Chapter Eighteen

"I WANT TO TALK TO HER."

"No," said Jagger.

"She's my niece," shouted Cora.

Katrina pressed her ear against the door, surprised by her aunt beating Jagger back to the clubhouse. But then again, Jagger had more clothes to put on and boots to lace.

"I heard what she said." Cora's voice lowered. "A child— you hurt her—"

She strained to hear what they talked about, but the conversation quieted beyond her hearing. Katrina opened the door and faced Jagger and Cora. Behind them, across the hallway, stood Wire.

Cora reached her first. "Are you okay?"

She shrugged off her aunt's touch and stared at Jagger. "I'm fine."

"Has he hurt you?" whispered Cora.

"For fuck's sake." Jagger exhaled harshly. "Wire, take your ol' lady out of here. I'm tired of the damn drama."

"She's my niece." Cora never budged.

"And she's my woman." Jagger turned to Wire. "Get her out. Now."

Wire hustled to get Cora out of the hallway. Jagger walked forward, backing Katrina up into the bedroom.

"You're going to claim me now that I'm going to lose you?" Katrina walked over to the dresser, picked up an unopened bottle of whiskey, and broke the seal. "This is what I'm talking about."

"I'm not following."

She lifted the bottle. He grabbed her wrist. "You don't want to drink."

"Maybe I do. Maybe that's how I'm supposed to handle everything happening to me." She shook her head. "Everything has been on your time. You waited years to show your true feelings toward me. Then you waited to have sex with me. Then you told me we had to stop, and nobody could find out how we felt about each other. Year after year. Not once did you ask what I wanted."

He looked at the bottle in his hand and frowned. She snorted, seeing that he'd love to numb the pain and tune her out. But she was tired of being quiet.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" She pressed her palm to her chest. "You are no longer my crush or the first man I had sex with or my first heartbreak. That's all in the past, and you need to see how much I've lived my life belonging to you for six years, and I have nothing to show for all that time."

"We're together now." He set the bottle on the dresser.

"No, what you're doing is cramming in a lifetime of memories before my dad comes back and seeks punishment—a punishment that doesn't even make sense to me because I wanted everything that happened between us."

"A Havlin member cannot have a sexual relationship with a member's ol' lady, daughter, or sister without the member's permission." He stepped closer and grabbed her wrist. "When you were twelve years old, you kissed me while I was sleeping in the clubhouse after partying all night."

"You were passed out." She jerked her arm, but he refused to let her go. "And that was me kissing you, not the other way around. You didn't break the rules."

He shook his head. "When you were sixteen, I took you on the back of my Harley to pick up a dress for a dance at school."

She remembered the frustration that day. It had taken a long time trying on different dresses for him to approve of one that looked like a thirty-year-old would wear to church. Ultimately, she never wore the dress because the boy—she couldn't even remember his name—stood her up.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I didn't go."

"You didn't go because I told the boy if he touched you, I'd kill him." His gaze softened. "Do you remember what happened that night? I taught you how to dance under the stars outside Mama Sue's house."

"We weren't dancing." Her stomach warmed.

"We were..." He pulled her closer and put his hands on her hips. "Swaying."

She looked up at him. "You told me men like when women sway. When they walk. When they dance."

"Mm-hm." He raised one of his hands and palmed the back of her neck, holding her close to him, swaying. "When you were seventeen, I let you kiss me."

"French kiss," she mumbled.

It was the first time she'd ever had someone else's tongue in her mouth. It was more intimate than anything she'd ever experienced. Even more than having sex for the first time. That kissing session had ignited something wild and uncontrollable inside of her.

"At eighteen, you grew up." He caressed the side of her face with his beard and kept moving, side to side. "You knew what your body would do to me."

"I watched the bitches in the clubhouse when I snuck out of Mama Sue's house."

He chuckled in her ear. "I bet you did."

She closed her eyes as his hot breath skimmed her neck. Her temper simmered. All she wanted was to have him hold her and keep swaying.

"When your dad walked out of prison, and I left to start a new chapter, who did I sleep with every time I returned to Beaverton?"

"Me," she whispered.

He put his mouth on her ear. "Somewhere between twelve years old and now, I crossed a line without even being conscious of doing it."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm guilty." He pulled his head back and kissed her lips. "And it was worth every fucking minute."

She kissed him back, madly holding on to him. He walked her backward, pulling at her bikini top. She jumped from one foot to the other as he pushed down her shorts and removed her damp bottoms she wore swimming.

His tongue stroked her mouth. She searched and found his buckle and undid his jeans. Pushing the denim down to his hips, she ignored taking anything off him and jumped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He gripped her waist, thrust into her pussy, and then pressed her back against the wall. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips before she found his mouth again.

The wall provided no cushion. Every plunge of his cock rocked her. She clung to his shoulders as the inside of her thighs quivered.

Her core coiled tighter and tighter. She ripped her mouth off him and pulled his head to her neck, sucking in air.

He thrust. She exhaled.

He withdrew. She inhaled

Until Jagger's movements became too fast to breathe. She panted.

Her limbs tightened around him, holding on.

He held her ass, moving in and upward. Her spine arched, and her head snapped back, hitting the wall.

Her orgasm took hold, paralyzing her.

"Oh, God." Her jaw dropped. "Jagger."

"I got you." He plunged, pinning her to the wall.

Her insides shuddered, squeezing down on him. He grunted his release.

Jagger's knees bent. She wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting him to leave her body yet.

Breathing heavily, Jagger stumbled backward, carrying her, until he bumped into the bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress. On his lap, she stayed wrapped around him, holding his cock inside of her.

"I need to talk to my dad," she whispered. "I can convince him that we love each other. I can get him to give you permission to be with me."

"There will still be a punishment, Kat. It's the way we live."

She swallowed and voiced her fears. "But maybe he won't kill you."