Page 80 of Forsaking All Others

“Jesus Christ,” I hiss.

Pushing Ghost out of my way, I jet across the lot and hook my arms under Holly’s. She fights me for about a second before I tear her away from Vivi and throw her over my shoulder. I glance down, taking in my woman’s handywork. Vivi’s laid out, nose and lip busted, blood painting her face.

“Told you we were done,” I growl.

“You always say that,” she spats. “And you always come back for more.”

Maybe I should’ve let Ghost at her after all, but instead of breaking her legs I would’ve had him break her fucking jaw so she shut the fuck up.

“Put me down!” Holly demands, her fists pounding against my back. “I mean it, Maverick. Put me the fuck down. I’m not done with her.”

Deciding my efforts are better served calming down Holly than dealing with the cunt bleeding on the ground, I tighten my hold around her legs and turn around.

“Yeah, you are, baby. Put her nose straight across her face. You’re fucking done,” I grind out as I stalk toward the clubhouse. Holly continues to fight me, alternating between pounding me with her fists and scratching me with her nails. Don’t mind the battle scars but much rather have them because she’s hot for my dick and not pissed as shit because some cunt decided she was hungry for it instead.

My gaze cuts to Ghost.

“Get that bitch out of here and make sure she don’t come back,” I hiss.

“My fucking pleasure,” he returns.

I enter the clubhouse and look to Ink.

“No interruptions,” I clip. “Don’t care if the fucking place is burning down.”

Without waiting for a response, I head for the hallway. The fire spreads through my veins and I fight like hell not to give into temptation and let my hands glide over the globes of her ass. I’m wound too tight for this. The last four days were more than I bargained for, between wiping the Corrupt Bastards off the face of the earth and collecting all our guns, restocking the supply—I was on edge. If I didn’t sleep off the tension, I’d look for other ways to release it. More specifically, I’d go to Holly and I wouldn’t give two fucks that she was mourning the man I took from her, I’d get down on my knees for real and feast on her.

I’d lap at her sweet pussy until she begged for my cock.

Then I’d bury my cock inside her. I’d fuck her for hours. Make her come over and over again.

Take back what was mine once and for all.

That’s why I opted to come here.

That’s why I didn’t call her to tell her I was back.

I needed sleep.

I needed to pull myself together.

I needed to rub one out in the shower before I slapped on a smile and went back to playing house with my ex-wife.

“Eight years,” Holly rambles. “That bitch had it coming to her for eight long years. Let me go, let me finish her.”

Finally reaching my room, I step inside and kick the door closed, sliding the lock into place. Then I turn to the bed and drop Holly against the mattress. She tries to shoot up, but I press a hand to her stomach, pinning her back down.

“Quit it,” I order.

Her eyes narrow into tiny slits—if looks could kill, I’d be fucking pushing up daisies.

“You do not tell me to quit it,” she hisses.

Yeah, a riled Holly makes for some good entertainment.

It also makes my dick hard.

“You didn’t come home.”

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