When Opposites Collide Boxset

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When Opposites Collide Boxset Page 51

by Kathy Coopmans


  She has my jeans down over my ass, stroking my dick while her other hand cups my balls. Jesus Christ.

  “Gotta be buried deep inside you, darlin’, to remind you who you belong to. Not to make you forget. If you want this, then it needs to be you and me for the time being. You get me?”

  I slide off the bed and make quick work of ripping her damn scrubs off until she lies bared to me. She’s a fucking work of art. Christ Almighty, does she ever have a nice body. A magnificent pair of tits, legs, and a pussy I ain’t never gonna want to come out of. I’m going to blow my load inside of her so fucking hard.

  “Answer me.”

  “Yes. I’m yours. There isn’t anyone else in here but us.” Damn fucking right, there isn’t.

  I catch one of her feet, rubbing my nose along the inside.

  I start kissing my way up to her addictive pussy. I lick and eat her out until she’s screaming my name and pulling my hair.

  “Saxon,” she moans out. “I need you.”

  The way she calls me by my birth name rips me apart from the inside out. I’ve always despised the damn name, but when it rolls off her tongue, it’s a whole different story. I stare down at her and wait until she looks up at me. I’m gripping my raging dick fighting the urge to come all over her creamy skin.

  Our gazes connect and there ain’t no need to ask what she feels for me. It’s written all over her beautiful face, imprinted in the way she breathes. Floating off her, slamming me right in the fucking gut. Eden spreads her legs, giving herself to me with no reservations or questions. I move on instinct until I’m settled between her legs with the head of my cock bobbing at her entrance. God, she’s going to feel like heaven.

  I freeze knowing this moment right here will be branded on my memory forever, and I want to soak every fucking ounce of it up.

  Eden moves first, bucking her hips up, causing the tip of my dick to slide in her. She gasps and I throw my head back, squeezing my eyes shut.

  “Fuck, baby,” I growl out. Her walls are clamping me tight. Goddamn, she feels good.

  Even though I’m on top, she’s the one moving up until I’m balls deep in her. Connected so deeply that we become one. I gotta move. I can’t. Not yet. I want to stay like this for fucking ever. You would think that would scare me. It does the opposite, just like her and me. It settles somewhere in my thawing heart.

  “Saxon.”

  Her tender voice is pleading, singing out my name, making my fucking world come full circle. I glide in and out of her, relishing every single movement. Our foreheads connect, my elbows trapping her in, and then our lips connect. They move in unison to the way I’m fucking her.

  Then it hits me. I’m not fucking. It’s all I’ve done my whole life. Fuck ‘em, kick ‘em out of my bed, and then move on. This isn’t that. I’m...I’m making love for the first time in my life. The realization causes me to still and pull back from Eden. I study her delicate features then smile. It’s only a matter of seconds before I begin moving again.

  “Saxon, Saxon, oh, God! That piercing and you. Oh, my God. Please, please.” That’s right, darlin’. Feel all of me. She digs her nails into my back. “I’m going to—”

  Her words are cut off with the beautiful melody of her release. Her pussy is gripping my dick so tight I have no choice but to follow right after her. Filling her with my come. I push in a dozen more times, growing drunk on our mingled releases.

  I collapse down on her making sure to keep most of the weight on my elbows. My dick is staying between her legs. If I could, I would stay buried in her all damn day and night. I drop my head down next to hers. We lie silent for minutes. Eden’s the first one to break the silence.

  “I want to go to Denver.” She grips me tighter. “And I want you to go with me. You can help me, watch me deliver the money, and then kill him.”

  I turn my head, so my lips brush her ear. “We’ve got men there, Eden.”

  “He wants money.”

  On cue, her fucking phone starts dinging with a multitude of incoming texts. As much as I don’t want to, I pull out of her and walk out to the living room to get it. It’s a damn good thing I relished and branded the last twenty minutes to memory, because it’s all been erased.

  When I get back to the room, Eden’s cleaning herself up in the master bathroom. Her body is trembling as she bites her lower lip.

  There’s no way I’m cleaning my dick off. I want her smell on me all damn day.

  “Get your bag. We’re going.”

  Her eyes light up. “Thank you, Saxon.”

  “We ain’t going to Colorado, Eden. We’re going to the club. My prez needs to know this shit. That was Ricky sending you more texts. We ain’t opening them. The fucker can squirm. This is club business now. Curtis, my prez, he’ll make the decision on what comes next.” If she’s going to be with me, then she needs to know my life. As much as I hate to hurt her, and as much as I care, I won’t go against my club.

  Her face falls briefly.

  “Okay.” Fucking finally, she gets it.

  She’s trusting me, and that’s all that fucking matters.

  62

  Eden

  We all make poor choices in our lives. Today was one of them for me. Well, not the part where Saxon took over my body. Stripping me bare, looking down at me as if he couldn’t believe I wanted him. I want him more than I should. More than I deserve. They say opposites attract; well, our attraction is clear off the charts and it’s only going to top them from here.

  I don’t think I’ll forget the first feel of him pushing inside of me as long as I live. We need to talk about that. I took him without any protection, which is something I’ve never done. Another decision I made poorly. Not the sex part. After one taste of him, I’m fairly certain I’m ruined. In a Saxon-good kind of way.

  All my fears slipped away just the way he demanded. At least while he was inside of me. I haven’t been with a man as controlling as him in my life. To be honest, I’ve never even socialized with a man who lives by the rules outside of society.

  Even though I have no idea what I’m about to walk into as we stop at the gates outside of what I assume is his club, my mind is at ease. I feel safe. Cherished and adored. As much as a man like him can adore, I suppose. Which is more than he gives himself credit for.

  He scared the ever-loving hell out of me when he snuck up on me the way he did.

  When I first realized it was him, I was struck numb. Then I became angry. I wanted to tear into him the same way he did me. I wanted to cry, lose my mind, and slash my chest with his knife to drain all the pain out of me.

  I did nothing but listen. His words of how stupid I was mixing in with all the pain.

  Now, I have no clue what to do. I trust him. I really do. The problem that has been plaguing my thoughts this entire ride is, Wilder is out there somewhere, and he is frightened. My nephew is hurting. I saw it in his eyes when Ricky sent me the picture. He didn’t send it to let me know Wilder was safe. He sent it as a threat. An unreasonable threat to destroy me, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. Why a man could become so desperate that he would kill the mother of his son, kidnap him, and put him through hell. It angers me. I want to kill him myself. Turn my mind off saving people and become as detached as the side of Saxon I’m about to learn about.

  I’m excited to learn about the life Saxon lives. More so than I thought I would admit to myself. I want to learn all I can about this man who has snuck up and snatched hold of my heart.

  “Even though you look good on my bike, Doc, we’re here. You want to tell me where your head’s at?” I turn my helmet-covered head to the side to see the man of my thoughts standing next to me. Worry etched in deep lines on his face. I hate seeing him worry. Especially after what we shared.

  The man is a contradiction at its finest.

  “I’m scared,” I admit. He moves in, unclipping the helmet, pulling it off my head, and dropping it to the ground.

  His big hands slide into
my knotted-up hair, palming my scalp. I tingle everywhere.

  “Of what?” His words say so much. Saxon is incredibly smart. So intelligent that I knew the first time rationality struck me in the head that he doesn’t see it. Doesn’t think he’s worthy of much. He is. He’s worth more than my broken heart can express right now. At the moment, though, he’s asking a very dumb question. Not nearly as dumb as what I was about to do, but dumb nonetheless.

  “Not of you, this place, or what’s happening between us. I trust you. I trust these men you told me about because you trust them. I’m scared for Wilder, Saxon. So scared that he’s all I see. You took my thoughts of him away for a little while. All I felt was you. Now, I’m lost. It’s obvious Ricky is out of control. Something is driving him desperate. I’m barely hanging on. I have a job, a man I’m beginning to care about, a life to live, and I won’t be able to do any of that if I lose him. I know I’ve said this before, but he’s a part of my sister. I can’t live my life without him. I need you to bring him back to me.” I have a gamut of emotions going through my head, and every single one of them has made a home in my heart.

  The only time I haven’t tossed and turned in bed at night is when this big brute of a man who literally stomped his way into my life is holding me in his arms. A part of me comes with a warning label full of guilt that I’ve allowed him to take a spot in my heart when it should be full of grief; another part is trying to peel that label off. That part I know is Zoe scratching with all her might, telling me I deserve to be happy.

  And then there’s the strongest one of them all. The one I just confessed.

  “I’m repeating myself again, darlin’. I don’t lie. At least not when the truth is sitting on my bike admitting shit to me that I’ve dreamed of hearing her say.” I think back to what I just said, wondering what part he’s been waiting for.

  “I have no idea what you're talking about,” I say, confused.

  “I figured. Everything you just spilled to me ain’t nothing you haven’t told me before. Some of it was spelled out in different words. What you haven’t said was you're lost. What you don’t understand is, people who are lost usually become found. I found you, Eden. I ain’t never letting you go. That also means you need to open those big, beautiful eyes of yours and take in what I’m offering. Not talking about me, because you can have all of me you want. I’m talking about living. You have been sheltered up in that big old house of yours, just waiting to be found. I know what it feels like to be lost. Trust me, I do.” I don’t know what part of what he said I should ask him about first. Everything he said was beautiful. And true.

  “What do you mean, you know what it’s like?” My mind shoots back to the night we met. I can vaguely remember him saying something about his family being in the same position I was. Something about being young and holding his parents’ hands.

  He untangles his hands from my hair, a cold, swift gust of air replaces where his warm hands had been. I’m just as scared to hear what he has to say as he is to tell me.

  “Zeke and me, we had a sister. Her name was Clara. I was young, too young to help her when she was raped and murdered. She had been beaten and left in a ditch as if she was someone’s trash. I loved her so much. She was a good girl. Kind, always putting others before her. Especially me and Zeke. Zeke, he went off the deep end. Joined the military, took his anger out on our country’s enemy. And me, a teenage kid, I became so fucking lost in this world that I started doing drugs, smoking weed, cigarettes, and fucking any chick who wanted me. I did that kind of shit for years. Juvie, jail. My parents didn’t give a flying fuck about me. They drank themselves unconscious half the time. They became so lost they were never found. We don’t even know if they're alive or dead. Don’t want to know either.” He pauses, runs his hands down his face, his eyes fighting tears. “I wouldn’t be standing here looking at the best thing that’s happened to me if Zeke didn’t come home and find me. I would be sitting in prison, fucking lost. I found this club by pure coincidence one night when I was still on edge. If it weren’t for these guys you are about to meet and my brother, I’d still be blaming myself for losing Clara. It wasn’t my fault. It was the son of a bitch’s who hurt her. I’m not about to let you hurt anymore. We will find him, Eden, and he won’t be lost anymore either.”

  My mind is struggling to stay in this moment when all I want to do is swing my legs off this bike and hold him.

  That’s what I do when his words sink in and his eyes plead to me that we both need it.

  “I’m so sorry, Saxon.” I wrap my arms around his waist; his chin drops to the top of my head. We may be opposites, but we sure fit together perfectly.

  “No need to be sorry, babe. It’s life and the cruel way it shapes us.” His arms pull me closer to him until I’m drowning in everything Saxon.

  “I hurt for you.”

  He pulls his head back without letting go of me. His beautiful, scarred face drops to mine. “All this pain and hurt brought us together, that’s what we need to focus on.”

  I smirk. “For being a big badass biker, you sure can go all romantic on my ass.”

  He growls and then attacks my lips. I react without thinking, opening up to him. Our tongues dance together, exploring every single space inside each other’s mouths. Saxon presses his want for me into my stomach, causing me to giggle into his mouth.

  He pulls away even though I know he doesn’t want to. “Don’t be spreading that bullshit around about me. I ain’t no Prince Charming here.”

  I crook up an eyebrow in protest. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “Darlin’, I’ll bend you over this fucking bike and take you from behind right out in the daylight.” Saxon whirls me around.

  I can’t help the damn laughter rolling off me. His powerful palm presses down on the middle of my back while his other hand grips my hip.

  “’Bout to Prince Charming the fuck out of you, babe.”

  “Brick.” A gruff voice interrupts the playful banter. I wouldn’t put it pass Saxon to make good on his promise. I’d probably let him. I mean, come on. He’s bringing me to life. A life worth living. This might be the first time laughter has graced me in a long time. This man makes me forget everything and feel safe at the same time. It’s priceless.

  Saxon pulls me up from his bike until my back collides with his chest. He keeps both arms laced around my front.

  “Griff,” Brick barks back.

  “Church, you dirty motherfucker.” The man called Griff takes a deep inhale on his cigarette.

  “Fuck,” Saxon murmurs into my hair.

  Griff strides right back into the club with no fucks given. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell these men aren’t worried about bedside manners. Saxon begins walking us forward.

  I crane my neck. “Who was that?”

  “Our sergeant of arms. He’s a brother.”

  “What’s church?”

  “Meeting where only brothers and the prez attend. Discuss club business. Nothing behind those closed doors leaves.”

  Both of my eyebrows shoot up. I’ve entered a completely new world. It’s not until I step into the clubhouse that it hits just how far out of society these men function. It looks just like a hometown bar. Smoke thick in the air, a long bar with a man behind it pouring whiskey, a pool table, couches, tables, and a few hallways, and it’s all cloaked in dim light.

  “Brick, get your fucking ass in here,” another man hollers at him.

  He whirls me around to him, dropping his forehead to mine. “I gotta go. No questions asked.”

  I push at his chest. “Go.”

  The torture playing out in his eyes is evident. He doesn’t want to leave me, but this is his life. I don’t need an apology. I just need him to be him, and that means club business from what I’ve learned in the little amount of time.

  “You’re safe here.” He kisses me then strides right past me.

  The room Saxon disappears into is closed by a harsh slam of the door. Well, I thoug
ht I was badass when I encouraged him to go, but now it’s awkward. There are a few men walking around wearing similar cuts as Saxon’s, but theirs have the word ‘Prospect’ on them. I take a harder look around. Several women are sitting at the bar, asses hanging out. Shirts way too tight. I’m guessing whores.

  “Hey, girl.” I turn to the welcoming voice, twiddling my fingers, and manage a weak smile.

  “Come have a seat.” The gorgeous brunette pats the seat next to her. There’s another girl sitting at the table with her. I notice the row of empty shot glasses lining the bar. Oh, boy. I might be in for some trouble.

  Whores or not, I’m going to get drunk. I study the way the two women carry themselves and the confidence that oozes off them. Something tells me they’re not whores. These women belong to someone. I wonder if they are referred to as old ladies. Dumbest thing I’ve heard in my life. Learned that one from some motorcycle magazine I flipped through while waiting in line at the grocery store. These women aren’t old. They are beautiful. New rule in this club. Old ladies out. Beautiful ladies in.

  63

  Brick

  “Nothing grinds my Goddamn ass more than a man laying a hand on a woman. Unless she fucking deserves it,” Roan shouts, tosses Eden’s phone back to Curtis, and stands.

  He stayed behind to help out here. The guy is damn good at tracking people down. I can tell he isn’t having any luck.

  “You aren’t the only one. We may go around calling our women names, but that doesn't mean a thing when it comes to respecting them. My wife has my dick shriveling every time I raise my voice. She’d chop the fucker off if I attempted to threaten her. Which I’d never do,” Curtis admits. I toss back my beer. Throw the can in the trash and reach in the fridge for another. “Don’t any of you say a fucking word about what I just said, or I’ll toss you the fuck outta here. Especially you, Brick,” he adds. Didn’t take him long to figure out just what Eden means to me once I got the call back from Shorty that Eden was running. Told me to go after her and bring her here. Now he’s as pissed off as I am over Ricky and his threats. We all are.

 

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