24
LOGAN
B loom bit into his sandwich, sitting cross-legged on the island, while I loaded the dishwasher. I shook my head but didn’t reprimand him that the chair was for sitting. I was too grateful…too happy…too worried that he was sticking by me no matter what. Given his dedication to his club and brothers, I’d thought he would hate me for betraying my family.
I’d forgotten that for Bloom, family wasn’t blood but the people who took care of you.
“How’s your sandwich?” I asked.
“Good. I can’t stop eating them.”
“And you said your brothers had a bottomless pit. Seems you’ve learned a lot from them.”
“I can’t help it. I never had enough food as a child, so I put away as much of it as I can right here.” He patted his stomach.
I closed the dishwasher, hit the Start button, and walked over to him. I raised the hem of his shirt.
“Hey!” Bloom sucked in his belly and sat upright.
A spurt of laughter forced its way out of my lungs. “What are you sucking in? You don’t even have a gut.”
“I do from eating all this food you’ve been feeding me. If you continue to treat me this well, I’m gonna get fat.”
“And you think that’ll make me love you less?”
“It won’t?”
“Of course not.” I lowered my head and planted kisses over his tummy. “I love you for you not for your body.”
Bloom dropped the bread on to the island, grabbed his shirt, and yanked it over his head. “Let’s do it.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but we need to hit the shower, then go to the Reapers clubhouse.”
He wrinkled his nose. “You don’t owe them any more explanation.”
“My explanation is still a bit murky after last night. What were you thinking going after Joel like that?”
“Ah, Logan, don’t start.” He hopped down from the island, picked up the rest of the bread, and stuffed it into his mouth. “Race you to the bathroom!”
He took off, a mass of tattoos and lean muscles, leaving behind a trail of crumbs. I stood there grinning for a minute, then quickly cleaned up the mess and followed him.
When I entered the bathroom, Bloom was already undressed and in the shower. He pulled back the glass door and waved a bottle of lube around. “I’m all ready.”
God, he was always so hot for sex, and I loved it. I loved it more that I was the only one who ever saw him this needy. I shrugged off my clothes and joined him. Water pelted down on us, turning the space into a steamy little hideaway—okay, not so little. He was on me in a second, legs around my waist, and lips fastened on mine. I knew better than to try to slow him down.
We did nothing but kiss for a few minutes. It should have gotten boring at some point, but I couldn’t get enough of his tongue in my mouth or mine in his. The sexy whimpering sounds from the back of his throat drove me crazy.
I lowered him back to his feet and turned him against one wall. He linked his hands together behind his back and tilted his ass.
“Logan,” he whined. “Fuck me hard. I’ve been bad. Punish me.”
I hissed in a breath, and my cock twitched. I took a moment to admire him—the way the water cascaded down his narrow back, following the lines of his sleek muscles and pooling where the small of his back met his firm behind, glistening under the steamy spray.
Then I was on him.
I captured both his wrists in one hand, holding them securely behind his back. I smacked his ass, the wetness of his skin making a satisfyingly sharp sound echo off the tiled walls. Bloom moaned, his eyes seeking mine over his shoulder.
“More,” he begged.
I gave him another slap, harder this time. The sounds he made were music, low moans and gasps that left my blood boiling. He was already lubed up, so I wasted no time in aligning myself with his entrance.
Bloom met me with a sigh, his body accommodating mine eagerly. As I entered him, a rush of heat enveloped me; the feel of him, the sight of him taking me willingly, caused a knot to tighten in my gut.
With one hand, I gripped his hip, anchoring him to me. With my other hand, I still held his wrists behind his back. I quickened my pace, and his moans became breathless mewls.
I fell into an even rhythm, each stroke causing us both to groan loudly.
“Loooogaaaan.” He was on his toes and only my grip on him kept him on balance as I drove into him with powerful strokes. He pressed his forehead against the cool tile, his cries growing with each thrust.
Leaning close, I whispered in his ear, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that? Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re mine.”
His breath hitched, and the corners of his lips curled upward into a smile. A jolt shot right to my heart. It wasn’t just his body that turned me on; it was his spirit, wild and untamed, yet so tender toward me.
“Make me come,” he gasped.
I delivered a thrust that smacked my pelvis hard into his cheeks. His nails scratched over the tiled wall of the shower. His legs quivered. He was close. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and bit him there.
“Oh!” He shuddered, so I sank my teeth into a different place, and he shot his load onto the shower floor. His body convulsed around me, his moans blending with the pounding of water against tile.
He trembled against me, and I slowed my pace, releasing my hold on his hips. Bloom turned around and went down on his knees. He blinked against the droplets of water clinging to his long lashes. He took my cock in his hand and stroked me from the base, brushing his thumb over the sensitive tip. A shiver of pleasure coursed through me.
Without warning, he sucked me down hard once, twice, drawing out a groan from deep within my chest. I braced my arms against the wall. He gripped my hips and pulled me forward. Giving in to him, I thrust my cock to the back of his throat. He’d gotten so good at this.
My sweet, stabby little cocksucker.
I drilled his mouth hard, losing all sense of control while he gagged around me.
“Bloom.” His name was a litany, the beginning of a prayer I would be saying for the rest of my life. My knees nearly buckled as waves of pleasure rolled over me. White hot ecstasy surged through every vein in my body, blurring my vision, and I struggled to control my breath. Bloom eagerly swallowed down my cum, his expression one of bliss.
He let me pop out of his mouth, then went back in, swallowing all around me.
“Fuck.”
Another spurt of cum shot down his throat. He coughed and released me.
“Shit.” I hooked my hands under his armpits and hauled him up. His fit of coughing took a minute to subside, and I rubbed his back through it.
“Devil.” He grinned. “Well, that would have been an embarrassing way to die. Choked on cum.”
Chuckling, I pulled him into me and kissed him. We lingered in the shower far longer than necessary, kissing, touching, and talking about our wedding. A simple ceremony. Only those we cared about would be there. And we would go away somewhere for our honeymoon. The unspoken question whether we would come back lingered.
The Friday afternoon was quiet as we drove to the clubhouse. Silence buzzed between us with unspoken thoughts. Bloom kept his hand on my thigh, his knee bouncing restlessly as he stared out the window. I knew that look. He was lost in his head, and honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to pull him out of it.
My thoughts were a maze of doubt and uncertainty. If my father could reach a US Marshal, how could I trust anyone to protect us? And if we ran, how long could we hide before they found us? Worse, how could I take Bloom away from his club, his family?
The car jolted to the right, and I fought to keep my hold on the steering wheel as the scrape of metal crushing under metal reverberated through the air. I swerved, fighting to keep all four wheels on the ground.
“What the fuck!” Bloom cried.
In the rearview mirror, I caught sight of a midnight-blue SUV just before it rammed into us again. The steering wheel vibrated beneath my palms, but nothing short of a miracle could keep us from spinning out of control. Tires screamed against the pavement, smoke billowing as we spun wildly before the car crashed into the guardrail.
“Bloom!” I reached for him, but he’d already undone his seat belt, knife in hand.
“Get out of the car!”
For someone so young, his response under pressure was calming. My shoulder screamed in protest as I wrenched free the gun I’d stashed under the seat and pushed open my door. Gunfire erupted, hitting the body of the car and forcing me to slam the door shut.
“Logaaaan!”
“I’m fine.” But for how long? Whoever was shooting at us had no intention of taking us alive.
I crawled over the console and through the passenger door as glass exploded behind me. I fell to one knee on the hard asphalt. “Son of a bitch.”
“Logan—”
“Stay down,” I barked, pressing my back against the side of the car. Bullets peppered the vehicle.
At least two men had to be in the other vehicle. Bullets pinged off the wreckage, sending shards of metal and plastic flying.
“Do you know how to use that thing?” Bloom yelled.
I leaned out just enough to spot one of the figures, dressed in black and wearing a ski mask advancing toward my side. His companion headed to where Bloom was. Ignoring the blood rushing through my ear, I steadied my hold on the Glock and squeezed the trigger twice. One bullet caught him right in the center of the chest. The man stumbled back, clutching his wound.
“I’m hit!” he yelled. “Retreat.”
Coward. They wanted to leave after one got hit? I was fucking tired of running. Of always looking over my shoulder. Rising to my feet, I aimed and fired at the two men hurrying back into the vehicle. The one I’d shot in the chest caught two more bullets in the back. His partner shoved him into the SUV, and my next bullet hit him in the shoulder.
Son of a bitch.
They sped off, tires screeching, leaving us with a heavy cloud of dust and the acrid smell of hot rubber. I leaned against our battered car, panting.
“They’re gone.” Bloom came up behind me, one hand fisting in my shirt. “But we should get out of here.”
“Yeah.” If our car still worked.
We climbed into the car, and I put the gun away. To my relief, the engine coughed and spluttered, then resumed its normal purr.
“Thank fuck,” Bloom muttered. “Those fucking assholes. They shouldn’t have gotten away, though that one you shot is as good as dead. I can’t believe you know how to fire a gun.”
Of course I did. I might not have wanted to be involved with the Mafia, but I was still an Agosti. My father had ensured we all knew how to fight, how to withstand torture and not bring shame to the family name. Weapons might never be my first choice, but if I had to, I could use them.
“I can’t believe he actually means to kill me,” I spoke out my thoughts aloud, then winced at the sound of my voice. What did I expect? That he would be lenient because I was his son? He’d spent the last ten years in prison because of me. The family was no longer the most feared of the five families that made up the Casa Nostra.
“Sweet Satan, I just realized how fucked up both our families are.”
A match made in heaven.