My eyes dart to the empty bench across from me.
“We’ll take two bacon cheeseburgers to go,” I say, lifting my eyes as she scribbles my order. “Make them both medium rare.”
“You got it,” she replies before turning to put my order in.
Not entirely sure she hasn’t snuck out the window and left my sorry ass here, I get up and start for the bathrooms. All out of fucks to give, I push the door to the women’s room open and watch her raise her head. Our eyes meet in the mirror, a certain understanding passes between us. She may not trust my words, a part of her may wonder when I’m going to leave, but the rest of her knows this thing between us isn’t something we can control. Staying away from one another won’t do us any good, it won’t change the fact that our souls are shackled to each other.
Stepping into the bathroom, I kick the door, close it and lean against it.
“I want to believe you,” she whispers, bracing her hands against the counter. “I want to stop wondering when you’re going to leave and when I’m going to see you. I want to know who you are now and not mourn who you were, Cobra.”
“The first thing you should know about me is if there is something I want, I’ll make it my mission and move worlds to get it,” I promise as I turn slightly and twist the lock on the door.
Turning back to her, my eyes slice to hers and the fact that she shudders under my gaze sends all the blood surging to my cock.
“I’m scared,” she shrieks. “Losing you once wrecked me. Losing you twice ruined me. I don’t know if I’ll make it through a third time. I’ve got responsibilities, Cobra. I’ve got a life now, a life that means something to me—”
“About time,” I cut her off. “Not looking to crash your lifestyle, babe,” I add, stepping off the door and closer to her. “I’ll take what you’re willing to give. I like the idea of you getting used to me, of us getting to know who we are now and forgetting all the misery we shared.”
“It wasn’t all miserable,” she corrects sadly.
Bravely, she tears her hands from the counter and spins around so she faces me. Satisfaction ripples through me at the revelation that she didn’t purge the memories of us. Powerless, I drift closer to her until we’re sharing breaths.
“It could be good, baby,” I murmur, lifting my hand to her cheek. “Let’s erase the hurt, let’s bring back heaven,” I coax. “You and me.”
Brushing my thumb over her pouty lips, I drop my hands to her waist. My fingers kneed the cotton of her scrubs and I feel her tremble from my soft touch. It’s all the encouragement I need to press harder to grip her with vigor and pull her hips until my heavy cock presses against her stomach.
Bending my head, I sweep my lips across hers, enticing a moan from the back of her throat. No longer able to control the need to taste her, I let my tongue skim the seam of her mouth as my thumbs push into her hips, bruising her. Her lips part and my tongue slips between them, unwilling to give her a moment to change her mind. It’s that first sweep of divine pleasure that has her body coming alive. Her arms wrap around my neck, holding me for dear life.
The weight of her fear is passed onto my shoulders and I realize how absolutely terrified she is. For a fleeting moment, guilt spills over my conscience and I wonder if I’m capable of making things right between us or if I’m just a dreamer. I decide I’m willing to work for her trust and I lift her onto the counter.
She made a decision too and decided to succumb to what we both knew was inevitable. We may have gotten lost a time or two but our paths always managed to reroute themselves back to this…us.
Her resistance teeters and she slowly begins to drown, pouring all her inhibitions into our kiss. It is an all-out assault of tongues and teeth, nipping the lips that were once mine, devouring the mouth I claimed long ago.
It was too much.
It wasn’t enough.
Her hands were suddenly everywhere, touching, searching, reclaiming.
A growl rumbles from deep inside my chest as I untie her scrubs and begin to drag them down her legs. Wedging my knee between her legs, I force them wide apart and stand between them. Her breath comes out in little pants as I take her hands and wrap them around my neck.
“Don’t move,” I grunt, as I drop my hands back to her thighs and squeeze them, digging the pads of my fingers into her silky skin. “I want you completely at the mercy of my fingers,” I say as my hand rounds the inside of her thigh, sliding up to her covered pussy. Keeping my eyes pinned to hers, I trail my index finger down her center and watch her eyes narrow into tiny slits.
“You’re soaked, baby,” I growl, rubbing my fingers over the wetness drenching the thin fabric of her panties. “Got you all riled up,” I add. “You want my fingers, don’t you? You want them buried inside that sweet pussy, fucking you just the way you like it, just the way I taught you.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders as her eyes close and her ass inches closer to the edge of the counter.
Used to think she was a sight when she was seventeen and riding my cock. Thought she was a fucking enigma when she crawled onto that bed in that fancy hotel and spread her legs wide for me. But watching her face as I push aside her panties and drive my fingers deep inside her pussy is a fucking dream.
“Cobra,” she hisses, twisting the leather covering my shoulder in her hands.
Hearing that fucking name on her tongue drives me fucking mad, and I quicken my pace, my fingers sliding in and out with ease.
“Open your eyes,” I demand, pressing my thumb against her swollen clit.
“I can’t,” she protests breathlessly.
“Open your eyes,” I repeat, caressing her slowly as I still my fingers. “Want to see that storm roll through when you fucking come.”
“It’s too much,” she pants.
“It’s never enough,” I correct.
Her eyes flutter open and I lean my forehead against hers.
“Come for me, Cel,” I plead gravely.
Knowing what she needs to set her off, I stretch her and give her a third finger. Fucking her with my fingers, rubbing the heel of my hand over her clit until she bites down on her lip so hard she draws blood.
“Fuck,” she pants.
Her eyes roll as her pussy grips my hand and she drags me back to heaven—a place where only her and I exist.
Two worlds collide, only this time it’s not innocence and sin.
This time, it’s pleasure and bliss.
The tempo of my fingers slows as her arms fall from my shoulders and she wraps one hand around my wrist. She forces her eyes open and stares back at me through the fringe of her lashes.
“I—”
“Shh,” I cut her off, pulling my hand free from hers and slide my fingers out of her. “Don’t say a fucking word,” I order, drawing in a deep breath, filling my lungs with air. Bracing my hand on her knee, I level myself and lift my fingers between us. I watch as her eyes dart to my wet fingers and she follows them as I touch them to my lips. I wipe the feel of her, the scent of her across my lips before I grip the back of her neck and slam my mouth against hers.
“Fucking mine,” I growl. “Always mine.”
My lips bruise hers, prying them open until my tongue drags across hers, drunk on her taste, desperate for more. My body feels like it’s going to explode, the need to bury myself deep inside that tight pussy and resurrect my claim on her consumes me and has me reaching for my the zipper on my jeans. I barely manage to get my zipper down when my phone rings offensively. Tearing my lips off her, breathing heavily, I ignore the fucking call as her hands slide down my chest and start to tug the jeans down my thighs.
The phone stops ringing as I grab my dick and rub my thumb over the head, wiping away the wetness from the tip.
“Condom,” she mutters, shoving my hands away to wrap hers around my shaft. “Do you have one?” she pants.
Fuck.
Cursing, I inch back and peer at her regretfully, assessing her features. Of course I d
on’t have a fucking condom, and judging by the look on her face that’s a deal breaker. My cock throbs in agony and I groan when her thumb flicks over my head.
Little tease.
To add insult to injury my phone rings again and someone bangs on the door. Painfully, I pry her fingers from my cock and tuck the poor thing back into my jeans as I blow out a ragged breath. Reaching into my cut, I grab my phone and turn my feral gaze back to her, groaning at the image she paints.
Swollen lips.
Flushed cheeks.
A sated smile.
I might not have fucked her, but I managed to wipe the fear from her eyes and tally another smile, making the case of blue balls I was sporting completely worth it.
I bend down, pick up her scrubs and drop them on her lap before I take a step back.
“We’re not finished,” I state as I answer my phone. “Hold on,” I tell whoever is on the other end before I reach out and tip her chin back with my finger and force her to look at me.
“Gonna give you time to get used to this, to me and you…and then I’m coming for you, Celeste. I’m going to make you mine again and there ain’t a damn thing in this world that’s going to stop me.”
Her eyes flicker with a mixture of things but I ignore everything except for the distinct glimmer of hope. I take that shit and run with it. I lean forward and touch my lips to hers.
“Saddle up, gorgeous…forever is a bumpy ride…but a fucking beautiful one at that.”
“Promises, always hooking me on a promise,” she whispers hoarsely, tipping her chin to the phone in my hand as she hops off the counter. I finally take the call as she dresses and Deuce shouts at me through the phone, ordering me to get my ass to the hospital, revealing Linc is awake. However, he doesn’t disclose whether or not he is okay and dread churns in my gut.
I take Celeste’s hand, pay our bill and grab the bag the waitress packed for us. She fits the helmet to her head, climbs onto the back of my bike and we take off for the hospital. We don’t speak anymore—not about us, not about what happened or what’s going to happen. When I pull in front of the hospital, she is quick to dismount.
I’m not delusional, I know it’s going to take more than a couple of answers and a quick finger fuck in the bathroom to win her over. I wasn’t bullshitting when I said I’d give her time to get used to the idea before breaking down those walls she built around her—walls I laid the foundation for.
I grab her hand before she’s out of my reach and she freezes in her tracks, slowly glancing over her shoulder at me. Sliding my free hand into my pocket, I pull out a bag of peanut M&M’s and place them in the hand I’m holding.
“In case you get hungry,” I murmur, and again I’m treated to the flicker of hope hiding in those big brown eyes.
Her face softens and she gives me a small smile. Small as it may be, I still tack it onto my count as I watch her disappear into the hospital holding the brown To Go bag with her lunch in it.
My small glimpse of heaven quickly fades as I make my way to the intensive care unit, spotting Deuce and Blackie outside Linc’s room. They speak in hushed tones, but the expressions portrayed on their faces are full of doom. Stepping up behind them, I tip my chin toward the doctor and listen as he recaps Linc’s surgeries. He explains the first surgery they performed repaired torn vertebrae in his back and the second treated the compound fractures of his tibia and fibula bones. He wasn’t telling us anything we didn’t know. We knew they had to put a titanium rod through the bone of both legs and that he needed full casts on both as well. We knew he was put into a medically induced coma to help the healing process of both his back and his legs. What we didn’t know was if the man would ever fucking walk again and this schmuck still didn’t give us the answers we needed.
“Doc, with all due respect, you ain’t tellin’ us anything we don’t already know,” I grind out, cupping the back of my neck in frustration.
Blackie crosses his arms against his chest and levels the surgeon with a glare.
“Is he going to walk?” he grits.
The surgeon draws in a breath and glances over at the two people standing to his left before turning back to Blackie.
“There is bleeding and extensive swelling around the spinal cord. Until we can get the swelling down and the compound fractures heal there is no way of telling if the paralysis is temporary or not. The paralysis stems from the nerves, and right now because of the swelling everything is pushing on those nerves. We have him on heavy doses of steroids which hopefully will bring down the swelling, but you should know even if that’s the case he is going to require extensive physical therapy once those compound fractures heal.”
“Jesus,” Deuce hisses, running his fingers roughly through his hair.
“Does he know all this?” Blackie asks.
“Yes, Mr. Brandt didn’t take it very well,” he reveals, pausing for a beat. “Regretfully, I’m not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stay here, but I’m certain he won’t be able to continue his rehab here.”
“What do you mean you don’t know how much longer he can stay here? He’s fucking paralyzed,” I seethe, narrowing my eyes as he scratches at his jaw. Turning nervously to the man beside him he clears his throat.
“I’m one of the social workers here and the hospital cannot continue to treat a case this severe when the patient doesn’t have any medical insurance.”
“What are you saying right now? You’re kicking a crippled man out on his ass because of some HMO bullshit?” Wolf bellows from behind us.
Cringing, I slowly turn around as Wolf struggles to maneuver his wheelchair down the hallway.
“Shit,” I hiss, making my way toward him. “Who let you out of your room?”
“Fuck off, boy,” he sneers. “Push me over to that cocksucker so I can give him a piece of my mind.”
“Wolf,” Blackie warns.
“Fuck you too, Black. My heart might be all sorts of fucked up but my hearing ain’t, and these douchebags just told you they were throwing Linc out on his ass,” he growls as he grips the arms of his wheelchair.
Pinning his beady eyes on the doctor and his posse, Wolf channels all his strength and pushes himself out of the chair. Quick on my feet, I go to him and offer him a hand but he pushes me away and steps toward the doctor.
“You doctors are a bunch of fucking pussies. I reckon you shitheads take a fucking Hippocratic oath. You swear to uphold the ethical standards of a practitioner but there ain’t nothing ethical about the bullshit you’re spewing. Where I come from an oath is sacred, men kill to stand by their word and hypocrisy isn’t an option.”
Losing his balance, he sways slightly and presses his hand against the wall to steady himself.
“Might not look like much of a threat to you motherfuckers now with this dress on and my ass hanging out for the free world to see, but I promise you I won’t let your politics interfere with his care. That man in there is going to walk again and you fuckers are going to be the ones who get his legs back on the ground. Unlike you I’m a man of my word,” he sneers as he holds their frightened gazes for a moment.
Then in true Wolf fashion he turns around and gives them a prime view of his ass and tells them to kiss it. I probably would have laughed along with Blackie and Deuce but then he turned to me and I realized the crazy fuck was just getting started and I was the poor bastard that had to deal with him.
So much for a glimpse of heaven.
-Nineteen-
Celeste
Pacing back and forth, my boots wear on the threadbare carpet lining the hallway of the motel. The tarnished gold numbers fixed to the door stare back at me offensively. Taunting me. Teasing me. Daring me. I was never one to turn down a dare, in fact it angered me any time someone assumed I didn’t have the gall to do something. However, right now, I’m not sure where the girl with the brass balls is. I’m not even certain she ever existed because it’s been a hell of long time since I took a chance. A hell of a long time since I l
ived without caution.
It’s not without reason. If you’ve been burned as many times as I have you’d be less likely to take chances and more keen on playing it safe too. Especially if every decision you made not only affected you but your innocent little girl too. Coming here—conning the address out of Mr. Scotto, or Wolf rather—well, it was the mother lode of decisions. The severity wasn’t lost on me and every time my eyes glance back at those gold numbers, I remind myself once I knock on the door the decision is made. There is no turning back.
The truth is the decision was made yesterday, it was made the moment he hooked me on his promise. When I left work yesterday with Skylar on my hip and my scrubs wrinkled from Cobra’s hands, I knew I would tell him she was his. There is only one God; He’s the only one who can play games with people’s lives. Cobra deserves to know he’s a father the same way Skylar deserves to have a daddy.
That’s if he wants to be one.
I thought a lot about that too.
Spent all night tossing and turning, conjuring all the possible ways my news would be received. Honestly, it can go either way. You see, Cobra’s right, I know little about the man he is. When I had Jagger we were too young and too consumed with what happened to Alexandria to be anything more than two kids trying to survive a shitty situation. We never discussed kids, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted them until I already had my little miracle growing inside of me.
From the moment I stared at those two lines on the pregnancy test I wanted my baby, not because Alexandria would have wanted to be a mom, but because I wanted to be one.
In another life, a perfect life, Jagger would have been a pro football player and I would have been a journalist. We would have had three kids, a dog and two houses. One here in New York and one in whatever state he played. There wouldn’t be a question of whether or not he wanted our life because every decision we’d make we’d do so together.
In this life, I’m a nurse and he’s an outlaw. There is me and Skylar and then there is him. I don’t know if Skylar fits into his life or if he even wants her, but if he doesn’t know then he can’t make that call.
The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition Page 43
