Every Breath You Take (Bayou Devils MC Book 3)

by A. M. Myers

  When we get to the front porch, I turn to face him and grip his shirt, pulling him to me as I press my lips to his. He lets out a low groan as his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me even closer as I slip my arms behind his neck. Stumbling in the dark, he moves us to the side of the house and my back presses against the doorbell. It rings from the other side of the door and I pull away as I start laughing.

  “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Where were we?”

  I lean in, letting my lips brush his. “Right about here, I think.”

  He kisses me, mutters “Keys,” and kisses me again as I slip them into his hand. As he pulls back to focus on getting the door unlocked, I press my lips against his neck, loving the scratch of stubble on my lips as I breathe in his rugged scent. He groans and flicks his hips against me.

  “Fuck, that feels good.”

  Smiling, I lick a slow path up the side of his neck before nipping at his ear. “Unlock the door, baby.”

  “I’m fucking trying but that is a little distracting.”

  I giggle and blow a stream of cold air across his neck. He shudders in my arms with another groan.

  “I don’t want to wait anymore, Lincoln. Tonight, I want you to make love to me.”

  He groans, planting his fist on the side of the house as his cock jerks against my thigh.

  “Baby,” he breathes. “Give me two seconds to get this fucking door open and then it’s on.”

  I nod and press gentle kisses against his neck as he slips the key into the deadbolt and unlocks the door. Once we’re in the house, he slams the door shut behind us and locks it again, not even bothering to turn on the lights as he kicks his shoes off on the way to the stairs. His fingertips scrape up my thigh as he pulls my dress up and over my head, leaving me in only panties as I fumble with his belt.

  He releases me to pull his shirt over his head and I trail one hand down his stomach as my mouth waters.

  “Keep looking at me like that, Darlin’, and tonight is going to be a whole lot rougher than I intended.”

  I meet his eyes. “Good. That’s how I want it.”

  “Fuck,” he hisses, slamming me up against the wall in the hallway and slamming his lips on mine as I pull his hair, urging him on. “Get my pants off.”

  I grab his belt and unhook it as he bites into my neck and my eyes flutter closed, heat flooding my body.

  “Pants, baby,” he growls, his hands seemingly all over me at once like he can’t get enough. Forcing myself to focus, I manage to undo his belt and shove his jeans over his hips before they fall to the floor. He steps out of them and effortlessly picks me up, turning toward the stairs.

  “Wait,” I yelp and he pauses. “I moved rooms. I’m down here now.”

  I point to my mom’s old bedroom and he nods, quickly changing direction and charging through the door before tossing me on the bed.

  “Shit, condoms,” he mutters, looking back to the hallway where he left his pants and I laugh as I point to the bedside table. I didn’t think it would happen tonight but I was prepared for whenever it did happen. He marches over to the table and grabs one out of the drawer before standing in front of me and holding out his hand. I take it and he helps me to my knees as he molds me to his body and wraps his arm around my waist.

  “I never stood a chance against you,” he whispers, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against my lips. I thread my fingers through his hair as I pull back. “What I feel with you, for you, I never thought I would love someone like this.”

  Tears burn my eyes. “You love me?”

  “Yeah, baby. I fucking love you, think I have since the moment I first saw you.”

  I beam, pulling him in to another kiss as I work up the courage to admit my feelings. As he leans back, I sigh. “I love you, too, Lincoln. You’re everything that I’ve been waiting all these years for and at this point, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  It’s so weird how you can go through most of your life and be so self-sufficient and then you meet someone and in the blink of an eye, they are an integral part of who you are – like you were never truly you or whole until the moment your eyes met theirs.

  “We’ll have time to talk about all this later but I’m just letting you know now that I’m never walking away from you. You are my everything and I have no future if you’re not in it,” he whispers.

  Our lips meet in the space between us, no one leading the kiss this time as we fall back onto the bed with him on top of me. He kisses down my jaw to my neck before planting kisses across my chest and I arch off the bed, begging for more. I grab his hand and move it to my breast, earning a grin from him as his fingers squeeze my flesh and I sigh.

  “Lincoln,” I pant, my clit pulsing with need and my entire body aching for more. “Panties off.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he chants, moving between my thighs and licking his lips as he slowly peels the lacy material down my legs before tossing it over his head. Leaning in, he kisses the inside of my thigh and I jerk beneath him, mentally screaming at him to move a little higher.

  “You need something, baby?” He chuckles and I moan, lifting my hips off the bed.

  “Please, Linc. I need it.”

  He groans. “Fuck, I love hearing you beg, baby.”

  Spreading my legs, he kisses my thigh again before flicking his tongue over my clit softly. I sigh, gripping the sheets underneath me as he keeps a slow steady pressure with his tongue.

  “Lincoln,” I moan, slipping my fingers into his hair. He groans and the sound vibrates across my flesh, earning another moan from me. He starts with long slow drags of his tongue before taking a break and switching to short, fast flicks to my clit. Each one sends me climbing to a glorious release before he changes it again and I’m practically back at square one.

  I yank his hair in frustration and he chuckles before sucking my clit into his mouth. I cry out, arching off the bed, and he pushes me back down as he slips a finger inside me.

  “Fuck, baby. You’re soaked.”

  I nod. “Why don’t you do something about it?”

  “Yeah?” he asks, standing and shoving his boxer briefs down his legs. His hand wraps around his impressive length and my sex clenches as I watch him stroke the shaft. “This what you want?”

  “Yes.” The word comes out as a desperate whisper and I reach for him. “Please.”

  Growling, he grabs the condom off the bed and tears it open, his molten gaze locked on me as he slides it on. My heart hammers in my chest as he settles between my thighs and gazes down at me.

  “Hey, Tate,” he whispers and I nod.

  “Yeah?”

  Leaning in, he kisses me so softly, so reverently that I almost cry before pulling away. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” I whisper with a nod as the head of his cock presses against my entrance and he slides inside. I gasp, gripping his arms as he slowly works himself inside me and when his hips meet mine, he strokes my face.

  “Okay?”

  I nod. “It’s just been a while.”

  “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispers, inching out of my pussy before slowly sinking back in. “I’ll take care of you. Always.”

  “Linc.”

  At the sound of his name on my lips, his eyes close and he groans, thrusting forward a little harder. My legs wrap around his waist and all bets are off. He grabs my hands and pins them to the bed over my head with one hand while the other grips my hip. He pulls out and sinks into me again and again, hitting the perfect spot each time he drives forward that it doesn’t take long before I’m trembling beneath him.

  Pressure builds in my belly and I moan, managing to wiggle one hand free to cling to him. He releases the other and my fingers dig into his back as a powerful orgasm washes through me.

  “Oh, fuck,” I cry, throwing my head back and lifting my hips off the bed as my pussy clamps down on him. Dropping his head to my shoulder, he groans, his muscles tensing as his cock jerks inside me. Our panting is the only sound in the
room until he pulls back and meets my eyes. Happiness bubbles out of me and I have no other choice but to start giggling and he joins me, shaking his head as he presses his lips to my forehead.

  “I hope you weren’t planning on getting any sleep tonight, Sugar,” he murmurs and I’m so happy that I don’t even object to the name.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tatum

  Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I fight back a smile as a blush creeps up my cheeks and my gaze cuts to the large tub in the corner where Lincoln and I had sex a couple times last night. Closing my eyes, I can almost still feel his hands on my skin and I let out a sigh as I open them again. The woman staring back at me looks like me but better like a Tatum 2.0 – brighter eyes, a permanent smile on her face, and so in love with the most incredible man on the planet that it shines through every pore. This is what pure happiness looks like. I’ve never seen it on my own face before but it looks damn good on me and I know I’ll fight to the death to hang onto it.

  Biting my lip, I peek around the bathroom door and grin at the sight of Lincoln stretched out across my bed on his stomach. He’s naked as a jaybird and the sheet has fallen enough to show off his pert ass that I just want to grab. My mind replays last night again and I shake my head as I watch him. I still can’t believe this is my life now when only a month ago, everything was falling down around me and I’m never going to take that for granted.

  “Why are you just standing there staring a me?” Lincoln asks, his voice thick with sleep as he peeks one eye open.

  “I was just thinking how sexy you looked sprawled out in my bed.”

  He flashes me a lazy grin as he rolls to his side. “Yeah? Why don’t you come over here and prove it?”

  “You’re insatiable.” I laugh, shaking my head. I lost count of how many times we had sex last night and my poor vagina needs a damn break.

  He nods. “I’m never going to get enough of you, Tate.”

  “Well, I was actually thinking I’d make you some breakfast first and then we can come back to bed.”

  His stomach growls and he nods. “Mm, yeah. That sounds good. Is it cool if I jump in the shower first?”

  “Of course.” I step out of his way and he swings his legs to the side of the bed before scrubbing his hand down his face. When he hops up, he barrels toward me and I squeal as he picks me up and claims my lips.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispers as he pulls back.

  “Back at you, handsome. You feelin’ pancakes or french toast this morning?”

  He purses his lips and I giggle. God, he’s just so damn cute. “Pancakes sound good but let me take you out for breakfast.”

  “You sure you don’t want to stay in?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows and he laughs, squeezing me tighter.

  “Yeah, I want to take my girl out for breakfast and then we’ll come back here and spend the whole day in bed. How does that sound?”

  I nod. “Perfect.”

  “You want to get in the shower with me?” he asks as he sets me back on my feet and I shake my head as I pat his chest.

  “If I did that, we would never get to breakfast and I’m starving.”

  Grinning, he reaches for the tie on my robe. “Let me just get a peek then.”

  “No.” I slap his hand away and he laughs, grabbing my hand and pulling me back into his body like he can’t stand to be away from me.

  “I love you,” he whispers, flicking my nose with his and my heart skips a beat as I close my eyes and nod.

  “I love you, too.” My stomach growls and I smack his bare ass. “Now, go get in the shower.”

  “Okay, okay,” he concedes, holding his hands up and letting me back away from him. Before he disappears behind the bathroom door, he blows me a kiss and my grin grows. Damn, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much but I don’t think I even care.

  As the water starts running, I turn away from the bathroom door and yawn.

  “Coffee,” I mutter to myself as I head toward the bedroom door. When I step into the hallway, my foot hits something and I glance down, shaking my head as I scoop his jeans off the floor. Glancing up, I giggle at the trail of clothing from the front door to my bedroom. I guess we weren’t all that concerned with tidiness last night.

  I tuck the jeans over my arm and walk into the kitchen, depositing them on the island before I turn toward the coffee maker and turn on the radio. Take On Me by A-ha starts playing and I dance around the kitchen as I set the coffee maker up. I should find a few minutes to call Theo back today since I haven’t spoken to him for a few days and I want to talk to him about coming for another visit. I’d really love to introduce him to Lincoln.

  A beeping sound cuts through the music and I turn it down as I spin around and inspect the kitchen as I wait for the beep to come again. When it does, I turn to the sound and spot Lincoln’s cell phone laying on the floor in between the bedroom and kitchen. The notification light is going crazy and I roll my eyes as I trudge over to it and scoop it up off the floor. I press the button on the side to wake it up. If nothing else, I’ll just turn it off so it stops annoying me.

  Before I can do anything, an image appears on the screen and I freeze, my mouth popping open as I stare at it, my mind screeching to a halt. I don’t know how long I stand here, staring at the image before I suck in a breath and glance up at the camera in the corner of the kitchen. When I turn back to the phone, I take a step to the left and watch in horror as the image moves also. Spinning toward the camera, I watch the image of me spin also and shake my head.

  How? How does Lincoln have the live feed from the cameras?

  And why?

  Why is he watching me?

  There has to be a reasonable explanation for this, right? I know him. He wouldn’t do… whatever this is to me. Right?

  He knows so much about my past but the one thing I never told him about was the cameras or the safe room so how did he even know they were there?

  And how long has he been watching me? Since we started hanging out? Since we first met? Before that even?

  The implications crash down on me and I struggle to breathe as I move to the counter and plant my hand on it. After the past three weeks and last night, I don’t want to jump to conclusions but nothing is adding up and I feel more in danger than I did in the store when I was receiving those messages. Could that have been Lincoln, too? Is this all just a big game to him?

  My breathing becomes labored and tears sting my eyes as I think over the past few weeks. Is he really behind all of this? It makes perfect sense and absolutely no sense at the same time but with everything I know and all my training, I have to assume these things aren’t a coincidence. My chest aches and I gulp in a breath, willing myself not to cry as tears sting my eyes. This can’t be happening. Not when I thought I had finally found my happiness.

  Was this a joke?

  Does he even love me?

  Glancing down at the phone, I back out of the camera and notice a folder labeled Tate. I shouldn’t click it because it will only bring me heartbreak but I have to know. I click on it, holding my breath as multiple files pop up. The first one I click on has general information on me – name, date of birth, height, weight, hair color – that sort of thing and a quiet sob bubbles out of me.

  “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No, no, no.”

  The next file I click on is all about Theo and anger floods my system. It’s one thing to come after me but it’s another thing all together to go after my brother - one that I will not stand for. The next file is all about Mom but there isn’t much information there and I sigh as I click the next one and suck in a breath. It’s a photo of Theo and I sprinkling Mom’s ashes on the beach and it tells me everything I need to know. This has been a set-up from the beginning.

  Dropping the phone on the counter, I close my eyes and let the pain swallow me up for a moment as my heart shatters in my chest. All the dreams I built up in my head vanish like footprints in the sand and just when I think I’m g
oing to break under the burden of my heartache, I stop. I let the anger replace the pain, shutting down anything that doesn’t serve a purpose in this moment. Lincoln, if that even is his real name, made one grave mistake when going after me and that was choosing me in the first place.

  The love I felt for him turns to hate and I finally understand that old saying about there being a thin line between the two as I reach into the cubby next to the sink and pull out the 1911. The water turns off in the bathroom. I plant my feet and aim the gun at the bedroom doorway, gripping tightly to my anger. All this time, all the fear I felt whenever the phone rang, it’s all been him and it pisses me off as much as it worries me. What are his intentions?

  Beware the man you think you know.

  The saying runs through my head again, like it has so many times since that first call came in, but this time, I understand it perfectly. The seconds tick by in agonizing slowness and my mind races through scenarios. Will he freeze when he sees the gun? Will he charge me? The thought of shooting him, of watching a bullet rip through his body makes my stomach roll and a tear slips down my cheek before I wipe it away, baring my teeth. Why the fuck do I care if I shoot him? He’s done nothing but lie and manipulate me since before we even met. He’s playing games with my heart and he’s going to lose.

  “Hey, baby, do you know where…” His words trail off when he glances up and notices the gun in my hand, aimed at his chest. “Tate, what are you doing?”

  “Was it fun?” I hiss, my hand shaking. He frowns and takes a few steps toward me. “Don’t move.”

  He freezes, holding his hands up. “Was what fun, baby?”

  “This.” I motion between the two of us. “Was this fun for you? Did you just hang out with the guys and have a good laugh over what an idiot I am?”

  “Sweetheart,” he whispers, stepping forward again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”