by Andi Rhodes
I close my eyes as well and the first few tears slide down my cheeks. I wrap my hands around his neck and kiss him back, giving my own unspoken apologies.
I’m sorry I left.
I’m sorry it happened.
I’m sorry I’m one of them.
My back lifts off the wall, and Fender carries me, but I don’t open my eyes to see where we’re going. He shifts my weight to free a hand for the door, but his lips never leave mine. I hope he never stops kissing me again.
He carries me up a flight of stairs and then white noise and voices fill the air. We walk through another door and are outside. I finally open my eyes when we take the first few steps away from the large building we were just in. Probably the clubhouse.
“Where are we going?” I ask, out of breath.
He shifts me again and pecks me a few more times. “Home.”
My eyes widen, and I stiffen in his hold because I think he’s talking about taking me back to the Black Savages, but he walks us up to a cabin back behind some trees. Home. His home.
I lean into his neck and smile against him so he won’t see it. I was scared he’d take me back to my family, to safety. I’m fucking crazy.
I kiss his neck then work my way back to his lips. He pauses kissing me to open the front door, but I don’t let him break away. It isn’t until we’re inside and he’s prying me off him that I stop and let him toss me onto the bed.
I bounce only once before he’s on top of me, his mouth latching onto my neck and his hands travelling up my sides.
He slips his hand under my bra and takes one of my puckered nipples between his thumb and finger. I bite my lip and throw my head back with a groan when he pinches down hard.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” Fender asks, winding a hand around my back to unhook my bra.
I peer at him through half-hooded lids and wiggle to help him pull my jeans off. I’m left in only my panties.
“You’re mine, Charlie. I’m not letting you leave again. Ever. Do you understand me?”
“Fender…”
“No.” I’m taken aback by the intensity in his tone, the ferocity of it. He sounds angry, and I think maybe I imagined the tenderness coming from him only minutes ago. “You might not have done what we took you for, but you’re still a prisoner. You’re my prisoner. You aren’t leaving again.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
“Shut up.” He fists my hair and yanks me to his lips. The kiss comes so hard and so fast, I don’t have time to respond to it before he shoves me back and flips me over.
The sound of my panties ripping fills the room, and a thick finger plunges into me a moment later. I suck in a sharp breath and curl my nails into the edge of the mattress. It’s been months since anyone has been inside me, and four years since a man has been able to make me come. Fuck, I need this.
Fender pumps a digit into me, and it feels like the friction he’s making ignites a fire that travels to my clit. I push my ass back, hitting his palm, and he chuckles before adding another digit and sliding his other hand around my front and finding my clit. “Is this what you want?”
I moan as he strokes my bundle of nerves with an expert touch, and my shoulders shake with a shiver.
Every thrust of his fingers sends me closer and closer to the edge until I’m dangling off a cliff. I want to fall, but Fender’s holding onto my fingertips. I push my hips back, but he lets up the pressure and holds me at the point just before I explode.
“Fender!”
“What do you say?” he taunts, heat and amusement in his tone.
I bite my lip and push my hand down my front, but he’s blocking me from my clit. My body is wound so tight with tension, I swear I might break.
“Beg for it.”
“Please!”
“Please what?”
“Please, Fender, make me come.”
He pulls his fingers from me and runs his hand over my back before shoving my face into the pillow. His lips press to my lower back. “Good girl.”
I gasp when he lifts my hips and splays me open. Cool air touches my slick folds, but it only lasts a second before Fender’s warm tongue slides into me.
My mouth drops open in a moan, and my grip on the mattress tightens while his tongue fucks me and he rubs his thumb on my clit.
I clench my eyes shut and scream into the pillow when my muscles ripple and I come on Fender’s face. He doesn’t stop then. He starts lapping at me like a hungry dog, and I’m building up to another orgasm when he finally pulls away. He drops me to my knees, and I look back to see him violently ripping off his clothes.
He climbs behind me and weaves a hand through my hair. He yanks my head back as he slams into me, and I cry out as my eyes burn. It’s been way too fucking long.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he grunts as he ruts into me.
He’s fucking me so hard it feels like he’s splitting me open, so I can’t do what he’s asking even if I wanted to. My mouth hangs open, and I’m frozen like this.
He pulls harder on my hair, and my neck bends to the point of pain. “Tell me you’re mine, Charlie.”
He fucks me harder like his frustration is fueling him, and I suck in a deep breath and try to think through the fog.
“You first,” I manage to get out.
He slows a moment, nearly pausing, but then he lets go of my hair and picks up his pace. My face falls against the pillow, and I suck in sharp breaths. I sway my hips to meet each of his thrusts, and when my second orgasm comes, I clench my jaw so hard I think my teeth might shatter.
Fender’s close. I can tell by the desperation in his grunts and thrusts. It’s crazy how familiar this feels. How many things I can remember now that we’re here. Like the scent of our sex and the feel of sweat dripping onto my back. The way his pillow smells of him, and how it feels to inhale deeply with my face in it.
Fender slides a hand up my stomach and cups one of my tits. He pumps into me with several merciless thrusts before he pauses and grunts as he fills me.
His heavy, warm breath skates over my shoulders, and his fingers digging into me relax. He pulls out and collapses beside me, pulling me into him as he does.
I roll over to face him and stare into his half-hooded eyes.
“I missed you,” he whispers, smoothing my hair back and then tugging me closer possessively.
I give a small smile and kiss his lips. When I pull back, his eyes are closed, and he doesn’t open them. I let my gaze drift over the vein protruding from his neck, down his collarbone, and to his pec where the infinity tattoo rests next to his club’s symbol. My heart drops into my stomach, and I reflexively touch my wrist. I thought he would have covered that up by now.
I press my ear to the tattoo on his chest and listen to his heart beating out of control.
“I missed you too.”
Chapter Twelve
With her here, so close, I feel lighter than I have in years, and inexplicably heavier.
Fender
“So, now what?”
I peel my eyes open and come face to face with a pair of green irises staring back at me. Charlie’s dark hair frames her face, and with her head above me like it is, it teases my chest. It took hours for my heartbeat to slow last night, but it has yet to return to normal.
“I dunno.” I shrug, knowing I need to give her a better answer than that but not sure if she’s on the same page.
Charlie’s eyes narrow, and her body tenses, even as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in a gesture that I recognize as insecurity and frustration. Sure, we’ve fucked, but we’ve both learned the hard way that sex isn’t going to hold two people together. Especially when those two people were raised to hate each other.
I cup her cheek with my hand, and her palm covers it, seemingly to hold it in place. The infinity symbol tattoo on her wrist taunts me, reminds me that there was a time when nothing else mattered. Not our clubs’ rivalry, not a complicate
d past. There was no death between us, not to mention betrayal, heartache, and anger. Four years ago, things were simpler… sort of.
“Forget it,” Charlie grumbles as she shoves my hand away from her face and pushes herself away from me.
I snatch her arm and roughly pull her back while sitting up to fuse my lips with hers. It takes a few agonizing moments for her to react, to return the kiss at all, but when she does, it feels like home. I thrust my fingers into her hair and hold her face steady while our tongues tangle.
“Some things never change,” she mumbles when we break the kiss.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
Charlie extricates herself from my arms and scoots to the side of the bed. She draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, almost as if to shield herself from me. My stomach twists at the action, a mixture of frustration and fury. I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my back to her.
“Why do you have to be so goddamn difficult?”
I stand and a smug grin tugs the corner of my lips up when her sharp intake of breath reaches my ears. I’m naked and I know she’s seeing all the new ink I’ve gotten over the last few years. I can’t help but wonder if she’s noticed the one that has her name hidden in it.
“I, uh… wow,” she says on an exhaled breath.
I pick up my discarded jeans from last night and tug them up my legs, leaving them open at the waist. I turn around to face her, and the heat in her expression makes me grateful I did because my dick hardens and seems to point at her like a heat seeking missile.
I cross my arms over my chest, enjoying the flush of her skin as her eyes travel over my body like a physical caress.
“Keep that up and we’re not gonna make it out of this fucking room today.”
Charlie shifts to her knees and crawls across the bed until she reaches the edge. Her arms stretch out, and she wraps her hands around my biceps to pull me closer. I can’t help but let her. I’ve missed her, and while I no longer know how to be the guy she once knew, I do know how to let sex do my talking.
A growl escapes me, and she moves her hands to my chest to stop my advance. When I do, she lets her arms fall to her sides and plops down on her ass. Confusion swirls around me. One minute, she’s doing everything to invite me in, and the next she’s putting up barriers. It’s fucking infuriating.
“Fender, can we talk?”
“About what?” I ask, suspicion dripping from my tone.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Anything… everything.”
“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”
“No, I guess it doesn’t. It’s just…”
“What, Charlie? Just fucking spit it out.”
She takes a deep breath and turns her head to stare at the wall. When she releases the breath, she returns her attention to me.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be out of that… well, whatever that room was, but why am I?” She pins me with her stare, and I feel exposed in a way I hadn’t when we were fucking. “It’s like a flip switched. One minute you hate me and the next you’re jumping my bones.”
I drop my chin to my chest and let out a sigh. I don’t exactly know how to explain it to her. All I know is I’ve spent years hating her, wishing I’d never let her in my life, and it took an hour, an actual set up by the Black Savages to make me realize that maybe I’d been wrong. Rather than go into all of that, I decide to fall back on an age-old explanation used by MC’s all over the place.
“You know I can’t discuss club business.”
“Oh, bullshit,” she exclaims as she shoots off the bed and gets to her feet.
I turn away from her and walk to my dresser. “Don’t. Don’t do that. You of all people know how it is.” I rummage through my clothes until I find what I’m looking for. “Here,” I toss a black cotton tee at her. “Put this on.”
She holds the tee in front of her and scowls before huffing out a breath and pulling it over her head. The garment hangs down to mid-thigh, and my chest squeezes at the sight of her with the Infinite Motor’s logo across her tits. Even when I’d done everything I could to bury the memory of her, I hadn’t been able to completely let go. Our matching tattoos would forever be a part of us, and I had to go and link the symbol to my fucking business.
“Put your jeans on,” I demand. “I wanna take you somewhere.”
I don’t wait for her to do as she’s told. I make my way to the adjoining bathroom and take a leak. When I return to the bedroom, Charlie’s standing there, fully dressed. The Infinite Motors tee is pulled to the side at her waist and tied in a knot, exposing a hint of tanned flesh just above the waistband of her skintight jeans. Instantly, I’m hard, harder than I was earlier.
“Where are we going?” she asks as I grab her hand and tug her out of the house and down the steps.
There’s laughter in her voice and I realize, in that moment, that I’d do anything to be able to hear that laugh every day for the rest of my life, especially knowing I put it there.
“You’ll see.”
When we reach the garage and I throw the door open, Charlie digs in her heels. I glance at her, unsure of how to read her expression. Her eyes are wide, and her hand is covering her mouth. She’s either shocked or pissed, neither of which I’m completely comfortable with.
“What? You really thought I’d leave it in the fucking mall parking lot?” I ask, hoping it’s shock she’s feeling. At least that won’t necessarily result in a fight.
“I, uh, I don’t know what I expected.” She takes the last few steps toward her bike and lifts a leg to straddle it. Her lips tilt into a smile, and she beams at me from the leather seat.
“Okay.” I draw the word out. “At least you’re smiling.”
I straddle my own bike and start the engine. Charlie does the same and we both rev ‘em up, letting the roar echo off the walls. There’s nothing better than a metal beast you know you have the power to control. Pussy maybe, depending on the chick. Charlie’s pussy? Definitely better.
“Follow me. It’s not too far.”
I pull out of the garage, and she’s close behind me. I lead her off of Soulless Kings’ property and toward the Coastal Highway. We used to ride up and down the coast for hours. When was the last time she did this? Did she ride where she’d been? Shit, where had she been?
Thirty minutes later, we reach the spot, the place I want her to see. I haven’t even brought any of my brothers here, and for a moment, I feel like I’m being disloyal to them. Charlie may not have set us up all those years ago, but she’s still the Black Savages’ princess and sharing anything with her that I don’t share with them seems wrong somehow.
We park our bikes and stretch our legs. I walk to the edge of the cliff and look out at the ocean below, not for the first time feeling like I’m somehow insignificant in this big world.
“This is incredible.”
Charlie stands next to me and takes in the same scenery. With her here, so close, I feel lighter than I have in years, and inexplicably heavier. We have a lot to talk about, to catch up on, which is why I brought her here, to the place I go when I have a lot on my mind.
I need Charlie, more than I’ve ever needed anyone, but I also recognize that we don’t know each other anymore. Not the people we are now. Suddenly, my palms are sweating and every nerve ending buzzes with apprehension.
My next move is either going to be the smartest thing I’ll ever do or the one thing in my life that I’ll always regret. I turn to face Charlie and stare at her until she faces me. I force a smile, even though it feels stupid. I feel stupid.
Questions dance in her eyes, and she tilts her head when I don’t speak. After a few deep breaths and a fucking mental pep-talk, I push the words past my lips.
“Hey. I’m Chris, but the ladies call me Fender.”
Chapter Thirteen
For all of the changes he’s made, for all of the years he’s grown older, I
still feel the same.
Charlie
Fender’s crooked smile draws my eyes, and they drift to the slight discoloration on his canine. Half of it is fake, and I remember it catching my eye the first night I met him, as well. The first time he said that exact line to me.
I cover a hand over my mouth and snort. I try to suppress a laugh, but I don’t last long before I’m clutching my stomach, which is now aching from my laughter.
His lips tic and after a moment, he laughs with me. “What, too cheesy?”
“No.” I shake my head and wipe moisture from under my eye. “No, it’s exactly something you would do.”
I mean that… I think. He looks just like the old Fender right now with his sexy, but almost boyishly cute half-grin and his gray eyes that don’t look quite so hard. He looks so much like him that I can forget for a moment that that version is gone. I guess I don’t really know him anymore, and maybe that’s his point.
I hold out my hand. “I’m Charlotte. The guys call me Charlotte.”
He takes my hand and shakes. “Charlotte,” he coos, almost exactly as he did the night we met. “No offense, but you don’t look like a Charlotte.”
“Oh?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, more like a Charlie. I think I’ll call you that.”
“How do you know you’ll get the chance? You might not ever see me again.”
He smiles, and unlike that night, it’s a little sad. “I’ll take my chances.”
The words are exactly the same as they were when we first met, but everything else is different. Not better or worse, just… different.
Slowly, my smile falls and I rest my hand in my lap. Water splashes against rock beneath us, and I move my gaze to watch. It’s beautiful out here. Chaotic with the waves crashing and then calm when the water eases back out into the ocean.
“Where did you go for all those years, Charlie? What happened to you?”
What happened to me? Nothing. I spent four years chasing things that weren’t there and wondering what if. For all of the changes he’s made, for all of the years he’s grown older, I still feel the same. I want to tell him this, but I answer his first question instead.
