by Vivian Gray
“Who is she?”
“A friend.”
“Did you ever fuck her?”
His face fell. “Once. A long time ago.”
She sighed, but he ground his hips into her. “Don’t be like that. Her old man just died. She’s my friend now, and I try to talk to her whenever I see her.”
Some of the jealousy ebbed, like the ridges of sand washing away under the ocean waters. “Oh. That’s sad.”
“Yeah.” His thumb traced the line of her jaw. “She’s a nice girl. You’d like her.”
***
Jessa scoffed, which only made Silas’ cock stiffen more. He hadn’t counted on being so turned on by her hissy fit. Curious gazes flitted their way as Silas remained pressed between her legs.
She squirmed against him. “You can put me down now.”
“Not until you remember that I came here with you.”
She tried to hide her grin. “But I’m just your fake wife.”
Silas let a long sigh, searching her face. She had to know how much shit she was talking. There was no way she’d have come here tonight, dressed like that, and still try to push the story that there was nothing behind the veneer of marriage.
“Jessa, I don’t know what you are. But you’re far from fake anymore.”
He pressed his lips to hers in a surprisingly sweet kiss, one that coaxed a whole range of emotions he wasn’t prepared to deal with. She hooked her arm around his neck, the last of her resistance melting away in their embrace.
When they parted, Jessa looked as frazzled as he felt. “So why were you ignoring me?”
He nipped at her chin. “I wasn’t. I was doing the opposite. I was only paying attention to you.”
“But you weren’t talking to me.” It might have been his imagination, but he thought he caught a pout on those glossy lips.
The corner of his mouth turned up. “And what was I supposed to say?”
“How much you like my leggings, for one.”
He sighed, smoothing his hands over the thickness of her thighs. “Yeah. But that’s exactly the problem.” He stopped himself before he said anything else. The truth was, she looked too damn good – made him want her in ways he’d sworn to stay away from. Letting people in only led to getting hurt. So why be honest with her?
He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know what they were. Every part of him begged for something he’d told himself was off-limits. But with Jessa between his legs, he could barely remember why it was off-limits.
“And that is?” She arched a perfectly painted brow, smoothing her hands over the ridge of his shoulders.
“You’re too sexy for words. If I open my mouth or think about it too long, I’m liable to fuck you right here in front of everyone.” He ground his cock into the heat between her legs, already looking forward to when he’d peel those sexy leggings off of her. “You didn’t warn me.”
She looked more pleased than he’d ever seen her. “About what?”
“About how hot you look when you dress like the sexy biker chick you are.”
Jessa’s cheeks flushed; he could see even in the low lighting of the bar.
“Babe, if this was the first night I ever laid eyes on you, you bet your ass I’d be the first guy to buy you a drink tonight.”
She giggled, running her finger over the seam of a cut. “Oh please.”
“And that jealous streak?” Silas shook his head, wetting his bottom lip. Maybe they’d have to leave early. He wasn’t sure if he’d last much longer without burying himself inside her. “I’m about ready to come inside my pants like a teenager.”
She tossed her head back with a laugh. “Okay, okay. You made your point. I’m over it.”
He slowly lowered her to the ground. When she smiled up at him, her cheeks were ruddy and full.
“Now, Mr. Biker Man.” Jessa tugged at his hand, giving him a smile so sweet it almost sent him to his knees. “Can we dance?”
Chapter Fourteen
Days turned into weeks under the easygoing domestic routine of the Jessa and Silas show. Jessa smiled to herself as she drove to work that morning. The Jessa and Silas show had a certain ironic ring to it. They’d started out playing these parts, except it was no longer an act.
They were damn near a real married couple. Jessa squeezed the steering wheel as she navigated the busy morning traffic, a warm breeze filling her car. Each morning they woke up slowly, rolling around her bed, Silas making her giggle for any number of reasons ranging from a surprise penis at her back or wandering fingers up her neck.
Their days started with smiles and laughter and ended that way too. Jessa grinned just thinking about him. Talk about the honeymoon phase. She was giddier than a schoolgirl with Silas.
And the weirdest part of it all was that it wasn’t just sex. She and Silas stayed up late some nights, talking about their pasts – about the dark parts of their childhoods, about the bizarre or fascinating things that had happened to them.
One of the most shocking things she’d learned about Silas was that he’d lost his younger brother to the Spawns. It wasn’t just Stone he was avenging. The animosity ran deep with Wicked Spawn, and Jessa herself was anxious for the Death Knells to win this battle.
She told herself it was because she wanted life to calm down, return to normal. But she felt the prickling need for revenge, too. Even though Silas and her didn’t talk about club business, it only felt right, all the way down to her bones, that Silas accomplish this mission.
Jessa breezed into work just after nine a.m. Sipping on her coffee, she wound her way through the tightly packed Harleys in the display room on her way to the managerial office. Just a few sips in, her stomach started to protest. Sweat prickled on her arms as queasiness struck. She hurried past the office and straight to the bathroom. She barely made it into the first stall before puking up all the coffee she’d drank.
She breathed heavily, staring at the contents of the toilet bowl. This was odd. Very odd. She dabbed some tissue paper across her face, fighting another swell of nausea.
What. The. Fuck.
She heaved one more time, but nothing came up. Gripping the sides of the toilet seat she drew long, ragged breaths, trying to calm the unexpected uproar.
It had to be something she’d eaten. She wiped at her brow as she flushed the toilet, watching the water go down. Something she’d eaten that didn’t agree with her. She sniffed hard, then tore off some more toilet paper to blow her nose. Food poisoning. That was it.
She wandered back out onto the floor and headed for the office. She flipped the lights on and looked around at the quiet room; the dark computer screen, the sorta-messy desk that only made sense to her, the stacks of loan papers littering the back filing cabinets.
Jessa went about her morning routine as she always did, minus coffee. She eyed the thermos as she woke up the computer. But what if it wasn’t food poisoning? If she was suddenly allergic to coffee, she might as well just dip out of life now.
She was just getting into the work groove when the salesmen and garage guys started filing in. Everyone waved their greetings through the glass window as they came in to start the day. Jessa forced a smile, fighting another wave of nausea.
But she couldn’t hold it back for long. The urge to puke overtook her, and she bolted for the bathroom, slamming the women’s restroom door open against the tiled wall as she fought to make it to the toilet.
A coworker came inside to check on her. Yvonne peered into the stall. “Are you okay, girl?” Jessa tried to wave her off, but Yvonne frowned. “You can’t be at work if you’re sick.”
“I’m not.” Jessa stood shakily, wiping off her face with more toilet paper. “I mean, maybe I am.”
“You should go home.”
“I can’t.” She gestured helplessly toward the front of the store. “I need to send the inventory reports for the last quarter. It’s due…”
“Jessa.” Yvonne helped Jessa to her feet, the woman’s pitch-black hair
was pulled back into a loose ponytail. The stud through her bottom lip sparkled in the lighting. “Come on girl. Don’t do this to yourself. The boss will understand.”
Jessa sighed heavily. Being forced home was different than calling in sick. That, at least, was in her favor. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Please. I don’t want to see you bent over this toilet puking all day.” Yvonne guided her out of the stall. Together they walked toward the office, where Jessa slowly gathered her things.
“I’m going to text our boss,” Jessa began.
“And I’ll let him know, too.” Yvonne shooed her away, tugging the office door shut behind her. “Go on. Rest up. And we’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jessa drifted toward her car in a daze, raking through the possibilities in her mind. She didn’t feel sick, that was the problem. Once she was in the driver’s seat, she tapped out a quick message to Silas: Hey, are you feeling sick today? I’m being sent home from work. Puking and stuff. Maybe it’s something we ate?
Silas’s reply came lightning fast: Are you going home? I feel fine. Do you need me?
She stared at the text message so long that tears came to her eyes. He was sweet… so unexpectedly sweet. She wiped away a tear before she wrote back: Just leaving work now. I think I’ll be fine… but thanks.
As she started up her car, Silas’ reply came through: I’m sending someone to keep an eye on you today at the house. I’ll be home early too.
Jessa smiled through a veil of tears as she started the drive back to her house. She couldn’t remember the last time she had someone fuss over her. Maybe it had been years. That probably explained the tears.
As she sat at a stoplight halfway between work and home, her gaze drifted toward the pedestrian crossing. A very pregnant woman waddled across the street, wincing as she hurried to the other side. Jessa watched her for a moment, a smile lingering on her face.
And then the smile fell.
“Oh, my God.” Jessa’s eyes widened as she looked up to the sky, the realization hitting her.
Was she fucking pregnant?
The light turned green, and Jessa didn’t react. The car behind her honked, and she slammed on the gas pedal, making the car lurch. Her mind reeled as she drove, barely conscious of where she was going.
Her last period had been… She tried to think of when it had been. Nothing came to her. She couldn’t even remember what season her last period had been in. That’s what she hated: how irregular they could be. And with so much time without sex, she’d slacked on her normally vigilant condom usage…
Jessa sucked in a breath, spotting a pharmacy up ahead. There was one way to solve this dilemma: buy a damn pregnancy test. She merged toward the pharmacy, fingers tapping a wild rhythm on the steering wheel.
She couldn’t even think about what life would become if she were actually pregnant. Didn’t even want to go there. Because, of course, it would be Silas’, and no matter how she felt about him, it still wasn’t a great idea to have a biker’s baby, much less any baby right now, like this, in these circumstances.
Jessa was breathless as she parked, practically stumbling into the store. She hurried down the first aisle she saw, trying to make sense of the overhead signs while her mind wouldn’t stop spinning.
Finally, she found the tests, grabbed the first one that looked simple, and headed for the register. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone while she was inside.
She told herself taking the pregnancy test in her car was not a good idea. Pee sticks were meant to be used in the bathroom. She gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white, driving becoming more reckless the closer she got to the house.
One of the Death Knells’ brothers was already there when she arrived. She waved, walking jerkily toward the front door, tucking the pharmacy bag under her arm. Christ, what if she was pregnant? Should she tell Silas?
It took her three tries to open the front door. When it finally swung open, she took a deep breath in the cool, calm air of her house before heading for the bathroom. Whatever the results, she could handle it. This had certainly not been the way she’d expected her day to unfold, but she could cope. Probably.
Jessa tore the box flap open with her teeth, dropping the test the first time she tried to open the protective bag. Once she got the pee stick out in the open, she sat on the toilet and waited. And waited.
Too tense to pee, she swore and set the test down. Goddammit, she had to relax. Chill the fuck out a little. Pregnant or not, life would go on. Silas would be supportive, probably, no matter what she decided. Just thinking about him sent a warm wave through her.
When she tried again, she was able to hit the mark. And five minutes later, the test clearly showed the result:
Pregnant.
Jessa stared at the little pink plus signs for a long time, wondering if maybe she’d somehow made a mistake. Even though the test was foolproof, maybe she’d peed on it wrong? Or maybe touching it a certain way made the test come out incorrectly? Had she shaken it?
She blinked slowly, shaking her head. No amount of wishful thinking was going to make those two little pink plus signs turn into minus signs.
She was freaking pregnant.
She sat slumped on the toilet for what felt like an eternity, running through every scenario and possibility in the world. Keeping it. Not keeping it. Telling Silas. Keeping it from him. Raising a baby with him. Discovering he’d be a deadbeat dad. She looked around the neat bathroom decorated in muted shades of gray. Would she see little duck themed towels hanging off the back of the door in here? Or maybe this would just be a blip, a brief “what-if” that stained the tapestry of her past?
Nothing was off-limits in her fantasies, and that seemed therapeutic somehow, like maybe imagining every possible outcome would allow her to pick the best one of them all.
When her legs finally felt solid enough to support her, she paced the bathroom, staring at the test. If she didn’t want him to find it, then she needed to throw it away. But maybe she did want him to find it. Leaving it out in the bathroom for him to discover could be cute, in an alternate world where this pregnancy would be exciting to both of them. He would come home, she’d urge him into the bathroom, then he’d stumble out, holding the test, a shocked but excited grin on his face…
She couldn’t lie; she had fantasies about having kids. And sharing the news with a partner. She’d just never imagined that Silas could be the one. That her child might potentially be raised within the same MC she’d fought to escape.
She just didn’t know how to feel about it. She needed to sit on it. For a while, maybe. Let the dust settle and go from there.
With a nod, she packed the test back up and hid it in the trashcan. That way it would be hidden from sight, but she could still retrieve it if she needed – if somewhere along the line she decided that she and Silas made sense as both parents and a married couple.
Jessa headed for the kitchen then, ready for a cool glass of water. As she passed by the small foyer, a pop pop noise yanked at her attention.
She made a beeline for the front door, peering out the narrow window spanning the height of the door. In the front yard, the Knells’ brother who’d been on guard lay unmoving in the grass.
She gasped, dread making a sick trail through her body. Her hand went to the doorknob but she didn’t open it, doubts creeping in. That noise could have been gunshots. Even though that was the last thought she wanted to entertain, she could never be too sure now that the MC was so prominent in her life.
The club brother didn’t get up. Panic sliced through her and she turned on her heels, heading for her phone on the dining room table. Before she could pick it up, the front door banged open.
She turned to look just as two masked men came rushing inside. The last thing she saw before they knocked her out was their leather kuttes and the seedy logo of the Wicked Spawn.
Chapter Fifteen
Silas checked his phone more often than normal that day. Kno
wing that Jessa was sick and at home made his palms itch with wanting to go to her. But she hadn’t accepted his offer… and something told him he needed to respect that – even though for the past couple weeks they’d been as much of a couple as any.
Neither of them could deny it at this point, but neither had dared bring it up. It was the elephant in the room: they looked at each other with love in their eyes.
His motorcycle rumbled as he downshifted, pulling into the clubhouse parking lot. The sky was extra blue, the air extra crisp. Late summer in Northern Californian was practically a delicacy. It was the type of day that made him want to say fuck it to the errands he had to run and just ride straight home to Jessa. Then they could sit on the back patio together under the sun while he brought her whatever she needed, even if she said she didn’t want it. He sensed that she’d want to not rely on him too much. And maybe that just made him want to be even more reliable than ever.
