by Ivy Stone
He called out just before Grandma shut the door. “Beth. Take care of my boy.”
My rigid muscles ache from standing so still. Slowly, I come back. I can hear Mason and Cannon’s voices. I blink, coming out of the daze and turn around to see if they noticed any of what just happened.
“Nine. Maybe ten months ago.”
“Why now go after him? Why did you wait so long?”
The two men are still talking, taking no notice of me. I chance another look at the photo, rubbing my chin. The wave of shock from another suppressed memory slows and the questions surface.
Why was he there the night my mother was murdered?
Why did he call me his boy?
Is he my father?
Was my mother in love with the Misery’s Angels Club President?
I clear my throat and straighten up. Taking a deep breath, I turn back around. I try my hardest to concentrate on Mason and not the man sitting behind a desk who might just be my father.
“I might be a biker Cole, but I’m not stupid. We had to play it right or we would’ve had a war on our hands. I wanted retribution and for the kid to pay more than anyone. He laid a hand on my baby girl. When Giuseppe got killed our perfect chance came up. The Marino name was tarnished. Lucio had no one left and was already on the run.”
Mason runs a hand along his jaw, lost in thought. “You’re right. Perfect opportunity. But one you’re not going to take. You’re gonna call me if you find anything else out. I don’t care how small or big your intel is, you find something out I wanna know about it.”
Mason walks away, ready to leave and as he pulls on the door handle, he turns back to the president. “And Cannon, if you double cross me, it won’t end well.”
Cannon grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good.” He eyes me. “Let’s go.”
I follow Mason without looking back. My mind is reeling and my heart’s still beating a million miles an hour. I need a breather and a stiff fuckin’ drink.
We pull out into traffic once we get back in the car.
“You believe that story?” I ask, Mase. More for small talk than anything because I don’t want him to notice something’s up.
He frowns from behind his aviator sunglasses. “Yeah. But it sure as hell isn’t the whole story.”
His comment circulates through the shadowed mess of confusion in my head. Everything I thought, everything I believed, is being dragged out of the darkness from the past and hinting at questions I’m not sure I want to know the answers to. One thing is for certain, though, Mason’s not wrong. Worry rips through me.
“You might be right on that one.”
Yeah, I don’t have a good feeling about this.
A loud knock sends me jumping out of my skin and the two metal forks I was holding clink on the floor as I drop them. I pick them up and set them out on the coffee table beside the takeout containers of Thai food. My hands rest on my hips and I smile. My tummy flutters instead of churning for once and the reprieve is welcoming, I just hope it lasts through dinner. I admire my effort with the candles lit on the table and around the gorgeous room of the Soho loft. The place still exudes Lindsey with shabby chic decor and beautiful furnishings I’d never buy for myself. If it weren’t owned by my sister, I’d never be able to afford it. I still can’t. But Lindsey offered to help me out and this was her way of doing that. Giving me her beautiful home and also, offering me an entry-level position at Jenkins & Davenport, her and Oliver’s multi-million dollar publishing company. At twenty-nine, the woman does well for herself. Whatever she and Olly did for Giuseppe, it paid their ways through college to get the degrees they needed to build an empire to be proud of. And had I have not been sick for the past few weeks I would have already started the job. Now it’s on hold until after the baby is born.
I clap my hands together with excitement over the candles, the wine glasses full of water and the dinner that smells half enticing, half nauseating thanks to an unborn baby who seems to hate all food. It’s funny how a simple dinner is small but sending me into spasms of excitement because it means so much. I want to surprise Roamyn when he gets here after work because last night he didn’t get to come back. He rang and told me it would be too late when he got home and he didn’t want to wake me because he doesn’t have a key, so he’d just head back to his place and see me today. Our night might only be takeout at home, but it’ll be our first real date.
I pull on the door handle. “Hey,” I greet Roamyn with a bright smile who’s on the other side, tie loose around his neck, top button undone, shirt folded up his forearms and eyes—tired. Very tried.
My enthusiasm falters.
“What’s wrong? You wanna come in?” I point behind me, and for a man lost in his own head a minute ago he manages a loving smile. My body quivers.
“Hey, babe. Nothing’s wrong. Just work shit.” His hand grasps my waist as his mouth descends on my forehead. It’s sweet and soft. The opposite to Roamyn. He heads inside. I frown and pull the door closed. Not the greatest start to our first official date.
I push the fork through my food while Roamyn smashes through his like it’s his last meal. It shouldn’t surprise me. The guy’s built like the Hulk. He must eat—a lot.
I clear my throat. “So work sucked. You wanna talk about it?”
Roam puts his fork down and comes around to me. Silent. Muscles tight. Far from the relaxed face, he’s trying to pull off. He outstretches his hand for me.
I peer up at him before taking hold of it. “I take it that’s a no?”
He nods, his flinty eyes blazing over me. Forehead creasing with whatever is going through that beautiful blond head of his. My hormones skyrocket. My core throbs.
“It’s a no.”
I swallow, my mouth dry. Roam pulls me to my feet and spins me around, locking my back to his front. His fingers whisper over my shoulder blade. He twirls my hair back and over the other side. I gasp under his touch. My eyes involuntarily close. He leans in, hot breath on my neck. Lips wet against my ear. Hands pinching into my skin, massaging the tops of my shoulders, traveling up my nape. My nipples pebble, tightening to almost painful. Desire pools in my panties.
“You know what I really want to do, Ali?” His hands glide down, splaying around my belly before slipping lower. They trace the band of my shorts. My pulse quickens.
“What?” I stammer.
He kisses my shoulder. “I want to yank down these shorts.”
He kisses me again. “Bend you over the couch.”
He squeezes my hip. “Feast on your sweet cunt.”
My legs tremble. “And after I get a taste of everything I’ve been missing out on, you’re gonna come all over my cock.”
My mouth falls open. Roam brings both hands up and cups my breasts. Squeezing over the thin fabric of my top. “That sound good to you?”
I push my ass back and rub against the hardness suppressed in his pants because it couldn’t be more okay. Any other man and I’d cringe under his touch. Hate his eyes on me. But this is Roamyn. My hero. My love. A man who’d rather die than bring me any harm. He feels my unspoken response and a grunt resonates near my ear. Before I can speak or move, my shorts are around my ankles, my pink lace panties are snapped off and my shirt’s rising over my chest. I lift my arms and Roam pulls it over my head, discarding it to the floor. Goosebumps prickle over my skin as he unclips my bra and I let it fall.
Roamyn’s belt buckle and pants hit the floor behind me and as I turn around the muscles in his stomach move and stretch as he shrugs off his shirt.
He chin lifts at the couch a few step away from us. “Bend over it, baby.”
My hips sway as I walk. I grab the back of the couch like he asks and when I bend over Roamyn’s already behind me, dropping to his knees, hands gripping my ass.
I glance back and my eyes connect with Roamyn’s. He caresses my cheeks. My body blazes with heat and with a grin on his face Roamyn dips a finger down my crack and plunges it de
ep into my drenched pussy.
“Ah,” I moan. Breathless. Needy. The whole time he watches me, our connection never breaking.
“You like watching, baby? You wanna see what I’m doing to you?” He adds another finger and builds up rhythm.
“Yes.” I nod. “I want to see.”
He pulls out and spins me around, lifting me up at the same time. He walks us down the hall into my room and the soft comforter on my bed envelops me. Roam bends to the floor and wastes no time.
He presses a kiss to my bare pussy. “Sit up on your elbows and touch yourself. Play with your tits while you watch me eat your pussy.”
My clit pulses. Lust spurs me on and I pinch my nipples between my fingers. I squeeze my breasts together for Roamyn to see. They’re heavy. They ache—they ache for more. I squirm as Roam’s hair tickles my inner thighs. His tongue licks up every drop of desire. It swirls over my clit with perfect precision as he peers up at me with hungry eyes. It’s teasing, tantalizing and addicting. I push my hips up. Just a little more pressure. Roam hums against me and I push again, chasing the bliss that’s now within reach. My breathing becomes rapid. Loud. It turns into moan after moan as he slips two fingers into the mix with his magical tongue. The muscles in my stomach recoil. Pressure builds in my core. My white sheets crinkle under my hands as I grip them tightly.
“That’s it, babe. Ride my fingers. Let me show you how good it can be.”
His words shatter me into a million pieces. The dirty dipped in sweetness crashes against every wall defending my heart. My guard falls and so do I. I come undone for this man who stole a piece of my fifteen-year-old soul and never gave it back. And for the first time ever, I welcome the vulnerability. I soak up every sheet pulling, ass grabbing, leg shaking moment of pure fucking ecstasy.
My chest heaves as I chase my breath. Roamyn pushes me up the bed with him. He spreads my thighs apart. Kisses up each side and pulls both legs over his shoulders. The whole time I stare at his crotch. Tasting his long thick cock already on my lips.
The head of his cock lines up with my pussy. He grips my hips and glances up. “You ready, baby?”
God yes. More than ready.
I bite my lip and nod. His dimples peek out as his face splits into a grin.
He slams on home.
It’s Sunday. Not that long ago I dreaded Sundays. I had to sit in church and listen to two of the most callous men I’d ever met preach about love, loyalty, and honor while doing it with a forced smile on my face despite the bones of my hand crushing from Lucio squeezing it too tight. Not that anyone witnessed that part. It made me sick to my stomach. My skin would crawl. No amount of hot water blistering my body in a shower ever washed away the permanent layer of disgust I felt from being a part of such treachery.
Now I look forward to that special day of the week. The one I spend with people who are quickly becoming something scary and beautiful.
Family.
My family.
Sundays are still filled with love, loyalty, and honor. But of a different variety to what I’d become accustomed to. The kind that warms your heart allows you to breathe easy and trust without hesitation.
Laughter lights up Mason and Lindsey’s home. The racket coming from the tall bar table over the far side of the living room where the boys are roaring over something Trey said. Roamyn’s doubled over, his shoulders bobbing. Eli’s head is thrown back, his longish hair reaching down his back. Oliver’s shaking his head and Mason’s hiding a smile behind his bottle of beer. Lindsey’s leaning over the stove in the kitchen frazzled because, well, she can’t cook and all that. Charlotte’s standing beside her listing off everything she’s doing wrong and what she should be doing instead.
Meanwhile, Cassidy and I are relaxing back into lounges that are comfy enough to sleep on. Aww’s come from beside me where Cass is scrolling through Pinterest boards full of baby room designs because that’s next on my pregnancy to do list, right after I take another nap. And then there’s Rocky, the not so delicate Labrador, who’s just living life, stealing one biscuit at a time from the kitchen counter covered in enough pre-dinner snacks to feed a small army. A smile tugs at my lips as I take it all in. It’s alarming how fast this is becoming my normal. Even before a month ago when Roamyn and I decided to leave our pasts in the past and move forward, together. At least, that’s what I thought we were doing. But something happened with Roam and I still don’t know what it is. He’s deflected me every time I’ve brought it up. Either brushing it off, making a joke or offering up his cock to shut me up. He’s all but moved in with me, and while I’m giddy with excitement over the fact we’re finally in a good place I can’t help the worry tightening the knot of unease I feel whenever I see him drift off into his head.
“Dinner’s almost ready, guys,” Lindsey yells out.
My tummy churns. Cass and I give each other a look of good luck and head over to the dining table. Mase smiles at me as he walks into the kitchen. He circles his arms around Lindsey’s waist and whispers something in her ear that makes her gush. My heart swells seeing my sister finally happy. She deserves it. After everything we’ve been through in our short lives already, no one deserves happiness more than her. She’s spent her whole life being the strong one. At some point, strong turned into steel and no one could break down those walls. But Mason and Charlotte had. My eyes wander to Roamyn, the only one left at the bar table. I let out a heavy sigh. He’s staring out the window, the wrinkles around his eyes bunching as he bottles up whatever’s going on. Mason pulls up beside me, lips pinched together in the same look he wears almost twenty-four seven. Broody and intense but undeniably handsome.
“Something’s going on with him, Mase. I don’t know what it is and he won’t talk about it. I don’t want to push him, but it’s eating him up inside. He’s trying to hide it but he can’t. Which means whatever it is it isn’t good.”
Mason’s eyes tighten as we worry over someone we both care so much about. “Yeah. I’m getting that feeling.”
Dinner is crazy. There’s no other word for it. Three different conversations are flying across the table. Everyone’s growing louder to speak over the top of one another. And surprisingly, the food isn’t just being pushed around plates in an effort not to offend my sister and her lack of domestic skills. It’s being eaten and enjoyed which means Charlotte must have done most of the food prep. Knives and forks are scraping plates and Elias and Roamyn are already digging into the salad for seconds. It’s chaos. The perfect kind.
Lindsey clears her throat over the noise. Nobody except Olly and I take any notice. Oliver sniggers beside her and she backhands his chest with a light slap. She does it again. Still nobody hears her.
“Hey, people!” she says, her tone loud and snappy.
Well, that gets their attention. Every set of eyes in the room land on her, including Rocky’s from his spot down on the floor beside the table.
Silence keeps us on edge until Lindsey’s face breaks out into a smile worth a thousand words. She turns to Charlotte, who bites her lip, her eyes bulge with contained excitement. They both spare Mason a glance who nods lovingly into the eyes of a woman he so clearly loves.
“This morning, Mason proposed to me… and I said yes.” Her voice heightens as she gets to the yes.
She pulls her arm out from under the table and a big shining diamond on her left hand catches in the light. Cheers and claps echo through the room. And while everyone’s high with excitement Lindsey flicks my way, her hair draping over her exposed shoulder. Her bright eyes so similar to mine fill with something light rather than darkness. She glances around the room, soaking in our surroundings like I did not long ago. She smiles. And I smile back. No words are necessary. Through our biggest fears, came our greatest strength. We were two girls who came from nothing. We’ve been surviving. Some days just barely, but we’re still here. Together. And this—this is everything we never had and everything we’ve always wanted.
Now we have it all.
Cassidy’s high-pitched excitement vibrates through the room. “Now we get to plan your bachelorette party.”
“Oh, don’t forget the strippers, Cass,” I yell out across the table.
Mason puts up a hand. “Hold up. There will be no strippers. No other man is getting anywhere near my woman.”
“Is that right?” Lindsey straightens her back and tilts her head toward Mason. She may be madly in love with the guy, but my sister is not a woman who likes to be told what to do—by anyone.
Roamyn chimes in. “Yeah. I second that. No dick is getting anywhere near Ali’s face. Not unless it’s mine.”
Trey groans. “Well, you guys aren’t any fun.”
“Why don’t we have a joint party then?” Oliver suggests.
Trey’s brows draw in. “Like, together?”
Cass rolls her eyes at him and I bite the inside of my cheek while I hold in the big V word. Roamyn notices and he shakes his head.
“Ali,” he warns.
“Vegas, anyone?” I suggest, my lips breaking into a huge smile.
Trey’s face splits with excitement. He claps and points my way. “Now we’re talking.”
Within two hours the Vegas trip is planned and a wedding date has been set for two months from now.
The balcony door clicks opens but I don’t turn around. I know who it is. Mason leans over the railing beside me and we stare out into the city. I needed a moment of quiet away from everyone. I love my family. But just thinking the word family in my head keeps dredging up my past with Cannon. Here was my perfect escape to just think and enjoy the quiet. Not that brewing over this shit for a month in silence had helped a damn thing. Mason knows it too. He’s been eyeing me off tonight. Doesn’t help that my best friend can read me like an open book. But I guess that happens after eight years of spending nearly every day together.
