~*~*~*~
He doesn’t fuck me hard on the bike, but that’s because Ash runs over and hauls me off before he can. I notice his irate expression, but he doesn’t stop her. We all enter the big, pounding bar, and I glance around. It’s all wooden, everything from the bar to the booths. It’s shiny, it’s attractive, and it’s classy. There are colored lights coming from the ceiling, and pool tables in the middle of the room.
Booths are spread out around a dance floor, and there’s a DJ in the corner. Mack leans down to my ear and murmurs, “Drink?”
“Vodka,” I yell, unable to take my eyes off the gorgeous bar.
“Come on, let’s get a booth,” Ash says, dragging Santana and I to a large semi-circular booth. We slide in.
“Isn’t this bar awesome?” Santana yells over the music.
“It’s cool!”
There are a group of girls in the booth beside us and I notice Ash watching them, her eyes hard. I see where they’re staring and see that they have their eyes on our bikers. My lips quirk, and I turn to Ash. “Calm down, wildcat.”
She turns to me, but before she can answer the room goes quiet. The DJ announces he’s getting a drink and will be back in five. The music stops and we can hear each other speak. We can also hear the girls in the next booth.
“I’d take the big one,” a blond girl murmurs. “He’s hot.”
“See the other one, though,” a dark-haired woman breathes. “Yummy. I’d like him deep.”
My mouth drops open, Ash growls, and Santana’s eyes flash.
“No way,” a redhead says. “Give me the fucking Indian.”
The fucking Indian?
The. Fucking. Indian?
Oh, hell no.
I stand before I think about it, and charge out of the booth to the sounds of Santana and Ash yelling my name. I walk around to the girls’ booth, put my hands flat on it, and lean down.
“Ah, can we help you?” Blondie asks.
“Those guys you are checking out,” I say in a sing-song voice.
“Oh, the hot ones?” Redhead murmurs.
“Yeah, aren’t they fine?”
She nods. “Especially the Indian.”
I lean down ever closer. “That Indian is mine, and you just pissed me the fuck off.”
Her face whitens and she mumbles, “I wasn’t trying to be rude, I didn’t know . . .”
“Fucking Indian,” I breathe. “Fucking. Indian.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
I lean in closer and bark, “Fucking Indian!”
“I’m sorry!” she cries.
“That man is a lot of things. He’s gorgeous, he’s talented with his body and his mouth, he’s sweet and hard at the same time, but he’s not a fucking Indian.”
“Okay, I get it,” she mumbles.
“I’m very glad to hear that.”
I push back and turn, but not before I hear her mutter, “Stupid Indian bitch.”
Oh, she did not.
I spin, lash out and take her drink, which is bright red with fruit all through it, and I dump it on her perfectly-styled hair. She screams, sliding around the booth like a mad woman.
“Next time I won’t be so kind,” I growl.
Then I turn and head back to our booth, listening to her cries and wails about her dress and her hair.
Bitch.
When I get back, the guys are back and are staring at me.
“What?” I ask, sliding in and taking my drink. “She pissed me off.”
Maddox’s lips quirk, Krypt throws his head back and laughs, and Mack rewards me with a kiss so hard my lips feel like they’re bruised.
“You just get fuckin’ better,” he murmurs into my ear.
“No one calls you a fucking Indian.”
He chuckles softly.
“No one.”
His body shakes.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Wild.” He nips my earlobe. “Fuckin’ wild.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
We’re dancing, loud and happy. Santana is to my left, shaking what her momma gave her, Ash is to my right, her arms in the air as she squeals happily. I’m in the middle, wiggling my hips, drink in hand. We’re just happily enjoying our dancing when hands go to my hips. I look over to see a tall, attractive man smiling down at me.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he purrs.
I stare up at him, confused. “Do I know you?”
“Just wanted to dance.”
I’m still wiggling, not realizing it. His hands are on my hips still, because I’m in shock.
“Ah, no thanks.”
He grins down at me and I return the grin, but mine is cold. I’m about to tell him right where to go when he’s suddenly launched off me. I spin on a squeal to see Mack holding him by his shirt, his face close.
“Get the fuck away from her.”
Oh, man.
“Just dancin’, dude,” the guy growls.
“She don’t wanna dance.”
“Funny that, ‘cause my hands were on her hips.”
Mack’s eyes flare and I mutter a, “uh-oh” before he lifts the guy and literally throws him across the room. My mouth drops open as the man skitters through crowds of people before crashing into a table. Holy shit, I had no idea Mack was so strong. He turns to me, but the man is up and charging towards him.
Not good.
“Mack,” I cry.
He spins just as the man reaches him, but he’s not quick enough, and it earns him a fist to his mouth. Mack takes two steps back, blood leaking from his lip. His eyes go from angry to furious and he lifts his fist, hitting the guy four straight times. The guy’s nose splits and he screams, then Mack proceeds to lift him once more and launch him back across the room.
My God.
Bouncers are closing in, and Mack doesn’t waste time. He drops his shoulder to my belly, lifts me up, and disappears in the opposite direction. He carries me through the crowds of watching people and through the back door. The bikes are around the back, and he stops at his, dropping me to my feet. It’s quiet out here, and there’s no one around. I open my mouth to speak, but Mack gets in first.
“You like bein’ a dick tease?”
Oh, I don’t think so.
“Excuse me?” I snap.
“I saw him there, Jaylah. Hands on you, you grinnin’ up at him.”
“I was about to give him a smart remark!”
“When you’re in my bed,” he growls leaning in close, “you’re mine.”
“Last time I checked, we’re fuck buddies, and that doesn’t include all this possessive shit. Don’t fool me for other stupid, brain-dead girls, Mack. I’m not thinking this is something it isn’t; I’m not waiting around forever for you to get your head out of your ass. I’m here until the money is paid back, then we’re done.”
“Wrong.”
“Right.”
His fingers tangle into my hair and he pushes me against his bike. It’s warm there from earlier, and I gasp at the heat against my legs.
“You’re in my bed. You’re mine.”
“No, Mack.”
“Fuck it, don’t push me.”
“Push you?” I laugh. “You’re the one who is choosing to live like a caveman, taking girls home over your shoulder, fucking them and disposing of them.”
“Cavemen didn’t do that.”
Argh.
“Stop it. We’re fuck buddies. Fuck. Buddies. That does not give you the right to throw me over your shoulder, carry me out and demand that I’m yours. You want me to be yours, Miakoda, then make me yours, otherwise all we’re doing here is fucking.”
His jaw ticks, and his eyes look almost black under the moonlight.
“You want somethin’ I can’t give.”
“Wrong,” I grind out. “I’ve seen you give it. I’ve seen you give it to Santana, and in the past week I’ve seen you give it to Diesel. You either choose to give it to me, or you don’t. You don’t, we end this when the mone
y is paid back.”
“Santana?”
“I’ve seen you with her,” I growl, hating that I sound jealous. “I’ve seen how fucking sweet you are to her.”
“She’s like my sister.”
“You’re still giving it to her.”
“It’s different.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He growls. I glare.
“We’re fuck buddies; that’s it. You made that very clear,” I snap. “So go ahead and take what’s yours, because it’s the only thing I’ll give you while we’re playing this stupid fucking game.”
“Then for now, I sure as shit will be takin’ what’s mine.”
With that, he reaches down, jerks my skirt up, and then lifts me so my backside is against his bike. Shit, will this thing fall over? I don’t get time to ponder that because his lips crush down on mine. Oh, yes. Mack angry is hot, and annoying, but mostly hot. His tongue toys with mine and I hear the buckle of his belt as he undoes it. He’s going to fuck me, I don’t doubt that, but he’s not going to be slow about it.
No foreplay.
Just sex.
He reaches between my legs, pulling my panties aside. “You’re fuckin’ wet.”
I am wet, because this is hot.
He jerks his jeans down, grips my ass, and then he’s inside me, deep, super deep and hard. Fucking hard. I cry out his name but then bite my lip, not wanting anyone to interrupt us right now.
“Baby,” he rasps.
Baby? Oh God, my heart just fell in love with him a little more.
“Mack,” I mewl. “Fuck me hard.”
“Jesus,” he grinds out and he fucks me hard.
“Harder,” I breathe, sliding my fingers up his shirt and running my nails down his belly.
“Fuck, baby, I fuck you harder we’re gonna be on the ground.”
“Mack,” I demand between moans. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
He lifts me off the bike and takes a few steps, then my back is against a fence and he’s fucking me so hard that all that’s coming out of my throat are little oomphs as my back hits the fence. His fingers are biting into my ass, mine are shoved up his shirt and he’s giving it to me hard. Really fucking hard.
“Mack, I’m going to come,” I scream.
“Come, fuck, put that wet all over my cock.”
My body jerks, and I come so hard I feel my arousal release and coat him. I don’t have time to be ashamed; I’m too busy jerking with an incredible pleasure that I’ve never felt before in my life. Mack thrusts a few more times, then he’s pulsing deep inside me, growling my name, his teeth nipping the skin at my neck.
“Oh, God,” I breathe when we both stop panting.
“Fuck.”
Silence falls, and he slowly releases me, letting me slide down his body. I fix myself, and realize that the silence is extremely painful because I don’t know what it means.
“Are we clear, Mack?” I whisper into the darkness.
“Yeah,” he grinds out. “We’re clear.”
“We fuck. It ends.”
He’s silent.
“Mack?”
“Fuck.”
“Mack.”
He turns, gripping the back of my head and pulling me close. “Not done more than fuck since . . .”
“I know.”
“You’re askin’ me to trust. I don’t fuckin’ trust.”
“Then it ends,” I whisper.
He drops his forehead to mine, and after a long moment he murmurs, “Yeah, it ends.”
My heart falls to pieces.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
It’s been two weeks since I last fucked Mack.
Things have gone back to normal—well, as normal as they can be when things are the way they are. He barely says much to me, but he is getting closer to Diesel. There have even been a few days when I’ve gone out and left them alone. Soon, my debt will be paid back, and this will be over for good.
I won’t get to see him every day, even if it is just him muttering a greeting and then leaving. I won’t get to hold Diesel at night. I won’t be a part of the club, and I won’t have its members in my life. That hurts, it hurts more than I ever could have imagined.
Diesel cries from beside me, and I snap back to reality and rock his bouncer. He settles after a minute or two and goes back to sleep. I’m off in my own little world when I hear a thump at the door. I listen for a minute, but no knock comes. I rush over and peer through the window, but there’s no one there.
Probably a stray dog.
I open the door and stare down to see a box on the porch. It’s addressed to me, so without hesitation, I pick it up and bring it inside. I walk to the table, and plop it down before taking a seat and undoing it. I don’t think I was expecting anything, but maybe Mom or Josie sent me something.
I lift the top, and stare. I just stare.
There’s a heap of stuff in this box, but none of it is nice.
With trembling hands, I reach in and lift the note sitting on the top. I open it and read.
Now I have proof you matter.
Now I’ll make him pay.
See how happy she made him? You’ll never compare, but you’re enough.
I’ll have you. I’ll destroy you. Then I’ll destroy him.
Bile rises in my throat as I stare at the contents of the box. The first thing I pull out is a photo of Mack and me. It was the last time we had sex, when we were at the bar. I’m standing, hair disheveled, and his forehead is pressed to mine. It was right before he ended it, but in the picture it looks like he’s completely in love with me. His eyes are on mine, our bodies close. His jeans are still undone, his shirt loose, and we’re just watching each other.
I put the photo down with a gasp, and gather myself.
Then I pull out the next item. It’s a letter. I open it, and what I read has my heart twisting.
Ingri,
I miss you. Every second I’m away, I forget how to breathe.
Not seeing your face everyday is killing me, but know that I’m always with you. I love you so much it burns. There’s not going to be a day in my life that you won’t be everything to me.
I adore you.
And I’ll love you every second I breathe, and beyond.
There will never be another.
Koda.
I hiccup, then I begin to cry, because it’s in that moment I realize I’m fully in love with Mack. I realize it because seeing his letter to another woman has my heart burning in a way I’ll never, ever be able to unfeel.
I don’t swipe my tears, I just lift the letter and drop it to the table, then I go to the next item. It’s a pair of panties that has a note attached. My stomach twists when I read that note.
These are the panties she wore the last time she saw him. She hid them from me, but she left their arousal on them.
I drop them, feeling the bile rise up to a threatening level. Sick. So fucking sick.
My fingers tremble as I pull out the rest of the items. There are a few pictures of Mack and the gorgeous Ingrid. Then there is a box of pregnancy tests. I blink a few times, then turn them over and stare at the note. And I stop breathing.
Soon, soon there’ll be a baby in you that isn’t his. That baby will haunt you for the rest of your life. And his. I’m coming for you, Jaylah.
I cry out, and drop the pregnancy-test box on the table. I push out of my chair, not thinking, just needing to get out of there. I get Diesel, get a bottle, then I run to the car and get in, driving off. I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t even care.
I just need to get away from all of it.
~*~*~*~
MACK
The house is silent. Too silent. I called the boys off two hours ago, because Jaylah wasn’t meant to be home, but she should be by now. She’s not here, and neither are they. Where the fuck would Jaylah go at this time of the night, and with Diesel? I know she’s hurtin’, she’s been avoiding me for weeks and that shit is on me.
I treated her bad, like a piece of cheap pussy, and she’s not that. She’s a fuckin’ beautiful person, and without her I wouldn’t be with my son.
I fucked up and now she’s pulling back.
I walk in and go to drop my keys on the table when I see a box. What the hell is all that? I reach down and lift a piece of paper, and my chest tightens when I see it’s a letter I wrote many years ago to Ingrid.
Dropping it, I dig through the rest of it, and my blood runs cold.
Fuck.
“Jaylah!” I yell, even though I know she isn’t here.
Fuck.
I pull out my phone, dialing her number. She doesn’t answer. Fuck, no, please no. I dial Maddox next, and he answers second ring.
“What?”
“Benito has been back, something was dropped off for Jaylah. It was fucked up, and she ain’t here. Got a sick feelin’ she’s with him, and—”
“She’s here, bro.”
“What?” I growl.
“Showed up a while ago, beside herself.”
“Shit, I’ll be there in ten.”
“Right.”
I hang up, take my keys, and charge out the front door.
I know what that shit would have done to her, and it’s enough to send the poor girl over the edge. I’ve been a fuckin’ bastard to her, and I know, even if I’m strugglin’ to admit it, that seeing that shit and knowing it affected her, hurts me. She’s hurtin’ for me. Everything she does is for me, and I’ve done nothing but push her away when I know, deep in my fuckin’ soul . . .
She matters to me.
A fuckin’ lot.
‘Bout time she found that out.
I’m done with games. I’m done with loose pussy, and I’m done with livin’ like a stone.
Time to change it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
JAYLAH
“You okay?” Santana asks, handing me a glass of soda.
I nod, staring at the wall, not sure what I feel. I know I feel sick, and so disgusted that any person could go to such lengths to make someone pay. Worse is the fact that I’m involved, when all I did was take a position as a nanny, fall for the God damned worst man in the world, and adore the baby that comes with him.
“Leave her be, Tana,” Maddox says softly.