by Jaci J
“Have at it, baby.”
And she does.
She marches her sexy ass into the kitchen and grabs a soda from the fridge.
Stopping halfway to the door, she turns and says, “Nice to meet you all,” before walking her ass out the door.
Every single asshole in the room looks at me.
“Jesus Christ, Cruz, that’s her?” Zane groans, looking like a horny teenager. “She’s so fucking hot.”
“Hotter than my damn ex,” Jagger adds, smirking. Everyone is hotter than his ugly ass ex-wife.
“She mine,” I tell them, just in case they’re fucking confused.
Mia
I stare at my phone, debating on how I should break the news to Bryce. Do I call or send a text? He deserves to know about me and Cruz. He deserves the truth.
Starting and stopping, and restarting my text, I give up, not sure how to tell him I’m a cheater, and that I don’t feel bad about it. I should. I really, really should, but I don’t.
Being with Cruz feels right.
But two wrongs don’t make a right.
Bryce cheated on me and that’s why we moved here.
Is he still fucking his boss?
Probably.
Do I trust him?
No.
Is he cheating on me still?
More than likely.
Am I in love with him?
No.
I love him, but I’m not in love with him. Sadly, there is a difference.
Bryce was there for me when my mom wasn’t. He was there, holding my hand when I took the leap in opening my dance studio. He was there when my grandma passed away. He was there when no one else was.
He was there until he wasn’t.
“Whatcha doin’ out here, baby?” Cruz asks, walking out onto his beautiful back patio.
There are paver stones and lush trees everywhere. Built-in fireplace. Flower pots and beds. A hot tub. Grill and tables. This back yard is out of a damn magazine, and I’m just sitting here enjoying it when I should be writing out a confessional.
“Writing Bryce a text.”
“Why?” Cruz frowns, his face turning to stone. Sometimes when he’s looking at me, I see a softness there, and other times, I see a hard asshole. Right now, I see the latter.
“I cheated on him,” I mutter, ashamed. I’m not any better than Bryce or my father. “I owe him the truth, and an apology.”
Cruz growls, crouching down in front of me.
Here we go again.
Grabbing my jaw, he pulls me close, his fingers brushing softly against my cheek. “You don’t owe him shit.”
He kisses my lips, his tongue teasing mine.
“I do.”
“He cheated on you with his boss, and he probably still is with as much as he’s away, with her. ”
I don’t even ask how he knows. Cruz seems to know everything.
But that hurts, even if I knew or thought I knew. Having it confirmed by an outsider sucks.
“I know,” I whisper against his mouth, kissing him back.
Apparently, two wrongs do make a right, because here I am, doing the same shit Bryce is doing to me.
“If you know, then why the fuck do you care?”
“Because I loved him once.”
“That wasn’t love, Mia.”
“And you know this how?”
“If you loved him, you wouldn’t be here with me. You wouldn’t give a shit if I lived or died, and you wouldn’t be letting me between your thighs.”
He’s got me there.
Cruz kisses me again before standing up, towering over me in my chair. “I’ve gotta go.”
“What? You’re still hurt...you can’t leave.” The man is going to give me a heart attack.
Smirking, he shakes his head like I’m a silly little thing for even saying anything. “I won’t be gone long. Stay here and make yourself at home. This place is as much yours now as it is mine.”
I watch him walk away, but stop him by the door. His friends are standing inside, watching us. “Cruz?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.” God, I don’t want him to go.
“Will do.”
Walking through the house, I hear the front door close, and not long after, I hear the rumble of motorcycles coming from the front of the house.
He rides a motorcycle?
I know so little about him, and that is why this is so damn crazy.
THIS PLACE IS AS MUCH yours as it is mine.
Cruz’s words are on repeat. He wants me here, comfortable and happy. Like it’s my place. I want that too, more than I should. I haven’t felt at home anywhere in a long damn time. Too long.
I feel it here.
He’s crazy. I’m crazy. We’re crazy. But this feels so right.
Everything is happening so fast. I’ve never been this girl, the girl that falls fast and hard, but with Cruz, it’s different. The way he looks at me, touches me, like he’s been looking for me all his life does shit to me.
I’m falling.
I wander around his house, trying to make it mine. Getting to know it.
Petting Red and Rowdy as I walk through the kitchen toward a door at the far end of the house, I open it, reminding myself he told me to, to make myself at home, even if it feels a little weird.
It’s a large, immaculately kept garage.
One very large black truck sits in one bay, and in the next is a muscle car. It’s black, and also very nice. And in the third bay are three motorcycles. Harleys. Every one of them look expensive.
Closing the door, I back out of the space and head back inside, deciding to take a shower.
Once I get the temperature just right, I step inside, letting the near scalding water wash away my guilt.
Once the water starts to cool down, I get out and grab a towel from the small closet in the corner. Pulling it out, something comes with it.
A white envelope.
It hits the floor with a thunk.
Hundreds fall out everywhere. More money than I’ve ever seen.
Stunned, I stare down at the cash, my mind wandering down a path I’m not proud of.
Cruz is a bad guy, he told me so himself, but how bad didn’t settle in until this very moment, until seeing it with my own eyes, because as soon as I found the cash in the cupboard, I went digging.
I shouldn’t have done it, but I did.
I found more money in the freezer, in a kitchen drawer, and under his mattress.
Two guns in his nightstand. A bullet proof vest in his closet.
I’m way in over my fucking head.
Cruz
“Who are you?”
I’m hit with that the moment I’m through the door.
Mia is sitting on my bed, waiting for me when I get home, Red and Rowdy on the floor at her feet, and a couple of my guns and big ass stack of cash next to her.
Knew this shit was coming.
Better now than later.
“I fucking told you, Angel, I’m a bad guy.” I walk into the room and shrug off my cut, hanging it over the chair in the corner.
Mia holds up her hand, stopping me when I walk farther into the room toward her.
She’s not happy.
“Baby,” I chuckle, walking toward her anyway. I don’t care if she’s scared, because she knows goddamn well I won’t hurt her.
She shakes her head, not buying it. “Great, you’re bad. There are a lot of bad guys out there. Cheaters. Wife beaters. Bank robbers. Serial killers. So, what kind of bad guy are you?”
“What kind am I? You really wanna know the answer to that question?”
She raises her chin defiantly. “Yep.”
She’s chewing on her lip again. Swear to fuck, that shit turns me on.
That’s a damn good question. What kind of bad guy am I? The worst of the worst. The devil incarnate.
“None of the above,” I smirk, knowing she doesn’t like the answer because she narrows her eyes and frowns, her pr
etty features going hard. “You want my resume, baby?”
“Yes,” she answers without hesitation. I can see more questions sitting on the tip her tongue, and if we’re going to do this, then she deserves to know it all.
“Go ahead, ask me whatever you want.” Whatever questions she’s got, I’ll answer. I’m an open fucking book when it comes to her.
I’ve fucked my fair share of women, none of which I’ve been honest with. None of which I’ve wanted to be fucking honest with. But this time, I’m doing shit differently. Mia deserves it.
“Have you ever lied to me?”
We’re starting small and working our way up I see. “No.” I’ve skated and danced, but never outright lied. Not that that’s much better.
Mia likes that answer, as a smile tugs at her plump lips. “Have you ever stolen anything?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“You want the list?”
She doesn’t like that one. “Ever hurt anyone?”
I nod, fighting a smile, and it’s not because violence makes me happy. It’s because she’s so goddamn soft and I fucking love it. Sitting there grilling me, the baddest motherfucker she’ll ever fucking meet, and all I can think about is eating her pussy right now on top of that stack of cash she’s got on her lap.
“Hurt them bad?” Now we’re getting there, skirting around the question she really wants to ask me, but doesn’t really want to know the answer to.
“Yes.”
Mia sucks in a breath, licking her lips nervously. I can practically see her heart beating wildly in her neck. She’s scared of what’s going to come out of my mouth next.
Steeling herself, she takes a deep breath, fingers white from clutching that gun so damn tight.
“You’ve killed someone, haven’t you.” It’s not a question, because she’s smart. She knows.
Taking a couple steps farther into the room, I expect her flinch. Hell, even jump up and away from me.
She doesn’t move.
Brave girl.
“With one of these guns?” she asks, holding it up, palming it. She looks as scared of the gun as she is of me right now.
“With my bare hands.” Guns and knives and rope. I’m creative.
I’m not proud of the shit I’ve done, but what I’ve done was always for the right fucking reasons. I don’t take a life lightly, but that doesn’t mean it keeps me awake at night. I do what I have to, and I never second-guess those decisions.
“Jesus, Cruz.” She cringes, a look of disgust crossing her face.
“I told you,” I tell her, walking to the end of the bed. “I’m not a good guy.”
Taking the gun from her hand, I set it on the dresser. Moving isn’t quite as easy as it was a week ago. Those holes in my stomach fucking hurt, but they don’t stop me.
I want my hands on her body.
“You told me you were a bad guy, but I thought you meant you were like a bad boy. A player, not a murderer.”
“Now you’re thinking twice about saving my life, aren’t you?” I ask her, grabbing her leg and pulling her down toward me, to the edge of the bed.
Sitting on the edge, inches between us, Mia looks up at me. “No.”
“No? You a brave girl, baby?”
“Braver than you think.”
“Brave enough to love a hellbound asshole like me?” I question, wrapping my hand up in her hair when she nods. “Good, because I’m gonna test that bravery from time to time.”
Mia
I’m wresting with the thought that the hands Cruz has on my body have killed someone. Maybe more than one person. I didn’t have it in me to ask how many. I don’t even think I want to know the answer to that question.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, my shirt pushed up over my tits and my panties wrapped around one ankle, I watch Cruz watch me.
He worked me up, and then backed off.
He’s looking at my body like it’s a meal and he’s starving.
I can’t help but touch myself. Sliding a hand up my stomach, I reach my tit and roll my nipple between my fingers.
The man does bad things to my mind and body.
I shouldn’t be here with him, but I can’t bring myself to leave him.
“That feel good?” he drawls, smirking when I let my other hand wander down between my thighs, finding myself wet.
“It would feel a lot better if it was your mouth,” I answer, bravado coursing through me.
I trust Cruz, trust him not to make me feel self-conscience about wanting to touch myself while he watches.
He jerks his chin up, agreeing.
Jesus, he’s fucking sexy as he stands there, bare chested, belt undone and in his hands, ready.
He looks like the bad guy I know he is.
My fingers disappear inside of me and I arch off the bed, needing to be filled. My fingers won’t satisfy the ache, though.
“Fuck, Mia,” he growls, putting a hand on the inside of my thigh and pushing my legs farther apart.
His eyes are heavy and heated, darker than usual.
I still, waiting for him to replace my fingers with his. “Keep going. Make yourself come for me.”
My fingers slide deeper, the heel of my hand rubbing in just the right place.
My eyes roll, but Cruz doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything.
He watches as I start to spiral, and then he’s on me before I have the chance to come down.
Flipping me over on all fours, Cruz runs his fingers through my wetness and growls. “That was a good show,” he tells me, kissing my spine. “Ready for act two?”
He takes his sweet time taking off his jeans.
I’m antsy, and so needy.
“You’re stalling,” I whisper, wiggling my ass back against him.
“Fuckin’ tease,” he laughs, smacking my ass hard, causing my skin to sting and tingle. And he doesn’t just hit one cheek, he hits both. A couple of times.
I’m sure he left handprints.
On my hands and knees, my feet hanging over the edge of the bed, Cruz grips my hips, his fingers biting into my skin as he sinks deep inside of me.
Slowly.
So fucking slow, my toes curl.
Pulling out, he pushes right back in, his strokes hitting me hard.
“Whose pussy is this, Angel?” he grinds out, wrapping a hand up in my hair and pulling my head back, exposing my throat.
“Yours.” One hundred percent.
Never in my life have I felt this way. Every emotion. Every feeling. I’m over-fucking-whelmed by him.
Consumed.
“You gonna share this pussy?” He lets go of my hair and reaches under me. When his fingers find my clit, he starts to rub it.
“Never.”
“You gonna let me come in this pussy?”
Jesus.
Breathing hard, I agree. I agree because I’m so fucking far gone, there’s no bringing me back. I’d agree to anything in this moment. Anything he’d ask of me I’d give to him. Anything.
Cruz pulls out of my body, fisting his cock and teasing my entrance. “Good girl. You know I’ll take care of you,” he tells me, sinking back into my body, one hand on my hip and the other sprawled on my stomach. “Know I’ll give you the fucking world.”
“I know,” I sigh, which turns into a moan when he starts moving, hard and fast.
And I lose control.
My pussy spasms as the orgasm hits me.
Cruz follows, coming inside of me.
There’s no coming back from this, and I don’t want to.
This is what I want.
Cruz
“Hands around my waist,” I tell Mia, reaching back and tapping her thigh.
I can feel her nod against me. She’s cuddled up against my back, her cheek resting between my shoulders.
She does what I tell her, wrapping her arms around me.
“Tighter.”
Her arms tighten, her fingers gripping the leather of my cut li
ke her life depends on it.
Laughing, I touch her hand. “Baby, you’re good. I got you. You don’t have to hang on so tight.”
“You told me tight.”
“You’re gonna blow out my stitches, baby.”
“Shit!” she yelps, pulling away like I burned her. “You’re stitches. I’m sorry.”
They fucking hurt, but not bad enough to ask her to let me go. “I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
Grabbing her hands, I pull them back around me, locking them at my waist.
“Where are we going?”
“Into town.”
On the back of my bike, after spending an hour between her thighs, I decided to bring her with me. I’ve got shit to do, an appearance to make, and I want her with me while doing it.
“Cruz?”
“Angel?”
She hesitates a moment, and I figure that can’t be good.
“Do you think we’ll see those guys again?” Her voice shakes, and I don’t like it. Hate that those pieces of shit scared her, scared her enough that she doesn’t want to leave the house.
“Remember, baby, you’re with the bad guy.”
They caught me once. I slipped up, worried about Mia in that moment and wasn’t expecting it. Next time, that shit won’t happen. Next time, I’ll be ready and waiting.
She laughs, relaxing. “True. You’re kind of a dick.”
“Kind of?”
“But you’re my dick.”
“Goddamn right I am.”
Firing up my bike, I head out of my driveway and onto the highway with Mia clinging to me like a monkey.
There’s nothing better than the roar of a big ass engine and vibration of a finely tuned bike under you, other than rough sex with Mia.
I live for riding, and my brothers.
We’re a small MC, if you can even call us that. Nothing big. Nothing fancy. But we pack weight and connections. In deep with the biggest in the game, The Hell’s Disciples, we’ve got brothers at our backs and goods at our disposal.
We’re damn near untouchable in this game.
We’re riding out to a rally in town. Something small, something one of the Disciple’s old ladies threw together. Charity. Something we’re required to do and make an appearance at.