Chapter Seven
Ty
Jas doesn’t answer right away, but she grips her fingers together on her lap, and I have the crazy urge to pull her into my arms and tell her everything’s going to be all right.
Like I tried to that night, after she called me while I was working at Viper’s junkyard, so hysterical I could hardly understand what she was saying. I had to break down the front door to find her in her mom’s bedroom on the floor.
“I don’t know.” Her voice is soft, and she looks at me with those beautiful brown eyes that, despite pretending otherwise, have haunted my nights since the day she left. “It wasn’t just losing the baby. It was…everything.”
Nothing we couldn’t have sorted out. Fuck, I had sorted it out. I just hadn’t told her so before everything went to hell.
I don’t even know why I dragged up the past. It won’t change anything. Except there’s something about that night, something about Jas, that’s always ground into my chest like a rusty spike, and I don’t mean because of the obvious.
Something staring me in the face that I should’ve seen, but could never grasp.
“We were too young.” My voice is gruff. Why did I start this? I don’t want to remember how completely helpless I was that night. How nothing I did or said made any difference because it was already too late before I got there. I’d always looked out for her, protected her, and when she needed me most I couldn’t do a damn thing.
“Maybe.” There’s a wistful note in her voice that tears me up inside. I expected her to agree. “But it didn’t really have anything to do with our ages, did it?”
Up until two days ago, I’d convinced myself that Jas threw everything back in my face and left because she was too young and had never wanted what I offered.
Two fucking days. That’s all it’s taken to challenge the ironclad convictions that have shaped my life for the last ten years.
Except I know I’m lying to myself. Deep down, another truth’s always lurked, and only now, when she’s sitting so close to me, can I face it.
She always tried to hide it from me, but it was my family’s opposition she couldn’t cope with. When she found out she was pregnant, she made me swear not to tell anyone, not until she was ready. She lost the baby before she was ready, and I kept my word. Never even told Zach.
A week later she was on a plane to Florida.
I thread my fingers through hers and tug her hand from her lap. She gives me a half smile, her eyes big and sad, and I can’t take it.
“You’re not seventeen anymore.” I don’t even know why I say that, or what it’s supposed to mean, but she doesn’t call me out on it, almost as if she understands something I don’t.
I kiss her knuckles and the tension seeps from her. After that bloodied night, she never let me touch her again. It was like she thought I expected sex, when all I wanted was to hold her tight and try to make things right again. But she wouldn’t even talk to me and didn’t tell me her plan to go live with her dad until the day before her flight.
I’m not proud of the way I handled that news, but what the fuck did she expect? I was only nineteen, and my whole damn world was falling apart.
The baby was my kid, too.
All I want from her now is sex. Except that’s not true. Even after all this time, I want to fix things between us. It’s more than a few hot fucks so when we split at the end of the week, everything we ever had is finally finished.
I want us to part as friends.
Jesus. Friends with a chick? That’s a new one for me. My brothers would never believe it, and I don’t fucking care that it’s something I’ve never considered before.
Closure.
Now I get what she meant by that.
“I’ve not been seventeen for a long time,” she whispers, and I don’t know why I get the feeling she’s not talking about her age at all. What the fuck else can she mean? And then she trails her fingertips along my jaw, and I don’t care what she’s talking about.
Our kiss is slow, and she tastes of sugar and chocolate, so different than what I’ve gotten used to from the girls who hang around the club. Jas pulls back and tangles her fingers in my hair.
“What’s so funny?” she asks.
“Nothing.” I tug on the belt of her robe but don’t bother trying to hide my grin of satisfaction. “You better be naked under this.”
“As if.”
“You soon will be.”
“I don’t think so.” She’s trying to not laugh, and grasps the top of her robe to keep it from gaping open. “I’m not getting naked while you’re sitting there in your full MC regalia.”
If any other chick said regalia to me, it’d be intended as a compliment. I don’t get that vibe from Jas, which is weird, since she’s the only girl who’d ever dare say anything like that.
“MC regalia?” I loom over her, and she sinks back against the couch, an irresistible smile of challenge on her face. “What’s that supposed to mean? You love my colors.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes, mocking me without remorse, and I’m kind of stunned. “I’m not an impressionable little girl anymore, Ty. Please take off your clothes. As an apology for not turning up last night.”
For a second I’m tempted to call her out on it. Sure, she was only fourteen when we started dating, and maybe she was impressionable. Hell, she thought the sun shone out of my ass, and I loved every second of it. But impressionable little girl and the touch of disdain in her voice rubs me up the wrong way—like she no longer has any respect for the Bastards.
Or for me?
Is that why she left? Did something happen that I don’t know about?
Fuck that. I never overthink shit, and I’m not starting now. I stand in front of her and give her my best let’s fuck smile. “No touching until I’m done. Reckon you can handle that?”
“I’ll sit on my hands if you like.”
I tug my cut over my shoulders in a gross, over-the-top stripper kind of way that makes her laugh. I leer at her before placing my cut on the chair. “No, don’t sit on your hands. I want them where I can see them.”
She gives a theatrical sigh and places her hands on her thighs, fingers spread. “Looking better already.” Admiration heats her words as she runs her gaze over me, and again doubt gnaws through me, wondering what she’s really saying. “It should be illegal for a guy to look that good in a white T-shirt.”
The flicker of unease dies. What’s the matter with me? It was just a throwaway comment that meant nothing, and I flex my muscles and strike a pose like I’m a bodybuilder on show.
“I’m all about the illegal, babe.”
She groans and slings a cushion at me. “Don’t I know it. Are you waiting for me to beg or something?”
“You’re begging me already.”
“And you’re holding out on me.”
I rip the T-shirt over my head. “Feast your eyes on this.”
She licks her lips, and the look on her face reminds me of when she walked into the kitchen yesterday morning, except this time it’s all good. “Your body’s a work of art.”
“Cade’s the best.” Does she remember him? He was an apprentice back then, but still the best tat artist I’ve ever met.
“I’m talking about the canvas.”
Her quick-fire response is unexpected, but I’m sure not complaining. “You wanna see the back view?”
“No, thanks. I’m enjoying this one.”
Most chicks can’t wait to crawl all over my back, dry-humping my ink in some kind of sex-crazed Bastards worship. Jas has never been most chicks, but I guess I expected her to admire my back tat, since she took off before Cade finished it.
“Do you need some help?” She’s on her knees before I know it, unzipping my jeans and pushing them over my hips. “I love when you go commando.”
“Open your mouth,” I growl as I plunge my hands through her gorgeous hair. Instead of obeying, she lets out a huff of laughter, her warm breath teasing my cock. She clasps my ass and tilts her head so she’s looking up at me.
“Okay.” She opens her mouth, still looking at me, and a desperate groan burns my throat.
“You want me to draw you a fucking picture?” I thrust my hips forward, and she pillows my dick with her cheek. It’s not funny, but I give a choked laugh anyway. “You’re pushing your luck here, babe.”
“If you want me to stop, just let me know.” Her fingers play with my ass and thighs, and her face cradles my junk. “Can’t make any promises, though.”
This is crazy. When chicks go down on me, they don’t give me sass. They fill their mouths with my dick, and that’s the way I’ve always liked it.
And this is the best damn non-head I’ve gotten in my life. That’s fucking insane as well, and there’s no reason why she should look so hot and sexy in that plain bathrobe that hides everything, but this is Jas and none of the usual rules ever applied with her.
She doesn’t wait for my response. Not that I’m capable of giving her one that makes sense. Instead she brushes hot little kisses over my groin, her face pushing my dick out of her way, and I couldn’t answer her now if my life depended on it.
Her wet tongue licks along my length, and my fingers tighten in her hair. It’d be so easy to fuck her sweet, sassy mouth. My eyes screw shut, but that’s no good. I want to watch her because, goddamn, seeing her fooling around is better than anything I’ve had for years.
She cups my balls and twirls her finger behind my sac, and I let out a tortured groan. Her lips and tongue drive me crazy, but not once does she come close to sucking me inside her tempting mouth.
I’ll blow my load if she keeps this up. I grit my teeth and haul her to her feet, and the knowing smile on her face tips me right over the edge.
“Get this fucking thing off.” I grab her belt and pull at the robe. All I can think about is bending her over the couch and screwing her until she can’t walk straight.
She rolls her shoulders, and the robe drops to the floor. She’s not naked, but the sexy green top and thong more than make up for it.
“You like?” She plants her hands on her hips and gives a little wiggle. My gaze fastens on the way her nipples poke against the lace, begging to be sucked.
“Yeah.” My voice is hoarse. “You should wear this all the time.” I grasp her wrist and turn her around. Christ. My mouth dries. The lace hugs her waist and shapes the small of her back, giving me a perfect view of her naked ass.
I trace the narrow band of the thong that dips between her butt cheeks, and she shivers and looks over her shoulder at me. “Maybe I will.”
The image of her wearing this for some other guy blazes through me, and I don’t fucking like it. I twist a length of her hair around my fist and graze my jaw against her face. A crazy demand thumps inside my head. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.
Until Friday.
Five more nights. Then it won’t matter, and I won’t care, but right now that doesn’t cool the possessive rage scorching my reason.
I nibble kisses along her jaw and throat, tasting her flesh, and her breathy sighs are all I can hear. She melts into me, her skin warm and soft against my burning cock, and I suck hard, marking her. Mine.
“God, Ty.” Her voice is slurred. “Really…?” It’s a question but she doesn’t expect an answer. So what if I haven’t given hickeys for years. Never wanted to after she left.
I lift her hair higher, exposing the back of her neck, and trail more kisses down her nape and across her shoulders. She shivers and moans, wriggling her ass, and digs her nails into my thighs. I wrap my other arm around her and glide my hand over her hip and waist. Her warm curves blow my mind, but the silk and lace take it to a whole new level. I cup her tit, loving the way she fills my palm, and my thumb plays with her erect nipple. Her head falls back against my shoulder, and her gaze locks with mine.
Her eyes are dark with lust, but I want more. I release her hair and slide my fingers between her thighs and tug her thong aside, teasing her wet pussy and swollen clit until she can’t keep still.
“You want something?” My voice is hoarse, and I dip a finger inside her wet slit. I sure as hell know what I want.
“Yes. You.” She presses her palm against my cock. “Always you…”
There’re so many smart answers to that. I can’t think of one. Don’t want to. All I need is right here. I bend her over the arm of the couch, and her lacy lingerie frames her cute ass as though she’s a sweet candy just for me.
I want to sink into her tight little pussy and bang her until she screams my name. For Christ’s sake. I don’t need her to scream anything, but still the image burns into my mind, shredding my control. Somehow, I drag on protection—not screwing up again—grasp her hips and thrust inside.
Her fingers clutch a cushion, and her hair is a tangled mess spread over her face and down her back. Her cheeks are flushed, her mouth open, and her harsh gasps fill my head.
Need to slow down. But she’s so fucking hot, pinned to the couch. A raw groan sears my throat, and it’s impossible to hold back any longer.
I push my hand under her and find her slick clit. She bucks into me, her back arching, and as she convulses around me, I give her it all.
“Jas.”