Chapter Twelve – Angela
Chapter Twelve
Angela
I heard the door open the next morning while Willa held me tight. Gray came into the room, standing at the foot of the bed. I glared up at him and he jerked his head toward the bar, before leaving. I crept out of bed to follow him, leaving Willa still sleeping.
“I came home early to see you—and check in on her. Is she okay?”
“Do you actually care?” I snarled at him.
His eyes pierced me. “More than you know,” he growled low.
The bar was empty, except for the two of us.
He got himself a drink, and had the gall to offer me one.
“I can’t have you disrespect me in front of my men, Angie.
Ever.” His voice was quiet. Half the strip-mall was full of make-shift Pack member living quarters, like a Nevernever Land for the motorcycled insane.
“Then take me somewhere where I can disrespect you, because I have some disrespecting to do,” I quietly hissed.
His eyebrows rose but he opened up the coat room to toss me a helmet. “Gear up.”
On the back of his bike, clinging to him, it was easy to remember all the reasons I’d fallen for him.
Being here felt wild, the wind ripping through my hair, the rumbling of a metal beast between my thighs—but Gray made it safe.
Plausible, really, that it was me, here, doing this, on some crazy adventure I’d embarked on with my best friend a year ago.
His shoulders blocked the worst of the wind and he was doing all the driving—all I had to do was hold on.
He took us away from Vegas entirely, out and up, for over an hour, until the sun was overhead and we were on a barely paved road winding up a mountain, between massive trees.
“Where are we?” I asked, after he pulled over and I hopped off.
“The Farm. Part of it.” He took off his helmet, and half-leaned, half-sat on his bike. “Feel free to disrespect me now,” he said, giving me a smirk.
I drew myself up in front of him, drawing my anger quickly to hand. “How dare you hit me. And how dare you play games with Willa—and the baby. Your baby!”
He nodded, his face a closed book, watching me. “Is that it?”
I looked around here, trapped, with no way home but him. “No. It’s just—why would you let us get involved with you if you weren’t going to take us seriously?”
His brow arched. “You think I don’t take you seriously? Angie, you have no idea how seriously I take you—"
“Because you never tell me! Or Willa! What goes on up here, what happens on all those other business nights—"
“I’m trying to keep you—to keep our family—safe.”
“From what?” I shouted at him. He closed his mouth around whatever he’d been about to say next and looked wounded. “Jesus, Gray, if you can’t tell me the truth now—how long do you think I’m going to stick around to listen to lies?”
“I don’t enjoy lying to you!” he shouted back. “I don’t want to. But I have to. There are some things you’re just not meant to know!”
I’d started crying somewhere, having scratched through the scab of my anger into a deep depressive well. “Why’re you always holding back from me? What—what changed?”
“Angie,” he groaned.
“We used to be so close.” I walked over to him, trying to see the man I wanted there. “It seemed like everything was going to work out and—I don’t know, did I grow up? Did you pull away? Or…both?”
“I never pulled away,” he said, even as he took a step back.
“You did!” I protested. “After—once Willa got pregnant—you did. She’s felt it too.”
His eyes clouded, as if in pain—like someone was twisting a knife in his side. “If that’s the case, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You both mean the world to me.”
“It doesn’t feel like that anymore, Gray. It feels like,” I said and started shaking my head, disbelieving that I ever could’ve been so dumb as to believe us three would work. “Like you don’t trust me. Or her.”
“Baby,” he said, staring down at me, mirroring my head shake with his own. “I don’t trust anyone.”
It stunned me to hear the truth at last—but it was true, wasn’t it? Why he kept us at an arm’s length, even when we were close enough to fuck. Willa and I—we might as well have been in love with a ghost.
“But I want to,” he said, softly. He took a step over and put a hand out for me. I stared at him, measuring him with my eyes, then I took it, letting him pull me close, to hold me.
“Do you mean that?” I murmured into his chest.
“I do,” he said, stroking my hair back as he held me possessively.
All around us silence reigned—we were in the middle of nowhere, the only sound a distant birdsong. I rested my head against his t-shirt, where I could hear the beating of his heart.
I wanted it to beat for me.
His hand came up and took hold of my chin, pulling my mouth towards his.
I went with the movement, rising up on my toes, wanting to taste forgiveness on his lips and feel honesty from his tongue.
My hands rose to encircle his shoulders, to pull his head further down to me, winding my fingers in his hair.
His head pulled back, and his lips left mine, kissing my nearest wrist instead.
“Angie,” he whispered.
“Yeah?” I whispered back, both of us close enough to share the same breath.
“I have to have you,” he said, setting his forehead against mine. “Please. Now.”
I couldn’t remember another time when he’d asked. “Yeah,” I breathed back, and felt his hands fall to my waist.
After that, it was a dance to see how quickly we could take our clothes off, while still touching one another.
I was working on my shirt and bra when he picked me up, himself half-naked, carrying me into the woods beside the road, leaving the bike and our boots behind.
He found a field of spring clover behind a tree and put me there, unbuckling his jeans while I squirmed out of my shirt and tossed it aside.
Once his jeans were pushed down far enough, his cock came out, as eager to feel me as I was to feel it.
His body bent over mine and I ran my hands up the muscles of his stomach and over his shoulders, lacing my fingers behind his neck.
“This is the way I want to be with you, every night,” he said, staring into my eyes as I spread my legs for him, and I could already feel the tip of him pressing up and in. And as he bent his head down to kiss me, he pushed in and began to thrust.
I wrapped my legs around him, my heels against his back—now that he was in me, I wanted to keep him there.
His hips pulsed against mine, pushing me back into the soft dirt, and I made little whines in response, as his cock found its home inside me.
Other than that though, we were quiet, just the soft sounds of fucking and being fucked.
“You’re so good to me, Angie. You and Willa both. I never would’ve imagined—that I could feel like this,” he crooned with each new stroke. I closed my eyes and rolled my head back, feeling him inside and out, as he finally said all the words I wanted to hear. “I don’t want you to ever leave me.”
“I won’t,” I whispered, catching a fresh hand in his hair.
“Promise?”
“Yeah,” I breathed.
“Good. Because I am going to keep you—right—here—" he said, then started pumping hard, and I cried out, in surprise, but also in recognition. This was the Gray that I’d fallen for, the one with overwhelming strength, who knew what he wanted to take. “I just—need to do this—I need you Angela—all of me needs you—and I’ve waited—so long,” he growled, and then arched his hips in on a thrust. I felt his body shudder over me like it had a hundred times before, as he spilled his cum so deep—and then an entirely new sensation, as parts inside me were spread wide.
“Gray!” I shouted. He covered me with his body, his elbows on either side of my shoulders.
“Go with it, Ang,” he whispered hoarsely in my ear, still stroking slowly, deep inside. I knew he’d come, but he was still hard, and I was so tight.
“What the—" I began, fighting panic.
“Shh, shh,” he whispered, catching my head in his hands, staring into my eyes. “I love you, Angie.”
“I—I—" I began, pinned on the ground, helpless, with a mountain rocking over me and between my legs. “I love you too,” I confessed, because it was true.
And inside me, his cock—always at the ready, no matter how many times Willa and I drained it—seemed impossibly hard, and thicker besides. Was this what’d happened with Willa at the Farm, during their orgiastic night? I brought my feet back down to push off the ground and into him.
He groaned and started stroking faster, the majority of him always inside me. “Yeah—that’s good.”
It was. The way he rose over me, the new width of his cock, even if it was all in my head—all of my nerves felt shiny and tight, like a string ready to be plucked. Then he leaned down and licked my left breast. A jolt of power ran through my body to my hips.
“More,” I demanded—and he caught my nipple in his mouth, looking up at me as I writhed beneath him.
His tongue stroked my nipple and, “More, more, more,” I begged.
He chuckled into my soft flesh and bit me gently, leaving me gasping, as my hips started taking what they needed from his cock.
His head rose, letting the stubble of his beard graze across me, and then he went for my other breast.
“Oh—oh Gray—" I cried, beseeching him. His hips made feathering motions above me, my pussy stretched wide, so sensitive, just about to be set off—“Yes!” I shouted, disturbing a curious flock of birds overhead.
“Yes!” I shouted a little more softly, bucking up and around his hard cock, the weight of him catching my thrashing.
He growled in satisfaction, I could feel his chest rumble against mine.
“Good,” he said approvingly. “My turn now, but don’t worry, you’ll get more,” he promised—and I did.