Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LAINEY
When I feel his thumb slide across my bottom lip, I know I need him right now. I don’t know that I can even wait long enough for him to meet me back at my house. Sneaking my tongue out of my mouth, I taste the pad of his thumb.
He grunts, shifting his hips forward as he presses his hardened length against my belly. I can feel he’s hard and ready beneath his jeans. He lowers his head, his mouth touching just behind my ear, which sends chills over my skin.
“Gunnar,” I breathe.
“I can’t fuck you here. Someone is going to see.”
Indeed, he can’t fuck me here, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want him inside me right now.
I really do.
Like, right this minute.
And I wouldn’t care if anyone saw. They could watch, and at this point, take pictures, too. I would be okay with it all. Sure, I would regret it immediately after, especially any pictures, but I want him so badly right now that I would do just about anything.
“Go home, and I’ll follow you there,” he murmurs against my ear.
“You’re trashed,” I whisper. “You can’t ride your bike or drive. No way in hell.”
He laughs softly. “No, I really can’t.”
It’s my turn to lift my hand between us and cup his jaw. I search his gaze, wondering what the hell I’m going to do with him. Because I really want to keep him. I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to walk away from him. Even drunk, even with that woman hanging all over him.
I want him.
Gunnar shifts his face so his lips are touching mine, but he doesn’t deepen the kiss. “Since I can’t eat your sweet cunt here, I’ll get one of the guys to bring me to your place, and we can pick up my bike tomorrow.”
“Gunnar,” I say, his name coming out as a pant at the thought of his mouth between my legs.
He chuckles against my lips, then takes a step backward, giving me a bit of space. My hand drops from his face, even though I don’t want him to retreat. I want him to move forward—to touch his mouth to mine, to feel his fingers on my skin.
“Let’s go home, baby.”
My entire body shivers at his words, at the thought of them. Home. I know it’s not our home, it’s mine, but it won’t be for long. I allow myself to live in the little bubble, the illusion where it is our home and that this is real.
Which is dangerous.
I do not need to think about that. I don’t need to pretend. But it’s where I am, and in a few weeks, it will all be a memory. I’ll think about it, I’ll remember it, and I might even cry about it, but I will be able to move forward.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
My stomach twists. Let’s go home. Together, as if we’re one, but I know we aren’t and we never will be. He reaches out, extending his index finger, and touches the tip of my nose. His smile is soft as he looks down at me. His gaze searches mine, but he doesn’t say anything immediately.
Or at all.
What I want is for his lips to be everywhere on my body and to be naked in my bed with him, living the illusion for just a little while longer.
Even if it’s a lie, me trying to convince myself that I can move forward from this, which I have a feeling it is if I really thought about it. Which I’m trying not to do.
“No,” I whisper. “Let’s go to your room.”
He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walks away from me, down the hall, and heads toward the living quarters. I let out a heavy exhale, watching him sway before he stops, then I watch as Lightning almost appears out of thin air in front of him.
Closing my eyes, my head falls back as it bounces against the wall.
I can’t follow behind him right now, so I stay where I am, frozen against the wall.
What the hell am I doing? This is getting way too out of hand.
I knew I loved him, but now I’m wondering what I’ve done to myself and why I’ve done it.
I’m doing this with him and falling too deep.
Way too deep.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to figure myself out at this point or cope with this situation the way I thought I could. The only thing I hope is that once I walk down the aisle, I’ll be able to forget him, forget this—forget us.
“Girl, you are so fucked,” a voice coos.
I crack one eye open, then turn my head before I look at her. It’s Daisy. I should probably be pissed that she’s even standing there looking at me, but I can’t be mad. Not really. He’s not mine to have. Even if he’s all I’ve ever wanted. I made the choice, and I agreed to marry Paul.
“Yeah?” I ask.
She hums. “He’s fucked, too.”
I almost ask her if he’s fucked because she’s the one fucking him, but I decide against it.
I should not be petty right now. I’m the one with the issue, not her.
I’m the one who is in the wrong here. I’m engaged to someone else, and I’m playing house with Gunnar and falling deeper in love with him like an actual idiot.
“He loves you, babe. See it in his eyes. No other woman on earth would ever do it for him again.”
I think about opening up to her, but that’s not who and what we are. She’s a clubwhore. She’s slept with all of them, and she was just hanging all over Gunnar. I am not feeling like having a little girlie moment with her.
“It doesn’t matter,” I murmur. “I’m getting married.”
As much as I want to add that Gunnar wouldn’t want to keep me anyway, even if I weren’t getting married, I don’t. That’s too much, too personal. Her eyes search mine for a long moment in silence, then she crosses her arms beneath her inflated tits.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” she says with a smirk. She takes a step forward, then another until she’s standing right in front of me. “But just to add,” she continues, “you love him, too. And nothing happened between us.”
VIKING
“You’re gonna fuck this shit up,” Lightning grinds out.
Tilting my head back, I look up at him. I’m not as trashed as I was earlier, having been that close to Lainey sobered me up a bit, but I’m definitely feeling good. I open my mouth to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he continues.
“You’re gonna fuck this up for the club, but none of us gives a shit about that.”
“No?” I ask with a chuckle. “I’m pretty sure there are contracts and shit in place, and it would definitely fuck up the club, and everyone would give a fuck if we were somehow at war with the Front Mob Family.”
“That’s fair,” Lightning murmurs. “Everyone would care about a war. But none of that shit would matter, because you and Lainey should be together.”
I start to ask why, but I don’t want to get into a deep conversation with him right now. This is totally killing my buzz and is a complete goddamn downer. All I wanted was to eat Lainey out and fuck that sweet cunt until we both exhausted ourselves.
Now I’m standing here in the hallway, engrossed in an emotional conversation that is too fucking deep and intense for my mood.
I decide I’m going to shut this shit down right now.
Enough is e-fucking-nough. Taking a step to the side, I decide that I’m going to walk past him and head to my room, but before I go, I look over my shoulder at my friend.
“It doesn’t matter if we should be together or not. It’s out of our hands now. I’m not going to betray the club, and Lainey wouldn’t even if she could.”
Without giving him the option to respond, I continue down the hallway until I find my door, open it, and slip inside to wait for my woman. And she is that, at least right now. The room is empty, and I look around at everything.
My room isn’t as clean as it should be, probably not as comforting or inviting either.
Lainey’s place is tidy. It’s definitely a house for a woman.
Lots of florals and shit like that. I always thought guys who lived in places like that had balls that must be shriveled to the size of raisins, but I get it now.
I can’t even describe it, but there is something…
comforting about it. It’s not like a memory is triggered or anything.
My mother, when she was around, was not about warmth and fuzzies.
She wasn’t soft and definitely didn’t decorate anything.
Not unless you call lining a coffee table with cocaine decorating. She did a lot of that shit.
Moving through the room, I make my way into the bathroom and start the shower.
Not many of us have en suites, but I was able to snag one a few years ago.
I feel pretty sober now, but I’m sure Lainey would like Daisy washed off me.
Even though we didn’t do anything, she touched me, and her mouth was on my throat.
That would be enough to completely send me over the edge if the tables were turned.
Once I’m showered and dried off, I wrap the towel around my waist and head out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where I’m surprised to see Lainey sitting on the edge of the bed.
She lifts her gaze to meet mine. “Nothing happened with me and Daisy,” I murmur.
Lainey nods once, her tongue slipping out of her mouth and across her bottom lip, wetting it as her gaze searches mine. She doesn’t speak. Instead, she closes her eyes slowly, and I want nothing more than to slip my dick between those sweet lips and fuck her mouth.
“I’m getting married,” she whispers. “I can’t keep doing this.”
Moving toward her, I know where this is going. She’s going to be Paul’s wife soon, and there’s nothing I can do to stop that. But I’m not ready to let her go yet. She spent all day doing shit for that wedding, so maybe she thinks she needs to stop this with me because she’s feeling guilty.
She shouldn’t.
I think about following Paul to see who he’s fucking so I can show her that she’s not doing anything wrong. And maybe I will do that, but it won’t be right now. In this moment, all I can think about is tasting her, feeling her, and then watching her come.
“Yeah, you can, Lainey. Because you’re getting married in a few weeks. Take what you want, baby.”
She tilts her head back slightly, her gaze sliding up to meet mine. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I lift my hand and cup her cheek. I swipe my thumb beneath her eye, searching her gaze.
Then I feel her hands curl around my towel. She untucks it, letting it fall to the floor. “I want you, Gunnar. All of you.”
“Take it, Lainey. Fucking take that, baby.”
She sinks her teeth into the corner of her bottom lip as she reaches out, curling her fingers around my dick. She shifts her face forward, her eyes never leaving mine. My teeth clench when her lips touch the tip of my dick.
Fuck.
Yes.