Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
PULSE WOKE WITH a brick in his stomach. He’d hoped for a few minutes of peace before he recalled what he had to do today, but no, his body remembered the instant he woke up.
Five minutes. He’d give himself five minutes to enjoy the feel of Talia against him before he got up and called Curly. Five minutes of losing himself in her soft, warm skin. He rolled over and frowned at the empty bed and cold sheets.
Had she slept at all? He sat up with a sigh. He’d most likely find her sitting at the table with a third cup of coffee as she stared out the window and ran through every possible thing that could go wrong today.
“Talia?” he called as he dragged himself out of bed. She didn’t answer. His frown deepened. Could she be in the guest shower? Before emerging into the hallway, he tugged on some jeans and a plain black tee. “Tal?” he called again.
Maybe she’d fallen asleep on the couch. God, that would make him a dick. He’d slept on while she lay awake and eventually moved to the sofa alone.
But, no, she wasn’t on the couch either. “Tal, where are you?” he called as he walked into the empty kitchen. He frowned. Hadn’t she dumped her wallet and keys on the table when they’d come in last night?
On a hunch, he peeked out the window to the parking lot behind his apartment.
Her car was gone.
Pulse experienced two seconds of confusion before the worst-case scenario hit him, and he knew without a doubt where she was.
“Fuck!” he shouted into the quiet apartment. “Goddammit.” What a fucking fool he’d been. How the hell could he have fallen for her easy agreement to his ridiculous demand that she stay home? The Talia he knew would never go along with him ordering her ass around, especially if it meant leaving her on the sidelines.
“Fuck.”
He jammed his feet into his boots, then sprinted toward the door. The cops towed his bike to the impound lot, but he had a truck for when he had to get to work on nasty days.
Christ, why had she done this?
He’d had this feeling once before—an out-of-control sick feeling that everything was crumbling around him. This guilt ate away at his flesh until nothing remained but a husk. It was the day Camila died. That had been his fault the same way this was. Talia could be hurt, and there wouldn’t be anyone to blame but himself. If he’d thought Camila’s death had destroyed him, he’d been dead wrong. If something happened to Talia, no part of him would be left to recover. What he’d felt for Camila paled in comparison to what he felt for Talia. Though he’d spent years with the cartel princess, he’d never experienced genuine romantic feelings for her. He craved Talia like a drug.
He floored the gas pedal and sped out of his neighborhood with his tires screaming against the pavement the way his brain screamed inside his skull. The fact that he didn’t encounter any cops along the way was a miracle with how he weaved in and out of traffic at a dangerous rate of speed. Not that he’d have stopped for anything, but a high-speed police chase would have complicated the situation.
He reached the clubhouse in record time, screeching to a stop in front of the porch. He left the engine running and the door open as he charged toward the clubhouse and pounded up the three steps. With the roar of blood rushing in his ears, he threw the door open and came to a dead stop.
Talia, Curly, and Spec sat at a small round table. She had her back to him while his brothers sat opposite her, facing the entrance. All three froze at his arrival.
Too bad they didn’t remain stunned for long.
“Pulse…” Talia stood and turned to face him with sorrow written all over her face.
On the other hand, Spec wore a murderous scowl, while Pulse couldn’t decipher Curly’s expression.
He focused all his attention on the woman who had him tied up in knots. “Why?” he croaked. His throat felt as dry as the Sahara.
She gifted him a sad smile. “I had to try.”
Damn her.
The telltale click of a round being chambered had Talia stiffening. Pulse whipped his gaze to Spec to find his brother rounding the table with his gun leveled at Talia’s head. His heart came to a standstill in his chest, which made no sense as his blood roared in his ears.
No, no, no.
This was why she was supposed to stay back. It was his worst nightmare come true.
“W-what the fuck are you doing?” Pulse shouted. He lurched a step forward, but Spec’s voice had him freezing like a movie character immobilized in time.
“Don’t fucking move!” his enforcer screamed. “You know I’m not fucking around.”
“Don’t do this.” Now Pulse’s heart hammered against his ribs so hard it fucking hurt. He could barely take a breath. “Why?” he whispered.
“I made her a promise,” Spec said, jerking the gun to indicate Talia. His eyes were wild with the same murderous ferocity he’d used to protect the club so many times. To see that hatred turned on himself was devastating. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you for your fucking betrayal. But I didn’t make any promises about her safety, and I figure this might be the best way to punish you for your lies.” He stared Pulse right in the eye and grinned in the cold, lethal manner he reserved for their enemies.
That’s what he now considered Pulse.
“Spec, drop the fucking gun,” Curly said, calm and rational as he could be. “This isn’t the way we do things.”
Talia stood steady, but the fear in her eyes broke Pulse’s heart.
“Keep looking at me, Talia,” he said, his throat thick. “I can’t believe you did this, you stubborn, strong, wonderful, stupid woman.”
He got a wobbly grin in reply. “I’ve never been any good at doing what I’m told.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”
“Spec, you do not want to do this.” Curly inched a few steps closer to Spec. He kept his arms spread wide and unthreatening.
“I think I do, Prez. You’ve been fucking betrayed before. How are you not grabbing your gun?”
The longer Curly could keep Spec talking, the better their chances of escaping this without a bullet hole in Talia.
Spec was right. It’d be the best punishment imaginable. If he killed Talia, Pulse would never recover. He’d spend his life steeped in grief and guilt so powerful they’d destroy him from the inside out day by day until nothing remained but a living, breathing corpse.
“Because I know the world isn’t black and white, brother,” Curly said. “Our lives are all lived in shades of gray. Nothing is simple.”
“Bullshit. There are lies, then there’s the truth.”
“We’re all complicated, Spec. All square pegs trying to fit into round holes. You know that better than most. It’s what brought us all together in the first place.”
“Don’t, Prez. Don’t compare us. We’re nothing alike. I would die for this club, and this motherfucker would hand us over to his buddies, the goddamn feds.”
The kitchen door opened, and Liv burst into the room, barefoot and breathing like she’d run a marathon. Her hair was messy, she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, and she wore sweatpants and a tank top. Never before had Pulse seen her looking anything but put together and perfect in designer clothes with shoes and makeup to match.
“Spec!” she shrieked as she skidded to a halt. “Stop. What are you doing?”
Spec jolted as though he’d been slapped. “Liv, get the fuck out of here. You don’t want to be here.”
Brooke came in also but stayed near the kitchen entrance, staring with wide, terrified eyes.
Shaking her head, Liv continued toward her ol’ man. “Scott,” she said in a level voice. “Baby, please put the gun down. I don’t know what happened, but Pulse is your brother, and Talia has done nothing but help the club.”
“Liv, go. You don’t understand. He was a fucking fed. This one came here to plead his fucking case.” Spec vibrated with rage as he filled his ol’ lady in with the bare-bones details.
Liv reeled back in shock. She turned her astonished gaze Pulse’s way. With every telepathic power he didn’t possess, he tried to pass his thoughts and intentions to her through his mind. She blinked, then switched her attention to Talia, who was now trembling. Something passed between the women, an unspoken bond and connection he’d never fully understand.
“You said was ,” Liv took another step toward Talia.
“What? Babe, back the fuck up.”
Shaking her head, Liv took another step. “I can’t do that, Scott. You said he was a fed. Not is. Jo was a cop, and you love her. Maverick’s ol’ lady was FBI and stayed at our house.”
“He lied.”
“Well, then punch him in the face or something, but don’t do this. He’s your brother.” She kept walking closer.
Spec spat on the floor. “Not anymore.” He’d gotten so lost in his anger that he didn’t realize Liv had reached Talia.
Pulse held his breath as Liv pushed Talia behind her. She now stood at the business end of Spec’s pistol.
He lowered the gun immediately. “Baby…” Anguish tinged his voice.
“This is not the way.” She reached for his hand.
Spec sagged. He let the gun slip from his fingers into Liv’s, who passed it off to Curly before wrapping her arms around her man.
Talia let out a choked cry and then sprang toward Pulse like a stallion shooting out of the starting gate. He threw himself toward her, meeting her halfway. She leaped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his back as she buried her face in his neck. He caught her with ease and held her against him so tight he couldn’t believe she didn’t squawk in protest.
God, she felt so good—warm, soft, alive.
She trembled and cried softly in his arms, which tore his insides to pieces. This strong woman should never be made to shed a tear. And it was all his fault. If Spec had hurt her—
Don’t go there.
Liv had his gratitude forever.
Fuck talking to Curly or trying to work things out right then. Talia mattered most, and she needed to get the fuck out of there. Breaking down in front of others would upset her almost as much as being held at gunpoint. Pulse marched toward the exit with his arms full of Talia.
Before he reached the door, Brooke ran over. “Here,” she said, holding out a key. “Take apartment four. I overheard the entire thing from the kitchen. The two of you will be safe there from the feds, and Curly will keep the club away until the dust settles. No one will bother you. You have my word. I also turned your truck off and put the keys in the apartment.”
He searched Brooke’s eyes and found nothing but sincerity and trust. “Thank you,” he said with a nod as he accepted the key. Then, without another word, he slipped out of his favorite place in the world, but the place that now represented his most terrifying moment.
Neither spoke as he carried Talia across the property to the apartment. At some point, they’d need supplies to last them through more than a night or two, but that was a problem for later. Now, he needed to feel Talia’s skin, hear her breathe, and hear her heart thump in her chest.
By the time he reached the apartment, Talia had stopped crying and quivering. She clung to him like he might vanish if she lessened her hold, but he’d never complain about being crushed in her embrace.
As soon as he closed the apartment door behind them—the same one she’d stayed in—Talia sighed.
Alone at last.
And still breathing.
“I’m going to put you down so I can lock the door. Okay?”
“Yeah.” She unwound her legs from his waist and slid to the floor. Once she was steady on her feet, they released each other.
She silently waited while he secured the deadbolt. If it took him longer than usual, she didn’t comment. He needed the extra time to get his emotions in check. To figure out whether he wanted to wring her neck for putting herself in danger or kiss her until she ran out of breath for wanting to protect him.
In the end, what he’d decided didn’t matter. As soon as he turned back to face her, Talia took his hand and led him to the small bathroom. The determined gleam in her eye had him following without question.
She pushed him into the bathroom before her and turned on the shower. Steam filled the room within seconds, thanks to Curly’s purchase of high-end tankless water heaters.
“I don’t need a shower right now, Tal,” he said as she returned to him. “We need to talk about what hap—”
“We both need a shower.” She reached for his jeans and unbuttoned then unzipped the fly. He gritted his teeth as her knuckles grazed his dick. “We fucked multiple times last night, Pulse,” she said with a sly grin. “We’re pretty filthy.”
Jesus. With her hands at his crotch and her dirty mouth, he didn’t have a chance of preventing the erection. His cock swelled as she shoved his jeans over his ass.
“No underwear.” She tsked. “Like I said, filthy.”
“Talia…” The woman was playing a dangerous game. After the chaos of the previous night, realizing she’d run off that morning, then finding her under his brother’s gun, he was riding the edge of sanity and control. It wouldn’t take more than a nudge to tumble him over the edge.
“Shh.” She sank to her knees and went to work on his boots.
His cock bobbed right in front of her fucking face like it was reaching for her damn mouth. He stared at the ceiling and counted to ten while he fisted his hands at his sides and prayed for control. “Step out.” She patted his outer thigh as she stood.
“Talia, this is fucking nuts. You were just held at gunpoint.” The word nearly choked him. “We need to talk. You need to break down or some shit. And I need to tell you how stupid it was to… oh fuck.”
She nipped his lower lip—hard. His dick fucking loved it. Precum leaked from the tip and rolled down his shaft. Goddamn needy organ wouldn’t let his brain run the show.
“What I need…” she said as she wrapped her hand around his cock.
His eyes slammed shut. “Jesus.”
“Is for you to step in the shower so I can clean you off, then drop to my knees and suck you off.”
Her words punched him low in the gut. He reached for the vanity to keep from hitting the floor.
“I want your cock in my throat, Pulse. So get in the fucking shower.” She squeezed his dick until his eyes crossed.
He reached for the last vestige of strength to stop her and give her the comfort and assurances of safety she deserved when it hit him. This was Talia breaking down. She wasn’t the type to curl into a ball and sob. She wouldn’t want him to hold her and rock her while she lost her shit.
She wanted to take back her power. She wanted someone to control, and he was the lucky bastard to be at her mercy. Giving her this would help her get over what had happened better than forcing her to talk about how terrified she’d been. And when she was done exerting her authority over him, he’d turn the tables and eat her out until she was screaming, and not an ounce of anxiety remained.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She released him, allowing him to enter the steam and warm spray. He shut his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing as he let the soothing water begin to unknot his muscles. His bruises would be sore for a few days, but he’d survived worse. After a quick rustle of clothing, Talia joined him in the shower. She frowned as she took in the purple welts marking his torso.
“I’m okay,” he said. “Nothing more than some aches and tenderness.”
She nodded but still wore a frown of disapproval. Time to get her mind on something else.
“God, you’re so hot. Gorgeous.”
She stood before him, naked and without an ounce of insecurity. Water droplets speckled her tan skin, taunting him to lick them away. Her breasts were full and heavy, lighter than the rest of her skin, with rosy nipples he wanted in his mouth STAT.
Every move she made captivated him. The stretch of her side as she reached for the body wash. The way her arm flexed as she squeezed a large orange dollop onto her palm. How her breasts swayed as she lathered the gel between her hands. The scent of tangerines filled the small space, mixing with the lingering aroma of sex on their skin.
Instead of washing him as he’d expected, she first took care of herself, sliding her soapy hands across her chest, under her arms, over the swell of her stomach, and down between her sexy legs.
“Talia, let me touch you.”
She shook her head, smirking. “No. And be quiet.” Her eyes practically glowed with the high of being in control. And that’s what it was—she got high off the power of owning him. “Switch so I can rinse.”
He’d have walked straight into shark-infested water if she’d asked him to. They maneuvered around each other, her still stroking her hands over her body in the most erotic way imaginable and him with his fingernails digging into his palms so he didn’t disobey her command and put them all the fuck over her. To add to the torture, he got to watch the suds sluice over her slippery body before they swirled down the drain.
Damn lucky soap.
When she finished the X-rated show disguised as washing herself, she switched so he was back under the spray. “Your turn,” she said with a mischievous smile as she reloaded her hands with the fragrant soap.
The ultimate test came next—Talia’s warm, wet, soapy hands running all over him. She started at his chest, rubbing flat-palmed circles over his pecs and cleaning his chest hair. He groaned as her fingertips grazed his nipples—which had never given a crap about being involved before and which caused her to linger there playing for a few excruciating seconds.
His cock was so hard it fucking hurt, and combined with breathing in the thick steam, he was growing lightheaded. She walked around him, trailing her hands to his back, where she treated him to a quick massage. When her hands skimmed over his ass, he braced his hands on the walls of the shower to keep from collapsing.
She lowered behind him, taking care of his thighs and calves before rising again.
“I’m fucking clean,” he growled, causing her to chuckle.
“Almost.” She came back around to his front.
And then her hands were on his cock, and he was groaning long and low. This was not the light, clinical touch of someone trying to wash him. It was the caressing, squeezing strokes of a damn sadist getting off on his torment. She fisted him, sliding up and down with a twist at the end while her other hand kneaded his sac.
He kept himself propped up with his palms on the side walls, letting her play and wash away any evidence of their previous sex. Those hands on him felt like heaven and hell all at once. So good but not enough. His dick leaked so much fluid there wouldn’t be anything left when she finally allowed him to come.
She watched herself work. He watched as she drove him wild with her hand. His breathing sped, and his stomach muscles clenched. The hunger in her gaze stroked his desire as much as her fingers. It would have been so easy to come right then. He could have unloaded all over those curious hands without much more effort, but she’d promised him her mouth, so he pulled his lip between his teeth and bit down hard to keep from coming.
“Fresh and clean,” she announced in a cheerful, teasing tone that told him she was reveling in his torment. “Now, hold still.”
She lowered to her knees on the tile floor. Never had Pulse seen anything sexier than Talia at his feet with wet hair and water plastered to her head as his cock dripped two inches from her mouth. Another drop of precum beaded on the tip as she licked her lips.
“I’ve been dreaming of this,” she whispered.
You have no fucking idea.
She rubbed her cheek against his dick, ripping a gasp from him. Then, before he could get his bearings, she had him in her mouth, sucking the tip like her favorite damn lollipop.
“Mm,” she moaned. The vibrations traveled straight up his dick to his overfull balls.
This was going to be over embarrassingly fast.
Talia grabbed his thighs and pulled him deeper into her mouth. Nothing beat the intense heat and suction of her mouth.
“Fuck, Talia,” he said between heavy breaths. “You’re pretty with your mouth full of my cock.” And she was—eyes blissed, lips stretched, cheeks flushed.
Debauched and damn beautiful.
Her response was to suck him harder. When her throat muscles contracted around the tip of his cock, his hips bucked, and he reached for her head only to be slapped away by a determined Talia. She gripped his hips and pushed, anchoring him against the shower wall.
There’d be no stripping her of a single ounce of control.
Fuck, it was so hot watching her take her power back. He was more than happy to surrender to her ravenous need for dominance. As she continued to drive him mad with forceful suction and the hypnotic slide of her lips, he clenched his fist to keep from grabbing her head. It went against his instincts to let her immobilize his hips against the wall, but he resisted the urge to fuck her face and gave himself over to her command.
She tortured him with a gentle scrape of her teeth, teased the underside of his cock with her playful tongue before sucking him to the back of her throat again and swallowing. The onslaught of varying sensations kept him on edge and dying to thrust.
Sweat poured off his body, washed away by the rushing shower.
When she moaned again, the vibrations made his legs tremble.
She was driving him fucking mad.
On the next swallow, he knew it was game over. “Shit, I’m so fucking close, Tal. You gonna swallow it, baby? You gonna suck down all my cum when I fill that pretty mouth?”
She might have him at her mercy, but his words got to her. She whimpered as she met his gaze. The sight of her blissed-out from sucking him was more than he could take. He shouted as he arched off the shower wall, overpowering her hold on his hips. The movement jammed his dick down her throat. She gagged once before recovering in time to swallow his load as his balls erupted into her mouth.
“So fucking good. Baby, you’re so fucking perfect.” Wave after wave of molten pleasure pulsed through him, bucking his hips and spurting his soul through his dick. Talia gripped his hips, taking every drop he had to offer.
When he finally stopped coming, she shifted off her knees and sat on the shower floor opposite him with a sated smile as though she’d been the one to have her brains sucked out of her body. Her lips were red and swollen from the stellar job she’d performed. Where was his camera when he needed it?
“That helped,” she said with a tired smirk.
Pulse barked a laugh. “It sure as fuck did. But you know what will help even more?”
She arched an eyebrow.
“Coming as hard as I just did,” he said as he lowered to his knees and sat back on his heels. The hard tile bit into his skin, but he ignored the discomfort as he reached for her. He took hold of her ankles.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her tone rife with suspicion.
It was his turn to smirk. “Returning the favor, of course.” He yanked, and she slid across the slippery shower floor onto her back with a yelp.
“Pulse!” The fact she could laugh so shortly after such a traumatic event had to be a good sign. “What are you doing?” she half shrieked, half laughed.
“Told you already.” He slid her toward him until he could reach her ass. He grabbed it in both hands and pulled her onto his bent knees.
“Oh shit.” Her legs splayed wide around him, giving him the perfect view of her soaked pussy.
He was starving for a taste, but there wasn’t enough room in the tiny shower for him to get in position to dive face-first into her pussy. He settled for sliding two thick fingers into her.
“Yes.” She moaned and arched her back off the floor. She pumped her hips in time with his fast fingering, chasing the epic release she deserved.
“That’s it, baby, work that pussy on my fingers.”
He thumbed her clit, and she whimpered. That little vulnerable sound after she’d owned him went straight to his head. He wanted more of it. More of the Talia no one else saw. The open, exposed Talia he wanted all to himself.
“Pulse…”
His body blocked most of the shower spray, keeping her from getting waterboarded as she writhed on the slick floor. “You love it, don’t you? Love me working this needy pussy. Come on, baby, tell me.”
“Y-yes… I love it. It’s… oh, I’m gonna come.”
He’d never considered himself a sadist, but he withdrew his hand.
“No!” Talia shouted. “No, Pulse. Why?”
He flattened his hand against her lower belly. “Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how much you need me. Beg me for it.”
“Pulse…” she whispered. Vulnerability flashed in her gaze, along with indecision. This was hard for her. Taking over and driving him out of his mind was easy. She loved that. Thrived on it. But turn the tables, and she was so far out of her comfort zone she might tell him to fuck off, climb out of the shower, and finish herself off in the other room.
Her silence stretched. For a few agonizing seconds, he worried he’d pushed too far. Her body quivered, hovering so close to relief.
Let me give it to you. Trust me.
As though she heard his words, she met his gaze. “I n-need you, Pulse,” she whispered. “You… just you.”
Once she uttered the terrifying words, she seemed to regain her confidence. She locked her ankles behind his back and tilted her pelvis up with a sly smile.
“Make me come, Pulse. I know you want back inside me. I also know if I hadn’t sucked you so good, it’d be your cock inside me right now.”
There she was. Pride mixed with his desire. She’s just realized that despite being flat on her back begging for the pleasure she deserved, she still had all the fucking power.
He entered her with three fingers this time. It took less than five seconds to find her G-spot. He worked it until she was thrashing on the tile and mumbling nonsense.
“Pulse… Pulse…” Never had he loved the sound of his name like he did then. He could live on that sound for years to come.
It wasn’t long before her incoherent words became nothing more than moans and whimpers. Her pussy gripped his fingers as though she never wanted him to leave.
“Close, close,” she shouted as she arched her hips off his thighs, driving his fingers deeper. Her palms slapped against the wet tile, and then she was coming. What a goddamn gift it was to see this woman at her most vulnerable while she writhed with pleasure on his hand. Her pussy fluttered around him, soaking his fingers as it contracted.
“P-Pulse?” she said as she slacked against the floor, looking dizzy and tired.
“I’m here. You’re so damn incredible.”
A choked sob burst from deep within her. She scrambled off him, dislodging his fingers, and climbed into his lap. Immediately, she wound her arms and legs around him in a stranglehold. He returned the embrace, clutching her wet, naked body to him as tight as he could.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his neck.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby.” He stroked up and down her back. He’d never been a touchy person, but he wanted and needed to feel her skin as often as possible. “I was scared out of my fucking mind, but I get it. I’m sorry too. I just wanted you fucking safe.”
“Me too,” she mumbled against his skin.
One of the many reasons he was falling hard and fast for this rock star of a woman.
They stayed there, wrapped up in each other on the shower floor until the water ran frigid, and they began to tremble.
Then Pulse carried her to the bed, where they spent the rest of the day.