19. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Esmerelda
“Well done, Ess. You knocked it out of the park as usual,” Mr. Star says as he puts his fork down after he demolishes my cornflake tart. Despite the praise, I give him a tight smile, trying my hardest not to cry.
I’m emotional, I know this, and the longer I ice out Damian just so I don’t snap at him and scare him away, the more emotional I become.
Over the last few months, he’s become my person, and now I’m lost and beginning to think I took things too far by not speaking to him for two weeks.
Okay, so he didn’t tell me about his past. He’s shown me what I mean to him every day by how he treats me and how he welcomes my little brother with open arms, knowing I need that time with him.
Stupid damn hormones.
“Okay, class, that is it for today,” Mr. Star says, “You can go as soon as you’ve cleaned up your stations, but please remember your final grade bake will be next Friday, so practice. I don’t want to have to fail you and see you retake the course.”
Groans echo around me, but I just swallow and say, “Mr. Star.” The teacher looks my way, his dark brown eyes looking at me with concern, and I get it, I haven’t been my bubbly self and haven’t danced or sung or, more importantly, pissed off others while I baked. Giving him a slight smile, I ask, “Do you want to take the rest of these home for your kids?”
The man in his forties practically runs over before any of my peers can grab the cornflake tarts and cookies, making some curse because, yeah, they tried to grab them. He takes the whole tub and says, “Thanks, Ess,” and I grin. This time, it reaches my eyes as he practically skips away.
Shaking my head, I quickly grab the trays on my counter and put them away before putting my pad in my bag as Mr. Star puts the tub I gave him in his bag, a big grin on his face making me chuckle while some guys next to me pout and grumble about not being quick enough.
“Such a teacher’s pet, I’ll bet she’s screwing him,” Zoe says as she walks past, flicking her hair and I can’t help the little bit of anger that builds inside at her words, words I can normally ignore but this time I mutter, “I’m not you, thanks,” as I grab my bag, and she gasps, her head swinging my way, but I just shrug and storm past her.
Zoe is the typical mean girl with the short red bob and blue eyes. She used to be a cheerleader, the head apparently, or so she brags every class, and she’s also a bitch that I try and stay clear of, but when I’m feeling like this, I just can’t focus, and my anger slips out sometimes.
Honestly, it’s about time I put her in her place.
Waving bye to the teacher with a small smile, I leave the room, ignoring Zoe's glare behind me, and walk towards the exit.
I need to call Damian. I need to make things right.
He’s never given me a reason not to trust him, and I know there has to be a good explanation as to why he didn’t tell me about his family. It's not because he believes I’m a patch chaser. He knows I’m not, and he knows he’s my everything and if I’m being honest with myself, I haven’t just ignored him because of that. I just needed some breathing room after finding out I was pregnant, six weeks to be exact.
I needed time to figure out how it happened. Okay, I know how it happened, I just don’t know how it was possible. Other than the first time we slept together, we’ve worn a condom, and not once did they break, I mean, I know they’re not one hundred percent but surely my luck isn’t that crap.
Swallowing past the panic I feel building, I walk out of the double doors and descend the stairs, not looking up. Dad’s car broke down, so I loaned him mine, meaning I have to catch the bus.
Awesome.
“Oh my, my, what fine specimen do we have here?” I hear Zoe moan, but I try and ignore her and pick up my speed a little until she says, “I would bet my left tit that man is a biker,” and I look up without hesitation before locking eyes with the ones I love oh so much, and my whole body relaxes.
Wearing his usual T-shirt, jeans, biker boots, and leather jacket, Damian leans against his Harley. Watching me, and my stomach flips with his intensity.
My eyes tear, my hormones completely taking over because despite icing him out, he is here not willing to let this carry on any longer, and without a thought, I walk over to him. He pushes off his bike with a furrowed brow, focusing on me as I stop before him.
I want to jump into his arms and beg him to hold me tight, but I’ve ignored him for two weeks to try and get my emotions under control, which clearly has failed so I need to go at his pace.
“Angel,” he rasps as he looks over me, and I sniffle, “Stranger,” and I allow my tears to fall. Concern etches off him as he opens his arms, and everything seems to righten in my world. I instantly relax as I drop my bag and walk into his waiting open arms. They wrap around me as soon as my head hits his chest. I sob silently, making him hold me tighter.
“Angel, what’s happened?” he whispers in my ear, and I shake my head and mumble, “Just a bad day,” before leaning back and locking eyes with him. I sniffle, “If I’d known you were here, I wouldn’t have given everything I’d baked to my teacher for his kids.”
He grins before bending down and rubbing his nose against mine and whispers, “You can make it up to me then, huh?” he kisses my tears away, which only makes more fall despite the feeling of home consuming me.
“He’s with her, her?!” I hear Zoe snap and Damian tenses, but I shake my head and go to my tiptoes before gently caressing his lips, making him soften.
I ask, “Take me home?” as I grip his shirt.
He raises a brow, “If by home you mean mine, then yes, by all means.”
I smile a little and peck his lips before stepping out of his hold and picking up my bag. He takes it from me, places it in the saddle, then climbs on his bike and holds his arm out, which I grab instantly before climbing behind him. On instinct, I scoot up right behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and lay my head on his back, feeling at home again.
I’ve missed him so much.
Damian starts his bike, it rumbles beneath me as I watch Zoe throw a literal hissy fit, stomping her foot and everything while we drive away. I can’t help the little bit of delight that brings me, and I close my eyes, holding Damian like he’s about to disappear.
“You going to tell me exactly what upset you when I picked you up?” Damian asks, and I swallow hard as I gently trace the lines of his abs.
We’ve been back at his place for probably about twenty minutes, and I haven’t spoken to him, but to be fair, he hasn’t spoken to me either. When we returned, he removed his shirt then my jeans and pulled me over to the couch. He made me straddle him, and that’s where I’ve been since.
I know I need to tell him about the baby and that we need to decide what to do about it, but I just don’t know how to say the words.
Will he think I’ve trapped him like he thought I used him?
Will he want me to get rid of it?
Will he want to start a family with me?
Do I want to keep the baby?
My dad said I should just rip the band-aid off, and he’ll surprise me, but I’m scared.
What if I have the same complications as mom?
What if I die and leave my child motherless, or worse, Damian finds someone else?
Blinking, I decide to divert to give me some time. I ask, “Want to tell me why you left your club?” and he sighs, seeing right through me. The best thing about him is that he allows it.
He admits, “The club was my whole life,” I look at him, locking eyes. Pain shines through him, and I hate it. Instantly, I want to take it away, but I know I can’t.
You can’t take away the past, only learn from it.
He continues, “I was going to become Ace’s vice president when I turn twenty-five.” My eyes widen in shock, and he smiles, “Ace is known as Bullet, while I was known as Jokester.”
I smile and state, “Because you love to joke around.”
He hums as he runs his fingers through my hair and murmurs, “Which only seems to come out now that you are in my life.” My heart melts and hurts at the same time at his words, and he sighs, “All I wanted was to make my father proud, but when I was sixteen for the first time, I was ready to say no to him and Butcher when they told me I had to date Bethany.”
My eyes widen, and I ask, “Ace’s sister, or well, Bullet’s?”
He nods and replies, “Yeah, growing up, she had a thing for me, something I never entertained or encouraged, but she wouldn’t stop. She started causing shit to get attention and ended up blackmailing her father to force his hand,” he swallows, “I never touched her romantically, never kissed her, and didn’t allow her on the back of my bike, something only you have had the privilege of by the way.”
I smile at that and then ask, “So, why did you agree to date her then? Was it because of the blackmail or your loyalty to the club?”
He scoffs, “I went to turn them down and tell them to go to hell, but they used my place within the club as collateral if I declined, including the roof over my head.”
“What? You were sixteen!” I snap, and he shrugs and says, “They didn’t care. I only agreed thinking it would be a few months but two years went by and I was still stuck with her. Butcher even ordered an old lady cut for her from me and had the club convinced she was my one when she wasn’t. I threatened to tell the club everything if he didn’t back off.”
Holy…
“So why did you hang up your cut then? Is it because you couldn’t be with her anymore?” I ask, intrigued.
He smiles sadly as he runs his fingers up and down my bare thighs and admits, “She caused a lot of crap with Scar when we were eighteen, jealous at the attention she was getting, giving me a chance to end things, but the day we met, you know, the day you called me out on my shit,” I smile as he gives me a sly grin then continues, “Butcher threatened my cut again and place within the club if I didn’t give her the old lady patch. I took my cut off and told them to go to hell. The only reason why I work at the shop and why I live here is because Hammer is the majority owner. Come next month, I’m looking at starting at a new shop three towns over. I just have to find somewhere else to live.”
I sigh and shake my head as I mumble, “What idiots,” making him chuckle as he grips my hair, and we lock eyes.
“I love you, Essy,” he says fiercely, and I suck in a breath at his sincerity. He admits, “I meant it that day in the bakery, and I mean it now. I never should have accused you of being someone you are not. I allowed my insecurities because of the club to cloud my judgment when I saw my mama at the bakery. I am so, so fucking sorry,” he places a peck on my nose as my tears swell, and he whispers, “You are my everything, my whole fucking world, and I can’t live without you. These past two weeks have been hell not hearing from you, and I don’t want to go through that again.”
I sniffle as a few tears fall, and he wipes them away. Instead of declaring my love back, I blurt, “I’m six weeks pregnant…” And his thumbs pause on my cheeks while I keep my eyes on the tattoos on his chest, the angel wings over his heart with my name in the middle of my focus.
When in the hell did he do that?
“Look at me, angel,” he demands softly. Slowly, I lift my head until our eyes lock. “You’re pregnant?” he confirms, and I nod once and admit, “I found out that morning before I kicked you out.”
He nods, his eyes racing between mine, and mumbles, "Well, that explains kicking me out and two weeks of silent treatment."
I narrow my eyes at his accusation of my hormones being the cause of me icing him out even though he is right, I was overly emotional, not that I’d admit that to him but he ignores my look and asks, “And how do you feel about it? I know this isn’t planned, and I know we’ve been using protection, so this must be a shock.”
More tears fall, and I babble, “How are you so calm right now? I’ve had two weeks to try and digest it, and I’m still freaking out, yet you’re calm.”
He smiles as he cups my cheek, wiping away the tears, and admits, “I’m calm because I know I love you, and I know whatever you choose, I’ll be standing beside you every step of the way, and I won’t judge what route you decide.”
“I-I think I just need time to think,” I confess, “I don’t know if I can have this baby. I’m scared what happened to Mom will happen to me, and I just –”
My words trail off as he lifts my chin and says, “I love you, Esmerelda Jacobs, and we’ll get through this together. You hear me?”
“Are you sure?" I whisper, and he smiles and replies, "Together, we can get through anything," and my heart skips a beat.
Damn.
I nod and declare, “I love you too,” and he smiles before pressing his lips against mine, and I melt, instantly opening my mouth for his tongue before it tangles with mine, and I moan at his taste.
I have missed him so much….
Damian slowly moves his hands to the t-shirt I’m wearing – his – and I lift my arms before breaking the kiss. He removes it and then throws it on the floor and before locking eyes with me, he unclips my bra and frees my breasts, and cups them. His thumbs gently running over my peaked nipples, making me gasp and rub against his jean-covered crotch needing friction.
“I want you,” I admit, and lust radiates from him as he moves one hand between us. I lift a little as he grips my panties and pulls hard, tearing them from my body, while he gently rubs my nipple, he slowly runs a finger through my juices. I move my hands between us and undo his jeans, pulling his zipper down before cupping his rock-hard cock, his veins bumping over my fingers, and my mouth waters.
Licking then biting his lip, Damian enters two fingers inside me, and I gasp as my walls flutter, my juices flooding his hand already before he pulls out, making me instantly miss him and squeeze him.
He smirks as he puts his fingers that have just been inside me at my lips and demands, “Suck,” and I listen. I open my mouth and take his fingers before licking and sucking them clean, making his cock twitch in my grip as I gently stroke him. He moans as I position myself over him, using my hand to guide it to my entrance, I lower myself onto him while still sucking my juices off his fingers.
“Fuck,” he groans as I bottom out and he quickly removes his finger from my mouth and kisses me, our tongues tangling. I moan and move my hips up and down, swiveling, while he gently tugs and rubs my nipples, making my clit throb.
“Damian,” I gasp as I break the kiss when he thrusts up, meeting me each time, hitting my g-spot, and groaning says, “I need you to get there, angel…” Before he moves one hand between us and rubs my clit.
“Oh god,” I shout moaning loudly, feeling my stomach tighten and my eyes begin to blur. Damian starts to thrust faster as he grips my hip and slams me down each time he thrusts up while rubbing my clit hard.
“Come for me, Essy, come now,” he growls, his chest rumbling against mine and I throw my head back as he pinches my clit hard when I thrust down, and I explode and squirt all over him, and he moans, “Fuck yes,” and ruts before stilling, his seed filling me up.
Once he’s emptied inside me, he grips my hips and moves us so my back is on the couch, his cock still deep inside me, and I giggle, making him smile as he lays his body over mine. My legs are wide to make room for his hips, not wanting to lose the fullness of him deep inside me before my fingers go to my name over his heart, and I trace them.
“I told you, angel,” he rasps, and I look at him, “You are my everything, and I hope you're not tired because I plan to spend the rest of the night inside you.”
I smile and whisper, “I love you,” and he replies, “I love you too.”
He kisses me hard and deep before keeping his promise and stays inside me all night long, even after we fall asleep in the early hours of the morning.