Chapter Nine
TAYLOR
I knew Victor would stay true to his word, which is why I never went back downstairs for dinner after I cleaned up. I passed the fuck out—the amount of orgasms I experienced nearly made me fall into a coma and there was no way I could have survived another one.
I hate to admit it but I am sore this morning.
In movies and books they make it look like the girl's vagina can take beating after beating but the truth is, it’s all bullshit.
I’m walking with a damn limp. I slowly make my way downstairs and pray they have all gone.
I have no regrets about what happened, I just don’t want them to see me like this and think their dicks ruined me, because they sure as fuck didn’t!
I just need an ice pack for my pussy or something and by tonight, I’ll be ready to go again.
I hit the landing and look around to find the coast is clear, then sigh with relief as I make my way into the kitchen to get some much needed caffeine.
I almost whimper when I see a fresh pot.
I don’t have to search through the cabinets, I could guess where they keep everything but, what I didn’t expect was to find my favorite mug sitting right in the front.
I’m a sinner…
That’s what the mug says. Trent bought it for me years ago and I have cherished the damn thing. I don’t know what it is about the mug, but I have always loved it. I smile as I grab it out—
“Morning.” I scream and toss the fucking mug into the air as I whirl around and catch my hip on the edge of the counter. I watch in slow motion as my favorite mug smashes against the floor. I stare at the tiny pieces in sadness.
“That was my mug,” I utter.
“It’s just a cup,” Trent says as he bends down and starts picking up the pieces.
“It wasn’t just a mug, it was my favorite one.”
“Wouldn’t think so since you left it behind,” he bites out as he carries the pieces to the trash and dumps them in like they mean nothing.
I stand here and just stare at Trent. He doesn’t so much as move a muscle under my scrutiny, he just allows me to take in the sight of him.
He’s changed so much, no longer looking like the innocent boy I left behind.
The man standing before me is dark and dangerous.
I have no doubt he is fully immersed in the BCB now.
“Judge all you want, Tay Tay, but it doesn’t change the fact you had a hand in shaping us to be who we are now. ”
I recoil as if he slapped me. “I never wanted this life for either of you!”
A sinister smirk touches his lips as he stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets. “This life is what we wanted. The BCB is our family, it’s who the fuck we are.”
“It’s a fucking motorcycle club, Trent.”
“The Broken Cupid Brotherhood is more than that, but you never cared enough to take a closer look.”
“What’s there to look at?” I snap. “You commit crimes, hurt people and—”
“Covered your mother’s medical bills, because her family turned their backs on her.
My father took her in even though she was the sister of his enemy.
” I see the moment he realizes he’s said too much.
His eyes widen slightly and he snaps his mouth closed.
I step forward, only for him to take a step back and hold his hand up.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I hiss.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Get your shit, we’re going to the club.” He turns and stalks off without saying any more.
My mind is reeling. What the fuck did he mean?
What rival family?
What damn secrets was my mother keeping?
I grit my teeth and forgo making a cup of coffee. I follow Trent out the door, only to slam to a stop at the sight of his Harley sitting there.
“Oh, fuck no,” I breathe out in horror.
Trent brushes past me and shrugs into his cut, making me avert my gaze from the sight of a heart with an arrow through it that’s stitched onto the back, marking them as the BCB.
“It’s a long walk. Either get that ass on this bike or walk.
” I grind my teeth. I know he won’t wait for me and the truth is, I don’t hate riding, I just hate riding bitch.
Victor taught me how to ride. The feeling of the wind in your hair on the open road is the most freeing experience and makes you feel powerful, untouchable because you’re in control of all that horsepower between your legs.
One wrong move and it could be your last. Every time you ride, you tempt fate and that shit is fucking addicting.
“My bike still out in the shed?” Trent snaps his head toward me, shock written all over his face.
“You want to ride?” he hedges.
“I’m not riding sissy with you, looking like some damsel in distress.”
He snorts. “You are though, you’re only here because you need saving.”
“Fuck you.”
“Right now?” My treacherous pussy clenches. I mentally scold the thirsty bitch.
“Is my bike running or not?”
“Nope. Hasn’t been touched in years. Get the fuck on, Taylor.
I don’t have time for your shit.” I growl and stomp my way toward him.
I don’t give him any warning as I climb on behind him, making him grip the handlebars to keep us upright.
He says nothing as he starts the bike, the loud roar of the engine vibrating beneath us.
It’s like music to my ears. I close my eyes and revel in this feeling.
It's been so long since I have felt this freedom and I hate that I denied myself this.
The ride ends too quickly. When he parks out front of the clubhouse I almost ask him to keep going, but manage to keep the words inside my mouth.
He doesn’t offer me a hand as I climb off and run my fingers through my hair.
My cheeks are wind kissed and tingling from the feeling of having it slap me in the face.
It’s fucking perfect. I don’t wait for Trent as I make my way inside.
The second I walk through the front door, everyone turns to me.
The conversations die down as they take in the sight of the runaway who turned her back on them.
I hold my chin up and allow them to gawk.
Some look happy to see me again but some look downright pissed off that I’m back.
My mouth parts on a silent gasp when Tiny stands from his seat in the back and walks toward me with a hard look on his face.
To many people he’s scary. He’s six foot six, solid muscle and covered in tattoos from the top of his head down to his toes.
His brown eyes appear black and soulless, but not to me.
When he stops right in front of me, I feel a lump form in my throat. We stand here just staring at each other without uttering a single word. He’s always been like a best friend to me. He may be one of Victor’s guys but when it concerned me, he would betray his president.
“It's been a long time, baby girl.” His gruff tone sends a shiver down my spine. Tiny barely speaks. He’ll speak to Victor freely and utter a couple words to Zav, but no one else until… me. I throw myself at him. He catches me and holds me against him.
“Hi, big guy,” I whisper through the lump in my throat.
“Taylor, my office now.” Victor’s stern tone has us pulling apart. I stare up at my friend with sadness in my eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Tis all good, baby girl,” he says with a wink and steps aside. Victor stands there looking every bit the badass president with his cut worn proudly. His salt and pepper hair is slicked back in that Jax Teller style. Zav stands beside him in a plain white tee and black jeans.
“Time to sit down with the Frondozo’s, Tay Tay,” Trent says as he brushes past me and knocks the wind right out of my lungs.