I climb up his body, wrapping my fingers around his cock and lining it up with my center before I move my hand and sink down on him. I take him completely inside of me with a hiss of pleasure as he stretches me.
“Cleo,” he moans as his hands span my waist and then move up to my breasts, cupping them as his thumbs slide over my nipples.
My hips roll as I throw my head back, enjoying the warmth of his hands on my body. I whimper when he gently pinches my achy nipples, sending pleasure through my veins and urging me on. I move faster, gliding up and down on his dick, before I grind against his pelvis.
His fingers spasm and grip me tighter, bruising my breasts with his tight hold against my sensitive flesh. “Shit,” he curses.
“You feel so good, baby,” I whisper as I drop my head and look down into his eyes.
“You gonna make that pussy come for me again, sweetheart?” he grinds out through clenched teeth.
I wrap my hands around his wrists, which are still tightly gripping my breasts, and start to ride him harder, chasing my climax with each move of my hips. Paxton groans, but I can’t stop. If I tried, I feel like I might actually die.
“C’mon, Clee, fuck me,” he growls, squeezing me a little harder as my thighs shake around his hips.
I bite my bottom lip, feeling everything, every single thing. The way his fingertips grip me, the way his cock stretches me, and then the way he’s looking at me, as if I’m a mirage; like I’m not real, or that maybe I could vanish at any second right before his eyes.
“Pax,” I whimper.
I gasp and slam down on him, my pussy clenching him tightly. He thrusts up inside of me a few times while I ride the wave of my orgasm before he lets out a long groan and finds his own release.
“Fuck,” he rasps as his hands move to my back and pushes my chest down against his. My face goes directly into his neck after I fall forward.
“Mmm,” I purr against his skin as I press my lips to the side of his sweaty neck.
“Fuckin’ shit,” he mutters as his fingertips trace my spine before moving down to my ass, and then back up again. “Your nipples okay, sweetheart?”
“I feel absolutely wonderful,” I sigh as I squeeze my pussy around his cock for emphasis, making him groan.
I fall asleep on top of him, his dick inside of me, and his arms wrapped around me. I’ve never been more content than I am in this exact moment, not even when I had him all those years ago.
I’ve discovered that I didn’t really have him back then.
I had pieces of him, but I never had the version that I have now. I didn’t have his vulnerability, the background of his life, or just him. I had the pieces of him that he wanted to show, but not the ugly parts of him.
Now, I feel as though I have it all, and there’s something completely out of the world about it. It’s as though I cherish the little parts of him in a way where I never have before; perhaps because I’ve never actually had all of him before, not this way.
This is the way we were always meant to be. It’s been a long road, but the way I feel right now, I would endure it all over again.
I feel myself flying across the room, and I land on the floor with a thud, my eyes opening and my heart racing from the sudden move and fall.
Then I hear an agonizing scream and a long moan. It sounds like a wounded animal, and I stand up to see that it’s Paxton. He’s thrashing around in the bed, moaning and talking, but it’s guttural and animalistic. I can’t make out a single word he’s saying.
Slowly, I approach the side of the bed and sit down, placing my hand on his arm and giving him a gentle squeeze, careful not to jar him too much. I know you’re not supposed to wake someone up from a nightmare, but the way he’s thrashing around, I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself.
“Paxton,” I whisper, squeezing his arm again.
His head turns to face me, and his eyes open but I can tell that they’re completely void. He’s not awake. His eyes are wide and alert, but there’s nothing working behind them. I start to stand up, to step away from him, but his hand wraps around my wrist, and he tugs me down on top of him.
I struggle to move off of him, but he rolls so that he’s on top of me. He spreads my thighs with his knees before he slams his cock inside of me, never saying a word, but his gaze completely focused on me. I let out a cry of pain, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he starts to wildly pound inside of me. He groans, and no matter how scary he is, my body reacts, growing wetter with each stroke, until he starts to feel really good.
Wrapping my arms around his back, I meet his thrusts with my own, hoping that I’m helping whatever he’s going through in his mind, and not causing him more harm. He grunts, shoving his face in my neck while he continues to pound hard and fast into my body, no doubt bruising me.
“Come, baby,” I whisper against his ear.
He growls something against my skin before he moves his arms around my back and holds me even closer, his hips unstoppable as they continue with their punishing thrusts.
I come, it hits me suddenly and like a freight train, but I’m unable to enjoy it because Paxton doesn’t even skip a beat. He fucks me even harder. I didn’t think it possible, and tears start to stream down my face at the rapid impact of his cock drilling inside of me.
“Please, Paxton, please come,” I beg through my sobs.
I watch as he sits up and then his hand wraps around my neck as he squeezes me, harder than he ever has, making me gasp for air. I close my eyes, moving my hands from his back to his wrist, and I hold on. Then he stills inside of me and comes on a long guttural roar.
I wait for his fist to release my neck, but it doesn’t. I can see spots forming in my vision, so I do the only thing I can think of to wake him up. I reach back and slap him as hard as I can across his face.
“Fuck,” I hear him say somewhere in the distance. Then I suck in a deep breath of air as he releases my neck.
“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he moans.
Weightlessly, my body moves around, and then I feel my head land on his shoulder and his arms are surrounding me, his fingers combing through my hair as he rocks me.
“Please tell me you’re okay, sweetheart,” he whispers.
Once I’ve caught my breath, I lift my head and look into his eyes. He’s crying, tears streaming down his face, and his pretty stormy eyes look panicked and frightened as they take me in.
“I’m okay,” I rasp.
“Fuck, I hurt you. I could have killed you,” he whispers.
“I tried to wake you up. You were dreaming,” I say as I place my palm on his cheek, using my thumb to wipe the wetness under his eyes away.
“I raped you again, holy fuck,” he moans.
“You needed that. Baby, it’s my job to give you what you need,” I whisper as tears fill my own eyes.
“No matter what I need, it should never include hurting you,” he mutters. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”
The tears that were filling my eyes fall at his words. He hasn’t said them to me in over a decade, and I’m not sure he truly knew me enough to love me back then. I think he loved the idea of me, but not me. Now, though—now he knows so much more about me, and I know more about him.
“I love you too,” I rasp as I lean forward and place my lips against his.
He moves his hands to fist the back of my hair, tilting my head to deepen our kiss, shoving his tongue inside of my mouth and tasting me. I moan as he swirls his tongue, moving my hands to wrap around his neck and press myself even closer to him.
“I’ll go back on my meds. I hadn’t had a bad episode for so long that I thought I was good,” he murmurs against my lips.
“What meds?” I ask.
“Prazosin. It helps with the nightmares. Nothing gets rid of them completely, but that shit helps,” he shrugs.
“Paxton,” I whisper.
“Sweetheart, had I not woken up, I would have killed you. I was not in my right mind, and we live together. Unless
I start locking myself in the guest room to sleep, or staying down here, I can’t sleep next to you and have nightmares like that.”
“You are not sleeping down here,” I practically growl. He laughs lightly as he leans back, and his eyes search mine.
“The meds aren’t gonna hurt me, sweetheart. I shoulda never stopped taking them. I was self-medicating with booze and dope, but I haven’t been doing that at all the past month, so the nightmares reared their ugly head,” he murmurs as his hands wrap around my waist.
“Just don’t, don’t come down here and sleep here, leaving me at home,” I whisper, feeling irrationally emotional about the fact that he would be here alone with whores.
“It’s only you, Cleo. Swear to fuck, it’s only you,” he rasps. “But I’ll call the VA this week, get an appointment, and get on meds again.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“You okay, sweetheart? Honestly, tell me how bad I hurt you,” he says, furrowing his brows in worry.
“I’m okay, Pax. Let’s get some sleep, baby,” I murmur.
He nods his head, but I can see that he doesn’t believe me at all. We crawl between the sheets, and I sigh with contentment when he pulls my back against his front and wraps his arm across my breasts, holding onto my boob with a gentle squeeze before his lips touch my neck.
“You’re too good for me,” he whispers against my shoulder.
“I love you,” I breathe.
“Sleep, sweetheart,” he mutters.
TORCH
The knock on my door breaks me out of my sleep. I look down at Cleo to see that she’s still knocked out, her red hair fanned all around her, and she looks fucking beautiful.
There’s another knock, and I groan, pressing my lips to her shoulder as I gently remove myself from her sleeping body and stumble toward the door.
I open it just enough to stick my head out and see that it’s Grease, the Vice President, standing on the other side.
“Emergency church, now,” he grunts.
“Fuck. Yeah, be there in a sec,” I rumble.
He walks away without another word, and I grab a pair of jeans off my floor before making my way back to Cleo. Once my jeans are pulled over my hips, I press my knee into the bed as I lean down and kiss her cheek, whispering in her ear for her to wake up.
“What’s wrong?” she groans.
“I got a meetin’, sweetheart. I’ll be back as soon as I can, but I didn’t want you to get worried when you woke up and I was gone,” I explain. I watch as her eyes open and a lazy smile appears across her face.
“Okay,” she whispers, lifting her hand to cup my cheek, the way she always does. I fucking love it every time.
“Be back soon as I can, sweetheart,” I murmur, turning my head to place a kiss on her palm.
“I’ll be right here,” she says, snuggling further into the bed.
I reach around and grab a handful of her ass through the sheet before I bring the comforter over her body and grab my socks and boots. I pull them on and then throw my cut on, sans shirt, before I turn around to look at her. Gorgeous, made up, sleeping, or just doing a whole fuckload of nothing—that’s my Cleo.
I almost hurt her last night, and I hate myself for it; but I can’t deny that I’m a selfish man. Even in suggesting it, I never once actually thought about sleeping away from her. I’ll take my meds, I’ll drink myself to sleep, I’ll smoke, I’ll do whatever I need to so that she’s safe with me—always safe with me.
“What the fuck, man, I was getting ready to get my cock serviced,” Roach whines as soon as I walk into the clubhouse.
“You shouldn’t talk about your wife like that, brother,” one of the other guy’s mutters.
“Don’t be a pussy,” Roach grunts, slumping in the chair.
Shaking my head, I walk over to my own chair and sit down. My head is fucking pounding, but it’s not from a hangover, it’s more from lack of sleep and my actions from the night before playing on a repeated loop inside my head.
“We got problems. It’s why I called you all here,” MadDog announces as he takes his seat at the head of the long conference table.
We all sit in silence and wait for him to continue. Problems could be a number of things, so I wait until he clarifies.
“One of the Russians turned traitor last night. Got a call from Kirill this morning. When they were supposed to be taking out the top tier of The Cartel, they had a shootout at the actual wedding of a Bratva princess. He’s dead, and so are a few of The Cartel that were gunned down in their beds, but this is not over, not by a long shot, not like we all anticipated.”
“What’s this mean for us?” Texas asks.
“Not sure yet. Could mean nothin’, but The Cartel knows we’re friendly with the Russians. My guess is there will be blowback. What kind? I’m not sure. I do know that they’re sneaky fucks, and their whole deal has been trying to get women and children for sex trafficking. If I were a betting man, I’d say that’s where they’re going to be hitting us. What club? I don’t know. When? No fuckin’ clue. We just have to stay vigilant and put a tighter rein on the women and children again,” MadDog announces.
Nobody says a word. Many of the men have Old Ladies, but even more of them have kids. The threat of the unknown enemy is scarier than the enemy you know.
The Cartel hasn’t ever truly struck us before. We can guess where they will strike when they do, but we can’t guess anything else. We’re all walking around with our hands tied. It makes me fucking twitchy.
“If we find out where any are around here, can I count on you, Torch, to do your thing?” MadDog asks, interrupting me from my thoughts.
“Blow them up?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Yeah,” he grunts.
“Tell me when and where.”
“Okay. For now, we’ll keep an ear to the ground. I’ll talk to the Russians and their IT guy, see what kind of activity they’ve got going on. I’ll also call all the other clubs and talk to the presidents, issue warnings and shit,” MadDog states before he slams his gavel down.
We all disperse and go back to our women, some of the guys walking straight over to the bar. I make my way to Cleo.
Walking through the doorway of my room, I lock the door behind me and shed my clothes before I crawl in behind her and hold her to me.
“You’re back,” she sighs.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” I whisper as I hold her a little tighter.
“Love you,” she whispers.
“Never stop,” I rumble as sleep takes me under.
Though the threat toward the club is serious, I don’t have to worry. I’ll never let anything touch my sweet Cleo.
Chapter Twenty-Two
CLEO
“Your party is tonight. Do you need anything special?” Lisandro asks as we clean the counters at the store.
It’s been a week since the party at the clubhouse; a week since getting completely trashed; and a week since Paxton had a nightmare. He never did talk to me about what his dream entailed, but I can guess it was about one of his tours overseas.
I haven’t pushed him to talk about it, even though I personally think that it would help. He has an appointment with the VA next week for his medication.
I don’t think he’s been sleeping well, though. I think he’s afraid to hurt me again. I hate that he’s so scared. He’s been through so much. He shouldn’t fear falling asleep next to me.
“Clee?” Lis says, interrupting me from my thoughts.
“Oh, sorry. No, just yours and Theo’s beautiful faces,” I grin.
“Okay, he should be home by now. I’m going to pick him up and we’ll be just a few minutes behind you. Bye, Gina. You call me if there’s a problem,” Lis calls out as he scoots out of the front door.
“You sure you’re okay to close alone?” I ask Gina as I gather my purse in my hand.
“I’m fine. My boyfriend is going to pick me up, so he’ll be here watching the doors while I lock up,” she says wi
th a reassuring smile.
“Okay. See you Monday.” I wave to her as I walk out of the front door.
I’m digging through my purse, getting Paxton’s car keys out of my bag, when I feel a presence behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I turn around slowly, but there’s nobody there. I shake off the bad feeling. It’s only three in the afternoon. Its sunshiny and beautiful, and I’m just being paranoid.
I open the door to the Ranchero and slide into the driver’s seat, starting the engine and hearing it roar to life. I feel safe now, in his car and away from whatever creepy feeling that was behind me in the parking lot. I put the car in reverse and scream when the passenger door opens and slams closed.
Mr. Garcia is sitting next to me, pointing a gun in my face, a maniacal smile on his face.
“You really should have just gone on the date with me, then we could have avoided all of this over the top dramatic bullshit,” he states, almost bored sounding. “Now you’re going to need to drive back to Sacramento, please.”
I stare at him for a moment too long. His free hand shoots out and slaps me across the face before he screams in my face. I throw the car in drive and aim it toward the city.
I glance in my rearview mirror, hoping that Paxton had a man on me today. He doesn’t always. He’s never consistent with sending someone to watch after me, but I can only hope and pray that today was a watch Cleo day.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Cleo,” he states as my fingers grip the old steering wheel.
“Thank you,” I whisper, not wanting to answer him, but also not wanting to be hit again.
“The moment I met you, I knew that you would fetch a high price. Natural redheads are always desired. I asked Voight if you were natural. He, of course, supplied me with the knowledge that you were indeed. Though he didn’t go back for seconds, and I’m curious as to why. Your body is absolutely delightful; perhaps a little too full for most of my clients’ taste, but I have a wide variety of clients. Some prefer chubbier girls,” he shrugs.
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