The smile was instant, but she quickly tries to hide it, shrugging her shoulders as if to say it was no big deal.
“It is what it is. We’re having a good time,” she offers.
Right.
Tell someone else.
My cousin was head over heels for the king of orgasms.
“You’re so full of shit,” I tease.
She laughs.
“Yeah, I am. A part of me hates how vulnerable I am around him. Like the other day, he had to go out of town on some sort of club business. He didn’t call or anything and I started to feel insecure, wondering if he was gone for good. Then I came home from work and found him waiting on my stoop for me.”
Hearing her talk about the club made me feel guilty. Gina knows about Jagger. She knows he was my first love. She knows about Alexandria and she knows he left without a trace. She doesn’t know he’s Skylar’s father and she sure as hell doesn’t know who he is now. She doesn’t know Cobra and her boyfriend are in the same club.
“Hey, did I lose you?” she asks, nudging me with her elbow.
“I have a confession of my own,” I blurt.
“Spill it,” she orders, turning to me. As I try to find the words to explain, I watch her cross her legs and she gives me her undivided attention.
“Jagger’s back,” I whisper.
Her eyes go wide.
“The Jagger?”
I nod, reaching for the bottle of wine again.
“The one and only,” I mutter as I fill my glass. “Only he doesn’t go by that name anymore.” I turn back to her, tipping my glass in her direction. “Apparently it’s a fad or something. Anyone with a leather vest and a reaper on their back gets a nickname.”
“Are you shitting me? He’s a Satan’s Knight?”
She slaps my arm playfully.
“Tell me everything.”
“I saw him at the hospital after the bomb went off. I kept expecting him to leave but day after day he showed up. If he wasn’t watching over Wolf then he was sitting with Linc.”
“And let me guess, you just happened to be working,” she smiles at me.
“Yeah,” I roll my eyes and return the smile.
“That’s crazy. After all this time, after everything you two went through, he’s back.”
“I know, right?” I shake my head. “There’s more,” I whisper, turning to her. “He’s Skylar’s father.”
“Come again?”
“Two years ago, we ran into each other. I was on a date with a complete loser and he was…well he was there. It was supposed to be goodbye. Closure. I walked away from him and never thought I’d see him again.”
“Celeste, how come you never said anything?”
I shrug my shoulders.
“It didn’t seem fair anyone knew before he did,” I whisper.
“Does he know?”
“Yes, he met her for the first time yesterday,” I tell her.
“Wow,” she whispers, pausing for a moment. “I don’t even know what to say. How did he take it?”
“He was shocked at first. Then angry because I didn’t tell him right away.”
“Wait a minute, you knew how to get in touch with him after you found out you were pregnant?”
“No, it was one night. He was a nomad then. He didn’t come home until about a year ago,” I explain. Speaking out loud made me wonder if he was in Brooklyn when Skylar was born.
“So now what? Does Stryker know?”
“I don’t know what happens now. He says he wants to try to make it work, that he wants to get to know Skylar and be a part of her life,” I say with a sigh. “I don’t know who out of the club knows other than Deuce. Well, Wolf knows something is up too because after I decided to tell him about Skylar I went to Wolf for his address.”
“Wolf,” she repeats, narrowing her eyes. “I’ve never met him but I’ve heard all about him.
“He’s a crazy bastard that thinks I’m going to marry him.”
Leaning my head against the headboard, I smile and she lets out a laugh.
“Don’t ask,” I warn.
“I won’t,” she promises. “Did he ever tell you what happened? Why he left in the first place?”
“Yeah, he told me that night in the hotel. His family had gotten a lead on his sister’s disappearance. A bounty hunter had advised them to leave Brooklyn, make it look like the family was trying to move on and all that, but in the end they never found out what happened to her. They got a name of a man who was responsible for a bunch of missing girls in the area but then his parents were murdered.”
“By the guy who took their daughter?”
“I don’t know the logistics of it all,” I lie, feeling as if I already disclosed too much. Plus I didn’t want to live in the past anymore. I think if we’re going to move forward and try to make a life for our daughter then we need to leave the past behind.
For once and for all, I think it’s time to lay the tragedy that claimed us to rest.
“Can we sell your story to Lifetime?” she jokes.
“I don’t think Lifetime would even touch this shit show,” I laugh.
“One more question and then I’ll leave you alone.”
“Sure you will,” I mock. I know Gina’s questions won’t truly end for a good two weeks.
“Do your parents know any of this?”
God, I hadn’t even thought about that. Jagger was like a son to them. He spent more time in their home than he did with his own family and when he left, they hurt too. Not only because they had to watch their daughter fall to pieces but because they feared what had happened to him.
After Skylar was born, I thought they knew the truth. I thought that after they took one look at her they would see him, just like I did. I still feel they know but they never asked, and I never offered.
I’m going to have to tell them the truth.
That should be fun.
“No,” I cringe. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“Make Jagger tell them,” Gina offers.
“Cobra,” I correct.
“Cobra, that’s his road name?” A giggle bursts from her lips. “Tell me it’s because he’s packing a snake. Wait! Did you sleep with him again? You definitely did.”
“Guilty,” I admit, taking another long sip of my wine. Feeling the effects of the wine, my cheeks flush and I place it back on the nightstand. We sit silently, mulling our confessions as we stare at the ceiling.
“Look at us,” she mutters beside me. “Two girls dating men that will probably destroy us.”
“Always the pessimist,” I groan.
“Maybe they won’t,” she whispers. “I pray I’m wrong, Celeste.”
“Yeah, me too,” I reply hoarsely.
I don’t know if my heart can withstand another blow. No matter how hard I try to pretend I’m strong like my cousin, I’m not. My heart has been broken too many times. The pieces are fragile, frail and barely hold together anymore.
“Wouldn’t it be something if they didn’t though?” she asks hoarsely.
It’d be nothing short of a miracle.
We should probably grab the rosary.
Throw up a Hail Mary to the big guy.
An Our Father wouldn’t hurt either.
Something.
Anything.
Please, God, have mercy on us
-Twenty-five-
Cobra
If someone had of told me I’d be riding alongside Vic’s hearse or that I’d be a pallbearer at his funeral, I would have told them to fuck off. That’s exactly what I wanted to tell Jack when he sat us around his kitchen table and gave us our orders. Seeing as I didn’t want my dick blown off by my president I kept my mouth shut and agreed to show at the funeral.
And what a funeral it was shaping up to be.
For the next two days Torregrossa and Sons Funeral Home would close to accommodate Vic’s funeral and our bikes would be parked out front. Expecting danger, Jack’s plan wa
s to throw us into the front lines to keep Vic’s family safe so they could mourn the legend in peace.
I don’t mind stepping up for the Pastores, but I have this nagging feeling that these people aren’t even the target. If anyone is in danger it’s the man who holds all the cards, and now that man is Rocco Spinelli.
Jack is adamant that this is about Vic and swears once that man is laid to rest our ties to the mob are done. He doesn’t want an alliance with Rocco. Mainly it’s because he doesn’t trust him but also because Rocco is going to have a lot of heat on him. He will be a walking bull’s-eye for a long time. If the guy makes it to his next birthday, it’ll be a miracle.
Knowing all that, I can’t help replaying the conversation I had earlier with Celeste. Of course she would be related to the gangster. Nothing is ever easy and we’re acing that whole six degrees of separation theory around here. I should take comfort they’re not close, but I’ve been burnt too many times by coincidence to trust anyone I love is ever safe.
We’re going to have to talk. She will have to tell me everything she knows about her cousin. Then she’s going to promise me to stay as far away from him as possible.
Being cautious never got anyone killed.
Being reckless did.
I stop off at the pizzeria on the corner of her block. Grab a large pie, a couple of rice balls and one of those salads she always seems to eat at the hospital before heading back to her apartment.
There hasn’t ever been a time in my life when I looked forward to going home. When I was a teenager I avoided my house at all costs, only going home to sleep. As an adult, I chose not to have a home.
Home was my bike.
It was the open road.
Now home is wherever they are.
Celeste and Skylar.
My girls.
It’s fucking mind blowing how shit can change so quickly. How I went from a loner to a man with a family.
A family.
Sounds strange.
Especially since I don’t know a damn thing about my daughter other than she’s gorgeous.
Balancing the food in one hand, I pound my fist against the door and make a mental note to get a key made. After a few attempts, she doesn’t answer and I place the food down. Reaching into my cut I pull out a leather pouch.
Being a criminal keeps you prepared for anything.
It takes me two minutes to pick the lock and step inside her apartment. Tomorrow she’s getting a fucking fire safe door with a deadbolt. The scent of her perfume hits me as I gather the pizza boxes from the floor and step into the apartment.
Glancing around the living room, I spot her curled into a ball on the couch fast asleep. I drop the pizza boxes onto the counter and wander through the house looking for the baby, but there isn’t any sign of her. Making my way back to the couch, I kneel in front of it and push the hair out of Celeste’s eyes.
So peaceful.
So fucking gorgeous.
I hate to wake her but need to know where Skylar is. Gently, I shake her shoulder until her brown eyes flutter open.
“Hi,” she says groggily.
“Hi,” I murmur, caressing her cheek. “Where’s the baby?”
Yawning, she stretches out her legs then curls them back to her chest.
“She’s with my parents. They asked to keep her for the night. I had a little too much to drink at Gina’s,” she explains, reaching out to grab a hold of my shirt. “Shit,” she mutters, running her free hand over her face.
“I’m sorry, Cobra, I didn’t even think before I said yes. If you want me to go get her I will.”
Threading my fingers through her hair, I lean over her and fix my eyes to hers.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. Sure, I wanted to spend time with Skylar. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to know everything about her. That doesn’t change the fact that a couple of days ago I vowed to get to know her mother better and make up for all the years we had lost. It doesn’t change the promise I made to tally her smiles again.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“When was the last time you had a free night?”
She studies me for a moment before pushing herself up and swinging her legs over the edge of the couch.
“Honestly? I don’t remember,” she admits. “I’m not complaining.”
“No you’re not, but you wouldn’t be wrong if you were,” I counter as I rise from my knees and sit beside her on the couch. My hand cups her knee. “Can’t imagine it’s been easy on you.”
“I’m not looking for a medal, Cobra,” she asserts quickly.
“How ʼbout a good time? You in the market for a night out?”
Stretching her legs across my lap, she cocks her head to the side and stares at me.
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“Seems overdue,” I answer with a shrug. I point to the pizza boxes on the counter. “Breakfast.”
“Pizza for breakfast?” she questions.
“Ice cold pizza,” I tell her.
“That’s hangover food,” she accuses.
“Only if it’s accompanied by a side of Tylenol,” I point out, shrugging my shoulders. “Otherwise that shit’s the breakfast of champions.”
Grinning, I run my hands down her legs, stopping to squeeze her thigh.
“Come on, gorgeous, live a little with me,” I urge.
“Famous last words,” she whispers.
“But words that are always worth the memory.”
Releasing her, I slide her legs off my lap and stand. Pulling her up from the couch, I start for the bathroom.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Need a shower, and if I know you, you’re going to want to get yourself all dolled up.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, I’m fucking starving and what better way to save time other than showering together,” I say, pushing her into the bathroom. “Take your clothes off.”
I kick the bathroom door closed, push down the toilet seat and sit down to remove my boots. Surprisingly, she doesn’t give me her lip. When I peer back at her I’m treated to that sweet shimmy of her hips as she works her pants down her legs.
“That’s my girl,” I growl.
“I’ve never had shower sex before,” she confesses, kicking her pants across the tile floor.
“Giving me another first, yeah?”
“All of them.” She winks as she pulls her shirt over her head.
Standing in front of me in nothing but her bra and thong, she reaches for my shirt.
“Let me help you,” she whispers. Carefully she works my shirt over my shoulders and bends her head to press her lips to the gauze covering my shoulder.
“We should probably keep this covered,” she murmurs, tossing my shirt behind her.
“Whatever you say, nurse,” I rasp.
Taking hold of her hips I push her back so I can stand. My fingers work the button on my jeans. The zipper is next before I push the denim down my legs and kick them to the side. Her eyes dart down to my cock and it twitches in satisfaction.
All yours, babe.
All yours.
Spinning her around, I reach behind the shower curtain and twist the knobs, turning the water on. Reaching behind her, she unclasps her bra and pulls the straps down her arms. My eyes dip to her breasts and a groan rumbles through me.
“Get in,” I demand.
Her hands move to the waistband of her underwear but I grab a hold of her.
“In. Now.”
Eyes latched onto mine, she steps into the shower under the spray. I follow her in, watch as she tilts her head from side to side, making sure the water soaks through her blonde hair. My gaze drifts to the pebbles of water sprinting down her body, soaking her underwear so it clings to her pussy.
Growling like a starved animal, I close the distance between us and take her face in my hands.
“Didn’t realize how much I missed this until now,” I admit. “Makes me wonder
how I ever lasted.”
Bending my head, I brush my lips across hers. My tongue snakes out, runs along the seam and demands entry. Never one to deny me the opportunity to take from her, her lips part and my tongue invades her mouth.
Hot.
Hungry.
Insatiable.
She wraps her hands around my wrists, feeding off our kiss, matching the stroke of her tongue to mine and rocks her hips against mine. Tearing my lips from hers, I groan wildly and push her back against the cool tiles. She yelps, and fuck, my dick likes that too.
Dipping my head, I go in for another kiss, this time assaulting her lips with my teeth before sucking her tongue in my mouth. Grabbing her hands I lift them over her head, pinning them with one hand as I reach down and take a hold of her tit.
Her fucking tits are enough to drive me mad and for a fleeting second I regret the shower sex. Imagining her sprawled on her back pressing her tits together as my cock glides between them. Yeah, that’s a fucking beautiful picture right there. Be even prettier if I shot my load all over those creamy breasts, rubbing every drop over those tight, pink nipples.
“Fuck,” I grunt, closing my eyes.
I shake my head as I battle with my raging cock.
“What’s the matter?” she hisses.
Breathless.
Wanton.
“Don’t speak,” I plead.
Her voice alone does things to me. After another moment, I drop to my knees and spread her legs apart.
“Give me that pussy, baby,” I beg, palming her through the underwear that clings to her.
“God, yes,” she rasps as my fingers tear the lace away.
Bare, pink flesh, soaked and swollen stares back at me, begging to be devoured.
An unintelligible sound rolls up from my throat as I slide my fingers between her lips. Her legs shake as she pushes her hips off the tiles and nudges her pussy closer to my mouth.
“Give me your mouth, Cobra,” she cries. “Make me feel alive.”
The selfish fuck I am gets harder because she begs for it. Giving in, I swipe my tongue down her center. That first taste is like the whiskey I’ve become used too.
It goes down smooth.
Burns once it settles.
Leaves you craving the whole fucking bottle.
Licking her from the bottom up, I flick my tongue over her clit. My strokes are slow, gradually picking up speed. She grinds her pussy over my face, crying for my tongue to give it to her harder.
The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition Page 48
