by Ryan Michele
Deke doesn’t stop, but he does put my leg down, positions between them, holds my knees to my chest, and unleashes. The muscles in his body contort with each of his movements, his abs flexing and arms straining. If I weren’t on the cusp of another screaming orgasm, I might have been able to take a few minutes to enjoy the view.
He starts to rub hard over my clit, not stopping. The pressure is too much, and I scream his name, the word echoing off the walls.
Deke leans down, takes my mouth, and groans into it as he comes, his muscles beneath my fingertips bunching.
Holy shit. That wasn’t just sex. That was some sort of out of body experience or something. Shit.
“Well, this was a hell of a surprise.” We lay in my tangled sheets after coming down from seriously hard orgasms.
“Glad you think so.”
I roll over. Deke’s well-toned body is lying flat on the sheets, his hand up on his head. He looks damn gorgeous.
Brewer lifts his head, looking at me, probably wanting to get up on the bed, but I give him no indication it’s time for that yet.
“Didn’t know you made house calls.”
His lips tip up. The plane of his nose has a small crook in it, but only because I’m staring can I tell. His jaw is strong and sculpts out his face perfectly. Even the way his eyelashes lay on his cheeks is sexy as hell. I’m positive there is nothing on the man’s body that isn’t perfection.
“Only to bombshells.”
“Bombshell, huh?”
He tips his head toward me. “Fuck yeah.”
I like this. I like this way more than I should. Him in my bed, calling me a bombshell after three amazing orgasms. Yeah, I like this way too much.
“Not so bad yourself, handsome.”
Brewer barks. For once, I actually forgot about him.
“Hey, boy. I’ll get you treats in a little bit.”
He barks in response as I lay back down on Deke. “So, what brings you back to Sumner? Assuming you left.”
“Yep, now I’m back.” He says nothing else, and I’m not going to prod him. He wants to talk, he’ll talk. If he doesn’t, he won’t.
“Started at X, obviously.”
“Obviously. You like it?”
“So far, so good.” I want to ask, so I do. “Why are you stayin’ in town?”
His brow quirks, either not liking being asked a personal question or thinking I’m nuts.
“It just seemed like you didn’t want to be here before,” I carry on, my mouth running away from me.
“Mom’s sick, so I’m gonna be around a while.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“You didn’t do nothin’.”
“I know that, but still …” I may not know what it’s like to have a sick mom, but I do know what it means not to have one. I don’t want that for anyone.
“Bombshell, it’ll be good. We’ll get her fixed up, then go from there.”
His demeanor is so calm, but I can’t tell if it’s a mask or if it’s fear. It can’t be nonchalance because he wouldn’t be back here for anything that wasn’t important. At least, that’s what I got from the confrontation with his father.
“You wanna talk, you know where to find me.”
Leaving it alone is the best thing right now. Hell, may be the best thing we got. There’s really no need for the idle chitchat after sex, but that doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit. It just means I’ll give him space.
He runs his hands through his sexy blondish-brown hair then keeps them lodged on the top of his head. Long minutes pass as he looks up at the ceiling.
I turn from him and do the same, letting my words hang in the air.
“Cancer,” he says softly, in a way I didn’t know a big man like Deke could say something.
Damn.
“Sorry, Deke. How bad is it?” Personally, cancer hasn’t touched my life. I’ve never done the research, but know a little.
“Don’t know. She had tests today. Won’t know the results until next week.”
“So, you picked up your life and came here for your momma?”
The heart this man has is much bigger than what he shows on the outside. The hard exterior is there for a reason, but inside, there’s more. Charlie was right about him.
“Yep.” He rolls off to the side, planting his feet on the floor. “Alright, I’m out.”
A sliver of disappointment hits me, but I mask it quickly. That’s what this is—in and out. I just need to take my orgasm and run away with it.
He shared with me, even if it was a small bit. Who am I to even want to have more? I get what he gives. Just like he gets what I give.
I get off the bed and duck into the closet, pulling out a robe and wrapping it around my body. Brewer follows me. I reach down and rub his head.
Deke dresses quickly then moves through the house like he’s been here a thousand times before. He gets to the front door, dips down, and takes my lips. Then he’s gone.
No comment of seeing me again.
No asking for my number.
Nothing.
But that’s what the deal was. Sex. And that’s what we got.
Too bad the lingering disappointment hits as I watch his truck lights disappear.
Chapter Thirteen
Loud banging on the door wakes me from a not so comfortable sleep. The couch in Austyn’s place is lumpy as all hell. I need my own place, like yesterday. The plan is to look later today. I left pretty much everything up in Grayson that didn’t mean anything to me. The ratty couch, chair, table—all of it. It was all hand me downs because I really didn’t give a shit. None of it was worth hauling down here. Mostly, I grabbed my clothes and a few other things.
My landlord was cool about me taking off, saying to leave what I didn’t want and whoever rented it next would probably use it.
I still don’t know if this is the right decision, but I’ve made my bed now, so to speak, and it’s time to lay in it. If I can keep my profile down, fight when I feel the build, and otherwise keep to myself, maybe my return won’t make waves. My mother is too sick for me to break her heart again.
I wonder sometimes, if they knew the truth, how things would be. Would my mother understand I never intended to hurt her? I left to save her the heartache of seeing another child lost. I wouldn’t put my Ravage family through the devastation. The risk was too great, and I wouldn’t be the one.
When the time comes, and she gets better, she fights this, I will face it then. For now, I have to give her hope. Consequences be damned, I’ll fight beside her.
Grabbing my gun, I make my way to the door and look through the peephole. Cooper stands on the other side of it, hands at his sides, his focus on the door. Fuck. Nothing says family love like an early morning wake up call.
Unlocking the door, I slide it open, revealing my cousin. His expression is neutral, not up nor down, but his shades hide his eyes.
Cooper Cruz has seen more than his fair share of a shit hand in life, and he’s always been the one to handle it all in stride. He’s the kind of guy it takes a lot to rattle, and even more to read.
“Austyn’s in bed,” I tell him, turning back to the couch, setting the gun next to me as I sit while wiping the sleep from my eyes. I’d thought about crashing at Rylie’s place—wanted to, actually—but I dropped something on her that I was surprised I did. Not talking about shit has been my thing for four years. Giving her that little bit is still disconcerting, and not in a bad way, which is confusing the fuck out of me. I needed space to sort myself.
“Not here to see her.” The door clicks closed as Cooper comes to the recliner and sits down. “You’re my target this morning.”
Dropping my arms, I say, “Lucky me.”
He rests his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands back and forth. “Talk to me.”
I’m pretty sure I gave up my quota for sharing last night to Rylie. The old feelings want to come to the surface, but I push them down. This shit has got to stop somewhere. I’m just not su
re it should be with Cooper.
“Austyn’s asleep. Why don’t you go wake her if it’s a chitchat you want?” I tell him instead of answering.
“Dammit, Deke. You gotta stop this shit. I know you’re not usin’, and from the sound of it, you stopped four fuckin’ years ago, so answer me. Why the fuck did you stay away from your family if it wasn’t to get clean?”
“I really don’t want to do this.” That word—family—is an acid churning deep inside me and pulsing through my veins.
“Too fuckin’ bad. You need to clear this shit up so we can get on with it. Your mom’s got a fuck of a fight, and we don’t need all this clouding over it.”
Motherfucker’s right, but no way in hell he’s getting everything. Not happening. Fucking hell.
“Man, look—”
“Four fuckin’ years, man. You ditched fuckin’ everyone. Don’t you dare give me some bullshit excuse, Deke. I’m not fuckin’ buyin’ it.”
This is exactly why I didn’t come back. Coop and the Ravage MC aren’t fucking stupid. But they gave me this play for some reason. Or maybe my father just gave up. That one’s still out for debate. Regardless, the pieces of the puzzle need to stay scattered.
“I needed to stay clean, Coop. I got a good life up there. Job, apartment, money.”
“But not your fuckin’ family,” he cuts in, pissing me off.
I stare at him. Tall, muscular, with light brown hair that he pulls up into a bun thing on his head. Beard that hasn’t been trimmed in days. All of it added with his confidence makes him a spitting image of his father.
“Family,” I huff. “I don’t think this is a conversation we need to have.”
“Deke, we’re your family.”
That word again. It calls to the demons, drawing them out.
My blood pumps a little faster, my ears hear a little clearer, my senses coming alive as my body readies. I fight the rage building.
They don’t know me. They think they do, but no one does. Everything is family to them, yet they can’t see what’s right in front of their eyes when it comes to me. I left for family.
“You have no idea what it’s like to be in your shadow. To want something so fuckin’ bad you can taste it, but it’s out of your reach. You have no idea the shit I’ve been dealt, but I deal and move the fuck on. I had to become the man I am today.”
He turns fully toward me, raking his hands through his hair. “You done bein’ the man you are today?”
Smartass.
“Fuck no,” I clip, and he chuckles.
“Look, I was pissed you left. Fuck, if I get real, I was pissed you didn’t see the potential in you everyone else saw. Pissed you acted like an entitled fuck. More pissed when I saw your mom cryin’ because you weren’t around. Pissed seein’ Emery watchin’ the brothers and sisters hassling each other and the look of despair every damn time crossing her face. Pissed for a long fuckin’ time for a lot of fuckin’ reasons.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Now you’re not pissed?”
“Oh, I’m pissed.” To this, I feel my lip curl. “We’ll work that shit out later. Right now is about family. Need to know where your head’s at.”
This sounds like something my father would do—let Cooper come to feel me out.
“My father send you?”
He looks up at the ceiling. “Fuck, you got your hands full with him.”
Coop’s been paying attention.
“Like that’s somethin’ I don’t already know.”
“You stayin’?”
I lean back on the couch and stretch my legs out in front of me. “For a while.”
He crosses his leg over his knee. “That doesn’t sound promising.”
“It’s all I can give ya. I’ll be here for Mom, and that’s what matters.”
He adds, “And Emery.”
“Fuck, I don’t want to think about tellin’ her this shit.”
“Bet not.”
“Emery tells me you got a woman.”
The jackass smiles hugely. “Bristyl. Things are solid.”
“Good, man.”
“Hey!” Austyn chimes, coming out of the hallway in her sleep shorts and top. “What’re you doin’ here?”
Cooper’s face softens at the sight of his sister. “Came to talk to Deke, little sis.”
Austyn pushes Cooper’s shoulder. “Don’t call me that,” she growls, but it’s fake and more teasing.
“Shut it,” Cooper tells her as she walks over to the couch and plops down on the other end, propping her legs up. There are so many questions that I still want to ask her, but I keep them in check.
“So, what do we owe for this wakeup call?”
Coop responds, “Havin’ words.”
“Bein’ nice?” she asks, and I hold in a chuckle.
“Always.”
“Right.”
“Alright, I gotta take a leak, eat, and get over to my parents to talk to Emery. She’s due in a couple hours.” I rise from the couch with a stretch.
“Deke,” Coop warns.
“Don’t. Just don’t. I get you. Appreciate you lookin’ out for my mom. But that’s all, Coop,” I lay out for him in hopes he’ll let this shit go. Those pieces need to stay scattered.
Unfortunately, I know my cousin. He doesn’t detour, and even if he lets me off with this shit, he’s going to look into it. I just hope he doesn’t find what he’s looking for.
“Not over, Deke,” he says, rising from his chair with a look of concern and anger crossing his features. “Know you gotta talk to Emery. Then we’re hashin’ this out.”
“That doesn’t work for me.”
“Don’t give a fuck.” He steps into my personal space, and my body goes on full alert.
Cooper and I didn’t have the knock down fights I had with Nox when we were younger. Ours was more of a drifting away. With his build and mine so evenly matched, it’d be a fuck of a fight, not that it’s my intent. I just won’t back down.
“Neither do I,” he challenges. “Get your fuckin’ head screwed on today. We’re talkin’ and endin’ this shit.”
“You seem to have me mistaken for someone who takes orders from you. Back the fuck up,” I growl, anger pumping through my veins. Even though I know he’s right, know he’ll push me until I talk, it’s not happening.
“Guys, stop!” Austyn cries out, coming between us. Only when she pushes on my chest do I take a step back to allow her in. “This needs to stop!”
“Stay out of this, Austyn,” Cooper orders.
Austyn huffs. “Right.” She turns to me. “Go to the bathroom.”
“Stay out of my shit, Cooper,” I demand, turning around and exiting the room.
His shit is not needed, but I know it’s not over. The last thing anyone needs is for Ravage to be all up in my past.
The house is now a light blue color. When I lived here, it had a tan siding with dark blue shutters. The same shutters are there, still the same color. Flowers line the outside, and the tree in the front yard where we used to have a tire swing has grown a lot.
As I pull up and into the driveway, memories assault me. Some good, some not. The main one is home. Truthfully, I like the life I built in Grayson, but it never felt like home. It was a place to live, work, and crash. Here, in the driveway, that sense of home washes over me. It’s friendly and a bit unwanted.
This isn’t supposed to be home anymore, but I can’t fight the feeling that it is.
The door to the front swings open and Emery stands there, sees the truck, and begins a mad dash to me. Damn, she’s beautiful and reminds me of our mother. Long, golden blonde hair that reaches her ass and thick as all hell. Small frame, and a face that’ll have men’s dicks hard. She’d better hope all those fuckers keep their dicks away from her or I’ll destroy them.
I hop out of the truck and shut the door. She barrels into me, jumping up and wrapping her arms around my neck and legs around my middle. Her body shakes with quiet sobs as I clutch her tightly. That
black heart inside begins to shatter. My baby sister is broken in my arms. There isn’t any motherfucker’s ass to kick except my own.
Kills me I did this shit to her. Even worse is the blow Mom’s going to give her.
“Shhh … It’s okay.”
“You’re here.” Her words come out as a whispered hiccup. I feel her breathing in and out on my neck, trying to calm herself.
“Yep.”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Even with her body coming down from the tears, it shakes, letting me know her fear. Hate it, but it’s a part of life.
“Yep.”
“Shit.” Her legs fall from around me, and then she takes a step back. “Still glad you’re here.”
I wrap my arm around her neck and pull her to my side. “Let’s go in and do this.”
“Yeah.”
Emery cries in my arms as I absorb all her pain, or at least attempt to. My mother surprisingly has held herself together well throughout. Her strength is admirable, because she must be scared as hell. But the only thing she’s giving us is she’s happy to have her two kids under the same roof.
If that’s what she needs to hold on to right now, then so be it.
My father has stayed fairly quiet this entire time, though his disapproving glances at me come often. That man used to be my idol. Now we can’t stand to be in the same room as each other, yet we’ll need to get along, at least in front of my mother. She doesn’t need to worry about us, which I know she will. That’s her way. The least I can do is lessen the blow and not have it in her face. Hopefully, my father can do the same.
“Okay, I’m going to make lunch, and then we’re going to sit at the table and eat,” my mother says, standing up.
“You don’t need to be cookin’ today,” my father declares, and my mother shoots him a look to kill, shutting him up.
“I’m cooking for my family.” When she turns and walks out of the room, my father looks at Emery and me, then follows her out.
