Nothing Else Matters (Demons Disciples MC Book 2)

by Allana Walker

  “Some people are stuck in the dark ages.”

  “Mom!” Emily runs in and hugs me. “You should see the dances Grandpa and Dad did.”

  “I can’t wait to see them. Go grab your bag, Dad’s waiting outside. Grandma and Grandpa are cooking us a meal.”

  “I miss your dad's famous Christmas Eve dinners.” Jake Snr. sighs.

  “You could have come. I’m sure he has enough to feed an army.” I remember all the family meals we used to have growing up. Dad cooked enough to feed the whole of Phoenix and still have more left over. We ended up taking it to the homeless shelters around the city. Of course, Denise set it up so paparazzi would be there to capture the moment to strengthen Dad’s campaign.

  “Thanks, but we’ve already had our meals, and I need to take this one to the airport.”

  “You’re not staying here for Christmas?”

  Jake shakes his head. “No. I need to get back to New York.”

  “Are you going to be on your own, Grandpa?” Emily looks up at Jake Snr., who smiles down at her.

  “No, I’m going to Uncle Joseph's.”

  “Okay,” Emily seems satisfied with that answer. “I love you, and have a Merry Christmas. Come on, Blue.” She runs out to the car where Striker is waiting after hugging Jake and his dad.

  “You sure you don’t want to talk about this?” I ask Jake once more.

  “Dee, I’m fine.” I wrap my arms around his waist, and I feel him tense, which tells me he’s hurt more than he’s letting on.

  “I love you, Jake. Have a Merry Christmas.” I reach up, kissing his cheek, then walk to the car.

  “Everything okay?” Striker asks, starting the engine when I get in the car.

  “I don’t know.” I exhale a heavy breath.

  The drive back to Dad’s was full of Emily telling us all about what she got up to with Jake and Jake Snr. She mentioned that Jake had a fall, and that’s how he got all those bruises. Thank God he didn’t tell her the real reason.

  “Must have been some fall. I saw some of the bruises from the car.” I can feel Striker's quizzical gaze on me as we walk in the door.

  “Emily, go put your stuff in your room and wash up for dinner.”

  “Hey.” Striker lightly wraps his hand around my arm, stopping me walking away. I spin on my heel and look up at him. “What happened?”

  “Jake got beat up.” His eyes widen a fraction. “I swear if I find out who it was-” I have an intense need to get justice for Jake. I mean, I know we’re no longer together, but he’s still my best friend and Emily’s dad. He gave up so much for me and helped me in my time of need. The least I can do is return the favor. I’m not saying I would fight them or anything, but at least try to bring them to justice and put them behind bars.

  “You’ll do jackshit.” He glowers down at me, not giving me a chance to finish what I was about to say. “You’re pregnant, Daria.”

  I square my shoulders, glaring up at him. “I know damn well that I’m pregnant.”

  “Hey. Pop said dinner is almost ready.” Nico walks out. Striker and I are still scowling at one another. “We okay out here?”

  “Fine,” I turn and storm away to the dining area where Jess is setting the dinner table.

  “Hey, Dar,” Jess says when she glances up to see me walk in. I walk to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. She follows me when I don’t speak, abandoning what she was doing.

  Taking a gulp, I tell her what happened to Jake. “Jake got beaten up for being gay.”

  She stands straighter. “What? Why didn’t he tell us?”

  “He didn’t want to bother us. He’s a mess.”

  Striker and Nico walk in after me and our eyes meet. I pivot and walk through the patio doors, sitting on the lounge chair at the side of the pool.

  “What’s going on with you two?” Jess asks, sitting beside me.

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  “We were fine until I said that I wanted to find out who beat up Jake.”

  “Daria, you’re pregnant. You can’t go around trying to find bad guys.” Jess laughs at me. “Seriously, Dar, what’s going on with you lately? One minute you’re loving life, the next you want to go and search for guys who are clearly dangerous. You still going to your therapy sessions and taking your medication?”

  “Nothing’s going on, Jess, other than the fact that I have raging hormones coursing through me, making me snap at everything and anything. Plus, I’m just so angry. Not only that some cowards would do this, but the fact Jake didn’t tell either of us. I’m still keeping to my promise of going to my sessions, don’t worry.”

  “Easier said than done when you’re acting like you can take on the whole world and its brother.” She sniggers. “Besides, it’s Jake. He hates telling people when he’s hurt. But that doesn’t explain why Striker was glaring at you.”

  “The way he just spoke to me, it rubbed me up the wrong way.” I huff out a breath. “We had such a great morning and afternoon, and it’s gone to shit. I just want to be happy for a whole day.” Tears fill my eyes.

  Jess places her hand between my shoulder blades and pulls me into a hug. “It wouldn’t be you and Striker if there wasn’t some sort of drama on a daily basis.”

  “Ugh, I forgot about this part of pregnancy.” I dab my eyes.

  “Don’t miss that part. Miss balancing stuff on my bump, though.”

  “Do you guys want any more kids?”

  She averts her eyes down and shakes her head clear of whatever just went through her mind. “I do, but I’m happy with my boy.”

  “Jess, are you okay?”

  “Of course. Besides, I’ll have your brood to babysit.”

  “Brood? Maybe one more, but brood? No way.”

  “Really? You always said you wanted a big family.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just don’t think I can handle any more pregnancies and have the fear of something happening the whole way through.” Tears fill my eyes again. “Damn it! I’m going to get freshened up.”

  We walk back in. Jess sits beside Nico and I walk by the side of the table where Striker and Dad are sitting with Ezra on Dad’s knee. I bend, kissing Ezra’s blonde hair, and he giggles at me. I kiss Dad’s cheek too. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Dinner in five, pumpkin.”

  “Okay, I’ll be down in three,” I call back, walking up to my childhood room.

  I sit on my new bed. Dad cringed when I told him I had broken it, but he laughed afterward, which surprised me. I thought he would have gone crazy, but I’m twenty-nine, not seventeen. Part of me still feels like a teenager around him. Maybe because I missed out on the later teenage rebellious days. I was bringing up a child at that point, and I didn’t see him for ten years.

  I look around my room and smile at all the pictures and medals, still the way I left them. I walk over to my closet to get changed out of my jeans into comfy sweats.

  “Baby?” Striker calls as I take off my jeans. He pops his head around the door. “You okay?”

  “I’m okay. I’m sorry about earlier. I’m just pissed at Jake for not telling me.”

  “I understand.” Tears spring to my eyes. “Don’t cry.”

  Looking up into his eyes, I repeat words I spoke to him months ago. “I need you to be honest with me. I can’t deal with any more secrets or lies.”

  “Where’s this come from? I haven’t kept anything from you since we got back together.”

  I take a deep breath. “I know, I just… being back at my dad’s at this time of year, it brings back so many memories. Some I don’t want to remember about my stepmom, and some I love about my dad.”

  “Well then, let’s replace those horrible memories with fresh, happy new ones with your mom, dad, and big brother.”

  When we walk downstairs, I see my family all sitting at the table, laughing and smiling.

  “Come on, cupcake. I’m starving,” Nico shouts over to me.

  “What’s new?” Jess laughs at her
husband.

  “Let’s go, babe.” Striker takes my hand in his, and we walk to our seats.

  Striker is about to start eating, but stops when Dad coughs. I place my hand on his thigh and whisper to him. “We need to pray first.”

  After Dad says his prayer, we dig into his fantastic meal of steak pie, roast potatoes, and roasted vegetables. Damn, I forgot how much of an amazing cook Dad is.

  “So, how did the scan go?” Lauren asks.

  “Baby is happy and healthy. My blood pressure is a bit on the low side, but she said to just up my water intake and eat smaller meals throughout the day.”

  “And take it easy.” Striker gives me a pointed look.

  “How can I take it easy when you just bought me a building to start my own business?”

  “Talk about timing, man.” Nico snickers, sipping his beer.

  “We’ll work it out. There’s plenty of us to help. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It’s not in my DNA to not worry about that sort of thing,”

  Dad lets out a laugh. He’s the same. Everything has to have a timeframe, and everything must be done in that timeframe, otherwise it causes him anxiety. Just thinking about it and how much work will have to go into the whole build has my heart beating fast and my stomach flipping.

  “Cupcake, it will be fine,” Nico reassures me from across the table. “You just look after my niece or nephew.”

  “Mom, can I have a sleepover at Ben’s?” Emily gives me another reason to have a ball of anxiety thrown at me. I choke on my water, risking a look at Striker. “After the holidays.”

  I place my hand on Striker's thigh to stop him talking himself into an argument with our ten-year-old daughter. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’ll need to speak to Dad in private about that.”

  “Why? I’ve had sleepovers there before. His big brother is so dreamy.” She sighs. Jess snorts into her wine.

  I jump when Striker’s hand lands on my thigh. He has a mischievous glint in his eye.

  “I seem to remember a certain someone wanting to stay over at her best friend’s house too because she had eyes for a big brother.” It’s Dad's turn to throw me under the bus. Striker moves his hand off my leg, and the cheeky glint vanishes from his eyes at the mention of Austin.

  “It was a teenager with a crush.”

  “One you acted on,” Jess mutters, then grimaces, clasping her hand over her mouth when she realizes it slipped out. I throw her a pointed look; I hate her right now.

  “Once, and that was a mistake.” I can feel Striker getting pissed, even more than before.

  “Austin’s a nice boy. He knows how to treat a woman,” Dad chimes in. Of course, he would say something like that to get at Striker.

  Striker’s chair scrapes back, and he storms out the patio doors.

  “Daddy?” Emily calls after him, confused. I place my hand on hers. She doesn’t need to see her father upset and angry. I look at Nico, sending him a silent plea to go after Striker because I think I’m the last person he wants to see right now. Nico nods at me and walks out.

  “Something I said?” Dad blinks at me, innocently drinking his beer.

  “That was uncalled for, Dad,” I snap, my mouth flattening into a straight-line. I swing my gaze to Jess. “And you.”

  “I’m sorry, Dar. It slipped out.”

  “It’s not me you two have to apologize to.” I take a sip of my apple juice. My stomach rolls.

  Shit.

  I get up, run to the bathroom, and bring up the meal Dad cooked.

  “Okay, baby. You don’t like apple juice. I’ll add that to the long list of stuff you hate,” I whisper between heaves.

  “Daria?” Striker calls through the door.

  “Just a se-” I can’t finish my sentence before the rest of the meal comes up. A hand rubs my back.

  “You okay?”

  “Do I look okay?” I snap, sniffing, then sigh when I see his hurt expression. “I’m sorry. This pregnancy is worse than it was with Emily. Morning sickness was gone by this point.”

  “Do you need to go back to the hospital or call Dr. Brooks?” he asks, still rubbing my back.

  “No, I’ll be fine.” I stand, swaying a little, and Striker steadies me. I place my hands on his forearms for extra support, looking up at his worried blue eyes.

  “Sure?” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, searching my eyes. I stare at him for what feels like forever. My stomach flips and my heart drops to my stomach, blood rushing to my ears. I can’t think of anything other than fucking him in my parents’ bathroom. It’s like I’m possessed. “Ba-”

  I jump into his arms, shocking him. My lips fuse with his, not giving a shit that I’ve just thrown up. He grabs my ass, squeezing hard, making me moan out as I move against him, trying to get some sort of release. He pins me against the wall with his hips, still assaulting my mouth. He undoes his belt and pops the buttons of his jeans, releasing his cock. He sets me down, and I mirror his actions with my jeans, revealing my ice blue lace panties. His eyes rake over my body hungrily, stopping at my small bump. His hand rests on my stomach, and my skin pebbles at that simple action. His other hand moves up to the back of my neck then his fingers curl around my ponytail, pulling it back, making me gasp. I haven’t had this side of Striker in weeks. He’s always been too scared to be too rough with me because of the baby. His head descends to my neck, kissing, nipping, and sucking. The hand that was on my stomach is now on my ass, and I lift my leg, thanking God for being flexible enough to reach his hip. His hand leaves my ponytail and grabs my other ass cheek, lifting me from the ground again and pinning me to the back of the door. He reaches between us, pulling my panties to the side and slams into me hard. I squeal out loud in surprise.

  “Shh,” Striker puts his hand over my mouth to muffle my moans so no one hears us. “This is going to be fast and hard, baby. If it gets too much, tell me.”

  I nod, looking into his darkened blue eyes. He drives into me fast and hard like he promised, and I feel myself building higher. I feel like someone has replaced my blood with hot liquid. Striker wraps his hand around my neck, just resting it there, not squeezing. I find myself wanting him to press harder.

  “Squeeze,” I breathe out. His eyes snap up to look at me and he stops moving inside me. “Do it. Fuck me like you did when you were first inside me.” Memories of the first time he fucked me get me wetter, but I soon regret it when another memory I tried to forget sneaks up on me. “Do it, Striker. Choke me.” I can tell he’s hesitant. “I trust you,” I rasp out.

  He shakes his head. “That’s too dangerous for the baby. Besides, I’m not comfortable doing that. It brings back too many bad memories.” I swallow, but nod my understanding that it’s hard for him thinking back to the time where he almost killed me. He begins to move again and fucks me harder until I come all over his dick. Two more pumps, and he follows me. A tear slips from my eye, but I wipe it away before he notices.

  He sets me down. I clean myself up and put my sweats back on, splashing my face with water and hoping to wash the look of sadness away. I should be elated by the fact that we’re back together and we’re having another baby, but I can’t shift the feeling of sadness. He was upset because of what my dad said about Austin basically being the better guy for me, and now this. Me asking him to do something that would trudge up so many bad memories. I just wanted to feel like he still wanted me like that, that raw passion we always had. It just seems to have fizzled away, and I’m petrified he’ll get bored and start sleeping around. I look up into the mirror, catching his gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the door frame.

  “What?”

  “Want to tell me why you wanted me to choke you like I did when we first met?”

  My cheeks heat. I feel like a completely different person when he’s inside me. It’s like he gives me the confidence to be more out there in the bedroom department.

  “I just wanted you to treat me like your girlfriend and
not some delicate flower because I’m pregnant.”

  Okay, not a total lie. I want him to fuck me like we used to. The whole vanilla thing gets old very quickly. I need that passion, like when we were first together.

  “I’ve never screwed a pregnant woman before, Daria. This is all new to me.”

  “The baby is well protected. You want to throw me against the wall and fuck me hard? Do it. I’m not made of porcelain.”

  “Noted.” He nods. “You sure that’s all?”

  “I’m sure.”

  ***

  “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” Emily runs into my room, jumping on Striker, her knee hitting his manhood.

  “Jesus Christ!” he shouts out in pain.

  “Sorry, Dad.” Emily bites her lip. I can tell she’s trying not to laugh.

  “It’s okay, princess,” he gasps. “I just need a minute.”

  “Emily, go wake Grandma and Grandpa.” I stifle my laugh, watching Striker turning his head, groaning loudly into the pillow. Emily leaves, giggling. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” He puffs out his cheeks, blowing out. I bite my lip. “Baby?”

  I move the comforter, pulling his boxers down, and take him in my mouth after kissing his balls better. My tongue flicks the tip and his hand grips my hair, pulling a little to urge me on. I drag my teeth up the underside, and I know he’s a goner as soon as he hits the back of my throat. Thankfully, I was blessed with no gag reflex.

  “Shit, Daria.”

  Hot, salty liquid hits my mouth, and I swallow every drop. I crawl up his body until I’m above him, face to face. I kiss him so he tastes himself, like he does to me when he goes down on me.

  “Better?”

  “Much.” His fingers comb my hair, his thumb grazing my cheek. “I love you, Daria. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, babe.” I smile at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, baby.” He pecks my lips. “Better get up before our daughter comes back and knees me again. I would like to have more kids.” He winks when I roll off him.

  “Whoa, let’s have this one first.” My eyes widen.

  “Hey.” He cups my face in his hands. “I was kidding.” I look away. “Are you okay after last night? I feel like you’re keeping something back.”