Yours: A Forever After Novella

by Thomas,Natasha

  Adjusting my rock hard dick more comfortably in my jeans, I listen in for a few minutes longer until I hear Faye say something about Harleigh going on tour which has me seeing red.

  I step further into the room and brace both of my hands on the doorframe, hearing the wood creak as my fingertips dig in and hold on tight.

  “Oh, no she’s fucking not. Over my dead body is my girl stepping foot on a bus full of horny as fuck men for months on end,” I growl ominously, watching as both women’s head spin in my direction.

  Locking eyes with my wife, I seethe,

  “Don’t bother opening that pretty mouth of yours to feed me some line about that shit being your job or that they’re professionals, angel.” Nodding at Faye I ask, “Give us a bit, would you, Faye? Harleigh and I have things to talk about that I’m sure she doesn’t want an audience for.”

  “Lyric,” Faye all but pleads.

  Jerking my head, I narrow my eyes at her.

  “I’ve played by yours and Dante’s rules for a fuck of a long time, Faye, so don’t push me. You asked me to stay away and I did. Not just for you, but for her too,” I add, indicating to my wife who by all accounts is giving me a death glare that should slay me where I stand.

  “I know,” Faye nods. “I know you have, and I’m grateful Lyric, but please don’t hurt her.”

  Taken aback by her request, my hands shake, and my heart rate spikes. Does Faye honestly believe I’d hurt Harleigh? I fucking hope not, because if she does, then Faye doesn’t know the first goddamn thing about me.

  Never. Never would I harm a hair on Harleigh’s beautiful head or cause her one ounce of pain that I could save her from. Not only am I not that kind of man, but just the thought of inflicting any kind hurt on the woman I love more than life sickens me.

  With the calmest, most controlled voice I’ve ever heard come from Harleigh, she soothes,

  “It’s fine, Faye. Lyric would never hurt me, and if he did, I’d be forced to kick his ass, and that’s a fate worse than death so I promise you he’ll behave himself.”

  Nervously Faye agrees.

  “Okay, but only if you’re sure you don’t want me to stay. I mean, I could just sit over there quietly, just in case you needed me, that is.”

  “No, no, it’s all right, babe,” Harleigh smiles wryly. “Lyric will be a good boy, and I promise not to get blood on the carpet so that should put your mind at ease. Can you please tell Zander I’ll have to reschedule the meet with the contractors, and that I’ll give him a call later with the details of when and where?”

  The sound of another man’s name coming out of my wife’s mouth has me wanting to commit murder, but I rein in my homicidal tendencies. Just. For her, I would do anything, but that doesn’t mean the same wave of possession, lust, and desperation doesn’t swamp me every time I think about her with somebody else. Not that Harleigh would do that; she’s not that kind of girl. Regardless of the fact we haven’t officially been together in years, my woman wouldn’t cheat on me.

  Faye backs out of the room cautiously, looking between us with every backward step she takes. I get it. I know she’s worried about her friend, and she should be. I’m done fucking around and listening to everyone else's advice. I’m over having to sit back, waiting and praying my wife will come to her senses and come home where she belongs. And I’m fucking sick of waking up in a cold sweat reaching for Harleigh when I should know by now she’s never there.

  “You’re looking well,” Harleigh nods tersely, pulling her long, dark hair back into a high ponytail.

  Allowing my eyes to slowly peruse the length of her body, I drag out the sweet torture until my blue eyes meet fiery green ones.

  “And you’re just as fucking stunning as ever,” I smirk, not even remotely bothering to hide my body’s reaction to her.

  My hard on’s been insistent, throbbing and steadily dripping pre-come for her since I walked in to see Harleigh on all fours. The memory of the last time I fucked her like that is imprinted in my brain, and I’m not ashamed to say I’ve jerked off to the look of rapture on her face when I powered into her tight, hot cunt from behind either.

  “So, Tripp says you brought reinforcements,” Harleigh prompts, propping her hands on her curvy hips.

  “A few of the boys needed a change of scenery and decided to make the ride with me. They’ll stay out of the way while we deal with our shit, but they miss you too, Hails,” I answer honestly.

  And it’s true. Losing Harleigh didn’t only affect me, it had an impact on a lot of people. Especially the men she’d become close to in the club that classified her as more than just a friend, but a sister too.

  The solitary exception to that is, Spike. My best friend and patch brother openly and vocally dislikes my wife, using every opportunity he gets to tell anyone who’s listening that it’s not the end of the world, and we’re better off without her around to complicate shit.

  Spike’s opinion hasn’t been well received over the years, least of all by me, and more times than I can count, we’ve gotten into it in the ring and outside of it. Regardless of how many times I’ve kicked his ass, I haven’t been able to get it out of him what his problem with Harleigh is. One minute they were almost as close as he and I are, and the next, Harleigh was avoiding him, and Spike was sending glares and insults her way.

  “Lyric,” Harleigh’s sexy rasp sounds. “Who did you bring? Tell me King Douchelord isn’t downstairs because if he is, I’m not coming out of this room until he’s removed. Preferably with force by someone who dislikes him as much as I do.”

  “What’s the deal with you two?” I ask, wanting a straight answer for once. “I love you, baby, and once upon a time, he did too.”

  Under her breath, she mutters,

  “A little too much,” which confuses the fuck out of me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all,” Harleigh says quickly, trying to cover her earlier verbal misstep.

  Stalking her as if she’s my prey and I’m a predator, I close the distance between us and wrap my arm around her waist. I inhale deeply, skimming my nose up the curve of her neck and revel in being able to touch her again.

  Harleigh’s warm, silken skin, the way she sighs into my chest and curls her small hands around my biceps is achingly familiar. The feel of her pressed up against my body is like a live wire straight to my dick, who now stands at full attention, resting against her toned stomach.

  “No, you don’t get to shrug that shit off, baby. If Spike’s done something to piss you off, tell me. I’ll kick his ass, make him apologize to you, and maybe then we can all get back to the way we were before all this blew up,” I reason with her.

  Running my palms down her back, I feel her body shudder as I reach the dip at the base of her spine. Harleigh won’t admit it, shit, she’ll probably deny it to her dying breath, but she’s just as affected by me as I am her. Our chemistry has always been off the charts. Her sexy, tight, little body craves my touch; it has since the first time we had sex at sixteen, both of us virgins, both of us desperate for each other.

  I’ll never forget the first time I sank my cock inside of her amazing pussy. It was sinfully hot, deliciously wet, and it was everything I could do not to blow my load the second I bottomed out against her cervix.

  Tiny pink-tipped fingernails dig into my arms, bringing my attention back to the woman struggling to free herself from my hold. Like that’ll ever happen. I’ve been waiting too long to feel her again, so if Harleigh thinks I’m letting her go anytime soon, she’s got another thing coming.

  “Stop it, baby. You’re only going to hurt yourself,” I grin tightening my grip on her.

  “Ah, I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. I could unman you in less than a minute, so answer the damn question,” she huffs, stilling for the time being.

  Giving in, I groan,

  “Yeah, Spike’s downstairs. And no, he’s not going anywhere until I find out what the fuck
the deal is between you two.”

  “I need space, Lyric. If you want me to talk, then you need to back the hell off.”

  “Not a chance in fuck,” I snarl, walking us backward until the backs of Harleigh’s knees hit the soft mattress behind her.

  Following her down and covering her body with mine, I use my hips to pin her to the bed and demand,

  “Start talking, and don’t leave anything out.”

  What happens next I had no way of anticipating and wouldn’t change for the world, but in hindsight should have put a stop to. At least until I got what I’d originally come there for…My wife back and the promise she’d never leave me again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ~ Harleigh ~

  I didn’t think about what I was doing, other than shutting Lyric up, and I realized my mistake as soon as my lips touched his. Where everywhere else he is hard sculpted muscle, his lips are warm, smooth and pliant. Everything about Lyric’s kiss is dangerous; a fact I should have remembered from when we were together and deliriously happy.

  We haven’t always been like this; estranged and on the verge of either killing or fucking each other to death. There was a time that I thought we would be together forever, that nothing or no one could tear us apart. And I suppose part of me, the traitorous, bleeding heart part, still does.

  It isn’t a well-guarded secret that our families believe we’re perfect for each other; they’ve said as much since the day I was born. If anything, they’ve spent our lives plotting and scheming up ways to push us together if it became necessary. Now that you know that, you’re probably asking why Lyric and I never broke the news we’re married to them then.

  In the beginning, we had every intention of telling them. In fact, Lyric and I had it all planned out. We were going to ask everyone over to my parent’s house for dinner, and over dessert break it to them gently. In my minds’ eye, I could see my mom jumping up and down clapping, same goes for Lyric’s mom, Blaine. My dad wouldn’t be impressed I had run off and got married without his blessing, but after he let it sink in, he would have been happy for me too. Our siblings wouldn’t have cared as long as there was enough cake to keep them occupied. And Lyric’s dad, Jonas would have simply smiled at me before engulfing me in a huge hug and patting his son on the back.

  Unfortunately, I never had the chance to see if my vision of that day would play out that way, though.

  A week after we got married, Spike, having no idea I was his best friend’s wife, cornered me at the clubhouse in the kitchen and told me he had feelings for me. But it didn’t stop there.

  After telling him in no uncertain words that I didn’t feel the same and never would, he gripped my wrists in one hand, pinning them behind my back. Pushing me up against the cold steel bench, Spike loosened his hold and used his hand to cover my mouth while he viciously and ruthlessly violated me in the worst way possible.

  That day a part of me died. This man, one I had trusted since I could walk, a boy I had watched become a man, someone I considered a friend raped me. He stole something from me that I had only willingly given to one man; Lyric.

  The thing is, when I think back to the aftermath of Spike’s attack, I don’t feel anger or pain. I know I should. Fuck, I should feel disgust and shame too, but I don’t. Instead, the only thing I’m capable of feeling when it comes to that day and Spike is betrayal. Not only toward him for breaking my trust, my body, and destroying our friends, but toward Lyric too.

  He should have been there to save me. If it weren’t for Lyric getting distracted and stopping to have a beer with some of the guys in town, my husband would have spared me a lifetime of nightmares and shame.

  For all the times Lyric told me it’s his job to protect me and keep me safe, he failed. He failed when it mattered most. In essence, that’s why I left. I stilled loved him, then and I do now. There should be no doubt about that, but I don’t trust him. I can’t.

  Is it fair for me to blame Lyric for the sins of his friend? No. Should I finally tell him the truth about why I’ve been sending him divorce papers on the first of the month ever month for the last four years? Absolutely. But will I? That’s an unequivocal, no.

  Why? Because what difference does it make now? What’s done is done; there’s no changing the past as much as we may want to. And trust me, I really, really fucking want to sometimes. At the end of the day, Spike is a member of Vengeance MC, a patched member, and Lyric’s friend. They are part of a brotherhood by choice and by patch, and the MC will always come first. I should know, my dad is Vengeance’s VP.

  “Hey, baby. What are you thinking about so hard?” Lyric rasps, dragging the flat of his tongue down the column of my throat until it strokes the point where my pulse races.

  Now I just have to decide if I am strong enough to continue lying to the man I promised I would never willfully deceive, or if I’m willing to stoop to using my body to keep distracting him until he forgets his own name.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ~ Lyric ~

  Harleigh’s body stiffens underneath me momentarily. If I were anyone else, I probably would have missed it, but I’m not. I’m the man who knows her better than she knows herself, and I know when something’s not right with her. And even if it kills me or she does, whichever comes first, I am going to get to the bottom of this.

  Flipping us over so that Harleigh’s straddling my waist, I wrap both of my arms around her and drag us up the bed until my back is resting against the headboard.

  “As much as I’m enjoying our little reunion, we’re not taking this any further until you talk, baby.”

  Harleigh leans in to kiss me, but I manage to pull back just in time.

  “What if I don’t want to talk? What if all I want to do is ride your cock until you fill me with all of that hot come you’ve been saving for me?”

  Her filthy mouth has me panting and desperate to tear her clothes off and do just that, but I won’t. For the sake of our marriage, I’ll restrain myself and her if I have to. Now that idea actually has merit. Tying Harleigh up would kill two birds with one stone. First, she wouldn’t be able to run from me. And secondly, she would be stretched out ready for the taking, and fucking take I would.

  Noticing the sexy little smirk of triumph on her face, I shake my head and dig my fingers into her hips.

  “Nice try, Angel, but it’s not going to happen. Not right now, at least. Later, after we’re done talking, I’ll strip you naked and fuck you as many times and as hard as you want, but that’s later. Now spill it.”

  “Jesus, I forgot how much of an asshole you can be sometimes,” she mumbles.

  “And I forgot what a manipulative cocktease you are when it comes to getting what you want, so we’re even,” I fire back.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” she muses with a small grin tipping the corners of her mouth.

  “As you should,” I smile back.

  Sliding off me so that she’s sitting beside me instead, Harleigh curls her legs under her juicy ass and folds her arms over her chest. While I wish she’d stayed right where she was, it’s better this way. I can’t concentrate when Harleigh’s within arm’s reach, especially not when her pencil skirt is riding up to the top of her thighs, and the delicate lace of her pink panties is peeking out at me.

  “Jesus,” my wife hisses, making me realize I’ve been staring at the apex of her thighs practically drooling for a full two minutes now. “Some things never change.”

  “Fuck no,” I chuckle. “You’re still as fucking hot as ever, and your pussy looks and smells just as good, if not better.”

  “Look,” she starts with a small shake of her head. “Other than the fact I was supposed to be at a meeting half an hour ago, I’ve got more work than hours in the day. Not to mention, Faye and Dante are relying on me to babysit tonight, so I suppose what I’m telling you is, that I don’t think this is the right time or place for us to sit down and have a chat. How about I meet you somewhere tomorrow and we can talk ove
r lunch instead?”

  You would think a stubborn, hardheaded woman such as Harleigh would recognize someone cut from the same cloth, and that’s without taking into account the history we share. But no. She seems to forget that I’m just as stubborn, more determined, and impatient as fuck. And that’s on a good day. Today is not one of those days.

  Reaching out to grip her forearm when she goes to scoot off the edge of the bed, I tug Harleigh back into my side and hold her there. If she thinks she’s getting away from me that easy, she’s fucking dreaming. I’ve waited what feels like a thousand lifetimes to finally find out why everything between us fell apart, so I’m not giving up that easily.

  “Stop,” I growl, bunching the heavy weight of her ponytail in my fist. “You’ve got to stop fucking running, baby. This,” I state, gesturing between us with my other hand, “what’s broken with us is getting fixed now. I don’t care how long it takes or if I have to tie you to the bed to coax it out of you by using my fingers, mouth and cock, because like it or not, you’re stuck with me until I say differently.”