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Why? Why did he reject me? Desert me? How could he play me for a fool with his God-talk? With his meaningless vow to never let me go…
“Christ, Almighty God,” he hissed, thrusting in and out of me with such a force I’d never experienced before. It made me question when he’d last had his pipes cleared. I wouldn’t ask him, though. I didn’t want to know anything about his sex life. Bikers, unclaimed bikers in this club specifically, had their pick of seven, sometimes more kittens. “God, I’ll never get enough of you.”
“You sure like bringing God into the bedroom, big guy. Seems wrong to me.” I clawed at his back as he picked up speed.
Hero sucked on my neck, marking me again. I had so many hickies on my body, I looked like a leopard. I loved every single one. Hero said he wanted to leave his mark on every piece of me so I’d know who I belonged to. No man had ever claimed me in this way before. It felt primal. Possessive. Totally Neanderthal. I ate up every bit of it.
“Roja, baby, being with you is a religious experience. God shines down on us. Embrace his blessing on our union.”
I snorted at how passionate he sounded. “Jesus, Hero. Were you a preacher in another life?” I was teasing him, but seriously, his words seared my skin. His sexy, raspy voice with a slight Spanish accent melted me. He spoke perfect English. Other than ese and Rojo, I hadn’t heard any other Spanish from him, but I wanted to.
“No, baby. You just make me want to drop to my knees and praise the good man upstairs.” He pulled out of me, flipped me over, and grabbed my hips to lift me up. “Now shut the fuck up, Roja. You’re talking too much. Let me fuck you silent.”
I giggled and fisted the pillow. “Promises, promises, big guy. You were the one who started praying and singing hymns during sex.”
He drove into my pussy and roared. “I’ll never get enough of you. You’re mine, Roja. My newest addiction, a healthier one. Praise be to God.” His mouth dropped to my shoulder, and he kissed it. “I’m never letting you go.” Another kiss. “Mine.” And another. “Mine.”
He knocked the air out of me, silencing me with his passionate proclamation.
4
Storm
IT HADN’T BEEN more than a couple of months since the mayhem brought on by the Dirty Hunters. Not nearly long enough for anyone to get over it. Least of all, Madeline. I still harbored some guilt over what she’d braved. For what all of them, Tara, Hero, and Emilee, had endured. Not keeping my woman and the others safe ate at me. The loss of AJ tormented me, despite knowing the MC life was rough and dangerous. Every one of my brothers lived with the knowledge that they may not see their next birthday… like AJ. He was too young when his life ended with a bullet straight to the heart.
But Madeline taught me I needed to let shit go. Of course, it was easier said than done. I’d gladly spend the rest of my life making it up to her—sort of like repentance for letting her and the others down.
Angel’s girl didn’t fool me. What in the fuck would I do about the redhead? Her trailer house was secure. I had a prospect watching her when she wasn’t at work. Yet, alarms blared in my head every time I looked into her big brown eyes. She was hurting something fierce.
Fuck!
The fact that she was Hero’s woman, whether either of them admitted it, wasn’t what had me in protective mode. Hero hadn’t officially claimed Tara. So technically, she wasn’t the club’s responsibility. Yet here I was spending time and money on her. Why?
My gaze lifted when I heard my woman.
Madeline shuffled out of the bathroom wearing my coveted Ozzie Osbourne shirt. I loved it on her. Stole my breath away. More so now, with her tits rounder and plumper thanks to my baby in her belly.
The redness at the tip of her nose drew my attention. She’d been crying when doing her bedtime routine or fighting to keep the tears locked up. Either way, it fuckin’ tore me up when she was sad.
My Angel was the reason I’d do everything possible to keep Tara safe. I do anything for my wife. Anything to make her happy.
“Talk to me, baby.” I patted her spot on my lap. She’d taken a bit longer than usual while I waited in bed for her.
She took my outstretched hand and straddled my hips. I caressed her soft cheek with my finger. She was so goddamn beautiful. The love in her eyes was powerful and possessive. It wrapped around us securely, like an invisible blanket.
I still couldn’t believe she was mine. All mine. My old lady, my wife, the mother of my child. Nothing astounded me more than her being the little firecracker who’d worshiped me a decade ago. Fate had put her in my path the night at The Bullet, forever entwining us as one.
It was a gift I’d never be able to repay.
Madeline sighed, as if absorbing my touch into her soul. I knew the feeling. Did the same when she caressed my skin.
“She’s not okay. Tara hides it well, but she’s not okay. I’m so worried about her.”
“What do you want me to do, Angel? I’ll do it. Whatever you want.”
A sad smile curled the corner of her lips. “I don’t think you can do anything. She’ll just laugh off my worries, but I feel it, Kaleb. She’s hiding something. Through all our conversations since we met in college, I’ve pieced stuff together like a puzzle. She has severe anxiety. Depression. She fights like hell to hide both. But that’s not what has me twisted up inside.”
“What is it, then?” My chest tightened at the distress in Madeline’s baby blues. She wasn’t one to exaggerate. Never a drama queen. If she was concerned, to the point of tears, I took her seriously.
