“You nearly put me away. If it wasn’t for my fuckin’ connections, I’d be in jail.”

  “I know that! I can’t keep telling you I’m sorry. I can’t live forever trying to make you see that I fucked up, that you were the best thing in my life and I let you walk away.”

  His body stiffens, and he begins breathing heavily again. “I heard you, the night of that party all those years ago. I fuckin’ heard you tell Cheyenne she could have me.”

  “I know you did,” I whisper.

  “I was fuckin’ gutted. You know, as hot as your sister was, I never had any fuckin’ intention of bein’ with her. I wanted one thing, and that was you. I tried, I showed it to you all the fuckin’ time and you couldn’t see it. Then that night, you basically shoved me toward her, and I realized you didn’t want me. I was waiting for nothin’, so I went with her. I fell in love with her, I was happy with her, but she was never fuckin’ you, Ciara. Not even close.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? All those years, and you didn’t say anything.”

  His eyes flare, and then soften. “Same goes, Ciara. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I swallow. He’s right. We were both idiots.

  “We had a great friendship. I was scared if you didn’t feel the same that I would ruin it.”

  He grunts, shaking his head slowly. “Yeah, well, same here.”

  I rub my arms. They’re tingling, and my body feels like it might explode with emotion. “I made a mistake, Spike. The day I stood in that courtroom, I made a mistake. I’m sorry,” I pause to take a deep, steady breath. “I know you can’t forgive me, but I’m sorry all the same.”

  His eyes soften completely, and for a long moment we just stare at each other. “I’m sorry too, for fuckin’ you the way I did. Never did it right, and I should have. I should have laid you down and made you feel as beautiful as I know you fuckin’ are. You deserved better than what I gave you.”

  My lip trembles again, and his gaze softens even more. A glimpse of my Danny shows in his face, and I know we’ve finally cracked through the wall that has built up so thick between us.

  “I don’t want to hate you anymore, I don’t want to fight anymore, I don’t want any of this between us anymore...” I whisper.

  “Yeah,” he rasps. “Me either.”

  “Can we move on?”

  He moves forward until he reaches me. He grips my face and leans down, pressing his lips softly against mine. “Yeah, Tom Cat, we can.”

  “What is it exactly we’re doing here?” I dare to ask as he moves his lips down my neck.

  “We’re lettin’ life take us where life is gonna take us, and this time, we’re not gonna fuckin’ fight it.”

  That sounds fine by me.

  Just perfect.

  CHAPTER 11

  PAST - CIARA

  “She’s gone, Ciara, and she’s never coming back. It doesn’t matter what you want right now!” my mother yells, her eyes puffy from crying.

  My sister has been gone for six weeks, and we’ve been through hell and back, fighting to get Danny put away. My heart has been ripped out, stomped on, rolled in the dirt, and ground into a thousand pieces during the last few months, and now my parents are refusing to acknowledge my life. They’re grieving, I get that, but they aren’t even trying to let me move on and find my own life. I wanted help with college, but they are refusing to give me money, blaming me entirely for Cheyenne’s death. It’s my fault that she’s gone, because I was the one who befriended Danny. I ran away, instead of fighting to keep them apart like I should have.

  “I can’t keep living like this, Mom. I need a life. I need to get into school and try to create something that resembles some kind of normality.”

  “Cheyenne is dead!” she cries. “Dead, because of you and that idiot biker. Now I have to live without her. I can never hold her babies. That was my grandchild inside of her, and now he or she is dead, too. I don’t care about your studies, Ciara. You have the chance to do whatever you want, Cheyenne doesn’t. So go and do it!”

  It hurts when your own mother has lost her love for you. It hurts because it’s something that can’t be changed. I was always second to Cheyenne, but now it’s just like I’m in her way.

  My father doesn’t speak to me. He just lives in his office. I’m tired of feeling like this all the time. They hate me, and they aren’t going to help me get to where I need to go. This one, I’m going to have to do on my own. I turn to my mother, and meet her puffy gaze. She sniffles, and swipes her fingers under her nose.

  “I’m tired of this. It’s clear to me you couldn’t care less about what happens to me, so I’m going to leave. I’ll go and find my own way, because I’m tired of living in Cheyenne’s shadow, when she’s not even alive.”

  My mother stands and slaps me so hard I see stars. I grip my cheek, fighting back the hurt and anger.

  “How dare you? You always were jealous of her! I can’t believe you would speak about her like that. She loved you, and this is how you honor her memory?”

  “She loved herself!” I scream. “She didn’t love me, and neither do you.”

  “Don’t be so stupid. I do love you, but I’m not going to coddle you and make you feel better about something that is your doing.”

  “How is it my doing?” I cry, trembling. “She threw herself at Danny, it was her choice!”

  “I don’t believe that for a second! Not a second! She fell in love with a lie, and got herself trapped. She wanted out. She didn’t want to be there. She told me so. She just couldn’t leave because he got her pregnant.”

  “You are so naive!” I screech. “She wanted to be there. She wanted his body over hers, every night. She wanted his baby. She wanted him!”

  “You shut your mouth,” she hisses. “That is your sister you’re talking about.”

  “And she’s dead!” I scream so loudly I scare myself. “She’s dead, and she’s not coming back. It’s not my fault. She was the one who opened her filthy legs for Danny, and she was the one who made sure he married her. She made her own choices!”

  She slaps me again. Now tears are thundering down her cheeks. “You always were so selfish, Ciara. Get out of my house.”

  “Gladly,” I spit.

  I turn on my heel, and with shaky legs I walk to my room. I pack what little things I own, and ring a cab. As I’m walking down the hall, I stop at Cheyenne’s door and peer into her old room. My heart hurts for my sister, because she didn’t deserved to die. I’ll always love her deep down in my soul, but I can’t help that I will always hate her, too. She knew what she was doing, every step of the way, and she made a point of shoving my face in it. Now she’s gone, and no one wants to hear of it. My parents hate me. Danny hates me. My world has turned upside down, and for what? For befriending someone who changed everyone’s lives. I peer around the room one last time, and before I leave, I whisper one, simple sentence and I mean it. Oh, I mean it.

  “Fuck you, Cheyenne.”

  ~*~*~*~*~

  PRESENT - CIARA

  I giggle and twirl, letting my hair flow around me. Spike is sitting on my bed, watching me with an amused expression. I’m still tipsy, and having a great time. Spike has been drinking with me for the last hour and we’ve both stop caring about anything else but this moment.

  “You need to stop drinkin’, yeah?” Spike grins.

  “Later, babe.”

  He chuckles. “Since when do you call me babe?”

  “Since now.”

  He wraps his fingers around the top of the bottle, and begins a gentle stroking, running his finger around the tip. I lick my lips and stop dancing, suddenly getting the urge to forget the drinking and make use of the hot biker sitting in front of me fucking my bottle with his fingers. God, I want those fingers inside me, deep and hard. I shudder, and Spike’s gaze grows lazy.

  “Somethin’ you wanna say, baby?”

  I drop to my knees, and begin crawling toward him, full of determination. I stop in front of
him, lifting my hands and placing them on his jean clad legs. I shove gently, spreading his thighs until I can shuffle between them. He makes a growling sound and looks down at me, his dark eyes hooded.

  “What’re you doin’, Tom Cat?”

  “Something I’ve so desperately wanted to do...” I husk, gripping his belt and unbuckling it.

  “Baby, don’t wanna just fuck you and make you think that’s all I’m here for...”

  “But Spike,” I purr, looking up at him. “I wanna be fucked.”

  “Fuck, Ciara,” he rasps. “You’re makin’ my cock hard.”

  Oh God. My pussy clenches so hard I have to rub my thighs together to stop myself from exploding with need. Spike reaches down, gripping either side of my face with his big, heavy hands. I peer up at him, still running my fingers over the buckle of his belt.

  “Tell me what it is you want to do...”

  I lick my lips, and look him dead in the eye. “I want to take your spikes out.”

  His chest rumbles, and he reaches around, running his thumb over my bottom lip. “Fuck yeah, Tom Cat.”

  “I’ve always wanted to...tell me how...”

  “Baby,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Just use them fuckin’ pretty lips, and own it.”

  I’ll own it all right - I’ll nail it. I tug at his jeans, popping the top button. He moves his hips, and allows me to pull them down his legs. I grip his boots when I reach them, and pull them off before removing his jeans completely.

  When I look back up, I see he’s not wearing anything else under his jeans. From this angle, I can see every piercing in his cock. I let my eyes linger over the line of them running up the inside of his length. Each one has a tiny spike on the end, but when he’s hard and pulsing like this...it just looks, well, dangerous. The one right though the head has bigger spikes, and God, I want to run my tongue all over it.

  I raise myself up, wrapping my hand around his cock and gently squeezing. He hisses and cups my face, gripping me with just enough pressure to turn me on. I lean down, swiping my tongue over the large spike in the tip. Spike groans, deep and throaty, as I work my tongue around it, tracing the sharp tip and teasing him until he’s panting above me. Then I close my teeth over it, and nip it. It pops off, leaving just the rounded end of the barbell. I drop the spike into my hand, and continue working my tongue down his length, biting and tugging, pulling and jerking until he’s growling so loudly his body trembles. When I reach the last of the spikes, I nip it off and drop it into my hand, before lowering my mouth and sliding my tongue out and over his balls.

  “Fuck, Ciara, baby...I wanna come.”

  Hearing him pretty much beg makes me want to tease him even more. So, I do. I run my tongue over his balls, up and down his cock, and over his head until he’s growling and tangling his fists in my hair, tugging my mouth toward him. Before I know what’s happening, he leans down and scoops me up. In ten seconds flat, my back is pressed against the wall and he’s crushed against me. I reach out, dropping the spikes on the table beside me, before reaching up and tangling my fingers into his hair, bringing his lips down over mine. God, he tastes so fucking divine. Like Spike mixed with the warm, but intense flavor of vodka. Our tongues slide together, and his cock presses hard against my belly.

  “Goin’ to fuck you now baby, hard...fuckin’ hard. You ready?”

  “Yes,” I rasp against his lips. “Fuck, yes.”

  He grips my shorts, jerking them down angrily. I shuffle out of them, kicking them to the side. He grips my panties, tearing them off. I giggle and bite his earlobe, which earns me a growl so sexy I find it hard to hold myself back. Spike reaches around, gripping my ass and pulling me to him, forcing me to grind against his erection. Oh god, the feeling of that hard length pressing up and down against my slick heat...it’s incredible.

  “Think I can make you come like this, baby?”

  “Yes,” I hoarsely whisper. “God, Spike...”

  “What do you fuckin’ call me in here?”

  “Danny,” I cry out as he rubs and rubs, sliding that perfect piercing over my clit.

  “Yeah,” he growls. “Fuck, yeah.”

  I come, and it’s so powerful I take skin off the shoulder I’m clenching onto. He gives me a deep, throaty growl, and I give him one deep, intense scream as I convulse without him even putting his cock inside me.

  I’m still rattling from my orgasm when he grips my leg, bringing it up and around his hip. Then he’s pressing against me, fuck, he’s right there...stretching, filling, making that orgasm drag out longer. He pushes inside me, deep. We both hiss at each other, like two feral cats. His hand is on my ass, using it to drive his thrusts. My fingers are in his hair, tugging harshly, pulling with desperate need. Our lips keep clashing, blending together in desperate, hungry kisses.

  “So fuckin’ sweet,” Spike rasps in my ear. “Wanna stay buried in you forever.”

  I’m so close, my body is wound up so tight that I can feel every, deep, long thrust. I can feel myself tightening around him. God, I’m so close.

  Spike reaches between us, and he flicks my clit. Literally, flicks it. The pain combined with the pleasure sends me over the edge and I scream, fuck do I scream. I come so hard my body shakes around him. He quickens his pace, and our skin slaps together, loudly. His cock swells inside me and I feel it beginning to pulse.

  “Shit,” he bellows, clutching my ass so hard I have no doubt he’ll leave bruises.

  He drags his cock in and out until he’s wrung every, last drop from his body. I let my body relax, panting with pure relief. I drop my head onto his chest, inhaling the scent of him combined with the leather of his jacket. I’ll never forget that smell. It’s perfect.

  He grips the back of my head, cupping me with his hand. We stay like that for a long moment, and I feel his nose in my hair, breathing me in. This moment, it’s incredible. It’s mind-blowing. It’s real. It’s quite possibly the most real moment we’ve ever had.

  “Gotta shower now, babe.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble.

  He reaches down, gripping my other leg and lifting me so I’m straddling him. Then he carries me toward the bathroom.

  I nestle my nose into his neck and just breathe. We reach the shower, and he puts me down. Sulking, I pout at him. He flashes me a super grin, then begins taking his clothes off...well...only the top half, considering he isn’t wearing pants.

  I watch with a lazy smile as he slides his shirt up and over his head. I stare at his massive, tattooed body and sigh. I could look at him forever, and never get bored. He’s just so beautiful. I grip the last of my clothes, dragging them over my head until we’re both standing in front of each other, fully naked.

  I turn, stepping into the shower, and turning it on. The warm water sprays over my body, and I groan. Spike steps in behind me and wraps his arms around my middle, pressing his hard chest against my back. I groan, dropping my head back into his chest and just standing there, enjoying every second.

  He runs his fingers up and down my belly, and I reach down, tangling mine in his. He lets me hold his hand for a while, before he lets go and reaches down, gripping the soap, and pumping some into his hand. He rubs it over my body, causing little whimpers to escape me. He finds my ass, and grips it again, spinning me and pulling me toward him.

  “You’re an ass man,” I murmur into his chest.

  “Babe, I fuckin’ love your ass.”

  “Oh?”

  “Always have.”

  “Really?” I say, licking his nipple.

  He shudders and grips my hair, tugging my head back so I’m looking up at him. “Stop lickin’ my nipple, my cock is gettin’ hard again.”

  “Maybe I want it to,” I grin, grinding myself against him.

  “When did you get so...adventurous?”

  “When I lost the man I loved because I wasn’t adventurous enough...”

  His eyes fill with guilt, and a little anger. “Yeah, well, past is past.”

 
“Yeah, but the past defines who we are in the future...”

  He grins. “So smart.”

  “I can’t help it, it’s the good breeding.”

  He snorts, and I narrow my eyes.

  “What?” I say, stepping back. “Are you saying I don’t have good breeding?”

  “Babe,” he says, stepping closer and pulling me back to him. “I know you’ve got good fuckin’ breeding. I also know that you’re the only one that got the brains.”

  “Cheyenne was smart...” I dare to say.

  “Cheyenne used her looks to get what she wanted, don’t take brains to do that.”

  “Yeah,” I say, quietly. “I guess.”

  “No more talkin’ about that shit, ain’t no point.”

  I swallow and nod. Part of me will always be jealous that my sister got him first; how can I not be? What I just experienced then, she probably experienced many times over. The thought puts a crushing pain in my heart, and I struggle to keep my breath steady. I’m jealous of my dead sister, and I don’t know if I can ever take that away. She had what I wanted, and the only reason I have it now is because she’s gone. If she didn’t die...

  “Fuckin’ stop it,” Spike growls.

  I look up at him. “What?”

  “Thinkin’. I can see it, babe. I know what you’re thinkin’.”

  “No,” I whisper. “You don’t.”

  “You’re thinkin’ that I’ve been here with Cheyenne before. You’re thinkin’ that I fucked her the way I just fucked you. You’re thinkin’ you’re always goin’ to be second...”

  I flinch, answering him without even opening my mouth. He snorts. “Let me tell you somethin’, and listen close ‘cause I will not be fuckin’ sayin’ this to you every fuckin’ day. If you can’t deal with my past, and what went down, then you walk away.

  “As for Cheyenne, what I had with her was very different. Cheyenne didn’t fuck, she made love. Cheyenne didn’t share a shower, ‘cause she liked her own space and was in love with herself. There ain’t no comparison, and there never will be. I’m not sayin’ I didn’t love her. She was my wife, she was growin’ my baby, I fuckin’ loved her, but the emotion I feel with you was never there with her. You make my fuckin’ heart hurt. You make my body so fuckin’ wound up with need it aches. You make my fuckin’ days bright, and not one of those fuckin’ days has passed that you haven’t been in my head. Might have had her first, might have fuckin’ loved her first, but you’re the one who ends this with me.”