“Kirill said everything was good,” MadDog states from his position at the front of the long table.
Church. Not the place I want to be right now. I’d much rather be buried inside of my wife’s sweet cunt. However, it’s mandatory, and I’m here. Seeing as I missed so many of them when I was locked up, I need as much catch up as I can get, anyway. It’s just too bad Genny is refusing to leave the house so she won’t be waiting for me when it’s over.
“Good,” I lift my chin.
“There are some issues they’re havin’ in New York—their business, not ours. However, he wants some trusted brothers on standby if they’re needed. Figured I can count on my guys here and some of Fury’s men in Idaho for sure to fly on over,” he states. Every man in the room nods.
The Russian’s have had our back on more than one occasion, so it’s a fair trade. The deal has been working smoothly for a few years now. Kirill seems solid enough, so if he needs help, I’ll fully volunteer my services.
“Soar can’t leave state lines, so we can’t have him on the rotation for at least two years traveling to Denver. But he’s our man to load at the docks. We’re using the Humboldt docks permanently now. I want Soar, Torch, Mammoth and Camo handling the dock work between the four of them for a while. All their Old Ladies are knocked up, and Soar’s stuck here,” he announces. “The rest of the men I’ll be making a new schedule for today, and I’ll post it on my office window.”
“Any other business?” he asks, looking around.
“Any news on the Aryans?” Texas asks.
“Nothin’ new to report, really. Seems like we’ve hit a dead end. We’re lucky to have found the women and children that we did. Unless problems arise, I say we let those fuckers stay hidden in their bunkers. I have a feeling that without Drifter feeding them information anymore, their well will dry up completely.”
I sit up before I speak, “What about those highway patrol cops that were up in my shit?”
MadDog shakes his head. “We got nothin’ on that, brother. Hopefully with Graham being put down that’ll be the end of it.” He lifts his chin before he turns to the rest of the group. “With nothin’ else, what do you all think about allowing the prospect, Joel, to patch-in? Ready to vote?” MadDog questions.
We all grunt, and then we each state our verdict. I don’t know the guy well, but I’m not allowed to be a neutral party. I am just like every man in this room, a complete patched member.
Nobody votes no, so it’s easy for me to cast a positive vote as well. MadDog throws down his gavel and adjourns the meeting, but before we leave the room, he sends Grease out to get the punk ass little fuck.
Once Joel is brought in, MadDog tells him his fate, and I swear I see the kid tear up before he gives us the brightest, widest smile I’ve ever seen.
“You’re blinding me with those pearly whites,” I jokingly shout.
“Blinder. That’s fuckin’ it,” MadDog yells.
“My dad’s a dentist. I get free zoom whitening,” he shrugs with a chuckle.
“Well, Blinder, better keep at it. You have a road name now to uphold,” I say as I walk past him and clap him on the shoulder.
“Patch-in party tomorrow night,” MadDog yells as the other men congratulate Blinder and follow behind me out of the room.
I walk up to the bar and lean my forearms against it as I signal to the prospect tending that I need a drink. He hands me a beer, and I lift my chin in thanks. I’m only one pull in when I feel a set of tits press against my forearm. I look down at my arm and then into the eyes of the girl I fucked when I first got out of prison. The little bitch that made Imogen cry in the grocery store.
“Destini,” she says sweetly.
“Help you?” I ask.
“Wondered if you were ready for another round? I know your woman’s been out of commission, so I thought I’d offer up my services,” she says, pouting her lips to give me a bit of a show.
I don’t have to even think to know my answer. Nothing about her, not even her puffy lips, are worth hurting my wife again. I’ve done that shit enough.
Making her promises to stay sober, stay faithful, and be the man she needs me to be is my main focus. I’ve had enough strange to last me a lifetime. In the end, it didn’t make me feel half as good as seeing my wife smile up at me, love and trust shining in her eyes.
“Got an Old Lady, out of commission or not, doesn’t matter,” I shrug.
For the first time ever, I truly feel that way deep in my bones. I’ve never felt it before. I’ve said it, and maybe I’ve meant it, but felt it? Fuck no, not like I do right now.
“I’m not like the others. I can keep quiet, Soar. I know you like to play a little. I still remember how you felt inside of me. Nobody would have to know,” she whispers.
I laugh. It’s a full-on belly laugh, and I should feel super shitty for it because this girl is young. She’s young and fuckin’ dumb. I’ve already told her no before, and she’s offering herself up for another form of rejection. Christ, how stupid can you be.
“I highly doubt you remember what my dick felt like, babe. You’ve had so much cock in your snatch since then, I don’t see how you could,” I laugh, shaking my head. “I know without a doubt I could fuck you and my wife wouldn’t find out. That’s not the point. The point is, I don’t want to fuck you. You’re young and you have a hot little body, but soon enough, you’ll be gone and nobody here will care. Not me, not anyone. You keep hounding me after I’ve told you no repeatedly, you’ll be out on your ass soon.”
I turn away, abandoning my beer and walk toward the door. I don’t need to fuck whores, I don’t need to party it up, not without Imogen. And maybe in a few months both of us will feel okay with me being down here without her; but right now, to me, it doesn’t feel right. I need some more time, some more time with her, some more time with my sobriety, and some more time being free.
“You okay, brother?” Torch asks as soon as I step outside.
“Turned down an offer from Destini,” I state, shoving my hands in my pocket.
“Hard to do?” he asks.
Shaking my head, I know it wasn’t hard. In fact, it was easy—too fucking easy. And that shit makes me feel shitter than anything else. Turning her down was so goddamn easy that I should have been doing it this whole fucking time.
Torch interrupts me mid-thought, “Lot’s goin’ on in that head of yours, I’m sure. It’s different, being free and being sober all at the same time, plus dealing with feelings and the consequences of your actions when you were fucked in the head. It’s a fuck’ve a lot to deal with. Add to that what Imogen just went through,” he says, not looking at me, but instead up at the stars that fill the sky.
“No fucking shit,” I say, letting out a puff of air from my lungs.
“You’re handling everything really well. Really fuckin’ well. Got to be honest, we’re all kind of watching and waiting for your breakdown,” he states. I shake my head once.
“Me too,” I admit.
“Really fuckin’ proud of you, Soar. I didn’t know you well before you went in, but I gotta say you’re a standup brother, a good man, and I’m proud we’re on the same team.”
“Thanks. I just, fuck,” I say, lifting my hand to rub at the back of my neck. “I’m too old for this shit. Do you know how much I missed by being a fucking douchebag for so long?” I ask angrily.
“Yeah, brother. I do,” Torch states. I cut my eyes over to him.
He knows because he stayed away from his wife, suffering from PTSD for years, abandoning her, thinking it was better for her that he stayed gone. Maybe at the time it was. Maybe I should have done the same thing. A more selfless man, like him, probably would.
I’m selfish, though—born and fucking raised to be a selfish fucking prick. I kept Imogen just at arm’s length, continuing to hurt her repeatedly over the years. Hurting her so fucking badly and being too goddamn high and too fucking stubborn to change—for her, for me, or for us.
“Imogen is thirty-five. She wants a baby, and I never wanted them. She wants a whole fucking house full, but I never gave that to her. How do I make up for that?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.
“Cleo’s thirty-five and she’s about to have a baby,” Torch states. “Genny wants a kid, you give that to her. Now. Not later, but now. Make the second part of her life worth the pain you put her through for the first half,” he says.
“I swore I would,” I admit.
“Then come through.”
I think about his words. Then I admit the truth, something I hate to say aloud. I say it anyway. “I’m scared I’ll relapse. I’m scared I’ll get blitzed and fuck whores, and she’ll be at home with my kid and I’ll go right back to that routine. Except I’ll have ruined a kid’s life—I’ll have turned into my goddamn father.”
“Don’t let that happen,” he shrugs as he takes a step away from me and turns to go inside. As though it’s that fucking simple.
“How?”
“Be fucking better, Soar. Be better for her, be better for your kid; but most importantly, be better for you.”
Torch walks back inside, and I let out an exhale before I start to walk toward my bike. Be better for Imogen, for our kids, and for me. I don’t know if I can hack this shit, if I can really be better. I want to try.
Just as I straddle my bike, my phone rings from my pocket and I pull it out to answer it. Kip’s name flashes on the screen, and I grin. Be better for Kippy, too, I think right before I click accept.
Turning off the television, I decide to turn on my eReader to see if there’s a book I haven’t read yet. I need something to keep me company, and to keep my mind off of exactly where Sloane is tonight. He’s down at the club for Church. He asked me to go with him, a first, really, and I probably should have just taken him up on his offer; but I’m not ready for anyone down there to see me, yet—especially not the whores.
The swelling in my face has gone down quite a bit, but it’s not gone. It’s also a million different shades of blue and purple mixed with brown and yellow. In other words, it’s a hot fucking mess.
No way in hell am I going to let those skinny bitch whores see me like this. Especially that one that came up to me in the grocery store. Next time I see that little bitch, I’m going to look like a ten, not a puffy disaster.
“Sunshine,” a voice calls out. My spine straightens in surprise. Glancing down at my clock, I notice it’s not even midnight yet. “Hey, you’re up.”
“I am,” I say with a shaky smile.
“You all right, baby?” Sloane asks as he shrugs his cut off before he places it on the bench at the foot of our bed.
“I didn’t expect you home so soon,” I state. Honestly, I didn’t expect him home at all.
He grins, shaking his head. “Didn’t feel much like partying. I was missing my woman.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, cocking my head to the side in wonder.
Sloane Soar McKinley Huntington III never misses a party, not unless there’s a damn good reason.
“Not the same anymore. I’m sober and,” he pauses as he takes his shirt off before shoving his jeans down his legs.
I watch as he toes out of his boots and then he’s on the bed, removing his socks before he pulls his jeans the rest of the way off. He crawls up next to me. “I missed my Old Lady. I missed you. All I could think was that you were here cooped up alone.”
“Is that all?” I ask.
“Honesty?”
I nod and wait for his answer, bracing myself for whatever it is that he’s going to throw my way.
“I’m so scared of completely fucking up, sunshine. One hit, one drop of X, one line, and I’m back in the joint,” he murmurs before he turns to me and pulls me into his arms. “One whore, and I’ll hurt you, probably lose you forever. I’d die without you, baby, and I’m so scared of ruining everything we’ve got going for us right now.”
Closing my eyes, I think about his words, about his fears. He’s right. One night with a whore, and I’m gone, for good this time. There will be no sweet words to bring me back. No matter how much I love him, I just can’t let myself be that pathetic person anymore, letting him make me feel completely worthless.
“Sloane,” I whimper.
He rolls on top of me, his lips brushing mine so gently that it sends chills over my body. Then he just stares into my eyes, his hips between my thighs, his elbows holding his body up on either side of my head. His green eyes bore into mine with an intensity that I’ve never felt before.
“I love you, Imogen. The last thing I want to do is hurt you again. I think I’ve hurt you enough to last for ten lifetimes. You get honesty from me, and that’s me being honest. I’m scared, sunshine.”
I nod at his words. I’m scared, too—terrified.
“I’m scared, but we’re going to work, baby. You and me,” he murmurs before pressing his lips to mine again.
His tongue slides out to taste my lips, and I moan as he slips further into my mouth. I can feel the firm length of his erection pressing against my center, and I throw back my head on a cry.
We haven’t had sex since my accident, but he’s brought me pleasure on more than one occasion. It’s just not enough. I want to feel him inside of me, taking, owning, pleasuring me like only his cock can do.
“I want you to ride me, Imogen,” he rasps against my neck as he kisses his way down to my collar bone. His tongue tastes my skin and I let out a long groan.
“My face,” I whisper.
“Is fucking gorgeous. I can’t be on top, sunshine. I’ll hurt your ribs,” he mutters against my skin.
I nod, completely unbelieving of his kind words about my face. He rolls onto his back and I watch as he yanks off his boxer briefs. I quickly remove my sleep shorts and tank set, trying not to think about the bruises on my face or on my stomach and sides as I straddle his hips.
Sloane’s hands slide from my knees to the outside of my thighs, the sides of my waist and up to cup my breasts. I let out a shuttered breath as he pinches my nipples and tweaks them slightly.
“You still on your birth control?” he asks. My entire body freezes.
“My what?” I whisper in surprise.
“Your birth control, whatever the fuck you take, you still on it?” he murmurs, his eyes zeroed in on his fingers playing with my nipples.
“I, uh,” I sigh as I close my eyes, relishing how good it feels when he touches me. “It’s a pill. I take it every morning.”
“Throw that shit in the trash, Imogen.”
“Sloane,” I whisper.
“Sink down on my hard cock, sunshine. No more birth control. No more waiting. We’re making a baby. We’re living this life to the fullest. That shit starts now,” he announces.
“What about your fears? Everything you just said?” I ask in confusion.
He grins and tugs on both of my nipples before he slides his hands down to my waist, giving me a gentle squeeze.
“I’m scared. But, baby, I’m going to be scared about slipping tomorrow and every day after for the rest of my life. Especially since the damage I would inflict wouldn’t only be on me but on you, too. There’s no guarantees, but if we sit around scared to death, we’ll never live. You won’t have your babies, and I won’t have a wife that smiles so bright she blinds me like the goddamn sun. So, no more pills, sunshine.”
“I want you to be sure. This isn’t something you can take back or change your mind on,” I warn.
“Almost forty years old, baby. I think it’s about time I stop thinking about myself all the time and start working on making your dreams come true, don’t you?” he asks. He tucks a bit of fallen hair behind my ear, careful not to hurt my face.
“Sloane,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes. “I want you to be happy, too, and you don’t want them.”
“Promised you babies, sunshine. I’m delivering that promise to you. Told you that I didn’t want them because of fear, not because I couldn’t love them. You’re going to be a beautiful mama, and I’m going to be their roughneck daddy. Now climb up on this dick, Imogen,” he growls.
I do as he asks and sink down on his hard length, sighing when I’m fully seated down around him. I look into his eyes, and he only smirks at me before he gently bucks up, causing me to gasp slightly.
“Ride me nice and slow, baby,” he murmurs.
Leaning back, my fingers gripping his thighs, I do as he demands. I ride my man slow, with purpose, and with complete delight. Every roll of my hips sends shivers up my spine. When his thumb presses against my clit, I let out a moan of appreciation.
“You’re going to make me come too fast,” I whimper.
“You don’t get there, sunshine, and it’ll be over,” he murmurs. “The sight of you enjoying yourself the way you are, your tits swaying with each move you make; goddamn, I’m on edge, baby.”
I smirk as I continue to move in a way that is apparently keeping him on edge. Except, with the added pressure of his thumb against my clit, I find myself in the same predicament. I shudder and cry out as I come all around him.
My pussy pulses, and he thrusts up inside of me a few times before he lets out a groan of his own. With heavy breaths, I look down at Sloane. His blond hair is messy, but his eyes are bright and his smile is wide.
“Love you, Imogen,” he murmurs. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“I’m a disaster,” I whisper as he gently rolls us over so that we’re on our sides facing each other. I lose his length from inside of me, and I miss him already.
“No matter what, Genny, you’ve always been stunning. Swear to fuck, sunshine, no matter what,” he rasps before his lips press against mine.
“Get some sleep, baby.”
I close my eyes and do as he asks.
Sleep finds me almost immediately.