CHAPTER SEVEN

– HAYDEN –

I tighten my arms around the woman who’s crawled under my skin and settled deep enough to touch my very soul. The torn voice filled with raw guilt makes my gut turn. She doesn’t deserve this. Even more? There’s no fucking way this is her fault.

“No,” I snap and let my gaze find Bran. “This isn’t her fault. She might think it is because Figo recognized her during her underground fight, but it could have happened at any time.”

Bran gasps and Deanna’s body goes rigid. Yeah, I spilled the beans about the underground fighting, but I guess it’s a moment to come clean with everything.

“Deanna’s first priority has always been you. To keep you safe. And don’t give her shit about the underground fighting either, she needed the outlet, and her father gave her one. Yeah, he was with her the day Figo recognized her, and thank fuck something happened which caused the event to end, otherwise they could have taken her that night.” I can see the questions swirl in Bran’s eyes but I’m not ready for her to speak yet. “We have reason to believe they don’t know about you. Another reason why we’ve kept you locked up in this building and why I brought Heath up to speed. Don’t turn on each other and let shit soak in before you throw ugly words at my woman, ’cause she sure as fuck doesn’t deserve it.”

Deanna turns in my arms and buries her head into my leather cut. I hold her tighter and place a hand at the back of her head to keep her in place. My brother lifts his chin and murmurs something to Bran. She nods and he guides her into his part of the house.

I scoop Deanna into my arms and settle her on my lap once I take a seat on the couch. Her body slightly shakes and I know she’s crying. Everyone has their breaking point, and she’s held strong for weeks. Hell, even longer because I know how tough she is, and the shit with seeing the man who raised her getting killed before her eyes is also something she endured alone.

There’s never been a need in my life to comfort a woman. Holding Deanna feels as if I have a piece completing me. A part I never realized was missing in my life until Deanna fulfilled a need to claim. She’s precious, unique. I’ll do anything to protect her and will make sure nothing or no one will ever harm her.

I’ll make sure she has what she needs in life, even if it entails getting in the ring with her, so she can kick my ass to blow off some steam every now and then. She’s tough as nails, and the perfect woman I’ll be honored to have by my side.

Deanna takes a deep breath, and it seems she’s pulled herself together. I stroke her back and brush my lips against the top of her head.

“Shit was bound to come out,” I rumble. “The situation is fucked-up and an unstoppable train going off track. At least it’s out in the open now. Point is, it’s not only your burden to carry, darlin’.”

She pulls her head slightly back to stare at me. Her lashes are sticking together due to her silent tears, and she’s never looked as gorgeous as she does now with her open and honest vulnerability.

My gaze drops to her puffy lips, desire hitting me full force. Damn. Would this feeling ever change? It’s like a gun being cocked, ready to fire bullets. A chain of events, the necessity of what it’s created for. Invisible strings pull us close, and our lips collide in the middle.

I groan into her mouth and let my hands roam her body. She starts to pull at my clothes, and I gladly submit to whatever she needs. Within a few breaths we’re both naked and I’m pressing her back against the couch to lay her out in front of me.

Perfect tits rising and falling as I grab the back of her left leg and push it up to expose her slick pussy. Leaning in, I lick from ass to clit and tongue the little bundle of nerves to tease her. Moans slip from her lips, my name whispered on a plea, urging me on.

I’ve never cared for a woman’s feelings during sex. Giving an orgasm, sure. It’s a tit for tat thing. Needing to give pleasure that overrides my own? Never. Fucking. Happened. Her hand sinks into my hair, nails raking over my scalp before she grips a handful and shoves me hard against her center, grinding herself against my mouth.

She’s not afraid to take her own pleasure. No shame, no fear; free to live and feel. It sure as fuck is the same for me as I hungrily feed on her pussy. No urge to fuck, even if I want to bury myself inside her. I don’t know when my priorities shifted, but they have.

Spending the past two weeks with her, working on finding Tar Lines, has brought us closer. We haven’t been intimate, and only shared a kiss here and there while we slept in the same bed. Both too exhausted and our minds occupied with everything going on.

This right here is what we both need; to put life on hold and recharge our bodies to boost ourselves and the deeper connection between us. I bring my thumb to her clit to give her the centered friction while I let my tongue slide inside her, mimicking the way my cock would fill her.

I nibble on her lips, slightly pulling before diving my tongue deep inside. She groans, her body shaking with need under my touch until she grips my head with two hands and moans my name as she shatters through her orgasm.

Her tangy and sweet taste intensifies in my mouth, and I continue to lick her through the pleasure overtaking her body. My eyes fall shut for a moment to relish her taste, and I lazily lick her clean before I lift my head from between her legs and slowly climb up her body.

I place my forehead against hers and murmur, “Hey.”

A sated smile tugs her lips, and she echoes on a whisper, “Hey.”

Reaching between our bodies, I line the pierced head of my cock up and let it slide through the slick lips of her pussy. We both groan at the intense feeling. Shifting my hips, I slide deep inside her and move my arm to hook it around hers, letting my hand grip her other shoulder to pin her in place.

“This should be slow and sensual, but I need to pound your pussy until it’s raw and branded with my cum,” I blurt.

She lifts her head, our lips brushing when she replies with a load of sass and lust, “Make me feel you, hubs.”

“Fuck,” I grunt and take her mouth in a punishing kiss while my cock repeatedly retreats and slams back inside her.

Sweat is coating my skin, my body overheats with the intensity driven need to claim, brand, and conquer. It’s overwhelming, as if climbing a mountain to get to the top and bellow out victory. Harder than my body has functioned, harder than I’ve ever pushed myself both mentally and physically, harder than any walls I’ve broken down or faced in my life, and yet this woman makes it so fucking easy.

To fuck her, to like her, to annoy her, to pleasure her, to protect her, to motivate her, to care and fucking fall for her. My hips falter when realization hits and I stare down at the woman who made my heart leap and made it drop before her fucking feet. I wait for the fear, panic, or any fucking emotion to overwhelm me and yet there’s only serenity.

There is no heat of the moment thing, there’s just us and it’s fucking perfect.

I pull out and sink right back into her hot body, slowly, tenderly, until she raises her hips and forcefully fucks herself on my cock. Yeah, our connection is a balance we both create and it’s why we work; together as one.

Her lips latch onto my neck and I can feel the pull as she sucks, sinking her teeth in me to brand me with a visible claim. Thank fuck I feel her pussy ripple around my cock, letting me know she’s drowning in bliss. I follow her into the sea of pleasure as I empty myself inside her, knowing for a fact I’ll accompany her anywhere from here on out.

My body shudders with the last few twitches of my cock, making sure I’ve given her every single drop before I give her some of my weight ’cause I’m completely spent.

A soft touch of her finger along my neck, and then I hear her whisper, “Oops. I sucked a little too hard.”

“Babe?” I mutter. “I don’t want to hear that sentence tumble from your mouth again, ’cause I’ll never complain about you sucking any part of me a little too hard.”

Her body shakes with laughter underneath me, making my cock slide out and with it a load of wetness.

“We’re making a mess,” she states with laughter in her voice.

“I’m never going to sit on that couch again,” Bran states and I lift upper body to glare over the couch, thankful she can’t see our naked bodies tangled together.

Deanna tightens the arm she has around my back and lifts up, pressing her tits against my chest when she snaps, “Likewise, bitch. Or are you denying the one at your place is untainted?”

She waves her hand in the air. “Whatever, we can sit at the dinner table whenever we come over to one another’s place.”

“Sounds good,” Deanna replies.

Heath steps out behind Bran, buckling his jeans. “We all good?”

Deanna barks out a laugh and pins her sister with a look. “You seriously called me out about fucking on the couch while you were over at your place doing the same?”

Bran’s cheeks heat and she mutters something. My mind needs a heartbeat or two to process and then I realize she said, “It doesn’t count if he bends me over the back and fucks me from behind.”

Deanna lets herself drop back down onto the couch and giggles. I love the rare sound and the twinkling in her eyes. It’s abruptly disturbed when my phone starts to ring.

I glance at my twin. “Mind leaving us? Otherwise, your old lady will get an eyeful of my naked ass when I move from the couch to answer the phone.”

Heath lifts his chin and without another word he throws Bran over his shoulder and walks back into his house, kicking the door shut with his boot. I get to my feet and grab the phone out of my pocket.

“Yeah?” I grunt, answering without checking the screen.

“Pax was stalking Lyla and noticed a shady looking fucker going around back of the shop while it was still closed. He wasn’t wearing a cut, but Pax said he’s a Tar Lines member,” Archer informs me.

It’s a load of information and yet the first line still snags my attention. “Why the fuck is Pax stalking Lyla? You know her damn background, asshole, why allow one of your brothers to stalk a woman who is recovering from a twisted fuck who was obsessed with her?”

“Because I’m not going to lie about Pax’s obsession to make sure Lyla is safe,” Archer grits. “He knows Tar Lines has a bullseye placed on Areion Fury and doesn’t want to see her hurt.”

“We have a prospect staying inside the shop around the clock, and there’s always a brother following her,” I grit.

“Pax told me she ditched Lee at the diner and walked back by herself with coffee in her hand,” Archer fires back.

I mutter a curse under my breath and finally tell my cousin, “Just make sure Pax knows about her background and next time have her standing in her fucking face if he feels the need to protect her. Lyla’s smarter than anyone thinks and I’m sure she already knows he was on her tail; it’s probably why she ditched Lee.”

“Fuck,” Archer grumbles.

I connect my gaze with my old lady who’s currently grabbing an eyeful of my flaccid cock, that’s turning semi hard under her heated stare. Clearing my throat, our eyes collide and she fucking smirks while shrugging as she gets to her feet to snatch her clothes from the floor.

“Where does Pax have the Tar Lines fucker now?” I question.

“Tied up behind the dumpster.”

“Gimme ten,” I grunt and end the call.

I reach for my jeans and pull them on when I bellow, “Heath, we’re heading out to the shop. Now.”

I’m working on my belt when my twin strides in. “Why?”

Pulling on my boots, I tell him, “Pax has a Lyla obsession. Thank fuck he was there because he noticed a Tar Lines fucker trying to get into the back of the shop. He has him tied behind the dumpster.”

“We need to have a little chat with Archer. Pax needs to be put on a fucking leash,” Heath snarls.

“Already handled,” I assure him.

Deanna strolls back into the living room fully dressed. “We’re coming with you guys I assume?”

“You assumed correctly,” I state and lower my voice to a murmur to add, “You belong by my side.”

“Mushy,” Bran quips, way too loud and too fucking close.

I glare at the annoying woman while Deanna pushes her sister against her shoulder. “Personal space, Bran. Seriously, do it again and I’ll knock you out cold.”

Heath wraps an arm around Bran’s waist and pulls her flush against his front. “Don’t threaten my old lady.”

I raise an eyebrow at the sound of my brother’s harsh voice.

Bran chuckles and pats my twin’s arm. “It’s okay, babe. She knows it’s not that easy. The score is still eight against my nine.” She throws her hands into the air, almost knocking her elbow against Heath’s jaw. “Queen of the ring!”

Deanna chuckles while Heath and I both snap in sync, “What the fuck?”

“We used to settle our issues in the ring,” Deanna explains. “Something Dad taught us.”

“Though, he didn’t like it if we skipped a referee,” Bran adds. “Hence the knockouts.”

“So, you guys fought each other seventeen times to solve your issues?” Heath questions.

They both snort, but it’s Bran who says, “It’s probably three times as much. Sometimes we settle issues while throwing punches, other times we go at it so long we’re both too tired to remember what the issue was.”

“And then there’s the time we both woke up on the mat.” Deanna grins and I frown down at her.

I don’t even know if I want to hear what the fuck happened for both of them to be knocked out.

“Headbutt,” Bran clarifies. “We both had an egg on our head the size and shape–”

“Of an ostrich,” Deanna finishes for her twin and chuckles.

“That’s fucked-up,” I grumble.

Heath curses and states, “As of now we’re going to split you two up and fuck the anger out, so you are mellow enough to talk shit out.”

“Agreed. Seemed to work perfectly a moment ago,” I add and check my phone. “We need to go.”

We all head in the direction of the garage. I grab one of the helmets and pass it to Deanna. I strap one on while Heath and Bran walk over to the other side of the garage to do the same. I straddle my bike and wait for Deanna to get on behind me. Thank fuck the gunshot wound in my arm has healed to the point where it doesn’t bug me anymore. Deanna’s too, for that matter.

The garage door opens and Heath and I ride side by side. I glance to my left and find my brother shooting me a grin. The feeling of having your woman’s warmth at your back, engine vibrating and roaring underneath while eating up the road ahead is indescribable.

I’m always alert while riding, except now it’s on overdrive with the threat hanging in the air. Even if we didn’t have one single sighting of a Tar Lines biker in our town, Pax managed to capture one.

It’s a vivid reminder this shit ain’t over yet. If anything, it just started due to the knowledge that it’s her brother who wants my woman. Not to reconnect as a family, fuck no. He wants her as his whore. That little piece of information shows how perverted and insane these twisted fucks are. We won’t rest until they’re all dead or gone. Preferably dead.

We ride around the shop and come to a stop in the parking lot behind the gym and we spot Pax right next to the dumpster. Lee and Lyla are standing beside him. Deanna is off the bike before I’ve hit the kickstand. Bran is right beside her when they pull Lyla in for a hug.

I glance at Heath and he gives me a slight inclination with his head when he pulls his gaze off our women. They sure as fuck step up as the president’s old lady without even knowing how shit needs to be handled.

Yeah, they might have had their chats with our mother, with Bee, and Aunt Lynn for that matter, but that wouldn’t have happened if those other old ladies didn’t think they were old lady material.

“Lee, mind joining us so we can go inside to make some coffee?” Deanna asks.

Lee’s gaze shifts to me and I nod. Bran guides Lyla in the direction of the tattoo shop.

“Thanks, babe,” Deanna whispers when she strolls past me.

I smack her ass because I should be the one thanking her for taking Lyla inside so I can rip Pax a new asshole. She shoots me a wink and directs her gaze forward when she follows Bran and Lyla into the shop. Lee steps in after them and closes the door.

Time to face Pax, and then handle the Tar Lines fucker to hopefully get some new leads.