Chapter 14

 

 

Michael

uck her. Julia, with her fucking peace and happiness.

My fist lands squarely in the middle of the black leather punching bag I have hanging in the middle of the extra bedroom of my condo.

When I got home from the funeral, I stripped out of the dampened black suit and into a pair of black joggers and went straight to the bag.

Luke, Jax, Dylan, Shriller, and hell, every man I know, are big fans of getting out their aggression this way. And I gotta admit, it helps.

Julia went to the hospital and acted like I was just a troubled young man and she was a concerned friend.

I land a solid right punch.

Fuck her.

How fucking concerned about me were you when I was fourteen and you gave me lessons on how to “bring a woman to the height of ecstasy,” huh, Julia?

My fists pounds into the bag in rapid succession.

Brandon.

Fucking Brandon.

I could have killed him for bringing up that threesome. I was so fucking high that night, I’m surprised I remember it, but I do.

Lucky me, I rarely black out.

And then Dani.

Christ. She felt so much pity for me today that she willingly offered up her body to me on a platter.

A bribe to not use.

I pummel the leather, my arms burning, but I don't care. The pain feels fucking fantastic.

My music is loud, but I still hear the faint sound of the doorbell, and I groan, leaning against the bag, trying to catch my breath.

Who the hell is here to check on me now?

My bet is one of my brothers as I turn the music down and head to my front door, jerking it open.

“Dani?”

Oh shit. I’m not strong enough for this.

She's still wearing the black dress she had on at the funeral, but her hair is down and wet, along with the rest of her, like she's been standing out here in the rain for a while.

“I’m stronger now, too.”

I look up at the dark sky. The sun hasn’t quite set yet, but it’s been storming almost all day. “Come inside.”

I step out of the doorframe as she walks inside, just enough for me to close the door.

“I know you’re strong. That's why you need to go back to your hotel and get on that plane. Forget about me.”

She laughs near hysterically for a moment and shakes her head. “Michael, that’s never going to happen. I can't just forget about you.” She moves closer to me, her cold hand sliding along my cheek. “I’m getting on that plane tomorrow, no matter what. But tonight, I want this. I need to know you’re okay.”

My hand covers the one on my face. “Dani, I’m not okay. That's the point. I can't give you what you need, what you deserve.” Her body slides against mine as I fight not to think about how good it would feel to give in.

Her lips move to my earlobe. “Maybe I miss that magic tongue. Can you give me an orgasm? Because that's all I need tonight.”

Breathe. Just fucking breathe. Get her out of here, and then you can work it out on the punching bag. Her eyes meet mine, holding my gaze. “No. It's not.”

She doesn't flinch. “Well, maybe a way to silence this day a little, also. Lessen some of the pain from the last year.”

Fuck. I think back to the night at the hospital. She told me she loved me, and I was powerless. I knew I had so much to work on. Fuck, I was fresh off my first relapse for god’s sake. I’m not boyfriend material.

I see the determination in her eyes, and I go weak, just like that. A year of being celibate, of promising myself that I would be better, stronger, is just gone. “I can do that.”

Her hand slides around the back of my neck, gripping it tightly, just as mine snakes around her waist, thrusting our lips against each other’s. I feel every single day we were apart in that one kiss, every fucking second of every minute.

We move back toward the living room wall, my hungry body pressed against hers. “Fuck, Dani. I don’t even have protection. Do we need to use something?”

Her head shakes back and forth. Her voice is husky as she answers me, her fingers raking through my hair, “No, as long as you have with others."

Always. I want her so fucking bad, I can't stand it. But I have to try to be somewhat adult. I have to maintain some type of control. “Are you on something?”

She groans, leaning her head back against the wall as my lips rest against the soft skin of her neck. “No. Look, something happened when was younger, and I can't get pregnant. I just can't.” My eyes lift to meet hers, recognizing an agonizing pain deep inside her. “So see, we’re both damaged.”

My throat goes dry, and I swallow. “Want to talk about it?”

Her red lips twist up in a painful smile. “Hell, no. This is already kind of a mood killer.”

“When it comes to you, nothing kills the mood.” I hoist her body up in my arms, trying to respect that she doesn’t want to explain further, and her legs expertly wrap around me as I carry her to my room and toward the bed.

“No. Shower.”

I smile against her lips as I change directions and head into the large, open master bath with a stone-wall shower.

Placing her down on my tile floor, I turn the water on, letting it spill onto the marble floor of the big-ass shower stall. She kicks her heels off, panting with excitement, and I try to keep myself under control.

Take it slow.

I know exactly why she wanted me to go in here. I’ll never forget the day she found me after my first relapse.

I took her in the shower, and she washed away my torment.

She turns around, facing the bathroom mirror. I can see her in the reflection as I move to her, brushing her hair out of the way. My finger trails over her tattoo, and then I reach for her zipper, pulling it down slowly.

My lips find the crook of her neck, trailing light kisses as I slide one strap over her right shoulder, then the other, slipping the dress down, watching in the mirror as her eyes flutter and her head lolls to the side.

Fuck, she's beautiful. She's everything I ever wanted.

I slip the dress over her hips, and it falls to the ground, pooling at her feet. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror.

Her dark purple bra and thong set don’t do much to hide her body, but my eyes stay glued to hers. So intense, so sure.

How does she do that?

She turns to face me. “Tonight, forget about the pain.” She reaches behind her back, releasing her perfect breasts, tossing her bra at me playfully. I let it hit my chest and fall to the floor as I fill the gap between us, pulling her to me by her hips. “Forget about her.”

My lips crash against hers, relinquishing the memories of that wretched bitch, Julia, and relishing in the feeling of my tongue sliding along Dani's, of my body against hers.

Her hands push down my sweats and underwear as we make our way into the shower, letting the water spray over our skin, washing away this fucking day.

I fall to my knees, my fingers sliding under the straps of her now soaking thong. I slide it down as her hands grip my shoulders and she steps out.

I toss the wet material outside and waste no time as I dive into her pussy, devouring her.  I need to hear that fucking growling moan of hers, the one that’s music to my ears because I know she's about to come.

Her fingernails graze my scalp as my tongue flicks her clit, first going slow, but then at a punishing pace, bringing her to the intense orgasm I know she needs.

Her thighs squeeze together, but I use my hands to hold them apart, my fingers digging into her flesh. Her nails claw the skin of my shoulders as she moans my name, her voice raspy and full of emotion and lust.

When her orgasm subsides, I stand and pull her to me. No words need to be said as I slide into her slowly, her back against the wall, her legs wrapped around me.

I slam into her, knowing I’m a weak man.

Knowing full fucking well that no matter how many addictions I overcome, I’ll never be over Dani.