Chapter Thirty-Five
Veronica
My head is lying on Van’s chest while he holds me close. We have been in bed more than an hour, neither of us saying a word. In fact, he has barely said a word since he came home from getting rid of his mom’s body. I have no idea what he did with it, and I have no plans to ever ask him. I can go to my grave without ever knowing that information.
“Are you all right?” I ask, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
The question is stupid. There is no damn way he is all right. Not only did he take someone’s life, but that someone was his mother. There is not one fucking thing all right about that, but what else am I supposed to say at a time like this?
“I saw her standing there in front of you, holding a gun in her hand, and I couldn’t fucking believe it,” he says in a voice only a shade louder than a whisper. “Then, I heard the shit she was saying and just snapped.”
I don’t want to think of everything she said. Just thinking about everything makes me want to be sick again. Van told Dad everything, even the shit about Brass, but he didn’t tell anyone else. Without words, he let me know not to ever mention anything she said. If Brass ever wants to tell anyone what she did, that’s up to him. It’s not any of our places to say shit. I just hope that I will be able to look at him without pity in my eyes.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, running my fingers over the ink on his chest. “You did what you had to do to protect me.”
Kendra never truly threatened me, unless you consider the gun in her hand. She never approached me, never threatened to shoot me, never even really pointed the gun at me. I’m not sure if she would have killed me. If anything, I think she may have killed herself. She was a broken woman. Van may have killed her, but he also put her out of her misery.
“I don’t feel like I did anything wrong. Don’t feel much of anything really.” He goes quiet for a minute or two then asks, “Am I supposed to feel something? Aren’t I supposed to feel bad, sad, some fucking thing other than relieved she’s not gonna be in my life anymore.”
I remember the numb feeling I felt after my mother died. I was weighted down with such guilt for not being sad that it damn near killed me. For months, I was sure something was wrong with me. I finally realized that my guilt was misplaced. We can’t control our emotions, no matter how much we want to.
“I’m not the one to ask because I didn’t even cry when Mom died. I didn’t feel anything. I felt sad that she died so young, but nothing more,” I say, knowing he will understand. “I really tried to feel some sort of grief, but it just wasn’t there.”
Van’s arms tighten around me as he says, “Well, aren’t we just a pair? Maybe, if our mothers weren’t so shitty, they’d deserve a little sympathy.”
“True,” I mumble as I sling my leg over his. “They never cared about us when they were alive, so it’s fitting we don’t care now that they’re dead.”
As I say the words, I realize just how true they are. My mom didn’t give a shit about me when she was here on this earth. I was nothing more than a weight around her neck, one she wanted to shed. Kendra was the same, using Van as her meal ticket with my father but never giving him even an ounce of love. Neither of them earned our sympathy.
He runs his hand down my back, resting it just above my ass. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you.”
I go up on my elbow, wanting to look into his beautiful blue eyes. “You didn’t lose me, Van. You’re never going to lose me.”
He may not have talked much since getting home, but his eyes followed my every mood. He touched me, kissed me, held me close. It was like he was afraid I was going to disappear. I gave him that, needing it as much as he did.
“Prove it,” he orders, moving his hand to my head and forcing my lips toward his. “Remind me that we’re both still breathing.”
I know what he wants because I want it, too. I’m just not sure that is what either of us needs. A shrink would probably tell us to talk about our feelings, not to smother away the pain with sex. Then again, my man is a biker. He’s a different breed of man—a man that always knows what he wants and does what he has to do to get it.
I brush my lips over his and whisper, “I can do that.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when he rolls me over and jerks my nighty over my head. My panties go right before he tugs off his boxers. He settles between my legs, bringing his lips back to mine. He kisses me softly, showing me a tenderness I have never experienced before. Our tongues slide against each other as his hands run down my body.
His lips leave mine, traveling slowly down my body. He pulls one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking it deep. I gasp at the pleasure filling my body. His mouth moves to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. Each time his teeth scrape against the tight peaks, I let out another moan.
He slowly moves further down my body, trailing kisses all the way to my pubic bone. He glides his fingertips over my pussy, paying close attention to my clit. Finally, he sinks a finger deep inside me. At the same time, his mouth latches onto my clit, and he gives it a gentle nip. The sensation has my hips coming off the bed and a whimper pouring from my lips.
“I love tasting you, baby. You’re so sweet and tangy, fucking delicious,” he growls against my clit, sending a shiver up my spine.
My hands go to his head and hold it in place. I want to say something, tell him how good this feels, but I can’t seem to make my mouth form the words. My mind is so consumed with the pleasure I am feeling, it’s all I can do to even breathe.
He continues to glide his fingers in and out as he sucks on my clit. With each second that passes, I’m getting closer and closer to the edge. As much as I want to let go, let him take me to the pinnacle, I need him inside me. I want to come around his cock. I want him to feel what he does to me.
I pull on his head, wanting his eyes on mine. “I want you inside me, Van. I need you inside of me tonight.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” he says with a smile, still stroking his fingers inside me. “I’m gonna be inside you before this night is over.”
“But, I need you now,” I beg, feeling tears pool in my eyes. “I need to feel connected to you. I want you to feel connected to me.”
I’m not sure what is wrong with me. It could be from watching the light leave Kendra’s eyes. It might be the fact the man I love had to kill his own mother. Maybe, it was talking about my mom. All I do know is I need Van to make it all better.
Seeming to understand, he immediately moves back up my body. “Anything you need, Ronni. I will always give you anything you need.”
He kisses me as he joins our bodies, going to the root and staying there for a minute. Slowly, he starts to move in and out of me. He continues to move, going as deep as possible with each thrust. The repeated friction causes my walls to ripple with ecstasy. I move my hips in time with his, wanting him even deeper.
His thrusts are powerful but gentle at the same time. Each time he fills me, I feel as if we are connected in a way that means we can never be torn apart. I hold on to that feeling as my orgasm rushes through me. I keep holding on to it as my body convulses, while wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me.
Wanting to give him all of me, I scream, “I love you.”
He slams deep once more as he groans out the words I long to hear. “I fucking love you, too.”