Chapter 32
Maddie
I was ready to jump Cook by the time Mel, no Lanie, pulled her Mini Cooper up in front of the house. She said she wanted to be called Lanie, so I needed to change that in my brain. It made sense to me though. We’d both become different people. Different from when we were kids, and certainly different than when we’d been apart.
Through all of this, I realized she loved me. She shared what happened to our parents, and it brought out a lot of guilt. I’d spent hours locked in my room scratching on paper again until bodily functions called. When I stepped out to pee and caught sight of Cook’s room with one of his T-shirts folded on the dresser, it reset something inside me. I had taken the papers out to the incinerator behind the house and burned them all.
Somehow, the process seemed to free me from worrying over Mom and Dad’s fate, and I focused the rest of the night on my work in the dark room.
And as for Lanie, I thought I loved her too. I just needed to figure out how to live with that and be a sister, but I would get there. When, I didn’t yet know, but I would.
Lanie was giving me a look, and I waited by the door. My thighs were wet, heat clawing up my body. I had kept my promise to Daddy to stay wet and touch myself while thinking of him. With how Lanie watched me now, I was beginning to dry. A breeze drifted up my skirt, replacing the heat with coolness.
Cook kicked the passenger door open, holding his side, and my whole body narrowed in on him. I ran down the porch steps and practically flew into his arms, stopping just short of jumping on him and wrapping myself around his body. Instead, I hooked an arm under his, steadying him. The man I’d met at the mill and who’d shaped me. So much had changed. He was a little weaker and leaner when he stood. The gunshot wound pained him more than he let on.
What an idiot. Of course, he wouldn’t be ready for me yet.
“I’ll say it one more time,” said Lanie, walking around the front of the car. “You should be back at the recovery house. Doc didn’t think you should go.”
“Doc doesn’t know everything,” grumbled Cook, stepping toward the house.
I kept my arm around him, and Lanie took up his other side. I could tell he wasn’t trying to lean on either of us. He was moving slower, hesitating at the steps on the front porch.
“Do you want to go back?” I asked, scared to take him inside. “I don’t think I can help if something goes wrong.”
“No. I’m where I need to be.” Cook took a step up the porch, and Lanie and I were there at his sides to catch him if he fell. Though, if he did fall, he would likely take us with him.
By the time he made it into the house, he was huffing and puffing. His face was pale and sweat glistened on his forehead. For so long, he had taken care of me, and now, I needed to take care of him. Though I knew he hated it, I helped him toward the bedroom, Lanie on our heels. So much for alone time.
“Angel will be back from LA tomorrow,” said Lanie, and Cook flashed his gaze up to her like he didn’t know he was gone from the Ridge.
I ground my teeth, not wanting to deal with MC business right now.
Lanie continued, “He mentioned something about Wilde calling church tomorrow too.”
“Yeah, that’s the Prez’s prerogative,” grumbled Cook as he sat down in bed. “Think I’ll call in horny.”
I giggled, but if I had anything to say about it, he wasn’t getting back to club business for a long time.
My arm was still hooked around his waist, and he almost took me down too. As much as I wanted to be on his lap, I knew he didn’t like me to do that when others were around. And he still needed to recover before he could bear my weight too.
“Why would you need to go back to church already?” I asked.
Cook thinned his lips into a grim line, but Lanie answered, “Something with Don Parisi.”
He shot her a look. “Is Angel telling you this?”
“I’m a former DA and almost an FBI agent,” said Lanie with a hint of smugness. “This shit is kinda my thing.”
Cook grumbled as I stooped down to his boots, taking them off. My smallest touch left him hissing through clenched teeth. He even groaned in pain. I checked over my shoulder at Lanie, wondering if she would say something about him going back to the recovery house. But Cook wouldn’t be moved, even if I begged.
“You should probably rest,” said Lanie to Cook. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks.” Cook gripped his side, and while he looked like he was about to argue, he slowly leaned back in bed. I helped prop up his pillow and bring the blankets up to him. As I bent down, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close, whispering so only I could hear, “The sheets smell like you, baby girl. Did you do what I wanted?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Heat burned my cheeks, and my core throbbed hungrily. It was wet and hot. I had touched myself and wanted him now, but I couldn’t take that while he hurt like this.
“You gotta keep it going for a little while longer, baby girl.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s my girl.” He kissed my neck because it was all he could reach, and another groan slipped from his body.
I pulled back before it got too bad, or I couldn’t help myself anymore. My distance might’ve only been because Lanie was over my shoulder.
“We’ll be outside,” I said, and Cook nodded. I closed the bedroom door behind me.
Out on the porch, I handed Lanie a mug of tea. She had brought over a few boxes for me to try and have. Cook would want his coffee, but at least the tea didn’t churn my stomach or burn my nostrils. The tea, though, didn’t calm me either.
However, the desert that stretched far and the curve of the canyons—all of this space and even further—was mine and Cook’s. This was calming, especially as the sun hit the rock at a slanted angle, setting it on fire. I wasn’t scared of what hid in the shadows now. A breeze blew the shrubs and cacti, and a tumbleweed rolled by in the distance.
After taking a long sip, Melanie set her mug down on the old iron table between the two chairs. She leaned back, and the chair creaked. Everything about this place was old, but we were slowly restoring it and making it home. Cook and I were creating a life here, taking back what was once stolen from us. We couldn’t rewrite our pasts, but we could draw our futures and build what we wanted to be.
“This would’ve been dangerous for Mom and Dad when we were kids,” murmured Lanie, eyeing the bushes and the land. “They lost us so many times in the house and the backyard when we were playing in our grandparents’ house.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I don’t really remember that.”
“We were so young,” said Lanie, acting like she was so much older than me when we were only minutes apart. It was just because we had seen different shit. I didn’t have the standard growing up experiences, so she clearly still thought of me as the twelve-year-old girl who was taken from our bedroom.
My sister took a sip of her tea and let out a sigh. “I only remember, because for months after you disappeared...” She looked at me sideways, probably judging if I’d freak out. “I kept looking in all the hiding places you used when we played hide and seek. We both always wanted to hide. Mom and Dad, thinking they were so smart, played too, but we knew all the good spots. We really freaked out our parents, and even Mom insisted we check everywhere when, well, you know.”
She shrugged.
I sipped my tea to fill the void of what I was supposed to remember. Flashes oozed back into my mind, but I didn’t know if my mind was filling in the blanks based on her descriptions or if they were actual memories. Whatever they were, they seemed so far away.
With a sigh and her nose pointed into her cup, Lanie said, “I’m sorry, Maddie.”
“For what?” I asked.
“Well, I should have seen how you and Cook were helping each other.” She chuckled.
I took a sip of minty green tea and let out a heated breath. I wasn’t certain what she meant, but my daddy always knew how to make me whole, what to offer to make me feel safe and loved and free from all the cages I’d ever known. He took my impurities and replaced them with something that showed love.
“Angel and I don’t always have safety in our, um...” She peeked at me, obviously gauging what to say. “In our alone time, I guess you could say.”
“What? You’re not safe?” I sat forward, worried.
“Oh, that’s not what I... I’m sorry. Did you know that Angel was there too? At the mill. When he was a kid.”
I faced the orange cliffs in the distance, not wanting to think about all that. But now that she mentioned it, I furrowed my brows, thinking back to my early years there. There had been a boy with a white spot in his short hair.
My eyes stretched wide as I started to hear and understand how they found us and why. “Oh, shit, Lanie. I’m so sorry.”
My sister shook her head. “I’m fine and he’s good too. But there are dark times we have to deal with too. I have to help him deal. It’s not what anyone would call ‘normal,’ but it’s us. I get that you and Cook need what you found at Serenity to help cover up those dark moments.”
I sipped the tea again, surprised that she actually did seem to understand. But I didn’t want to dwell on it with her. In a small voice, I said, “I think we need to create new memories now.”
Melanie held her tea but didn’t drink. Her eyes were glossy like she was stuck in the past.
“I know I hurt you when I didn’t want to see you after Signora,” I said.
“Oh, Maddie—”
I held up my hand, cutting her off before she could really begin. “I know what I did and,”—I sucked in a deep breath—“I’m sorry about that. We both know I wasn’t in my right mind. Hell, I’m still working on discovering what my right mind is. Honestly, though, I wasn’t thinking about you.”
“You shouldn’t have been,” said Lanie. “You were just trying to survive. And for how long I searched for you... for all the work I did to put myself in a position to find you, I just had this picture in my mind of me being your savior.”
I chuckled. “Not Cook?”
“He wouldn’t have been my first choice,” said Lanie slowly, “but I didn’t really know him then. He’s a good guy. I’m happy that you’re happy.”
“I’m very happy.” I sipped my tea, no longer really tasting it. “I don’t know how to explain why Cook over anyone else, but it’s his presence and his voice and his body and just. He reminded me of when I was safe, once upon a time. It’s just everything about him. It goes beyond physical. He gives me space when I need it and holds me tight when I need that too.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” she said.
“But you want one?”
“I did.” She cringed. “Yes, at the time, I definitely wanted answers.”
“It’s kinda like a photograph with Cook. He’s the image of something set in stone, but with the right eye, you can see the story behind him,” I offered.
Lanie leaned forward, looking over at me. “I think that artsy eye of yours is connected to what you saw in him. Your photography is stunning. Maddie. I’m so proud of you.”
A smile tickled my lips. “You still don’t see it how I do.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” She took a deep breath. “But I don’t have to. And after what I’ve seen with you two, I’m kinda thankful for small mysteries.” She laughed into her mug. “That sounded like a fucking cliché.”
I knew what she was talking about, though. The Daddy–baby girl thing we had going on. I couldn’t even explain that; it just felt right. It was all the same—the feelings when I first saw Cook, the fear when he was shot and nearly died, the need to leave the MC and Mafia stuff behind.
I never could leave him. Or live without him. Even if I tried.
“I have an appointment with Ava tomorrow,” I said, offering that up as an explanation to fill the silence. “We’ve actually planned out a bunch of therapy sessions.”
“That’s great, Maddie,” said Lanie. “I think she will really help.”
“You know, in case the BDSM doesn’t?”
Lanie snorted tea through her nostrils, and I laughed. Once she recovered, she mumbled, “Too much information.”
“I thought you wanted to know more about me.”
“Not about that.” She wiped her face with her jacket sleeve. I hadn’t thought to bring out any napkins for us.
“Oh, come on.” I laughed. “I’ve got so many other things to tell you. Would you like to—”
“Nope.” Lanie hopped to her feet, leaving the mug of tea on the table. “I think I got the gist. I’ll leave that to you two. Just don’t run him too hard. He’s injured.”
I laughed and pushed to my feet too.
With my arm looped through hers—this I remembered from us being kids—I walked her out to her car. She almost wanted to leave too quickly, scared that I might bring up more about our sex life.
Daddy needed his rest. I, however, was so wound up after keeping myself close to the edge for so long, I really needed his cock. My thighs rubbed against my sensitive lower lips.
“Thanks for bringing him back to me today,” I said. “This house has been lonely without him.” Even with the other people here all the time.
Lanie bobbed her head. “I feel the same way when Angel is gone. I never thought I would be the one to pine over a man. Guess it’s weird how everything has changed.”
I couldn’t even imagine. How did one go from being a DA to being an FBI agent to riding on the back of a bike with an MC member on the other side of the law? She had been so worried about me and wanted to know my story, but now, I was desperate for hers.
Before my sister turned to the car, I wrapped my arms around her and brought her in for a hug. She was frozen, hardened, and I cringed for pushing her so far out of her boundaries. She hadn’t even seen it coming. But then she wrapped her arms around me too, pulling me close. Our chests heaved together, and my chin rested on her shoulder.
A memory sparked to life in the back of my mind of the many times before that we hugged, mostly when we were kids. Our parents made us hug it out every time we were assholes to one another. The previously forgotten memory made me smile.
I pulled back, and Lanie slowly let me go. “It was nice to see you,” I said.
“I love you, Maddie,” said Lanie.
“I love you too.” I didn’t need to force the words out. “Next time, let’s do a girls’ night. And you can tell me all about Angel.”
Red covered her cheeks. “We’re going to need lots of wine.”
“Looking forward to it,” I said.
I wasn’t sure if that was true, but she didn’t give any hint that she wasn’t. She waved before she got into her car and tore away from the house down the dirt road.
Night was coming in too quickly, and I hadn’t heard a stir from Cook. I even checked on him a few times, and thankfully, he breathed. When he did wake, he would be hungry, so I prepped for dinner.
He would want home cooking, something hearty and covered in butter and grease. Something that wasn’t great for the body but good for the soul. I started to fry up potatoes and made sure the meat was cooking in the oven. He would want it red and juicy.
“You look too good like that,” growled a voice behind me.
I tried not to jump, but I did laugh.
Facing Cook, I said, “You should be in bed.”
With his shirt off, he leaned against the doorframe to our bedroom. His side was bandaged, and his sweatpants hung low around his hips, revealing that perfect V that dipped lower. There was a bulge in his gray sweats. He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring, and I knew he was scenting my weeping pussy. I had kept myself hot and wet for him.
“You should lean back over the oven,” said Cook. “Shake your ass like you just were.”
I smiled at him, liking the idea, but if I did that, I was sure he would come up from behind me and fuck me senseless. As much as I wanted that, I didn’t want him going back to the recovery house tonight.
“Why don’t you go back to bed, and I’ll serve you when dinner is finished cooking?” I asked.
Cook smirked. “Only if I get you for dessert.”
Fire bloomed in me, and I rubbed my thighs together, feeling myself dripping and ready for him.
“Thighs apart,” ordered Cook.
“Daddy,” I moaned.
“Now, baby girl.”
I stepped apart, feeling like my hips ripped sideways. My thighs no longer touched, and my pussy breathed. The hotness seeped down my lips.
Cook dragged his eyes down me, narrowing his gaze on my waist. Like he had a superpower to see through my clothes, he found my pussy and then stroked it with his eyes. I shivered. The tension tightened around my stomach. He licked his lips, and fuck, I almost came just from watching how much he wanted me. I knew what that tongue could do to me. Had done to me. The bulge in his sweatpants grew thicker.
“I’ll never finish dinner if you look at me like that,” I murmured. “And you need to eat.”
“Trust me, baby girl, I plan on eating until we’re both sated.”
“Daddy,” I said scandalously.
“Fine.” He tilted his head up and looked at the walls, and I turned away.
I had followed his orders when getting the house ready for his return. He wanted more art hung. More pictures and painting. While the old walls had been painted over to freshen up the house, it was like he wanted every wall covered by us. He was reclaiming his childhood home as his own, piece by piece. He would take the old wood and brick, and he would make art from our lives.
“Your art is nice,” he murmured softly, like all the air had been stolen from his lungs.
I checked over my shoulder just to make sure he was still breathing properly.
“You have delectable taste,” he continued.
A small giggle erupted from me. “Is this your way of warming me up?”
“No. I know you’re already ready for me.” The floorboards creaked like he was nearing, and I shot him another look over my shoulder. He raised his hands in peace and stepped back. “I can smell you from here.”
“Maybe I should just eat the meat myself.”
“If you’re hungry, my sausage is ready for you.”
My pussy clenched, but I shook my head at him. He was my undoing, and if he kept at it, I wouldn’t be able to resist.
“I want you to prepare a meal for everyone at the club tomorrow,” he said, and I straightened up quickly.
“You normally do that for them.”
“Yeah, but I’ve taught you some stuff.” He winked at me. “Plus, I want them to see the art on our walls. And I want to show off my ol’ lady.”
A lump formed in the base of my throat. “Are we making it official?”
“No one has questioned it.”
And why would they? Cook had gotten his dick licked before, but he had never brought anyone home. He didn’t let other women ride his motorcycle. He didn’t love women, but he loved me.
His smirk bloomed into a smile, and he licked his lips again. He was undressing me with his eyes. With me slaving over the stove and his food, I needed my clothes for protection.
“Go back to bed,” I said.
“Is that an order, baby girl?” he asked with a challenging light in his eyes.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He beamed but strode back into the bedroom.
With a heavy sigh, I finished cooking dinner and then set up two plates piled with food. He would need more food than me to regain his strength.
When I walked into our bedroom, I nearly dropped the plates. He had taken off his sweatpants, and his cock was erect, head pointing toward the ceiling. His long shaft was thick, the head purple and dripping with precum. His body was bare, minus the bandages across his wound. He gave me a stoic grin that said he knew exactly what he was doing. I forced my thighs apart, yet my inner walls clenched.
“You need to eat,” I said.
He held out his hand, and I gave him the plate. He started to eat as I stared at his cock. Saliva filled my mouth, and I swallowed.
“There,” declared Cook, placing the plate on the floor.
I eyed his plate. “You ate like two bites.”
“Saving room.”
“You need to keep your strength.”
“Can’t I just eat dessert first?” He licked his lips.
I stood out of his swiping range, or he would already have his arm around my waist and me sprawled across his bed.
“What if I want to eat?” I asked.
He looked down at my plate of food, but we both knew that wasn’t what I meant. His smirk turned into a smile, and he leaned back on the bed in full. “My pretty little sausage slut?”
“Yours, Daddy. Always.”
The pillows raised his shoulders and head. He would watch my technique, but I had come a long way since my first blow job.
“Take off your clothes,” ordered Cook.
“Daddy,” I warned, “your stitches.”
“I haven’t seen you in such a long time, baby girl. Show me.”
I took off my T-shirt—his shirt, actually—and skirt I’d used to hide myself when he came home today. I had wanted him to rip the clothes off my body. Instead, I let them sink to the floor and stood naked before him. He dragged his gaze across me, and goose bumps pimpled my skin in the wake. When he had gotten the look he wanted, he snapped his fingers and pointed to his cock.
Kneeling beside the bed, I sized up his length. My eyes had always been bigger than my stomach, but I dropped my jaw, anyway. I dragged my tongue across the length of his member, and it answered accordingly. His hips raised, and I realized just how much control I had over him.
I placed my mouth around the head of his cock and then bobbed up and down. He moaned, fisting my hair and keeping me steady. I couldn’t open my throat at this angle to take him fully inside, so I used my hand around his base too. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock and lingered on the sensitive spot on the underside of the head.
Cook released my hair, and I took his cock further into my mouth. I took him in as far as I could, and then I stretched my throat, pushing myself to take him deeper.
His fingers prodded open my entrance between my legs. With Cook’s cock in my mouth, I glanced at him. His long arm worked, muscles stretching, as he slid his fingers across my pussy lips. It was enough to make me come now. Almost. I had been desperately waiting for him. He slid his hand up and down my slit, but he didn’t play with my clit. He didn’t enter me. What a bastard move.
Then Daddy brought his fingers to his lips as I worked his cock, and he licked his fingers, tasting me. I hollowed my throat and pushed my head down onto him, taking all but the last inch. But then he gripped my hair and pulled me back.
“Ride me, baby girl,” he ordered.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I wanted his cock more than I wanted breath itself. My lungs had burned for oxygen when I’d been fucking him with my mouth, but I wanted him deep in me any way possible.
I crawled up to his body and was about to swing myself over him and sink down like I was back on his motorcycle, but then he shook his head. He swirled his forefinger around, motioning that he wanted me not to face him. But I needed his eyes.
“Daddy?” I asked.
“You’ve been a bad girl,” he said. “You need to be punished.”
Following his order—and hiding how a thrill of excitement pounded through me—I turned away from him. I swung my leg over his waist and then sank down onto his cock. Fuuuuuuuck. The head of his cock slid between pussy lips, and I opened further for him until I was seated on his member. I stretched to accommodate him, and he waited beneath me.
“Am I in, baby girl?” asked Daddy.
“Yes.” The single word came out breathless.
“Are you comfortable, baby girl?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Are you scared?”
I thought for a second, but even though I wasn’t looking at him, I was fine. All I thought of was him and how he stretched me so perfectly.
“No, Daddy.”
“Ride me, baby girl.”
And I did.
Rocking back and forth, I moved myself on his cock. My knees dug into the bed, and I was hunched over, propping myself up on his thighs. I raised myself up and ground myself down, using his cock to take my pleasure. I was so close to falling to pieces—just the touch of him, the feel of his body alive and moving inside me, almost shattered me—and then he slapped my ass.
Pain spiked across my backside, heat clawing at my skin. I hesitated on his cock, releasing a deep breath.
“Baby girl?” asked Cook. “Do you have something to say?”
Not my safe word. I moved on him again, leeching my pleasure away from him.
Daddy slapped my ass again, but the pain was dull. The heat spread out just as quick, only for it to wash away in the building pleasure. He slapped my ass again because I was such a bad girl. Insolent. Challenging. Wanting. I needed to be punished.
“I’m going to come, Daddy,” I warned, having to slow myself on his cock before tipping over the edge.
Daddy slapped my ass again. The pain flew across my backside, and I moaned. Pain and pleasure mingled, and I was about to shatter.
“Come, baby girl,” ordered Daddy, and then bent his knees as he thrust up and deep into me, devastating me in the best way possible.
My orgasm came as a tidal wave, churning into a maelstrom. I continued to rock on his cock, milking him, but I was falling forward. My arms had turned to jelly, but his knees held me there. I practically melted onto him, falling into my climax.
Soon, Daddy was pumping up into me. His movements became fast and wild. I tried to reach back for him, but he slapped my hand away. I wanted to say, “Come in me, Daddy,” and wanted him to fill me with his seed, but Daddy slipped his cock from my pussy and exploded onto my ass cheeks and lower back. He bellowed as he came, almost shocking me into another orgasm.
I sucked in a deep breath, still waiting for him, and he slid his hand between my ass cheeks, touching my puckered anus. “That’s a good girl,” he murmured softly, and my heart thudded. “Come here, nizhóní. Lay with me.”
Crawling up to his chest, I laid my head down over his steady heartbeat, listening, and Cook wrapped his arms around me. I fell asleep.