Time heals all wounds.

Whoever invented that phrase was full of shit. It absolutely does not heal all wounds. The unopened invitation to my son’s birthday party is fucking proof of that. Mom wants nothing to do with me. I haven’t healed from that. The pain doesn’t go away, it just gets easier to deal with.

Live and let live, Johnny says.

Time won’t heal the fact that he killed my mother’s husband, the president of the Devils MC. It also won’t make the MC forget the bloodbath that followed the botched robbery at the airport.

Yeah, I know all about it. The whole world does.

“Papa!”

Matteo runs on two uncertain, wobbly feet as the door opens, signaling the arrival of his father. The rambunctious toddler attaches himself to Johnny’s leg, and his deep laughter echoes into the kitchen as he stoops down and picks up his son, hoisting him in his arms.

Even after all this shit, I still melt when I see him holding our son.

“Hey, little man.”

“Johnny, it’s time for his nap.”

“Noo!”

A wide grin splits Johnny’s face as Matteo protests. “I’ll put him to bed.”

“Okay.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy as when he first held his son in his arms. Tears of joy swam in his eyes. There’s a bounce in his step that wasn’t there before, and I wonder if it’s because his void is filled.

I walk to the living room and settle on the couch, grateful for a minute of peace and quiet after spending the whole day with Matteo. I lean against the cushions, almost nodding off, and then I feel his presence behind me. Hands suddenly caress my shoulders, and then he walks around to join me.

He pins me against the cushions with his body as his hands light a trail of desire on my skin. They find my neck, and I turn my head, tasting his breath. He kisses me and a rush of heat hits my groin as he slides his tongue across my mouth, and then he pulls back.

“I want another one.”

Another baby?

“Are you crazy?”

“He should have a brother. Or sister.” He leans in and nips my ear. “It’s time to get you knocked up again.”

Why don’t you get knocked up?

At the same time, I can’t deny it doesn’t appeal to me, especially when his lips kiss the vein throbbing on my neck. Even though I’m exhausted, a thrill hits me right between my legs.

“I want another kid, Maya.” He palms my womb again and slides his hand between my panties and jeans, forcing it all the way down. “And you’re going to give it to me.”

Then his finger dips, stroking my wetness.

Fucking hell.

It doesn’t take me long to shed every stitch of clothing, his mouth greedily sucking every available inch of flesh. I cry out, my gasp hitting the air. Then he flips me over the couch and grabs my hips. I feel the heat of his thighs against my ass. Then it slides in, the head pushing my walls apart. He fucks me until I’m gasping for breath, until I think I’m going to collapse from the sheer ecstasy of his cock’s relentless pounding. Then he empties his seed inside me with a huge groan and I come with him, both of us climaxing together.

I want to pass out.

He kisses my back, his chest pulsing, and even when he pulls out he keeps his hand inside me. The thought of actually trying for a baby gives me a thrill I’ve never felt in my life.

“You’re an amazing father—better than I even could’ve hoped for.”

He glows when I say that, unable to contain the wide, ear-to-ear smile. He’s the love of my life—father of my kid.

“Then you’d better get ready. I’m not stopping until that stick turns pink.” He kisses me. “I love you.”

Everything falls into place when he holds me. I know that I’m supposed to be with him. We have each other. And that’s all that matters when you’re in love.

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