Chapter Twenty-One
Ozzy
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she blurts out. The edge in her voice is enough to put me back on my heels.
“I came here for you.”
“I can see that,” she says, her voice rippling with confusion and anger. “Why are you waiting here?”
“Because you weren’t home when I got here,” I say. “I would’ve called, but I still just got my burner phone, which doesn’t have your number in it. I couldn’t just leave things the way they were between us. I couldn’t let you go through everything alone. Where’ve you been?”
“I was at work,” she says.
I can’t help it. I frown. “You went right back to work? After everything you’ve been through? You should’ve taken some time off.”
She steps in suddenly, and with all the emotions swirling in her beautiful brown eyes, I’m not sure if she’s going to slap me or hug me or what, so I take out from behind my back what I’ve been holding for her: a dozen roses.
“What the holy fuck is this?” she says.
The sight of them shatters whatever calm remained on her face. Tears form and fall from the corners of her eyes, her lips curl, and a ragged sob bursts from her. Even when she’s broken and angry, she’s beautiful enough to scatter my thoughts and take my breath away.
“I thought you liked roses.”
“I do. But, what are you doing? What is this about? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I say what I reckon I should’ve said to her yesterday, what I should’ve reminded her of when her world was falling to pieces on that highway. I failed her then, I let her think she was alone. I’m not going to make that mistake again. “I love you.”
She lets out this exasperated, confused, anguished noise, opens the door to her apartment and starts to slam it shut.
I jam my foot int he doorway and push myself in.
She whirls on me, still holding the flowers, and looks at me with sad, wide eyes. “Why?”
I put my words together carefully. I’m pretty sure she knows why I care about her — she’s interesting, smart as hell, and hot as anyone I’ve ever seen — which means she’s probably asking a different kind of why, a why that isn’t so simple. It’s one of those confusing things women do sometimes.
“You mean why am I here?” I start, and, when she doesn’t interrupt, I keep going. “I don’t know everything that happened in Missoula. I don’t know the full story of what was in those papers, or why you shot David Ardoin. But I do know that I care about you enough that I need to find out why. You’re too important to me to just walk away from. Hell, I don’t think I could ever just walk away from you. No matter what happens, I don’t think I’ll ever feel about someone the same as I feel about you.”
She sits down on her living room couch, rests her face in her hands, and pulls in a shuddering, slow breath. There’s so much pain in her that I can’t keep my distance even though she’s obviously feeling conflicted and confused. I come closer and gently put my hand on her back.
“Ozzy…” she starts, and then her voice fades.
It’s a long time before she talks. But I don’t mind. I know in my heart that she’ll speak when she’s ready and, until then, I’m happy enough just touching her.
“I didn’t tell you about those papers because I was afraid and ashamed. I was afraid that if I told you, people would die. And I was ashamed because you trusted me, and I was failing that trust despite everything I was trying to do to keep the club out of it.”
I kiss her softly on the top of her head.
There’s so much more I want to know. So many pieces I feel like have to be put together before I can understand. But I know I can’t push her. I keep my voice as soft and gentle as I can. “What were you really doing in that van? Why were you there, Maria?”
There’s a quiver in her shoulders — a gentle, suppressed sob. I sit down beside her and put my arm around her shoulders. She leans into my chest and rests her head against me.
“I went to see him at the prison. I offered him everything I had, all of my savings, my retirement, whatever I knew I could borrow from my parents, just to keep you guys out of it. He said he needed more convincing. I knew he wanted to see me beg. I rode with them because I had to. I had to give him what he wanted.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I whisper without even realizing it. The courage this woman has — it’s enough to make my chest swell just for the fact of knowing her. And rips me to pieces seeing the pain that she’s in, the way she’s suffering. That she’s felt she’s had to be alone. “Have you told anyone?”
She turns and looks at me, surprised. “Who can I tell? My co-workers, who will see me as some completely unprofessional psychopath who slept with some outlaw biker and tried to cover up a whole bunch of crimes? Or the club, who will see me as someone who tried to betray them to advance her own career?”
“That’s not true,” I start. “I can’t speak for your co-workers, I don’t know them, but I can tell you that from where I’m standing, you are brave. You risked everything for me, for the club, and you don’t deserve to suffer like this. We’re here for you. I’m here for you.”
She shakes her head. “If I’d been better at my job, we wouldn’t be in this mess. If I hadn’t fucked everything —”
I can’t stand her talking about herself like that. I can’t stand seeing her shovel blame on herself. I press my finger to her lips, quieting her.
“Don’t talk that way about the woman I love. Shit goes sideways sometimes, no matter what we do. But what matters is your intentions — you tried to do what you thought was best, because you care. That’s what fucking matters.”
She kisses me, once, soft and quick, and brown eyes shine at me.
“Thank you,” she says.
A little smile tugs at her mouth. It’s faint, a bare glimmer of light in her dark mood, but it gives me hope. I know she’s hurting inside, but in this moment, she’s so radiant that I can’t resist giving her a gentle kiss.
She returns my kiss. Harder. Hungry.
There’s desperation and tortured need in the way she presses her lips to mine. In the way her hands clutch me, clasping me close to her, in the way her tongue slides into my mouth, in the way she lets out this little gasp — a gasp that says keep going — when my tongue parts her lips, when my hands explore her body.
Keep going.
She reaches out with a delicate hand and grabs my cock through my jeans. I harden instantly at her touch like she’s flipped a switch inside me.
“Take me to bed, Ozzy,” she says.
I shake my head. “I can’t make it that far.”
My lips find their way back to hers. She rises to her feet and throws her arms around me, pressing her body against mine. I can feel her tits against my chest, nipples firm and straining against the fabric of her shirt. Her breath comes in short, desperate gasps.
“Then fuck me here. Fuck me now.”
Every touch from her sets off sparks inside me. Sparks that turn into flames. Flames that grow into a roaring fire.
I need her.
I press her back against the table, laying her flat.
“Now,” I growl.
I seize her pants, ripping them and her panties off her in one pull. Fabric tears and she is bottomless and bare before me.
Fuck, she’s incredible.
I can’t resist, I can’t hold back. I get on my knees and bury my face between her legs. She tastes sweet. My tongue luxuriates in the smooth folds of her, exploring every inch of her pussy. Moans and gasps, fingers clutching at my hair, pulling, clawing, drive me to keep going.
This is what I want. This is what she needs.
She writhes beneath me.
“Ozzy, that feels so good,” she moans.
I suck gently at her clit, pulling it just so.
“Right there. Just like that.”
I hold it steady. I lick her just as she begs for. On and on as the moans grow in volume, as her muscles tighten, as deep inside her I sense the growing swell of ecstasy.
Smooth, pale thighs clamp around my cheeks. She’s close. And I’m going to take her there.
“Fuck, she screams, abs flexing, every part of her tensing to break in sweet release.
The taste of her is so sweet, so intoxicating, I don’t want to stop.
Shaking and twitching with each brush of my tongue, she reaches down and grabs me by the hair and wrenches me to a stop. “Are you trying to fucking kill me?”
I pull back a bit and laugh. There’s a note in her voice that sounds like the Maria I remember. “Sorry, love, can’t help myself.”
She smiles at me and shakes her head. “So are are you going to torture me, or are you going to give me what I want?”
“With pleasure.”
I position myself between her legs, my cock at the waiting entrance of her tight pussy. I enter her slowly, eyes shut, enjoying the overwhelming warm, wet, embrace of her. This gentle gasp comes from her lips and I pause, taking in the moment.
I go slow and, after a time, I open my eyes again. She’s looking back at me, eyes shining bright, lips full and in the shape of something that could be considered a smile.
Bending down, I kiss her. Again and again, the taste of her lips is something I can never get enough of.
“You are so beautiful,” I whisper to her.
She rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to fucking butter me up. Your cock is already inside me.”
“This isn’t some fucking line. I love you.”
Another kiss.
“I love you, too,” she says, wrapping her legs around my back.
We fuck slowly, holding each other. There’s not an inch between us. As good as it feels to be inside her, it feels even better to hold her, to be close to her, and to see her smile. This is a woman better than I could’ve ever dreamed of and there’s no way I’m letting her go.
She could tell me to fuck her harder, to throw her around and make it rough, but there’s no way I’m going to do that this time. I want to remember this. I want her to remember this. And know that, no matter what, I’m here for her.
“I’m close,” I whisper to her.
“I know — I can feel it,” she says. Her legs clamp tighter around my back, pulling me even more into her. She smiles and runs her hand along my cheek. “Let it go, Ozzy. Give it to me.”
I press my lips to hers. Kiss her as deep as I’ve ever kissed anyone. And I let go. Every part of me goes into her, and she holds me there with her legs, with her lips pressed to mine, until the twitching stops. Until I’m finished.
Our lips part. Slowly, she releases her legs and, gently, reluctantly, I pull out of her.
“I love you,” she says. There’s a smile on her face, but a note of sadness in her voice as the ecstasy fades and she comes back to a world where she feels that she’s going to face the problems around her on her own.
I grin back at her, my chest heaving as my body comes back down to earth. “I love you, too.”
I lay down on the couch beside her, emotion washing over my body in waves. Contentment and determination surging through me. One way or another, I’ll convince this woman that she is not alone, that love and loyalty isn’t so easy lost.