by Lynn Burke
Although bummed out, I smiled, truly happy he’d done so. “Guess I’ll head over to the club, then.”
“You could always keep my mom company.” He waggled his eyebrows, and I snorted a laugh.
“She won’t let me in the door.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.”
His words burned through me, and with Ricky’s location still a mystery, by Sunday, I’d had enough. I needed some fucking closure in one way or another, and Mila lay less than a hundred yards away.
I knocked and waited, not bothering to hold my breath. Needing something, I knocked again. Harder. “Come on, wildcat,” I growled, knocking a third time.
She wrenched the door open, ripping the breath from my chest. Hair dripping, a towel wrapped around her body, she glared at me with dark, flashing eyes.
“I was in the tub. What do you want?” she spat.
I cleared my throat and forced my focus on her face rather than the swell of her breasts I’d never gotten a good look at. “Can we talk?”
“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
A muscle ticked in my jaw, and I stepped forward, being the bully she wanted to believe me to be.
“What are you doing?” she asked, scuttling back a few feet and grasping her towel tight against her chest with two hands.
I shut the door and turned toward her, my face and eyes unshielded and open for her to read whatever the fuck she wished.
She licked her lower lip and glanced away, a shiver pebbling her skin.
The drive to dominate, take what we both wanted rushed through me, and I stepped forward, running my fingers through her soaked hair.
“Stop touching me.”
“No,” I tossed back, so damn done with her shit.
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t, wildcat. You hate the idea of me.” I dropped my hand and fisted them both at my sides to keep from yanking her into me. “Or rather, that preconceived notion in your head that I’m like the asshole who did you wrong.”
“You are like him.”
I moved in, and she stepped back, both of us not stopping until the wall hit her back. “Look me in the eye and tell me that, Mila.”
She lifted her face with a stubborn tilt, pissiness in her eyes, sure, but pure fucking lust as well.
“Gonna kiss you, wildcat,” I warned her, my gaze dropping to her lush mouth.
“No.”
I grinned and leaned in close enough to breathe in her sweet, panted exhales. “Yes.”
“Damn you, Vigil,” she moaned, her husky voice betraying her.
“Give me permission, wildcat.”
“No.” She shook her head even though her dark eyes with their blown out pupils wouldn’t look away from mine.
“Mila.”
One whimper—and she scaled up my body like a goddamn monkey, plastering her mouth to mine. Took me all of one stuttered heartbeat of mind-blown fuckery to respond. My hands grasped her ass and I pressed forward, slamming her back against the wall, taking control of a kiss she thought to take from me before I stole it from her.
Her tongue begged entry, and I let her have it, groaning as her sweet taste filled my mouth. Goddamn, the hunger … grasping hands at my hair and shoulders, moans and whimpers escaping her into my mouth, and her squirming body, fucking lush curves grinding against me.
I dug my fingers into the flesh of her thighs, hitching her higher and settling her against my aching dick. The towel sagged to her waist, and I ripped it away, grinding against her core.
“I don’t want this,” she whined against my mouth while rubbing herself all over my jeans.
I shoved a hand between us to cup her pussy and damn near lost it at the slick wetness coating my palm. “Stop lying to me, wildcat. Your dripping pussy says otherwise.”
“Goddamn you, Vigil.”
“My soul is already damned. I need someone to save the rest of me.”
Chapter Twenty
Mila
His words echoed in my head as he claimed my mouth, and my body melted into him, needing more. So much more.
“Vigil,” I whispered against his mouth, and he pressed two fingers deep inside my emptiness, the rough pads of those tips finding what no man had before. “Oh, God.” I tore my mouth from his and tipped my head back, gasping for breath as he played me like a fine harp and him the master of its strings.
He latched onto my neck, the springy hairs of his beard soft yet abrasive, sending tingles across my skin and tightening every muscle in my body. “Fuck, wildcat.” He pumped his fingers slowly in and out of my sopping core while tasting every inch of my neck, lifting me higher with the hand beneath my ass to get to my breasts.
“Fuck,” he muttered again, burying his face in my chest, lips, tongue, and teeth making themselves right at home. His thumb found my clit and teeth clasped over my aching nipple.
“God.” I clasped his head, holding him right there. Right, fucking there. My breath caught—and I came hard as hell, creaming all over his fingers, jerking in his hold, his name panting from my parched mouth.
“Vigil,” I breathed, and he lifted his head, taking my mouth again, grinding away against the back of his hand still rubbing at my core.
I came again, crying out my release in his mouth, and he groaned, drinking down every whimper, soothing every shudder that rippled over me while coming down. He trapped me against the wall with his hips while pushing my wet hair back and cradling my face with one hand.
Lust still shone from his pale eyes, but more resided beyond. Enough it scared the shit out of me. He slowly sucked his fingers clean then kissed me gently, and goddamn my own soul, I couldn’t keep from responding regardless of the tangy taste of me on his tongue.
“I don’t want this,” I said against his mouth, my eyelids screwed shut so damn hard I frowned.
“Then stop kissing me. Stop touching me.”
“I can’t.” I pulled back to find my hands still threaded in his hair as he continued to cradle my face in his calloused, gentle palms.
“I’m not him.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and I couldn’t find my voice.
“I’m not him, Mila.”
“I know,” I managed, and a tear slid down my cheek. He licked the salty droplet, and another shudder rippled through me, sagging me against his rock hard body.
“Give me a chance to prove it.” He brushed his lips over mine even though lust had him hard as steel between my thighs. “Give me a chance to earn your trust.” Burying his face in my neck, he found my sensitive flesh with his hand again.
“I don’t just want this pussy—I’ve always wanted more. From the first time I saw you, I needed more.”
Goddamn him to hell and back.
I loosened my hold on his hair and wiggled until he set me on my feet.
“Mila?” Vigil stepped back, giving me the space I needed, and I wrapped my arms around my chest. He grabbed my towel and handed it to me, pausing when his gaze slipped to the apex of my thighs. “You’re a blonde.”
I snatched the towel and wrapped it around me with trembling hands while his focus flitted up to the dark hair atop my head. “Yes, I’m really blonde,” I snapped as he frowned. “I’ve lied about a lot of things.”
“I know the truth.” He met my stare head on. “And I understand why you lied, but no more, Mila. If you keep hiding shit from me, I can’t protect you.”
“It’s not your job.” I scuttled around him, heading for the door.
“It is,” he argued, his tone not inviting a contrary response, but I didn’t give a shit.
“What the hell makes you think it is?” I shot back, grasping the door’s knob.
“Because you’re mine.”
Fire raced through me, and so not the kind he probably hoped for. I fucking snapped, shooting daggers over my shoulder at him. “The hell I am.” I yanked open
the door. “I belong to no man, Frankie Capello. I won’t be a possession. Won’t allow a biker asshole to hurt me or my son ever again. Get. Out. And stay away from us.”
He stared at me, hands fisted at his sides, his cock still hard and alongside his thigh—unfinished and hopefully aching if the wet spot at the head was any indication.
I hated that drool flooded my mouth.
“Out,” I snapped again, stomping my foot and pointing into the night. “Now.”
Vigil’s glaze slowly slid over my face as though memorizing every line, every hint of wrinkle that had made an appearance in the previous year. “I’ll always honor your requests, wildcat.” He walked past me, and I slammed the door behind him with finality.
Tears welled in my eyes, but I bit my lip to keep the rising sob suppressed. My emotions sucked at my sanity like an undertow, and I made it to my bed before giving up the fight.
Chapter Twenty-One
Vigil
Mila managed to keep Devon away, and I felt like my thumb got lobbed off. That damn ache from losing Ricky intensified, and I couldn’t fucking deal. The taste of Mila lingered in my memory, the scent of her coating my nose all damn week long.
Couldn’t fucking sleep.
Couldn’t fucking find my brother.
Not a single brother, old lady, or club whore had any hint of where he’d run off to. I called the other chapters across the country, informing them of his disappearance. Klingon out in Vegas suggested reporting him missing to the authorities.
He didn’t know me well enough to know what I thought of the fuzz and their holier than thou attitudes.
The only satisfaction I gained in that week was the story making all the local news stations. Seemed a couple football players from the high school down the road had been out partying and wrapped their car around the tree. All five occupants died upon impact. Too damn easy a way to go—I had to agree with Ryker, but there was no possible way for the accident to lead back to us.
While the town mourned their loss, I watched the Zeigler household like a fucking hawk. Turned out Mila had kept something else from me besides just her son. Two of the Demons on house arrest had taken off according to Devil, and hadn’t been found.
I wondered why Pritt or one of his guys didn’t watch the house. I wondered why Mila didn’t just take off on her own. Did she believe the fucker could actually keep them safe?
Smoking a joint became a nightly ritual, but I still fell asleep with a full mind and an aching heart.
Mila Zeigler fucking owned me. Knowing I wouldn’t ever get the chance to show her that truth wrecked what little sanity I clung to. Something had to fucking give, or I feared I was going to go off the deep end like my brother.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mila
Marshal Pritt called with an update, but not the one I’d hoped to hear. The two Demons were still on the loose, but according to him, I had nothing to fear. Of course not. Tension rode my shoulders into absolute knots, and I barked at Devon more than usual.
“What’s the problem, Mom,” he finally confronted me, hands on hips while I sat at the table long after dinner rather than outside, my tea in my hands.
I heaved a sigh and confessed to what I’d known for almost two weeks. “Two of the Demons escaped house arrest.”
“Fuck.”
Not bothering to chide him, I nodded at the sentiment.
“What does Pritt say?” Devon asked.
“Not much,” I muttered. “He says we’re safe right where we are, that no one has ever gotten injured under their protection.”
“There’s always a first.”
“Right?” I huffed another heavy breath and closed my eyes.
“So what are we gonna do?”
“Stay put.” I looked up at him. “What else can we do? We have no stash of money, no connections. I don’t even have a gun.”
He chewed on the inside of his lip for a few seconds. “We could probably get one from Vigil.”
“No,” I snapped.
“What else is wrong, Mom?”
I couldn’t help but smile sadly at my son’s intuition.
“Does it have something to do with him?”
My smile faded. “You need to stay away from him. It’s definitely for the best.”
“If staying away from him is a good thing then why are you miserable?”
Devon had a point, and I nodded at the tea in my mug before glancing up once more to read his face. “I wasn’t kind to him.”
My son shrugged like it was no big deal, but a wily twinkle lit his eyes. “Then make it up to him.”
“Devon.” I pursed my lips.
“Take him cookies, Mom. Sheesh, your mind is always in the gutter when it comes to Vigil.”
I side-eyed him while he turned to rifle through the snack cabinet.
“Why don’t you go over for a little visit,” he said, pulling down a bag of pizza Combos. “Make things right so I can have my best friend back.”
“I thought you had a new best friend.”
“Yeah, but he’ll never compare to Vigil.” Devon popped a few Combos into his mouth and watched me.
No one could compare with Vigil, I feared, not just for Devon but myself as well—and the man hadn’t even touched me in the way we definitely both craved. Could I make things right? Did I want to? Maybe for Devon, but for myself...
“No sex,” I muttered out loud when I should have kept the thought inside.
“Don’t see why you abstain. He likes and wants you. You want him.”
I frowned up at my son. “You forgot the part about me liking him.”
“Come on.” He rolled his eyes and dug another handful of cheese stuffed pretzels from the bag. “There isn’t anything about that man you don’t like.”
“I don’t like that he’s a biker.”
“Don’t you?” Devon eyed me, all trace of teasing gone from his dark eyes as he peered at me. “If he wasn’t a club member, I doubt he’d be so protective. I doubt he’d be as loyal to his loved ones as he is.”
I considered the situation Vigil had told me about with his brother and how the troubles had definitely affected him emotionally. He loved his brother, I had zero doubt. He also loved my son—again, no doubt. He’d also claimed out loud that I belonged to him. Did that mean he loved me, too?
Sagging in my chair, I attempted a smile.
“Just go talk to him,” Devon said. “I’ll lock the door behind you—but take your phone and keep it on you just in case you need me to come rescue you or something.”
I laughed lightly. “Are you becoming the helicopter parent now?”
“Nah. I’m encouraging you to head out into the great unknown, take what you want, and enjoy the hell out of that fun.”
“Devon Zeigler!”
He laughed and took off for the living room. “Just be safe!”
Little turd. But he had a point. Vigil loved hard outside of the bedroom and he didn’t cut off his emotions. I’d seen traces of anger, but not the unusual sort that raised red flags. I did love his protective nature, how he didn’t hide his thoughts and feelings from me. Vigil had zero filter on his mouth, but I’ll admit to liking that, too.
So did I like him?
Yes, yes I do.
Did I want him?
I craved him. His nearness. Those hands, those damn hands that had gotten me off better than any man’s cock...
Lips pursed, I considered the war inside my head and heart. There was no denying the connection between us, the electric charge of energy whenever he entered the room. So what to do?
“You’re over-thinking this, Mom!” Devon hollered from the living room.
I thought for another minute before getting up from the table and dumping my tea down the drain.
Devon didn’t breathe a word as I went back to the bathroom and showered. He didn’t
even look my way when I walked back through the living room dressed rather than bumbling around in my robe like I’d been doing every night for the past couple of days.
“Lock up, baby.”
He shuffled out to the kitchen behind me and gave me a quick hug from behind, kissing the top of my head. “Be happy, Mom.”
