Chapter 18 – Southpaw
Eighteen
Southpaw
A nna thinks I’m crazy, but I’m not. I know my brothers are hiding something and there’s only one way I can find out.
“Wyatt, are you even listening to me?” Anna interrupts my train of thought. I was listening to her. But in the way where my inner voice happened to be louder.
“Of course, babe,” I answer, pulling her in close for another kiss. I’m lucky she offered to hang out in the garage with me tonight while I work on the bike. Although, I know she took secret pictures of me shirtless for her horny stash that she uses while pregnant.
“Ew, Wyatt, don’t get that grease all over me,” Anna replies while still leaning in and giving me an opportunity to disobey her further by groping her butt. She rolls her eyes and kisses me again.
“It’s instinct,” I reply, reluctantly letting go of her so I can continue my work on the engine.
“You always think someone has a plot against you. Remember the situation with Oske a few months ago?”
“Nope.”
I remember. This time is different. Mom won’t take my calls. Nobody has a proper explanation for why Ethan was in a therapist’s office.
I don’t believe Owen when he says Ethan must have been fucking the therapist. Does that make any sense? Why would a woman with advanced degrees crawl into bed with my brother? I suppose she could have been dragged…
“I don’t want you leaving again,” Anna admits. I look up at her from the bike. Fuck, is it possible that she gets more beautiful with each passing day? I notice things about her that I didn’t at first. Only idiots think the shine ever wears off a woman. They’re like fine silver. You polish them and keep them happy, their beauty only grows with time and the memories you create together.
I can’t imagine what I have with Anna happening with anyone else.
“You can’t come with me. The kids need you.”
“They need you too.”
“I can be better help to them if I go out there and protect this family.”
“From what?”
“Ethan’s lies… and whatever trouble he got himself mixed up in.”
“It sounds like it’s just the same Midnight SS bullshit,” Anna says, betraying that she was listening in on my call with Gideon that she swore she didn’t listen in on. Swore on the Real Housewives , I might add. I’m cutting the goddamn cable…
“They’re posers, Anna. Darragh Murray gave all the intelligence over and these men have nothing to do with the Midnight SS. They’re something else… and I don’t like it.”
“They had patches and jackets. How did they get their hands on those?”
“I don’t know. But Owen put Slitlicker in the ground himself.”
“Wyatt, Ew.”
“I didn’t choose his club name…”
But I understand the sentiment. I could never keep things from Anna. It’s too hard when she’s my best friend. Even better than Hunter, not like I’d admit it to his face.
“It could be some real bad shit,” I reply. “Someone who wants to take down the club from within.”
“They wouldn’t compromise Owen or Ethan. They couldn’t.”
“You don’t know gamblers.”
“I do, actually,” Anna says, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s so damn stubborn.
“You don’t.”
“Yes,” Anna insists. “I do. And you would never sell out the club. You would take a bullet first.”
“I did the work.”
“Okay, you’re a little further along on your journey but Ethan and Owen would both die for your club. If they’re keeping a secret… maybe it’s to protect you.”
I want to believe her, but leading the club has made me paranoid. I watched the same thing happen to dad. It’s the vigilance you need to lead that takes over and it’s hard knowing who to trust. I would take this to Hunter but… if this is a problem with either of my brothers and gambling, I can handle it easily.
Hunter has his hands full with Juliette. Shit, we all have our hands full these days. It’s funny how much it all changed since before dad died. He would shit himself if he knew the situations we’ve gotten ourselves into.
They might have been old-fashioned. They might have gotten it wrong a few times. But our fathers raised us to be good men who look after their families, stay loyal to their old lady, ride hard and fight harder. I like this new vision and direction for the club. More peace. More family time. More time in the shop fixing this bike.
Anna allows me to ponder her words while I work more on the bike with her quietly puttering around the garage organizing my stuff. I hate her organizing, but I let my woman nest if she wants to nest. She’s the mother of my children. The love of my life. I need her happy. But I also need her safe.
I finish screwing the engine cover back on and slide away from it, sitting up to admire Anna’s sexy ass as she hangs up a crowbar on the corkboard wall.
“All done?” she asks, instinctively aware of my eyes on her butt.
“Yes, Mrs. Shaw. I’m all done.”
She turns to face me and then scoots her ass right up on my workbench.
“Good,” she says. “I’ve been waiting long enough.”
Waiting for what? Instantly, she has me curious and I venture over to her, wiping grease off my hands onto the white rag hanging out the back of my jeans. They’re clean enough to touch her thighs when I get to her, and the immediate jolt of pleasure I get from touching my wife goes straight to my dick.
She spreads her legs so I can stand between them and in an instant, her lips part to kiss me. Yes… I love kissing Anna. She has the sexiest lips. Gripping her thighs gets me even harder. I want more action from her. She throws her arms around my neck, but her kisses slow down and she pulls away.
“Promise it’ll be okay,” she whispers. “Just promise.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“Our kids. Because I love you. Because this should have been over but some psychopaths tracked down Ethan. What if…”
She looks so worried. I want to fix it all for her.
“What?”
“What if they were looking for you? What if it’s mistaken identity? I can’t stand the thought of…”
“You won’t lose me. And I won’t lose you. Not yet, Mrs. Shaw. Not until the long ride is over and we’re both old and grey.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“I always miss you when you’re away from me.”
This time, we don’t stop kissing. I take her shirt off and go straight for her tits. While I grab and fondle Anna’s perfect chest, she unbuckles my belt to pull my dick out. We may have our rituals, but sex is never routine. We’ve never done it in the garage and I can’t even believe she’ll let me. Anna hooks me closer with her ankles and my heart races more intensely.
Fuck yes. I kiss her shoulders. I kiss her neck. I reach inside her panties to touch her soft pussy lips and almost unleash my load in my boxers.
“You’re so fucking wet,” I whisper. “I love your pussy so damn much.”
Once my fingers slide inside her panties, Anna bucks her hips forward to meet them. She loves this ritual, especially the way I tease her clit with my finger and slide it back down the length of her slit to coat my index finger in her juices. She struggles not to moan. I grip her thighs with one hand and find her entrance with my coated finger.
"I love how wet you get for me, baby," I whisper, kissing her neck and then her shoulder as I ease my finger between her folds and into her soaking, hot cunt. The heat and the tightness wrapping around my finger are almost impossible to withstand. I grit my teeth to stop myself from erupting like a teenager.
When I make the effort to withdraw my finger, Anna's pussy draws me back in with its soft heat. I push inside her again and rub the pad of my index finger along her inner walls, forcing a moan out of her and getting the indication I need that she wants me as badly as I want her.
"Take my dick out, baby," I whisper. I want it to sound demanding, but I'm too weak with my need for her to sound any better than a desperate man begging for my wife's pussy.
Anna eagerly slides my underwear over my ass just enough to get my dick out. I groan with pleasure as she wraps her hand around my shaft. Those healing hands are as cold as my garage, sending tingling up my shaft and spreading through my body as my dick warms her hands up. Anna uses my member to draw me closer to her.
I step between her thick, dark brown thighs and hike them up to pull her sweatpants and underwear down her thighs. She had to convince me to let her walk around with clothes that say "Juicy" on the ass, but she's right about how damn sexy she looks in that soft, hot pink fabric.
Her hot, musky scent hits my nostrils when I slide her bottoms off, and the hunger I feel for Anna takes over. I hike her thighs up and drag her to the edge of my work bench, giving me better access to her entrance.
Anna shudders as I press the tip of my dick against her entrance. Each time we fuck, she has to adjust to my size. Her pussy always feels tight, like the perfect fit was made just for me. It's been the same since I first fucked her in the Flying J a couple years ago...
She rakes her fingers through my hair and kisses me as I step forward and push my hips towards her enough to slide the tip inside her. My cock head spreads her out and Anna widens her thighs to accept the first few inches. Her arms drape over my shoulders, reminding me of how small and light she is in comparison.
"You feel so good," I whisper, nibbling on her neck. "I love giving my wife all this dick..."
She scoots her hips forward so much she nearly falls off the table. I clutch Anna's ass cheeks and yield to my urges, thrusting every last inch inside her...
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