TWENTY-FIVE
Throttle
The past week of having Tequila live with me has been unbearable, but not because she's an awful roommate. That part is great. To see her lovely face daily is a gift. The issue at hand is that I can’t touch her. I won’t allow myself to, and I’m pretty sure she’d want to chop my fingers off if I did. But it's hard to resist when she wears those skimpy sleep outfits and her enticing ass cheeks are visible each time she reaches up into a cabinet. I considered turning the air on, hoping it’d get cold enough to put on some damn clothes.
Fuck. I’m in trouble and was running out of reasons to escape when my cock becomes hard.
I'm thankful she’s less angry with me for everything. Sometimes her sassy lip drips from her sexy mouth. Maybe it’s because I forced her here against her will. Could be that. Though, if she can stand being near me, she doesn't hate me.
“Throttle. Did you hear me?”
No, I was too busy dreaming about your pussy and my cock slipping inside.
A low growl escapes me as I watch her lips conform to the mug's rim.
Her eyes widen and she bites her lip. “Um.” She clears her throat, setting down her cup.
When towering over her and leaning against the counter, I glimpse at her tiny tank top and her breasts that are barely supported.
“Your phone has been ringing nonstop.”
Bullet called with texts.
Since we placed the tracker, the van has remained stationary. I find it surprising that they haven't searched for it yet. Or they’re fucking with us.
Bullet: Still nothing.
Bullet: Those fuckers haven’t moved.
Damn.
It couldn't be that simple.
“Hangout with me today,” I blurt out. My mouth speaking before my brain.
“Throttle I—”
Our hands meet, and I can sense the electricity between us.
“Please. Like old times. I miss you.” Miss her so fucking much.
“I miss you too.” She sighs, staring into her coffee. “But it can’t be like before. At least not right now. A lot has happened and I’m not ready to go back there with you.”
Is this the sensation of having your heart ripped apart and stomped on? I deserve every bit I do, but damn how I still crave her.
I'm acknowledging that I may possess traits of a psychopath.
“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am, Tequila.”
Beg. Beg like you’ve never begged. Grovel.
“I know. But I also have to protect myself from you.”
I wince. No. This—this is what it was like to get your heart ripped out. She doesn’t trust me. I had the responsibility of being her best friend, her defender, her sanctuary, but I made a huge mistake.
She continues. “It turns out you were right. That being together was an error on both our parts. I need time to heal, I suppose.”
I'm left standing there like a complete idiot as she gets up to leave. I can’t speak but should say something. Anything, but there’s nothing. I’ll try to give her space. Even if it kills me.
Tequila
Sure. Saying no to spending time with Throttle took every fiber of my being, but I did it, and I’m proud of myself. Just because it was Jules's wedding/baby shower, I still would have turned down the invitation.
Definitely would have said no.
Ugh.
I brush my teeth, shower, curl my hair, and change into a long fall dress that slightly hugs my body.
As I walk downstairs, Throttle’s on the phone. Probably talking to the guys. Lost in conversation, his gaze meets mine, and he freezes, examining every inch of me from waist to cleavage. His stare makes me want to ignite. When he looks at me, I feel like the most gorgeous woman on Earth. One look from him is enough to be powerful and debilitating.
His Adam's apple moves, suggesting that the dress is making him sweat. Good. It’s clear he’s attracted to me, but I want him to have it all, not just the physical aspect.
I say goodbye with a single wave and when I reach the pavilion for the party, I'm in awe. It’s breathtaking. Trees across the lake have completely transformed for fall. Tables and chairs overlook the water, and the small gazebo is adorned with elegant balloons and sunflowers, giving it the ambiance of a small-town romance.
Angel waves as she continues taping up what’s left of the banner that reads: Congratulations, Lil Mama.
I imagine how Jules's wedding will appear when spring arrives. It makes my stomach fluttery. Many tears are going to be shed.
“Here.” Angel tosses me a balloon. “Start blowing.” She smirks.
I roll my eyes. “Venom kiss you with that mouth?”
“Well, duh. He wouldn’t want it any other way.”
I laugh, shake my head, and give Maggie a warm hug. “It looks incredible. Jules is going to be so excited.”
As I bring in more chrysanthemums and observe the small hanging baskets, I realize this is only a glimpse of what lies ahead for next year.
“Ugh. I just might cry and it’s not even the wedding yet.” Maggie fans at her eyes.
“I think we all will sob,” Angel chimes in.
There's nothing more romantic than when your good friend marries her childhood sweetheart.
I contribute by placing the centerpieces, which feature yellow flowers, on every table.
“So, have you murdered him yet?” Angel nudges me with her elbow, handing me another centerpiece.
“Who?”
“Mr., my intention is to keep you safe from my Yada Yada bullshit. Believe me, I've experienced it. It’s easier when they admit defeat and confess their undying love.”
Maggie smiles while tying a bow to a chair. “They’re all the same. These men. Thinking they know what’s best for us.”
Both speak from their own experiences, but mine is different. At least I think it is.
“I’m still angry at him for what he did. He had no right to save me. I didn’t need saving.”
Maggie and Angel exchange glances.
Angel sets down a flower jar. “Why didn’t you ever tell me where you were living? It was obvious something was up but didn’t want to pry. I should have pried.”
“It’s not that big of a deal. I wasn’t homeless and was perfectly fine.” Partially true.
“I get it.” Angel lays a hand on my shoulder. “But I won’t lie and say I’m not happy you’re out of there. Shacking up with Mr. Sunshine turned grump is a bonus.”
“Grump?” I ask.
Maggie laughs. “The worst! I’ve never seen him so moody. Boy has got it bad.”
Huh. He has been more grouchy than normal, but before I can ask more about it, Charger drives up with a pregnant bride-to-be. With his help, she gathers her long, white, flowing dress and her hair, falls over her shoulders. Her beach waves and delicate floral tiara make her resemble a genuine princess.
“Oh my God. Everything looks amazing!” Jules wipes the tears off her cheeks, and we gather in for a hug.
“You can’t cry. You’ll ruin your pretty makeup.” Angel sniffs, getting us just as emotional.
“You cannot tell a hormonal pregnant woman not to cry. I cry all the stupid time.” Jules laughs, wiping another tear. “You girls are the best.”
“Great. Now we’re all crying.” Maggie snatches a tissue off the table. “I knew we were going to need these.”
A throat clears behind us. “Ladies.” Charger nods. “I hate to interrupt the emotional circle, but I wish to say goodbye and give a hug to my soon-to-be wife.”
We move apart, wiping our cheeks, and he embraces Jules, planting a kiss on her forehead. Then he gets Chloe from the backseat, and she comes running.
“Let’s party!” In the wind, Chloe's pink dress flows as she twirls in a circle.
I pick her up and spin with her. “Yes! It’s time to celebrate.”
“Don’t forget! Bring flowers after. It’s tradition,” Jules tells her fiancé.
“I won’t forget, pretty girl. Have fun.” Charger, six feet plus, squeezes into their family SUV and drives off.
“All right. Let’s eat. I’m famished.” Jules heads for the food table.
“Before the guests arrive?” Maggie quips.
“This little guy waits for no one.”
“We’re still going with a boy?” I ask.
“Oh yeah, even if Charger wants to wait and have it be a surprise. I’m feeding a muscled baby in here.” Jules pats her belly, then tosses an avocado cucumber in her mouth. “Besides.” Mid chew she says. “I feel it in my soul. This kid is a boy.”
“Regardless of the baby's gender, we are thrilled to meet him or her,” Maggie says and couldn’t agree more.
“Me too.” Chloe claps. “I want a little brother.”
“And you will be the best big sister ever.” I bop her on the nose, and she giggles.
We have played the games. People have consumed the food. And Jules is on her last gift, holding up the adorable onesie that reads Biker in training . We laugh with added awes.
“Don’t tell Venom I told you, but it was his idea,” Angel says, grinning.
“I knew he was hiding his soft side.” Jules laughs and I’m always fascinated at how accepting she is of him, considering what had happened with him and his old President. She was kidnapped, and he had a partial involvement, despite his aid in her rescue. Such a weird situation, but she has a kind and forgiving heart.
Jules says her goodbyes to Lisa, her high school friend on FaceTime. She couldn’t make it, but promised she’d check in.
As Jules unwraps her last present, we fall silent at the noise of something in the distance. The sound of motorcycles makes the hairs on my neck stand up. While it may go unnoticed by ordinary people, we are vigilant of threats. There's always an uncertainty when you're part of a MC.
With bated breath, we watch in silence as they approach, growing nearer. As three bikes emerge, we patiently wait for them to pass by.
When someone slows down, another person also slows, and my heart beats faster. They park, swinging their large thighs off their seats, and my stomach sinks.
Not here. Not today.
Angel, Maggie, and I exchange a worried glance.
“Come on Chloe bug, let’s go to the lake and see if we can watch some fish.” Jules's mom takes her by the hand, leading them away from trouble.
“Okay!” Chloe skips with her, to what is a safe enough distance. Just in case.
The bikers rest against their motorcycles, smoking and casting a menacing glance in our direction. I can’t see their cuts from here or what club they’re from, but they don’t look familiar.
“Are you kidding me? On the day of my shower.” Jules gets up, getting ready to throw down.
“No way, Gi Jane. Sit.” Angel points to the vacated seat.
“Ugh fine. But if I wasn’t pregnant, I’d kick some ass.”
“Sure, honey.” Maggie pats her shoulder. “Think we should send an SOS to the guys?”
“Maybe they’re just taking a smoke break? Stretching their legs,” I suggest, but knowing damn well that isn’t the case.
“I’d say no to the smoke break because they’re walking this way.” Angel sets a hand under her cut, assuming she has a weapon hidden in there. A knife or a small gun.
Maggie moves in front of Jules, blocking some of her body with her own.
I join Angel as she steps up because I wasn’t letting her face them alone. Whoever they are. Do I have any chance of being effective in a fight against a man? Not really, but I’d throw one hell of a knee to the balls.
Fortunately, we're the last ones remaining at the party, and everyone else has left.
My hand quivers while I type a text to Throttle. It's like that night at Club Beat this past summer when I had to send him an SOS message. Why can’t the biker clubs play nice?
“Is crashing parties your thing or are we your first?” Angel sneers.
A bearded man with a slight beer belly smirks. He tosses the finished cigarette onto the ground and then eyes Angel up and down like he wants to devour her.
“Such gentlemen. It’s not polite to litter either.” She holds a wide stance, one hand on her hip, the other still clutching her hidden weapon.
Two bikers stay stationary, while the bad-mannered guy circles us like a shark, taking in the surroundings. “Seems I owe someone a congratulations.” He grins. Their club's name isn’t on their cuts, but I suspect they're here to intimidate us.
“How sweet of you. Now if you could go the fuck away so we can get back to celebrating. Thanks.” Jules peeks around Maggie and we’re silently yelling at her to keep herself unknown.
“You’re a pretty thing. Your ol’ man is a lucky guy.”
“He is. And he’s on his way here to beat your ass, so move along.” Her hand shoos at him.
The playful smirk disappears as he advances toward Jules.
“I don’t think so.” Angel whips out a small shank from under her leather, pointing it to the guy's throat. “One more move and I’ll be happy to push this into your ugly neck.”
Maggie is eager to intervene, but she doesn't want to abandon Jules.
He comes to a stop with his hands raised in surrender. “Hey now. All that won’t be necessary. Just came to check out the party and say hi.”
Angel chuckles, keeping her knife pressed against his throat. “Doubtful.”
He grabs her wrist, causing me to gasp, but she quickly retaliates by outmaneuvering him and twisting his arm. I sigh in relief, but then realize he was playing with us, knowing that he and his men could easily attack.
“Why the fuck are you here?” Angel's voice shakes with rage.
“Like I said, just stopping by to pay my respects.” His words quake when she tugs at his restrained arm.
The two guys who came with him stand there, wearing smiles that suggest doubt about Angel's ability to defend herself. They shouldn’t underestimate her.
“Well, you can tell your President he fucked with the wrong club.” Angel drips venom in his ear.
He laughs. “You are good girl, I’ll give you that, but I swear I’ll behave if you let me go.”
She hesitates, but then releases him with her knife still in hand, and he backs away, not taking his eyes off hers.
The biker scowls, brushing off his injured arm. “Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies.”
The sound of their boot chains clinking fills the air as they leisurely leave, unaffected they had just scared a party full of women.
“We’ll be seeing you,” one of them whispers as he blows a kiss to me before following the other and sickness rises from my stomach.
We continue watching until they're gone.
“Holy shit balls.” Jules huffs out a breath and we all do the same.
“You okay?” I glance down at Angel's wrist, noticing it's already bruising.
“I’m great.”
“Never a dull moment. Let’s get back to the party now, shall we?” Maggie rubs Jules’s arm and Chloe comes skipping up with Jules’s mom, who throws us a worried look.
“What do you think that was about? And who were they?” I ask Angel.
“I don’t know.” The concern in her eyes has me in a bit of a panic. “Their patches aren’t our territory. They weren’t any territory, for that matter.”
“They had to have known we’d be here, right?” Maggie walks beside us.
She shrugs. “Or they were a random club riding by and saw an opportunity.”
“Sure. I guess,” I agree.
This is part of being with the MC. But I wouldn’t give it up. They’re family.
In under ten minutes, the guys arrive.
Charger hugs Chloe first, then gives her back to Jules’s mom. “This is why you need a protective detail on you.” He points at Jules, and she shakes her head no.
“Charger, we've talked about this, and I won't live like that. And where are my flowers?”
He kisses her like she’s his will to survive and I can’t help but admire the passion. “Pretty girl, fuck the flowers, because if anything happens to you and our children, I’ll burn down the entire Earth until I get my revenge.”
Jules pats his chest. “I know, babe. Relax. We’re fine, right Angel?”
With fury radiating from him, Venom snatches Angel's bruised wrist. “I’m going to kill these fuckers.”
“You should have seen her. She was badass and protected us.” Jules smiles.
“I have no doubt.” He tugs Angel to his side, keeping an arm around her.
“Despite the flattery, I have to agree with Charger. You should have someone following you and Chloe.”
Jules gives Angel a look of betrayal. But I am also in agreement. And I can’t blame Charger for being uneasy.
Two rough, yet gentle, hands caress my cheeks, calming me. Throttle checks my body over, rubbing over the material of my dress from my ribs to my waist. I attempt to remain composed, but those hands—they will do anything to me. “You okay?”
I give a nod and glance up, never breaking eye contact with him.
“Sorry about your shower, honey.” Chain hugs Jules, then Maggie slides in next to him.
“We had fun, and I witnessed Angel nearly beat a biker’s ass.”
Angel remains nestled at Venom's side as he groans. It's likely that he'll never release her after today.
“Guess this means another target on our backs,” Chain grumbles, sounding tired.
“Or. It’s part of the same one.” Throttle tightens his arm around my waist as if danger is approaching. To be honest, I welcome the comfort.
“Fuck,” Chain curses.
“Grandpa Chain said a bad word.” Chloe points and we chuckle.
“Grandpa? Now kid, I’m not that old.”
“You are dear.” Maggie places a loving kiss on his cheek.
“Yeah. You got grey hair.” Chloe tugs at the noticeable silver strands on his beard.
“Man. Guess I am an old man.” Chain rustles Chloe’s hair and she giggles. “All right. We should go back to the club and find out who thought it was a good idea to threaten our women.”
Everyone helps pack up and leave. When only Throttle and I stay, I say my goodbyes and start walking toward my car. Unexpectedly, he holds my hand and embraces me in a tender hug. I'm surprised by the unexpected gesture, causing my body to stiffen. But being pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped around my waist, how could I not return the embrace?
Stupid, betraying heart.
He caresses the back of my head, toying with my hair, and I release a contented sigh. We hold on to each other, relishing the warmth, until I pull us apart.
“What was that for?” I shift my gaze between each golden eye.
“I just needed to touch you.” He runs a hand through his hair like always. “We’re going to find out who they were and why they were here. I’ll take care of it. You won’t have to worry, and you’ll be safe.”
I smile. “I know.” It’s true. I have complete certainty.
We leave in silence, Throttle trailing behind me as I head home.
Yes, home . Ours.
Throttle has been staying close since the shower, to say the least. Every turn, he’s there. Every time I leave, he’s there. He even let Brass off the hook and took over as a bodyguard.
“Throttle. I’m fine. The fridge is free from any scary monsters.” I step back, closing its door, not realizing he was standing behind me. I’m regretting the water I thought I needed because, with my body now resting against his hard chest, my heart was going to beat out of my skin.
Moving closer, his hands rest on my waist. “Nothing you say will convince me to back off, my rose. Trust not a thing, not even the fridge.”
An ugly laugh releases from me, and his hot breath brushes my skin, making me shiver. I yearn to lose myself in him, recalling the exquisite feeling of him against me. I crave it like I need it to survive. And well, maybe I do.
With my head resting on his chest, my willpower fails me, yet I remain in his embrace, and he refuses to release me.
“I mean what I say when I tell you, I will kill anyone who touches you. Threatens you. Hurts you. I made it my job in life to keep you away from the ugliness the world brings, and I’ll take that promise to my grave.”
I swallow. His words are so deep and true that my knees go weak, leaving me with only seconds before I fall onto the tile.
I throw my guard up and spin, inching away from him. “Thank you for watching out for me, but it's not possible to do it twenty-four-seven.”
“Try me.” He takes a stride forward and oh boy, I’m suffocating.
I have to escape his magnetic pull, or else I'll bear the consequences of giving in to him.
“I better go. I need to study before my shift.” My feet collide with the stairs, and I just about fall to my butt.
Throttle pursues me, like a predator hunting its prey, and the ongoing struggle to avoid being caught and consumed is almost over. Yet, I dismiss it and quickly climb the steps.
I lean against the closed door, with nervous sweat trickling down my back.
His eyes flickered with something unusual. I can't pinpoint what it was, but it had a powerful impact. A powerful sexual realization. It made in between my thighs tingle with excitement.
What are we doing to each other?