My hands curl into fists. I can’t stop it. I’m so angry. At myself. At everything. “I had one similar to it on my desk at work,” I whisper.
He’s so still I can hear the crickets chirping outside.
“That…fucker,” I spit out, “gave it to me as present at a holiday party one year.”
Z remains quiet while I process the rest of my explanation into words I can actually say out loud.
I swear I still feel the pointy end poking into my neck. Not enough to injure me, unless I moved or screamed. In my peripheral vision, the bronze handle glinted under the harsh fluorescent lights.
All the shame and humiliation crashes over me in a tidal wave I’m afraid I won’t survive.
“I’m right here,” Z says. “I’ve got you, Lilly. Tell me.”
“He held it to my neck, while he…while…” I can’t breathe. My hands claw at my throat and I struggle to sit up. “‘Don’t worry. You’ll enjoy it,’ he said.” Hot tears burn down my cheeks and I furiously brush them away.
In this moment, I hate Z a little for making me remember all these sick details.
Behind me, Z’s tightly coiled body trembles with rage I can feel burning against my back. When he finally speaks, his voice is surprisingly gentle. “It’s okay. You don’t have to keep going unless you want to.”
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me back against the pillows and holds me until I’m almost asleep.
“I want you so much,” he whispers. “Don’t ever doubt that.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m broken.”
He kisses my head. “Everyone’s a little broken, Lilly. Together, we create something stronger and better.”
“You really believe that?”
“I do.” He’s quiet for a few seconds. “I’m sorry I made you talk about it.”
“You needed to know. You deserved…answers.”
“I never wanted to hurt you to get them.”
All my remaining anger blows away. “I know.”
“Lilly?” One of his hands slides down my arm and clamps down on my hip. “I really want to make love to you.” he rasps.
Damn him. He’s going to make me cry again. While he phrased it as a statement, I hear the question in his voice. I don’t think Z’s ever asked in quite that way before. And as much as I adore the big, bossy, biker, I’m-going-to-fuck-you-now attitude he usually approaches me with, this reaches me on a much deeper level. It makes me feel cherished instead of broken.
“I’d really like that,” I whisper.
Achingly slow, he slips the strap of my tank top off my shoulder, dropping kisses along the way. He shifts his body over mine and pulls down the other strap. Ravenous, he kisses every exposed inch, catching my nipple between his teeth and tasting with swift lashes of his tongue.
I moan and arch my back, asking for more. While he’s consumed with kissing and sucking my breasts, I reach down and shimmy out of my shorts and underwear, kicking them further under the covers.
He groans in appreciation. “Slow down, Siren.” He may be trying to slow this down, draw it out, but his hands immediately work between my legs, cupping me. His fingers part my lips and he slowly strokes my clit a few times before pushing a finger inside me.
“Oh,” I sigh and roll my hips. So good.
Spearing my fingers in his hair, I drag him up for a kiss. “Please, I need you.”
His answer isn’t swift enough, so I reach down and shove his shorts down. In case he didn’t take the hint, I wrap my fingers around his heavy erection. Satin over steel. I shiver with the anticipation of how good he’s going to feel inside me.
He bites his lip and stares down at me.
“That what you want?” he rasps.
“Yes.”
“Take it.”
I press my hands against his shoulder and push. “I want to ride you.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“That’s what I want.”
Keeping his arm around my waist, he rolls to his back. “Show me how you want me.”
God, I want him like I’ve never wanted anything. So much, I can’t even put it into thoughts or words.
“Come here.” His low command spikes my desire higher.
I straddle his hips and press my hands against his chest, slowly rubbing myself over his cock, but not taking him inside me yet.
He squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“Too hot to look at?”
His eyes open. “I see you, Lilly. You’re my beautiful goddess above me.” His lips twitch. “I was trying to worship you.”
“Until I decided to play rodeo girl?”
“Until you got greedy.” He reaches around me and grips his cock, holding it steady for me to sink down. “Come on.”
I roll my hips one more time, loving the way he bites his lip again and groans. His magnificent muscles strain with the effort of holding back.
My legs shake as he slowly pushes inside me.
“Oh, fuck, that’s good, Lilly. Just like that.” He curls his hands around my hips, gripping me tight.
I take him deeper, watching him battle his need to hold me down and thrust up into me. Rolling my hips, I take a little more, growing slicker and hotter. I close my eyes and relish this feeling I’ve never gotten anywhere else, take pleasure in how my body responds to him.
“Lilly,” he says hoarsely. “I love your fucking pussy.”
I can’t help laughing and he groans. I take my time riding him, driving us both wild. He touches me everywhere. Possessive caresses up and down my back, over my hips, down my thighs, encouraging and exploring every inch of me.
“I’m close. So close.” He’s so thick and hard, orgasm isn’t far away.
His hands go back to my hips, not guiding or directing. More like he’s appreciating every movement.
I gasp and grind into him harder, taking everything. My legs tremble. Heat blooms over my skin. My vision blurs. A low moan pours out of me. The relief takes my breath away.
Under me, he flexes his hips, drawing out the exquisite pleasure until I can’t take any more.
“Lilly,” he rasps, his voice a warning that he’s about to lose control.
I roll my hips slower, run my hands down his chest. “What do you need, Z?” I ask in a playful tone.
“I need to empty my balls in you, woman.”
I burst out laughing and he flips me on my back, thrusting back inside so hard, I gasp. His feet dig into the mattress, fucking harder and harder. Pinned underneath him, I lift my legs, wrapping them around his waist.
He growls a savage sound and wraps an arm around one of my thighs holding me tight. All his earlier restraint shattered by his need for release. The power of his body relentlessly pounding into me, his harsh breathing, the way he’s so focused on me, all of it has me on the edge again.
My name rips from his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut. His movements slow to a deep grind as he fills me with heat. The sensation triggers me again. Together, we strain and grasp at each other.
His sweaty forehead touches mine.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you too.”
Instead of pulling away, he wraps me up tighter.
“Z?”
“Hmm?”
I run my hands up and down his back, still enjoying the heavy weight of him over me.
“Am I crushing you?” he asks, opening his eyes. He groans and rolls to the side.
“No, I like it. Every time is better than the last. How is that possible?” I whisper.
His usual devilish smile makes an appearance. “You’re my magical, mythical woman. You can turn a man’s dick to stone just by looking at it.”
“Oh my God.” I flop against him and he curls his arm around me. “The stuff that comes out of your mouth.”
“You’ll never be bored.”
I flick my
tongue against his nipple and he groans. “Give me a minute to recover.”
“Recover in the shower. I’m sweaty and sticky all over.”
He glances down. “Never really had sex without a condom before you. Forgot how messy it is.” His voice falters on the last few words, as if maybe now isn’t the best time to bring up past conquests. I don’t want him to think he has to censor himself with me. I crawl up his body and straddle him again. Leaning down, I kiss his chest, swipe my tongue over his neck, and nip his earlobe.
“I like getting all messy with you,” I whisper against his ear. “Love feeling your cum inside me for hours after.”
He groans and grips my ass. “Fuck woman, what’re you trying to do to me?”
“Get you to shower with me.”
He grips my ass tighter, kneading and spreading my cheeks. “Love your fucking ass.”
“Don’t get any ideas. My back door isn’t open for business.”
He laughs so hard he ends up shaking me off him.
He rolls out of bed and holds out his hand to me. “Come on. Let’s clean up and get some sleep. I bet Little Man will be up early. “
“He’ll be happy to see you.”
“Planning to spend most of the day with you two.”
I lean up and kiss him. “Can’t wait.”
Chapter Fifteen
Z
Murphy doesn’t screw around.
Heidi stops by to see me the next day.
“Hi, Uncle Z!” she greets me with a big smile.
“Hey, when’d you get here?” I ask, standing up to give her a hug.
“Just now.”
“You even stop to see the house yet?”
“No, Murphy said you needed something.” She nods toward the open office door.
I motion her inside. “Where’s Alexa?”
“Outside with Murphy.” She glances over her shoulder. “She’s missed him a lot.”
“I promise I won’t keep him down here longer than I need to.”
A flash of guilt crosses her face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I know you didn’t, sweetheart.”
“If he’s still here when classes are over, we’ll just move down for the summer.”
“He’d like that. But I know he’s pretty anxious to move into that big house he’s building for you.”
“I swear he added more bedrooms and I’m scared to ask why.”
I raise an eyebrow. “We both know why.”
She tosses her head back and laughs. “Yeah, probably.” Her eyes sparkle and she leans forward. “What about you and Lilly? Chance needs a little brother or sister, don’t you think?”
“Hopefully, a brother. He’s already got Alexa and Grace to look after.”
She claps her hands together and squeezes her eyes shut, something she’s done since she was about four years old whenever something made her really happy. “This is so great. They already have a big brother.” Her face sobers some. “Sorry. I’m sure it’s been rough and I don’t really know what happened. I’m just happy they’re here now.”
I shake my head, not offended at all. It’s a weird fucking situation and I’m grateful Heidi has been as welcoming to Lilly and Chance as she has. “Same.”
“So,” she says, sitting back and adopting a more business-like tone, “I talked to Bree last night.”
“Wedding stuff?”
She laughs. “Yeah, lots of that. But I asked her about school, and how on earth she and Liam find time to spend with each other with him working such long shifts.”
Damn, Heidi’s smart. Instead of placing her firmly in the “little sister” category her whole life, maybe we should’ve been grooming her to patch-in to the club.
“And she reminded me Liam actually works the afternoon shift. But he’s had a lot of overtime lately.”
“Working downtown?”
“No, covering shifts for the officers with more seniority who are working downtown, adding extra coverage near the big trial. Sounds like he’s been stationed out by the mall and near campus. I didn’t ask her directly about the trial or federal building at all.” She flashes a devious smile. “Didn’t have to.”
Perfect. There are plenty of other members of Empire PD who I might know, but it sounds more like they’ll be patrolling the surrounding area, not necessarily the courthouse itself. I’ll verify that with one or two other contacts before deciding what course to take. “Excellent. Thank you, Heidi.”
She shrugs. “Sure, no big deal. I had a coupon to Michaels to share with her anyway. I think she’s bought out all the iridescent white ribbon in every craft store from here to New Jersey for these wedding favors she’s making.”
In some alternate universe, maybe I’d feel bad about asking Heidi to exploit a friendship. But that’s not how club life works. For a truly dedicated old lady like Heidi, the club will always come before any relationship with an outsider. Even someone she’s known since she was a kid, like Bree.
Being a cop, Liam’s smart enough to know the risk of Heidi and Bree’s friendship. Had Heidi asked direct questions about the trial and Bree even casually mentioned Heidi’s interest to him, he would’ve suspected we were up to something. Then a few weeks from now, when the poor, disgraced ex-senator comes to a violent and bloody end, someone would’ve been knocking on the clubhouse door.
Bree’s newly-rekindled friendship with a biker’s old lady probably annoys the shit out of Liam. Then again, I’ve met the guy, and while Teller’s right, he’s a straight shooter—the kind of cop I’d never offer a bribe. When Charlotte was attacked by her uncle, Liam bent the rules and allowed us to straighten things out beforehand instead of tossing Charlotte in jail. Even accepted the phony excuse about why we had video cameras in Charlotte’s apartment at face value. So, while the guy’s honest, he’s also smart and practical.
Believe it or not, I have respect for honest cops. They willingly risk their lives every day for shitty pay and even less appreciation. It’s that whole shit pay versus risk of life thing that usually turns them dishonest.
Still, since I plan to murder the ex-senator soon, I don’t want even a whiff of a connection between my club and him.
Chapter Sixteen
Z
“I don’t think I would’ve volunteered for this if I’d known I would end up in a suit,” Murphy grumbles, tugging at his sleeves.
“Aren’t you going to wear one at your wedding? It’ll be good practice.”
He growls out a few curse words. “I’m not sure what you’re going for, but we look more like mafia hitmen than politicians or lawyers.” He flashes his hands, covered in lots of ink, just like mine.
“We’ll blend in a lot better than we will in jeans and cuts. Quit your bitchin’.”
Outside, we run into Hope.
“Oh my. Where are you two off to?” she asks, approaching slowly.
“Just a little side hustle,” Murphy quips.
“Oh.” Her gaze swings my way. “I thought you might be sneaking off to marry Lilly.”
Her assumption both surprises and intrigues me. “You think Lilly would want that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. She’s pretty adventurous.” She turns her stern mother-hen stare on Murphy. “Don’t get any ideas. Your wedding’s happening here.”
Murphy smirks. “Yes, Mom.”
She fusses with the lapels on his suit, which Murphy tolerates a lot better than when I did it a few minutes ago. I’m about to toss out an additional mom joke when she starts doing the same thing to me.
“All right. That’s enough of that.” I brush off her hands and she grins up at me.
“Well, good luck with…whatever you’re doing.” Her face turns more serious and she squeezes my arm. “Be careful.”
Something she usually tells us when she senses we’re up to no good.
“I’ll do my best.”
All my planning and worrying were really for nothing. We follow a small crowd of people under
neath the eight-foot marble eagle resting over the entrance. The heavy, leather briefcase I’m carrying is the final, and most annoying, detail of my schmuck-in-a-suit costume. The guards open it and briefly flick through the contents before passing it through the scanner.
Once Murphy and I pass through the metal detectors downstairs and flash some—fake—identifications to the already-bored guards, we’re pretty much free to roam the courthouse. It’s five stories of modern but classic styling in the shape of a rectangle with lots of marble and giant columns.
Plenty of police, marshals, or guards are stationed around the place. But we walk with purpose, don’t linger, and no one really gives us a second glance.
“Not feeling reassured about our government right now,” Murphy mutters as we push the huge, wooden doors to Courtroom B open and scan the room.
“Were you ever?”
“Nah, I guess not. Just surprised we got in so easily.”
“Why? We’re nothing more than concerned taxpayers here to watch a public trial.”
He rolls his eyes at my sarcasm and lifts his chin toward an empty row up front.
Sure, why not.
Bad idea. Because as soon as that piece of scum takes his seat at the defense table, practically right in front of us, I move to stand up. To beat him to death with my bare hands? I’m not sure. Only a thick wooden railing that looks straight out of the 1930’s stands between me and him.
Murphy grabs my arm, yanking me back down into my seat. “What the fuck, bro? Calm yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
The judge enters a few minutes later and, like dutiful citizens, we stand for his introduction to the courtroom.
The trial is boring. We sit through several long, tedious, procedural speeches for pieces of evidence the prosecutor wants to introduce.
“Starting to understand why Hope hated being a lawyer so much,” Murphy whispers to me.
What the prosecutor keeps describing, politicians diverting public funds to their friends and taking a percentage on the back-end, doesn’t sound much different from how I assumed the government works anyway. Also sounds pretty similar to some of the club’s business dealings. No big shock there either.
Zero Regret Page 10
