None of it matters anymore, though.
We’re at Ruthless tonight. It’s not uncommon for the whole club to pile in here when we’re all in town.
It’s now a Hellions owned bar so it’s cheap booze and a space where outsiders will stay in line. Once upon a time it wasn’t.
That was then and this is now.
I have to remind myself of this often. This place isn’t just any bar. For a long time, I refused to come here. While I knew nothing bad would happen, so much had already occurred here. Things my mother never wanted me to know. Things that created the unbreakable bond my dad and step-dad have today. Things I wish hadn’t happened, but in the very same breath, even my mother is grateful for now. Back then, she didn’t want me to know. In time, though, I learned her story. Mercy truly was no friend to my mother. As a child with questions that had no answers, my subconscious saw this building as bad juju, plain and simple.
Except, in the end, the domino effect of what happened to her, led me to be the man I am today. The kind of man who knows when he has a good thing and doesn’t let it go.
Which is why it kills me to be so far from her. Yesnia should be here in Catawba.
Is she? Nope. She’s in Chicago moving on with her life, and I’m left empty.
I’m stuck waiting.
My life on this continual hold because I may not have every answer to every situation, but I know what I got with her. That kind of spark isn’t found with anyone or anywhere. Does that make me some lovesick fool? Yup. I’m that fucking asshole who’s pussy-whipped by a pussy I tasted for a matter of months before she sent my ass away.
Family over everything, she said.
Family is all I have to count on.
I look around me and I get lost in my thoughts.
The place looks nothing like it did when I was a kid waiting on my mom to get off work or for Gigi to pick me up so my mom could work without her son hanging out at the bar. When I was little, Mom did what she had to in order to keep food in my belly. Sometimes that meant dragging me to the bar until my grandmother could pick me up.
It was far from perfect, but my mom made the best of our situation. My mom put me and Gigi above everything because that’s what family does.
It’s still small, but fresh paint, new floors, and opening up the space has done a lot for it.
This building changed everything for my mom and me. Both bad and good.
Living in a small town like we do, people, in general, take for granted that nothing will happen. Not here, they think it will never happen to them, or not here in this town.
Except it does, and it did.
I was six when I met Andy “Shooter” Jenkins. He saved my mom in this very bar. And he’s been a staple in my life ever since. Who knows what would have happened to my mom if Shooter hadn’t walked in at the exact moment he did. He found her pinned to the wall being violated by a member of the Desert Ghosts MC. In the blink of an eye, the Ghosts became Enemy Number One. In a desperate attempt to ensure my mom had the full protection of the entire Hellions MC, Shooter claimed her when my own dad would not. It’s an unbelievable story, but it’s their story. Fate stepped in and took them both on a ride full of family, love, and an unbreakable bond. I take a long drag from my beer as the moment I met him invades.
“Why are you here, mister?” I ask Shooter as I think about breakfast and pray Momma doesn’t make me eat oatmeal again. I hate oatmeal and she thinks I need to eat the gooey stuff every morning so I can grow big and strong. I don’t tell her, but look at Popeye the Sailor Man. All that spinach only gives him muscles, it doesn’t give him a better brain not to get into it with Brutus in the first place. I don’t like spinach either, but thankfully, Gigi doesn’t let Mom force me to eat too much of the green stuff.
Shooter studies me before answering. “I’m a friend of your mom’s.”
My brows draw together as my face sets firmly in place. “Momma don’t have friends. She don’t need friends. She’s got me and Gigi. That’s all she needs. You can leave and don’t look back.”
I turned from him and left the living room. I don’t remember all the details, but I remember walking away uneasy. Not because of Shooter, but because I was a six-year-old curious kid. What will forever stand out to me was I knew my mom was struggling; even without the details, I sensed it.
She worked crazy hours at Ruthless. She always worked, though. She gave everything she had to give to me and my grandmother. This was something more. No matter the hour, Mom always checked in with me. Then, I spent two nights in a row with Gigi which never happened. After that, each day left me wondering where I would sleep that night. Everything was so different in the blink of an eye. Momma cried a lot, suddenly she was home more, and she looked beaten up. I was standoffish to see Shooter here as I watched my mother hurt, so I was far from welcoming. It was all too much to process for me as a young kid. I had never really had a male role model in my life until Shooter.
I didn’t understand what it meant for Mom to work so much. I simply didn’t know any better. I didn’t even realize how poor we were until I was older. I simply remember I went to sleep at Gigi’s house until Mom came in the middle of the night to pick me up. Sometimes, Gigi had appointments, and she would pick me up from Ruthless when she finished so my mom could work. My whole schedule was back and forth between school, Mom, and Gigi. This bar was our life, even though I didn’t get it at the time. Then something inside Mom changed. She broke, and Shooter was around to pick up the pieces. That’s when I was happy with him. In time, my mom was smiling, relaxing, and actually enjoying life.
Mornings were always my struggle. Until Shooter.
He made breakfast fun. It was like he got me without even having to spend a bunch of time with me. We clicked immediately. Maybe it was because I was desperate to have a dad, or as I like to think, it’s because Shooter is Shooter and he’s the kind of man who reads a situation and dives in head first.
He also got Mom out of this bar, which meant I could have a normal sleep schedule. I remember thinking I had to be the man even at six years old. I had to be strong for my mom and my Gigi. Shooter came along, and suddenly, I could be a kid.
Everything was a struggle during that time until Shooter.
“Hello!” Hawk says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “Dude, why do you keep checking out on me?”
“Need a transport,” I mutter.
“Bullshit,” Shooter says sliding onto the bar stool on my other side. “You’ve taken every run that’s popped up for months now. No more.”
“Shooter, don’t.” I throw my hand up and press off from the bar and stool. “I’m in no mood.”
The walls feel like they are closing in. I need a transport. Don’t they see? I need the open road. I need to stay busy. I can’t do this with him. I can’t do this with anyone right now.
Walking outside, I leave and I don’t look back as I climb on my Harley Davidson CVO Street Glide. This bike hasn’t even hit showrooms yet. Somehow my dad and Shooter paid out the ass to someone in Harley at the actual distribution plant for this unique ride. It carries one hundred seventeen cubic inches of power, the most in a stock engine on any motorcycle. The entire CVO line will hit locations across the world in the coming months.
Climbing on the beast, I reach over and slip on my helmet. Cranking the bike, I let the steady tick of the engine soothe my soul. Every step I make to leave is like second nature. When I’m not driving a truck for Crews Transports, I’m on my Harley. Popping the clutch, I roll backward out of my parking spot before twisting the throttle and peeling out from Ruthless.
Hell, I was riding a motorcycle before I was driving a car. Shooter and my biological dad Rex had me on a dirt bike before I learned to ride a bicycle without training wheels. I guess it’s in my veins. Drexel “Rex” Crews is my dad. He’s also the Catawba Hellions Club President. His relationship with my mom is complicated when you look into their past. They have overcome it all, and he’s mar
ried to Lux, living what he calls the good life.
Just like my dad, the only thing that calms the beast inside of me is the feel of the open road with a bike under me. The blacktop passes under me in a blur as I twist the throttle and ride on.
Catawba, North Carolina is not a big city. Just an hour from Charlotte, it’s a place to raise a family in the quiet country. The roads are rarely crowded, and this holds true as I head out onto the open highway.
The wind hits my face, and I relish the feeling.
Freedom.
There is this beast inside of me begging to be turned loose. Since she sent me away, I have been a caged animal. I feel the ghost traces of her fingertips tracing my lips. Twisting the throttle, I wish I could outrun the memories.
“Kiss me, biker,” she whispers from her bed.
Taking a deep breath, I press my lips to hers. Yesnia reaches up and once again removes my hair from the band holding it back. As she opens her mouth to mine, my hair falls around us. Her hands pull me closer as I deepen our kiss. Her tongue dances with mine as I hover over her in bed.
She’s here.
She’s alive.
She’s mine.
Slowly, delicately, I pull away. She traces her thumb over my lips. The feeling is soft, gentle, and a connection I crave.
“You’re really here, Axel,” she whispers. “I thought you were an angel.”
I smirk, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be if you keep kissing me like this.”
She gives a soft smile. “I should have called you.”
I don’t move. I wish she had called me. I wish I could have saved her from this pain.
“How did you know to come?”
“I told you if you needed me, I would be here. You needed me, I’m here. The how’s, the why’s don’t matter right now. You need to heal.”
The pain of what she endured hits me like a punch to the gut. She’s healed completely now; well, physically that is. Being shot by your own uncle tends to stay with a person in a bad way. I wasn’t there when it happened, I only know I got a call she was asking for me. I did what any man like me does and I dropped everything to be there for the woman who owns my soul.
Javier Almanza didn’t know who he could trust after that. I imagine I would react in a similar manner, but then again, I don’t have the kind of family, the kind of life where an Uncle would shoot his own blood.
Javier never thought Maricio Dominguez would hurt Yesnia.
A critical mistake.
One that almost cost him his daughter he was still getting to know.
Never, ever think your enemy won’t do something; that is most likely the first thing they will do. Feeling desperate for revenge, Javier called the Hellions to keep his daughter safe while he sought out retribution. I’m sure Almanza thought his money sent us out to help Yesnia. What he thought then and thinks now still is not my concern.
Yesnia is.
Every move she makes matters to me.
His money isn’t what brought me and my family to Chicago. Sure, we took it, but I was going to be there for Yesnia, regardless. Even if she wants to shut me out. The memory still cuts me as deep as if it was yesterday.
“Go home, Axel.”
“No! I didn’t come here on some bullshit order from your father. I came here for you. I gave you my word, Yesnia. I stand by that shit!”
She waves her hand nonchalantly. “Then consider your duty done. Go. Home. Axel.”
“No. Fuck, Yesnia, how much more shit should we go through? How many more opportunities do you want to throw away? I’m standing here with my club gone. My family went back home. Dammit, woman, I’ve spent all this time by your side leaving my life behind for you. I’m here, waiting on you and you wanna toss that shit aside. Months, I’ve been right fuckin’ here. I’m willing to give it all up for you. Don’t you see that.”
She rushes to me. Her hands wrap around my neck, her lips crash to mine. We’re a tangle of body parts as she is full of fire and passion kissing me. Moving forward, it forces her to back up in step with me. We keep going until I have her against the wall. Pulling her hair off her shoulder, I expose the caramel skin of her neck. Unable to resist, I pull away from the kiss and drop my head to the crook of her neck. My lips hit the velvet of her epidermis where I suck … hard. It’s going to leave a mark. And I’m proud like some high school boy trying to make it known he got to second base. Except that’s not what this is.
I want to mark her.
Hell, I want to fucking brand her.
Inhaling sharply, the vanilla she wears takes me on a high like never before.
Fumbling, I feel her reach between us for my belt buckle.
Roughly, I pull away.
“Yesnia, baby, I want this, but you keep it up and then stop …” I take a deep breath. “I’ll stop, but damn, it’s gonna be hard.”
And tell me to stop she did.
So I stopped.
Even as a teen, I hated when guys tried to bullshit girls into going further because they said they couldn’t stop and it would hurt. Yes, blue balls suck. I won’t cross a line with a female, ever. It’s funny, though, pulling away from her in that moment felt like the hardest thing, but who knew actually leaving her would come so soon?
What I wouldn’t give for one more taste of her lips.
2
Yesnia
Without him, I feel lost. With him, I feel like I’m holding him back. Why do I always end up losing?
Life’s a bitch, and then you die. I read that on a bumper sticker once, and I have to admit it is completely the truth.
Except, my life isn’t all bad.
I just feel stuck by circumstances beyond my control.
I had a good life in Charlotte, North Carolina. I spent four years getting my degree. Sure, it was a basic Bachelors because I hadn’t figured life out, but it was mine. For the first time in my life, I was free from the crazy rules I had to live by with my uncle. I had friends, and not a single care in the world. I knew my time was ending with my diploma in hand. I simply had no clue all the ways in which my world was going to be turned upside down once college finished.
North Carolina … a state with nothing spectacular to brag about. There isn’t a city in the state that comes close to what can be found elsewhere. No glitz, no glamour, nothing over the top, just regular places with ordinary people. There is no finding the night life like in Vegas, or the charm of New Orleans, or the hustle and bustle of New York City or Chicago.
North Carolina holds a piece of me, though. And it has absolutely nothing to do with my time in college there.
It is because of him.
Axel Devon Crews is in North Carolina, and he took a piece of me with him when he returned.
I remember when my mom talked with me about sex. A young woman’s purity is a gift to give her first lover, she told me.
I gave him more than my virginity. I gave Axel Devon Crews my heart. I didn’t mean to let my emotions get so caught up in things between us. Our first time is a blur because after that the sex just got better and better every single time.
The passion between us is this undeniable explosion of emotions. My mind takes me back to the exceptional moments we shared after I healed from my gunshot wound. Axel gave me the best seven months of my life. Then I sent him away because the truth is simple: we will never work. Even with his absence the last five months, I still long for him like he was here kissing me, holding me, making love to me just yesterday.
My right hand holds me up, my left is straight out under the pillow my face presses into, my knees are up with my ass high in the air. Axel is behind me going hard.
I’m close.
I feel the building crescendo. Higher and higher, I climb.
It wasn’t like this the first time … it was good, but not like the times since. And there have been lots of times since the first.
Every inch of my skin tingles. I twist my head slightly to look at him. His hair falls wildly around his
face, something he detests, but I love. Every chance I get I pull the hairband from his blond strands so they fall around his face. I love the way they tickle my thighs when he goes down. In fact, that’s how this started—me on my back, his head between my legs, his mouth on my pussy, and me crying out his name in pleasure.
Now, he’s flipped me to my stomach and slid inside my heat, hitting me in the deepest way possible.
His blue eyes are determined as he thrusts in me. When his gaze locks to mine, I smile, he smiles, and everything feels right as I begin to clamp down around his cock and soar. I close my eyes as my body trembles. I can’t hold myself up.
I fall limp to the bed. Axel slides out of me.
“Yesnia, you okay?”
“Is it possible to die from an orgasm?” I mutter as the stars dance in my vision.
He laughs. “Went too hard. Gotta go soft for my woman.”
I flip to my back and stare wildly at him. “Go soft, nothing. That was amazing.”
I take this moment to look at his thick cock covered in my juices, the shiny metal glistening from the tip.
Immediately, I have a burst of energy. Sitting up, I press Axel back where he falls to the bed. Straddling him, I wrap my hand around his shaft and guide the tip to my opening. I slide down on him slowly while biting my bottom lip and leaning back so my breasts jut out more.
Rolling my hips, I begin to work him. Axel stares at me with a devilish smirk. His eyes are hungry, his body tense, desperate for a release only I can give him.
This is every time with Axel. He empowers me.
I have scars. Both physical and mental ones. With Axel, I’m not Yesnia Dominguez-Almanza. I’m simply his woman. I don’t have a fucked-up family with an uncle who put a bullet in me. I don’t live in a world I can’t understand. I’m his and he’s mine.
I let my head fall back as I ride him, circling my hips as I go up and down his wide, thick shaft. My body burns and begs for more. Together, we climb higher and higher.
Axel shifts to sit up. His hand comes to grip the back of my neck. His forehead rests against mine.
Bleed for It: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride On Book 3) Page 3
