Page 4

Chapter four

As I lay here with heavy eyes trying to find sleep, the shit she told me about the mess she’s found herself in keeps playing in my head. The heat from her tiny body curled beside me helps sleep elude me.

As tempted as I am to go to the bathroom to finish myself off, I don’t want to leave Bailee in case she wakes needing me.

For three fucking years, I’ve shoved my craving for this woman to the back of my mind. She deserved to find the something she was wanting, and that’s never going to be me. It’s one of the reasons I walked away so easily when I realized she was serious about us no longer seeing each other.

I’ve been through seven years of toxic bullshit with Heather. The only bright spots through those years were whenever I was with my daughter and the small moments of peace when I was with Bailee.

Her soft heart is why a part of me is glad it only ever stayed casual between us. When shit first started between us, I was still fucking other people. Didn’t want to be tied down. She was free to do the same, but I don’t know if she ever did. A few months after we started fucking, Heather informed me she was pregnant. While Bailee and I stayed casual with no promises to each other, I knew she’d developed feelings for me. I cared about her too, but I wouldn’t turn my back on my kid. This time, I got a say, and thankfully, Heather was okay with keeping the pregnancy.

Unlike Samantha.

That rich bitch didn’t even give me a chance. Just informed me that there was no way she was going to have a child with someone so far beneath her.

Until Bailee, Samantha was the reason I stayed the fuck away from women of wealth. Those two women are worlds apart personality-wise, and that helped me eventually see past Bailee’s financial status.

I will never regret Lyric, but I wish her mother wasn’t such a goddamn mess. I know somewhere inside, Heather loves our daughter, but I’m not sure it’ll ever be enough. She’s been addicted to two things since I’ve known her: drugs and letting men fill the hole between her legs in exchange for those drugs. To give her credit, she’s never brought either to the place she shares with my little girl. I’d yank Lyric from her so damn fast, her head would spin.

Heather’s addictions are the main reason I finally left for good. Shit was so dysfunctional between us for the last three years that one look into Lyric’s bright green eyes told me she was finally noticing. I never wanted that for my girl. All I wanted for her was to have the type of parents growing up that I did. I kept fighting for that for so long, until I realized it was only going to hurt Lyric in the long run. The fact that I didn’t love Heather—and never would—should have been enough of a sign, and if that wasn’t, then it should have been clear when I ran to Bailee every time Heather and I split up.

One of my club brothers caught my fucking fists when he said I was na?ve for thinking Heather would ever give me what my mom gives my dad.

Fucking na?ve because I was fighting for my daughter to have a better mom than the one I’d saddled her with.

Glancing at Bailee’s sleeping face, I can’t help but let my mind wander. What would she be like as a mom? I know her dad was a horrible father because of all the shit my club helped them with, but from what I know, her mom is pretty great. So, she’s got some idea of what it means to be a good mother.

She’s brought up before in one of those throwaway conversations that she eventually wants to be a mother, and at the time, I didn’t really think anything of it. For some reason, my mind won’t let it go now.

I scowl at the unfamiliar feeling that squeezes my chest.

No. Fuck no.

As soon as I roll to my back, the first tiny whimper reaches my ears, and I roll my head to stare at her. There’s a furrow between her brows as her eyes move rapidly under her eyelids. Another quiet cry releases from her throat, and her body moves restlessly.

Seeing Bailee again after three years has brought back feelings that I’ve been running from for a long time. Feelings I ain’t ready to admit to. Feelings I don’t want to accept.

I tell myself it’s her nightmares that are keeping me awake, though.

It takes someone with a strong stomach to handle witnessing a murder. Someone with a gentle heart like my Hummingbird will let it at their soul.

Bailee’s sharp cry bounces around the room as she sits straight up. Pain ripples across her ashen face, and she stares blankly at the wall in front of her. Under my shirt, her chest rises and falls rapidly as she fights to catch her breath.

Reaching out, I brush my hand down her hair while I croon nonsensically until the fog clears from her head and she comes back to life.

She glances at me with wild eyes, her body trembling violently. “Make me forget,” she pleads. “Fuck me and make me forget.”

All it takes is her asking me to fuck her in that quivering voice and my cock is so full and heavy in my briefs that the head is peeking out the top.

I knew it was a mistake to try to sleep in these damn things. Should have kept my fucking jeans on.

This woman has always been a temptation that I find hard to resist.

“Should go back to sleep. I’ll be right here.”

“Please, Jericho. Make it go away. All I see is the bullet hitting him in the head.” Tears glisten in her eyes. “I need it to stop playing on repeat.”

I scrub my hands over my face as the memories of what I was doing before I came to rescue her taunt me. “Was with two club whores when you called,” I inform her bluntly and watch as the words inflict sharp slices against her skin. “Wasn’t goin’ to say anything but not goin’ to fuck you with a dick dirty from someone else.”

Pain flares in her eyes. “You’re cheating on Heather?” she whispers, hugging herself.

“Can’t cheat on someone you ain’t with.”

“What? When?”

“Few months now.”

“Why didn’t you come to me? Or call and tell me?”

“Why the hell do you think I would? It ain’t been like that between us for three fuckin’ years, Bailee. Your decision. Not fightin’ to stay where I’m not wanted and not stayin’ celibate when I’m free as fuck.”

Dammit.

The hurt in her eyes makes my skin tighten, but I’ve never lied to her, and I ain’t about to start now, no matter how much it hurts her. I may omit shit, but I’ll never lie.

She sniffles, and my muscles ripple as I fight the need pounding through my veins to pull her into my arms and erase the hurt I’ve inflicted.

“A decision you left me with no option to make, Steel. I deserved more than third place. I deserved to have someone choose me . To fight for me . To love me . You were never going to do that. I was a convenience for you. Every time you and Heather broke up, you ran to me because you knew I’d stupidly be waiting. The sad thing is, it’s never been me you wanted. I’ve always been a stand-in for the one you couldn’t have, and we both know it. So, yeah, Steel, it was my decision to step away from something that had become toxic, but if you would have fought, I’d have given in because I cared about you more than was healthy.”

The more she speaks, the tighter my jaw gets and the more I grind my teeth. She’s spewing goddamn nonsense, but if I open my mouth now, I’m going to light into her ass and not let up until she realizes how asinine her assumptions about me and my feelings are.

Didn’t make her feel any other way, though, did you?

“Go to fuckin’ sleep,” I order gruffly, rolling to my back and throwing an arm over my eyes while I beat back my anger.

The fucked-up part is that my dick hasn’t deflated. If anything, it’s gotten harder at her fire, still hoping it gets to slide into some wet heat.

“I can’t,” she says softly.

“Just close your eyes, Hummingbird.”

The room settles into quietness except for an occasional frustrated sigh and her restless movements.

I debate for all of two seconds on what to do, but then her whimper fucking burrows inside my soul.

That sound makes my decision easier. I know what it’s like to watch a life be taken. I was nineteen when I saw Ratchet kill someone, and the only thing that helped when those demons chased me in the night was alcohol, pussy, and weed.

Rolling to my side, I place my hand on her hip, my fingers caressing her bare skin.

“Still can’t sleep?” I murmur.

“No. I just keep seeing Swirly’s terrified face every time I close my eyes.”

I carefully roll her to her back. “Won’t fuck you, babe, but I’ve been missin’ the taste of that juicy pussy on my tongue. The only pussy I enjoy eatin’.”

Climbing to my knees at her feet, I situate her so that her injured leg is elevated, then I spread her leg until her trimmed pussy is laid out before me. Her shirt bunches above her hips, leaving her bottom half bare to me.

“Such an enticing, plump pussy,” I croon, running a finger through her slit.

Her hips jerk when my finger brushes against her clit.

Bailee cries out in pleasure when I smack her pussy and give her a stern look. “You don’t be still, I’ll stop. I need to stop, or are you goin’ to behave and make my face all messy like the filthy good girl you are?”

The icy blue hue of her eyes darkens and goes liquid with ecstasy. A pretty shade of crimson creeps up her neck and into her cheeks.

“I’ll behave. Please, bossman. Eat my pussy and let me make you messy.”

My cock swells so much that the confines of my briefs strangle it uncomfortably. If I take them off, there’s nothing stopping me from burying myself inside her, so I rearrange him enough that the pressure eases.

“My dirty little Hummingbird,” I murmur as I settle onto my stomach.

Those pretty, glistening folds are a siren’s call. They lure me in with the promise of assuaging a greedy hunger that never goes away.

Ravenously, I answer their summons and bury my face in her pussy.

The first sip of her delectable flavor hits my taste buds and electrifies my blood stream. It only took me eating her pussy the first time to become addicted to her taste.

A palatable mix of spicy, earthy, and sweet honeysuckle.

Never get enough of it.

I sweep my tongue back and forth against her clit, fucking loving the tiny mewls that leave her mouth. Wrapping my lips around the engorged bud, I suck sharply before scraping my teeth against it.

Bailee lifts her hips to grind against my face, but I pull away and sink my teeth into her thigh in reprimand. “What happens when you don’t listen?” I growl with a glare.

“I’ll be good,” she whimpers, reaching out to feather her fingers against my cheek.

Praising her, I kiss the marks my teeth left behind. “What happens when my filthy Hummingbird is good?”

Her skin prickles, and her body shudders. “She gets rewarded.”

“She gets rewarded,” I repeat darkly. “Keep still, or I stop and get myself off on this pretty pussy before goin’ to sleep.”

The imagery produces a strangled sound in the back of her throat.

I smirk, running a finger through her drenched slit to reach her entrance and the soaking wet heat waiting for me. “That what you want, baby? You want me to paint this lush little cunt with my cum?”

My hips move against the mattress, trying to find some relief from the throbbing ache that’s taken up residence in my cock.

“Please, Jericho,” she begs.

Adding another finger, I watch as her little hole stretches around them before rolling my eyes back up her body to catch her expressions as I glide them in and out. “Want me to eat this soppin’ cunt, baby girl?”

She rolls her head back and forth on the pillow. “Yes.”

Leaning forward, I lash her clit with the tip of my tongue a few times in a delicious tease before pulling away. “How bad?” When she doesn’t answer, I smack the top of her pussy and groan when she flutters around my fingers. “How bad, Bailee?” I growl.

Her curvy little body quivers as she fights for her release. “Bad, baby. I want you to eat my pussy so bad.”

Fuck, I love when her mouth is as dirty as mine.

Beads of cum leak from my cock as those salacious words tumble from my sweet Hummingbird’s mouth.

With a rough, hungry groan, I smash my face into her juicy cunt and do my best to suck out her fucking soul. My fingers and mouth work in tandem until her thighs shake. I worship her pussy, driving her to the edge and continue to hold her there.

Her anguished sobs are a beautiful fucking song to my rigid cock, and it weeps in response.

I feast on her succulent flesh with abandon until I’m drowning in the spicy, wet heat of her release.

So fucking good.

Lapping up the juicy remnants, I rise to my knees and pull my briefs down until they’re resting under my heavy balls.

Scooping some of her release onto my fingers, I smear it over my aching cock, lubricating it for the beating I’m about to give it.

The fire running through me has me so goddamn needy for release that only a few brutal yanks have my balls pulling tight.

Bailee watches me through hooded eyes, and her pretty tongue darts out to lick her lips.

With a grunt, I tighten my grip so I’m strangling my dick, and the sound of my hand speeding over my slippery length fills the room.

She lifts her t-shirt until it’s bunched above her perky tits, and I work my hand harder as she cups the globes, flicking her dusty pink nipples with her thumbs.

“Give it all to me, bossman. Paint my pussy with your cum.”

Hissing at the electricity that spirals up my spine, my cock tunnels through my tight fist as she glides her hand down to her ripe cunt. She parts her folds, working her clit with her middle finger, and fire pools low in my abdomen.

“Want me to mark that pussy, baby girl?” I rasp.

“Yes,” she moans.

Time slows as ropes of cum shoot from my cock so hard that my body jerks with each squirt. My harsh groan of relief mixes with her quiet moans as she works herself to completion.

Like always, the sight of my cum covering her pussy holds me in thrall. There’s something so primitive and so goddamn sexy about it.

Honestly, it’s a selfish asshole move because it marks her as mine in private while I refuse to let her have anything more.

After the last three years of Heather’s toxic bullshit, I don’t want anything else. For the first time since Lyric was born, I’ve got freedom and no bitch claiming my dick. But if there was someone who could tempt me to give in, it would be Bailee fucking Sterling.

That means I’ve got to get her damn mess with the Night Skulls situated. Then she can go back to her life of luncheons and galas, and I can go back to Friday night club parties and random bike runs that may or may not include bloodshed.

Ignoring the insidious voice in the back of my head telling me it won’t be that easy, I pull my briefs back up and tuck my soft cock away. There’s every intention of telling her this was a mistake, but when I look back up, the steady rise and fall of her chest signals that she’s fallen asleep.

My body softens as I gaze at her peaceful sleeping face.

I did that for her.

It was me who chased away her demons and helped her find enough calm that she could fall into a dreamless sleep.

Why the hell does that fill me with pride?

For the first time in I don’t know how long, I’m fucking terrified.

Gently scrambling from the bed, I rush to the bathroom for something to deal with the mess I left. Something to distract me from the direction my thoughts were going.

After cleaning my cum from her with a warm cloth, I pull her t-shirt back down and slide the ugly floral blanket over her. Unable to help myself, I reach down and brush a piece of hair from her face.

How the hell did someone with her soft heart and curious soul land smack dab in front of a rival club during a murder?

Taking on Killer and his club on my own would make me a very stupid person. Until I can assess how much trouble it will bring to the club, I have to be the smartest stupid person there is. I just fucking hope there’s no blowback on my club, my daughter, my pretty little Hummingbird, or me.

But considering the life I lead and the club that’s after her, it’s highly unlikely this will play out the way I hope.

Fucking Killer.

And fucking irresistible icy-eyed women.

Bringing nothing but fucking trouble to my life.

Good thing I’ve been itching to shed a little blood.