Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JOHNNY “HAWK” MANN
Later that night, I took it upon myself to grab one of the dogs I was working on putting a scent on to the campsite. I didn’t want Bishop to know what I was doing—God forbid the dog came back with something—well, I didn’t want to be that guy.
Still, it felt necessary to scope things out. I couldn’t get a definite track on Connor, but the dog might be able to pick up something, especially if he got a waft of blood or any human remains. I was hoping he didn’t pick up on any of that, and I could go back and tell Bishop and Charlotte there was hope for their kid.
When I arrived at the site, there wasn’t any sign of the cops except for the crime scene tape that surrounded the camp, and the cabin. I didn’t want to take any chances, though. I parked about a half mile up the road and took the dog through the woods. I let him do his thing and lingered a few paces behind the animal as he sniffed around. I don’t know how long we were out there, but the dog didn’t catch anything.
I took the dog back to Booker & Mann, then high-tailed it to Jo’s. The clubhouse was packed with New Yorkers, and I just wanted my girl. I didn’t like the way she sounded earlier, and I couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in my gut that something was wrong.
Reaching her apartment, I knock on the door. It’s a little ridiculous that I don’t have a key. It would make things easier, especially on days like today—when it’s three in the morning, and I’m just getting to see her.
I hear her undo the locks from behind the door, then it opens, and my fucking chest feels like it might explode the second my eyes land on hers. Her hair is a mess, and she’s wearing a skimpy pair of shorts and a tank top that does nothing to hide her erect nipples.
A sane man would scold her for answering the door dressed like that at this hour, but I’m feeling slightly unhinged because I look at her and only one thought fills my head.
Home.
Looking at her—well, it’s as close to a feeling of coming home as I’m ever gonna get.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep as she opens the door wide, giving me space to enter. “I thought you were going to call?”
I walk inside the apartment, and she closes the door.
“Hearing your voice wouldn’t have been enough,” I say, my tone gruff as I close the distance between us. My hands fly up to her cheeks and drag in what feels like my first full breath. “I wanted to see you and feel you in my arms. Needed it really.”
I bend my head and take her mouth, my lips fusing with hers as my tongue glides out and teases the seam. As tired as she is, she responds, parting her lips for me as she winds her arms around my neck and welcomes my tongue.
My tongue wastes no time entering her mouth, and soon the kiss becomes frantic. I back her up against the wall as my lips move down her throat, sucking and nibbling on her sensitive flesh. I don’t know how many marks I’ve left on her skin, but it’s never enough.
I slide my fingers under the straps of her tank top, and pull it down, revealing her tits.
“God I fucking love your tits,” I growl, cradling them in my hands before I choose one to feast on. She moans softly as I get her nipple nice and fucking hard—sucking, licking, and biting it. Then I move to the other one and repeat the process.
She threads her fingers through my hair, holding the back of my head as I suck on her nipple.
“More,” she cries. “I need more, Johnny.”
I flick my tongue over her nipple one more time before releasing it. My hands fall to her waist, and slide inside shorts, squeezing her ass as drop to my knees.
“How wet are you right now?” I growl, letting my fingers slide between her legs. I purposely avoid her pussy, knowing as soon as my fingers slide through that slick heat, I’m gonna lose it.
“So wet,” she pants.
“How should I please this greedy little cunt? Should I fuck her with my fingers, my tongue or my cock? Or does she want all three.”
She never settles for one. The girl is spoiled by the trifecta, and I’m all too willing to oblige. I peel her shorts down her legs, and she kicks them off the rest of the way. My hands glide up her legs until they take purchase on her ass, and I pull her closer, making me eyelevel with her glistening pussy.
“Look at this beautiful cunt. So wet and ready for me.” My eyes lift and lock with hers. “Did she miss me today?”
Jo’s fingers curl into my shoulders as she squirms against the door.
“She misses you all the time.”
I drag my finger through her slit, soaking up all her arousal. Keeping my eyes pinned to hers, I circle her clit.
“Yeah, what about you? You ever miss me?”
She stares at me for a beat, her fingers uncurling slightly.
“Every minute I’m not with you,” she confesses.
Those fucking words crack something wide open, and before I can properly identify what it is, I’m on my feet, lifting her in my arms. I don’t make it to the bedroom, I just deposit her onto the couch. I shrug my kutte off and she reaches for my belt. Neither of us have patience, for me to strip down, so we free my cock and get to fucking. With my jeans around my knees, I flip her and bend her over the back of the couch, then I drive my cock all the way in until my balls slap against her ass.
“Hold onto the couch,” I order. “I’m fucking you hard tonight. Harder than I’ve ever fucked you before. Tell me you can handle it, Jo.” I thrust deep, my jaw clenching as I fill her completely. “Tell me this sweet cunt of mine can take the pounding I’m about to give it because baby, the way I’m feeling I don’t know that I can go easy on you.”
“I can take it,” she pants. “I want it. Give it to me, Johnny. Give me that cock and give it to me hard.”
That’s all I need to hear. Her fingers tighten around the back of the couch, and I hold her hips as I fuck her mercilessly, thrusting in and out, feeling her greedy little cunt tighten and spasm around me as I stretch and fill her.
Her body jerks with every piston of my hips, pushing her deeper into the cushions of the couch. Soon she’s bucking like a wild animal, screaming and coming all over my cock. My balls grow heavy and tight, and I power through, pumping my cock in and out a few more times before I go off like a rocket, coming inside of her.
Barely able to breath I collapse on top of her. Her pussy continues to constrict around my cock, milking every drop out of me.
“It’s so good with you,” I whisper against her ear. “It’s like you were fucking made for me.”
I wrap my arm around her middle and flip us over without withdrawing from her tight little body. She sits on my lap, my cock half-mast and buried inside her. My come leaking out, dripping down the insides of her thighs, making a mess out of the both of us.
I lean forward, peppering her back with kisses.
“It’s good to be home,” I murmur against her skin.
My lips reach her shoulder, and I open my mouth to suck on her creamy flesh when my eyes connect with the coffee table and the handful of pregnancy tests that are displayed on top of it.
“Jo?”
“Hmm.”
“I lift her off my lap, ignoring her protest as my cock slides out of her body, and I set her down next to me before reaching for one of the tests. I don’t know much about these things, but the little plus sign staring back at me seems obvious. I grab another one, and it’s got two lines. The third one just blatantly says pregnant.
A gasp sounds from her lips, and when I turn to her, she no longer looks like a sated woman who just got railed, but one who is fucking terrified.
I gotta say, I share the sentiment.
And I’m a man whose been to war.
I’ve watched villages be blown to bits. Seen men be decapitated. Women and children tortured and killed. Came home, joined a motorcycle club, and saw a different breed of carnage.
None of it scared me.
But this…me being someone’s father…It’s a lot to digest.
My throat feels tight, and I start to sweat.
“You’re pregnant?”
She crosses her arms against her chest, like she’s trying to give herself a hug, and worries her lower lip between her teeth. I try to compose myself and put my own hang-ups aside. I remind myself that I vowed to take care of the woman standing in front of me, and right now she looks like she wants to crawl out of her skin.
“Jo…baby…”
She uncrosses her arms and jumps to her feet, lifting the straps of her tank top back to her shoulders as she covers her tits. It strikes me as odd considering she’s naked from the waist down and the insides of her thighs must be sticky as all hell.
“This wasn’t how you were supposed to find out,” she blurts as she tries to snatch the tests out of my hand. My fingers wrap around her wrist, and she stares at me expectantly, her eyes filling with water.
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make it right. I’ve spent all fucking day and night looking for two kids that likely went missing because of their fathers’ sins. I took a dog to the woods to sniff out their corpses. How does a man go from doing that to welcoming the idea of a baby?
The longer I remain silent, the more uncomfortable the situation becomes, and Jo turns her head. Keeping hold of her wrist, I set the pregnancy tests back on the table and rise to my feet. My fingers find her chin and I turn her head, forcing her to meet my gaze.
“When did you find out?”
“This morning,” she whispers. A tear slips free and slides down her cheek, those brown eyes of hers so fucking conflicted as they stare back at me. “Katie was going on about her cramps, and I realized I skipped my period. I went to the drugstore and took a test. Then I thought maybe it was wrong, so I took a few more, but they all came back positive,” she sobs.
I swipe a hand over my face, then pull her against my chest, and wrap my arms around her.
“Shhh,” I murmur against the top of her head. “It’s going to be okay.”
I’ve never given much thought to having kids of my own. I don’t know that I’d be any good at being someone’s father, but even with that fear building at the back of my head, I can’t help but let my mind wander in a different direction, one where I get to watch Jo’s belly get big with my baby. A lump forms in my throat, but I quickly swallow it down. I can’t get think like that. Can’t get swept up in a fairytale that don’t exist.
Not when there are two kids missing.
Jo pulls back, and wipes at her face with the back of her hands. “I don’t know why I’m so shocked. We aren’t exactly in the running to be the prime spokespeople for safe sex.”
Her eyes lower to the mess still dripping down her legs. Before I can get a word out, or run to grab something to clean her with, she turns on her heel and parades into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
I should follow her. Clean and comfort her.
Tell her everything is going to be okay.
Make her believe that we’ve got this.
But my ass sinks onto the couch instead and I just stare at the tests. A few minutes later, I hear the bathroom door open, and I force myself to snap out of whatever fucking trance I seem to be in. I stand, pulling up my pants, and make my way toward her.
“I’m sorry…” My voice trails and I shake my head. “No, fuck that,” I hiss, taking her face in my hands. Sorry means you have regret, and while I’m feeling a whole bunch of shit—regret is not one of the things on the list. “I’m not sorry…I’m not going to apologize for making a baby with you, even if I don’t know what happens next.”
“You’re not?”
“No,” I say hoarsely, dragging in a deep breath. Her fingers wrap around my wrists, and we just stare at one another for a moment, before I say, “Why don’t you tell me how you feel about it?”
“I’m terrified. I didn’t think it would be like this. I thought I’d be happy. Excited.”
“And you’re not?”
“Johnny, have you looked at me? I’m a mess. My life is not ready for a baby. And then there’s you—”
I stop her there. “What about me?”
She cocks her head to the side and juts out a hip. “Do you even like kids?”
My response doesn’t come as quick as it should. I like children just fine. I’m always down to spend time with Maverick’s sons. I prefer the older boy, over the younger, because he’s more independent. I don’t have to worry I’m gonna fuck him up.
“Right,” Jo says.
“Hey, wait a minute,” I protest. “I like kids just fine.”
“Okay, well do you like them enough to want one of your own?”
It’s not about liking them, or even wanting them. It’s about figuring out how I can consciously bring a child into a world where he can be a target just because he’s mine. I don’t express that to Jo, though. She thinks I’m a vigilante hero, that my club and I do the work of the people. She has no idea that there are enemies near and far, always waiting to strike. How do I even tell her that?
I push those thoughts to the back of my head. I tell myself that they’re my fears to overcome, not hers. She’s frightened and my job is to make it better. To ease her worries.
“If I’m having it with you, then I want it.”
I might not have it all figured out, but as the words leave my lips, I realize there is truth to them.
I didn’t get her pregnant on purpose, but now there’s a baby, and its part me, and part Jo.
And I want it.
I just don’t know if that makes me a horrible human being, or just a selfish one.