“Kendall! Zoann!” Meggie called and Val went on high alert.
He didn’t know what fucking time Zoann returned. By the time he’d gone to his room and popped his pills after one in the morning, she wasn’t home. He’d drifted off with all sorts of imaginings running rampant in his head.
Thank God for an escape from reality, where nothing existed but a blanket of fog or the beauty of sleep.
The kitchen door opened and Zoann stepped out, her hair falling in waves around her, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. Her breasts, full and round, outlined her sundress, tapering to her still-small waistline. Soon, her belly would be swollen with the evidence she’d trusted him enough to allow him to love her with his body yet again. The thought humbled him and frightened the fuck out of him.
She wiped her slender hands on the dishtowel she held before she flung it over her shoulder and walked to the other two. Val longed to run his fingers through her unruly mass of hair and caress the soft creaminess of her skin. She hugged Bailey and tugged her braid as Kendall brushed past the table. She must’ve come from the room. Little clips swept her hair back and kept it off her face, showing off her fine bone structure. She was the tallest of the girls, damn near taller than him, her endless legs revealed in the shorts she wore.
Meggie, Kendall, Zoann, and Bailey. A pervert’s fucking dream. A funny little frown crossed Meggie’s face and she swallowed, glancing in their direction. Her shoulders sagged, but she plastered another smile on her face.
“Christopher,” Johnnie said with a sigh. “I guess Megs just found out Kendall’s pregnant again.”
Mortician scratched his jaw, the amusement from their previous conversation dying. “Aww, fuck, man,” he grumbled, setting Ryan on his feet.
Outlaw nodded, a muscle ticking in his jaw, upset because Meggie was upset, now the only one of their girls not expecting and the only one who may not ever be able to have another baby.
Zoann led Bailey to the table with Kendall trailing behind. Meggie remained where she stood for just a moment and wiped a covert tear away, then breathed in deep.
Ignoring Val, Zoann smiled at Mortician, gesturing to Bailey with an elaborate wave of her hand. “Look who dropped in.”
Mort didn’t respond. He studied Bailey, his unwelcoming expression making hers crumble. She drew in a deep breath and smiled shyly. “I’m going, Lucas, so you don’t have to look like that.”
“Why you here, girl?”
She lifted her chin. “Today I find out the sex of the baby.”
And she wanted Mort to come. She didn’t say it but from the look in her beautiful eyes and the hope in her tone, she implied it.
Meggie walked up and paused behind her husband’s chair.
Outlaw released Little Man and encouraged him to join Ryan where he sat next to a stool, on the floor, in front of the bar. Then, he reached an arm behind him and pulled Meggie to his side, hugging and kissing her. “You okay, baby?”
She nodded, although hurt dampened her features. Val doubted she begrudged the others of the pregnancies. He figured it was just the not knowing if she, herself, would ever be able to carry another child again.
“I’m off today, Meggie,” Zoann said with a smile. “Want to hang out?”
“Yeah, sure,” she said quietly. “I’d like that.”
“Are you going with Bailey to her ultrasound, Mortician?” Kendall folded her arms and tapped her foot in agitation. “You should be there. This is so exciting for her. I’m pregnant again, too, and I can’t wait for me and Johnnie to see if we’re having a boy or a girl when I’m further along. I was so scared I’d never have another baby and I can’t imagine how infertile women feel.”
Meggie’s nostrils flared and her eyes watered, her grip tightening on Outlaw, her touch preventing Kendall from getting fucked up. Instead of holding him to calm him, though, she clutched him for support.
Zoann gave Kendall a death glare and Bailey frowned at her. The saddest part about this whole thing? The stupid bitch didn’t do this shit on purpose, so fucking self-absorbed, she didn’t realize the effect of her words.
“Wh-what are you…” Meggie’s voice trailed off and she lowered her lashes. “Boy or girl? I-I mean what do the three of you want?”
“You killin’ me, baby,” Outlaw said gruffly at the same time, Zoann clucked an, “Oh, Meggie.”
Her pulse pounding at her neck, she smiled through her tears. “I’m fine. Really. Bailey, if you’re having a…a b-boy, I have a few things. I-I mean new things.” She scratched her head. “I already had a lot left over from CJ, so I hadn’t bought that much for Patrick.”
“Are you all right, Meggie?” Kendall asked with concern.
Mortician groaned and leaned his forehead against his arms where they rested on the table, shaking his head. Outlaw glared at Johnnie, the warning in his eyes promising dire consequences if Kendall didn’t back the fuck off.
“No, Kendall,” Zoann snapped through gritted teeth, “Meggie isn’t okay. I’m pregnant. Bailey’s pregnant. You’re pregnant. Thanks to your fucking ass, she’s not, so why don’t you go sit the fuck in a corner on a hot fucking tack and SHUT THE FUCK UP already.”
Stomping around Outlaw, she grabbed Meggie’s elbow and dragged her toward the rooms.
“Zoann!” Johnnie rose to his feet and rushed to where Kendall stood, her shock quickly yielding to anger.
Shaking with fury, Zoann spun on her heel. “Fuck off, you ball-less fuckhead. While you’re looking for your nuts, go find Kendall a fucking brain.”
Johnnie advanced towards her. “Shut up. I mean it.”
“Or what?” she snorted as Val jumped to his feet, prepared to fuck John Boy up if he touched Zoann. “I’m sick to fucking death of Kendall,” she went on. “No one can say anything to her because of you. I can’t believe someone as strong and as smart as you would really want her. Fucking numb nut brain.”
“I’ve had it with your insults.” Kendall’s cheeks were flushed and the little clips in her hair resembled horns sprouting from her scalp. “Meggie isn’t mean and bitter like you, so she won’t begrudge me my happiness of a new baby.”
“I’m mean and bitter?” Slapping her palms against her cheeks in exaggerated shock, Zoann cackled. “If that isn’t the bitch calling me a witch. You’re mean. You’re bitter. You’re self-absorbed. You’re childish. You’re paranoid. You’re insecure. You expect every man in here to fucking worship you.”
“That’s bullshit.” Kendall twisted around Johnnie and iffed at Zoann. “I love Johnnie and he loves me.”
“More’s the fucking pity,” Zoann shot back, bracing her legs apart in a fighter’s stance. “Get over yourself, Kendall. I don’t want to hear about your fucking pregnancy, especially in front of Meggie. You’re doing that shit to her on purpose.”
Johnnie stepped back and lounged against the wall close to the two battling bitches. Kendall needed a fucking beatdown to get her ass straight. Johnnie had to know bitch was one egg short of a fucking dozen.
Kendall hissed out a breath, as if she’d read Val’s mind, her attention still focused on Zoann. “Fuck you.”
“What did you just say to me?” Zoann snarled, her body stilling, an ominous calm before the brewing storm.
Unease flitted across Kendall’s face and she glanced at Johnnie. He nodded. A small, victorious smile curved her mouth and annoyed the fuck out of Val. “You fucking heard me, bitch.”
Zoann gasped, her eyes widening then narrowing, her face reddening to an alarming shade of Devil crimson, the only warning she gave before springing on Kendall and punching her jaw.
“Oh fuck,” Outlaw managed, shooting to his feet while Mortician yanked Bailey out of the way.
Mort placed his body in front of Bailey’s in an effort to shield her. It also blocked her view, so she clutched one of his biceps, stood on her tiptoes and peeked around him.
Zoann balled her fists again and swung, grazing the side of Kendall’s head. Recoverin
g fast, Kendall shoved Zoann and was rewarded with a kick to the ankle and a head butt under the chin. Knocking Kendall off balance allowed Johnnie the chance to catch her.
Grabbing Zoann’s swinging fists, Outlaw wrapped an arm around her, unable to intercept another punch.
“Let go of me,” Kendall hollered, struggling against Johnnie. He loosened his grip unexpectedly and Kendall stumbled, losing her balance anyway as Meggie rounded the corner and skidded to a halt, right in Kendall’s pathway. They both went sprawling.
Added to the chaos were Ryan and Little Man screaming at the top of their lungs.
Outlaw dragged Zoann to Val. “Get her the fuck out of here. If murder ain’t so fuckin’ brutal on the conscious, I’d woulda let Bitsy fuck that bitch the fuck up.” Ignoring his distressed son, he lifted Meggie to her feet, sat her on the stool and checked her for injuries, shooting dirty looks in Kendall’s direction, who was gripping Johnnie’s cut and screeching out explanations and demands.
Taking a cue from Outlaw, Val hauled Zoann into his arms, happy for an excuse to hold her, amused as fuck at the fight.
“Let go of me!” Zoann demanded, an echo of Kendall’s words. “That fucking bitch called me a bitch.”
While the prospect of the fight continuing was quite appealing, she was pregnant—Kendall was, too, he reminded himself sourly—and they couldn’t endanger their babies because Kendall didn’t have a fucking filter on her mouth. Did she always have to say what the fuck crossed her mind?
Zoann clawed at Val’s arms and squirmed in his hold, the feel of her body against his arousing him.
“Bailey, Mort, see to the boys,” Val puffed out, understanding how Johnnie lost his hold on his big bitch. Zoann stood four or five inches shorter and he struggled to contain her, so holding Kendall back was double-difficult.
Manhandling Zoann to his room, Val slammed the door shut behind them and leaned against it, not wanting to let her go. He’d lose their connection again and his head rebelled at the realization. Besides, he liked holding her. Her nearness quieted his soul, as if she was the balm he needed to soothe away his dirtiness.
Unable to resist, he slanted his mouth over hers, tasting her anger and her passion. He groaned. For one, precious moment, Zoann relaxed against him, allowed her mouth to be pliant and open to his probing tongue. She whimpered, the sweet sound exploding in his brain, making him crave more. All.
He set her on her feet and palmed her breast, guiding her hand to his rock hard dick. “I need to fuck you,” he whispered harshly, nipping at her mouth.
And fucking up their intimacy.
Zoann pushed against him and touched her lips with two fingers, staring at him with huge eyes. Uncertainty clashed with the other rioting emotions crossing her face. Val’s nostrils flared. He recognized her desire and indecision. At this moment, she’d capitulate if he pressed his advantage. He knew it. He saw it in her flushed features.
Passion born from anger was a powerful aphrodisiac. Finally. After weeks of dreaming about her in his arms—pretending every pussy he got into was hers—he’d finally feel her against him again. He reached for her, wanting her so bad he thought he’d lose his mind.
“Matthew.” Her tone halted him. In it was the essence of her. Of him. Of them. Fear. Shame. Guilt. Longing. And pain.
He couldn’t take her now. If ever. Outlaw believed she was ashamed of having it known she’d been with him again. Not that anyone had to know Val was the father of her new baby. Except their love-hate/hate-hate relationship was well-known.
But had she really ever hated him? Had Zoann ever hated anyone? He’d never truly hated her. Angry as fuck with her, yes, but he’d never hated her. She was his Puff. The first girl who’d ever looked at him like he mattered for more than sex. The first girl who’d offered him just a simple glass of lemonade.
“Why’d you want me? All those years ago,” he clarified at her frown of confusion.
She licked her lips. “You always acknowledged me,” she said quietly. “And your eyes were—are—beautiful.” She lowered her gaze and swallowed. “Did I ever tell you that? The color of a tropical ocean. Always so warm and brilliant.”
He tipped her chin up and she raised her lashes, pinning him with her whiskey-colored eyes that always saw so much of him but never enough. “No girl ever described my eyes like that.”
He could have her. He could take her. He could fuck her.
He could love her. Now. Here. Peace always seemed to exist between them at the oddest times. They were opposing, repelling forces until tragedy happened and danger surrounded them.
Until the outside world invaded.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her head, he smiled at her. If he took her to bed now and the guys charged to his room—and he knew they soon would—she’d be mortified. Val didn’t want to make her shame.
His neck throbbed, along with the ache in his chest. “Well, you two were excellent fucking entertainment for the morning,” he remarked, her turmoil easing at his casual words. Relief filled him, so he continued. “When’s the next fucking show? I can sell tickets to this shit. Pregnant Bitch Throw Down. You know how much fucking money I’d make, Puff?”
Whiskey-colored eyes narrowed and he laughed. Flushed with anger, indignation and desire, she looked so fucking hot. Her mouth was warm and moist from the kisses he’d given her, tempting him to taste her again.
“You would think that, pervert.”
The return of his Puff. Satisfied and disappointed, he pushed away from the door. “Never said I wasn’t, babe. I was raised to be a pervert.”
Her brows drew together. “What does that mean?”
Should he fucking tell her or not? He pulled out his cigarettes and lit one, blowing the smoke toward the ceiling.
She scowled at the cigarette. “Would you put that out?”
“No.”
She stomped towards his bed and sat, giving him a sour look. “Of course not.”
“You shouldn’t have been fighting. You could’ve had an asthma attack. You could’ve hurt the new baby.”
She poked her bottom lip out and Val made his body heavy to keep from going to her. “I didn’t think the new baby mattered to you.”
“It does, Zoann.” He puffed again to hide his guilty wince. “I just…I didn’t make it a secret to you that I didn’t want Ryan and I’m sorry.” He’d never told her that, but he was. “It took Meggie having Little Man to knock some fucking sense into me. After the shit I put you through, you had every fucking right to deny me access to our son.”
“Meggie came and talked to me,” she admitted, stretching her back and rolling her shoulders. “She annoyed me so much that day, defending you and not knowing my side. She never even asked.”
“And yet you defended her today.”
Zoann nodded. “She always means well and she didn’t want to hear my side. Not for you, but because I’d hurt Christopher.”
“Do you know she saved his life? She killed a man, although she thinks Outlaw did it.” He tossed his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. “Ever wonder what that type of love feels like?”
Instead of answering, she swallowed. “Do you?”
“I don’t believe in love, Puff,” he admitted. And, yet, when he looked at her and memories of their times together overwhelmed him, he believed he loved her. No, he knew he loved her. He just didn’t know how to express it. She was so fragile and he always managed to fuck things up with her. He didn’t fucking do fragile. He broke fucking fragile. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was break Zoann or hurt his son. “You?” It was hard to believe she’d believe in love after all she’d been through. She hardly believed in people.
“I-I think so.” She bit down on her lip, her look reminiscent of that seventeen-year-old who’d stood in the vee of his legs in her grandfather’s kitchen and touched her sweet lips to his. Another blush swept over her features.
Val covered her smaller hand with his, flying high when she didn�
�t move away. “What, Puff?”
Her brows drew together in a frown and she sidled a glance at him. “What do you mean ‘what’?”
It meant he knew her enough to read her. He sat next to her on the bed. “You had a thought and I want to know what it was.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It was silly.”
“Bet it wasn’t,” he said gruffly, twining his fingers through hers. “Tell me.”
Her body tensed but she giggled as always when overcome with nervousness. “I’ve dreamed of going to the mountains.”
Really? Considering the nightmares that sometimes plagued her, that wasn’t silly at all. That was a fucking gift. Unless…”To move there?”
Relaxing again, she rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I m-mean to visit. Maybe, on a honeymoon or something. Staying in a log cabin with a huge Jacuzzi for bubble baths.”
“A log cabin with a hot tub? You shitting me, right?”
“No, silly,” she answered and reclaimed her hand to use it for gestures, more animated than he’d seen her in a while. “I also dream the cabin has a big fireplace and a nice kitchen with fresh-caught fish and-and bear or bison meat for stew and—“
“And who the fuck would hunt and fish? Not my fucking ass. I don’t do either.”
Her enthusiasm fled and she wrapped her arms around her waist. “N-not you, Matthew. It couldn’t be. I want someone to love me as much as I love that someone. I’d truly like to get married one day.”
Val hated her implication. He intended to never marry, so he’d have to watch Zoann marry someone else. “You’re pregnant for me, though. Again, let me add.”
A challenge entering her eyes, she glared at him. “I’m not getting rid of it.”
“I didn’t think you were.” He couldn’t begin to express to her his gratitude at what a fierce mother she was. She’d protect their kids, never expose them to shit they didn’t need or shouldn’t see.
“I’ll always let you visit our kids.”
He hated to break it to her, but no fucking way he’d allow another dickhead to raise his children. He’d find a way to keep her, show her that he could love her and not touch her if that’s what it took. Maybe, he should’ve thought of that earlier. Instead of finding a way to get into her panties, he should’ve been looking for a way to stay out of them, and still win her over. It was stupid to believe he could have with Zoann what Outlaw had with Meggie, although Val wasn’t quite sure of their sexual relationship and only ever speculated. Maybe, his prez wasn’t as happy as he pretended. Maybe, he loved Meggie enough to make everyone believe she satisfied him. Who knew? Maybe, he got pussy on the side somewhere, especially now with Meggie so miserable. Val could convince Zoann to stay with him and fuck other girls.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 138
