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— EDDIE —
I’m doubting my own sanity as I get on my bike and ride over to the marina. I should be heading over to meet with Yates and a few other brothers he’s reached out to. Yates and I have set things in motion to take back what’s rightfully mine but we need to let others know what’s about to go down. It’s tricky, though. Yates isn’t completely sure about a few brothers on which side they are.
Apparently, Rush has promised them loads of cash without any effort. Of course, it’s dirty business he’s put his sticky fingers in and that’s not something we want the club connected with. But like I said, the asshole does have some bikers wanting to lean this way so we have to be careful who we approach before I walk into the clubhouse. Even more because Rush is the type of leader who forces his way and uses force against those who stand up to him.
That’s also why I’m questioning my sanity. I was set to keep my distance from Gracy but seeing her hugging Clemente made utter rage flow through my veins. It doesn’t make sense and maybe it’s the whole “if I can’t have her no one can.” But right now, as I park my bike and head to her boat, I leave it all behind me. My mother told me all about her and how they met and how fucked-up her father is. A father who turned out not to be her biological father.
Man, how can Clemente just throw that little piece of information at her as if it’s nothing? But, to be honest, I’m glad she’s not connected to this asshole, Spencer, by blood because I’ve dealt with him before, he’s a fucking snake. But all of this is something that slams into a person, and when I received her text, I had to go to her to make sure she’s alright.
It’s pitch dark on her boat and I’m not liking this one damn bit. A woman all alone late at night, even if I know this marina must have some form of security, and she has Finn with her, she shouldn’t be here all alone. Not with the information Clemente shared with her on top of everything.
I get on board and I hear Finn coming my way and the murmur of a faint, “No, no, Finn, stay here.”
I scoop Finn up and walk to the front where Gracy is trying to get up. There’s an empty bottle of wine and a new bottle right next to it. I put Finn down just in time to catch Gracy who stumbles over her own feet. The both of us curse for different reasons. Gracy about the pillows trying to tackle her and me for her drinking too much on a damn boat.
I bend down and take her into my arms and head below deck. I give a short whistle and Finn grabs his stuffed shark and follows me down. I have to say, this is one damn fine boat. There’s a wide space with a tiny kitchen, a large couch split in two so it covers half the space left and right along with two tables in front of it. A TV is plastered against one of the cabinets across the kitchen and in the back is a door where I imagine the bedroom is.
Gracy slaps my shoulder. “Put me down, I was going to fix something to eat.”
“You shouldn’t have had all that wine,” I grumble.
“You’re not my father,” she shoots back and snorts, “I already had that position doubled today. Cleared up. Switched. Clarified. Whatever. I’m hungry.”
Her feet hit the floor and she heads for the kitchen. When she passes Finn she mutters, “Go, Finn! At least one of us gets to have happy hump time.” She pulls open the refrigerator and bends over. “I could use some serious hump time. I need it more than food.” She shoots up and glances at me. Dead serious she asks, “Any chance you want to rethink the whole no sex thing? Because I’d be willing to do the whole down and dirty thing and move on as if nothing happened.”
She sidesteps as if the boat is going through rocky weather. “And I’m not just saying it because I’m drunk, because I’m not.”
Right. I’m pretty sure I could get tipsy from her breath alone if I’d kiss the fuck out of her right now. I’m glad I went against my better judgement and headed over to her. And I can’t believe Clemente left her alone to get drunk on a damn boat.
I stalk toward her and grab her by the shoulders to guide her to the side. I bend down to have a look into the refrigerator myself and glance around before checking some of the cabinets to see what I can whip up for us to eat.
“We’re not going to have sex, Gracelynn. And it has nothing to do with you being sober, tipsy, or drunk. I need for you to be safe. And that means I can’t get involved with you, no matter how badly I want you...it’s not safe.”
“We’d be safe if you use a condom, doofus,” she says and rolls her eyes.
Yes. Definitely sober as fuck.
“I don’t have a condom on me, darlin’.” I can’t help but chuckle and I can’t think of another answer as I gather some stuff to make spaghetti.
“Aw, shucks.” She sighs overdramatically and plunks down on the couch next to the kitchen. “I’m not on the pill or anything because I haven’t had sex in years. Stupid guys. Did you ever notice the different types of guys and how you can tell with one glance if someone is trying to hide their personality? It’s in the eyes. People who are rotten on the inside always hide things. It’s a gleam. I knew my father...who in fact turned out not to be my father at all...he has the gleam. I should have known. I wish my mother would have left him sooner and had her happily ever after with my biological father. Life really sucks. Like major sucking. Like more than the best blow job I ever gave. Shit. Forget that last part. I give good blow jobs. I just meant the way I hollow my cheeks til the max, the whole ultimate sucking experience.”
The pan I was holding clatters to the floor. “Could you stop fucking talking about blow jobs for one damn minute? Fuck!”
Just what I need, a visual in my head about her giving the best damn blow job while I haven’t had sex in years. I could come in my goddamn pants with the mere thought of Gracy on her knees in front of me, my dick in her mouth while her supernova eyes glance up at me, silently begging me to fuck her mouth until I fire my cum down her throat.
“You’re thinking about me giving you one, aren’t you?” She giggles. She fucking giggles!
I should shove my dick into her mouth as payback, but instead I bend down to grab the pan and put it underneath the tap to rinse it, keeping my hands busy and trying to clear my head along with it.
“Want me to help?” Gracy quips from right beside me.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter and try to calm my raging heart.
“What are we making?”
“Definitely not babies,” my mind offers and I clear my throat to answer her. “Spaghetti.”
“Yum. I’ll help.” Suddenly she doesn’t seem drunk at all when she starts to roam around the kitchen.
We work side by side in the little space until she bends down right in front of me to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. The visual before me where I long to grab her ass is one I itch to make reality. Need I mention she’s wearing a damn bikini and has some flimsy scarf wrapped around her waist?
It would be so easy to rip off the scarf, shove those bikini bottoms to the side and slide my dick home. I’m still staring when she shoves a water bottle into my hands.
“Here, drink. Looks like you need to cool down.” The mischief in her eyes is tempting me to drag her close and kiss her.
Come to think of it, she doesn’t look as drunk as she seemed when I got here. “How much wine did you have?”
She shrugs. “Probably a little more than half a bottle but it took me hours.”
“You faked being drunk off your ass?” I state.
“Yup.” She gives me devilish smile. “Nice way to test you and to give myself an advantage in case you did have bad intentions. You know, underestimate a drunk woman and all.”
“Your thought process is plausible,” I grumble.
A sexy giggle rings through the air and it makes our gaze connect. In this moment there’s static noise filling my ears and I only have eyes for her. The way her chest rises and falls, the longing in her supernova gaze and the way her lips part.
Fuck it.
I reach for her and wrap my fingers around the nape of her neck to pull her forward as I bend down to meet in the middle as our lips crash together in a rough kiss. A slight gasp escapes her but it quickly turns into a moan. Her tiny hands slide over my chest as she grabs fistfuls of fabric to keep me close.
Her taste is addictive as my tongue slides in and starts a slow dance with hers. Electrical. As if my body is charging for what’s to come. My dick hardens against her and desperately needs to be brought out of the confinement of my jeans.
My other hand slides to her ass to pull her closer and to knead it. Soft. Firm. So fucking perfect. I press her against the counter but I feel like it’s not enough. Using both hands I lift her up on the counter so she can wrap her legs around me. I pull slightly back to cup her breast and boldly slide her bikini top to the side to reveal her tight nipple that’s begging for my mouth.
Leaning in I let my tongue trail a path around her areola before I graze her nipple with my teeth. Her fingers roam through my hair as she pulls me closer and moans the way I want her to when I ultimately slide my dick between the lips of her pussy. Dammit, I need to be inside her. Now.
Hissing draws our attention and the both of us jump into action when the spaghetti starts to boil over. I would like nothing more than to turn off the stove and ignore the whole damn world so I can bury myself inside Gracy, but the moment is shattered and she seems to give all of her attention to finishing the spaghetti.
“You can sit down, I’ll finish up,” she says and I have my confirmation.
Too fast, too damn soon, but it felt so right to have her in my arms. And maybe it’s for the best because we don’t have a condom and she’s not on the pill. Still. It’s a damn shame we have to wait, but she’s absolutely worth it.
I clear my throat and ask, “Where do you keep the plates?”
She gives me a shy smile and points the spoon she’s holding in the direction of a cabinet. I grab two plates and place everything on the table. Gracy carries the spaghetti over to the table and starts to divide some onto the two plates.
I’m having a hard time keeping a straight face when she actually starts to eat as if she’s in a restaurant, curling the spaghetti around a fork with a little help from a spoon, but all too soon she takes one string of spaghetti and closes her eyes to suck hard and lets it bounce left and right around her mouth before it disappears inside.
Instead of eating, all I can do is stare at her. Even if she’s high-class and the shit she just had thrown on her lap—not to mention me kissing the fuck out of her only mere moments ago—she takes this tiny piece of time to enjoy her food carelessly. Not one hint of awkwardness but instead the woman in front of me is enjoying her food as if she’s alone in the room.
Maybe it’s because I’ve always been around other types of women because they don’t hold a candle to the woman who’s sitting across from me. And it’s not just about the food either. The way she gives it to me straight, her beauty, her delightful character, it’s the whole package. Besides, my body never reacted the way it did when my hands were on this damn fine woman.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Gracy asks as she grabs a napkin and wipes her mouth clean.
Or at least she tries to, but the red sauce made her mouth slightly orange. I grab my fork and scoop some pasta into my mouth but finish it the way she’s been doing and it earns me a blast of giggles that makes my dick twitch.
“How did it go with your friend Yates? Everything okay?” she asks and picks up her fork and spoon.
“It’s more complicated than I thought. It’s also the reason I reached out to Clemente. Well, I was under the assumption I reached out to the person in charge, Clemente’s uncle. Who we’d normally approach, and since I have been gone for a while I had no clue Clemente took over.”
I don’t want to drag her into my mess but she helped me out with Yates, this is the best answer I could give her with less information and yet enough to end it.
“His uncle used to be in charge but handed it over to his brother when Clemente and his father moved back to the US. Clemente took over because his father had a heart attack the day my mother died. Clemente said he hasn’t been the same ever since. That’s the reason my brother took over. Gosh, it’s weird to say brother. I’ve known him for a while and we always got along great, though I haven’t seen him since my mother’s funeral and now all of a sudden he’s...family.” She puts down the spoon and fork and picks up her napkin to mindlessly twiddle with it.
I reach out and cover her hand with mine. “I know what it’s like to have your world shake on its foundation. There’s no rush at all to get back on your feet after you’ve been knocked over, you know that, right? Take your time and you’ll find your strength to set things right again.”
“Aren’t you Mr. Positive.” She snorts and then her face turns serious. “I’ve also told Clemente I won’t stop seeing you. Not that I’m seeing you, but...well, the two of you were having this heated discussion about you pulling me into the mess you’re wrapped in, and then you mentioning how Clemente is judging you and ignores the fact he’s the boss of—” She falls silent and whispers to herself, “The boss of what? That sentence was never finished because Clemente cut you off. Familia. Arranged marriage. His father took over as head of the Familia. Oh. My. God. Clemente is like...like...the mob? Is he a godfather or something? This can’t be happening. My ass landed into a bad movie. Okay, guys, you can come out with the cameras now. I know this insanity can’t be real. Oh, shit. This can’t be real, right? Tell me I’m imagining things, Eddie. I have a very vivid imagination that’s gone haywire. Come on, say something.”
Fuck. Why did that asshole give her information and not mention anything about his family? “Clemente didn’t tell you anything?”
“Would I be asking you this if he told me?” she hisses in anger.
“Hey, don’t be angry at me,” I shoot back and shove my plate away from me as I grab a napkin to wipe my mouth.
She takes her head in her hands and mutters, “We agreed to be friends, Eddie. Please, as my friend, tell me if I’m the half-sister of a mafia guy.”
“Not just any mafia guy, Gracelynn.” I lean back and give it to her straight. “Clemente is head of the biggest mafia family and practically runs the underworld of California.”
“Well, I guess if you’re going to do something, you’d better give it your all, right? Holy shit. Really? The head? The biggest? Great. Well, I already had the big name of wealth and high-class connected to my ass, I might as well add the underworld to it too, right? Shit. My life is such a mess.”
“Eating spaghetti is a mess, darlin’,” I chuckle and reach out to wipe the corner of her mouth with my thumb. “From what my Ma told me, you’re a strong one who can handle everything.”
Her eyes go down and a faint blush spreads over her cheeks. “Running the estate and cutting my father out of my life isn’t really a show of strength, Eddie.”
“About your father,” I grumble. “And I really hate bringing it up, but I see no other way around it because not telling you feels wrong somehow.”
“Well, don’t you think with the big news bang of hearing I have a half-brother, and with it my father wasn’t actually my father, is kinda hard to top? So, cut the whole ‘hate bringing it up’ and just get it out already. Wait. Is this about my father as in the biological one or the non-biological one? Shit. This is so frustrating.”
“I’m talking about Spencer.”
“Ah, the one who married my mother for money, the fake, asshole father, gotcha,” she grumbles.
“When I mentioned your name to Yates he said I couldn’t trust you.”
“What?” she gasps. “Are you kidding me? Not trust me? He doesn’t even know me. I should have punched him in the gut harder than I already did. What an ass.”
She starts to curse and I hold up my hand to stop her. “Let me explain.” She huffs and it makes her even more adorable. “It was your last name that set him off. Yates found out that Rush has been having secret meetings with Spencer for quite some time now.”
Shit. I shouldn’t have added that part. She doesn’t need to know every detail, and yet maybe she does. “If I tell you something it needs to stay between us, understood?”
“Understood.” The fierceness in her voice is something I respect.
“Rush wants to pull my MC into dealing drugs as a major money income. Drugs that need to be transported and he needs an investor, among other things, to set things in motion. A partner so to say.”
“That’s bad. That’s very bad,” she muses. Her eyes suddenly narrow as they lock on mine. “This MC of yours, are you into shady business like Rush? I’ve seen movies, watched TV, and read books. Bikers aren’t all sweet and nice, and ride on the right side of the law. They dabble in weapons, prostitution, drugs, assassins, all that stuff that leads to a rap sheet for miles on end. Wait...why were you in prison?”
“Are you judging a man who just got out of jail?” I can’t hide the smile she brings out of me as she’s sitting across from me with a determined look on her face to get to the bottom of this.
“I’m not judging, Eddie. I’m trying to make sense of it all. You know. Me, a woman who thought her life was slightly dysfunctional with my parents not getting along, while there were clearly other things going on. Then there’s you, and your problems, and you suddenly mention drug deals, and Spencer having meetings because of it. Oh, and let’s add Clemente into it too. You know, my mafia boss brother. Ugh. And we’re back to you, walking out of prison and wanting your MC back.”
“Like I said, I was set up. Rush betrayed me by forging papers about shit I didn’t do. Then I thought I could trust the club’s attorney but she was fucking Rush so they were working together. By the time I figured it all out I was in jail. And no, we don’t do any shady business like drugs or guns. I have several businesses and one of those is being a silent partner in a construction company that used to be my father’s but now belongs to my mother. It’s where most of my brothers work. So, you can say this MC works in construction. And before you comment with things that pop up in your head...no, we’ve never hidden a body in a foundation or covered one up with cement or plastered one behind a wall.”
“You know that’s kinda disappointing when you put it like that. No excitement at all? You guys don’t do the whole gangs, trade guns, shootouts for turf thing? You make it sound less action movie and more like a boring documentary. Not that documentaries are boring. I like them. And I’m glad you keep those guys on a straight path. Though I have to say, the whole construction thing does offer opportunities for hiding a body...are you sure you guys never used the company to hide your enemies?”
A chuckle escapes me and I shake my head at the way she’s clearly teasing me with her tone of voice and the twinkle in her eyes.
“That wasn’t my father’s intention when he started the construction company. He did it to create a job opportunity for himself and a few guys he grew up with. He built a solid friendship with five others, that’s when they founded Unruly Defenders. For a place they could enjoy when they were done with work and with riding their bikes. To take a break from the workload and so on. It grew into something more, a brotherhood, a family. And I hate how Rush put an end to it. He not only stole my freedom but he ripped everything apart that my father built. My father’s death might have been classified as an accident, but I have my reasons to assume Rush is responsible for the death of my father. I’m fairly sure, but I can’t prove anything. And as if it wasn’t enough, he also killed his dream by taking Unruly Defenders MC from me and ripping it apart by being a dictator who only cares about himself.” My voice cracks due to all the emotion flowing through my veins.
Gracy slides around the table to sit next to me and leans her head on my shoulder. “You’re already making a change to turn it all around, Eddie. These things take time and if what you mentioned is true, then Rush has been planning everything for a long time and you have to be careful. You’ve only been out for a handful of days, and you’re just one man. Don’t carry the weight of all of this on your own shoulders. You have to trust others like how Rush is also reaching out to Spencer. Hey, was that why you had a meeting with Clemente?”
Fuck it. I’ve shared too much anyway, and talking with her takes away some of my stress and helps me get things in order inside my head. “No, like I said, I thought I was meeting with his uncle, he was the one in charge when I went away years back. We have worked together in the past when my father was still alive. Clemente’s family practically run the underworld of California and have knowledge and contacts. I wanted information about Rush. Clemente warned me about him because Rush is making too many waves. He’s drawing attention from both the law and the underworld.”
“That’s why Clemente doesn’t want me near you,” she muses.
“Clemente wants you safe, and so do I.” I wrap my arm around her and pull her close. “But I’m afraid the both of us may want the impossible because you’re tied to all of it. Clemente, Spencer...” I place a swift kiss on the top of her head. “And to me.”
Admitting that last part out loud is a necessity. With everything we talked about—throwing it out in the open—I’m not about to cut the one thing out of my life that feels right. The reminder of my cellmate, Chance, vivid in my thoughts how he spared the woman he cared about but ended up hurting the both of them in the end.
They did manage to end up together after a long road to get there, but those years were hell for the both of them. And this also is a reminder. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. So why the hell should I fight it, or punish myself even more? I’ve done my sentence, it’s time to move forward and take what’s mine.
