Chapter 10 #2
“Are you sure?” she whispers. “Can’t a girl convince you?”
My eyes snap open as her hand slides to the back of my neck.
She’s on her tiptoes now, her breasts pressed against my chest. She gently tugs me closer, but I resist, leaning back slightly.
She grins, her eyes twinkling with a dangerous glint that should have me running, but instead, I’m holding my breath . . . waiting.
Her free hand runs up the front of my kutte, her nails tapping against the leather. I catch it, stopping right before she touches my face again.
“This shit . . . it has to stop, Siren.”
A smile tugs at her lips. “Your mouth says one thing, but your body is saying the opposite,” she says, her tone low.
“How long’s it been now, Pres?” Her hand travels back down despite me holding her wrist. She brushes my cock, and her smile widens to a knowing grin. “See? You want this as much as I do.”
I shake my head, ignoring the fact my cock is solid, betraying me.
“You came to find me,” she points out, pressing her hands to my shoulders and shoving me back. I drop onto the couch like lead. My legs too unsteady to hold me up. She wastes no time clambering on my lap, grinding against me and pressing her tits to my face.
I turn my head, focussing on everything but the way her body feels warm and inviting. Get your shit together.
“Get the fuck off me,” I mutter, “This ain’t happening. I came here to tell you to back off. Stop getting in my face at every opportunity.”
She ignores me, acting like I haven’t said shit, and grabs my hands, placing them over her breasts.
She closes her eyes, letting a gasp slip past her plump lips.
I find my eyes drawn there, my erection straining.
She grinds harder, and the heat from her pussy burns through my jeans like an unwanted fire.
“We all see you’re unhappy right now, Drifter.
” Her cheeks are flush with need as she moves again, another sigh escaping.
“Don’t you think it’s about time you put your own needs first?
” she asks, placing her hands back over mine, encouraging me to pinch her nipples.
“Fuck, Drifter,” she pants, “you’re the President of the Broken Iron Demons.
You shouldn’t have to explain yourself to anyone. ”
I snatch my hands away, and she stills. For a second, I see a flicker of fear there, but as quickly as it came, she shut it down.
“Take what you want because you can,” she murmurs.
I growl in frustration, my hand darting out and grasping her throat. And there it is again, that flicker of panic.
ROCHELLE
I’m still holding the pregnancy test and staring down at it with a huge smile on my face. I was expecting more heartache, yet here I am, my heart full and my mind in complete shock.
“Holy shit,” I whisper again. “This is it.”
Red laughs. “Girl, we need to get you ready.”
I watch as she pulls open the wardrobe.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“We need to get you looking like a fine piece of ass, so when you tell Drifter, he can remember this moment forever.” She smiles. “There’s no way he can stay mad when he hears this.”
She pulls out a dress, holding it up to examine it before shaking her head. “Too plain,” she says to herself, placing it back on the rail. She pulls out another, seems to think it over, but again shakes her head. “Too slutty.”
Bella slaps a hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh. “Have you looked in the mirror today?”
Red looks down at her own outfit then shrugs and goes back to picking my clothes apart. “I’m not about to tell my hubby he’s gonna be a baby daddy.”
She selects a yellow summer dress from the back. It was a total impulse buy that I’ve never worn but I fell in love with. The knee-length material is perfect for summer, not too short but not ridiculously long either, and the straps cross over at the back.
“Perfect,” she says, laying it on the bed. “This gives off the right vibe, sexy but mumsy.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly overcome by emotion. I know I’ve been a fucking nightmare recently, yet these two have stuck with me through it all. Not judging, not yelling, they’ve listened and been patient, and even when I’ve been in the wrong, they’ve had my back.
I grab my phone to check my earlier message to Drifter. It sits unopened, and disappointment crushes me.
“He’s not seen my text yet,” I say, dropping it back on the bed.
“It’s fine. Get ready and go find him,” Red tells me. “He can’t be far.” She pushes the dress into my hands and points to the bathroom.
I run my hand over the dress, glancing back over my shoulder one last time. The girls are watching me like proud parents as I open the door to go find my man.
You got this.
As I get to the lounge, ‘What’s Love’ rings out from the jukebox. And despite it being busy, there’s no sign of Drifter. Even his seat by the bar, which he often occupies lately, is empty.
I go to the office, knowing that’s probably where he’s hiding, more than likely nursing yet another bottle of whiskey.
I sigh, turning to find Hazel heading my way with a crate of beer.
“Hey, have you seen Drifter?”
A sheepish look passes over her face before she mutters, “He was heading to the dorms last time I saw him.”
And then she scurries past me like she can’t wait to get away.
I stare after her, my brow furrowing. My heart is racing now, and there’s a small burn of anger starting in my gut.
The icy temperature that wraps around me as my heels click across the landing matches my mood perfectly. There is only one reason any man would head to the dorms. There’s only one reason Drifter is down here, and deep down, my gut already knows what I’m about to walk into.
Music is blaring loudly from behind the door. My hand rests on the handle, but I pause for a moment to gather my composure.
A loud, deep moan hits my ears. There’s no mistaking it.
I’ve heard it a million times myself. I grip the handle tighter.
I could walk away, pretend it’s not happening.
Plenty of women live like that, but I’m not like that.
I can’t live a lie. I won’t. I will not stand to be treated like second best. I won’t be my mother.
“Holy shit, Pres.” The shriek of her scratchy voice bounces out the room, ricocheting off every single wall.
I glance down at the hand pressed to my stomach. It was a subconscious move, but one I know is my heart telling me to protect my little one.
I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and push the door open.
For a second, everything around me feels like it stops. Like the world screeches to a halt, refusing to turn.
Drifter is lost . . . his jeans around his ankles, pounding into Siren, who’s face down on the pool table. He’s so deep in the moment, he doesn’t realise he has an audience.
But Siren . . . it’s like she senses me. Her head turns in my direction, and her eyes land on me. For a second, I think she’s going to tell him, but instead, a slow, smug grin spreads across her face.
I grip the doorframe, my heart shattering. This bitch is fucking my husband, and she grins like it’s amusing her.
I can’t hold it in any longer. I let the anger rise from my toes and spread through me like a disease. I clench my fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. “Are you fucking serious?” I scream.
Drifter’s head snaps in my direction. He stops thrusting, his jaw dropping in surprise. Then he looks back to Siren, staring down between them like he doesn’t quite understand the dynamics now I’m in the room. And then he stumbles back, shocked.
“I said, are you fucking serious?” I grind out again, stepping further into the room.
He scrambles back away from Siren, pulling up his jeans in a hurry. He looks horrified, like the train wreck transpiring around us is news to him too.
I move with grace, closing the gap between us. His eyes find mine, and I see the guilt there, hiding amongst the shame. I pull back my hand and slap him hard. The sound cracks through the silence, and the sting in my palm is nothing to the pain in my chest right now.
How could I be so stupid? All this time, I believed him when he insisted there was nothing between him and Siren.
I turn my attention to her, noting she hasn’t got an ounce of remorse or self-respect. She’s still naked, jutting her chest out like she’s fucking proud. And her eyes are alight with what I can only surmise as satisfaction.
She twirls her hair through her fingers, staring right back at me like she hasn’t just helped rip my life apart. She opens her mouth to speak, but before her words can piss me off further, I grab her by the hair and drag her towards the door.
She screams, trying to scratch at my hands. “Let go, you fucking crazy bitch.”
I pull harder, feeling the roots snapping, gaining satisfaction knowing it’s hurting her.
“Oh, I promise you, princess,” I say with a cold laugh, “you ain’t fucking seen crazy yet.” She scrambles behind me, her feet slipping on the tiles as she tries to keep up.
I hear Drifter’s heavy boots rushing after us. “Hell,” he shouts, but I ignore him.
As I get to the lounge, people begin to turn, and then the room falls into silence, all eyes now fixed our way.
“Hell,” Drifter bellows again, and I hear his boots slow as he realises the room is packed out.
I drag Siren to the centre, her hair still wrapped in my tight fist, her fingers still trying to claw free.
I turn to Drifter, whose eyes are darting around like he’s waiting for someone else to put this fire out.
“Oh, all of a sudden you wanna fucking talk?” I spit, tipping my head to the side. “I don’t think so. You’re a little too late.”
I release Siren, shoving her to the floor before dropping a clump of her hair at her feet. She tries to stand, but I don’t hesitate, lifting my leg and kicking her in the face. “Stay the fuck down,” I yell.
Her nose bursts, and blood sprays through her fingers as she tries to contain it. “You bitch,” she screams. “You broke my fucking nose!”