“You do,” I fight, squirming and tugging. “You’re just not fucking man enough to say it. Go on, Max, say it. Say you want me gone.”
“No,” he grunts.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I yell, trying to shove him again.
“Because maybe I’m not the sweet fucking man you think I am.”
“That’s not true, and you’re holding back. Just say it; say whatever it is you need.”
“No.”
“God dammit, Max! Let me go!”
“Fucking no!” he roars.
He pulls my body closer and his lips crash down on mine. Max hasn’t touched me in close to a month, so my body responds like a desperate child in need of a snuggle. I cling to him, kissing him so hard my lips burn beneath his. He spins us around and slams me against the wall, and a frenzy unlike any I’ve ever experienced with Max, comes rushing to the surface.
He wants to fuck me like a wild animal, and I want to let him.
So I do.
There is no foreplay, no sweet kisses and no gentle strokes. No, it’s all desperate animal-like craziness. He jerks my skirt up, I yank his jeans down and then my legs are around his waist and his cock is plunging into me. It’s rough and feral and so fucking hot. He slams me against the wall with each thrust. My nails slide down his arms, taking off skin as they go. He bites my neck, grunting against it, and fuck, it all feels so incredible.
“Max,” I scream out, bucking against him.
He catches hold of a nipple through my top and he pinches it, hard. I yelp and reach up, taking his hair in my hands and yanking it so hard he hisses. We’re in a frenzy, a dangerous, beautiful frenzy. Our hands are bringing pain to each other’s bodies, but at the same time, we’re bringing each other so much pleasure.
I can’t hold back my orgasm. It comes on like wildfire, tearing through my body and making me hiss out Max’s breath, because I can’t even muster up a scream. He grunts, thrusts, slaps and bites until he’s coming deep inside me, his big body jerking with each spurt of release. I come down from my high first, dropping my head into his shoulder and letting my legs down.
He slides out of me and then we step away from each other, looking at anything else. I don’t want to admit that what we just did felt so incredibly right, and yet so incredibly wrong, and I don’t think he wants to either. It didn’t solve any problems—hell, all it did was take away from the pain we’re living through for a few minutes.
But in the end, the problem still lies dormant, like a toxic explosion ready to erupt.
And erupt it will.
CHAPTER TWENTY
NOW – ANABELLE
“What the hell are you doing here with him?” Tina hisses into my ear as we stand in the kitchen, watching Max and Chase chatting.
“Everyone was out of town. I needed someone to look after Imogen.”
“Did you sleep with him?” she demands.
Her question throws me so much I don’t answer right away. “Oh my God,” she whispers. “You did.”
“It’s really none of your concern, Tina. My life is my business.”
“He ripped you to pieces, stomped on you and spat you back out again, and now you’re defending him.”
I spin on her. “Maybe you don’t know the full story, and maybe he wasn’t the only one in the wrong, did you ever think of that?”
Her eyes widen and she takes a step back.
“And not to mention, our mother just died. Is this really what matters right now?”
With that, I lift my purse and storm out of the kitchen. “Imogen, come on.”
“Where’re you goin’?” Max asks, narrowing his eyes with concern.
“Anywhere but here,” I snap.
Imogen runs out and I scoop her up, leaving the house before any of them can say any more.
I need time; I need to process. My mother just passed and my sister is more worried about why I’m with Max. I buckle Immy into the car and then I drive back to my apartment. I just need to be away from all of them. I need to grieve. I need to think about what happened with Max last night, and I need to spend time with my daughter.
When I arrive home, I see that Tyke’s bike is out front. In fact, there are quite a few bikes out front. Just magical. I sigh and get Immy out of the car. I’ll just say a quick hello and retreat to my room, they don’t usually bother me too much. I take Immy’s hand and lead her inside, and the moment I step in, I’m faced with a mass of sexiness.
Tyke’s brothers, or so he calls them, are as hot, if not hotter than he is. The only ones I know are Maddox, who is the club president and super smokin’ hot, Krypt, who is the vice president, and Mack, who is a club member like Tyke. They’re all good-looking men, gruff and dangerous, ranging from dark and deadly to Native American and mysterious.
“Belle!” Santana waves. “How are you?”
I force a smile, but it’s weak.
“Sorry to bother you guys. I’m . . . I’ll be in my room.”
“Is everything okay?” Pippa asks, standing from her position on Tyke’s lap and walking over.
“My mom passed away last night.”
Her eyes go wide, and then she wraps her arms around me. Before I know it, all the girls are huddling together, wrapping me in a giant hug. I can’t hold back the tears. I let them flow freely, still holding Imogen to my side, but letting them all hold me while I do. When they pull back, a few of them have their very own tears.
“Are you okay?” Jaylah, Mack’s Old Lady, asks.
“I’m doing as good as I can be, I guess.”
“I’m so sorry,” Santana says, clutching my hand.
“Me too.” Ash smiles sadly.
“Come on, let me take Immy for a few hours. You look exhausted,” Pippa offers.
“It’s okay, really.”
“It’s no problem. We’ll watch movies and make popcorn.”
“Can I please stay with Aunty Pippa?” Immy begs.
“Of course, baby,” I say, not even attempting the argument.
“If you need me to take her, anytime,” Pippa says, squeezing my shoulder, “you know I will. It’s going to be a hard few days. Let me take that pressure off. You’ll be happier knowing she’s away from it all.”
She’s right about that.
“Thank you, Pip.”
“Go and have a nice long bath, get some rest, and then we’ll help you with anything you need. I’m so sorry, Anabelle.”
I hug her again and give the guys a small wave. I get a range of nods back, but their eyes are sympathetic for me. I kneel down to Immy, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you going to be okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Mommy,” she grins. “I’m going to watch movies!”
She loves movies, so this makes her more than happy.
“That’s super great. I’m sure Aunty Pippa makes the best popcorn, too. Mommy will be upstairs, okay?”
She hugs me and then runs off, waving to the bikers, not at all worried by their presence. They all love her, and immediately start a conversation with her. Smiling and shaking my head, I hug Pippa and thank her again before walking upstairs and stepping into my room. My chest is tight; it feels as if it’s going to explode, but I fight past it and force myself into the shower.