Outlaw's Bride (15 page)

“I told you I can deal, Sally. You get that?” He paused, stamping his red hot lips on my earlobe. “Thing is, I don't fucking want to. I want this shit to be as real as the Redding sunrise. I want it goddamned terrible, almost as bad as I wanna rip through this gown and fuck you on the counter.”

Holy shit.
His lips moved lower, grazing my neck. He sucked, nibbled, and then sunk his teeth into my tender flesh, giving me a proper love bite and a swirl of the tongue so unexpected I nearly screamed.

His hands went places. So many places, so smoothly, so possessively, I felt like I'd become a bundle of flames.

Roman's lips moved up, faster and faster, insatiable. The inevitable kiss came, and my panties drenched the second his tongue touched mine.

He growled into my mouth just as I moaned. His hips rocked into mine, pushing me onto the counter, grinding magnificently on my clit through our clothes. Lava stung my veins, bathing my brain in its thick, rampant heat, shutting down every thought except how fucking amazing he felt all over me.

His tongue worked mine harder. Hungrier.
Take this kiss, open your legs, and fuck me,
it seemed to say, telling me exactly what was about to happen without forming any words.

My nipples tensed, became hotter, harder pebbles. They ached like small coals burning beneath my gown. One rough hand brushed up my thigh, heading for my sopping wet slit, and the other moved like a fiend, zipping up the silky cotton wrapped around my torso. He found my breast and pussy simultaneously.

Two fingers pushed inside me, just as he pinched my nipple taut. That snapped me back to life.

Too. Fucking. Fast.

No – no! I can't let him do this. Not when he's hurt me so bad.

My eyes snapped open. The humid lust clouding my senses vanished in an instant, replaced by saner fears.

Christ. I'd completely hated him up until last night, when he showed me he could be more than an irresponsible thug. I couldn't change my mind from
fuck you
to
fuck me
in twenty-four hours, right?

What kind of woman was I? Sure, he'd looked like a good father when I saw him with Caleb, but it was one little footnote in an entire book of crudeness and violence.

My hands flattened against his brutally tempting chest and pushed. Hard.

“Babe? What the fuck's the matter?” he growled, staggering back.

For a second, my eyes caught the raging hard-on tenting his jeans. I knew what that cock could do, and if it came out in this kitchen, no wouldn't even be on the table.

“This is happening too fast, Roman,” I panted out. “I'm sorry. I need more time. I still don't know what the hell we're doing here. I don't know if I hate you.”

He cracked a smile, tugging on his jeans with his thumbs, probably to relieve the strain of his towering dick against the denim. “I told you I'm sorry for the shit that came down before. I'm making it right. I'm gonna build this family into something real, damn it, and I'll spend every waking minute fucking the shit outta you if that's what it takes.”

“You can't control me with sex,” I snapped. “I don't want anything to do with you like that right now.”

But my body does,
I thought, pinching my legs together and feeling the wetness his touch had left behind.

So strange to be annoyed and a little turned on by his brash words. Then again, contrasts were the norm with Roman. The sooner I learned to deal with them without losing my sanity, the better.

“You think I want control? You think I wanna drag you to my cave and fuck you without any say?” He stepped toward me, not stopping until my nipples brushed the hungry bear tattooed on his chest again. “You're flat out wrong, babe. Having you like a dead fish won't do shit for me. I want you to fucking
want
this 'til your heart stops. I want you to
beg
for my come again, Sally. If you're not ready for this shit, fine. I'll put a leash on my dick and keep teasing 'til you are.”

Hot sweat beaded on my skin. I ripped myself away from him, ducking to get away, before my body mutinied and I spread my legs wide open for him on the counter like he'd wanted.

“Roman.” I looked up, forcing myself to meet his dark brown eyes. “Don't. We can't do this. We can't make another big mistake. Not when I barely even know who the hell you are.”

The arrogant smirk on his face melted. “What, you don't have a fucking clue?”

“You know what I mean. We had a few summer weeks of sex and road trips two years ago. We've lived together exactly one day. I don't care if your name's already burned into my skin because you forced it there. You're a walking mystery, and I'm not going to throw myself at you when I don't have a clue if you really mean any of this.”

For a second, his jaw tensed up. I thought he'd explode, maybe reach into the cabinets and start shattering the dishes I'd just spent over an hour neatly organizing. Instead, he looked at the floor and headed for the table, jerking out a chair so fast it screeched across the tile.

“Let's just eat some grub. We've got all day to sort this bullshit out before the club bash this weekend. Everybody'll expect to see you acting like an old lady there. Here, right now, I don't give a fuck.”

That last part drove deep in my chest like a knife. Whatever he'd said about not caring, the sharp tone in his voice said otherwise. With a sigh, I gathered our plates, pushing his toward him.

“What the hell's that supposed to mean, anyway?” He pointed his fork at me. “You think I'm a 'walking mystery?'”

“I don't even know why you went behind bars. Let's start there,” I said, nervously stabbing at my eggs. “And I swear to God, if I hear the words 'club business,' I'm going to –“

“I was covering somebody else's ass, babe. It was a bad run,” he said slowly.

I blinked, struggling to shake off my disbelief as I realized he was actually telling me something.

“The club was running arms, special shit we picked up at the start of our beef with the cartel. That bastard Fang, the old Prez, ran the armory too low. He'd spread us thin, fighting other clubs, leaving us in no condition to deal with a threat as big as the Mexicans.

“We were desperate to replenish our shit, get our ducks in a row to fight. The convoy stopped in Redding after pickup north, and I was on escort down to San Diego. We stopped along the way at this biker bar. Some of the other numbnuts got into it with a rival crew there, this club from Texas, passing through our territory.

“They raised a fuck of a commotion, and the local sheriff came roaring in before we could hit the road. Somebody had to stay behind, throw them a fucking bone, make the cops think they hadn't missed half a dozen trucks filled to the gills with illegal guns. I took full responsibility for damaging the bar, fucking up ten guys. Really, I only beat the shit outta five. Some of the boys on that run were bastards, and I'm glad they're gone now, but I did it for the part of the club worth saving. I did it to fight the cartel.”

My heart pounded. I could barely remember to eat. Slowly, I reached across the table, grabbing his hand, running my fingers through his.

“They threw the book at me over the fight, and for finding a couple grenades and magnums with their serial numbers filed off in my saddlebag. I did two years for a brotherhood that was fucked up 'til I got out. I wasn't sure about the club then, but I was damned sure the cartel was worse. I couldn't let 'em have an open path to Redding. If they'd gotten up here sooner, they would've fucked up your ranch that much faster, and I wouldn't have been around to help.”

He paused, looked up. “I did this to protect the town. I didn't want them fucking with my ma, or anybody who didn't deserve it. The cartels don't have a code. They'll fuck anybody who gets in their way, and I wouldn't let that happen to anybody. Even you, babe, and I didn't even know you were carrying my kid.”

“I always knew you had a reason for doing what you did,” I whispered, squeezing his hand tight. “Thank you.”

“Don't.” He shook his head. “I'm no hero. I'm just a man who chose the lesser evil, and by some stroke of luck, it turned out to be the right choice.”

He dragged his hand away from mine, tucking into his breakfast. I watched him eat in silence for more than a minute. The story – the
truth
– was so intense it left my throat as dry as cotton.

Something was missing anyway – my morning caffeine. I got up and walked to the fridge, retrieving an iced latte drink in a carton.

The coffeemaker was still in its box. Roman picked the bottle up and sneered.

“This sugary piss coffee any good, or what?”

I looked at him and smiled. I couldn't help it. “You tell me. It won't take the tattoos off your skin to try something new, you know.”

I watched the powerful muscles in his arms bulge as he picked it up and twisted off the lid, sloshing some in a tall glass. “That's all I'm doing lately, babe. I've got a skull as thick as a dinosaur, but I'm smarter than you think. I can learn, and you'll find out just how fucking fast. Just wait.”

He pointed at me as he set the bottle down, then tucked into his eggs. We mostly ate in silence. When his food was almost gone, he reached for the drink and took a long pull, slamming the glass back down on the table as he smiled.

“Well?” I said. Keeping the conservation on iced latte drinks seemed safer than everything else.

“It's all right. I still like my shit black, but I can deal.”

I returned the sharp smile tugging at his lips. My first breakfast with a badass hadn't turned into the disaster I'd expected as soon as I pulled his hands off me.

“Go get cleaned up and let's get Caleb fed. We'll set his kid seat up in my truck.”

“Why? Where are we going?”

“My ma wants to meet her new grandson and the woman I knocked up. We'll pack some snacks and water, make a day of it. There's a park nearby that the kid'll probably love too.”

Shit.
So much for avoiding disaster.

The short, dark haired woman came out screaming. The screen door attached to the old house whipped open and banged against the wall before we were even out of the truck, and at first I thought her shrill excitement was some kind of strange bird making noise.

Caleb's eyes went wide and he blubbered as the odd woman jumped up and snatched him out of my hands.

“My baby! Oh God! He looks just like you, Travis.” Roman's mother beamed at her son as he rounded to our side of the truck to meet us.

Travis, huh?
I smiled, amazed it had taken me to years to learn his new name. It was friendlier than the gruff sounding executioner road name he'd adopted in the club. It was also kinda stunning I'd never heard it until now.

“Lord – he's precious!” I watched in awe as the sixty-something lady alternated kissing Caleb's cheeks at light speed, as if she was trying to make up for all the grandma kisses he'd missed his first year at once.

“Come on, ma. Don't suffocate him before we get him in the house.” She laughed and grudgingly let go as Roman pulled the boy away from her.

For the first time, she looked at me forcefully, her slim lips signaling a cautious smile. “And you must be the lucky lady,” she said.

I nodded. “It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Sally Jennings.”

“Not for long,” Roman growled, eyeballing the hand I'd extended to his mom. “This chick's my old lady, ma. Just waiting to get her a proper jacket from the stitch shop in town next week. We'll do something about that fucking last name too.”

She looked at me like I'd just stepped off a comet. Then, ignoring the handshake, she leaned on her toes and threw her arms around my neck, covering me in several of the same quick pecks she'd given the baby.

“Welcome to the family. If my son's done
anything
to screw you over, come to me. My friends call me Julie, but you'd better get used to calling me 'ma,' just like him.”

Roman showed his teeth. He was half a head shake away from rolling his eyes. “Let's go. We can talk this shit over inside.”

There wasn't much to Julie's house. It was a small, simple blue collar place in a little village outside Redding proper, right where the houses tapered off into wild country.

She served us coffee as we sat in the living room. No sooner than I sat down on the soft sofa, Roman took my hand and flattened his in my lap, dangerously close to clenching my thigh through the long dress I'd picked out for the warm autumn day.

“You're a cuter couple than I expected,” she mused, barely looking at us as she bounced Caleb on her lap in the huge recliner across from us. “I always figured my son would end up with someone –“

“Trashier?” He finished for her. “Fuck no. You know those sluts at the club were nothing to me, ma. I'd gouge my damned eyes out before I ever had a kid with them.”

Except it could've easily happened,
I thought sadly.
The only reason I'm sitting her with this bad boy now is because of one wild night and a faulty pill. It could've been anyone besides me.

“Oh, Trav.” She looked up, brushing her fingers through the baby's soft hair. “The playboy days are over, yes? You're going to be a married man. You've got to let some bad habits die.”

Jesus. For the second time that day, the M-word came up. I kinda knew it was only one heartbeat away after he'd stamped his name above my ass, but I'd at least expected a proposal, some sort of say.

“We're together now, yes,” I said softly. “I hope he's in the mood to settle down.”

I looked at Roman. His masculine face tightened so subtly you could've missed it in a blink. The fingers on my thigh were more obvious.

When I said
settle down,
he squeezed, hard and wanting.
Oh, hell.

“He'd better!” Julie snapped, shooting Roman a sharp look. “And I'm not just talking about the lovin'. Everybody in this house remembers what happened to Dagger.”

“Dagger?” I echoed.

Suddenly, Roman's grip on my leg wasn't so tight. Julie stared down sadly at the baby in her arms. Caleb smiled, pawing at her fingertips.

“He would've been an
amazing
grandpa.” She looked up. “I can still feel my old man next to me some times, his huge, protective hand on my shoulder. But it's been too long to feel him the way I used to. Roman, you were so young...you can't end up the same way he did and leave this beautiful boy alone.”