise of the future swirling around us. Yellow kitchens and porch swings, a dog and a baby and us. Maybe it would all work out.

  It wasn’t long before I couldn’t think anymore, though. The kiss turned scorching hot as I backed her up against the wall beneath the spray. She wrapped a hand around my length, her movements eased by the water.

  “I love you,” I repeated, and she smiled.

  38

  Leila

  Saturday

  It felt liberating to finally tell Marcus that I loved him. To be honest, it still felt like things were moving too quickly between us. Like I was going to wake up one morning and find out that it had all been some strange dream. I didn’t know why I was so convinced that this couldn’t be real. After all, I had heard him, there in the hospital, telling Ray that he had told my father, of all people, that he loved me.

  Jesus, I could just imagine the look on Dad’s face. He wouldn’t have been happy.

  I knew that I could go into the police office if I wanted to, to go in and see the man. He was my father, after all. But I hadn’t gone. I had nothing to say to him. I hardly knew him. He was a stranger to me at this point. And I didn’t particularly care what happened to him.

  In the back of my head, I was worried that I had just made a serious enemy. That one day, he might get out of jail and come after me. But he wouldn’t know that the police had called me and told me about him. And he had never been part of my life; why should I go see him?

  From the sounds of it, he was going to be locked up for a very long time, anyway. Possibly for life, if they could find enough evidence linking him as an accomplice to a string of murders that had happened in Texas a few years back. MC business, from the sounds of it. But I didn’t really want to know any more than I had to.

  I wanted to focus on this. The future. My life with Marcus. When he had taken me up to Portland on the back of his bike, I’d been skeptical. Why Portland? I’d asked him. He hadn’t been able to give me a solid answer. But when we got there, I understood, somehow. The place just fit. It was comfortable. It felt like it could be home.

  For all that, it was entirely the opposite of Las Cruces. Still, if we were going to start a new life together, why go to a place that was like the one we were from? Why not strike out for somewhere totally new?

  All of my excitement and enthusiasm, though, was tempered by logical reasoning. Just ask Rachel: I had been to her house so many times while Marcus was still in the hospital. I’d been trying to rationalize all of it. He wasn’t perfect for me, and he wasn’t the kind of guy that I ever would have chosen for myself. And what if he regretted this? What if one day he decided that he’d rather be back with the MC and he just left our child and me? I didn’t want to end up like my mother.

  “But you won’t,” Rachel pointed out. “You could never end up like your mother. You’re stronger than she ever was. If Marcus left you, you’d find a way. And I’d be right there by your side.” She paused. “Or maybe not, since the two of you are talking about moving. Do you really have to go?”

  I laughed. “You know we do,” I told her. But I looked sadly toward the living room, where Gavin was playing with his trains. It was going to hurt to leave them behind. They were the closest thing I had ever had to family. And now that I was pregnant, I just wanted to keep my best friend close.

  But I knew we were doing the right thing.

  I still felt that way. We were doing the right thing. Our relationship might be moving fast, but I had never felt surer about anything in my whole life.

  “Stop thinking so hard,” Marcus said, moving his lips along my jaw.

  I groaned and tilted my head back to give him better access. As his fingers slid down my sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake, I really couldn’t keep thinking anymore. Just doing. Just feeling.

  I love you. I love you, love you, love you.

  He pulled back and grinned at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking. Like he was just as jubilant as I was. His lips claimed mine in a fiery kiss, his tongue sliding tenderly alongside mine in my mouth. He explored all the soft skin, expertly finding the spots that would make me moan and press my body into his. Things might be moving fast, but we already knew one another so well. Innately. Like we had never had to think about it.

  He pushed one slippery leg in between mine, and I pushed down against it, turning my head to the side with a gasp as my clit slid along his hot skin. He copied the motion with his fingertips, playing with my nub, and I buried my head in the crook of his neck, unable to stop myself from biting a gentle mark into his skin. He was mine.

  I love you, love you, love you. I couldn’t keep from chanting it, over and over again, in my mind.

  He twisted his arms around me, holding my body tight against his, his breathing warm against my temple as he played his fingertips across my slick skin. I wondered how he would take me this time: if he would hoist me up into his arms and push me down slowly onto his length, or if he would turn me around and take me from behind as I bent to grasp my ankles.

  He opted for the former, staring deep into my eyes as he lifted one of my legs. He speared me easily on his length despite the different angle. His burning cock pushed deep into my body, and I gasped, all the air pushed out of my lungs. He smiled gently at me, and even something that simple, combined with the movements of his hands against that bundle of nerves between my legs, was enough to make me come undone already.

  I whimpered, my eyes falling shut as my head fell back. The water cascaded over me as I hung suspended in perpetual bliss. He was still buried, unmoving, inside
of me, as my walls squeezed tight around him and then released. I clung to him, barely able to keep myself upright, but he held me easily, letting me recover, his fingers soothing anchors against my hips.

  Finally, I managed to open my eyes. He was still staring at me, seemingly shocked at how easily I had spilled over into bliss. I wanted to blush, but I didn’t feel embarrassed. He knew me by now. He knew exactly what to do to me. He knew that I came easiest in the mornings and that I came easiest with his fingers on my clit. This wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about.

  He loved me. And we were building a future together.

  I smiled shyly up at him, and he leaned in for a tender kiss. Slowly, he started to move his hips. He was impossibly gentle with me. We had never made love like this before. Not that all of the sex we’d had in the past few weeks had been straight fucking, either. I would catch these little moments where he would just look at me in a certain way. Or he would slow it down, drag it out, really tease me, and I could tell we were both thinking the same thing:

  I love you, love you, love you.

  But it had never been quite like this before.

  He traced his fingers over my breasts, and I could see naked awe in his gaze like he was still stunned that he got to have me like this. And I, for my part, was no better. I could never seem to keep myself from trailing my fingers down his long, tattooed arms, across the marks on his chest. I leaned forward now, tracing one of the tattoos with my tongue, delighting in the way he shivered at the sensation.

  I wanted to do this again and again, forever. Or else I never wanted it to stop.