Chapter Ten

Kylie

A t midday, Memphis's phone chirps, waking me up, and I'm greeted by the sight of his muscular body sprawled across the bed, one tattooed arm thrown over his face as if to shield it. The sheet slipped down at some point, leaving every inch of his body on display…including his massive erection.

I don't think he's ever anything less than rock hard and ready to go. He spent half the night inside me after we came to bed, and he's still hard and aching.

I lift my gaze to his face again, checking to ensure he's still asleep. His blue eyes are still closed, his lips parted slightly. I inch down the bed, determined to have my way with him for once.

A wicked grin tugs at his lips as I wrap my lips around the broad head of his cock. He tastes like salt and sin, and damn, the heat of him drives me wild.

"Fuck," he groans, tangling his fingers in my hair and bucking his hips when I plunge down, taking him as far as I can.

I moan around him, loving the way he growls my name, his fingers biting into my scalp. God, he's so sexy like this, discomposed and unraveling beneath me, unraveling because of me. This man is larger than life, but he's trembling under my hands, my mouth, my touch.

I hollow my cheeks as I suck on him, trying like hell to make him lose it. I want him desperate and wild, as crazy as he always makes me. I flick my tongue against the head, plunging down until my eyes water and I choke.

"Ah, shit, princess." The curse spills from his lips. "You're trying to get that hot little mouth used this morning, aren't you?"

Yes. That's exactly what I'm after right now. I want him to take what he wants—to use me.

I meet his wild gaze, fondling his balls.

"Goddamn, baby," he growls. His grip in my hair tightens as he pumps his hips, fucking my mouth from beneath me.

I sob around him, lost in a haze of pleasure.

Before I know it, he drags me beneath him, our bodies colliding as his mouth crashes down on mine. He tastes like sex and sin, and I can't help but moan into his mouth.

He prowls down my body, lavishing attention on my breasts. I claw his shoulders, sobbing his name as I try to push him lower.

"Don't fuckin' rush me, Toto," he chuckles, kissing a hot trail down my body. "I'll take my damn time playing with this body if I want to take it." He throws my legs over his shoulders, and I feel his warm breath against my inner thighs.

My body bows from the bed, his name leaving my lips in a needy plea.

"Now, that's what I like to hear." He lunges, devouring me with a hunger that leaves me breathless. His tongue strikes against my clit again and again as he fucks me with two thick fingers.

"Memphis," I gasp, digging my fingers into the sheets as he brings me to the edge. But he doesn't send me over. He crawls on top of me instead, thrusting inside so hard he steals my breath.

He grips my hips, his thrusts deep and powerful as he fucks me hard, each strike of his hips against mine sending me soaring. I feel him all around me, inside me, claiming every part of me as his own. The heat between us is electric, our bodies slick with sweat.

"Fuck, Kylie," he growls, his voice a desperate rumble. "You feel so goddamn good. Your tight little cunt was made for me."

His lips find mine in a searing kiss, swallowing my moans. But he's fucking me so hard that he can't keep kissing me. He attacks my breasts instead, sucking and biting, driving me higher and higher.

I'm so lost in the pleasure that I can't think straight. All I can do is take what he gives me, every delicious thrust sending me higher and higher.

And when I feel his fingers teasing against my asshole, something inside me snaps.

"Please, Memphis," I beg, my voice choked with desperation. "Please!"

He smirks, knowing exactly what I need. He increases the pressure of his touch. His finger slips into my back entrance, stretching and filling me in a way I've never been full before.

My body trembles beneath him, mindless with pleasure. I'm so close, teetering on the edge.

But he doesn't let me come yet.

"Wait for it, baby," he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot. He pumps his finger inside my asshole, teasing, stroking…slowly driving me mad.

I chant his name, so far gone nothing else exists. Nothing else matters. Just this—just him.

"Look at you," he breathes. "Goddamn, baby. Fuckin' look at you."

His finger plunges deeper as his thick cock stretches my pussy, the exquisite fullness making my toes curl. I'm lost to the decadent sensations, my body nothing but a livewire of pleasure as he plays me like an instrument.

"That's it, baby," he croons, his voice a sinful caress. "Take it all. Let me fill this greedy little ass."

I whimper helplessly, my walls clenching around him as he works a second finger into my back entrance. The stretch burns, but God, it feels so good. I've never been so full, so completely possessed.

"Memphis!" I keen, my nails raking down his sweat-slicked back. "Oh fuck, Memphis, please!"

And then, when I think I can't take it anymore, he finally gives me what I crave.

"Come all over me, Kylie," he growls, his eyes locked on my face. "Right fuckin' now. Give it to me."

My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave. I scream his name as he fucks me through it, riding out the storm with me.

And when he roars my name, filling me full of him, the look of sheer bliss on his face sends me spinning into another orgasm. He's so fierce, so damn beautiful as he trembles, his head thrown back, my name still rumbling on his lips.

And for the first time, I let myself believe that he might actually be mine—not just temporarily, but forever.

He groans and collapses on top of me, wrapping me up in his arms. His lips land against my ear, his voice a sinful whisper. "I hope to fucking God that you're carrying my kid already, Toto. Because I'm going to keep coming in this perfect pussy until you are."

"Memphis…" I gasp, my heart pounding.

But I don't get a chance to say anything else before he kisses me hard and pulls me up from the bed, smirking.

"Time to shower, baby," he says, his eyes dark and heated as they run over me.

I stumble after him, my legs weak and my mind reeling. The thought of having his baby has a whirlwind of thoughts and questions racing through my head.

Is he really trying to get me pregnant or was he just messing with me? He sounded like he meant it, but with him, it's hard to tell. Half the time, I'm convinced he says half of what he does just to rile me up. The other half, I think he means every word. That damn cocky smirk makes it impossible to tell when he's being serious. He wears it like armor.

I watch him as he gets the shower going, trying to figure him out—to pinpoint if this is one of those times he's being serious or if he was just screwing with me. The thought of having his kid makes me ache in ways I can't put to words, makes me ache for something I never imagined possible.

I want it, I realize. So damn badly I can taste it.

"I can hear you thinking from all the way over here, Toto."

"Gee, I wonder why," I mutter, blinking at him.

He chuckles, reading my thoughts as if they were written on my face as he holds his hand out to me. I take it, allowing him to pull me into the shower. Steam billows around us, shutting out the world as his arms close around me.

"We both know you want it just as fuckin' badly as I do, princess," he murmurs, tipping my head back until my eyes meet his. That cocky smirk is out in full force, but this time, I see the truth painted in his eyes—the desire. He means what he said. His thumb brushes my nipple, his eyes turning dark. "You wouldn't keep letting me in that perfect body without a condom if you didn't."

He's right, damn him. But I'm not telling him that. Not when he's smirking at me like that.

"Whatever," I huff instead, rolling my eyes.

He strikes like a snake, pushing me up against the wall of the shower. Water cascades down on us as he presses his hard body to mine.

"Oh, Toto," he breathes, one hand wrapped around my throat while the other slides down my slick skin. "You really shouldn't have rolled those pretty eyes at me. Now, you're going to pay for it."

Oh, crap…

I swallow hard, my heart racing.

"Memphis, we don't have time for this," I try to reason with him, my tone a mix of defiance and desperation. There's no way I can come again.

"Time? Baby, we've got all the time in the world. I own the fucking bar," he teases, drawing slow circles on my thigh, dangerously close to where I ache for him. "Besides, I like it when you get all feisty and think you get a say in what I do to this pretty body."

"Feisty?" I snort, tipping my head back in a show of stubborn defiance. "You haven't seen feisty yet, Memphis Hughes."

"Is that a challenge, Toto?" His grin is pure wickedness, making my heart race even faster.

"Maybe," I say, refusing to back down. "Or maybe I'm just tired of your shit."

"Oh, now you've done it," he murmurs, his fingers tightening around my throat. My breath hitches, arousal coursing through me in a flood. "You know what happens when you push me too far, don't you?"

"Enlighten me," I manage to choke out, my eyes locked on his.

"Nu-uh. That's for me to know, and you to find out," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear.

His words send shivers of anticipation down my spine, and I can't help but wonder what I've gotten myself into this time with this crazy man. But as much as I hate to admit it, I can't wait to find out.

The sun casts long shadows across the pavement as Memphis pulls up to the bar, his motorcycle rumbling beneath me. He's been quiet and tense since he got off the phone with Jessup after our shower, and I can't help but notice the tension in his jaw.

I'm not sure if something is going on with the bar, or if the weight of his memories still press down on him. But he's obviously lost in thought, unhappy with wherever they seem to be leading him.

"I'm not coming in with you, Toto," he says. "I've got some shit I need to handle."

"Oh." Disappointment fills me at the news. He's been here every night since the bar fight. I've gotten used to his presence. "Is everything okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, baby. Everything is fine."

I know he's lying as soon as he says it. He's not very good at it.

"Memphis, what's going on?" I ask, my stomach quivering with anxiety.

"Nothing, baby. I've just got some shit to take care of." He grabs my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm where it was knicked during the fight. It doesn't even hurt anymore. "I'll be back in a few hours. Behave for me."

"I always behave," I retort, earning a half-smirk from him. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"That's a damn lie, Kylie." He cups my cheek, his eyes soft as he stares into my eyes. "You don't know the definition of behaving. It's one of the things I love most about you."

My heart leaps into my throat. He's never used that word before now—love. Neither have I for that matter. But I feel it. God, do I ever. I've never loved anyone or anything the way I love this man.

It's time to tell him—everything.

"Memphis," I begin, swallowing hard. My heart hammers against my ribcage. "There's something I need to tell you. Something important you need to know." I exhale a breath. "It's about me and my past."

He searches my gaze and then nods, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "We'll talk tonight, okay? You can tell me whatever you need to tell me. And when you do, I want you to remember that it's not going to change anything at all between us, all right?"

I'm not sure I should wait. I can't shake the feeling that there's more going on than he's saying. Something—some instinct whispers that I need to tell him now, that this is the moment. But his gaze is a million miles away, distracted by whatever is going on that he's trying so hard to keep from me.

So I silence the little voice whispering at me and nod, agreeing to wait for tonight to confess everything—about Jayson, about our connection, about my feelings. If he still wants me after that, then I'm his. Completely and utterly.

I slide off the bike, my legs shaky. He helps steady me, his touch sending shivers through me.

"Stay safe, Toto," he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine before he straddles the bike again. "I'll be back soon."

"Promise?" I ask, my heart skipping a beat at the thought of losing him.

"Promise," he assures me, his eyes tangling with mine with a fierce intensity that steals my breath. With that, he revs the bike and speeds off, leaving me standing there with my heart in my throat.

As I watch him disappear at the end of the block, I send up a silent prayer that he's still here when I tell him the truth. He keeps saying he will be, but I'm not so sure. I'm a piece of the past he's tried to bury, one that still haunts him. And I've been lying to him about it for weeks.

Once I tell him the truth, he might not be able to see a future with me anymore. The only thing he might see is the past he's tried like hell to forget…and the brother who died in his arms. My brother.

I sigh heavily and turn, walking toward the back entrance of the bar. Regardless of what happens tonight, it's time to tell him. He needs to make the choice for himself. If it ends with my heart broken, then at least he had the chance to decide.

I owe him that. I owe him everything. He gave me pieces of my brother I never knew were missing. I came for answers and found so much more. This bar is a piece of Jayson I never would have had without Memphis—a dream I never knew about. And because of him, I feel like a piece of my brother is still alive. It lives in these walls and the care Memphis pours into the place.

He has every reason to hate bikers and MCs. He has every reason to never want to deal with them ever again, but he comes here night after night, giving them a refuge because it's what Jayson wanted. He could have turned his back on that and buried Jayson's dream with him. But he didn't.

People back home believe Memphis got his MC killed, but he didn't. That guilt isn't his to carry, but he shoulders it anyway. He never tried to correct that assumption. He never tried to clear his name. He just shouldered the burden in silence, did what he could to avenge them, and then walked away.

That's the man he is. He's flawed and broken and so damn beautiful. God, I've never met anyone like him, and I never will again because there is no one else like him. There's just Memphis.

"Kylie Conroy."

I freeze, my blood running cold as a familiar voice calls my name—my real name.

I spin around, watching as Shelby steps out of the shadows, her hard blue eyes narrowed and a malicious smirk on her lips. She's beautiful the way snakes are beautiful—it's a cold, vicious kind of beauty.

"You really should've taken my warning and stayed away," she says, sashaying toward me.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, trying to feign ignorance while my pulse hammers against my ribs. I don't know what she wants, but I really don't want to find out. If she knows who I am, it can only mean trouble.

"I tried to warn you to stay away from Memphis, but you didn't listen," she says, smirking as she draws to a stop in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest, pushing her boobs up in her low-cut top. "You should have listened."

"Are you seriously still pissed that he doesn't want you?" I roll my eyes. "Get over it, Shelby."

She throws her head back and laughs. "Please. I wouldn't touch his cock with someone else's pussy. I only threw myself at him because I had a job to do."

"What job?"

"Venom's brother." Her smirk grows, turning vicious. "We've been waiting for months for the perfect opportunity to pay Memphis back for killing him. Hate to tell you, but you're it."

My heart drops at the mention of the surly jerk who stares at me like he hates me. All this time, I thought I did something to piss him off. But it's worse than that.

Memphis killed his brother. No. God, no.

"He's one of the Graceland Reapers," I whisper. Venom was never loyal, and Memphis doesn't even know. He thinks he's a friend, someone he can rely on.

"Nope, but his brother was. Memphis murdered him." Shelby cocks her head to the side, hitting me with a considering stare. "Odd that you're riding his dick so hard when everyone says he got your brother killed. But I guess trash attracts trash, right?"

My hands clench into fists, irritation coursing through me. I've never hit anyone before, but I really want to hit this chick. Before I can, I hear footsteps behind me.

I spin around, and my freaking heart plummets toward my feet. Venom's standing directly behind me, a small black gun pointed at me.

His denim eyes bore into mine, cold and unfeeling. "Get in the van," he orders, nodding toward the curb where a white van idles.

"Go to hell," I spit, panic clawing at my insides as the enormity of the situation crashes over me. If I get in that van, God only knows what he'll do to me.

"Didn't your mama ever teach you manners?" Venom growls, his grip tightening on the gun.

"Yeah. She also taught me not to get in creepy vans with weirdos," I retort.

"Cute. Now, get in the fucking van, or I'll put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours." He eyes me levelly. "I don't give a fuck if you're alive or not when I take you. Memphis won't know the difference either way."

I glance back at the bar, praying for some kind of miracle—but none comes. I'm on my own here. Either I get in the van, or he shoots me.

Memphis, I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry.

He's going to be mad as hell at me for this, but I've gotta do what I gotta do.

"He's going to tear you apart when he finds you," I warn Venom, my legs trembling as I make my way to the van, the weight of the situation settling on my shoulders.

"Let him try," Venom snarls, shoving me inside the van.

Shelby climbs in behind me, and the door slams shut.

My heart trembles, anxiety coursing through me in a tidal wave. But I refuse to let them see my fear. I'm not just fighting for myself now; I'm fighting for Memphis.

For his sake, I refuse to lose.