by Franca Storm
She moaned out as I nuzzled the side of her neck.
I trailed my lips up to hers, kissing her hard.
All the life-altering revelations of the last few days, the stress, the rage, the fear for Tasha and our kid, rose up, taking me over. It came out in an explosion of passion all over Tasha.
I couldn’t fucking hold back.
As I kissed her hard and deep, she clung to me all desperate, her nails digging into my biceps, making it clear she needed the wild as much as I did right now.
Our lips clashed real roughly, our tongues tangling. I shoved her jacket off her shoulders, then opened her jeans and she gasped into my mouth when I slid my hand inside her panties and cupped her wet pussy. Jesus, she was soaked already. It worked me up even more and the next thing I knew, I was pulling her jeans down her legs.
“Kick,” I told her.
Panting, she kicked them off her feet, then jumped at me.
I caught her, grasping her ass and hauling her into my arms. She grabbed at my shoulders and rolled her hips, rubbing her wet pussy against my jean-clad cock.
Fuck.
“Damn, Tasha, this is gonna be rough and wild as fuck. You’ve got me too worked up, it can’t be any other way.”
She answered me by slamming her lips to mine and thrusting her tongue into my mouth. I carried her to the ensuite bathroom in the master bedroom, kicking open the door.
As I reached over and turned on the shower, she pulled on my hair, frantically trying to bring me closer to her.
I felt her hand on my belt then. Pulling my mouth from hers, I stripped off my t-shirt and watched her opening my jeans. I’d never seen her work so quickly. Hot damn. Her fingers wrapped around my cock, forcing a groan from me, as she pulled it out and started jerking me off.
“Shower sex, huh?”
I’d been wanting to take a shower to wash off the day, all the talk of the shipment she’d been forced to put into place.
But dinner had been the first time we’d had together all day. Then that had been interrupted by Slade’s call. I didn’t want to be away from her again. Not with the uneasiness that just wouldn’t leave me because of all the bullshit ahead of us. I had to be with her right now. And I could tell she was feeling the same way.
So, fucking in the shower worked out well.
I grabbed her sweater and pulled it up over her head, just before I stepped into the shower with her in my arms.
“Cole! You’re still wearing your jeans!” she cried, eyeing them getting soaked as I stood with my back against the shower, shielding her from the brunt of the streaming, high-pressured water.
I wiggled my eyebrows, eyeing her pink panties. “And your panties are soaked, baby.” I cupped her silk-covered pussy, getting a breathy moan out of her. “In more ways than one.”
I hastily shucked off my jeans.
Her eyes burned into mine as she pulled her panties off. “I can’t wait any longer.”
“Me neither,” I growled, grabbing her hips and spinning her around. She braced her hands on the tiled wall and arched her back, pushing her sexy-as-fuck ass up, displaying herself for me.
I took one hand off her hip and grasped the base of my cock, shifting my weight behind her.
Then I slammed into her, driving my cock deep.
She screamed out in pleasure, bucking wildly against the wall.
Her reaction just spurred me on and I fisted my hand in her hair, tugging as I fucked her tight little pussy hard and rough, just the way we both needed it right now.
“Yes! Yes, Cole!” she cried. “Oh God. Harder! More! Please!”
Yeah, that was what I wanted. Her beside herself, desperate and begging. The way she always lost her goddamn mind when my cock was buried deep inside her got me off like nothing else.
I fucked her over and over, the pleasure, my need for her, so fucking intense, I didn’t want it to end.
But, as I fingered her clit, giving it a couple of gentle brushes, and her pussy clenched hard around my shaft, I knew I couldn’t hold on much longer. I’d been right the first time. This was gonna be intense, rough, and fast.
She proved my point with my next thrust, as she clamped down around me so damned hard and threw her head back, her orgasm ripping through her. I claimed her mouth, swallowing her screams, grunting, my thrusts moving to slow and deep as she took me with her.
“Jesus Christ,” I rasped at her ear, resting my head on her shoulder while I came down from it all. “I’ve got you, Tasha. You know that? Beyond a doubt, yeah?”
She craned her neck to look at me, a sweet smile lighting up her face. “Yeah, I know. And I love you for it, for everything.”
A sense of peace washed over me and I stroked her hair, telling her, “I love you too.”
9
~Cole~
“SO, THE CLUB SORTED IT? There weren’t any repercussions?” I asked down the line, my phone pressed tight to my ear in my uncontainable urgency.
I’d been on edge for the last couple of days, waiting to see how things played out. It was under my skin, big time. My job, something that I took a hell of a lot of pride in, was to protect the club at all costs. Yet, with this fucked-up situation, I’d had to stand by and let a breach happen. I’d been completely useless, not only because I was miles away, but because Nik had me over a barrel. If I’d tried to stop it, shit would’ve come back on me, Slade, and the club as a whole, ten times over.
“It’s taken care of,” Slade confirmed down the line. “If I hadn’t received that heads up from you and Natasha, it woulda been a real different story, though. We gotta sort this and take care of Nik before he pulls any more shit like this.”
“I know,” I ground out.
“Ain’t blaming you, Cole. Baranov needed putting down. Don’t regret authorizing that. Only thing I’m regretting is not taking Nik out way sooner all to try to avoid a goddamn war.” He growled low in his throat. “Now a fucking war’s here anyway. Motherfucking piece of shit.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Just get back here and make sure she comes with you. Told the boys you’re bringing her in for interrogation ‘bout the job. Once she’s here, I’ll lay out the real deal to ‘em all. Better having her here first, cuz the boys ain’t gonna trust shit when it comes to her and Nik ‘til it’s right in their face. Rumors ain’t gonna be believed.”
“The second I bring her across the border, Nik will go absolutely apeshit.”
“We’re gonna have you covered. Just get your ass back here. She’s under club protection ‘til the mission’s done, all right? You ain’t gotta worry.”
“Yeah, okay. We’re heading out in ten.”
“Good.”
We hung up and I drew in a breath as I tried to keep my cool.
You ain’t gotta worry. Bullshit. That was all there fucking well was to do right now. The whole situation had grown more complicated by the goddamn day. There were so many balls in the air, so much that couldn’t be guaranteed and controlled, that I was losing my fucking mind over it. I couldn’t stand not having total control and this was so far from that.
There were just way too many unknowns.
Way too many risk factors.
Way too many unstable elements.
Nik’s psychotic and unpredictable nature, especially when it came to his long-term obsession with Natasha, meant we had no idea how he’d react.
Whether Slade would remain levelheaded or lose it and give in to his long-term mission of retribution against Nik and unleash, breaking from our planned strategy.
Whether the club would accept Natasha once Slade laid out the plan to them.
Whether Natasha would stand firm and go ahead with the whole thing.
And then there was me. Would I be able to stomach sending my pregnant woman into the fray when the time actually came?
“Cole?”
I turned at the sound of Natasha’s voice.
Jesus Christ.
I had to do a double t
ake as my gaze landed on her.
“Shit,” I choked out. “You know we need to keep a low profile, right?”
She shrugged innocently. “You told me to wear leathers. These are all I have. I thought you knew that.”
“With everything that’s been happening, I guess I forgot.” Damn, it really spoke to how fucked-up things were that I’d forgotten this outfit of hers. She was decked out head-to-toe in skintight leather that showed off every single curve her smoking hot body had to offer. If that wasn’t enough to attract attention, the thing was neon-pink.
“I can change. I mean, we don’t have time to get more leathers. The shop is way across the other side of the city, but I can put on jeans, or something.”
I grasped her arm as she turned to go. “No. We’re riding fast and hard all the way back to the clubhouse. You need the protection of the leathers.”
“Okay,” she said with a smile, stroking my hand on her arm.
I watched her step back and look down at herself with a frown. “What’s wrong?”
Her hand dropped to her belly. “It won’t be long before I can’t wear things like this. I’m already six weeks along. I’m going to start showing really soon.”
I stepped into her and slid my arms around her waist. “I can’t wait.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I said, pulling her closer. “Seeing our baby growing inside you… it’s going to be incredible.”
“You’re so happy about it.”
“You didn’t think I would be? Is that why you waited to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to complicate things for you.” She cast her eyes down and murmured shamefully, “I’ve already done enough of that to last a lifetime.”
“No. The complications you’re talking about all stem from one thing, one person. It’s not your fault.”
She pulled back, eyeing me incredulously. “Do you really believe that, or are you just being nice because of this?” she asked, gesturing to her belly.
I smiled. She was hella cute when she was feeling vulnerable. I knew she hated it, hated putting herself out there in any way and risking her heart in that way. She went to great lengths to avoid ending up in any situation where she wasn’t in full control as top dog.
I got that real well. Hell, we were the same when it came to that. It was survival instinct. Given my dark childhood, I knew all about that, doing whatever it took to make it through and fucking well thrive.
And because I got it, I knew what she really needed. In fact, I was the only one who understood her like that, the only one who knew how to handle her.
And it worked both ways.
I cupped her face gently in my hands, her eyes connecting with mine, just the way I needed so I could read her properly.
“First off, I’m always nice.”
She arched her eyebrow in challenge.
“Fine. With you. I’m always nice with you.”
“That’s better,” she agreed.
I shifted my weight as I held her. “Second, yeah, I do believe it. You met that shithead when you were young and way more naïve. You had no clue about the obsessive psycho he was. He hides it well. The whole thing forced your hand on some extremely difficult decisions, including the thing with the club. I don’t blame you.”
“Cole,” she said, urgency spilling from her. “I ran from the clubhouse and from you, because I thought it would protect you and the boys from Nik's wrath. My normal survival instinct sparked to life at first because it’d been so ingrained in me for years, but that day, you managed to trump that. That’s when I first really knew that I loved you.” Pain flashed in her eyes. “I wish so much that my survival instincts hadn’t led me first though, then the thing with Mason never would have—”
I pressed my finger to her lips. “Shh. It’s all okay. I know, baby, I know. And I get it. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, you were scared, and it made you desperate.”
She eased my hand away to tell me, “But it’s not in the past to Mason and we’re heading right to him and the rest of your club that hates me.”
“All that hate he has for you is a goddamn mask he’s been using to cover up the fact that he crossed a line.” I blew out a breath, bracing myself to reveal a truth neither me nor Mason had ever been able to admit. That denial was the reason the rift in our friendship had never fully mended. “He fucking well wanted you and he was gonna have you that day, in spite of me.”
“I know. I hadn’t expected such an… enthusiastic response from him.”
“Yeah, so that’s why it’s hate with him rather than distrust toward you like it is with the rest of the boys. It’s his own fucking fault.”
“Everyone makes mistakes, Cole. We need to make peace.”
I could only grunt.
Even if I had the inclination, it would be a major uphill battle to fix everything. A fucking headache is what it would be, and I had more than enough to sort right now.
Off her look, I added, “We’ll see.” And then I refocused on what I needed to tell her, what I wanted to make damn sure she knew. I settled my arms back around her. “I’m not here with you only because you’re pregnant. But it is the wake-up call we both needed to finally get our shit together, to stop letting all that external shit control us. It’s put things in perspective, big time. I’ve wanted this for a long while, Natasha. And I’m not backing down. Not this time. Not ever. Not for anything or anyone.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “Okay.”
“Are you okay? With the baby? With everything else?” She hadn’t said much at all. She’d just gone along with me, which was strange in itself. She was normally so forthright and fiercely independent.
“I'm still a little shell-shocked. I never thought my life would allow for anything normal like a baby and a family. But now it’s here, I’ve got this anxiety in the pit of my stomach that just won’t go away.”
“It’s okay to be scared about having a kid, being parents. It’s a huge deal for anyone, let alone two people who lead fucked-up lives like us.”
“It’s not just that. I’m scared of… of losing it… the baby, then you again. There’s so much standing in our way, so many threats surrounding us. What if—”
“No, baby. That’s not going to happen and I’m not going anywhere. No matter what. I swear it.”
“So, we end this together.”
I nodded. “We’ll deal with Nik, sort things with the club and make it safe for our kid.” I pulled her tighter to me and breathed her in. “Together.”
10
~Natasha~
ADRENALINE SPIKED.
My pulse hammered wildly. My breathing came in rapid, strained pants.
I tightened my hold around Cole’s waist. I heard him grunt as, in the midst of my panic, I inadvertently squeezed a little too tightly.
“Cole!” I hissed in his ear, hoping he’d be able to hear me over the thunder of his Harley roaring down yet another seemingly endless two-lane back road.
“I know,” he said, turning his head enough so I could hear him, while he still kept an eagle-eyed focus on the winding road.
I shot another glance over my shoulder at the unmarked van and Suzuki that’d been tailing us for the last ten minutes. The bike’s rider was sporting a Strikers MC cut. I shuddered when I realized why the van had been brought along. Nik had sent them to grab me for him.
Cole grasped my jacket and jerked me back against him. “Stay tight to me.”
“What? Why?” I cried. What the hell was he planning on doing?
“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured me. “I’ve got you.”
He was using his appeasing tone with me. Just like he had a couple of hours ago back at my condo when I’d been freaking out about everything. Just like I was now. He knew how nervous riding on his bike made me. It wasn’t the wildness of it or anything. I was a bit of a wild driver myself. Given the work that I did, the dangerous existence I li
ved, I’d been in a few situations where I’d had to use some badass evasive driving skills to protect myself. But I’d been in full control then. Riding bitch on Cole’s bike offered no semblance of control at all and it was unnerving, putting me on edge the entire time.
I loved Cole and I trusted him.
But I still couldn’t shake my uneasiness.
I watched Cole tap the earpiece over his right ear. I strained to hear what he was relaying.
“Slade. Got four on my six. One riding, three in a van. One hour out. No, they won’t shoot. Nik would never risk her like that. Yeah. Uh huh. Got it.”
He tapped the earpiece again, ending the call, as he turned his head and called to me, “Hold on real tight.”
“Wait. Why?” I asked, unable to hide my anxiety.
“Gonna lose them.”
I swallowed hard and pressed my body as closely to him as possible, holding onto him so tightly, my arms like steel bands around his waist.
My stomach lurched the instant he initiated his plan.
Rubber burned.
Screeching filled my ears.
The bike shot forward.
It weaved and swayed from side to side.
It was brutal and I wasn’t sure my body was going to be able to handle it.
Our pursuers sprang into action when they realized Cole was launching evasive maneuvers. The van sped up, tailgating us, while the Suzuki rode into the oncoming traffic lane, coming up on our left side.
Cole shifted his weight and took his left hand off the handlebar as the guy reached us, riding parallel. Why wasn’t Cole speeding up? I knew his Harley had the means to do a hell of a lot more than he was currently doing with it.
Over the roar of both bikes, the Suzuki’s rider called out, “Pull over and nobody gets hurt!”
I rolled my eyes. Not only were the Strikers known for breaking promises, but they were also all about the hurt.
“Like hell,” Cole muttered.
The next thing I knew, the bike was lurching as Cole shot out his hand, delivering a chop to the rider’s right arm that had him losing his grip on the throttle. The asshole cursed and flailed, his bike dropping back dramatically.
