The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  Just a taste.

  I wasn’t smart. I was fucking stupid.

  And I was going to wreck us both.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Grief was the biggest bitch of all. There were days when the bitch took over and held me captive, feeding me lies, making me believe all the hurt in my heart was because I had lost Danny. Sure, I loved him, thought I would spend my life with him. He was all I had after having nothing for so long. But I learned that I was done mourning Danny. That sounds horrible, I know. But my truth, the one I hide from myself is that I have misplaced my grief. I’m not mourning the man I loved but the woman I used to be.

  The realization became clear the day I shared Danny’s murder with Jack because it was the easiest scar to share. The easiest scar is the weakest, the one that’s fading slowly but surely.

  The other scars, they were deep and tore me down. They were the scars that were visible, the scars I kept hidden underneath my clothes. Still, they wove their way inside, latching onto my self-esteem and tearing it to shreds. There was still a shred of hope they would one day vanish from my body. As stupid as it was for me to believe that, I was smart enough to know that if that day ever came they’d still live inside. I still remember what my body looked like when I peeled the gauze from my skin and stared at the ugliness in the mirror. So ugly.

  I try to tell myself that vanity is a sucker’s possession, beauty fades over time, and appearances become a memory but it doesn’t seem to work. I’m always transported back to that day when I first saw my body after the fire.

  I remember crying; I remember screaming and I remember thinking I’d lost more than just my skin. I lost Danny in that fire, yes, but he was the only man to ever love me. He loved Reina before the scars and he would’ve been the only one to love me after them.

  Grief was the biggest bitch but God was a twisted fuck too. He chose this life for me. He made me the survivor. No one asked if I wanted to live the rest of my life like this. I didn’t get a fucking vote.

  It was a hard pill to swallow, jagged edges scraping the walls of my throat as I realized I would spend the rest of this miserable existence alone. But what choice did I have? The scars were too much for me to look at—to accept. How could I ever expect someone else to?

  As time passed, I learned to live with the scars, to hide them. I claimed them as my own and vowed never to burden anyone else with them. Loneliness took root in my veins, making me an inverted version of myself and I learned to be numb, to ignore the longing in my heart.

  Until Jack.

  Jack.

  That walking, breathing, sliver of hell, masked as a man, shadowed in darkness.

  At least that’s what he thinks of himself.

  He is so much more. To me he is the light at the end of this tunnel of turmoil. He is the Mederma to my scars, the ointment that will make them fade away. Something I never saw coming but somehow, he broke the walls around me without me even noticing.

  He’s my hope.

  And I realized all of that when he disappeared for five days. It started slow, like a baby taking his first wobbly steps before he jumped into the world exploring everything. My body became alive; the Band-Aid I hid myself beneath was ripped off. Jack had started pulling emotions and sensations from me that I thought had died in that fire with Danny.

  But with any kind of good, comes a shitload of bad. I felt the ugly things too—jealousy and insecurities I didn’t know existed for a woman. It’s ridiculous, completely absurd, but uncontrollable. After I gave him the piece of my truth, he took off into the unknown, and even though he promised to come back to me, it wasn’t enough. By the third day Jack was MIA, I was a basket case and acknowledged that I had become dependent on Jack.

  I had a medicine cabinet full of pain meds that I rarely ever used. It was one thing to live life lonely but another to live it lonely and addicted to drugs. Noble, I know. See there is a small part of my brain that thinks responsibly from time to time. However, that part of my brain seemed to shut off because now I was hooked on Jack. I needed him like I needed air. He gave me back a piece of myself without even trying and I wanted more. So much more.

  I counted the hours, then the minutes of how long it had been since he left. My mind wandered and when I closed my eyes I pictured him, much like I had seen him the night I went to his clubhouse, with a willing mouth wrapped tightly around his cock.

  By the fourth day, I hated Jack Parrish. I hated that he was a man of mystery. A man, who without giving me much of himself, had made me want to give him all of me. I hated that I missed him.

  I hated that I felt anything at all for him.

  And on the fifth day I decided I didn’t want to feel anything anymore. I wanted to be numb again. I was halfway there when he showed up. One look at him and my thighs were clenching. So much for being numb. I hated Jack Parrish.

  I gave him more truth by admitting I was using him.

  He gave me his truth and told me he was doing the same.

  I hated that too.

  But too weak to fight, and too desperate for him, I agreed to keep using.

  He put me in the shower and ordered me to pack a bag. In the middle of all my revelations the woman that lived two floors up from me was shot, resulting in my apartment building being ambushed by cops. I vaguely remembered the cops knocking on my door and telling me to stay put. They made it clear that no one could leave or enter the building.

  Apparently, bikers and their broads were the exception because an hour later I was staring up at a sign that read Roll N’ Roaster.

  Jack climbed off his bike and extended his hand to me, helping me off the machine that was still humming from our ride. He unlatched the chin strap and placed my helmet beside his before pulling me toward the restaurant. The numbness in my leg was acting up, probably from the ride, and I began limping my way toward the restaurant when he paused, his eyes drifting down to my leg.

  “What’s the matter?”

  I shook my head, dismissing his question and shook my leg out. The sensation slowly started to prick my toes and travel up my leg.

  “It’s nothing, my leg fell asleep,” I shrugged my shoulders. “Poor circulation,” I added, before changing the subject.

  “What is this place?” I asked, running my fingers through my messy hair, still damp from my shower.

  He held open the door for me, ushering me inside and pierced me with a look of bewilderment.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” he questioned, pulling me by the hand toward the line. I lifted my eyes to the menu that hung over the counter noting that apparently, I was in the Mecca of melted processed cheese. The sign even said so, cheez on anything you pleez. The line moved quickly and by the time it was our turn to order I had only made it halfway through the menu.

  “You’ve really never been here?” he asked, glancing down at me.

  I shook my head and Jack took charge, ordering four roast beef sandwiches with cheese, two large orders of French fries with cheese and two cups of cheese for extra dipping. He completed the meal with two freshly squeezed lemonades before paying the girl behind the counter and taking a number.

  “Go grab napkins and get us a table,” he said, before leaning against the wood laminated wall.

  “Aren’t you going to need help to carry all that food?” I asked, his lips smirking at my question.

  “I got it, Sunshine, but if you don’t sit your pretty ass down at a table we’re going to be eating in the parking lot.”

  I glanced around the packed dining area and reluctantly went in search for a table. I spotted a booth for two in the corner of the restaurant and grabbed some napkins before sliding into the tight space. I lifted my head and was about to call out to Jack when I found him staring across the restaurant at me. I pointed to the table and his lips curved slightly before giving me a quick nod.

  I told myself to turn away, to break the stare but I couldn’t. What I did was wish for a glimpse into his thoughts. I wondered if they wer
e anything like mine. Did he want to know everything about me the way I wanted to know him? Did he want to know my past and help me write my future? Probably not.

  He glanced down at his ticket as they called a number. Moments later he was standing before me balancing a tray full of cheesy goodness. He set the food on the table, placing an order of cheese fries and a roast beef sandwich loaded with onions and cheese in front of me. It didn’t take us long to dig in.

  I was three bites in and Jack was swallowing the last bite of his first sandwich, taking a long sip of his lemonade before he spoke.

  “What do you think?” he said, motioning to the sandwich.

  “It’s delicious,” I responded, licking the cheese off my thumb. “Messy, but delicious.”

  “Don’t be afraid to get a little messy, Reina,” he suggested. “Messy can be good.”

  I looked at him for a moment, watching as he loaded his fork with fries and shoved them into his mouth.

  “You look like you’re in Heaven right now,” I joked. “Bet I could get you to do anything right now.”

  “I don’t know about anything…” he said, taking a sip of his drink. Leaning back against the booth and stretching his arms across the back, he asked, “What is it you’re looking for, Reina?”

  “Let’s play a game, we each tell one another two truths and one lie. If the other can guess which one is the lie they win,” I suggested, taking a bite of my sandwich.

  “And what does the winner get?” he questioned, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “A scar,” I murmured.

  “And if we both guess correctly?”

  “Then it’s going to be a long night,” I answered simply.

  “It’s going to be a long night anyway,” he said huskily, his eyes dropping to my breasts. “Christ, Reina you look good enough to eat,” he growled, before leaning forward. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Okay, okay, you first,” I demanded, pushing aside the food and giving him my undivided attention.

  He ran his fingers through his hair and the lines that marked the corners of his eyes became more profound as he squinted. Then he went perfectly still as he decided which truth he’d share.

  “I served ten months in Ryker’s three years ago,” he began, holding his index finger in the air, signaling that was the first admission. “I used to have a drug problem,” he added, lifting his middle finger up, indicating two. He cleared his throat, cocked his head to the side slightly as his eyes bore into mine. “Had a brother once,” he brought his thumb up to join the other two fingers. “There’s your three, Sunshine.”

  I frowned. “You suck at this Jack, two is definitely the lie,” I said, taking a slurping sip of the lemonade.

  “You sure about that?” he asked, his eyes darkening as they looked at me.

  I pulled the straw from my lips and placed the plastic cup back on the table and leaned forward, meeting his wary eyes.

  “I’m sure as the day is long that you’ve been arrested more than once, and with that being said odds are you’ve been to jail,” I remarked.

  “How perceptive of you,” he grunted.

  “And you’ve got a band of brothers, albeit some of them are quite despicable, that Wolf guy? I’m not a fan,” I said, curling my lip.

  Jack’s features relaxed and he leaned forward, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as his gaze softened.

  “Am I right?”

  “Tell me yours first,” he insisted, reaching down taking my fork and popping a mouthful of French fries into his mouth.

  “Fine, I’m afraid of the dark,” I paused when he smirked. “What?”

  “You’re not afraid of the dark,” he stated, while stabbing more French fries with my fork and trying to suppress his laughter.

  “And how would you know?”

  He lifted his eyes to mine.

  “You’re eating cheese fries with the king of fucking darkness,” he said, with a shake of his head before giving into the laugh he was trying to hold back.

  “You don’t seem so dark right now,” I pointed out.

  He shrugged his shoulders, reached out and trailed his fingertip along the bridge of my nose.

  “Wonder why that is,” he said softly, then dropped his hand and picked up his drink. “So, you lost,” he said, as he sipped his drink.

  “What? How? I didn’t even give you the two truths,” I said, quickly realizing what he had just done. Feeling stupid I slapped the palm of my hand to my forehead. “Shit!”

  He laughed, distracting me from my anger. His laughter touching something deep inside of me causing goosebumps to spread over my arms. He looked so handsome when he laughed, less tortured, even younger. I wanted to make him laugh more.

  His laughter died slowly as he started to clean the table, throwing out the leftovers. After emptying our tray at the trash can he walked back toward the table and held his hand out to me.

  “C’mon, time to go,” he announced, pulling me to my feet.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “You’re coming home with me and I’m going to give you what you earned and hope like hell that maybe I earned another one of your scars,” he said, roughly against my ear as he splayed his palm against my lower back and ushered me out of the restaurant.

  We stepped outside of Roll N’ Roaster, Jack holding the door for me, and I reached down for his hand, lacing my fingers with his.

  He squeezed my hand.

  He might as well have squeezed my heart.

  I stopped walking, and he turned around to see why.

  “They’re ugly,” I whispered. “My scars. They’re ugly.”

  He tugged my hand and my body collided against his. He tipped my chin up with his index finger, forcing my eyes to meet his.

  “They a part of you?” he questioned, not waiting for the answer. “Then they’re not ugly. Let me show you how beautiful they can be,” he said softly, as his finger trailed my lip. “Give me your scars, baby,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. “Let me be the one who sets you free from them.”

  Yes.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I pulled into the gated parking lot of the compound and parked right in front, turning my bike off. I felt Reina’s arms tighten around my waist. I removed my helmet and stared at the men, my club, staring at me like I had lost my goddamn mind.

  “I thought you were taking me home with you?” she asked, whispering against my ear. I reached down and squeezed her hand as I looked back at my brothers. Wolf leaned over and whispered something in Blackie’s ear and my VP merely shook his head.

  “This is my home,” I declared, unraveling her hands from my waist and maneuvering off the bike.

  “Is that the pie goddess?” Riggs called out. “No way, it’s really her!”

  “Look who found her way back to us,” Pipe added, rubbing his hands together like he was about to indulge in a feast. I’d fucking kill him.

  “Jack,” Reina whispered, her eyes focused over my shoulder at the men looking to sample her.

  Fucking vultures.

  Time to set these bastards straight.

  Reina was mine, mine to use, mine to fuck, and mine to conquer. Not sure about that last part, not sure what I wanted from her but I was certain I wasn’t sharing her. Not with my brothers, and not with my blood brother either. I’d erase her past, take away the memories that haunted her and make her whole again. I could do that.

  Not sure why the fuck I wanted to do that but I could do it.

  I could give Reina what she needed and in turn take what I needed.

  But what I needed was more than what I expected and so much more than I ever had before.

  “No, Reina, this is me, this is my life and if you want in, you want my truth, this is the truth of who I am,” I stated, piercing her with a hard stare. “What’s it going to be?”

  She looked like a deer caught in headlights, frightened, unsure if she should stay put, turn
and run or leap forward.

  She took a step closer and then another, closing the space between us, deciding to leap forward, I wrapped my arms around her waist. I pulled her body against mine, releasing a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. I bent my head forward and covered her mouth with mine. I worked her lips, my tongue easing its way home inside of her mouth. I slid my hands into the back pockets of her jeans and squeezed her ass through the denim, pressing her into my erection.

  Mine.

  Her arms wrapped around my neck and her fingers toyed with the ends of my hair as she moaned softly into my mouth.

  My club faded away, my tortured mind lost, all my sorrows disappeared. There was nothing but Reina.

  I slowly pulled back, feeling her breath against my wet lips. I wrapped one arm around her waist and turned around to face my club.

  “See you on the other side, gentlemen,” I bit back the grin that threatened my lips as they stared at me in silence.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Bulldog,” Pipe roared, with a grin firmly planted on his face. “Did you just claim this one?”

  I glanced down at Reina, her eyes staring up at me in wonderment as I pressed my lips to the tip of her nose.

  “I guess I did,” I murmured.

  I suppose there was something to be said about that, as it was I hadn’t staked claim on a woman since Connie, but fuck if I knew what that something was.

  I led Reina through the compound, to the second floor where our rooms were and pushed open the door to my room. I could’ve taken her to my house, but she wanted the truth about me and the truth was I never slept there unless I had my daughter. Lacey was just a kid when her mother and I split, and we agreed I would not parent her at the clubhouse. I kept Lacey out of this life, or at least I tried. It was my brothers who brought her up to visit me when I was in Ryker’s. Still, she wasn’t present at clubhouse parties and only came to the compound under dire circumstances.

  Women were a different story; this bedroom had seen a lot of pussy but it never saw sunshine.

  I closed the door, locking it behind me and watched as Reina scoped out my space.