BEATRICE
Heat lines ripple over the concrete like waves of water. The strip of sunlight across my shoulder slowly burns my skin, and I shift myself so that I’m covered by the umbrella. Even in the extreme heat, Jack looks cool. He wears a white button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and slacks. His hair looks static in the nonexistent breeze. A tray of breakfast separates us. Jack reaches across the table and holds out his hand. I slip mine into his and he gives me a wink that makes me feel giddy, as though I’ve had a big sip of wine. Every time he looks at me and smiles, I can’t help but feel like a girl with a stupid crush.
A soft jangling sound shatters the peaceful morning, and Jack slips his hand into his slacks to retrieve his cell phone. He frowns at the screen.
“Yeah? Hey, Sal.” He pauses for a moment. “Yeah, it’s nice. One second.” He moves the phone from his face and addresses me. “I have to take this.”
My mood sours as Jack rises from the table and walks away from the table and down the edge of the pool.
I think about that night we talked about the violence in our families. If I get pregnant, I’ll become one of them. But Jack’s brother died at the hands of the mob. His own people. Are we really safe?
The sun disappears and a cloud rolls over my body, chilling me instantly. Suddenly I long for home. Those four concrete walls were confining, but I never felt scared behind them.
A hand curls over my shoulder and I jump in my seat.
“Relax.” Jack pulls up his chair and sits beside me. “There’s some things I have to take care of.”
“What? Why?”
He lifts up his shoulder in a shrug, looking irritated. “John just wants me to check in with some people here.”
I grab his arm. “Doesn’t he know you’re still injured?”
His eyes narrow. “I’m sure he doesn’t give a shit.” His tone softens when he sees the anxiety on my face. “It’s not going to be like that. Don’t worry.”
“Can’t you see that he keeps sending you places that get you hurt?” My voice drops and I feel my cheeks flush.
He laughs. “Sweetheart, if he wanted to kill me he’d just fucking do it.”
I dig my nails into his arm. “Not if he knew the rest of the guys wouldn’t approve. Like your brother.”
Jack’s face darkens and he pulls his arm out from under mine. “Beatrice, you need to relax. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
He stands up and kisses my head, giving me a small smile before he walks away.
Sighing, I sit back into my chair and pick a few more strawberries from the pile on my plate, watching the rippling blue waves of the pool. I decide to walk down the strip on my own to kill time before Jack gets back.
The sun beats down on my neck as I walk across the huge traverses, passing by Caesar’s Palace. I wander in some of the shops, and I stop in my tracks when I see a tattoo parlor.
An idea makes my heart flutter.
Yes.
It’s fucking crazy.
He’ll love it.
I open the glass door to the tattoo parlor, and a redheaded girl with colorful koi fish tattoos spiraling her arms looks up at me with a smile.
“Hi, I’d like a tattoo.”
“Great! What were you looking to do?”
“Something small. Just text. Do you have any availability?”
“Yeah, come in.”
I walk behind the counter, my heart beating faster as I prepare myself to tell her what I want. Just a line of text, really.
She grins wickedly. “I’m assuming Jack is your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.”
It’s not that crazy. Women in the MC do it all the time for their husbands, but it sure as hell isn’t a requirement. My insides boil with excitement. It’s reckless and completely unlike me, but I know I’ll never be with anyone else.
Maybe this is my way of telling him that.
I lie on the bench after rolling down my panties and jeans. The needle slices into the skin in my back, right above where he loves to spank me. I grit my teeth against the pain.
Suck it up. Girls in the MC do this all the damn time.
It only takes about an hour, and then she makes me stand up and gives me a mirror. The elegant script wraps around my hip, dancing right over my cheek.
“He’s going to love it. Thank you so much.”
“No problem!”
She wraps it up and I walk to the front to pay, my skin smarting a little.
“Have a good time tonight!” she calls after me when I leave the store.
“Thanks, I will!”
I dig my phone from my purse and see a few text messages. We’re going out gambling as soon as we get back, and he wants me to dress up.
A slow smile spreads across my face.
* * *
The tattoo fucking burns.
The pain smarts as I lie on the couch, and I fight the urge to get up and look at the sprawling black ink in the bathroom mirror again. Fuck, it looks awesome.
It’s a pretty fucking crazy move to tattoo anyone’s name to your body, isn’t it?
That’s mainstream opinion, but I grew up in the MC, expecting to become someone’s old lady one day. I watched dozens of women get branded with their husband’s name and waited for the day where the same would happen to me.
Jack might not understand it, but this is my way of fusing our cultures together.
A jolt of excitement runs through my body as I hear him fiddling with the door, and I sit bolt upright, tugging my skirt over my knees.
“Beatrice?” he says, his voice echoing in the huge suite. “Are you ready?”
I stand up as his footsteps echo in the living room, his powerful voice sending a shiver down my spine. Then I see him, silhouetted in the doorway.
“I’m here.”
He turns his head and sees me standing there. “Well, come on. We have a VIP game to get to.”
I walk closer to him, studying the way his suit wraps around his body like silk. The dark-blue fabric makes his skin shine, and I think about those powerful muscles—his thick thighs hiding underneath.
Damn, he looks hot in a suit.
My hands reach out, touching his chest. I slide between his jacket and feel the broad muscles, and then I move up to play with his neck. Jack shuts his eyes, sucking in breath. He looks so made up and handsome that I have to taste him. The closer I am, the more powerless I feel, until my mouth falls on his. He kisses me before biting me softly.
“Baby—”
“I just want to show you something first.”
An uncertain smile staggers across his face. “Okay.”
Then I pull the hem of the skirt down until I feel it drag over the raw flesh.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I got a tattoo.”
He lifts the back of my shirt and lets out a choked laugh. “Holy fuck. What does it say—Property of Jack?”
He rips my skirt down and his hand curves around my ass. “So your ass belongs to me?”
I can’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, along with the rest of me.”
He squeezes me. “Jesus.”
“You like it, then?”
Possessive hands dig into my hips and he gives my ass a sharp slap. “You knew damn well I would.”
I feel the evidence pressing against my leg.
“I keep picturing nailing you from behind while this is staring me in the face. Fuck, Beatrice.”
I love the grittiness in his voice when he hauls me upright, his hand still on my ass. The way his eyes gleam sends a thrill into my core, and then he kisses me. His tongue shoves down my throat, and I cling to him. A frustrated growl rocks through my clit.
“I can’t fuck you right now, so I’ll fuck you during the game.”
Wait, what?
“I told you not to tease me.”
“Jack, how are you going to—ah!”
He rips my underwear with one quick jerk. He actually tears them from my thighs and stuffs them in his jacket pocket.
“I’m going to fuck you in front of all those men, and they won’t even know it.”
What?
I try not to laugh at the maniacal grin on Jack’s face and I pull my skirt back up.
“Let’s go.”
He slides an arm around my waist, muttering something under his breath with a throaty growl.
“You little bitch,” he says in a husky voice, bending down to nip my ear. “I’m going to make you pay.”
Whatever.
I’ve no idea what the hell he’s talking about. Jack’s sexual tastes are pretty wild, but I doubt he’d actually fuck me in front of a room filled with people.
We leave the suite and take the elevator down. As soon as the doors close, his mouth is on the top of my breasts, sucking hard.
“Jack!”
My back hits the wall as he pins me there, sucking so hard that he leaves a bright, wet mark behind. He appreciates it for a moment and swipes his thumb across it. The feeling of his tongue on my tits lingers there, pounding between my legs as he watches me with a dark smile.
“That’s just the beginning.”
The elevator doors open and I catch a glimpse of myself, flustered and red, that mark burning on my chest.
Damn it.
I follow him outside, lust raging through my limbs as he takes me through the maze of the casino.
“It’s a high-stakes game. Texas Hold’em.” Jack turns, a wicked grin on his face. “Shouldn’t be more than a couple hours.”
What the hell is he talking about?
I’m distracted by the noise in the casino. God, it’s loud. The constant roar blasts my ears and everywhere there’s something to look at—a bright screen, numbers flashing.
My heart gallops as he takes me through a set of doors leading to a small, stuffy room with a single poker table. Five men already seated at the table look up and smile at Jack, who steps away from me slightly.
“This is my wife, Beatrice. I’m Jack.”
I lean over the large table, shaking hands with an old man whose papery skin pulls into a smile.
They introduce themselves and I forget their names almost instantly.
Did he say he was going to fuck me during the game? Not possible. No way.
But a tinge of lingering doubt makes the smile on my face strained.
He sits down and looks up at me, patting his lap.
Seriously?
“C’mon. Don’t be shy.”
He grabs my wrist and drags me, slipping his arms around my waist. He yanks me backward and I fall over his legs, my face burning as he tugs me against his chest. My pulse thunders in my ears as he adjusts himself. Then his lips singe the flesh on my neck. He kisses me, gentle and sweet. Or it would be if it weren’t for his hand curving around my upper thigh.
Is he fucking serious?
We’re seated at the poker table in close quarters with everyone else. Henry, the investment banker who sits next to us, focuses his gaze on the cards flipping in the dealer’s hand.
Slowly I slide my hand over his and then I dig my nails into his flesh. In response he moves his hand up my skirt and pinches the sensitive flesh around my upper thigh.
I turn my head ever so slightly and hiss through my teeth. “What the hell are you doing?”
“If you don’t sit still and take it like a good girl, you’ll take it like a bad girl upstairs.”
Then he plants another hot kiss on my cheek, and the hand clutches my thigh greedily. It feels good. Too fucking good. He knows exactly how to get a response from me, and his hand keeps inching up my thigh.
Take it like a bad girl upstairs.
What would that be like? I think back to the first time he bent me over his knee. I remember the swift burn and the way I trembled, anticipating the blow. Then pleasure when he smoothed his hand over my skin.
It almost makes me want to defy him, just so that I can experience that raw, passionate energy. Sometimes it feels good to be taken roughly and fucked hard, and the tattoo I got for him seems to have put Jack in a mood. He can’t stop fondling me under the table, and if we weren’t at a table full of other men I’d like to relax in his arms and let him have his way with me.
“Gentlemen, it’s ten thousand to sit down.”
Jesus.
Jack’s hand pauses momentarily as he leans forward and grabs a couple chips from the pile in front of him. I notice that they’re thousand-dollar chips and hold my breath as the dealer reveals the first couple cards. A nine and a two. Jack’s cards are shit. He folds.
A finger gently slides up my thigh. I freeze, and then someone coughs loudly and I jump a little. I feel him exchange something from his other hand, and then a small and hard piece of plastic presses up against my clit.
What the fuck?
His thumb massages the round plastic thing in a circle over my clit as his other fingers slide down, trailing a blaze of fire.
Is he trying to get me off with a fucking chip?
My legs seize as his middle finger slips down a deliciously wet, sensitive area of my pussy. I turn my head to glare at him, but his face is impassive, totally focused on the game.
He slides up and down my pussy as his thumb presses down hard, ramping up the pleasure—the need for something thick to fill me up. My nipples harden into points. He keeps teasing me with the finger, dipping it in and sliding against my clit. Heat builds up right underneath his fingers and my chest feel uncomfortably warm. I wonder what I must look like now. I catch the man across the table looking at me, and I freeze.
“And here’s the river.”
The dealer flips the last card and two men show their hands. The orthopedic surgeon smiles as he reaches forward, gathering the chips. The loser sinks back into his chair with a small curse.
I squeeze my legs together as his finger slides between my slick walls. An electrical current suddenly hits my clit, singeing up my spine to burrow in my heart. I open my mouth and utter a small gasp.
Shit.
Their heads turn toward me as Jack moves slightly and gives me another kiss in a show of affection that doesn’t quite match the embarrassment of being fingered under a fucking table in front of everyone. Luckily they take my gasp for excitement over the game. The man next to us turns his head as Jack slowly pumps his finger in and out. I feel every edge of him entering me. Heat rises up my neck and I clench my thighs together, but I remember his warning.
Take it like a good girl.
I relax my legs.
“So are you guys on vacation?” the man next to us asks conversationally.
His finger anchors hard inside me and I feel my juices slipping around him. Jesus Christ, how am I supposed to keep myself together?
“Actually, we’re on our honeymoon.”
His voice rumbles through my back as he keeps fucking me, rubbing hard with that thousand-dollar chip. I can barely think of anything but how good it fucking feels. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe he’s getting me this hot with a goddamn poker chip. I want more—I want him. Finally I hold his arm, stilling his movements under the table.
“Oh, congratulations!”
“Thanks.” I manage a weak smile.
“Not a lot of guys bring their wives to these big games.” The dealer looks up from the cards at me.
“I put everything on my business card,” the orthopedic surgeon chimes in.
They look at us curiously, but I don’t really fucking care at this point. His thumb vigorously rubs the chip over my nub, and I’m trying to keep my mouth shut. I’m also trying not to turn around and grab his fucking tie to scream at him to stop fingering me.
But I don’t want him to stop. I want it faster.
“Sounds like your wives carry your balls in their purses.”
The table erupts with laughter, and I seize up as another finger sinks into my wet pussy. Holy fuck. I just can’t. Every sensation hits me hard. Even Jack’s soft laughter blowing over my neck. I think of sex. I think of him sinking his teeth into me as he ruts me deep. His tongue making hot circles around my nipple. Sucking. Biting.
“Ass.”
“At least my wife knows who’s boss. Right, sweetheart?”
He takes my chin in his hands and my cheeks flame as his fingers pump inside me, his eyes full of laughter.
Son of a bitch.
I have a mind to grab his cock in front of all the men, but instead I take his tie and yank his head to me. The guys hoot and cheer as I seal my lips against his. Electricity sparks over my skin as he kisses me back and then I slide my tongue inside his mouth.
I don’t care how tacky this looks. Payback.
He pulls back, his face a little red as he bares his teeth in a grimace and ruthlessly shoves his fingers inside me.
“Jesus. Take that to the hotel room!”
The room erupts with a smattering of nervous laughter, and some of the guys stare at Jack with open jealousy.
Jack plays a few more games and I get more and more flustered. Fuck, I’m sitting on his goddamn lap and I can feel his dick riding against my ass. He curves his fingers inside me as I grip his arm and slide my fingers over his rocking hand. I trace his knuckles and feel myself clench over him. His thumb moves aggressively, and I bite my lip hard. I’m going to fucking come. I’m going to—
My body shifts as he leans forward and slides all of his chips toward the center. My body shudders as another finger joins, spreading me open.
“I’m all in.”
The men at the table miss the hint of laughter in his voice, but the irony doesn’t escape me, not when I’m seconds away from coming. A shudder runs up my leg.
No, not now—please!
I can’t even hiss an insult because the room is too quiet. Cards fly from the dealer’s hand and Jack takes a sip of his whiskey. Then he twists his hand, pinching my clit with the poker chip as he curves upward. My breath hitches and I bite down my lip. I clench over his fingers and he continues to thrust mercilessly, and I can’t help myself. I can’t fight the tide of pleasure. A moan shudders from my lips.
It breaks the tension in the room like the crack of a bowling ball on wood. They look at me with raised eyebrows and mild shock, until Jack withdraws his hand from my skirt, wiping himself on my thighs.
“It’s a lot of money,” I manage to choke out.
Jack seizes the excuse, chuckling slightly. “I told you not to worry about it.”
The waves of pleasure cascade over me, weakening my muscles so that I can barely hold myself upright. He slides an arm around my waist and the men return to their game as I try to breathe slow, deep breaths.
“Ah, shit.”
I don’t even notice that the dealer flipped the last card and that the game is over. The orthopedic surgeon leans across the table and laughs as he rakes in the chips, and Jack makes an elegant shrug. His legs move and we stand up from the table.
“I guess that’s it.”
I gape at the pile of chips he lost. There’s probably thirty grand in there, but it rolls off his shoulders like it’s nothing. I feel his heat simmering behind me like a wall of fire, and his hand clenches over my upper arm.
“Nice game.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Jack pushes against my side and nearly yanks me from the room. We’re thrust into the chaos of the casino as my heart jackknifes in my chest. He pulls me close and I hit the center of his chest as he gives me a smoldering look.
“There’s more where that came from, babe.”
“Jack, you’re insane.”
His face lights up with wild laughter as he runs his hands down my body, right over the swell of my ass. “I need to claim my property—now.”
My core tightens. “Let’s go back.”
“I said I wanted you now.”
What?
“Jack, we’re in a casino.”
“The first time we fucked, it was in a VIP room.” He presses his lips against my ear, and my body heats up instantly.
“Yeah, but there are cameras all over the place.”
He searches the floor, his hunger almost manic. Then he points to a darkened balcony overlooking the casino. It’s a restaurant with a big sign indicating that it’s under renovations.
“I’m going to fuck you right on that balcony.”
The moment he says the word, fuck, a tingling sensation spreads over my skin and I know I won’t be able to deny him. I’ve never been able to.
He drags me up the stairs, past the curtained-off rope, and into the darkened, open area. The seats are shoved to the walls and a brass railing gleams over the casino. We’re not that high up. A loud noise could attract their attention and they’d just have to look up.
My back hits his chest as he spreads his palm over my stomach and yanks me. “Now I want you to grab ahold of that railing. Don’t let go no matter what.”
Trembling with excitement, I bend over and grasp the railing as his hands move up my thighs. Cool air hits my skin as he folds the skirt over my back. He grabs the raw flesh where I got inked and thumbs his name.
“Property of Jack… You’re damn right you are.”
I choke out a yell as a stinging blow lands on my ass. He fingers gouge my flesh, taking a handful of me as he lets out a throaty growl.
“You knew when I saw the tattoo I’d go fucking crazy.”
With his other hand he rips my shirt down, the straps falling from my arms as he exposes my tits to the entire casino. He pulls the fabric so that it rests underneath and makes them bulge.
Then he slaps my inner thigh and I spread my legs, wondering how the fuck he convinced me to do this. It’s really only fifteen or twenty feet from the group. Close enough to see the gleam of the dealer’s earrings.
“Jack, they’re going to hear us!”
“Then you better keep quiet.”
SLAP!
Another swift blow lands on my ass, stinging the raw tattoo. I bite my lip as the burn spreads to my other cheek. My arms tremble as he spanks me, the sound cracking through the air. It’s so loud that I think I see a few of the guests turning around for the source of the sound, and then his hand rips across my tattoo and a painful moan shakes from my mouth.
His hardness digs into my ass as he leans into me, wrapping his arms around my legs greedily. A line of pleasure runs down my spine to the hot glow in my pussy.
“You feel how goddamn hard I am?”
“Yeah.”
I want to feel that thickness—want to wrap my fingers around him and own that part of him, but I know my orders.
Don’t let go no matter what.
My nipples harden into studs as his body slides up behind me. He moves his leg between mine and his muscles flex, pushing them farther apart. Blood churns under the very surface of my skin. I’m completely exposed, tits hanging out of my shirt for everyone to see.
His pants drop and then I feel the heat of his cock flat against my ass. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned-on in my life. Seeing my name right there—Jesus Christ, I can’t—”
His growl reverberates through my body as he grabs a handful of me and squeezes.
“Jack, please. Let’s get this over with.”
“Get this over with?” he explodes. “Excuse me?”
Oh shit.
“You think I’m just here to get my dick wet, don’t you?”
“No—”
“I’m more than just a load in your cunt. I’m your fucking husband.”
The brand with his name explodes with pain again, and I cry out. I swear to God, I see some of the heads lifts below us.
“I—I know that. Please—”
“Then shut up and don’t rush me. I’ll take my sweet time claiming you. It’s my right.”
I start to protest, and then he slips his thick cock in between my aching lips. It slides forward and his throbbing head pokes out between my legs. Jesus Christ. Below us a throng of people scream with excitement at the craps table and the noise sends a thrill through me.
He reaches around my hips and grabs himself, making sure he rides my pussy hard. Hot air blows over my neck, and then his teeth sink into my flesh briefly. “Just for that I’m going to take it slow. I’m going to make you scream for my cum.”
Laughter shakes out of me. There’s no way I’m screaming for anything when the casino is this quiet.
Then he pulls back his cock and massages his hand over my mound, dipping a finger inside my wetness. The shock runs through me as Jack’s heavy breathing billows over my ear. He spreads me open with two fingers and my walls contract hard. The juice slides around his hand as he fucks me even though his cock is right there. It’s right there!
“Please, Jack.”
His chuckles cascade over my ears. “That’s not nearly enough, sweetheart. You know what I want.”
He wants the casino to echo with my screams. He wants security dashing up the staircase. He wants to feel like I can’t live without him. I know I can’t.
God. His fingers crash against a bed of nerves that shoot straight to my heart, making it fly. Again. And again.
“I’m going to come.”
He slides out of me immediately, his tongue drawing a circle on my neck. “Good girl.”
Both hands seize my tits, groping me in front of the entire casino as his laughter muffles in my hair. “You know you’re not supposed to come without my permission.”
My pussy tingles as he grabs my nipple and digs his fingernail into me. “Tell me you’re fucking mine.”
“I’m yours, Jack.”
I’ve never been more aware of that than at this moment, half-naked, getting fingered above a casino.
My gasp hits the air as he slaps my tit.
“Not good enough.”
He keeps sliding his dick along my clit, and it’s like liquid heat rubbing against me, scratching an itch. I need the whole fucking length of him, throbbing inside me, like I need air.
“Give me your fucking cum!”
He bursts with laughter as my voice rings out clearly. There’s no mistaking it. Several patrons turn their heads at the sound as Jack shakes behind me. I’m about to scream again, but he moves his cock ever so slightly. It rests right at my opening. His cock nudges me with an involuntary twitch and I let out a moan.
Then he spears into me, his thick cock filling me completely. He jerks my hips back and my moan rips through the air. His hand curls around my hair and pulls my head back, and then he brings his fingers to my face, still wet with my juice. I open my mouth as he slides them between my lips, and then I’m free to make all the noise I want against his palm.
“You little slut. You live for my cum, don’t you?” His voice sounds strange, almost strangled.
I scream into his hand, the sound muffled as quick thrusts make me buckle against the railing.
“Tell me how much you want it.”
The wonderful fullness disappears for a moment and my core clenches madly, missing him. I beg for more in his hand, and his pressure returns. He spreads me open, cock buried to the hilt. He pulses inside me, filling that deep ache.
“You feel that? That’s me owning your pussy.”
I push back against him. I want to fucking grind his cock, but he backs away from me.
“No, no, no,” he chimes.
Another vicious slap burns my tattoo and he holds my hip with his other hand, giving me a few, quick, hard fucks. I’ve never been fucked so hard in my life. I can barely brace myself against the railing, and then he pulls out. I cry out as he slips his hand from my mouth and buries it in my hair.
His lips crush mine suddenly and a rush of emotion hits me. I want him. I love him—he pulls back, seething.
“You want a baby?”
“Yes.”
“You need to swallow first. There’s more where that came from.”
Jesus Christ.
I buckle to my knees as he pushes me down, still fisting my hair. His cock, slick with my pussy, bounces in my face. I grab him and swallow his head. He’s so wide that my jaw hurts. Jack sucks in his breath when I force myself to take him all the way. His dick jumps inside my mouth, adding kerosene to the fire burning between my legs. My tongue sticks out, touching the very base of his cock.
“Fuck.”
I pull back, feeling his heartbeat pound through my lips as my tongue swirls around his head. The fist at the back of my head yanks me forward. I choke on his thickness as he ruts my mouth, the sounds of his groans pounding through me like the dick fucking my mouth. Then he tears at the roots of my hair, digging his fingers into my scalp.
Then his cock twitches in my mouth and salty liquid explodes at the back of my mouth. He holds my face there, my nose crushed against his abdomen.
“Oh shit.”
I swallow his cum down my throat, feeling more spurts coat my mouth as he pumps inside me, and then he pulls out, still hard. How the fuck is he still hard?
His hands clasp my arms and pull me upright so roughly that I fall against his chest. Then suddenly my arms fly to the railing again and he places a hand on my back, forcing me to bend. A pressure builds right behind my pulsing ache, and then he sinks right inside me like butter. Jack grabs both my hips and yanks me back using his hips like a fucking battering ram. His cock digs into me like a piston. Holy fuck. I’ve never been fucked like this before.
I cry out, but the breath is knocked out of me through the force of his thrusts. My arms buckle and collapse as he digs against me and pulls back. The agony and ecstasy reach a crescendo and I bite my arm. The wet sound of his hips slapping against me, his hands on my hips, his cock digging inside me—it’s too fucking much. My throat tears with a scream as Jack makes a loud groan, holding me close as he comes for a second time. I clench over him as my body shakes from all the energy released. His cock pulses, swelling, and then I feel the jet of cum coating my pussy. I envision it seeping into my womb and striking a single egg. I glow at the thought of getting pregnant—and then finally getting to hold our baby in my arms. I want it with him. Only him.
He wraps a hand around my neck and pulls me upright, his dick still throbbing inside me. His lips find the spot right behind my ear and he whispers my name in a sigh that makes my skin flush with pleasure.
A pair of footsteps hurriedly making their way up the staircase startles us both.
“Fuck.”
He yanks down my blouse and skirt, and then he shoves his feet through his slacks, pulling them over his waist. I flatten my hair and clench my thighs together, feeling the slow trickle inside me.
Two men in security uniforms reach the staircase. “Sir, this is a restricted area.” One of them eyes our disheveled appearances and a frown deepens his sour face. “We’re going to have to ask you to leave the casino.”
Oh Jesus Christ.
“I just dropped thirty grand in your casino.”
The guard stands in front of Jack, nostrils flaring. “Inappropriate behavior will not be tolerated—”
Jack stops him with a smirk as he slides his belt back on. Then he reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a couple hundred-dollar bills, tucking them in their shirt pockets.
I grab my purse and join Jack, stepping around the dumbfounded security guards as he loops his arm around my waist. He twists his head around and gives them a wink as we head downstairs. There’s a crowd of people standing at the bottom of the staircase. A group of men erupt into cheers and slap Jack’s back as he descends the stairs.
“Nice, man!”
“We enjoyed the show!”
I don’t think my face could get any hotter than it is now. They actually saw us fucking. Oh my God.
Jack couldn’t care less about the attention. He gives them a sarcastic wave and wheels me through the doors, where the cheers and laughter are finally drowned out.
“I’m so embarrassed, I could fucking die.”
Jack lets out a bark of laughter. “Babe, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
He links his hand through mine and gives me a quick kiss on my cheek. It’s very fast, but his eyes linger, full of warmth. A sad smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Mike loved this place. We’d go together all the time.”
Darkness clouds his face as my heart clenches painfully. The secret burns inside me like caustic acid. I want to tell him. I do, but then I think of my parents. Jack’s wrath would rage through the MC, burning everyone alive in its path.
Jack’s brow furrows as he walks down the street in silence, his fingers burning through my blouse.
* * *
The guilt builds. It banks into a fucking forest fire, consuming every spare thought. I’m so sick of myself that I can barely stand to look in the mirror. Weeks of waiting for him to come home and feeling my heart jump when he pulls me in for a kiss. Endless nights of being shattered in bed, clinging to his back, and forgetting my own name. Weeks of waiting for that goddamn stick to turn into two pink lines. So that I can finally tell him, and not feel like my guts are rotting inside out.
The door crashes open. It’s past midnight—I can never sleep while he’s out. A painful groan hits the air as Jack stumbles into the foyer, supported by one of Johnny’s soldiers.
Oh my God.
His arm is in some sort of sling, but his feet drag behind him. The soldier, Ben, helps him to the couch.
“Jesus. What happened?”
Their chorus of, “Nothing,” hits my ears, but I’m in no fucking mood to accept that. Not again.
“What happened?”
“He just got in a bit of trouble at a job.”
“Again?”
I can’t fucking believe this.
“Thanks, Ben.” Jack glowers as he sinks into the couch cushions.
“What the fuck happened?”
He winces at the shrill sound of my voice, and Ben scurries out of sight. The front door shuts quietly and Jack snaps at me. “You know I can’t talk about my work.”
It’s like an explosion. “Are you fucking serious? Is this how our conversations are going to go for the rest of our lives? I expect a fucking answer when you come home looking like this.”
My emotions feel out of control, like a simmering pot of oil. It takes very little to set me off lately, and I don’t know whether it’s the stress of trying for a baby, his constant injuries, or the fact that I’m carrying something awful inside me.
His eyes widen at me, but my temper flares again.
“Johnny keeps sending you out on these dangerous jobs. I can’t stand it!”
Suddenly his hand shoots out and he grabs my wrist, yanking me so that my face is inches from his. “You’re way out of line, Beatrice. I can’t fucking talk about it. That’s for your sake as well as mine.”
Doesn’t he understand that seeing him like this hurts me? I can’t stand seeing him injured. My eyes rapidly burn and flood over. It’s Johnny’s fault—I know it is. He hates Jack, and this is his way of punishing him.
He sighs, adopting a softer tone. “Stop crying, Beatrice. I’m fine.”
I try to hold it in for his sake. A wave of self-loathing consumes me and I collapse into his chest, pressing my head against his wildly thumping heart. He touches his lips to my head and rubs my shoulder. It feels good, but my nerves are still jangling out of control.
“I couldn’t drive home because of the painkillers they gave me. That’s all.”
I rip myself from him, agony twisting my guts when he gives me a wounded look.
“What the hell is the matter with you lately?”
Everything.
“I wasn’t out on business. This was personal.”
A swooping sensation gives me a sudden sick feeling. “Your brother?”
He gives me a sharp look. “Yes.”
“And?”
He aims a violent kick at the coffee table leg. “And nothing! I’ve got fucking nothing!”
For a moment fear freezes my chest. Then he crumples with despair, holding his face in his hands. I suddenly wish I were the one being beaten up.
I run my hands through his hair, trying not to drown in the well of guilt.