Retaliation: A Twisted Mayhem MC Novel

by Cat Mason

  Jensen’s mouth twitches up in amusement at my comment. “Everyone has their secrets, Roanne,” he replies, his anger dissipating. “Trust me, your dad was no exception.”

  “I’m not sure anything could shock me as much as finding out about Olivia,” I blurt, letting my head fall back against the wall. Exhaling harshly, I close my eyes. “I saw the photo of them on the piano. He was so happy. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen him smile like that?” I ask, emotion clawing at my throat. “Because I sure as hell don’t. The last thing I did was fight with him, Jensen. All I seemed to do lately was disappoint him. It hurts finding out he’s had this whole double life all these years,” I breathe, tears burning my eyes. “It’s like Mom and I weren’t enough for him.”

  “Ro.” His thumb brushes over my cheek, catching a stray tear. My eyes open, meeting his. “You could never be a disappointment.”

  I start to argue, but Jensen’s kiss steals my words. Though my mind screams at me to stop this, I don’t. Our tongues tangle with one another as his hand slides down my side, the tips of his fingers finding the skin beneath the hem of my t-shirt. My body reacts to his touch, arching into him for more. “You lost,” he whispers against my lips.

  “Huh?” I ask, completely confused.

  Running his fingers up my spine, he smirks. “You bet me that you’d get more out of Olivia than I could and you wouldn’t even have to raise your voice.” His fingers move higher as he leans in and brushes his nose along mine. “What’s my prize?”

  Swallowing hard, I lick my lips. My heart fluttering like a hummingbird as I attempt to catch my breath. “What do you want?”

  His tongue peeks out, wetting his bottom lip. “You.” The smile that spreads across his face is sinister, so laced with wicked intent and sex oozing confidence, that it makes my knees weak. “And.” Leaning in, he nips my bottom lip with his teeth. “As soon as your head stops coming up with a million ideas why we shouldn’t, you’ll admit that you want me too. That you always have.” Releasing his hold on me, he leans over and slaps the button for the elevator. “Let’s head back.”

  Chapter Ten

  Roanne

  The moment we get back to the clubhouse, Jensen is called away by Colt. Draping his arm around my shoulders, Schrader leads me into the kitchen where Shy stands at the sink, washing vegetables. “What’s cookin’, Shy?” he asks, releasing me and making his way over to her. Grabbing a piece of sliced mushroom from the pile on the counter, he tosses it into his mouth and flashes her a smile.

  “Schrader stew if you don’t stop groping the food with those dirty mitts of yours,” she scolds, slapping his arm. “God only knows where your fingers have been.”

  “What I do with my fingers may take a woman to Heaven, babe, but it’s best to leave God out of it,” he chuckles, swiping another bite. Winking at her, his smile widens. “Hearin’ a chick scream my name until she passes out would only make him jealous.”

  “Ugh!” she groans, shoving him away. Looking at me, she shakes her head. “Do you see what I have to put up with around here?”

  “I love you, too, Honeybun,” he teases. Shy’s eyes fly up to meet his, widening. Opening the cabinet, he yanks out a bag of potato chips. “Now, are we eatin’ today?” he asks, ripping open the bag and shoveling a handful of chips into his mouth. “Or you plannin’ on makin’ us wait ‘til hell freezes over?”

  “Get the hell outta here, asshole.” Grabbing a wooden spoon from the dish drainer, she slaps him in the hip. “Or you’ll be livin’ on ketchup packets and stale beer.”

  Mumbling something about kitchen brutality being illegal, Schrader storms out of the room and leaves us alone. Shaking her head, Shy turns back to the counter. Grabbing a knife, she adjusts her cutting board and begins slicing into a tomato.

  “Need some help?” I ask, feeling pretty useless standing here doing nothing.

  Blowing out a breath, she turns and meets my eyes. “Are you kidding?” she asks, dropping her knife. Sliding a produce bag filled with green bell peppers my way, she smiles. “I’d love some. Feeding this army of beasts takes a lot of chopping.”

  “You cook for them all?” I ask, switching on the sink and grabbing the soap to wash up.

  “Breakfast and dinner. Every day. But I have rules. They serve themselves and I don’t clean up after,” she says with a wink. “I leave that to the club hooch that hang around. They don’t help out, they don’t eat.” Raking up the now finely diced pieces of tomato, she tosses them into a bowl. “So, you grew up with Stone, huh?” she asks, grabbing another tomato. “What was that like?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrug, drying my hands on a dish towel. “Fine, I guess.”

  “Fine,” she laughs, snorting softly. “I bet he was. Seriously, you’ve gotta give me more than that.”

  “He was sweet as a kid,” I mutter, getting to work on the peppers. “The older he got, the more of an annoying, protective pain in my ass he became. His mood swings made me crazy. I see those haven’t changed,” I huff, shaking my head. “Then…” my words drift off as the unpleasant memories start to become less blurry.

  “Then?” Shy asks, stopping what she is doing and glancing my way.

  “Then nothing,” I shrug. “He left.”

  “Oh,” she replies, the feel of the room changing. “I guess it’s like a blast from the past being back together, huh?”

  “We were never together, Shy” I blurt immediately, wishing she would change the subject.

  “Hmm.” Tilting her head, she arches a brow and studies me carefully. “That wasn’t what I meant, but now that you ask…”

  Dropping my knife, I arch a brow right back at her. “I’m really starting to think your nickname is a little misleading.”

  Nodding her head, she laughs. “I get that a lot.” Removing a large skillet from a hook on the wall, she turns on the stove top and places it on the heat. Grabbing a bottle of olive oil, she pours some into a skillet and begins to toss in sliced onions, mushrooms, and the peppers I have sliced. “Now, answer the question.”

  “Ro.” The sound of Jensen’s voice causes my entire body to jolt. Whipping around, my eyes land on him standing in the doorway. “Need a minute.”

  “I’m helping Shy get dinner ready,” I inform him. Turning, I grab for the knife, only to drop it again when his body presses into my back. “Next time, you should try sayin’ please.”

  “Now,” he says, his lips dangerously close to my ear. “Please.”

  “Fine,” I breathe, bracing my hands on the counter. “But only because you said please.” Blowing out a breath, I shoot Shy an apologetic look.

  “Go ahead,” she says, waving me off. “I’ve got this handled.”

  Without saying another word, Jensen tugs me into his side and leads me out of the kitchen. “What’s going on?” I ask as we head for the stairs. Instead of answering my question, he quickens his pace. His long legs maneuver the hall so quickly that it is hard for me to keep up with his stride. Flinging open the door to his room, he quickly gets us inside and closes the door. “Okay, you’ve got me alone.” Stepping free of his grasp, I whip around to face him. “Talk.”

  “It’s time we get some shit straight between you and me.” Reaching behind him, he flips the lock on the door and takes a step toward me. “Once and for all.”

  “Oh yeah?” I ask, frustrated with him. “What makes you think I give a shit about anything you have to say?”

  “Because you need to hear it. Because I hurt you. I should’ve laid this shit out a long time ago.” His eyes soften. “I never left you, Ro. I just couldn’t stay.”

  “That’s it? That’s the excuse I’ve waited years for from the asshole who broke my fucking heart?” I laugh, shaking my head. “Do you hear yourself right now?” I shout, throwing up my hands. “That makes no fucking sense!” Realization hits me. Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. “You were eavesdropping on my conversation with Shy?” I ask, taking a step back.

 
He nods. Stepping closer, he grabs my arms and hauls me into his body. “I never left you,” he says again, his lips only inches from mine.

  “You did!” I scream, shoving at his chest. “And I hate you for it.”

  “I’ve always been here, Roanne.” His hand cups my cheek. “Watching you.”

  “Don’t—”

  “Wanting you,” he interrupts, his eyes darkening as his thumb slowly traces my bottom lip.

  “Jensen,” I breathe, my heart skipping a beat.

  “Waiting,” he breathes, leaning closer.

  “For what?” I ask, the words coming out in a rush.

  “To take what’s mine,” he growls, slamming his mouth to mine.

  “I’m not sure,” I murmur against his lips, but instead of pushing him away, my hands go into his hair, needing him closer.

  “Don’t worry, Baby.” His hands go to my ass. Lifting me off my feet, he urges my legs around his waist. “The moment my mouth tastes your skin and my cock slides into your tight fuckin’ body,” he informs me, lying me back on the bed before taking a step back. “You will be.”

  “How are you so sure I won’t say no?” I ask, while he sheds his cut and shirt then throws them to the chair. Tugging my boots off my feet, he yanks my jeans down, the discarded denim falling to the floor behind him as he settles between my legs.

  “Because you’ve missed me as much as I’ve missed you. Because you’re tired of fighting this.” His hands slide up my thighs. Stopping at the edge of my panties, he smiles wickedly. His fingers slip beneath the black lace. “Or is that why you push back, Baby?” he asks, finding my clit. “You like fighting with me, don’t you?”

  “Ah!” I cry out, rocking my hips into his hand.

  “Mmm.” Fisting my hair with his other hand, he yanks my head back to expose my neck. “I knew you’d be ready for me.” Leaning in, Jensen nips at my throat playfully. Slipping two fingers inside me, he begins moving them in and out slowly. “I’m gonna sink balls deep into this greedy pussy and fuck the fight out of you.” His hand slides down to the back of my neck, his fingers tightening their grip.

  “What are you waiting for?” I bite out, challenging him. “Let’s see if your cock’s as big as your ego.”

  Removing his hand, he rips the black lace from my body. The intensity in his eyes has a moan escaping my lips. Jensen’s smile grows dark and wicked, causing my entire body to ache for release. Moving quickly, he removes my shirt and bra before standing from the bed again. Kicking out of his boots and pants, he grabs my legs and pulls me down the bed until my ass is right on the edge.

  “You on the pill?” he asks, grinding his cock into my ass. Moaning, I barely manage to nod my head. “Good.” Hooking my leg around his hip, he teases my clit with the head of his cock. “Nothin’ between me and what’s mine.”

  Jensen thrusts inside me, hard and fast, causing my eyes to roll back in my head. “Ah!” I cry out, sensation overrunning my body like a wave.

  “Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth, his body slamming into mine harder and harder each time. “Your tight little cunt is wrapped around me like a fist.” Sliding his hand up my body, he tugs at my nipple with his fingers. “You were made for my cock, Roanne. Tell me how good it feels.”

  “Fuck you,” I hiss. “I’ll stroke your cock, not your ego.” Wrapping my arms around him, I rock forward, meeting each thrust. His pelvis grinds into me, putting pressure on my clit, sending me barreling toward my climax.

  “You’ll do a fuck of a lot more than stroke it.” Angling my leg in the crook of his elbow, he opens me fully to him and slams into me so hard my teeth rattle. Digging my nails in, I claw at his back, needing to hurt him as much as I need the orgasm I feel overtaking me. “That’s it, baby,” he groans, sliding into me slowly. “Mark me.”

  “Harder,” I bite out, bucking against him, desperately needing more. I want to feel him between my legs long after he is done.

  Pulling out of me, he flips me onto my stomach. Grabbing my hips, he yanks me up onto my hands and knees. “Bend down and press your cheek to the mattress,” he commands, his hand coming down hard on my ass. “You want hard and fast, Duchess? You’re gonna fuckin’ get it.”

  “Is that all you’ve got?” I ask, tilting up my ass upward, seeking more of his hand.

  “I’m just gettin’ warmed up.” Running his fingers up my spine, he grabs a fist full of my hair and slams into me so hard he nearly knocks me off balance.

  Screaming some garbled version of his name into the sheets, I arch my back and accept every single body bruising thrust he delivers. It’s fucking heaven. My aggression and all the emotions that have been building in my head for the last couple days are cut off by the rush roaring through my veins. For the moment, everything else is forgotten, forced back by each surge of Jensen’s hips.

  My body tightens, my arms and legs shaking so hard I collapse when another orgasm hits me full force. Following me down onto the bed, Jensen’s leg brushes mine. The sound of his lust-filled grunts and his body slapping hard against mine can barely be heard over the sound of my own release.

  Releasing his hold on my hair, he grabs my shoulders and yanks me backward. A low guttural sound rips from his chest before his body stills. His lips brush over my shoulder as I whimper through the aftershocks of my climax. Slipping from my body, Jensen settles us on the mattress. Rolling me to face him, he brushes the hair from my face and takes my mouth with his, kissing me deeply, with slow, teasing flicks of his tongue. He hums softly in appreciation before pulling back. Pressing his lips to my forehead quickly, he pulls my cheek to his chest. Sighing contently, I close my eyes and drift to sleep while Jensen’s fingers trace my spine.

  Chapter Eleven

  Roanne

  “I don’t think I can do this, Jensen.” Shaking my head, I look myself over in the mirrored glass in my dad’s large corner office. Brushing my sweaty palms down the front of my black dress, I meet his eyes in the reflection. “I have no idea what to say or do here.”

  “Just breathe. It’ll come to you,” Jensen says, trying to calm me.

  “I never wanted to do this,” I blurt, staring up at the ceiling, silently wishing there were some other way. “This isn’t me.”

  When Jensen woke me up this morning, I expected him to want a quickie. Instead, it was with a plan for us to take on a business meeting at Frazier Stone, in my father’s place. Turns out, while we were busy most of the night breaking in every available surface in the room, Jinks was tearing through every single piece of documentation, in the Frazier Stone database, to find our in for a face to face with Hank Wright. As it turns out, there is a meeting scheduled for today, by the company lawyers, with the companies under contract to discuss how to proceed with my father gone. Among those expected to attend is none other than Hank Wright, himself.

  “Babe, you think I like this shit?” he asks, gesturing to the black suit he is wearing. “I left because I didn’t want this.” Stepping up behind me, Jensen’s hands slide up my arms. Leaning close, he stares at me in the mirror. “It’s you and me, Roanne. This is how we bring your dad home.”

  Squaring my shoulders, I breathe deep. “Okay.” Turning in his arms, I straighten his tie. “You look—”

  “Like my old man,” he interrupts, clearing his throat. “I swore, after the funeral, that I’d never put one of these fuckers on again. I look like a goddamn imposter.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “You look like you’re here to get shit done.”

  “You never could lie for shit,” he says, his lips twitching up in a smile.

  “Fine,” I huff, rolling my eyes. “You look uncomfortable as hell, okay? Is that better?”

  Jensen chuckles, the sound breaking some of the tension building in the room. Reaching up, I push his jacket from his shoulders. “Ro?” Locking his eyes on mine, he arches a brow. “Whatcha doin’?”

  “You’ll see,” I reply when the jacket falls to the floor.

  “Woman, now
isn’t the time to start strippin’ me down,” he teases, shaking his head.

  I roll my eyes. “Would you just shut up and trust me?” Going to work on his green satin tie, I loosen it and yank it free, letting it join his jacket. Unbuttoning the top two buttons of his white dress shirt, I wink at him. “There.” Unclasping the cufflinks on his shirt, I drop them to the pile and begin rolling the sleeves up to his elbows, exposing some of his ink. “Much better.”

  The door opens, my father’s secretary, Louise, peeks her head in. The sweet, old woman who used to give Jensen and I candy when we visited, smiles at us. “Everyone has arrived. I’ve seated them in the boardroom.”

  “Thank you, Louise,” Jensen replies, returning her smile.

  Louise nods, her eyes softening. “Your father would be so proud. They both would.”

  Jensen clears his throat again and gives her a small smile. “Thank you.” His eyes move to me, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me into his side. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Nerves on overdrive, my hands shake as Jensen and I walk to the end of the hallway. Stopping outside the closed double doors that lead to the boardroom, I take a deep breath and focus on what I have to do, then open the door.

  “Good morning, gentlemen.” Making my way to the head of the table, I grip the back of my father’s chair. “Please forgive Mr. Stone and I for keeping you waiting. Shall we get started?”

  “Miss Frazier,” a man to my left begins as I sit. “We are all very sorry to hear about your father. That being said, none of us expected you here so soon.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, giving him a small smile. I scan the table, taking in each place card with the names of each person attending on them beside their coffee mugs, and make a mental note to thank Louise for the extra help. “However, Mr. Bryant, as head of the legal department for Frazier Stone, you know as much as anyone that Jensen and myself have a vested interest in the outcome of this meeting. My father always intended for me to step into his shoes. And, though I never imagined sitting in his chair, I know he would want me to set aside my grief and dig in to get the job done. Jensen and I are here today to assure each and every one of you that business, at Frazier Stone, will continue as it always has.”