“Uh, hi. I’m Cookie. I’m you two years ago,” she says in a mocking tone.

  It takes me a minute to decode that. So she’s telling me she’s another one of Rock’s fuck buddies? Awesome. Girls have been coming up to me all night with fake smiles and hellos while insinuating they’ve fucked Rock at one time or another. Cookie is the only who’s had the balls to be such a nasty bitch about it.

  With the exception of Trinity, from now on I’m going to assume Rock has stuck his dick in anyone with a vagina who sets foot in this den of sin.

  Wrath snorts. “Hardly.”

  “Cookie,” Rock warns. “You’re being rude to my woman.”

  She takes a step back, the whites of her eyes showing. Apparently the “my woman” thing hits home. But not for long.

  “Well, she ain’t gotta be so uppity. Bragging about being a lawyer and shit. I saw her leave the champagne room before. Thinks she’s too good to hang with us?”

  See, now that is hilarious to me, because I am pretty sure I have never once bragged about being a lawyer in my life. One, because the reality of being a lawyer sucks. Two, for this very reason here. People have unpredictable, asshole-y reactions to hearing that information.

  “Are you fucking stupid?” Trinity snarls. “Rock carried his woman outta there. We all saw it. Bitch, go sit down,” she finishes with a flick of her wrist.

  Why thank you, Trinity.

  Wrath’s forehead is pressed against Trinity’s back, but his entire body vibrates with laughter. Asshat.

  “You ain’t got nothing to say?” she challenges me. When I don’t respond, she continues. “See? Uppity.”

  “Maybe she’s freaked out that you’re acting like a psycho-bitch?” Teller offers helpfully.

  True, but not helpful, Teller.

  Rock is oddly still.

  “Cookie, simmer the fuck down,” he grits out.

  But maybe Cookie is stupid, because she ignores Rock and takes one more jab. “Fuck you too, Trinity. You wanna suck up to this uppity cunt, go ahead, but don’t forget you’re a whore like the rest of us.”

  I’ve never been called a cunt before. At least not to my face. And I’m furious she just called Trinity a whore, when as far as I can tell she’s the only one here who doesn’t act like a whore.

  Apparently that’s the last straw for Rock. He shifts me to the couch and towers over Cookie. “You’re done.”

  Her face transforms from rage to disbelief as it sinks in that she may have made a mistake…or ten.

  “Rock. I been with the club almost five years. You really gonna pick her over me?”

  “Cookie, you were warned multiple times.” He reaches back and flicks his hand. “Wrath.”

  “On it.” He pats Trinity’s ass, and she slides off his lap onto the couch, clearly unwilling to get too close to Cookie.

  “Let’s go.” He wraps a meaty hand around her toothpick-sized arm. It finally sinks in that the guys mean business.

  She starts sobbing. “I’m sorry, Rock.”

  Now she’s sorry.

  “You’re banned, Cookie. You can see if one of the other charters will take you in, but you ever show your face back here, I’ll end you.” Rock lays it all out to her with deadly calm as Wrath tugs her to the door.

  “Well, that was…” I have no words.

  Trinity snorts. “You know how I was telling you about other clubs?”

  Teller leans over. “She pulled that shit in another MC, disrespecting an ol’ lady, she’d be getting a beatdown or digging her own grave. Not getting a ride home.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  It’s after midnight. So technically birthday sex is off the table. All I wanted tonight was to take Hope upstairs and bury myself inside her. That’s still my plan—it just won’t be my birthday when I finally get my wish.

  Instead it’s been one ugly thing after another, just as I’d feared all along. No wonder it’s taken me so long to bring Hope back to the clubhouse.

  As I walk back to my girl after sending Cookie home with one of the prospects, I notice Hope’s got an uncertain smile stretched across her lips. Trinity and Teller appear to be trying to cheer her up. I could kiss Trinity—in apparently a fatherly way—for sticking up for Hope tonight. Wrath says she stuck up for me too earlier.

  When I get closer to Hope, I sense she’s angry. I mentally run over the list—and it is a long list—of things that could have pissed her off tonight. I’m impressed she hasn’t flipped out at any point this evening—another reason I’m so far gone over her. If I want to remain president, I need an ol’ lady who can keep her shit locked down and not throw a tantrum, even when she wants to choke my dumb ass.

  The entire trip upstairs, she’s silent. I’m concerned when we get on the other side of my bedroom door, she’s going to tell me we’re through.

  As soon as we’re alone, I dig into the conversation we need to have. “Let me have it, doll. How you doing?”

  “How am I doing?” she answers softly, pronouncing every word very carefully.

  Oh yeah, she’s pissed.

  She lifts her hand and starts ticking off my offenses. “Let’s see, you offered my legal services to someone without asking me, again.”

  Interesting. I didn’t expect her to lead with that.

  She uncurls a second finger. “You embarrassed me by insulting my office in front of all your friends. That made me feel like a fraud.”

  Fuck, I hadn’t meant to sound so dismissive. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “What was I going to say? I’m not going to pick a fight with you in front of your friends. It’s rude.”

  Damn, she’s cute. And better ol’ lady material than I ever thought.

  “Anything else?”

  Finished counting, she props her hand on her hip. “What are you fishing for, Rochlan? You want me to comment on the fact that you’ve apparently stuck your dick in every vagina here? And as if that’s not hard enough to swallow, they are complete and utter bitches about it?”

  I’ll admit, I’m a little turned on by the way she says my full name when she’s wound up. “I’m sorry.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me. “You’re sorry? You brought me here to let everyone know I was not just a ‘piece.’ And, by the way, very subtle—making me sit in your lap all night and carrying me around like your favorite chew toy. Maybe next time you can just lift your leg on me instead. But you knew there was a possibility every club girl was going to try to scratch my eyes out, and you didn’t have the decency to warn me. Oh, and my personal favorite of the night, the porn star entertainment.”

  “I did not know Inga was going to be here. She’s never been here before.”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “And I have not stuck my dick in every vagina here.” Close.

  “I heard that too.”

  “I know how strange all of this must be for you.”

  “Do you? You don’t even like me mentioning the names of my guy friends, but I’m supposed to hang back and act cool when some chick you used to nail gets in my face? I’m supposed to hang out with every woman who has ever sucked your dick like we’re all just one big, happy, incestuous little family?”

  My woman talking filthy does stuff to me. But this is serious, and we need to work through it. Plus, I’m pretty sure she will knee me in the balls if I try to get sweet with her right now. Just a feeling.

  “How would you like to sit around all night making polite chitchat with some guy I used to fuck?”

  “I wouldn’t.” Even the suggestion makes me seethe until I remember her husband is dead. Damn, I’ve been an asshole. “What do you want me to do, Hope? Should I ban every club girl I’ve been with?” It’s a real possibility. The guys will probably slit my throat, but Hope’s right. I can’t put her through another night of bullshit. The girls will be taken in by other charters. New ones will always find their way here one way or another. Fuck. I thrust my fingers through my hair. She’s go
t me so damn torqued up again.

  “Oh yeah. So everyone can hate me and think I really am a stuck-up bitch? Don’t you dare send your little muffler bunny fan club away.”

  Heh. I’m amused at her use of “muffler bunny” and assume she picked that up from Trinity. Without another word, Hope drops her arms to her side and marches into the bathroom. I use the time to pace because I’m pretty sure when she comes out she’s going to ask me to take her home.

  Instead, she surprises me by coming out dressed for bed. She shoots me a glare, walks over to her side, and crawls in.

  Yeah, definitely no birthday sex. But at least she’s staying.

  Not sure what else to say, I step into the hallway to clear my head. Catching sight of Z, I lift my chin and he strides over.

  “Why aren’t you with Hope?”

  “Giving her a minute.”

  “How pissed is she?”

  “Very.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No. It’s on me. Where’s Peach?”

  He jerks his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his room. “Not worth the trouble. A little hard to hold a conversation with her.”

  I snort, because the idea of Z wanting to “hold a conversation” with any woman seems so unlikely.

  “Give her a break. It’s hard to talk with a dick in your mouth.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Very funny, asshole. Since when do you talk to a fuck-and-go?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe I want a slice of what you’ve found.”

  Hope was right to accuse me of being territorial. “You stay away from what I’ve found.”

  He smirks but doesn’t respond.

  “You know she’s going to tell her friend Lilly about this, right?” I ask, just because I feel like being a dick.

  His gaze darts to mine like he never considered the possibility, then he tries to act casual. “Nah, that was a one-off. She made that clear.”

  I raise an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. Usually Z’s the one to explain there would be no repeat performances.

  “I could definitely hold a conversation with her. Fucking ah-maa-zing tits too.” Looking down at the ground, he shakes his head. “But, way too smart for me.”

  I leave Z to work out whatever he’s got going through his head. I guess we’re all going through our midlife crises a little early. Maybe if we’re real lucky, our periods will sync up or some shit.

  Hope’s curled on her side when I return. Her breathing is steady, but I don’t think she’s asleep. Even so, I’m careful not to touch her when I slide into bed. I settle on my back and stare up at the ceiling. Party noises still filter in through the thick door.

  Suddenly, Hope turns over and curls into my side. Relief grips me so strong I almost don’t know how to react. I hook my arm around her, and she snuggles in closer.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s my fuck up, baby doll.”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  Here could mean many things. In my life. In my bed. In my clubhouse. In this relationship. All those things. I don’t know which one she means, so I wait for her continue.

  When she finally opens her mouth, she doesn’t give me words. A slick, hot trail teases over my chest, circling my nipple. I groan, but don’t move. She buries her face in my neck, and I wonder if she’s trying to scent another woman on me.

  “I was in the hall talking to Z,” I reveal.

  It’s so dark I can’t see her expression, but she pulls back. She shifts again and trails her tongue down my chest, then lower, tracing my abs as she goes. Another groan slips out as I sense where she’s headed. She pauses at my boxer briefs. Not knowing where we stood, I didn’t think crawling into bed without covering my jewels was a great idea. She cups my rapidly growing erection, squeezing me through the material. I bump my hips up and she tugs them off, freeing me.

  Without warning, her warm, wet mouth closes over my dick.

  “Fuck!”

  She takes me deep and quick. Something’s not right. Oh, it feels fantastic, but there’s a desperate edge to her movements that sets sirens piercing through my thick skull.

  “Stop. Stop, baby doll.” As she moves faster, I suck air in through my teeth. Tunneling my fingers through her hair, I still her movements and pull her up to me. My cock curses at the loss of her sweet mouth. I roll us, pin her down, and kiss her. We’re a frantic tumble of lips, tongues, and teeth. Somehow I work her shirt off. Then her shorts get tossed to the floor, and I reach out to grab a condom from the nightstand. She stops me with a hand on my outstretched arm.

  “You don’t need it.”

  It would be cruel of her to tease me at this point. “You sure?”

  She hums against my neck. “I’m sure. Happy birthday.”

  Fuck, yes. Happy birthday indeed. All her sweetness belongs to me. As I slide into my luscious girl, we are nothing but slick, hot skin on skin. I have to take a moment to enjoy her fluttering around me. So damn tight. Every bit of her is mine.

  “This what I’ve wanted all night long, baby doll.”

  Warms shivers of pleasure sweep through me as she runs her nails lightly up and down my back, then traces down my arms. “Me too.”

  “This is all I ever want,” I admit. Somehow in the dark it’s a lot easier to spill these secrets.

  “I know.”

  Slow strokes. Enjoying every bare inch with nothing between us. Fucking fantastic. I burrow my arms under her, keeping her close. Her legs hug my hips, her heels resting on my ass. Love it. Faster now. Savoring every glide and thrust against her silky heat. I press my lips against her neck, kiss my way to her ear, and gently bite the soft lobe.

  “Can you feel that, baby doll?” I whisper against her neck.

  I feel her face pull into a smile, and her tight little pussy squeezes down on my cock even harder.

  “I feel you.”

  No. She’s not getting it. I have to get it out this time. She has to know—now.

  “No. Can you feel my heart…I love you so much.”

  This is why I needed to say it in the dark. If she isn’t feeling the same, it’s gonna cut through me. A sharp intake of breath. She strokes one hand along my cheek and coos in my ear. “Rochlan—you have no idea—I love you too.”

  The sweetest words she’s ever spoken. I brush my lips back and forth over hers, in a silent thank you.

  Best birthday ever.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The clubhouse is much quieter the next morning when Rock takes my hand and leads me downstairs. I’m a little overwhelmed. We fought. We made up. For a while I didn’t think I’d be able to get the images of him and other women out of my mind. Picturing him fucking the skanks that hung out in his club or the strippers that worked for him tormented me relentlessly. The irrational and out of control feelings kept me on edge. Worrying about the past served no useful purpose—the logical part of my brain knew that. I also can’t deny that Rock has been straight with me all along. He’s never hidden his past with the club girls or dancers from me. But knowing and having it thrown in your face were two different things. I couldn’t blame him for the actions of others, though—that certainly wasn’t fair.

  Besides, he loves me. No matter what happens, I’ll cherish his words forever. I never, ever thought I would be this lucky to find love again. Shivers work through me when I remember the intensity of his voice as he whispered those words in my ear. His love is a precious gift that I won’t allow anyone to tarnish with their ugly words.

  Murmurs reach my ears before I actually see anyone. The front door shuts, and everything is quiet until we enter.

  “Hey, prez,” Wrath says in a hushed tone when he spots us. Trinity is tucked up against him on the couch, using his thigh as a pillow while she sleeps. Rock nods, and I wiggle my fingers as a hello.

  Rock throws himself onto the couch next to Wrath and tugs me down with him. He arranges my
legs over his lap and leans in, pressing his lips to my ear. “Are you okay with sitting on my lap?”

  Shame prickles at me for the words I flung at him last night. I turn and kiss along his jaw until I reach his ear. “Nowhere else I want to be. I’m sorry I said that, I—”

  He captures my lips in a kiss, cutting me off. Wrath sighs audibly next to us. Rock presses his forehead to mine for a moment before turning to his friend.

  “You’re up early.”

  Wrath’s massive shoulders lift in a tight shrug.

  “She okay?” He jerks his chin at Trinity. The corner of his mouth tips up in a knowing smile. Wrath’s arm is curled around her, resting on her hip.

  Snatching his arm away, Wrath stretches it out over the back of the couch and Rock snickers.

  “I didn’t get any ass last night, thanks to you,” he grumbles.

  Rock snorts. “Yeah, it’s all my fault you’re such a prick.”

  I’m staying out of this one. Although he’s nice to look at, Wrath’s personality designates him completely unfuckable as far as I’m concerned. Inwardly I cackle that he didn’t get any last night.

  Z pounds down the stairs next. “Morning, fuckers. Oh, hey, Hope. I’m surprised you’re still here.”

  Rock grunts at him and possibly calls him an asshole under his breath.

  Unruffled, Z spins a chair around in front of us. He straddles it, draping his arms over the back. Today he’s wearing short sleeves, and I study his inked arms a bit. Rock notices my interest in his friend and pinches my thigh. I had to sit through his ex-whatever doing a special birthday strip show for him and get bitched out by one of his muffler bunnies last night, but I can’t look at his friend’s arms?

  Whatever.

  I bat my lashes at Z, and he smirks.

  “Where’s Peach?” Wrath asks.

  “Upstairs.”

  “You nail her?”

  I feel Rock shaking his head behind me.

  Z shrugs before answering Wrath’s question. “She’s a shit lay. Mosta them strippers and porn stars are. They act like they’re doing ya a favor and just lay there. Fuckin boring.”