“What papers?”
“Oh, you know what. Fuck you.”
“Fuck me?”
“Yeah.” I get back in his face. “Fuck. You. Murder.”
“Fuck me?” he growls, and I shrink back, falling onto the black leather couch.
He looms over me all broody and still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. Those dangerous dark eyes bore into me. Warmth tingles through my veins and to regions I wish wouldn’t get excited by his presence, but I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t attracted to him. I look for him in every man I meet. It hurts to admit that, but it’s true. He’s all I will ever want, and I hate that I do. Want him. I try so hard not to think about him, but it’s hard when I look into my daughter’s brown eyes and see his reflecting back at me.
“I hate you. I hate you so much I need a new word for how much.”
“You don’t hate me, Lex.” He jerks my legs apart and grabs me between the thighs. “You’re just mad because I’m not yours to fuck anymore, but I’m feeling generous tonight.” His hand moves to his belt.
“What are you doing?” I try to move but he holds me in place with one hand while undoing his jeans with the other.
“Gonna fuck you, baby. Give you some dick so maybe you’ll lose the attitude and remember who you belong to.”
“Stay away from me.”
“You know you want it. Fucking soaked and panting for it.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Miss you, pretty girl. Miss the feel of you. The way you’d cry out and beg me for this cock.”
“I’m not having sex with you.” I shove against his chest, and he doesn’t even budge an inch. No, he rips my fishnet stockings and yanks my thong clean off.
“Been months since I’ve been inside you. Months since I’ve felt peace. And one look at you, and all my anger and pain fades right away. Why is that? Only thing that can bring me any peace is you?”
“I don’t give a damn what you think you feel or know. I’m not yours, and I never will be again.”
“You’ll always be mine, Lex.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Shit is complicated.” He slides a finger inside me, and I melt at the connection. My eyes roll back in my head when he adds a second digit to the mix. “There’s my girl,” he grits, coming in for a kiss.
I roll my lips inward to deny him, but my body hums for him. Craves his touch.
“Playing hard to get?”
“No. Stop it. I’m not yours. I don’t want this. I don’t want you.” I push at his shoulders.
“Liar. So full of shit they can smell you in Kentucky. Kiss me,” he demands. His liquor tainted breath washes over me.
“Eat shit.”
“How about I eat your sweet cunt instead?” he drops to his knees to worship me. Rubbing his face between my legs he kisses my clit, sucking the sensitive skin. “Fuck, Lex. Best pussy.” Squeezing my tit as I try to wiggle away from him, he ignores my cries of protest. “God damn, I don’t know what I’ve missed more. Eating you till you come or you riding me till I blow.”
His filthy talk shouldn’t set my soul on fire, but it does.
He strokes himself with one hand and plays with my pussy with the other. Can’t fight it or deny it. As fucked up as it is, I want him. I want him so bad I could cry. Against my better judgment I lay back and stop resisting. Getting a grip on his hair I ride his fingers while he tongues my clit until I come. I’ve not been with anyone since him. Tanner tried. He was patient and sweet, but eventually his patience gave out and he took off.
“That’s it, Lex. You don’t want me. Don’t like it when I do this either, right?” He grins then laps at my pussy, licking me like he can’t get enough.
I’m still in the throes of my orgasm when he snakes up my body and shoves his thick cock inside me. A shudder and jolt ripples through him as my pussy contracts around his dick.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck. Nothing better. So damn good. Your pretty little pussy curves to my dick.” And then he’s moving fast and furious, fucking me as if his life depends on it.
We’re feral animals rutting. Heavy grunts pass between us. Teeth nipping and tasting. Sweat dripping, blood pumping, bodies slapping together in a rhythm that’s erotic and primal. He kisses me hard and deep. I hate myself for loving him. For loving how well our bodies fit. How he knows what buttons to push. How to play my body.
I wish I could be stronger, but when it comes to this man, I’d do almost anything he asks of me just to be with him. I’m pathetic. I lift my hips, seeking him out, wanting him to go deeper and harder.
“No more dancing, Lex.”
I go still. I found one thing I won’t give him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
He draws out and slams back in. “Promise me.”
“Get off.” I press against his chest.
“I don’t like it. Don’t want my brothers staring at you and imagining fucking what’s mine.”
My hand flies up and whips across his cheek.
Nostrils flaring, he wraps a hand around my throat and gives me a squeeze in warning. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”
I gasp. Tears sprint down my cheeks, hot and fast as though they are racing. “Let me up.”
“You’re mine, Lex. Told you I’m a possessive bastard. We’re through when I say, and I didn’t fucking say.” Murder fucks me harder than before as though he needs to remind me or possibly punish me.
Our gazes meet. He gives me his imperfectly perfect smile then pulls out to finish on my belly. Dropping his forehead to mine he holds still a beat before pushing away.
“I’m not gonna stop ya know. I don’t need you or your false promises. I can take care of myself. Like always.”
“Lex...I.” he drops his head then snaps it back up in a flash. Intense and snarling, his eyes narrow on me. Angers pours from his stare, rolling off him in waves. “I warned you. You’re in my fucking world. You don’t get to decide when you leave. If I want to fuck you, you’ll spread them legs for me. If I give you money, I expect you to spend it on my God damned kid.”
I jump up and grab a tissue from the side table to wipe my stomach off. “I’m going to say this one more time. I’m not your property. Wylla Mae is my daughter. She doesn’t belong to you. You don’t know her. You’ve never held her. Fed her. Changed her. You know nothing about what it’s like for us. You wanna fuck someone...go get one of your whores at your clubhouse. Or better yet why don’t you go home to your wife you’re so devoted to and ask her how my pussy tastes, huh?”
In one swift movement he’s back in my face, hand on my throat again. “I should just knock you up again.”
“I’m not Ruthie,” I grit in his face, holding back my tears. “Go home to your pregnant wife and stay the hell out of my life. I don’t want you. I don’t need you and I sure as fuck don’t love you. Leave me alone, Murder.”
“Not till you get it through your head that this is the way shit’s gonna be until I say otherwise. Anyone touches what’s mine...” he grabs me between the legs again. “I’ll fucking kill them. Behave accordingly. Don’t fuck around on me. Do as your told.”
“I’ll fuck anyone I want when I want.”
“Babe, you’re really pissing me the fuck off.”
“Get used to it.” I jerk away from him and stomp down the hall to the dressing groom. Screw him. I don’t need this shit. Not from him. Not after everything we’ve been through in the past year.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The second I stumble through the garage door Ruthie flicks the kitchen light on. I throw up an arm to shield my eyes as I squint. ‘The fuck you doin’?”
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Do you know what time it is?”
“You’re not my mother.” I shrug past her and kick off my boots, making my way toward the bedroom.
“I needed you and I couldn’t reach you.”
“I’ve held up my end.”
“I’m spotting blood. I ca
lled the doctor and he said I should come in first thing but if gets worse to go to the emergency room.”
Fuck. Fucking fuck. This is the second miscarriage in the past year. Her first happened a few months after we buried Rochelle. I don’t love Ruthie. Nor do I want to raise another child with her, but I don’t want to lose my son. My future depends on this pregnancy being viable. I lay my cut over the back of a chair and step out of my jeans. “I need a shower.”
Ruthie comes in close and starts sniffing me. “You’re wasted? You smell...” She sniffs my face. “Like another woman. Like pussy. You’re fucking around on me? After everything?”
“I agreed to another baby. Never said shit all about keeping my dick in my pants.”
“I assumed that was obvious, James. Don’t toy with me. You know what I’m capable of,” she says with a sneer.
“I’m getting in the shower then I gotta head back out to handle some shit for the club. I’ll give you a ring to see what the doctor says.”
Her hand moves to her hip, but I slam the bathroom door in her face before she can start flapping them damn jaws with more of her nagging bullshit. I’m in no damn mood. Alexa is under my skin. I’m disgusted with myself. I know I’m a sorry bastard. I knew not to go to that club and be that close to her, but I did it anyway. In the shower I punch the white tiles until my blood runs down them. I fucked up. I’m supposed to protect her not be the man hurting her. Yet I can’t seem to stop. If I stay away, I can’t breathe. If I get too close, I drown myself in her and hate her for it. I’m fucked in the head.
You’ve never fed her.
Held her.
Changed her.
Alexa’s words echo in my thoughts as the hot water sprays down on me. It hurts because it’s the truth. I don’t deserve that little girl. By the time I get out of the shower Ruthie has gone to bed. I’ve tried to force myself to feel something for her, but when I look at my wife the only emotions inside me are regret and loathing. I hate her but can’t bring myself to kill her because we got one thing right. Rochelle.
I ride out. When I reach my destination it’s quiet. All the lights are off. I let myself in with the spare key. The kitchen is tidy, save a few empty bottles in the sink and a can of powdered formula on the counter. I flick on the light over the stove. In the living room there’s a stack of baby clothes folded on the coffee table with a full basket next to it on the floor. On the end table sits a framed photograph of Alexa in the hospital, holding our daughter. I trace the rough pad of my finger along the smooth glass making out their faces.
You’ve never fed her.
Held her.
Changed her.
Creeping down the hall, I’m careful to keep my movements light and silent. I pause at the bedroom door. Alexa is sprawled out in the center of her bed in nothing but a thin tank top and a thong. I want nothing more than to strip down and crawl into bed simply to hold her, but I can’t. At the foot of the bed is a white crib.
The baby fusses and Alexa stirs. I don’t want her to know I’m here and yet I’m not ready to leave. In three steps I’m leaning over the crib and glancing down at Wylla Mae for the first time. Bald headed and big eyed she kicks her legs out, slobbering on her tiny fists.
She resembles Rochelle at this age. I stroke the top of her head, surprised to find that she does have hair it’s just fine and blonde. A spit bubble blows out her mouth. I go to leave but she cries out. The sound splits my heart in two. Alexa doesn’t budge at the noise this time. It’s been a long time since I’ve held a baby, but I pick my daughter up gently, being careful to support her head and bottom.
“Hey, baby girl.” I whisper, strolling to the living room, patting her back as I go. Her sweet baby smell washes over me as I drop my ass to the couch. Laying her across my knees I stare at her. It’s been a lifetime since I’ve done this, but I’m sure not much has changed. “You got my eyes,” I note, studying their brown color.
Her legs kick my belly.
“You’re a strong little squirt.” I pick Wylla up and cradle her to my chest. “I’m sorry I’m not around for you. Life’s not fair, and I got my reasons. Things you’re too young to understand. But I stay away for your protection. There are people who’d use you to hurt me. An evil woman who will hurt your mom if I’m not careful, and I can’t and won’t allow that. You’re too important to me. You need your mom more than you will ever need me. But I want you to know that I love you. Love your mom too. You were born out of the love we share. No matter where this life takes us, I’ll watch over you.” She grabs a handful of my beard, tugging on the whiskers and cooing.
“One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do is walk away from you and your mother.” This sweet, pure child of mine pats my cheek as though she understands. “You got your whole life ahead of you. I’ll be damned if I let you pay for my sins. Only want the best for you. To give you that no one can know you’re my flesh and blood. I lost one daughter then you came along. I was told someone else would raise you. I tried to make my peace with that, but your mom changed her mind. Gotta tell you, Wylla Mae, I’m damn glad she did.” I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes soaking her in. Committing this moment to memory because it can’t happen again. I can’t afford to be weak. Not when her future depends on it. I gotta do this for her. For Alexa.
“She likes you,” Alexa whispers, startling me.
“I don’t know about that,” my voice comes out hoarse. “Listen...”
“No. I’m done listening to your broken promises and lies. You can’t just show up in my life whenever you want. I still love you though I know I shouldn’t. I thought you loved me too, but this...whatever we are is far from love, James.”
“I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. Give you the life I promised. But this is all I can give. You said you’d take me any way you could have me. Did you mean that?”
A tear slides down her cheek. “It’s not enough.”
“Doing the best I can. There’s shit you’re better off not knowing. Can you trust that I wish things were different, and I’m fighting like hell to stay away for your own protection.”
“Did someone threaten me?”
“Nothing for you to be worried about.”
“Don’t shut me out.”
I get up and hand Wylla Mae to her mother. “This is how it’s gonna be.”
“Just tell me why. Make me understand. Give me one reason. A real one.”
“Not tonight.”
“Then when?”
“When the time is right.” I stroke her jaw, and she turns into my caress. “I love you, Alexa. You can question everything else but never doubt the way I feel about you or our daughter. I’m doing what’s best. I need to know you’ll wait for me. As long as it takes to pull us through the other side of the mess I’ve made of things.”
“I’ll wait for you, James, but don’t make me wait too long. I need you. We need you.”
“You gonna keep dancing?”
She shrugs, and I contain my anger even though my blood is boiling at the thought. I don’t want to fight with her in front of the kid. “I need to change her.”
“I can do it.”
Her brows shoot up. “You want to change her diaper?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Her stuff is on the changing table in the bedroom. I’m going to make her a bottle.” She shoves Wylla Mae back into my chest.
A putrid smell wafts up from the back of her sleeper and something wet touches my hand. “Fucking hell,” I mutter.
“Did I forget to mention that she’s wet?” Alexa rolls her lips inward fighting her giggle, but I hear it under her breath. Serves me right though.
“She’s more than wet.” I stomp down the hall and lay the baby on the changing table. First damn thing I do is clean my hand off with a baby wipe. “All right.” I rub my palms together. I can do this. It’s just a shitty diaper. No big deal. I unsnap her sleeper and go to undo the latches on the diaper when she rolls to her side, and th
at’s when I see it. Greenish yellow nasty fucking oatmeal looking shit streaked up her back. I throw a hand over my mouth and gag. “What has your mother been feeding you? Alexa,” I holler. “I’m gonna need a damn hose.”
Wylla Mae blows a spit bubble at me then kicks her legs, making it worse.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I scowl at her and she babbles at me.
“Just like her dad,” Alexa says from behind me. “I started her bath.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. This is how it should be, and I feel like a rotten bastard that I gotta leave soon with no idea when I’ll return. But she said she’d wait for me. As long as it takes.
Part Two
Chapter Twenty-nine
Present day
I climb on my bike. The past eighteen years play on a loop like the scenes of a movie as I roar down the highway. The first time I saw Alexa. Pure trouble. Pure temptation. Losing Rochelle. A pain I thought I’d never come out the other side from. Watching Wylla Mae grow up without me. Seeing her evolve into a beautiful young woman and completely flourish despite all the shit life threw at her for being tainted with my blood. Watching Alexa go from man to man ruining every good relationship she had. Bringing men into her life she had no intention of settling down with. Anything or anyone to dull the pain. A free bird who never wanted to be caged by any man but me. Punishing herself for what happened with Rochelle and Colter. Hating herself for loving me.
She hit a breaking point when Wylla Mae was eight. The kid had a cold. I remember it like it was yesterday. Alexa called me. She never called, but she sounded so damn desperate, I couldn’t stay away. It killed me to see Alexa and Wylla Mae. That little girl was the spitting image of her dead sister. Like the daylight to Rochelle’s dark. Every time I looked at Wylla all I saw was the child I lost and another I couldn’t be there for. Hurt like hell. Like a curse I couldn’t break. During this time Ruthie kept suffering miscarriages. A never ending cycle of loss and grief.
Tempting The Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV Book 3) Page 17
