Archangels MC: A Reverse Harem Romance (Bad Influence Book 2)

by Ivy Fox

  “You’re as much a pass-around as they are. Sure, you’re living on cloud nine with my nephew and his friends, thinking they’re different, but they’re not. They’ll tire of you just as fast as they’ve tired of the sheep around here.” Uri pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it with a match, throwing it to the ground, but to my havoc-wreaked heart, he just poured gasoline over my love and burnt it to a crisp along with my dreams.

  “So go home, Hope, or whatever your name is, and think long and hard if that’s the example you want to make for the baby that’s going to pop out any minute. And if you think my boys, my nephew, is going to be raising someone else’s bastard, that’s another bubble you need to burst on your own.” He takes a drag, inhaling all my humiliation with it, and spits it out in a grey cloud in front of me.

  “Being naïve is forgivable, being stupid as shit is just shameful. Don’t bring shame to that kid before it’s even gotten a chance to make its way out into the world.”

  “You done?” I ask him, wanting to run away from this place, but not wanting to let this man know he’s gotten to me.

  “I’ll only be done when my nephew opens his eyes and sees the bigger picture.”

  “Which is?”

  “No pussy is more important than family.”

  Chapter 28

  Gabriel

  I haven’t even fully stopped the truck in our driveway, and Hope is already slamming the door, anger flaming through her in spades. Her silence the whole ride home was a dead giveaway that something was wrong, but this sudden burst of fury tells me she’s through keeping her cool in check.

  “What the fuck, Hope?” Cam yells behind her, as surprised as we are by her mood change. I mean, she was just fine back at the clubhouse, but as soon as she climbed into the truck, she looked defeated. But now, that defeat has turned into rage as she stops and turns to direct it at all of us.

  “I want you to tell me the truth. Is that what you guys want, a pass-around? Is that what I am to you?” she howls, and this sudden mood swing shudders the earth under me.

  “Gabriel, hold her still,” Michael orders, and I instinctively do as he says, grabbing Hope’s arms behind her, using as little pressure as possible, but still keeping my hold tight enough that she can’t run away from me.

  “Let me go, Gabriel!” she yells.

  “Cam shut her up,” Michael commands.

  “Gladly,” Cam replies, and before she’s able to stop him, his mouth covers her own, demanding her full attention. I know it’s working when her resistance against my hold starts to break, and her back starts to melt into me instead.

  “You think we want a pass-around, sweetheart, is that what you think?” Michael tsks, taking out his knife from his holster. From my peripheral vision, I see her eyes go wide, but Cam takes advantage of this surprise and plunges his tongue into her mouth, seeking its counterpart.

  “Ah, baby, we’ve had pass-arounds. We’ve had more sheep between us than you can count,” Michael continues to taunt, and I see the rage in my little bird come back to life.

  “See, I think we could fuck all the sheep in the world,” Michael continues, taking his knife to Hope’s dress. Her eyes are fixed on the blade as much as her ears are fixed on his every word, even if her mouth is fully occupied. “And all of them wouldn’t hold a candle to you.”

  He nips one button and then another, and another until all of them are sprawled out on the dirt, and she’s in nothing but a pretty pink lacy bra and panty set. But by the gleam in Michael’s’ eyes, not for long.

  “We could fuck them all, and it would be useless. Because this…” he says as he as he traces his knife down Hope’s skin, from her neck to her full bouncy breasts, “because you are all we will ever need. Ever want,” he says, his voice now betraying his need. The same need both Cam and I ached over ever since she distanced herself from us. In a quick, swift movement, Michael’s knife demolishes the pink bra and does the same with the panties that are covering the home we need to go to so we can be complete.

  The November air bites her skin, but I’m sure the shiver that runs through her is more out of the same want she has for us and has little to do with the cold wind. Her nipples are hard pebbles, begging for attention, and my mouth is on them before I even make the decision or Michael gives me the order.

  “Ah,” she gasps, and Cam eats her pleasure with his kiss again.

  “You will never be a pass-around or a fucking sheep, Hope. But you are ours, and by God, woman, we will fuck you into oblivion until you realize that,” Michael howls as he pushes Cam away from Hope’s mouth and pushes down on his shoulders, lowering him to his knees.

  “Fuck, love, I missed this,” I hear Cam say before he starts licking her mound. She leans her head back to my chest, but Michael will have none of it. His hand is on her neck, and his eyes are fixed on her.

  “Now, I want to see those brown eyes, while Cam here eats that sweet pussy of yours, and Gabe fucks you blind,” Michael hushes, and it’s all I need to hear to spring out my aching cock and find the home he’s been waiting for. When I push through her tight little slit, I think I’m the one who goes blind, but the wails and moans of my little bird flying are all I need to feel my way through her pleasure.

  Michael leans his lips to hers, with his grip still firmly on her throat, showing her with his teeth, tongue, and lips how much he worships the ground she walks on.

  “Oh, Michael,” I hear her moan into his mouth, while I still have her hands at her back and, unable to use them, I see how desperate she is to touch us. But I don’t let go—instead, I use them to tease her more with every hard thrust I impale her with.

  “God! Gabriel!” she shrieks, and I feel her walls starting to cave in on me. These months apart have turned us too sensitive to each other, and one small touch was bound to make us all see heaven in an instant. I’m finding my nirvana inside her wet warm pussy, while Michael and Cam eat at her any way they can, stroking themselves into insanity.

  “Little bird,” I croak desperately—I’m so close, I feel I might explode at any given minute, but I don’t want to until I hear her cum, too. Cam’s hand comes to my aid, as he plunges into her forbidden hole, and our girl skyrockets into the air like a full beam of light.

  “Cam! Oh, God, I’m cumming!” she repeatedly yells as the orgasm hits her in waves, and we take our own turns marking her with ours. Time passes through us in a blur, like a satisfied smog wrapped around us, keeping us all in its cocoon. When I feel her legs start to shake, I kneel down and cradle her naked form to my chest.

  “That was so hot, love. I missed you so goddamned much,” Cam says, standing tall, leaning in to give our sated sleepy girl an enamored kiss. Her cheeks pink with his comment, and when he lets go of her, I go in myself, tasting her peachy wetness on her lips. Her hands wrap around my neck, playing with the short hairs at my nape, and sighing contentedly. The authoritative man in Michael is gone, and in his place is just a man in love, looking down at the woman who holds his heart in her hands.

  “I know you were the one who found us. Came out of those woods looking for us. But did it ever occur to you that we were here waiting? Waiting our whole goddamn lives for you to find us?” he confesses, holding her face in his palms.

  “I never said I love you,” she whispers softly, like the words, said too loudly, might start a thunderstorm and rip us out of our happiness, but Michael nods, tilting his head her way so she can look directly into his steel eyes, showing her there is nothing to fear if she does.

  “Do you need to hear it?” she says weakly, licking her lips nervously.

  “No, baby. All I need is to feel it.”

  “And do you?”

  “Yes, Hope. I feel it. We all do,” he answers confidently, and the smile that tugs at her lips could threaten any sun of true glorious beauty in its light.

  “Take our woman to bed, Gabe. Cam and I need to go back to the club,” Michael says, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

>   “We do?” Cam asks, surprised and a bit irritated, since I know he would prefer to crawl in bed with Hope, instead of returning to where we were not an hour ago. Michael puts his hand over Cam’s shoulder and gives it a playful nudge.

  “Yeah, brother, we do. Something tells me my uncle was the one who planted the seed of doubt about how much we love our woman here. I think it’s about time we set him straight for good. You with me?”

  “Shit, yeah! If Prez is the one who got under her skin like that, I’ll set him straight alright,” Cam replies more enthusiastically.

  “No guns, Cam. We’ll convince him another way,” Michael shrugs, heading back to the truck.

  “Well then, no knives either, killjoy. If I’m not going to have any fun, then neither are you,” I hear Cam yell behind him as he marches to get into the front seat.

  I chuckle under my breath and look down at my little bird sleeping in my arms, naked as the day she was born, and probably wearing the same smile, too. I walk us up the porch steps and into our home. I take her back to her room instead of the bathroom. I want to clean her up, but she’s still limp in my arms from the brutal fucking we’ve just given her. I lay her on the bed and go get a warm wet washcloth and one of my t-shirts, the one she loves to sleep in. After she’s clean and warm, I pull the covers over her and lay beside her, no longer taking the place on the corner chair to watch over her, but in her bed, where I belong now.

  “Gabriel…” she starts, and I didn’t even realize my little bird had woke up.

  “Hmm,” I murmur, pulling her even closer to me. She places her head on my chest, hearing the heart that beats only for her, and plays with the few little chest hairs I have as her own little playground of cherished rides she doesn’t want to miss out on.

  “Gabriel, I want you to tell me something,” she says, and I hear it in her voice that whatever she’s about to ask is important to her, so I should forgo my silent ways to answer her as truthfully as I can.

  “I know why Michael is an Archangel, and I know Cam followed his father’s footsteps into the club. But I never heard your story. How did you get mixed up with them?” she asks, and even if the answer is not one I want to go into detail about right now, I know it took courage on her part to ask the question at all.

  “That’s a big story, little bird, and you’re half-dead as it is. You sure you want to hear this now?”

  “Yes, Gabriel, I really do,” she says, her chin on my chest looking at me like I hung the moon just for her, but still wanting to learn all my secrets on how I go about it.

  “Okay.” I lean back into the headboard, still keeping her head safely placed on my chest. My fingers lift her shirt just enough to find her bare back, and they delight in her delicate skin, just as velvety soft as the voice that stole my soul.

  “I don’t want to give you any more nightmares than the ones you already have, though,” I hesitantly say, concerned that maybe this isn’t the best time to talk about my own devils.

  “Then I guess you’ll just have to sleep in my bed tonight, huh?”

  “Guess so. Although I wasn’t planning on sleeping anywhere else, either,” I reply and fall back, fully putting an arm behind my head as she finds, yet again, my chest to nestle in.

  “I was twelve when I went in search of the angels. I didn’t come upon them by chance. I knew of their existence and went to find them on my own,” I start.

  “At twelve? You wanted to become a member when you were twelve years old?” she asks, surprised.

  “If I thought they’d have me before then, I would have crawled my way to them. But yeah, I only gained the courage to request an audience with Michael’s father, Prez at the time, when I was that age,” I confess.

  “Daniel was a hard man. Scary as fuck was what he was. You think Uri is intimidating? You should have met Danny. Man’s eyes were as black as tar. He didn’t have to say a word to you, just merely blink in your direction and you’d piss your pants. Saw a lot of brave men do it, too. And here I was, a rug rat almost, knocking on the door of his beloved clubhouse requesting him to let me in and hear me the fuck out,” I chuckle at my audacity.

  “Why did you need to talk to him so badly?”

  “I needed him to teach me,” I tell her, finding enough comfort in her silky voice to trudge through the memory.

  “Teach you what?”

  “How to kill a man,” I state matter-of-factly.

  “How to kill…”

  “Exactly.” I nod and keep stroking her back to show her I will only ever be capable of tenderness where she’s concerned. “Everyone heard the rumors. Archangels were vigilantes. They brought justice where there was none, and they protected the weak. But sometimes doing so meant they were just as ruthless as the evil they fought. I wanted him to teach me everything he knew. I wanted him to make me strong, make me his fucking mirror image if he had to. I needed him.”

  “Why, Gabriel? Did someone hurt you?”

  “Yes. But that wasn’t the reason I sought the Archangels out.”

  “Why, then?” she queries, truly wanting to know what could’ve made a twelve-year-old boy need to learn how to kill someone, or to even have such a desire.

  “Someone hurt her, and because of it, I lost her,” I whisper, knowing this will probably be the first time I’ve talked about her in all my adult life.

  “Who?”

  “My mom.”

  “Oh, Gabriel.”

  I see her kind heart break in front of me with the revelation of who I was talking about. When I’m finished with this story, my little bird will be bleeding out for me. It doesn’t sit well with me how my pain is now hers as well. I never wanted her to feel any type of heartache, much less any I can inflict on her. But she grabs my hand and kisses my palm, urging me to continue, so against my better judgment, I do.

  “Dad was a piss-poor excuse of a husband and a father. Never wanted to hold a job for long, and blamed us for the poor choices he made in his life—fair enough. I wouldn’t mind it much if he were just a bitter asshole, but he took it out on me, and worse of all, he took it out on the only person who loved me—my mom. She wasn’t as strong as you, little bird. She always had fits of sadness about her. I think the asshole knew that when he met her and took advantage of her vulnerability. When I came along, she tried harder not to fall into those sad spells. She really, really did try. But I knew every time he hurt me, or broke a bone, or made me bleed, she died a little bit more. Until one day, she couldn’t take it no more.”

  “Oh, baby…” I hear her whimper.

  “It was my fault, you know. I had a bad day at school. Was being teased about my size and how my clothes didn’t fit me. Dad didn’t believe in buying me new school clothes and said it was my own damn fault for growing as fast as I did. So when I got home that day, I threw away all of his stash. Every last drop of alcohol in the house was gone. He was so angry when he came home, fucker even dislocated my shoulder and broke my arm in the process. Once he was good and through with his vengeance, he just left us there, and I thought ‘Yes!’ I would rather him be off for a day or two, binge drinking in some bar than being there anyway.

  “But my mom was hysterical, crying so hard I thought she couldn’t breathe at one point. I lied when she asked if anything was broken. Lied just so she could stop shedding those tears that ate me up from the inside. I was just a kid, but I knew I had to protect her even then. Her crying had worn her out, and she fell asleep on the floor lying next to me. I remember covering her with the blanket we kept on the couch and placing a pillow under her head. I gave her a kiss and went to the bathroom, looking for anything to take the pain away. I saw one of her bottles of pills which she said made her feel better when she was hurting, and I downed two of those purple babies without one sip of water. I went to bed promising myself I would check up on her in ten minutes’ time, but before I knew it, I was out cold.

  “Next morning, I woke up to my father cursing. He didn’t stay away as long as I would have l
iked, but I needed the fucker to take me to the emergency room anyway. I’d probably have to say I fell off a tree, my bicycle, or something along those lines. Same song and dance I’d done a hundred times before. I just hoped he wouldn’t be a dick and drive me all the way out to the next town over, like the two times before.

  “But as he continued to curse, I started to hear him kicking things around, too. I woke up real fast then, thinking my mother was probably next on his list of things to kick. But when I came into her room, she was sound asleep. Peaceful even. How could that be? He was making so much noise even the neighbors were shouting outside for him to shut the hell up. So I got closer, and closer, and when I got close enough, I didn’t have to touch her cold, frozen body to know she was gone. She left me. Because of him, she couldn’t take it anymore, so to escape, she took the only way out she could think of.

  “‘She left you a note, you piece of shit. What am I supposed to do with you now?’ he had said, but it didn’t even hurt anymore. No words uttered by that man could wound me again. No punch, no kick, no mean word, because I was too numb to feel a thing. I looked over at the side table he had pointed at, and sure enough, a blue paper with her soft penmanship graced its inside. She wrote that she was sorry, that she loved me, but that I deserved better. Deserved better than her.”

  I cradle Hope’s weeping form closer to me since I feel I need her comfort just as she needs mine right now. But the thing about the truth is that once you open a breach, it demands to be let in to its fullest extent. So I trudge on, holding my love in my arms while sharing my heartbreak with my lips.

  “Next few days passed by in a haze. I have no memory of how a cast was placed on my arm, or of the day my mother was laid into the ground. Nothing. But the day I woke up from that numbness, rage took its place, and I knew exactly who to blame for taking away the one person in the entire world who did deserve a better life than the one she got. So I did some digging, and for a twelve-year-old trying to get information on a motorcycle gang, it took a while. But a month later, I was able to get the whereabouts of the clubhouse from some kid who had been up there on a picnic once, and the name of its president.