29. Best Friend’s Sister
BEST FRIEND’S SISTER
CUTTER
I ease my bike into a space next to an old beat-up truck at Ray’s bar and drop the kickstand.
Swinging my leg off, I flex my back and yawn.
The orange ball in the sky dips low, giving way to night.
Callan called me half an hour ago telling me to meet him here.
We haven’t been to Ray’s since killing the Larkin kid, and I was pleased to get the call.
My head has been in overdrive trying to figure out what the fuck I’m going to say to him about Kit before finally settling on asking for forgiveness, not permission.
I love my best friend and VP, would die for him, but not being with Kit is killing me.
I hope with everything in me this doesn’t change things between him and I, but even if it does, I’m not giving her up.
I’ve never been more determined than I am now.
I survey the parking lot as I walk to the entrance, taking in the few cars—no sign of Callan’s bike.
A hush falls over the room as I enter, and heads swerve in my direction.
A couple old-timers are holding the bar up and a group of women at the center tables whisper among themselves.
A girl I recognize as Ray’s niece smiles at me from behind the bar. “What can I get you?”
“Two beers,” I say, smoothing my palm over the gloss mahogany wood.
A few seconds later, she places them down in front of me, shaking her head when I try to give her money. “Kings drink free.” She nods to my patch.
I knew that, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable if she didn’t.
I’ve seen the video of her assault, and it makes me want to travel to the underworld to bring the cunt back to life so we can kill him all over again.
I wonder if she knows that the men responsible are dead and that they suffered for what they did to her.
Something has changed in me lately. I fucking care more than I used to, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Necking the first bottle, my hands tighten around the glass, and I peel the label off, flitting my eyes to the door. Where the fuck is he?
Some shitty song starts playing from the jukebox, and two women begin twirling each other like fucking idiots in the middle of the bar.
I get to the bottom of the bottle I ordered for Callan when I realize I need to piss.
I head to the bathrooms at the back of the bar, ignoring the giggles and appreciative glances.
As soon as I take my dick out at the urinal, my phone rings.
“Yeah?” I answer, balancing my cell between my chin and shoulder.
“I’m out back,” Callan’s tone is sharp before he ends the call, not giving me a chance to respond.
Draining the pipe, I shake it and stuff it back in my jeans. What the fuck is he doing out back?
Wariness settles over me like a cloak. Something isn’t right.
He knows. I can feel it in my bones. Slipping through the kitchen, I head for the fire exit and push out into the back parking lot.
Callan’s leaning against his bike, his arms folded, legs crossed at the ankles.
Dark eyes track my movement as I stride toward him.
Fire churns in my gut the closer I get, the dim glow of a street light highlighting the grim sneer on his face.
Before I open my mouth to say anything, he pushes off the bike to his full height and swings at me.
I see it coming, but let it land. His fist catches me in the jaw and almost knocks me on my ass.
I don’t defend myself, taking what he needs to deliver.
Another fist connects with my cheekbone then my lip.
My legs weaken, and my head swims, making me dizzy.
I stumble, crashing to the gravel with a thud, and spit out a wad of blood, the metallic twang expanding over my tongue.
“Kitty?” he seethes, looming over me like the grim reaper.
We’ve bickered before, but he’s never hit me with malice. “I love her,” I defend, swiping my hand across my mouth. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, making my skin vibrate.
“What the fuck are you talking about? You love her? You’ve always said she’s like a sister to you.” Tension leaks off him like sweat.
“No,” I grit out. “You always say that—not me.” Catching the breath the fucker knocked out of me, I ask, “Who told you?”
“Does it fucking matter? It wasn’t fucking you.” He kicks up a plume of dust in my direction, his hands braced on his hips.
“I was going to do it tonight,” I confess, dabbing the cut on my lip with the pad of my thumb as blood pools in my mouth from the gash in my inner cheek.
“That’s convenient,” he snaps. Turning away from me, he shakes his head, raking a hand through his hair.
“I know you don’t think I’m good enough for her, but I’ll prove to you I am. I want to be.”
Spinning to face me once more, he screws up his nose. “Why the fuck would I think that? You’ve been my best fucking friend my entire life. I love you like a brother, you fucking idiot.”
“You’ve always said you’d never want her with any brother.” My brow furls.
“You’re not just any brother!” he shouts, the sound echoing across the silent sky as he paces, his boots biting into the gravel.
“You wouldn’t have an issue with her and me?” I ask in disbelief, ignoring the throbbing in my face telling me otherwise.
“My issue is the deceit, motherfucker. You know I’ve been worried about her, and this whole time, you’re the fucking reason. I should cut your heart out of your fucking chest.”
“It’s complicated. Everything with the Carnells and Claire and Pres…” I push myself up in an attempt to stand, swaying on my feet. The motherfucker has a fist like a sledgehammer. I’m surprised he didn’t knock a tooth loose.
“You should never have been with Claire. And Pres already fucking knows. He told me.” He drives the words out with anger, his hands animated. Things have never been the same between Pres and me since Claire, but to go tattling to Callan to cause conflict seems beneath him.
“Your old man doesn’t want me with her.” I make it clear. “He’s always warned me off.”
“He didn’t want me with Rogue either.” He snorts. “How long has this been going on?”
I steady my feet and shrug. “I’ve always loved her.”
“For fuck’s sake, how the hell have I missed this?” He throws his hand up at me.
“I’m sorry, brother. I tried not to want her, but my fucking chest feels empty without her.”
“Does she want this?” He comes to a stop, the tips of his boots touching mine. His pitch-black gaze homes in on me, dissecting me like I’m a stranger he’s trying to figure out. “Is she in love with you?”
“Yes,” I say confidently, looking him in the eyes.
“You know this changes everything, right?” He jerks his head, clenching his jaw.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if shit turns bad with you two, I’ll have to break your legs, and Pres will strip you of your patch. He won’t play around when it comes to her.”
“It won’t come to that.”
“It better fucking not. If you do this, it better be the real fucking deal. This is Kitty we’re talking about.”
“I know. She’s it for me. It’s always been her.”
“Then you better get your shit straight—starting with your marital status.”
“I’m already on it.”
“Good.” He nods toward my busted lip. “I fucked up your pretty face.”
Scoffing, I smirk. “Well, I drank your beer, asshole.”
His mouth cracks into a smile, and I know we’re going to be all right.
After getting myself cleaned up and avoiding questions from every brother I pass, I came straight to Kit’s room, finding it empty.
I texted her, and she said she was five minutes away—fifteen minutes ago.
When the door finally opens, my raging heart settles in my chest. I take her in like air to my lungs, finally able to breathe.
“Did you clean my room?” She frowns, looking around the space.
It is too tidy in here. “No. It must have been Diamond.” I shrug, sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Oh my god.” She gasps, moving farther into the room, her eyes devouring the side of my face Callan took his fist to. “Who did that to you?”
“I’m all right.” I take her hand when she attempts to reach out to touch the bruising on my cheekbone. We’re both a canvas of black and blue.
“Was it my dad?” she asks, her tone riddled with contempt.
“Your brother,” I grunt. I don’t want more lies between us. There’s still so much I need to tell her.
“Callan?” she says through clenched teeth. “That fucker.”
“It’s okay. It’s done. He knows, and we’re good.”
“Wait—he’s okay with us?”
“He doesn’t like that I kept it from him but…”
She releases a long breath, nodding. “Wow, so this is really happening.”
A thousand emotions cross her face, and I squeeze her hand tighter. “I meant what I said this morning. I told Claire.” Her eyes enlarge, and her lip trembles. “You want this, right? Us?” My chest clenches at the possibility of her changing her mind.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she admits, and her words warm me all over.
Gripping her hips, I pull her into me and wrap my arms around her. Resting my face against her tits, I breathe her in. “Do you want to sleep in here tonight?” she asks.
“Fuck yes.”
Pulling back, she unzips her pants and shimmies them down her legs, exposing her creamy flesh to my greedy eyes.
Next goes her shirt. She’s braless, and the hooped jewelry in her nipples catches the light.
Saliva floods my mouth, and my dick grows against my zipper.
There’s no fucking way we’re sleeping tonight.
Sauntering around the side of the bed, she bends over teasingly and drops her panties, flashing me her juicy ass and a pink sliver of pussy.
Dark purple bruises form a pattern up her spine.
My fists clench at my sides. We should have taken a limb for every mark he made on her body. He got off too easy.
Getting to my feet, I rip my shirt over my head, my cut already hanging on the back of the door.
Climbing into the bed, she lays on her back and bites her lip. “Come here then,” she taunts with a crook of her finger.
She doesn’t need to ask twice.
Lowering myself down her body like a starving man getting fed for the first time after being lost at sea for what seems like forever, I push against her thighs, widening her legs, and swipe my tongue up her folds, tasting, consuming, and pleasuring all at once.
She’s completely bald there except for a small heart shape patch of hair she’s dyed pink.
I spread her open with my fingers and taste every inch of her.
Ravenous and messy, I feast on what’s mine, ignoring the sting of my split lip.
I nip at her clit, applying enough pressure to make her jolt.
Her moans fill my ears like music as she grips my head, urging me on.
If I suffocated between her legs, it would be a good fucking death.
Her hips buck off the mattress, fucking my face as I eat her. Wild and lost to the sensations of her body, she chases the high with me. My cock strains against the zipper of my jeans, begging for its turn.
Laying my forearm across her lower stomach, I force her hips back to the bed and use my other hand to sink fingers inside her tight hole, slick and ready.
First one, then two, I push past her folds, her warm, firm walls welcoming the intrusion.
I add a third and pump hard and fast, curling them to stroke the little bundle of nerves while my tongue flicks over her clit until she’s tugging at my hair and covering her own mouth to mute her screams.
She moans so hard, it resounds through her body into mine. Clamping her thighs against my head, she holds me hostage, riding the wave of release. She chants my name like a prayer as her juices pulse past my fingers and trickle down her ass crack and thighs.
I yank open my jeans to release my cock and glide my fingers through her cum, smothering my cock in her release as I climb to my knees and pull her hips into me until her ass sits over my thighs.
Lifting from the bed onto her elbows, she watches as I line my tip up to her entry and slide into her, stretching her out, filling her up.
“Have you missed my cock?” I groan, relishing the heat of her pussy squeezing the length of my dick.
“Yes. Fuck my pussy like you own it. Make me sore.”
“I do own it,” I growl, reaching up and wrapping my hands around her throat, squeezing just enough to tease her airways, taking care not to anger the bruises there.
My forearm rests in the valley between her tits, and I sink my hips forward until I’m buried to the hilt, my balls slapping against her ass.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Kit. You own me,” I tell her, pulling back then powering my hips forward, making us both gasp. We fuck hard, sweat coating our skin. Our bodies collide with force and accuracy.
My cock, hands, and lips claim her, marking every inch of her skin with my scent until she’s screaming out again.
Pinching her clit with my fingers, I tease her nipple rings with my teeth, giving her just enough pain to feed her pleasure, taking her to a new high.
Her pussy clamps down on my cock, draining my release, and I pull out, my cum spurting over her pretty pink flesh.
Her foot slams down on my shoulder, and she licks her lips, her chest heaving.
Smirking, she crawls onto all fours and looks over her shoulder at me. “Again.”
Fuck, I’ve missed her.