Page 65 of Steel

I pull away from her mouth, trailing my lips across the skin of her jaw until I’m at her ear. “Goin’ to be my good little girl and help me forget for a little while, Hummingbird?” She makes a strangled noise, and my laugh is dark, deep, and a bit wicked. “Goin’ to work this tight little cunt over my cock and let us both watch as I split it wide open?” She shudders, and I nip at her earlobe. “Goin’ to let me use you and abuse this pretty pink pussy until my mind shuts down and I can’t think anymore?”

My lips and teeth kiss and nip their way over her, and when I reach that erogenous zone right at the crease of her collarbone and neck, I bite down and suck her skin into my mouth. She whimpers, her nails digging deeper into the flesh of my back until they break through. I jerk my mouth away, letting out a sharp hiss of pleasure as I shove my jean-covered cock against her.

“Words, baby girl,” I bark.

“Yes, bossman. Fuck me. Let me fuck you. I don’t care. Just get inside me. Please. Use me and abuse me. Let me help you forget. I need to help you forget,” she cries, her fingers desperate as they work the button on my jeans.

While she does that, I carefully remove my cut and lay it across the counter, grabbing the back of my shirt and tugging it over my head before tossing it away, then I help her remove my jeans.

I grunt and surge forward into the heat of her hand once she wraps it around me. Dropping one hand to wrap around hers on my cock, I grip the counter with the other to hold myself steady so my goddamn knees don’t buckle.

She climbs to her feet and starts to drop to her knees when a sudden coolness hits my core.

My hand quickly leaves the counter to wrap around the base of her neck. “What are you doin’?”

She pouts. “I want you in my mouth.”

Visions try to cloud in, but I snap the steel door shut before they can and keep staring into her beautiful eyes as I use them as an anchor. “Much as I love the feel of those juicy fuckin’ lips on my cock, baby girl, I want my mouth on that pretty pussy a hell of a lot more.”

I don’t pretend to not see the questions or concerns in her eyes. I just choose not to acknowledge them as I grab her hand and drag her behind me to my room. There are some things I’d rather stay buried in that vault, and if I give this woman an inch, she’ll have them out and in the open in no time. It’s not something I’m ready for, and since she’s already agreed to help me forget, I can help her do the same.

Our shit will be there for us to deal with tomorrow and the day after that. Right now, being buried inside silky sweet heat sounds a hell of a lot better than facing anything else.

Chapter eighteen

Three Days Later

My day has alreadystarted off in a shit mood because we’re laying our brother to his final rest this morning. If that wasn’t enough to have me wanting to bury my fucking tomahawks in someone’s throat, then the fact that Heather is on my fucking doorstep bright and goddamn early this morning, all dolled up in black and ready to go, would have.

“What are you doing here?” I growl, not in the mood to deal with her shit.

“I’m here because you’re going to need me today. I’m sorry about Bozo, and I know the last thing you’re going to want to focus on is a kid.” She huffs and rolls her eyes when I open my mouth. “I know you love our daughter, Steel, but you’re also grieving the loss of your friend. You should be able to do that without having to worry about her too. I’m her mother, andregardless of the state of our relationship, you’re the father to my daughter. Let me take care of you both today.”

I don’t want Heather anywhere around me, but when my daughter comes bouncing up next to her looking cute as fuck in a black romper thing, her hair in curls around her sad face, I can’t say no. She loved Bozo as much as the rest of us, and not letting her be there is something I never thought about doing. Lyric is old enough to make that choice for herself. I sat her down and explained what that would mean, what she would see, but she assured me it’s what she wanted. As much as I want to protect my girl, death is a part of life, and it’s not something I’m going to always be able to shield her from. At least today, I’ll be there if she needs me.

“Hey, Daddy,” she says quietly, peering up at me with glossy green eyes and trembling lips.

Bending down, I grab her under the arms and lift her to me, snuggling her against my chest, knowing it won’t be long before I’m unable to do this. I bury my face in her hair and let the feel of her tiny arms around my neck hold me together.

“Hey, Princess,” I mumble.

Lyric pats her palm against me as she pulls back and looks me in the eye. There’s a seriousness on her face that’s way beyond her years. “I got you, Daddy.”

“Ah, fuck, girlie.” My voice is gruff as I try to control my emotions. I kiss her forehead and set her on her feet. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you too.” Lyric grabs my hand. “Come on. Let’s get you ready, Daddy.”

Heather’s hand settles on my other arm, but her touch is unwanted and I jerk away from it, following my daughter farther into the house.

I don’t want Heather with me today. There’s only one woman I want at my side, but because of the goddamn bullshit goingon, I can’t have her there. Bailee begged me to let her come, told me she didn’t care anymore about Killer finding her, that she only wanted to be there for me, but I cared, dammit. Be damned if that motherfucker grabs her because I was too selfish and wanted her with me.

I’m a grown ass man who can deal with this shit on my own. It’s not the first time we’ve lost a brother and it’s not going to be the last. Especially if shit keeps brewing the way it is with the fucking Night Skulls. If it does, something tells me that a war will be on the horizon, and it’s been a long fucking time since we’ve been through one of those.

Since I don’t have the energy to fight with Heather to get her to leave, I ignore her and focus on my daughter and the funeral I’m about to attend. Surprisingly, Heather doesn’t kick up a fuss like she normally would, so somewhere inside her there’s a goddamn soul.

The ride to the funeral home is quiet, and the entire way, my mind plays a video montage of all the moments we’ve shared with Bozo. The moments he shared with the club. The rides we’ve taken together, the wars we’ve fought side-by-side, back-to-back.

My throat gets tight the more those memories hit me.

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