Anguish

by Bella Jewel

  I swallow, darting my eyes around, looking anywhere but at him. I mean, I'm not denying there is some serious sexual tension between us, but I certainly didn’t want him hearing me going on about my sexual fantasies that included me mounting and riding him. There is only so much a man needs to know.

  I turn back to him after a few minutes, my cheeks pink, my voice stuck in my throat. Playing it cool, I put my hand on my hip and mutter, “What do you want?”

  He stares at me, saying nothing, just studying me with those intense brown eyes. I hate when he does that. He gives me the look that doesn't quite tell me how he's feeling.

  “You goin’ to be around tonight?”

  He wants to know if I'm going to be around tonight? What is that supposed to mean? Oh my God, does Mack think we're going to fuck? Oh, no way.

  “I’m going to see Josie tonight,” I say. It’s a lie, a total lie, but he doesn’t know that.

  He gives me a look that tells me he does, in fact, know that I’m lying.

  “Yeah, that's not goin’ to happen,” he says, his voice low and suddenly husky.

  Oh boy, time to get out of here, like now.

  I turn, preparing to get into the car, but his fingers curl around my arm and he hauls me back so hard I slam into his body, his chest to my spine. I shudder; I can’t help it. He’s hard . . . everywhere. I swallow, gathering my courage before pushing out of his arms and turning to face him fully.

  “Look, I have to go. It's time for Diesel’s sleep. He can’t miss it.”

  Mack’s eyes hold mine in an intense stare that seems to go on and on. I squirm beneath his gaze. It’s as if he knows all my secrets. Maybe he does. “What time will Diesel wake up?”

  I gape at him. I've never heard him use Diesel’s name, like, ever. He just calls him the baby or the child but he never, ever, ever refers to him by name. It takes me a moment to reply, but when I do my voice is low, and I won't lie, a little proud.

  “He wakes up around dinner time,” I say hoping this is the start, hoping this is where he comes in and acts like the dad I know he can be inside.

  He crosses his big arms across his chest, and something flickers in his expression, but he quickly smothers it.

  “Well, give him to Santana tonight,” he says, and my heart drops. “I want to spend some time,” he hesitates looking at me, his eyes intense, “discussing things.”

  Things? What things? Does he know about Gregor? My heartbeat picks up and I begin to struggle for air. No, he couldn't possibly know about Gregor. God, maybe he knows about Samuel. It’s possible. But what it’s probably about, which I hate to admit, is that I just announced to an entire biker club that I wanted to ride him.

  Ride. Him.

  “I’m thinking having dinner with Ash,” I lie.

  He cocks a brow. “Didn’t hire you to have dinner with Ash.”

  “So I can’t have a social life?”

  He narrows his eyes. “Never said that. But you’re on duty, it’s a weekday.”

  Fuck.

  “Well, she can come over for dinner, and—”

  “We’re talkin’,” he mutters, cutting me off.

  “About?” I squeak.

  He leans in close, getting in my space. “You’ll find out.”

  “Give me something,” I plead.

  He tilts his head towards my ear. “You can think about it on the ride home.”

  Oh. My. God.

  He totally just used my words against me. I was right, I was totally right. He wants to talk about my little sexual fantasies, and I don’t want to talk to him about my little sexual fantasies.

  “I have to call my best friend,” I cry, stepping back.

  “Then call her, and then we’ll talk.”

  “You don’t talk. You just growl.”

  His lips quirk, and then he murmurs, “That’s the point.”

  Then he’s gone. Gone. Leaving me standing there, terrified of heading home.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I put Diesel down for his nap as soon as I get home, then I pick up my phone and sit out on the patio. I need girl advice—Josie advice, to be specific. She’ll know what to do. She’ll know how to deal with this awkward Mack situation. If there’s even a situation.

  Of course there’s a damned situation. He now thinks I want him, and I’m nearly sure he’s going to approach me about it.

  I don’t know what I’ll say if he does.

  God.

  “Hello?”

  “Josie!” I cry, tucking my legs beneath me.

  “Jay, is everything okay?”

  “No.”

  Her voice comes out concerned. “What’s happening?”

  “Well, there’s this thing going down . . .”

  “Is Gregor there? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, no, everything is fine with Gregor. This is about Mack.”

  “Mack?”

  “You know¸ the biker I live with . . .”

  She’s silent for a minute, then she breathes. “Mack is a biker?”

  “Yes, Josie, pay attention.”

  “Okay, hang on, let me sit down.”

  “You’ll need to,” I advise. “It’s good.”

  “Right, I’m done. What have you done?”

  “Me?” I cry. “What makes you think it’s me?”

  She laughs. “It’s always you.”

  She’s right, dammit.

  “Well, I was talking to the girls from the club, and they kind of pushed out of me that I’m kind of, well, into Mack . . .”

  “Into?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Are you banging him?”

  “Josie!” I cry.

  “Explain yourself.”

  “I just said it to please them.”

  “Said what?”

  My cheeks burn. “That I wanted to, um, ride him?”

  “Ride him?” she squeaks. “Like . . . load up the saddle and fuck his gorgeous brains out?”

  I snort. “Not quite that, ah, dramatic.”

  She giggles. “So, what happened then?”

  “He heard me.”

  Her giggle turns into laughter. “Oh my God, that’s brilliant.”

  “It’s not. Now he said he wants me home so he can ‘talk’ to me tonight. He’s going to ask me to fuck him, isn’t he?”

  Her laughing turns hysterical.

  “It’s not funny, Josie!” I cry.

  “It’s hilarious. I can’t wait to see your face when he asks you to jump on.”

  “There’ll be no jumping on,” I snap. “I’m his nanny.”

  “Ohhhh, sexy nanny.”

  “I hate you.”

  She tsks. “You do not.”

  I sigh. “No, I don’t.”

  “You have to tell me what happens . . .”

  “I will.”

  “Unless, of course, he’s got you pinned beneath him.”

  “Josie,” I warn.

  “Drilling your brains out.”

  “Drilling?” I giggle.

  “A man like that drills, baby!”

  I laugh. “I got to go. I’m starving and need to start dinner before Diesel wakes.”

  “Okay, make sure you call me.”

  “I will, later.”

  I flip the phone closed and push to my feet, heading into the kitchen. I open the fridge door and stare inside. Hmmmm. I’m not the best cook in the world—okay, another lie, I suck. I can make toast, which is considered somewhat of a success, but aside from that, zilch. I suck.

  I pull open the drawers until I find the take-out menu.

  He’ll never know.

  ~*~*~*~

  MACK

  Ride me.

  Ride me.

  She fuckin’ said it, out loud.

  She wants to ride me.

  Fuck.

  I pace up and down Maddox’s office. If I go home and I tell her everything I want to tell her, I’m startin’ something co
mplicated. I’m not entirely sure Jaylah is the kind of girl that just fucks, but hell if I don’t want to ask her anyway. I’d love nothing more then to have her in my bed, night after night, fuckin’ her sweet body over and over.

  But then there’s the connection . . .

  A girl like her, they have one.

  Guys like me, we don’t.

  The shrill sound of my phone ringing jerks me out of my thoughts of screwing my nanny. I stare down at the screen and growl. Private number. Again. I know who it is, I fuckin’ know. I just don’t want to be a part of it. He won’t stop, though. No until he gets hold of me, and gets what he wants.

  Revenge.

  Closing my eyes, feeling my jaw tic, I answer it.

  “Yeah?”

  “You finally answer.”

  His thick accent fills my ears and I flinch.

  “Benito.”

  “Miakoda,” he murmurs. “It’s been too long.”

  “Not long enough, Brother.”

  A low laugh. “I’m surprised you still refer to me as your brother, after everything.”

  “Can’t change facts.”

  “No.” He hesitates. “We have unfinished business, Miakoda.”

  “Mack,” I growl.

  “Such a modern name.”

  “What do you want, Benito?”

  “What do I want?” He laughs low. “What does Benito want?”

  “Get the fuck on with it.”

  “I want to make you pay, Miakoda. I want to make you pay for taking my wife and then fuckin’ killin’ her.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” I hiss.

  “But you did, because she loved you. She never stopped.”

  “She left me.”

  “She left because she was afraid, but she loved you. Now, Miakoda, I believe you have something that isn’t yours.”

  Diesel.

  “Pretty sure it’s mine,” I snarl.

  “As am I, brother, considering I’m sterile. However,” his voice drops low, “she was my fuckin’ wife and you, Brother, stole her from me and then got her killed. Now you’ve got the child. The only thing left.”

  “You didn’t love her,” I growl, low. “You laid your fuckin’ hands on her.”

  “She was my wife!” he roars.

  “And I was the last one to fuck her.”

  Low blow. I know it. He knows it.

  “You’ll pay, Miakoda. Your son will pay. Everything you fucked up in my life will be returned to you in doubles.”

  “Is that a threat?” I growl.

  “No,” he whispers. “It’s a promise.”

  Then he flips the phone closed.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I’m serving up Chinese when Mack storms in.

  I’ve been preparing all afternoon for this so-called ‘talk,’ and so it surprises me when he storms right past me.

  “Hey!” I call.

  “Not interested.”

  Seriously?

  I watch him disappear down the hall and my mouth drops open. No, seriously? He made a big point of telling me I had to be here for our ‘talk,’ and now he’s storming to his room.

  Fucking moody bastard.

  As if he heard his dad come in, I hear Diesel stir. It starts with a small whine, and quickly turns into a hungry screech. I close up the Chinese containers before I go to him. Apparently I’m not quick enough, because Mack comes storming out.

  “Stop worryin’ about the food and get the baby!”

  “Jesus,” I say, dropping the container and walking past him. “You need to get laid or something.”

  He mutters something under his breath as I disappear down the hall. I rush into Diesel’s room and lift him out of his crib. His little hands are waving about, making little fists that fly in different directions. His face is red, and he’s right into his crying fit.

  “Hey,” I soothe. “It’s all right, let’s get your dinner.”

  I rock him in my arms as I rush out. Mack is on the couch, staring at the football on the television, a bowl of food in his hand.

  “Really?” I cry.

  He turns, stares at me, and then, as if dismissing me, looks back towards the television. I lift a spoon and hurl it across the room, hitting the coffee table. I expect him to bark something cruel, or growl, but instead, he smiles. It’s only small, but it’s a smile. My lips twitch in response, and with so little words, I feel like we’ve had our first real moment.

  “Come on, baby,” I coo to Diesel. “Let’s get you fed.”

  I prepare his bottle and then walk over, dropping down onto the couch beside Mack. I place the bottle into his mouth and he starts sucking angrily. Hungry little champion. While he eats, I run my fingers over his soft, baby hair and smile down at him; I can’t help it. When I look up, Mack is staring at me. He has a look on his face, but it quickly disappears when he sees that I’m watching him.

  I think, underneath all the stone, Mack is deep.

  “I didn’t pin you for a football fan,” I say, staring at the television.

  “I’m not.”

  “So you’re watching it because . . .”

  “Nothin’ else to do.”

  I turn back to him. “What about all your women?”

  He snorts lightly. “You threw poop at the last one.”

  I laugh softly. “You’re right. My bad.”

  His lip twitches.

  “You don’t hang around places for long, do you?”

  He looks to me. “Why do you say that?”

  “You’re restless. I can see it. My guess, this is the first house you’ve had in a long time.”

  He studies my face before answering, “Yeah, I’m usually on the road.”

  “Is Diesel the reason you’re here?”

  He stares briefly at Diesel, and there is definitely something in his eyes. It makes me want to push—in fact, I think it’s the best thing I can do. I make it my mission in that moment to make sure Mack is forced to spend more time with his son. I just have to be clever about it.

  “No,” he finally answers, turning back to the television. “I’m here for Maddox.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s trouble.”

  “Trouble?”

  “Club trouble.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  We’re silent for a moment, and I honestly don’t know what to say. Swallowing my pride, I decide it’s the right thing to apologize for today. It was rude of me to be so bold; he’s probably horrified.

  “Listen, Mack, about today,” I start.

  He turns to me, his eyes intense. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Okay, not what I expected.

  “It’s just . . .”

  He stands, and my entire body jerks as shame rises over me. He doesn’t want to talk about it. I can’t blame him, but now I feel like a complete jerk. He looks down at me, his eyes scanning my face, then he murmurs, “Night.”

  Shit.

  That was a fail.

  ~*~*~*~

  “So, what happened?” Josie asks.

  I peer into Diesel’s room. I’ve put him down for the night and so far he’s been quiet. I’m thankful, because quite frankly, I’m exhausted. Who knew babies were so much damned work? He’s worth it, though, and it makes my heart ache to think his mother, whoever she was, is missing out on this. Even worse, it’s a shame Mack is missing out.

  “Nothing,” I say, closing Diesel’s door and tiptoeing to my room. I drop down onto the bed and cross my legs.

  “Nothing?” she says, her voice low.

  “Yep, nothing. He came home in a bad mood, we had an awkward conversation and he went to bed.”

  “Oh, my.” She giggles.

  “It’s not funny, Josie. I feel like a complete idiot.”

  “Maybe he thought you were uncomfortable.”

  “I sat beside him,” I point out. “I even brought it up.”

  “W
ell, maybe he’s in his room right now, waiting to see if you’ll come in and rip his clothes off.”

  I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “He’s not waiting for me.”

  “How do you know?” she pushes.

  “Ah, because he practically ran away from me. He’s horrified.”

  “Well, you did kind of announce to his entire club that you wanted to ride him.”

  “I was joking!” I cry.

  She giggles again. “Still . . .”

  “Yeah, I know,” I cry, throwing myself backwards dramatically. “I’m like the nanny from hell, and he’s probably embarrassed of me.”

  “Or,” she says, her voice chipper, “he’s in there thinking about you, right now . . .”

  I laugh softly. “No, honey, he’s definitely not.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Ack,” I cry. “Because I’m totally, like, a stalker nanny.”

  She laughs loudly. “That’s an actual thing.”

  “Right? I’m sure I fall into that category.”

  Her voice drops low. “You don’t watch him sleep, do you?”

  I giggle. “No.”

  “Then you’re good.”

  I’m about to answer, but my voice is cut short when the most beautiful, sultry, sexy voice comes travelling through the door and into my room. Mack. Singing. I gasp, the words stuck in my throat. His voice, it’s like heaven. Not all husky, but not all soft either, just the perfect in between.

  “Oh my God,” I breathe. “Josie, do you hear that?”

  She’s silent, and then she whispers, “Is that Mack?”

  I nod, and then shake my head because she can’t see me nodding. “Yes.”

  “Oh my God,” she cries. “He sings. He sings!”

  “And plays the guitar,” I whisper, mesmerized.

  “Is he singing Eric Church’s ‘Wrecking Ball’?”

  “Yes,” I croak. “Oh God, I think my panties just got wet.”

  “Mine too. You should totally go in there and jump him. Make him lick every part of your—”

  “Josie!” I snap, cutting her off. “You’re ruining the moment.”

  “Go and stand by the door, get your stalker on and listen to him. Oh, man. Take me with you, I need to hear more.”

  “Gonna ride you baby,” Mack’s voice travels through the door and both Josie and I squeal.