CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CAPONE
“You ready?” I murmur, flicking the tip of the needle. I’m not a pro by any means, but I’ve gotten a lot better since Tara’s first shot, and I can thank my sister for that. She’s been a godsend in all of this. Any time I have a question, she’s there, patiently guiding me.
“Ready,” Tara says, holding her shirt under her boobs.
I pull the waistband of her leggings down another inch and find the spot on her pale skin I need to hit with the tip of the needle.
“Hold still, and count to three.”
She sucks in a breath, and I know that’s my cue. I jab her as gently as one could and slowly release the drugs into her body. When the syringe is empty, I slowly remove the needle, and Tara takes a deep breath.
“That wasn’t so bad.”
Reaching for an alcohol pad, I swab the area, frowning at the bruising across her lower belly. Sadie enters the kitchen just as I finish up, and her eyes nearly pop out of her head when she spots Tara’s belly.
“Holy shit, Ta, you look pregnant.”
I don’t know what happened between Maverick and Holly the day he took her and the boys out, but she’s been loosening the strings somewhat, allowing Tara to receive as many visitors as she can handle.
Tara and I both trade glances before lowering our eyes to her belly. Over the last few days there’s been some swelling there, but Lucia says that’s totally normal. All the drugs are enlarging her ovaries in preparation for the egg retrieval.
But it’s wild to see, because Sadie is right. If one didn’t know what was going on, they could easily assume Tara has a little baby bump.
I inch forward, pressing my lips to her injection site.
One day it won’t be a mirage. One day they’ll be a baby in there and it’ll be mine. A thought that once terrified me, somehow soothes me and gives Tara and I something to look forward to.
“So do you like live here now?” Shep asks as he plops down on the couch next to me. The same couch that has been acting as my bed for the last week and a half. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wasn’t letting Tara out of my sight.
That first day, after I took Tara on our first date, which consisted of a trip to Waffle House, we came back to the Burnside house and watched a movie on the couch. Tara fell asleep halfway through it, and I carried her upstairs to her bed. She woke for just a moment, insisting I lay with her, and I didn’t have the heart to deny her. I was learning there wasn’t a thing on this green earth that I wouldn’t do for her, but that’s beside the point. When Maverick and Holly returned with the boys, I peeled myself away from Tara. I had thrown a lot at them in a short period of time, and I didn’t want to overwhelm them anymore than they already were, but I felt the need to make it clear that I wasn’t going far—the days of me sitting in a waiting room were done.
Maverick wasn’t opposed to me staying at the house considering everything that was going on with the club. There were too many unknowns, and no plan to move ahead with revenge. He and Holly even decided to take the boys out of school, opting to home school them instead. So, I was handed a blanket and a couple of pillows and told to make myself at home on the couch, and I haven’t left since.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I left to get some clothes.
Scratching the side of my face, I turn back to Shep.
“I guess I do, huh?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.” He smacks me on the shoulder and stands. “I cleaned out a draw in my dresser. You can put your stuff in there.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Did someone tell you to do that?”
“No, I did it on my own.” He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. You’re making Tara happy, and I just thought that earned you a drawer. I’m not giving up my closet space though.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tara asks.
It was cute the first time she asked, but now it’s getting old. My nerves are shot, and I just want to sleep. Tomorrow I have to get up early, and head to the clinic to give my sample. I would prefer to be firing on all cylinders that way I produce my best work, although I hear a man’s best work usually comes when he hasn’t. If that’s the case, we’re fucking golden because I can’t remember the last time I came.
“C’mere,” I urge as I sit up on the couch. She limps over to me, worrying that bottom lip between her teeth. Over the last few days her pain has gotten worse, but the girl doesn’t complain.
Carefully, I pull her onto my lap. She winds her arms around my neck and goes in for a kiss. My lips curve slightly before her mouth finds mine. There might not be much of anything else going on, but there sure as fuck has been a lot of kissing.
I thread my fingers into her hair. Tugging the ends, I angle her head before taking charge of the kiss, nipping and sucking at her lips. We’ve made an art of it, and every time she gives me her mouth, it tastes even better.
Her tongue sneaks out and I capture it, sucking on that too.
I’m so fucking wound up.
So goddamn hard.
One wrong move and I’m going to come just from kissing her.
I pull away slowly, touching my forehead to hers.
“Why’d you stop?” She whispers. “Everyone is asleep.”
“I’m more concerned that if we keep going, I’m going to come in my pants, and that would not be helpful.”
“Oh,” she says, her cheeks flaming.
It doesn’t deter her though, and she goes in for another kiss. I let her take what she wants, but then I lower my mouth to her neck. Not that kissing her neck is any safer. My gaze drops to her chest, and I groan. Her choice of pajamas is worse than the crop tops she loves to wear, and to no surprise there is never a bra. Her nipples are forever hard, and with all the hormone shots she’s been taking, her tits are bigger too.
The strap from her tank slides off her shoulder, almost completely unveiling one of her breasts to me. The amount of restraint I’ve shown until now is staggering, but it fucking ends as soon as Tara takes my hand and lifts it to her breast.
“Touch me,” she begs, rocking her hips over my impossibly hard cock. I try to think of a reason not to, but my mind goes blank as she arches her back, pressing her pebbled nipple against the palm of my hand. I squeeze her breast like I’m fucking fifteen and it’s my first time feeling up a girl. “Yes,” she whispers. “More.”
Fuck.
I lick down the column of her neck, squeezing her tit, getting used to the feel of it in my hand. “Tara, baby, you’re killing me.” My lips trail a little lower, peppering kisses over the swell of her breast, then I reach her nipple, and before I can think better of it, I flick my tongue over it.
That’s all it takes to set her off and she picks up the pace, rocking back and forth over my cock. I suck her nipple into my mouth, groaning around it as her fingers dig into my shoulders.
“I’m going to come,” she whispers, panting against my ear. Not trusting her to be quiet, I release her nipple and cover her mouth with the palm of my hand. She thrusts her hips one more time, and falls apart, moaning against my hand. My cock jerks at the sight of her—eyes wide, cheeks flushed—and grows even harder.
So painfully hard.
It’s going to be so fucking messy when I finally fuck her.
Still catching her breath, she flashes me a smile.
“That wasn’t my first orgasm, but it was my best.” She leans into me, pressing her lips to mine. It’s a quick peck, and I’m fine with it. I don’t think I can handle much more. That’s why I lift her tank straps back onto her shoulders, tucking her breasts away.
“Now, you have something to think about when you give your sample tomorrow.”
I grab my cock through my sweatpants, biting back a groan. “You’re such a brat.”
“But I’m your brat.”
That she is.
We got so distracted with the embryo situation, that we weren’t prepared for what happened afterward. The day they put Tara’s port in was easily one of the worst days of my life. Or at least it was until she got her first dose of chemo. She was fine for a little while, then it was like a switch had been flipped. The three days that followed her treatment were horrible. She was in so much pain and couldn’t sleep. Everything she ate, she threw up. We spent half the time on the bathroom floor, her on her knees and me on mine behind her, holding her hair as she hugged the toilet bowl.
This morning she woke up feeling slightly better, which has been a huge relief.
“Coffee?” Maverick offers when I enter the kitchen.
“Sure,” I say as I make my way to the kitchen island to set up the tripod. “Tara’s feeling better. Holly’s helping her get showered and dressed for the day, then she’s going to record one of her videos.”
Maverick hums, pouring me a cup of coffee. “She rope you into one of them yet?”
“No,” I reply. “I cross the line there.”
He laughs, sliding me the mug. “You’re only kidding yourself,” he says. “She’ll get you sooner or later.”
I wanted to argue, but he had a point. I couldn’t say no to her.
“I have to head out. The insurance adjusters are headed over to Sally’s today.” He takes a long sip of his coffee. “You got everything over here handled?”
I nod. In the time that I’ve been sleeping on his couch, we’ve hardly discussed club business. He doesn’t offer much, and I never think to ask. It’s like I’ve taken a sabbatical or something.
He drops his cup in the sink, then shrugs his kutte onto his shoulders.
“What’s the plan for Sally’s?”
“Well, we’ll know more after the adjuster makes his decision, but if we want to stay on board, we’re probably going to have to buy her out. She doesn’t want to do business with us anymore, and I can’t really blame her.”
“Do we have the funds to do that?”
“I don’t know. I have to sit down with Leftie and go over the numbers. I don’t have a lot of liquid cash on deck, and even if I did, I wouldn’t touch it. Not with Tara’s health the way that it is. Her surgery is going to put me in the red.”
Collectively it was decided that Tara would do her chemo here in North Carolina, but the surgery was going to be in New York. In the best hospital, with the best doctors. The only bad thing was the recovery afterward. No one knew what that looked like, or how long she’d be there.
It was going to cost a fortune.
“I’ve got money, Mav,” I say, tapping my fingers against the counter. “I know she’s your daughter, and maybe that sounds like I’m overstepping, but I can help.” I lift my eyes to his. “I want to help.”
“You’re worried about overstepping?” He laughs, shaking head. “Think we’re beyond that, Capone.”
I suppose he’s right. Overstepping happened the day I told him I wanted to fertilize his daughter’s eggs.
“You just keep putting a smile on Tara’s face, and I’ll worry about how I’m going to pay her hospital bills. That’s literally the only reason I’m letting you sleep on my couch.”
“Don’t lie. I’m starting to grow on you.”
“Hey guys, in case you’re new here, my name is Tara, and I’m currently battling Ewing Sarcoma. Today, is a good day, not only am I feeling better, but it’s also my birthday.” She tears her eyes away from the camera and sends me a cheeky grin. “And someone is making me homemade pizza. Do you want to say hi? I’m on live.”
“No,” I say as I dip the ladle into the marinara sauce I made from scratch. I spread it around the dough as she goes back to talking to her followers.
I’m all for Tara using her platform as a diary or whatever it is she’s doing. It keeps her mind off things. However, me and the internet are not one.
“He’s camera shy, which is a shame because he’s really hot. If my mom’s Aunt Fern were still alive she’d call him a tall drink of water on a hot summer day.”
I roll my eyes, my lips quirking slightly as her laughter fills my ears.
“They want to know if you are my boyfriend.” That gets my attention, and I lift my head, only to find her still staring at her phone. “No, he’s just my future baby daddy. If you’ve been following me for the last couple of weeks, you know that before I started chemotherapy, I had my fertility preserved.” She goes on to tell her followers the story, but I tune her out, still stuck on her so easily dismissing me as her boyfriend. If I’m not her boyfriend, what the fuck am I?
“Stop lying to the people,” I say, my tone gruff.
She pauses midsentence, turning her attention to me.
“What? I’m not lying, even Sadie said I looked preg?—”
I slick my tongue across my teeth and set the ladle down on the counter. “I’m not your boyfriend?”
“Well, I mean I didn’t want to assume.”
“Pause the video, Tara.”
“I can’t it’s live.” She smiles at the screen. “TikTok isn’t his thing.”
This isn’t really a conversation I want to be having in front of a bunch of faceless strangers but fuck it. I step around the kitchen island, and make my way toward her, flipping my baseball hat backward.
“What are you doing?”
“Making things clear,” I say simply as I bring both hands to her face. Cradling her cheeks in my hand, I bend my head and capture her lips with my own. She gasps, and I take the opportunity to lick into her mouth, my tongue circling hers.
Pride surges deep in the pit of my gut when she kisses me back, her tongue lazily sweeping around my mouth as she winds her arms around my neck and pulls me between her legs. After a few more moments, I slowly pull away, sucking her bottom lip one last time.
Her pretty eyes fly open, and I smile at her.
“Message received?”
“Yes, sir.”
Fuck. I like the sound of that.