by Bella Jewel
“Do you want me to come?”
I wave a hand. “I’m okay.”
I push through the crowd, stumbling a little. Occasionally I stop and wiggle my ass to as song I like, and it takes longer than necessary to get out of the bar, but I make it eventually. As soon as the fresh air hits my face, the alcohol moves quicker in my system and my legs feel wobbly.
“You doin’ okay there?”
I spin around and trip at the sound of a masculine voice. A hand lashes out and catches me, and I look up to see Rainer staring down into my face.
“Rainer,” I say, laughing. “Sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be out here alone, Belle. It’s dangerous.”
I steady myself and he lets me go. I see he’s got a cigarette in his other hand.
“You smoke?”
He looks down at his hand then shrugs. “When I’m stressed.”
“Why are you stressed?” I ask, leaning on the wall to steady myself.
He leans back too. “I love a girl that doesn’t love me, and I can’t seem to do anything but fuck relationships up, even if I try and move on. Shit just isn’t going right. I am fucking a heap of shit up.”
Oh.
Poor Rainer.
“I understand that,” I admit.
“Couldn’t see you fucking anything up, sweetheart.”
I smile at him. “Then you don’t know me. I’m very good at fucking things up.”
He chuckles. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“I better pee and then get back inside or they’ll freak out that I’m dead or something.”
Rainer nods. “Yeah, I better get back to it.”
He waves a hand and I scurry off to the toilet, while he waits. When I’m out, we enter the bar again. Just as I step through the doors to the bar, I stumble a little. Rainer catches me. “Whoa there, slow down.”
He keeps his arm around my waist as he leads me further in, no doubt scared that I’ll trip and land on my face. We enter the crowd of people, but I skid to an abrupt halt when I see the last person I would have thought would come into a bar like this. It’s Max. He’s standing with two men, eyes burning into me. I shift uncomfortably, but I can feel his rage.
“What’s wrong?” Rainer asks.
I can’t answer; I just stare at Max whose eyes flick down to my short dress. His eyes go hard and his jaw tightens as he starts striding towards me. Shit. Rainer pulls me closer into his side, clearly seeing the massive man charging towards us.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Blue Belle?”
I flinch at his words—when he calls me that, it hits me right in the heart.
“I’m here dancing and having a good time with my friends, Max. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“None of my business.” He laughs so bitterly I flinch. “No, nothing you fucking do is my business, is it? That little girl with you, is she my fucking business?”
I flinch. “Don’t.”
“Don’t?” he roars. “Don’t be fucking furious that you’ve kept my fucking kid from me? Don’t be furious that you can’t even give me five fucking minutes to speak to you? Don’t be furious that you’re a selfish fucking cunt?”
Tears burst forth before I can stop them. I go to lunge forward, angry, so damned angry, but Rainer shoves me back.
“Get the fuck out of my bar,” he barks at Max.
“Who the fuck are you? The latest piece of ass?”
My tears come harder. He knows me. He knows I don’t sleep around, so his words hurt like hell.
“I own this bar and she’s my friend. Now watch your fuckin’ mouth.”
“Or what?” Max challenges.
Rainer puts me behind him and steps forward. By now there’s a good space around the two men, because people have moved back. Rainer gets in Max’s face, and barks, “Leave!”
Before I know what’s happening, Max throws a punch. Max has always been able to fight; he was born tough, and he will die tough. Not to mention he runs a fighting ring now.
Rainer stumbles backwards with the blow and I expect Max to throw another one and take Rainer down, like most of the men he has fought in his life. That doesn’t happen. Rainer bounces forward and drives a fist into Max’s jaw, and then the two of them are tumbling, fists flying, pained grunts echoing through the bar as the music is turned down.
“Stop!” I scream, rushing forward.
They don’t hear me. They just keep hitting, and beating, and drawing blood on each other. The two fight as if they’re in a ring, neither one of them backing down. Unable to take anymore, and realizing I can’t stop it, I turn and shove through the crowd. I run down the hall until I reach the backdoor and I shove through, panting and crying. I press my back against the cold brick and sob, leaning over and wrapping my hands around my stomach.
“Why?”
I hear this spat at me about five minutes later, and I jerk up to see Max standing in front of me, blood coming from his lip, eye swelling closed, fists bunched. Obviously it took a bit before they were separated. Poor Rainer, he’ll probably never let me in his bar again. I hope he’s not hurt.
“Why what?” I rasp.
“Why did you keep her from me?”
I flinch. “Why did you walk away when you saw her?”
Something dark comes across his face. “I asked you a question. Answer it.”
I stand up straight. “No, Max, because I don’t owe you an answer. You made your choices back then, and I made mine. I did what I had to do. You were an alcoholic, a gambler, and you were dangerous. There was no way I was subjecting her to that.”
His eyes flash with anger and he steps forward, pressing my back against the wall. “You do owe me a fucking answer, because that’s my fucking child!” he bellows into my face.
“Don’t you dare get in my face,” I spit, reaching over and shoving him back. He doesn’t move. He’s like a giant stone. “Back off!”
He doesn’t.
He leans down closer, panting in my face. “Are you fucking him?”
I blink. “I beg your pardon?”
“Are you fucking him?” he barks.
“What the hell would it matter if I am? You’ve been sticking your dick in random women since I left, so don’t you dare act like you’re higher than me right now.”
He grinds his teeth, and I can see the muscles in his jaw jumping as he does. He raises a hand and sticks it on the wall above my head, leaning down even closer. “You’re right. I have fucked other women. It’s been nothing more than emotionless screwing.”
That hurts.
Tears burn under my eyelids and I look away. He reaches out, grabbing my jaw and tilting my head back. “Why the fuck are you coming back into my life after this long, Blue Belle?” he rasps, studying my face. “Why the hell should it matter who I fuck?”
“It matters because I didn’t just get over what we had the way you did. It matters because I’ve been fighting for five fucking years to fall out of love with you. It matters because you are the only fucking man I’ve ever loved, and I wanted . . . I wanted you to be him again. I wanted to come back, to leave the nightmare of a past where it should be. I prayed you would be different, but you’re not, are you?”
He studies my face. “You don’t understand what happened back then, and if you did, you wouldn’t question any of this.”
“I don’t understand because you wouldn’t tell me!” I screech. “You shut down, you pushed me out, you fell out of love with me and—”
“I never stopped loving you!” he roars. “God dammit, Ana, I never fucking stopped loving you.”
I stare at him, so much hurt flooding through my body. “You told me . . . you said it to my face,” I croak.
“I wanted you to hate me, I wanted you to fucking leave so I stopped . . .”
“Stop what?” I scream.
“So I stopped seeing you break right in front of my eyes, piece by fucking piece.”
I reach up and try to slap hi
m, so angry. How dare he? How dare he make that choice for me? He made a conscious effort to push me away, to break my heart, and now he’s standing here telling me he did it for the better good? That he did it to protect me. That he still loves me. How fucking dare he?
“Don’t,” he hisses, jerking my fist to his chest and holding it there. “Don’t you hit me.”
“Or what?” I challenge. “What will you do, Max?”
“Ana, I’m warning you. Stop this.”
“Fuck you,” I scream. “Fuck you and everything you ever gave me. I wish I never laid eyes on you, Max. I wish I never fucking met you.”
My voice hitches on the last sentence and I drop my head.
“That’s not true,” he rasps. “You fucking know it’s not true.”
I don’t answer him.
He pushes me harder against the wall, his big body trapping mine in. I feel comfort, a strange protection I need so badly. I hate it. I don’t want to feel these things around him—I just want to stop loving him so I can move on with my life.
“I hate it,” he says, his voice low.
I look up at him. “You hate what?”
“The thought of his cock inside you. The thought of his lips on yours. The thought of his hands . . .”
“Don’t,” I whisper. “You gave that up. You . . . not me. You don’t get to be jealous about the idea of another man fucking me.”
He flinches, his entire body moving in one swift jerk. “Stop it.”
“Oh, you don’t like it?” I growl. “You don’t like the thought that another man is sliding his cock—”
“Enough!” he roars.
“No, fuck you,” I spit. “Fuck you, Max.”
He reaches over in a flash, curling his fist into my hair. “No fucking man touches what’s mine. Not now, not fucking ever.”
I open my mouth to protest but he slams his over mine. I’m shocked for a minute, and my entire body goes still. This does nothing to stop him. His mouth, his hot, hard mouth, moves over mine until I can’t help it. Desperation, hunger and a little alcohol take over and I kiss him back. I don’t do it softly; I shove my mouth angrily against his, wanting him to hurt, yet wanting to taste him at the same time.
He grunts, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I can taste a little blood, but I don’t care. I should care, but I don’t. I kiss him so hard, tangling my tongue with his, moaning and pressing my body against his. He’s my husband, God dammit; I deserve this. I need this. I want this. I can think of nothing else right now except jerking his jeans down, freeing his cock and letting him fuck me against this wall.
“Fuck me,” I gasp when he pulls his mouth from mine. “God dammit, fuck me, Max.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. He growls his approval and reaches down, hiking my dress up. He reaches for his jeans, jerks them down, and frees his cock. God, I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve dreamed of it. I’ve always loved having Max inside me; there’s never been a time when it’s been boring, or dull. Every time he fucks me, he makes it count. Even in my pain, even in my heartbreak, every time I thought of him inside me, my body would heat with need.
“Hard,” I growl as he lifts my leg and puts it around his waist. He jerks my panties aside. “Make it hard.”
“Jesus,” he grunts, wrapping his hand around his cock and pressing it to my entrance.
He thrusts in without hesitation, driving his cock as deep as he can get it. I haven’t been with another man in five years, so there’s a pleasurable sting that radiates through my sex as he fills me. “You fucking lied,” he rasps, fingers pinching my ass as he pulls me closer. “No cock has been in here since mine.”
“I didn’t lie,” I pant. “You assumed.”
“Fuck,” he hisses as he slides out, and drives his cock home again. “Sweet as I fuckin’ remember.”
He starts fucking me hard against the wall, so hard the bare skin on my back slides over the bricks until I can feel the painful frication as my skin begins to peel off. I don’t care. I clutch Max, digging my fingernails into his arms, feeling his bulging muscles. I kiss him, soft and hard, deep and gentle, gasping his name as he pounds into me.
It takes me less than five minutes to come, and when I do it’s explosive. I drop my head into his shoulder and cry his name, muffling it against his sweat-dampened shirt. He hisses, grunts and his fingers press into my hip so hard I know it’ll bruise. He starts thrusting harder and harder, our skin slapping, our bodies tangled in the best way, and then he lets out a long, quick breath mixed with a moan and his body goes still. I can feel every exquisite pulse as he comes inside me, milking his cock until there’s nothing left.
He releases me and I drop my leg, letting him slide from my depths. Warm heat runs down my leg, but I do nothing to stop it. I just pull my panties back in place and look up into the deadly black eyes of the man I love so fucking much it hurts. I want to go home with him, tuck myself into his big body like I used to, and feel the comfort he brings, but I can’t. The eyes staring down at me—they belong to a deadly fighter that I don’t know.
I feel as if I just fucked a stranger, and yet, I feel a familiarity that doesn’t come with random one-night stands. I’m so confused, my heart the most.
“I need,” I say, my voice trembling. “I should go.”
Max straightens himself up, and I just pull down my dress when Rainer comes outside followed by Pippa. Max makes a pissed off sound in his throat and pushes off the wall, stepping back. Pippa and Rainer both look at me, then at Max, and I see Pippa’s face flush. Yeah, I guess it was that obvious what we just did.
“What the fuck do you want?” Max grunts, running his fingers through his hair. “Round two?”
Rainer says nothing, but instead turns to me. His face is messed up like Max’s, except he has two black eyes instead of a split lip. He’s also got a deep-looking cut on his cheek. “You need a ride home?”
“I’ll take her,” Max grunts.
Say what?
No.
If Max knows where I live, then I’ll never be able to make the right choices for Immy. She needs to enter this slowly, not with him showing up demanding to see her.
“No,” I say, stepping towards Rainer. “I’ll go with him.”
Max glares at me, and it’s Pippa who steps forward, smiling shyly at him. “I’ll take her to save all argument, okay?”
“Thought you didn’t fucking know her well?” Max grunts at Pippa.
She crosses her arms. “I know her better now.”
I know Max helped Pippa a fair few months back, when she got into some trouble with an enemy of Tyke’s MC. When she put two and two together, and figured out who he was, they had a conversation about me, and Pippa claimed she knew me but not well. She didn’t want to give too much away.
“Whatever,” Max grunts, his eyes flicking to me. “Give me your number.”
“No,” I say, stepping closer to Rainer.
His eyes flash. “You don’t get to hide now, Anabelle. You give me your number or I’ll go and sit at your mother’s house until she gives it to me.”
Fucking big jerk.
I lift my phone out of my purse and he pulls one from his jeans pocket. I rattle off my number and he punches it in, then he sends a text my way. I save his number and then turn to Pippa. “Can we go?”
“Of course.”
“I want to see her, Ana,” Max calls as I start walking away.
I freeze and turn, staring at him. “That’s not your call to make, it’s mine and I honestly don’t know how to take all of this right now. You need to let me think about the best way to do this, for her.”
He crosses his arms. “I’ll see her.”
Jesus.
I turn and disappear with Pippa, but the entire drive home, all I can smell is my husband on me.
And I miss it. So much.
~*~*~*~
We get home around midnight. So far, Pippa hasn’t asked me a thing about what happened with Max, though I’m sure she
can figure it out. She said Rainer is fine, and assured me that everything would be well. I thank her as soon as we get in, and go straight to my bedroom. I text Tina and ask how Immy is going; she tells me she’s sound asleep and happy. Thank God.
I have a brief shower and then get into my PJs. I crawl into bed and stare up at the ceiling for a good long time, thinking about the night. Feeling Max inside me again was like experiencing him for the first time. I remember that so well—we were in the back of his truck when he took my virginity, lying on a blanket under the stars. It was perfect, and exactly how it should have been.
Tonight was rough, and hot, and I would do it all over again just to feel him that close, to breathe him in, to feel his body up against mine. At the thought, my body heats once more, and I find myself struggling to think about anything else. A tingle starts between my legs and it’s taking all my strength not to reach down and massage it out. I close my eyes, trying to distract myself, when my phone rings.
Sighing, I roll to my side and lift it off the bedside table, seeing Max’s number flashing on the screen. He’s calling me after what happened tonight? Why? I made it pretty clear I don’t want to talk to him. Still, I pick it up and roll to my back, answering. “I think we’ve said all that needs to be said.”
“Can’t stop thinking about your cunt wrapped around my dick.”
Well then, that isn’t what I expected. I lie in silent shock for a minute, not sure how to respond.
“I’m already hard for you again, Blue Belle.”
“Max,” I finally say, my voice giving me away. It’s thick and needy. “Why are you calling and telling me that?”
“Because I fucking need you.”
“What we just did was a—”
“Don’t you say the word mistake. Nothing we have done is a mistake.”
I snort. “Then you’re sadly mistaken.”
“Then you’re telling me you aren’t laying in your bed right now, pussy aching at the thought of what went down tonight?”
At his words, my pussy, the little betrayer, clenches.
“Max,” I rasp, because really, what am I going to say?
