by Debra Kayn
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn’t see
Panic tightened her chest.
She held his hand tightly, fighting against the past. The memories. She would not allow the fear to paralyze her.
She'd follow him anywhere.
He'd keep her safe.
She pressed her pelvis against him. His hard cock pulsed between their bodies. She'd fuck him until she forgot about her dad, Pop, her situation. Only then would she no longer be afraid.
"Desi?" Merk walked her backward toward the bed.
She whined in protest, turning him around, pushing him to the bed, and following him down. She straddled him. Panting, half crazed, she grabbed his cock with her hand.
His rough, broad hand covered hers. "Need a condom."
Her gaze snapped to his. "I'm on the pill. Are you safe?"
"Yeah." He removed his hand and let his head fall back on the bed.
Perspiration dotted her forehead. Her breathing wheezed through her tight chest. She stroked his erection. Big. Hard. Hot.
She stared at the bead of cum at the tip. What was she doing?
"Desi," he whispered deeply, voice thick and commanding. "You need it. You take it."
She blinked the tears out of her vision and maneuvered her hips, opening her thighs wide above him. The smooth, hard head of his cock met her skin, searing it with its heat. Anger, fear, expectation pushed her down. She took him inch for inch.
The invasion filled her, giving no more room to the fear swirling inside of her. More so, the beautiful fulfillment Merk gave her drove her wilder. She rocked against him and slid her sex up and down. Her sloppy wetness coated his cock, tantalizing her more.
Merk grasped her hips and groaned in approval. Her pussy tightened down on him, screaming for release. She plunged harder, faster, digging her nails into his chest. Somewhere in the back of her head, she became aware of him letting her abuse his body for her own pleasure.
He could stop her.
He could dominate her.
He could pull out from inside of her.
Instead, he offered himself and she took everything. Each pulse tightening her core pushed the past farther away. Her spine arched. She closed her eyes and threw back her head, and an explosive spasm rocked her entire body, forcing a cry out of her mouth.
She fell forward onto Merk's hard, wide chest, cradled in his arms. Her ragged pulse slowed and slowly she slipped back into consciousness. Shocked, she held her breath.
His cock, still hard, still implanted inside her, still wasn't moving.
She jerked her head up and looked down at him. He'd held back for her, and she'd used him. She'd fucked him until she forgot, until she no longer hurt, until she pushed everything else away.
"I'm so sorry," she mouthed.
"Sh." He held her face in his hands and brought her back down to his chest. "You have a long time to give me back what I gave to you. Sleep."
Except, she couldn't sleep. The men who'd threatened her dad were coming back for her. All these years of worrying over if they saw her that night or not came true. She wasn't sure if the threat of someone hurting her or knowing Merk planted himself in her life to save her scared her more.
Chapter Fourteen
Warmth rolled off the fire in Cam's front yard. Merk moved back and stood by Gunner and Stache. Since Cam announced Desi belonged to Merk, his MC brothers stayed away from her out of respect and he could focus on what they'd discussed at the meeting.
"I don't believe Blues will back Reds if shit goes down between us over protecting Desiree. They understand the agreement we have. Even if they get the idea to merge on the outside of the prison system, our guys inside will make sure their members are punished." Stache ran his fingers down the corner of his mouth, straightening his long handlebar whiskers.
Gunner pulled his beer bottle away from his mouth. "We'll be ready. After going months without a fight or working the chain, I look forward to kicking ass. It's getting too comfortable around here."
"Bullshit." Cam approached the group. "You snagged a tractor trailer of new cars two days ago. Don't tell me you're bored."
"Hell, I was stealing cars at thirteen years old. I do that shit for fun." Gunner grinned.
"Shows you're getting old when you talk about crap you did when you were a baby." Stache pointed across the fire. "If you want to talk about what you used to do, you can talk about how you haven't spent any time with Lola in two weeks. I heard she's looking for a real man."
Gunner swept his boot out and almost knocked Stache off his feet. "Fuck you. Some of us do other things besides fuck."
"Right," Stache said, shaking his head. "Pussy and smoke. It's kept many men alive."
"You'll be whining about missing the ladies and weed next time you get locked up." Gunner clinked his bottle against Stache's beer.
Merk walked away from the talk. At this point, he'd like to live off pussy and smoke, constantly, for a year or more, to find some fucking relief. It took everything in him to let Desi work through her fears and sadness by screwing him senseless last night. All he had from sex with Desi was a massive ache in his balls.
His cock twinged in response at remembering how she'd taken him. Hell, he'd known if given the chance, she'd be wild in the sack. Once she cleared her head and focused on him, he'd take control. It killed him to hold back, but letting her take the lead was the only way he knew to show her comfort.
He walked over to Johnson, who offered him a rolled joint. Inhaling and holding, he nodded his thanks, and continued to the porch. The smoke boiled in his lungs and he tilted his head back, letting the long stream of smoke escape. It'd take more than marijuana to forget what he wanted to do to Desi.
Lola patted Merk's arm coming off the porch. He hesitated. "Hey, Lola. Everything going okay?"
Everyone knew Jeremy hung out with Lola when he had free time and could hide his friendship from his girlfriend. He wanted to know how his nephew was doing without asking.
"Spoiled and loving it." She glanced over her shoulder, leaned into him, and lowered her voice. "If it was any of the other guys, I wouldn't say anything."
"You have something to say?"
She lost her smile. "You were gone a lot, but Federal doesn't change. You get what I’m saying?"
He gazed at Desi, her head close to Katie, talking quietly. The hit off the joint not enough to muddle his thinking, he still hadn't grasped the hints Lola gave him. "You're going to have to be clearer for me, honey."
Lola grew serious and leaned in closer. "Before I started hanging around Moroad, most of the girlfriends I had in high school had a run in or two with Jerry Carlyle. We learned to run away at a young age, because he never discriminated."
Merk clenched his teeth together. "You?"
Lola's slight nod spoke volumes. Hatred burned like a wildfire inside him. Jerry Carlyle's crimes exceeded his knowledge. He'd gone to the bar the night he met Desi for the first time to kill Jerry Carlyle with one purpose on his mind. He never thought of Carlyle leaving a trail of pain behind.
"I want you to know if Desiree needs anything, the Moroad women will be there for her. Day or night. She never deserved that asshole for a dad." Lola moistened her lips. "I don't know what's going on between you and her, and it's none of my business, but that girl sitting on the porch who can't take her eyes off you doesn't deserve to be punished more for who her daddy was."
"What I do is none of your business, Lola," he said.
"You're right." Lola stood taller, her head barely reaching his chin. "Just remember what I said and call me if Desiree needs anything."
Lola stepped away. Merk grabbed her arm before she could escape and whispered, "Did she say he—"
"No, honey. Desiree hasn't said a word, but I recognize the fear in her eyes. She's hiding a world of hurt and disappointment behind a brave mask and I don't think it's all about losing her grandpa. She's seen a lot and she's kept everything inside of her for years. Someday, all that
anger will come out and if you're the man in her life, she'll use you to purge herself."
"Right," he muttered, letting Lola go.
Desi had done a good job last night of ridding herself of her emotions. He wasn't sure he'd survive much more of her anger directed toward him.
He stepped up on the porch, slipped his hand under Desi's arm, and stood her up. "We're leaving."
Desi resisted. He let her go. She moved to Katie, hugged her, and stepped around the half circle of women, giving them each a personal goodbye. When Desi reached Christina, Merk stepped off the porch and waited. In a short amount of time, Desi bonded with everyone, despite him wanting to keep his distance.
What he planned to do was his business, not anyone else's.
Jeremy jogged over to the cooler, grabbed a few beers, and returned to the fire. For a split second, he saw himself in his nephew. Underage, angered over the life handed to him, and greedy for what the club offered. He hooked his fingers in his pockets. The drinking and drugs already had a firm hold on him at Jeremy's age. He hoped the curse of addiction stopped before reaching Jeremy. A few beers, a few hits of smoke, would hopefully be enough for the kid.
"I'm ready," Desi said behind him.
He led her to his bike, rode down the driveway, and the need to seek the freedom of the road hit him. Instead of going to Federal, he followed the road to the lake. He couldn't stand to go back to the bar and face the past yet.
Her arms embraced his ribs. He opened the throttle, hugging the corners, and arrived at the lake before his body calmed.
Desi slid off the motorcycle. He remained sitting and took the helmet from her when she removed it.
"What are we doing?" she asked.
He shut the headlight off his Harley. "Nothing."
"Was there a reason why we came clear out here?"
"Nope." He got off the bike and walked to the edge of the water.
Up on top of the mountain peak, nothing between him and the sky, the stars and moon lit the area. Since his last release from prison, he'd sat out here and gone over his life, his mistakes, and every single time he went back to the young girl with the green eyes that touched something inside of him. It felt natural to bring Desi here with him, though he never believed he would.
His plan before knowing her included giving her no choices for the next twelve years. She'd learn to adapt and accept him.
Now he let her fuck him, took her to the lake, and included her on his rides when he usually preferred going alone. He needed to step back and keep his distance or he risked her finding out the truth.
Desi walked along the bank, slipped her shoe off, and dipped her toe in the water. She yelped, tucking her foot back into her Converse sneaker. The pressure in his chest eased, and he grinned. The water never warmed in the Bitterroot Mountains.
"Did you ever take a dare to jump in the water when you were young?" she asked.
He picked up a rock and sent it skipping over the surface of the lake. "No. I can only remember coming here once in high school before I dropped out."
"You're kidding." She sat down on the sandy rock and tossed a pebble in front of her. "I thought all the kids growing up in Federal spent their summer days here."
He bounced a rock in his hand. "I was too busy watching out for my sister to do what the other kids were doing. Life at home was rough for her."
"Your nephew..." She brushed off her hands. "He's quiet, like you."
"I hope that's all he got from me."
"There's probably more." She stared out at the water. "You only need to spend time with him to see what he doesn't show others. Maybe then, you'd find out you have a lot in common. I heard you used to enjoy riding motorcycles together. You took him on rides a lot when he was waiting for Cam to get out of prison."
He cleared his throat. "Who's telling you about my relationship with Jeremy?"
She looked at him. "Christina."
"Ah." He scoffed. He imagined whatever Christina told Desi about him was laced with hurt and anger. The couple of times he'd tried to explain himself after he got sober, Christina told him exactly what she thought of him and where he should go. She preferred him dead than deal with him in Jeremy's life.
Desi crossed her legs. "Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask." He lowered himself to the ground, laid on his back, and propped himself on his elbows. "I might not answer."
She probably couldn't understand why he'd turned his back on his only blood relative or why he chose to leave during the parties. He wasn't comfortable facing one of his biggest failures and the kid would be better off knowing less about his uncle.
"Did you have something going on with Christina? You know, before she and Cam got together?"
He sucked air through his teeth. A whistle went across the water. "That's sure in the fuck ain't something Christina talked about tonight."
"No." Desi stood and sat down again beside him, half facing him. "I only know when a woman hates someone with the intensity Christina shows you there are feelings involved. I've noticed how you leave if she's close by and she never looks at you."
Merk crossed his ankles. "We were never together. After I was released from prison about four years ago, I stayed in a travel trailer at Cam's for a couple of years while he served time in the pen. My job as vice president was to watch over Christina for eighteen months and make sure she stayed at the house and waited for Cam. I kept her and Jeremy safe, and did my job."
"Then why does she hate you?"
There were a hundred good reasons why they were no longer friends. He could soften his view and make himself out to be the good guy in the situation or tell her the truth. He never went the easy route.
"We became friends. Right before Cam came back, I started hitting the bottle. I didn't like how Cam treated her when he came home and I let her know I was available to help her. At the time, she couldn't see how Cam treated her and deserved better." He folded his hands behind his head and stared up into the sky. "I think Christina's a good woman, a kind woman, and a great woman to be in Jeremy's life. I stepped over the line and yeah, I probably said and did things I wouldn't have done if I'd been sober. I believed I could save her from getting hurt."
"Do you blame how you acted on drinking?"
"Nope." He stared out at the water. "I'd do it again sober. There was something I saw in Christina that reminded me..."
He swallowed. Nobody had ever asked him his reasons for what happened the night he let Christina know she had options and what would happen if she continued letting Cam dictate her life.
"Reminded you of what?"
The pain of regret cramped low in his gut. "She reminded me of my sister. I wasn't there for Roni and when Christina fell apart over Cam's treatment, I wanted to help her in a way I failed Roni."
"Ah, I see," Desi whispered.
He moved a rock out from under his elbow. "You see what?"
"You regret not helping your sister more when she was alive, so you misaligned your focus on saving Christina, who was there for you to help." She glanced at him. "Is that what you're doing to me? Saving me from myself?"
"No." He pulled out a cigarette and lit the end. "You're nothing like Roni or Christina."
Desi went back to staring out over the lake. He finished the cigarette. Maybe she was right. Every step he took to find Roni had come to a dead end. In his frustration, he'd tried to make Christina see what was going on with Cam and what she could expect her future to look like. He couldn't even remember aiming the pistol at Cam. The shot hit his target and he sobered realizing his mistake.
A lifetime had gone by since the last time he'd spoken with Roni and she confessed Cam was the father to her baby and she planned to have an abortion. But she'd gone through with the pregnancy.
Between prison sentences and alcohol, time had meant nothing that night he shot Cam. Maybe not knowing where his sister was fucked with his head. His emotions were fresh as if Roni stood beside him crying her heart out, scared
Cam would take her baby away and raise him as a Moroad. In his mind, he saw Roni in Christina and tried to save her.
When Cam later pulled strings and got him out of prison, Merk agreed to tell the club he had feelings for Christina because that's what Cam wanted him to do.
His loyalty sat with Moroad MC. He'd never wavered until that night, and he owed Cam. So, he lied to the club instead of admitting his head was fucked up and he let his drinking get out of control. When Cam told him Roni was dead and he had a grown-up nephew, he swore he'd never pick up another bottle.
"I saw you smoke pot tonight?" Desi blurted.
He blew out his breath on a laugh, thankful for the interruption. "Weed doesn't do anything for me except relax my body. Hell, it's safer than cigarettes."
"Maybe," she whispered. "So, you're an alcoholic. Because if you're staying at the bar, I'd prefer you not drink."
"I'm not going to drink." He turned his head. "You have a problem with others drinking and yet you own a bar."
"I don't care if others drink, but I've lived with an alcoholic. My dad wasn't the nicest person to be around when he was loaded. Pop protected me though. He'd keep dad away from me. But—"
"Did he hurt you?"
"Do children avoid getting hurt growing up?" She smiled sadly.
"Good point," he mumbled.
Several minutes passed, both of them caught up in their own thoughts or maybe, like Merk, reluctant to say more. He'd taken care of Roni for as long as he could remember, because his parents preferred to focus on the next big high. Drugs and drinks killed any love and attention in his house.
His mom died of pancreatic cancer while he served time in juvenile detention for getting caught holding up a gas station for the measly fifty dollars in the register. Soon after, his dad died from an overdose. His sister took their deaths hard, but he'd personally been glad for the reprieve and getting them away from Roni, who had her own problems. Without them influencing his sister, he'd hoped to get her clean.