by Anthology
“You want to know how sick it makes me to think that I actually hated Alexis for getting pregnant? How for six goddamned months I regretted every worthless breath I took because I thought knocking her up ruined my shot with you?” My breathing dragged. “Now it kills me to realize what I almost gave up. I love my baby more than anything, Annie, but I’d sure as hell love you just as much if I had the goddamned chance to be close to you.”
“I wanted you to have that chance.” Her chest rose and fell in a breathless panic. “Christ, Gold. You think you’re the only one who suffered when you left? I spent my life wanting a man I couldn’t have and regretting my every stupid decision that forced me away from you. I escaped the club. I got out of Anathema and this life when I knew how complicated it would be. And none of it mattered the instant I saw you again.”
“And?” I edged closer. Annie slammed against the wall. “What are you saying?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“You know the risks. You know the complications. I got a kid to look out for, a club that’s splintered right down the fucking middle, and a bullseye on my fucking forehead for Priest and The Coup. What’s it gonna be?”
“You want me to decide? Now? Here?”
Annie pressed harder into the wall. I crowded her, intimidated her, if only to watch how her lip trembled in desperation for a kiss, how her hips wiggled for me to grab her, hold her, toss her back.
“I want to hear you say it,” I said.
“Why? So we can both end up alone and miserable again?”
“No one’s gonna be alone now. And I’d do everything in my goddamned power to make you happy.”
She swallowed. “Before or after the club and the danger and the…the…”
I didn’t let her finish.
She didn’t think I’d take care of her? That I wouldn’t kill myself for her smile, to make her feel safe, to make her feel how much I wanted her and had wanted her for ten fucking years?
I slammed my hands against the wall. She flinched, but I silenced every last protest with the crushing pressure of my lips against hers.
I hated that our kiss was dragged over protests and born from the very hesitance that nearly drove her from my arms. But not this time. Annie was mine, even if it was just for one night.
I suffered enough bullshit and sacrificed enough of my body in war, in the club, and for a false family built on lies and addiction. I had the kid, now I’d get the girl.
Annie groaned against me. Her fingers dug into my cut. I thought she meant to push me away. Instead, she curled her fists over the leather and tossed it to the floor. That offense would lay a bitch on the ground if it were any other woman. But not her. Not the goddess undressing me, not the one who sacrificed her own safety to touch my skin against hers.
I pulled from her kiss only to rip my shirt over my head. Annie did the same. Quick. Fierce. Impatient. Her creamy skin looked even smoother, softer against the darkness of her bra. She was perfect. Not a bruise, not a track mark, not even a hint of ink against her pale flesh, and I couldn’t wait to savor what I imagined for so many damn years.
I bit more than I kissed, but Annie didn’t care. She squeezed my arms and touched my chest and explored the tensing muscles nearly popping off the bone to please her. Her throaty groan turned to a muted squeal as I nipped the hollow between her shoulder and neck. She stilled, just how I wanted her. My teeth held her in place. She shuddered her breath as I surged for the button to her jeans.
Never once did I get to undress this woman. I imagined it for fucking years, every inch of her flesh and every perfection that was her curves.
Now I got to do it.
She was more beautiful than I realized. I knelt before her and ripped the jeans down, cast from her smooth, runner’s legs. I left the socks on her feet. She slipped against the hardwood of the hallway, and that was fine. She didn’t need to support herself. I’d rut through her until she wouldn’t be able to stand anyway.
“Gold…” Her voice trembled, like she didn’t know exactly what I planned to do while kneeling before her, staring at the black panties hiding the crest of her legs. “Can we really do this…?”
Why the fuck not?
Why deny it? Why not take it when life offered satisfaction instead of delaying for the perfect time, the right moment, the circumstances to change?
“I wasted ten years mourning the chance I never had with you.” I growled as I ripped the panties from her legs. “Fuck it, Annie, I’m not waiting anymore.”
She didn’t get to argue.
I spread her thighs and feasted upon the slick, hot petals that wetted for me and me alone. She flatted against the wall, nearly collapsing. I gripped her hips just to keep her standing, just to keep her spread and weak for my tongue to taste what I had longed to taste for years.
And it was worth the wait.
Jesus fuck, was she worth the wait.
Hot and slick and absolutely sweet, like the tastiest honey or most luxurious cream. Sinfully tight and silken.
My cock swelled, and my jeans zipper bit against the hardness. Even if I freed it from the denim, nothing would satisfy it except her simmering heat.
And, Christ, I would make it ready. Desperate.
She already shook in my arms. Didn’t take much to earn her cry and took less effort to drag my name from her lips. Her fingers tangled in my hair as I suckled against her dripping pussy, feasting against the little swollen nub that promised her the most explosive pleasure she ever experienced.
Nothing would compare to me.
Nothing was ever gonna compare to me.
Even if we came to our senses, even if we realized how goddamned idiotic we were to indulge our instincts to fuck and come and have each other, this moment would be the one she never forgot.
I finally had her. Tasted her. Felt her heat against my face and imagined just how amazing she’d tighten over my cock once I sheathed inside her.
Annie writhed against my lips. I didn’t let her get away. The most perfect, most beautiful, most unbelievably sexy slit trembled against my lapping tongue. I wasn’t stopping until I stole that moment of pleasure from her fantasy and claimed it for my own. She probably thought about me as much as I thought about her. Probably touched herself at night. Probably cried out my name after wet fucking dreams that twisted her panties against her heat.
This was my payback. My revenge. I wanted to make her scream just to earn the pleasure I wrenched from my own fist every time I pumped my cock thinking of her in my dreams.
And it worked.
Annie clutched at her breasts, the buzzed closeness of my hair, my aching shoulder. Her body twisted and rent and she exploded in a quick burst of everything pleasurable and perfect and delicious that slickened her for more than my prodding tongue.
She panted in goosebumps. Lost her voice to the timid rasp. Tried to cover her puffy, swollen slit so ravaged by my mouth.
I wasn’t having that.
I stood, unleashing my cock with a single flick of my fingers against the zipper and denim. The jeans didn’t come down. I didn’t have time or the patience. All I needed was my cock released and her pussy dripping its desire for me.
And I had it.
Annie gasped as I gripped her. She slammed against the wall with a groan as I grabbed her ass and forced her up. A girl like her deserved more than a rutting against a wall from a man who had blown every fucking chance he ever had to seize such beauty. But neither of us was able to claw our way to a bed. I needed her, then and now, or my cock would rupture and she’d collapse in inconsolable misery.
I’d fuck myself over, but I wasn’t leaving my woman in agony.
Not when I’d give her every last ounce of pleasure instead.
Her legs wrapped over my waist just as my cock found her slickness. I pushed in, greedy and fast. Annie met my stare, her eyes widening as I realized I was probably more man than she had ever taken.
It should have been me. Her first t
ime. Her second time.
Her every goddamned time.
It changed now. I’d fuck those memories out of her head and make new ones. She’d know only the feel of my cock bottoming out in that tight pussy, and she’d remember how my thickness stretched her into oblivion. Her pleasure would be mine. Her excitement. Her desire.
I captured her in a single thrust.
Annie moaned, her back arching against the wall to fight the intrusion. It only let me sink in deeper, and I was lost. Her heat consumed me, every bit the slick and desperate vice of pleasure I always imagined and never thought I’d possess. She squeezed me, groaned against me, forced her own body to take my cock and impale herself upon the same delicious torment her body caused me.
“Fuck.” I grunted against her. “Fuck, Annie.”
She agreed, though her breath lost in a rapturous whimper of lust and delight and every devilish sensation I cast within her.
Her pussy would destroy me. The tightest sin only trapped me deeper. The hottest mistake melted me from within her core. Her most perfect promise would forever damn me in my own mistakes. I regretted letting this woman go, letting other men touch her, hold her, love her in a way only I knew how to love her.
Never again.
It ended now.
Annie was mine. Every breath she took, every whisper she uttered, every moment of trembled pleasure she endured.
It was mine.
I’d bring her happiness. I’d chase away her fears. I’d give her a life of devotion and love that I should have provided ten years ago.
She’d have it all. All of me. All of my love. All of my fucking cock.
I slammed the promise into her, deeper, harder. She panted against me. I hardened even more against her clenching tightness. Her breath whispered my name in her exhale, and I breathed everything that was her as I struggled to contain myself, my excitement, my every goddamned feeling for her.
She begged me.
“Gold, please.”
Her cries silenced on my kiss. Her body shuddered on my cock.
Why deny it? Why deny everything I ever wanted?
I thrust two, three, four times, rocking her into the wall, jarring paintings from the hooks, crashing her against me and memory and every missed opportunity I had to give her this pleasure before.
She crashed around me.
I lost myself in her.
And the jutted heat that connected us would forever sear me in raging, unrepentant, damning love for a woman I should have cherished.
I’d do it now.
I’d love her now.
Every moment of every day, every goddamned breath she took and every time she said my name.
Annie panted, her body crippled in a beautiful agony that shuddered and clenched and offered. I took, slamming harder into her just to feel how utterly perfect she felt with me, around me, for me.
“Gold…” Annie clutched me, but she didn’t say the words.
That was fine. I’d say them for her. For us.
Forever.
“Goddamn…” I kissed her, hard. Her eyes widened. “I love you.”
Chapter Seven
Annie
We fucked in the hall.
We made love in the bed.
Just like I had always imagined, just how I wanted, needed, fantasized.
I loved James Mered from the first time I noticed a boy until the night he pounded on my door with a baby in one hand and blood pouring from the other. Gold was more than a school girl crush or a moment of fleeting weakness for a man inked with tattoos and wrapped in the leather cut of responsibility and outlaw aggression.
He was mine.
Finally mine.
And with him came the best sex of my life, a promised love so powerful and intense it scared me, and the threat of everything bloody and brutal I hadn’t faced since I left for college.
I wasn’t just involved with Gold. His very shadow was darkened by the Anathema MC, and by inviting him into my bed, I invited the entire club back into my world.
Years ago, I knew what I wanted. I accepted every part of him—jail time and the bike, the money he earned and the new patches on his cut.
His baby.
It was foolish to still want him, to wish for more of him. But he was mine. I didn’t want to let him go now that we finally had a chance together.
I tossed on yoga pants and a shirt. Gold didn’t move. He slept on his stomach, splayed out, dead to the world. His shoulder pulsed, but it didn’t look too inflamed. He’d live, scar, and brag about it later on.
I edged to the living room. Silver rested in her carrier. She woke with the cutest little yawn and motioned to be freed. Her blue eyes opened wide. They were far brighter than Gold’s, nearly sapphire while her daddy’s turned stormy grey. She smiled. Silver didn’t have Gold’s dimples either, but she was still absolutely adorable without them.
The diaper bag rested beside her. I didn’t want to wake Gold. It had been years since I properly took care of an infant, but the basics were the same. I laid a blanket on the floor and picked her up, giving her a quick change before she fussed. He packed her a bit of formula, and I carried her into the kitchen to fix a bottle. She squealed as I danced with her.
It was probably too late for her to have a full meal, but she eagerly took the bottle. I nestled with her on the couch, just watching as her little hand brushed the bottle before clutching at me.
“She’s cute, right?”
I swallowed, breaking my gaze with the baby to stare at her daddy. Gold leaned against the wall, smirking. It was the first time I saw his dimples in years, and I welcomed every playful second he flashed them at me.
He hadn’t fully dressed, just threw on his jeans. He lost his shirt somewhere in the hall, and that was fine. I wanted to check over his stitches again anyway. And I didn’t mind the view. His hardened muscles seemed just as strong, just as defined now, but they didn’t pulse with the ragged need of a man on the edge. The ink wasn’t as dark, the image of the scarred demon on his bicep less intimidating.
“Very cute,” I agreed.
“Takes after her dad.” Gold edged close. Just having him near earned another sloppy grin from the baby. Silver spat out the bottle to babble at him. His hand engulfed her head, but he stroked her hair so gently, so lovingly, he nearly put her to sleep. “Didn’t think I’d like having a kid.”
“You’re a natural.”
“I have no idea what I’m doing.” He glanced at the bottle. “How are you managing?”
“I had enough cousins and friends with children,” I said. “Hell, I’ve fostered puppies and kittens too. They’re not such a mystery.”
“Then you’re better off than I was.” He knelt before us, making a goofy face at Silver to force a giggle. She frowned instead, batting at his bad shoulder like she knew it hurt him. He took the bottle and offered it again. “A week before she was born, I realized I had no fucking idea how a baby worked. Tried to read a book, but that just got me laughed out of Pixie.”
“So what’d you do?”
“Watched YouTube videos on my phone when the guys weren’t looking.” He rubbed his face, his ears actually tinging pink as he grinned. “Practiced wrapping a couple diapers on a bag of sugar.”
“No way.”
He handed me the empty bottle and tossed a rag over his shoulder. Silver nestled against his chest, tiny and cute and completely encased in pure, inked muscle.
“Sugar. Bag of chips. Two liter of pop.” He shrugged. “At least when I was done, I had the fixings for a party.”
“You’re such a liar.”
He crossed his heart, though the motion encompassed most of the baby. “Had to do something. Not like Alexis…”
We both quieted. I swallowed. He held his daughter tighter.
“Well, she’s not winning Mom-of-the-Year. Not like I’m no better at being a dad, but at least the kid is fed and dry and warm. Gotta count for something.”
“You’re doing a gr
eat job.”
Gold frowned. “I showed up at your door bleeding from a knife wound. I left my kid with the president of an MC and his old lady. You had to save my ass by running over the man pointing a gun at my head.” Silver babbled, her sounds jiggled as he patted her back. “Not the best start.”
“You got her out of a dangerous situation. That’s being a good father.”
“I don’t deserve her.” He lowered her to the blanket, carefully tucking her onto her tummy. He pulled a toy from the diaper bag and reflexively wiggled it in front of her to keep her focused. “Sophie is the greatest thing that’s happened to me, and she came from the darkest time in my goddamned life.”
“Last year was the darkest of your life?” I batted at him, earning the flash of his quirked smile and stormy gaze. “You were in jail before. Had a tour in Iraq.”
“Yeah. And none of that compared to losing you.”
Pretty sure I flushed, but that wasn’t unexpected. I was still pink from when Gold took me twice in the hall, on the way to the bedroom, tossed onto the bed…
“You know I’m crazy about you?” Gold kissed my hand, my knee, everywhere and anywhere he could kiss. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I wanted you. And what happened with Alexis—”
“Gold—”
“What happened with her was a mistake. Not the baby, but leaving you. Not giving it a shot. Going back with an ex I knew was batshit crazy.”
“I don’t blame you for wanting a family for Silver.”
“I do. It’s not a family.” He took my hand. “I had you, and I lost that chance. And I’m a goddamned idiot for letting you get away.”
“I’ve got news for you. I’m not getting away this time, and neither are you.”
The dimples returned. “No?”
“Not even if I have to tie you to the bed to keep you here.”
He edged closer to the couch, kissing up my hand, my arm. “And what would that be like…exactly?”
“Try to run and find out.”
“I’ll get my shoes—”
Gold’s smile faded. The roar of the bikes screamed outside, their engines thundering entirely too close to the house. I froze. Gold didn’t.
