“Why do you call the small one Idiot?” I wrinkle my nose.
“Because he is one, shot his gun at a cookout trying to impress a club slut. Bullet hit Jameson in the leg.” I cover my mouth as the gasp flees it. “Rage wanted his head on a stick, but Jameson is a forgiving bastard.”
“So no punishment?” I rush out, mouth wide.
Grunting, Alec wraps his arm around the back of my shoulders, “Rage cut the boy’s trigger finger off, no shooting for him.”
I chance a look down at the boys hand and sure enough he’s missing his index finger. Alec guides me down the hall to his office squeezing my shoulder when we enter. The last time I was in here was when Alec found his mother. It’s changed. There’s a bed against the back wall now, and a panel of the wall is now a glass window. My feet carry me over to it. Looking out, I see our lake in the distance, beyond the fence separating his place from the outside world.
“A lot has changed.” I sigh.
“And a lot hasn’t,” he replies. “Want to hear something funny?”
“Always.” I smile over at him.
“Mason is married. Has a kid on the way.”
“Wow.” I wander over to his bed. “Why is that funny, though?”
“Guess who he married.” He quirks a brow, and my mind searches all the people it could possible be. Heidi.
“No way!” I exclaim.
“Yes way.” Damn, Alec was right about them.
“Did she give you my letter?” It shouldn’t matter now, but I’m curious.
His arms drop down, gripping the end of the table. “What letter?”
That fucking skanky bitch. I should have known better.
“It doesn’t matter. You sleep here?” I change the subject as I walk around, looking at all the things that make up the guy he’s become.
“Couldn’t sleep in that room without you.”
“Why do they call you Animal?” I peek at him over my shoulder. He’s leaning his ass against his desk, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle, arms folded, the veins bulging.
“I was angry when you left. Took it out in the fight pit.”
I move to his bed, wanting to know how many women have been in it. It’s not my right to ask, but fuck, I want to know. No, you don’t.
What if he’s had that bar girl Amy in here? Or the Gracie woman occupying Rage? Jackie? I want to change it all—click my fingers and just go back…start again, rewrite the mistakes.
“What are you thinking about?” His gaze so intense, it incites a ripple of longing through me.
“I was wondering why Glen doesn’t have a road name.” Lies.
He stands, taking a few steps toward me. “He was a prospect for a long time. Nothing stuck, so he’s Glen.” Reaching out, he strokes a stray hair from my cheek. My hand grabs his wrist, holding it to my face, warmth saturating me.
I lived so long in the dust of our relationship, I’m starved of affection, human contact that means something. Every follicle on my body rises in welcome to his touch.
“What were you really thinking about, Drew?” My name on his lips causes a mewing sound to purr out of me. Fucking hell, I’m pathetic.
“I was wondering…”
“Wondering…?” The pad of his thumb caresses my bottom lip, and my eyes close without permission.
“How many women you’ve fucked in that bed,” I word vomit, my eyes darting open to see his reaction.
That Alec smirk steals my breath. “I don’t have women in here.”
“Where do you have them?” I worry my lip.
“I don’t fuck with women at the club, Drew. You know I’ve never been into fucking club sluts.”
“Is there a girlfriend I should be worried about coming to pull my hair out?”
A chuckle rumbles his chest.
“She’d have to be fucking brave to take your ass on.”
“So there is a girlfriend?” A pit opens up in my gut.
“You’re my ol’ lady, Drew. That never changed for me.” A sigh of happiness causes my body sag. I know he wasn’t celibate for eight years, but he didn’t fuck around at the club and he didn’t have anyone serious—that means everything to me. He was broken without me too. No one replaced me for him.
“It’s always been you for me too,” I tell him. And then I’m in his arms, crashing down on the mattress, our bodies entangled, lips kissing, exploring the new bodies we inhabit. The atmosphere ignites the fire roaring between us. Relieved tears soak down my cheeks washing away the years of being apart.
We’ve been to hell and back, chewed up, spit out, and have bled for each other, but now we’re here breathing, living, loving—we’re back where we belong, woken from a bad dream.
Desperate hands tug and tear at each other’s clothing stripping bare, until we’re skin to skin.
Lips consuming.
The spark flickering to a flame burning us up into a ravenous inferno.
There are no clumsy touches like the first time, there’s only rough, hungry, skilled desperation for each other. He enters me urgently forcing my back to arch. “Alec,” I cry out. His hard cock filling me up, stretching me with every delicious inch of him.
Wrapping my legs around his back, I give him everything he’s giving me, thrust for thrust. We move in sync, fucking hard. Hands squeezing, scratching, pinching. Teeth biting, consuming. All the anger, desire, adoration bringing out the animal in both of us.
Twenty-One
Alec
Hours later…
Having her in my arms, sweaty and sated from my cock, quenches the thirst I’ve been living with for years. When soul mates untether, you’re left with a gaping hole inside your chest, eating away everything you thought you were. I didn’t fuck women in this club because I always knew this would happen. I never stopped searching for her, but sometimes, when the loneliness overwhelmed me, I’d search for her in other women. I regret that now. Nothing ever came close to being with her.
Her fingers drum on my chest. “When did Jackie bring food in?” She grimaces, then begins to giggle. Damn, I’ve missed that sound. The tray of now cold food sits discarded on my desk.
I roll her onto her back and suck on her neck. “Between your third and fourth orgasm, I think. I could be wrong, though. I was a little busy,” I tease, nipping with my teeth.
“I’ll allow the cockiness this time.” She sighs, stretching her limbs beneath me.
“You tired?”
“If I weren’t, it would be disappointing.” She bites her lip, wrapping herself around me. My cock hardens from the heat of her pussy rubbing on it. I tilt my hips and sink back inside her body, sighing when her swollen walls squeeze me in welcome. Nothing fucking compares to Drew or her tight little pussy.
It’s been a week since Drew’s been home, and you’d never know she left. She’s fit right back in, offering to help out behind the bar. Apparently, it’s how she made a living while she was traveling the country. Traveling is what she calls it; I call it running. But running is over now. No matter how much she didn’t want me to patch in when we were young, she belongs here. Her soul is at home amongst the mayhem and carnage.