Chapter 24 #2
She backs up until the sofa is behind her, and she has nowhere else to go. “You had me, and you threw me away. You’re the great and powerful Midas. Everything you touch turns to gold. Except for me. You turned me into trash and discarded me like I was beneath you.”
I wince at her caustic words, her pain evident in her voice. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care.”
“Liar.”
I’m so close now I could reach out and touch her, but something tells me she might rip my finger from my body if I did.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, and honestly, I don’t care. I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want you.”
Her words slice me open. I have to look down to make sure I’m not bleeding all over the place. “I earned that. But that’s okay, I’m willing to put in the work to make you love me again.”
She starts crying, and it takes everything I have not to snatch her up and pull her into my arms.
“No. You don’t get it. Not everything is about you.
I’m past caring what you want or wondering what I can do to make your life better.
I’m tired, Midas. Tired of you, the club, this life.
I’ve spent months crawling on my knees toward a future I can be proud of, and you want to drag me back because it’s better for you?
Not just no, but fuck no. And fuck you.”
This time I do move. I was prepared for her tears, not so much her anger, but I can’t say I don’t welcome it. She’s like a fucking goddess when she’s spitting fire at me. I slide my hand into her hair and anchor her in place. “I love you.”
“No you don’t,” she chokes out, her tears flowing freely down her face. “You love you. You’re only here with me now because it’s what you decided you want. It has nothing to do with what I want. It never did.”
I lean my forehead against hers, trying to absorb all her pain. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” I repeat over and over until she starts shaking with fury.
Eventually, she starts thumping my chest with her fists, arguing with me through her sobs. “No. You don’t love me, and even if you did, you don’t get to come into my life now and expect me to bow down to you just because you’ve had a revelation.”
“I don’t need you to bow down, Legs. I just need you to let me in,” I shout. She hits me harder and harder until I grip both of her wrists as she crumples and gives in to her sobs.
I catch her before she hits the floor and pull her into my lap on the sofa like I’ve wanted to do from the second we got here.
I feel her heartbreak in every broken sob and hitched breath that catches painfully in her chest. I don’t know how long I hold her for before she falls asleep against me.
For the first time in months, I feel at peace.
I’m loathed to move her, but she needs some rest. She’s lost weight she didn’t have to lose, and I saw the dark circles under her eyes that she’s tried to hide with makeup.
I move her until she’s firmly in my arms, then get to my feet and carry her into the bedroom.
I pull the covers down with one hand before laying her gently on the clean sheets.
I slip her sneakers off and put them in the closet before I slip my fingers into the waistband of her sweatpants and ease them down her hips, tossing them on the chair in the corner.
I take in the legs I’ve missed so much and picture them wrapped around my waist as I plow into her.
I adjust my cock and stare down at the woman I love, knowing I have to make her mine. Nothing else will do.
I strip out of my cut and hang it on the hook behind the door before kicking off my boots.
The T-shirt and jeans come next. It isn’t until Legs’s phone drops on the floor that I remember I have it.
I light up the screen and see she has a few missed calls.
Wondering who the heck is calling her at this hour, I type in her code, knowing she wouldn’t have bothered changing it.
The number is simply listed under Boss. The guy is clearly worried about her, but what really pisses me off is finding out that Legs is staying with this guy.
I grit my teeth. If I turn it off, this asshole might call the police station.
I send a message telling them not to worry, I’m safe and will explain everything tomorrow.
I turn the cell off and slip it into the inside pocket of my cut.
I debate leaving my boxers on but decide, fuck it.
I’ve come this far, no point pretending now I’m something I’m not.
Once I’m naked, I move around the side of the bed. As carefully as I can, I remove her hoodie and tank top underneath, leaving her in just a thong. I grab my knife from my cut and slice the thing off before shoving it back in the pocket along with the thong.
I slide in behind her and pull the covers over us as she rolls away from me.
I fit my front against her back and throw one of my legs over hers so I’ll know if she moves.
I wrap my arm around her and cup her heavy breasts before gently guiding my hand down to the swell of her stomach.
I rest my hand there and swallow hard as I feel a flutter behind my fingertips.
I’m not a man prone to tears. I was born and raised in a generation that believed men should be men, but I swear I have the inexplicable urge to cry right now.
I thought I finally knew what home was when I became a member of Raven Souls MC, but I was wrong.
This is home—my woman in my arms and a mini-Legs resting against my palm.
Capone was right. This baby might already have a father, but that doesn’t mean that it can’t have a dad too.
I’m good at being part of a team. Maybe if there are two of us, we won’t fuck it up.
Not that Legs would let us. She’s gonna be a natural.
I breathe her in, feeling myself finally relax. I let the worry and fear from before wash away, knowing I’ll have to deal with it all tomorrow. For right now, all is right in the world.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I doubt I’ll ever forget waking up, not when I can feel Legs’s slick heat wrapped around my cock.
She moans and pushes back into me. She’s not awake.
If she were, she’d be kicking my ass. But clearly, she needs this as much as I do.
Instead of pulling out like I probably should, I ease back until just the tip is inside her, then thrust back in.
She groans again, making it impossible for me to think rationally.
I cup her breast and tweak her nipple as I fuck her at a slow and leisurely pace like we have all the time in the world.
I know the exact moment she wakes up because she tenses.
I take that as my cue to stop going easy on her.
I fuck her harder, my grip tightening on her hip hard enough to leave fingerprint bruises.
I like the idea of leaving my mark on her.
I growl and sink my teeth into the spot where her shoulder meets her neck.
With the snap of pain, her reservations go out the window and she spasms around me, coming with a hoarse scream and triggering my own release. I continue fucking her as I fill her with my cum. Once spent, I lean down and press a kiss to her shoulder, feeling her shiver as I ease myself out of her.
When she doesn’t say anything, I roll her toward me and feel my heart crack at the sight of her tears.
“Oh shit, no. Legs, don’t cry.” I wrap her in my arms, and she doesn’t fight me.
For a few minutes, it’s silent, apart from her sobs, before she pulls back. “Why do you do this to me? Do you hate me so much that you get some kind of sick kick out of playing mind games with me?”
“What the fuck? No, that’s not what that was.”
“Then what was it? I wake up to you fucking me like we’re a couple and I’m supposed to just be okay with it?”
“I woke up inside you. You were thrusting back against me.”
“And the big bad biker couldn’t stop me. I’m pregnant, you idiot, that means I’m horny a lot. I can’t be held accountable for what I do when I’m sleeping. But you don’t have that damn excuse.”
“Course I do. My woman is pregnant, that makes me horny too.”
I know immediately that it’s the wrong thing to say. If looks could kill, I’d be a burning pyre of ashes right now.
“I am not your woman, and if you hadn’t undressed me, this wouldn’t have happened,” she snarls as she gets out of bed and storms off to the bathroom to clean herself up. I lie back and groan. This is going to be rough.
I get out of bed, stare at my dick that’s still wet, and feel myself getting hard again. I grab my phone from my cut and fire off a couple of messages, wincing when I see Havoc has called too before texting.
I message Kruger first and tell him I’m okay.
I’m back at the apartment, trying to catch a few ZZs after a long night.
Next, I scan Havoc’s message and curse when I see he’s coming home today after hearing the news that I’ve been arrested for stalking.
Well, at least I can calm him down on that front.
I’m good. I didn’t get arrested for stalking. I was taken in for questioning, and they let me go without pressing charges. It was all a misunderstanding. However, I didn’t get back until late, so I crashed. I still need a few more hours of sleep before having to deal with everyone’s questions.
Shit, I didn’t mean to write an essay.
I shove my phone away and look to the bathroom door with a frown. It’s awfully fucking quiet. She wouldn’t try getting out the window naked, would she? Not on the second floor. I hurry to the bathroom, not putting anything past her, and find her hunched over the toilet, throwing up.
“Ah, babe.” I reach for her hair and pull it back from her face until she has nothing left to throw up.
“I’m fine. Midas, just leave me alone.”
“No,” I answer. I search through the vanity until I find a washcloth. I run it under the faucet before wringing it out and using it to press against her rosy cheeks. “This normal?”
She shrugs. “For me, yes.”
We sit there in silence, both completely naked, and yet the whole thing feels natural somehow.
I stand up and turn on the shower. “Take a shower. I’ll make you something to eat.”
“I probably won’t keep it down.”
“You still need to try. I’ll make you some toast. Keep it simple.”
She nods reluctantly. I hold my hand out to help her up, but she ignores it and struggles to her feet herself.
“So fucking stubborn.”
She flips me off and climbs into the shower, yanking the curtain closed between us.
I sigh, giving her that as I quickly wash up and head out.
I get dressed in yesterday’s jeans and T-shirt, take my cut out to the living area, and place it over the arm of the chair.
I make toast in the kitchen, pour a glass of orange juice, and place it next to her plate as she walks out in her sweats and T-shirt.
She sits at the counter with gritted teeth, pinning me with her stare. “Where is my underwear?”
“You couldn’t find them? Huh, weird.” I smirk as she takes a bite of her toast, eying the juice as if it were poison. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and place it on the counter in front of her.
“It’s not weird when it’s a fucking habit, Midas.” She takes the bottle and drinks half of it.
I lean over the counter and soften my voice, needing her to know how serious I am. “I took one scrap of lace. I know that’s a creepy move, but I saw it on top of your washing and couldn’t resist. I didn’t take the rest.”
“Bullshit. Not even I can be unlucky enough to have two stalkers.”
I don’t deny being a stalker. She knew I was around, even if she didn’t see me. We’ve always been attuned to each other that way. “I’m sorry, Legs, but it wasn’t me.”
She stares at me, frowning, before her face pales, and she slides the half-eaten toast away. “You were arrested at my apartment.”
“I was arrested next door, and I didn’t say I wasn’t stalking you. I said I wasn’t the only one. Whoever they are, they’re good. I’ve not caught anyone else watching you, but then my sole focus is always on you.”
She rubs her hand over her face. “How did my life turn out like this?” she grumbles. “What about the jackass next door? Have the police found him yet?”
“No, and they won’t.”
Her eyes widen a fraction as she immediately understands what I’m saying. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“He threatened you. No, he was a threat to you. What if he tried something when I wasn’t around? What if he couldn’t get to you and took his rage out on another woman?”
That shuts her up.
“Still, Midas, he hadn’t actually done anything yet. He didn’t deserve to die.”
“Whoops.”
She blinks before standing up and pointing at me. “No, dropping a plate is a whoops. Forgetting to take the trash out when it’s collection day is a whoops. Killing someone in cold blood because they hurt my feelings is not a fucking whoops. It’s murder.”