I took a seat on the park bench and watched the children play. Two mothers sat on another bench across the playground, smiling and laughing while keeping their eyes on their kids.
I was lost.
I was at a crossroads, and I had no idea which direction I should go.
Though I appreciated the Old Ladies’ perspective on club life and their honesty about the club dealings with a cartel, I balked at the idea of completely embracing it.
I had feelings for Slash, feelings that were deepening every day, but I didn’t know how I was supposed to justify it.
I had an idea of what Jazz and Brielle would say if I talked to them about any of this, but I couldn’t talk to them because they weren’t part of the club.
Was I a damn fool for considering a life with Slash? For building something together when real danger lurked around every corner?
The cartel was no joke.
A boy, who looked to be about six, fell off the monkey bars. He landed on his back when he hit the ground. A moment later, his wail filled the air.
His mother rushed to him, scooped him up and immediately tried to soothe him. He quieted quickly—no doubt the shock of the fall had been worse than the pain of it.
That will be me soon. Drying my child’s tears, kissing scraped knees and elbows, telling bedtime stories. I wanted Slash there when that happened. I wanted him in the picture. But if I wanted Slash, I’d have to take the club and all that came with it.
I hadn’t meant to get pregnant, and I’d been fully committed to raising the baby on my own. But I no longer had to. I supposed Slash and I could co-parent and choose not to be in a relationship, but then he’d still be in my life, and the baby’s life. I wouldn’t keep him away from his child.
In or out.
I had to choose.
Love or fear?
The bed dipped, and I felt a warm body sidle up behind me. Lips caressed my neck as a hand wormed its way underneath my T-shirt. Callused fingers teased my nipple into a tight bud.
“Slash,” I whispered, wiggling my bottom against him.
“I’m home, baby. Missed you.”
He ceased paying attention to my nipple and his hand drifted lower, dipping into my panties.
I let out a low moan as he slid a finger between my folds.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, his voice husky.
Nodding, I rolled over onto my back.
Slash pulled my panties down, so there was nothing between us. It was dark and I couldn’t see, which only heightened my awareness.
I spread my legs, greedy for what he could give me.
He worked a finger into me, pumping slowly.
“Need,” I gasped as pleasure sparked between my thighs.
“Need what?”
“Need more,” I begged.
“How about this.” He added another finger. “God, woman. You’re so fucking wet.”
My back arched as he picked up speed, until I clenched around him, coming all over his fingers.
“Yeah, baby. Just like that,” he whispered.
He removed his hand from between my legs. Slash painted my lips with my release, and I licked his fingers.
“Do you want my mouth or my cock?” he asked.
“Both,” I groaned. “I want both.”
“My woman is greedy.”
I felt him move until he was farther down on the bed. He wrenched my legs apart and then his head was between my thighs.
His tongue was magic.
And it had been too long since we’d been together.
It was only a few strokes before I was coming again.
I quivered and cried out, and when I stilled, he kissed the inside of my thigh. His stubble sent another shockwave of pleasure through me.
“I need to be inside you,” he growled.
“Yes,” I breathed.
He glided up my body and I welcomed him home. His lips claimed mine and I tasted myself on his tongue. I wanted all of it. Wanted all of him.
Slash pounded into me, relentless, determined, like he was trying to become a part of me.
I scored his back with my nails, and he sucked on my neck hard enough to cause pain. His hands slid beneath and cupped my bottom as he drilled into me. He ground his pelvis into me, and another orgasm was torn from my body, as if I had no control over it.
All I wanted was this, and him, and the all-consuming desire he unleashed inside me.
“Brooklyn,” he rumbled, grasping the back of my neck as he slammed into me one final time.
He collapsed onto my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him, never wanting to let him go.
“I don’t like it when you’re gone,” I whispered, my lips brushing his damp hair. “But I sure do like it when you come home.”
He let out a low laugh and rolled off me.
“Did you shower?” I asked.
“Yeah. Didn’t want to come to you smelling like the road.”
“I didn’t even hear you come in, let alone shower.” I cuddled against him. “You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.”
“Rode hard. Wanted to get home to you.”
He reached his hand out and settled it on my stomach.
“What time is it?”
“Four.”
“Hmm. Are you hungry? I could make you something.”
“I’m good.” His thumb lazily stroked my skin.
“Slash?”
“Hmm?”
“I know about the cartel.”
His movement stilled and then a moment later he sat up. “Lamp’s coming on.”
Light flared through the room.
I hungrily took him in. His jaw was covered in a few days’ worth of salt-and-pepper stubble. Exhaustion lined his eyes, and he looked like he’d gotten a bit of sun.
“When did you find out?” he asked slowly.
“Couple of days ago. When I was with the Old Ladies.”
He nodded slowly and then he got up.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Getting you a washcloth.”
I watched him stalk away, his naked backside on complete display. The art of his ink was beautiful.
The sound of running water filtered to my ears and then he was back, holding a washcloth. He urged my legs apart and then slowly cleaned me.
“Are you—you’re not upset, are you?” I asked.
“You were going to find out eventually,” he said, taking the damp washcloth and tossing it into the plastic laundry basket in the corner. “I was going to tell you even if they didn’t.”
“When?”
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “When we had the conversation about how I made my money.”
“Oh.” I looked up at the ceiling.
“I’m surprised you kept it to yourself this long,” he said.
“What was I going to do? Have that conversation with you over the phone?”
He paused. “You didn’t bail.”
“No. I didn’t bail.”
“Why not? You could’ve taken your shit and gone back to the bakery.”
His hazel gaze glittered, and it looked as though he wasn’t even breathing.
I couldn’t run anymore. I couldn’t run from the truth or my feelings or the fact that I was following my heart instead of my head.
My hand caressed his cheek, my thumb stroking across his whiskers. “Because I’m in love with you. And I want a life with you, club stuff and all.”
He turned his head and kissed my palm. And then he turned off the light and tucked me into his side.
I fell asleep waiting for him to say it in return.
I woke up a few hours later. I slid out of bed, hoping not to disturb Slash with my bout of morning sickness. He slept through my vomiting, thankfully.
As I closed the bedroom door, I thought about what I’d said to him the night before—and the fact that he hadn’t said it back. I tried not to let extreme vulnerability and doubt creep in. Slash was a rough biker. I couldn’t expect him to verbally express sappy emotion, even though he was clearly taking care of me.
Still, it would’ve been nice to hear the words reciprocated… Unless that meant he didn’t feel the same way I did. I swallowed at that thought, not liking the idea that I could be in love with Slash and have his baby, but that he may not be in love with me.
While he slept, I gathered the ingredients for a hearty breakfast. I pulled out a cookie sheet and turned on the oven. I placed an entire pound of bacon onto the cookie sheet and then chopped scallions into tiny pieces. When the oven beeped to let me know it was preheated, I put the bacon onto the top rack and set the timer. I finished prepping to cook the eggs when the bacon was done, and then took a few minutes to enjoy a cup of tea.
After a while, the bedroom door opened, and Slash sauntered out in nothing but a pair of boxers.
“What are you doing awake?” I demanded, wondering if I had enough courage to ask why he hadn’t told me he loved me.
His sleepy eyes grazed down my body from my T-shirt to the tops of my thighs. My legs were completely bare. He took the mixing bowl from my hands and set it aside.
“Turn around,” he rasped.
The command in his voice had me trembling. I didn’t care if it made me weak that I wasn’t insisting on a discussion right that moment.
“Turn around, Brooklyn,” he said again.
I turned.
“Place your hands on the counter.”
When I’d done his bidding, he inched my underwear down to my ankles.
“Step out of them and spread your legs. Wider. Yes.”
He dropped to his knees and palmed my cheeks. His thumbs dipped into my crease and stretched me open.
I jumped.
“Easy.” His tongue licked my folds and my breath hitched. “You like that?”
“Hmmm.”
“God, I want to—”
The doorbell rang and we both froze.
“Who the fuck is here?” Slash growled.
I came crashing back into my body. “Shit. I totally forgot that I invited Willa to come over.”
Slash dropped his hands from my body and stood. “We’re not done.”
Damn right we aren’t done. We have shit to talk about.
I whirled, my eyes dipping down his body, staring at the bulge in his boxers. I shoved him in the direction of the bedroom and then leaned down to scoop up my discarded panties.
The doorbell rang again, and I called out. “Be there in a second!”
I ran to the bedroom and quickly pulled on a pair of sweats.
“Might want to add a sweater,” Slash said with a wink and then he sauntered toward the bathroom.
“Why would I—”
Hard nipples.
I threw on a purple cardigan and tromped out to the living room. I opened the door just as the timer beeped.
“Hold on!” I told Willa as I rushed to the oven. I grabbed a pair of mitts and pulled out the cookie sheet. “Voila, perfect bacon.”
“And no splatter.” She set her computer bag down on the couch. “I noticed a bike out front. Is Slash home?”
I nodded. “He wasn’t supposed to get in until later this morning, but he rode hard to make it back last night. Are you hungry? I’m making scrambled eggs.”
“We can reschedule,” she said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with him. He’s been gone a while.”
I actually wanted more time to gather my nerves before I clobbered him with hysterical feelings.
“It’s fine,” I assured her. “Stay.”
“In that case, yes, I love scrambled eggs.”
While the eggs were crackling in the pan, I got a few pieces of toast going. Slash wandered into the kitchen completely dressed as Willa devoured her plate of food.
“Morning,” he greeted.
Willa waved since her mouth was full.
“Breakfast?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “I’ve got a meeting at the clubhouse.”
“Oh,” I said, nibbling my lip. “How long will you be gone?”
“Few hours.” He kissed me on the lips. “Bye, Willa. Thanks again for handling shit.”
“No problem,” she said.
The front door closed, and I looked at Willa. “Handling what shit?”
“Your purchases at Leather and Ink,” she said.
“Ah, right.” I sighed.
“What’s that sigh for?” she demanded.
“No reason,” I lied.
“Hmm. Okay.” She wiped her greasy fingers on a paper napkin and then stood up. Willa retrieved her laptop. “I did three different mock-ups for your new website.”
“Three?”
“Just the home page,” she clarified. “So you can see which one you like the best, then you can run it by Jazz. Whichever one you guys choose, I’ll go ahead with it.”
“Jazz gave me free reign,” I said.
“That works.”
“They’re all gorgeous. How am I supposed to choose?” I asked after taking a look at each of the designs.
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m really not. You’re good at this, Willa.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay, teal and pink.”
“Ah, I had a feeling you were going to choose that one!”
“When do you think we can have the new site up and running?”
“Hmm. Well, the next few weeks are a bit crazy for me.”
I nodded. “I get it. Believe me. Can we get the catering request page set up ASAP? I’m getting a lot of phone calls, which is wonderful, but I need to get it streamlined, and emails and some details about the business will really help.”
“Absolutely. I can take care of that one today, and we’ll finish the rest of the site later.”
“Wonderful. Now, can we please talk about payment?”
“We can, but I have an idea—if you’ll hear me out.”
“Go on.”
“Okay, well, what if you don’t pay me, and instead I use your website in my portfolio?”
“Portfolio,” I repeated. “Are you going to start your own business?”
“Maybe. A side hustle for sure. Would you be okay with that?”
I thought for a moment and then smiled. “I’m more than okay with you using my website in your portfolio, but from one business owner to another, you shouldn’t ever do any work that you don’t charge for. Nothing in life is free, so I’m going to pay you whether you want me to or not. Send me an invoice, and don’t be shy, okay? I really appreciate what you’re doing for my business.”
“Wow, are you sure?”
“Absolutely. It’s a win-win.”
“Okay. If you insist.” She grinned. “Ah, crap. I gotta go. Thanks for breakfast.”
“Thanks for the website.” I winked.
When I was alone, I leaned against the door. As I cleaned up the kitchen, I worked myself into a fine tizzy. If Slash had mirrored my feelings, he would’ve told me. Instead, he’d tried to fuck me in the kitchen to distract me. He would’ve succeeded if Willa hadn’t shown up.
But now my ardor had cooled and my brain had cleared.
If that man thought we were going to pick up where we left off in the kitchen, he was sorely mistaken.