26. Aimee
Aimee
Love .
One word shouldn’t be so complex. So hard to scrape from my tongue when my heart has sung those letters for this man almost my entire life.
But I can’t say it.
Not after everything else I admitted tonight.
This final wall is all I have left. The only barrier that will protect me when the time comes for me to walk away from him.
So I let my body show him how I feel instead.
I shed my secrets with this kiss. With a slip of my tongue in his mouth.
With my acceptance of his hands on my skin.
Trust.
I trust him with this body that’s been held without care.
Touched without permission.
Cut into and ripped apart.
A body I’d completely disconnected from until Levi made me feel safe enough to settle back into it .
His kiss deepens, and I twist in his lap until I’m straddling him. Knees pressed into the cushions on either side of his hips. He wraps me in his arms, and I let him be the shimmer of peace I forgot could exist.
I ride the wave of bliss. Tipping my neck back so he can kiss from my jaw to my throat.
Levi groans as I roll my hips in his lap, and when our gazes connect, for a heartbeat, I feel my worth.
I’m something to someone, when I so often struggle to even be something to myself.
There’s a chill in the night, but it’s his touch that has me shivering. His fingers crawl my bare thighs. They tease a line without going further. A silent question hangs in the air between us.
We’ve made these lines so blurry between the past and present. Between what we need and what we fear.
My answer comes with a tug on the oversized T-shirt I’m wearing. I lift enough to let it gather at my waist, but I don’t strip it off. I slide my panties to the side and pull Levi’s hand to my core, aching as he sinks two fingers inside me.
I’m coming apart.
But it’s more than pleasure; it’s a complete unraveling. Like my soul has been wound tight. Strung in this protective ball for so many years that I forgot what it’s like to let it untangle. With every rock of Levi’s hand, another thread pulls free.
Another weight shimmies off my shoulders.
I tip my head back and moan, unbound and uncaring who could stumble upon us .
It’s not like we’re in the privacy of Levi’s bedroom. On the porch, anyone could walk outside or pull up the drive. It’s a dark night, but we aren’t invisible. And as my gasp turns into a desperate scream, we’re not silent either.
I don’t care so long as this man claims me.
Reaching for his belt, I slide it from the loops. I slip his zipper down next, wrapping my hand around his stiff cock. The tension in his jaw has me tightening around his fingers.
The universe could collapse around us, and all I’d see is Levi. A man who has yet to be soured by my confessions. He cares about what happened to me but sees the real me through it.
There’s no judgment in his gaze as he slips his fingers out and lifts my body to replace his touch with the head of his cock. And while it’s my pussy that accepts him, it’s my soul I hand him as he lowers me on his thick shaft.
Levi fills me, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders. The bite of his fingers gripping my ass makes me moan. Our chests seal tight as I find pleasure in the slow grind of our bodies.
Wrapped as one.
Bathed in moonlight.
The stars hang overhead as we steal this moment.
I tip my forehead to Levi’s, and I’m lost in his eyes. My body shivers the closer I get to the peak of my climax.
It’s freeing. That precipice of a brutal cliff that is sure to plunge me over the edge. A moment of truth. Will I plummet or fly?
Levi sends me soaring.
For the first time since arriving at the compound, I take Reagan up on her offer to have coffee at her house in the neighborhood. It’s surprisingly peaceful out here. The hum of motorcycles coming and going is barely audible.
This early in the morning, the sun is just peeking over the horizon, casting a beautiful glow across the desert.
Bea follows Reagan out through the back slider to meet me on the porch with coffee, and it slams behind them.
For a split second, Reagan freezes. A splash of coffee spills down the mug and onto the patio. Her eyes widen when she looks behind her at the now-closed door, and although she brushes it off quickly, I wonder how often that happens. For me, it’s more frequent than I would like.
Trauma lingers in the smallest things.
A sudden movement.
A loud noise.
A body accidentally stepping into my path.
It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since that basement. Or how much time has passed since I was locked at the Iron Sinners compound for almost a year. Physical scars heal long before emotional ones.
“Please don’t slam doors,” Reagan finally says to Bea, who slips past her.
“Sorry!” Bea yells behind her, missing how pale Reagan’s cheeks are .
But Reagan doesn’t let it linger. She straightens her spine and crosses the patio, handing me my mug.
“It’s surprisingly nice out here.”
“Quieter than the clubhouse for sure.” Reagan smiles, sitting beside me while Bea kicks a soccer ball around the yard. “There’s an empty lot next to the one Luna and Ghost are building on. We could do this every morning if you were in the neighborhood.”
“You just want me around to help you decorate.” I glance through the glass slider, where boxes of decorations are stacked in the living room.
Christmas is quickly approaching, and it feels like we’re running out of time as Titan’s deadline looms.
“Don’t worry. Jesse made me promise I won’t hang anything until he and Havoc are back later. He’s worried I’m going to hurt myself, but I’m not even showing yet. He must think I’m completely incapable.”
“Or he’s just looking out for you.”
Never in a hundred years did I see myself defending the motives of a Twisted King. But even I can’t deny how Legacy looks at Reagan. She and Bea mean everything to him.
“You’re probably right,” Reagan agrees. “But you’re deflecting. My wanting you out here has nothing to do with decorating. Think about it. We could hang out, drink coffee. It would be fun.”
“Don’t you have Tempe and Luna for that?”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t join us.” Reagan sets her mug down, spinning in her chair to face me. “Am I your friend, Aimee? ”
“You know you are.” I take another sip of coffee.
“I don’t know that,” Reagan admits. “You keep your distance. You don’t let people in. I understand why, but it makes it difficult to read where I stand with you.”
“I’m sorry.” I frown.
She reaches for my hand. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m just asking. Because you’re my friend , and I hope someday you’ll let me be that for you too.”
“I’m bad at this.” I force a smile, unable to wash the sadness from it. “But you are my friend, Reagan. The first one I’ve had in years, if I’m being honest.”
Which is probably why I’m so terrible at it.
Reagan has done nothing but make me feel welcome, and I’ve been difficult every step of the way.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Reagan smiles softly. “I’m here if you need anything. I hope you know that. You can trust me.”
Trust.
There’s that word again.
I’m surrounded by patches that remind me of what bikers bring to the people around them, and I’m being asked to have faith. In Levi. In Reagan. I barely know how to trust myself, much less anyone else.
“I appreciate it. But still, I don’t have any plans to move to the neighborhood. I’m leaving once we find my father.”
“How does Havoc feel about that?”
“He understands.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Does he? It’s pretty clear he wants you to stay.”
“He hasn’t said that.”
“Does he need to?” Reagan challenges, and I don’t answer. “Exactly. Even you see the truth. So tell me the real reason you’re planning to leave because Havoc isn’t a valid excuse.”
“Levi isn’t the only one who makes decisions around here. This isn’t just his home.”
“More excuses.” She rolls her eyes. “And not even good ones. The guys adore you. Each and every one of them.”
“I like them, too, but it’s not that simple.”
Reagan scans my face and frowns. “They aren’t the Iron Sinners, Aimee.”
“I know that.” I really do, even if it was almost impossible to see when I first came here.
“But they’re still bikers. I didn’t want this life when Levi and I were kids.
That hasn’t changed. And even if it did, staying here and being part of this would be a betrayal of my younger self. After all the things she went through…”
“Unspeakable things,” Reagan agrees, and I’m curious how much she knows.
“But that was at the hands of another club. Not this one. These guys would lay down their lives before they’d let you get hurt.
It’s okay to admit this is different and that Havoc makes you happy.
You aren’t betraying anyone. Especially your younger self. Wasn’t she in love with Havoc already?”
“We aren’t talking about love,” I mumble.
Reagan smirks, leaning back in her chair. She must know I’m lying. I know I’m lying. But can I really accept this type of life after what I’ve been through?
“When I first came here, I didn’t think I deserved much from life either,” Reagan says. “I was so used to taking care of everyone else that it was impossible to let someone do the same for me.”
“What changed?”
“Jesse.” The smallest smile crawls up in the corner of her mouth.
I glance around at the yard, the house. “He’s good to you.”
“He is,” she agrees. “But all this…” She waves her arms out.
“These are just things. Property. Possessions. That means nothing compared to the man behind the gestures. He doesn’t just do things for me, he sees me.
He understands me. He accepts me. When he takes care of me and Bea, it isn’t out of obligation; it’s love. He helped me see that.”
“I’m happy you have him.”
“Me too.” She offers me a sad smile. “I hope you stay. Not for me, but for yourself. You deserve happiness too, Aimee, no matter who in life has made you doubt that.”
Those words sit with me long after we’re done decorating the living room. Long after Jesse walks in and complains that she didn’t wait. Long after I leave their house.
Those words stay in my mind, revolving repeatedly.
I hope you stay.
Is it ridiculous to think I could?