Page 5 of Choices

The unrelenting wave is back, rising around us, threatening to crash down, destroying what we have now as well as any chance at a future together.

“Says who?” I take a step toward him, his doubt causing a rock to form in the base of my throat. “I’m not asking for a diamond ring and the promise of forever, Cutter. But don’t throw us away out of fear of it not working.”

“It’s too much of a risk.”

Am I not worth that risk?My head spins. Tears threaten to take hold as sadness washes over me.

God, does he not see how much I love him?

My chest tightens every time I look at him, my heart trying to break through my ribcage to splatter at his feet, each beat like a song written only for us. I love him with an intensity that scares and exhilarates me, and I’d sacrifice everything for a fraction of that devotion in return. I would give everyone up to be withhim. How does he not see that? Maybe he does. Maybe he’s just not willing to do the same. Loving someone who doesn’t love you back is the worst kind of pain. The shards of what we share splinter and burrow inside me, leaving scars that will never heal.

“Don’t be a coward. If this was just a fuck for you, then tell me that, and I’ll leave and accept it for what it was.” I take a confident step forward, my back straightening, eyes narrowing.

He mimics my action. “Don’t ever fucking think that.” He squeezes his eyes shut as a shudder racks through him, cracking his resolve. In the next breath, he launches himself at me, pinning me against the doorframe, hands fisted in my hair and lips crushing mine.

I push him back, touching a hand to my throbbing lips, and smile, my breathing as erratic as his. Cutter may not know how to show me his feelings or own up to them to my brother, but he knows how to fuck, and as pitiful as it is, I’ll take anything he gives me.

Dragging my shirt up and over my body, exposing my tits trapped beneath my purple lace bra, I move straight to my leather pants, popping the button and shoving them down my thighs. “Kit,” he groans, shaking his head.

“Shut up and fuck me, Cutter.” I reach up, wrapping my hand around his neck and pulling his face down to mine. He’s over a foot taller than me. I have to tiptoe just to reach him.

Gripping my ass, he lifts me until my legs wrap around his waist. Lips manic and violent, we devour each other, as if all the answers could be kissed into existence. He tosses me on the bed, and I shuffle back until I’m in the center, shoving the pillows to the floor. Crawling over me, he pushes my bra up over my tits and head and wraps the material around my wrists, binding them. My nipples peak, desperate for contact, a shiver racing over my bared flesh.

My pulse quickens as he moves over me, his eyes blazing with desire and fury. Adrenaline surges through me, my pussy throbbing as his teeth find flesh, scraping. He bites my tit before his lips close around my beaded nipple, sucking, the scruff on his face leaving a slight burn against my delicate skin. His hands grasp, grope, and explore the planes of my body. An electric current runs through my core as his fingers find my panties and yank them to the side, his lips returning to mine. “I hate you,” he growls.

“Fuck you, Cutter. I hate you too.”

The curve of his smirk against my lips sends my heart fluttering. Maneuvering himself between my legs, he grunts, “No, fuck you,” and thrusts inside me, hard and deep, unapologetically forceful, filling me with pleasure and pain, demanding my surrender with every stroke.

Air flees my lungs, and the world melts away. My pussy welcomes him, bathing his hard length in the wetness he provokes from within me. We move together like animals, raw and unrestrained, lashing out with anger and lust, soaking up every ounce of pleasure, tasting every inch of skin.

Sliding his thick, hard cock from my body, he turns me onto my stomach with a possessive force and re-enters me, fucking me slowly, tenderly, like it’s the last time we’ll ever be together. My hands fist the sheets, the movement causing the bra binding my wrists to tighten. His palm slips around my waist between my legs, pushing through my folds and caressing my clit in circular strokes. Teeth pierce the skin of my shoulder, lips kissing and sucking, leaving his mark as we grind, our skin slick with sweat.

Pressure builds inside me, heat expanding through my body in electric waves, tipping me over the edge, my moan muffled in the fabric of the duvet. Cutter’s body stiffens over me, a groan seeping from his lips as his cock pulses inside me. The roomfalls quiet except for our heavy breathing, the air soaked with sex. If we couldn’t have anything else, at least we had this, these moments. Wrapping his arm around me, he kisses down my spine, a paradox to his earlier rough touch.

“This can’t happen again, Kit.” His breath disperses over my skin, his tone bitter and bleak. Moving his hand to my wrist, he releases my bra, freeing me before climbing off the bed. The overhead light spills over him, highlighting the club insignia tattooed proudly on his back. Tears burn my eyes, but I don’t give them permission to spill over. When he disappears into the bathroom, I gather my clothes and leave before he returns.

Fuck him.

CHAPTER 3

THE CARNELLS

CUTTER

Kitty’s avoiding me. It’s my punishment for being an asshole last night. Scrubbing a hand down my face irritates my cleanly shaven jawline. I had a week’s worth of scruff on the bastard last night.

Last night while fucking Kitty.

Dammit, I shouldn’t have. It’s not fair to keep giving her mixed signals.Where the fuck is she?I edge farther into the club bar, my gaze sweeping over my brothers. Callan told me to meet him here at seven. It’s twenty past. He, Grease, and I have a run to go on, and I need the distraction.

The atmosphere is light tonight, but the air vibrates, the brothers want to rip from their skins and let loose. Pres is planning a party this weekend. Parties always bring fresh pussy. Bitches wanting to dip their toes in the sin pool before going off to settle down or what the fuck ever. The brothers love dirtying the good girls.

“You want a drink?” a prospect serving behind the bar asks.

“Took you long enough,” I growl. “Bottle of beer.”

“Sorry, Di was showing me how to change a tap.”

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