Bad Boy's Baby: Wicked Angels MC (5 page)

Tristan

I blinked.
Fuck!
Every nerve and cell in me cried out for release. I hadn’t been this horny in months, and I couldn’t believe Jenny was pulling away. She’d wanted it just as much as I had. A few seconds ago, she’d been on my lap, letting me play with her perfect, round, melon-like tits. I shuddered as I imagined the taste of her stiff nipples in my mouth. Her skin would be sweet, like sugar, but musky. She was the hottest little animal I’d ever seen, and I knew that I had to make her mine. Just thinking about the way she’d writhed and twisted in my arms made me so hot. My cock was chafing against my jeans and I shuddered. Jenny’s liquid green eyes were begging me for more.

I exhaled deeply and finished the rest of my beer. “Okay,” I said. “Got it. Where do you live?” I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t believe she’d broken apart from me and mumbled something about having to get home to her son. Suddenly, her phone call from earlier made sense. She wasn’t calling another guy to cancel on them, she was calling her
babysitter
. I slapped my head to my forehead and groaned.
Way to go, Tristan. Hope you enjoyed your one-way ticket to the Land of Blue Balls
.

“I can go get my car, it’s at the library,” Jenny said softly. She peeked up at me through her long red bangs and blushed.

Instinctively, I knew she was remembering our steamy encounter and turning it over and over in her mind. I chuckled. She was hot, that was something alright. She was the hottest little minx I’d seen lately, and yet, there was something so familiar about her. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but her blend of demure and ferocious reminded me of someone I’d known a long, long time ago.

“I don’t think you can drive, princess,” I said wryly. Pink spots appeared on Jenny’s cheeks and she stood up, drawing herself up to her full height. I was impressed; she was tall, but I was over six feet. Still, for a woman, she might have been the tallest that I’d seen, especially lately. She looked adorable and ruffled, but also a little drunk.

“I can drive,” Jenny said. Her head lolled back like a child’s and when she reached towards the bar to steady herself, she grabbed her glass. Instantly, it slipped off the counter and broke into a million tiny pieces on the floor. Jenny barely caught her balance, I had to grab her arm to keep her from going down with the glass. From behind the bar, the bartender glared at us. I held up my hands.

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” I said loudly, digging through my pockets and throwing a wad of cash on the bar. “I get it.”

As I supported Jenny and helped her outside, I chuckled to myself. No wonder they wanted me gone—first I bring in a chick and get her sauced, then pull her on my lap and grope her tits in front of everyone. Then she breaks a glass. I shook my head and laughed under my breath. Just another fuckin’ average day for Tristan Mayer!

“Where do you live, sweetheart?” I asked, holding Jenny at arm’s length and staring into her beautiful, sleepy green eyes. “You feel like tellin’ me?”

“I can drive,” Jenny insisted. She tried to put one foot in front of the other and almost fell over. I laughed, but reached out and grabbed her so she wouldn’t actually hit the ground. “I swear,” she added, her face pink with the effort. “I’m fine.”

I chuckled. “I don’t think you are, honey,” I said, supporting her over to my bike. “How about tellin’ me where you live?”

Jenny looked up at me with such clarity that it was hard to believe she’d been falling over just a few seconds ago. She bit her lower lip, managing to look both sexy and innocent.

“I live on West Street,” she said softly.

I frowned. “That ain’t such a good area,” I said, whistling under my breath. “You sure about that, honey?”

Jenny gave me a withering look and I burst out laughing. Even drunk, she had her wits about her. I couldn’t help but find her even sexier for that.

“I know where I live,” she said softly, but I could tell there was a backbone of steel under her demure sweetness. “You taking me home or not?”

“Of course,” I said sarcastically, grinning at Jenny. I handed her my extra helmet and helped her climb on my bike. “Hold on tightly,” I warned. “I don’t want you falling off.”

Jenny nodded. Suddenly, she looked almost like a little girl. I knew she’d had a hard day, but damn if I couldn’t get her sweet body out of my mind. She was one of the sexiest women that I’d ever seen. Maybe I could get her to agree to go out with me again.

As I drove towards the bad part of town, Jenny snuggled against me. She wrapped her arms tightly around my waist and clung on for dear life. I whistled when I crossed the train tracks and looked around. We were at one end of West Street, and I couldn’t imagine the other end was any nicer. I couldn’t believe a dame like this was living here. She should have been put up with a husband and a couple of kids, living in a nice place, closer to the river.

We pulled up in front of Jenny’s little house. I could tell that it had been painted recently. Someone had planted flowers in the yard and trimmed the hedges, but it was still pretty ramshackle. One of the shutters was hanging off the side of the house and it was small, probably two tiny bedrooms and one bathroom. It didn’t even look like there was enough space for an attic.

“You sure this is you?”

Jenny gave me a rueful smile. She seemed to have sobered up over the course of the ride. As she pulled my helmet off and handed it back to me, she tossed her red hair and I caught a glimpse of something shiny and golden at her throat.

My mouth went dry. Suddenly, my head was filled with another girl. A girl who looked very much like Jenny. I shook my head. No, there was no way it could be her. Even though Jenny bore a strong resemblance to this girl, she’d disappeared
years
ago. They couldn’t
possibly
be the same person!

Before I knew what I was doing, I reached into her sweater and pulled out the necklace. It was a gold chain with a tiny pendant in the shape of a four-leaf clover. My stomach did flip-flops and I stared into Jenny’s green eyes. The pendant she was wearing around her neck was tarnished with age. I remembered buying it years ago, saving up for weeks and then sneaking into the jewelry store during a trip to town.

“You sure about this?” The old guy behind the counter was holding up a shiny, new necklace: a four-leaf clover on a delicate chain. He gave me a look like he wasn’t sure that I was holding legitimate money. “This is a lot of money, boy.”

“It ain’t that much,” I snarled back. I dropped thirty dollars on the counter. “And that money is good. I didn’t steal it.”

The old man shook his head, then wrapped up the pendant in a cotton pad and a white box. “She’s a lucky girl,” he said softly under his breath as he handed me the little package. “I hope she knows how lucky she is.”

I blinked, feeling dazed. The pendant around Jenny’s neck was the same one I’d bought for Jennifer Foster all those years ago.

Jenny’s soft voice brought me back to reality. “Are you okay?” I realized she was looking at me strangely. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I stared at her. “Where did you get that necklace, Jenny?”

Her face changed. Jenny’s high blush disappeared and she swallowed a lump in her throat. Tears filled her eyes and she sniffed, looking down at the ground.

“A boy gave it to me,” she said softly. “A boy I knew a long time ago.”

My jaw clenched and I set my lips in a thin line. “That’s what I thought,” I muttered. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Jenny didn’t resist as I took her elbow and escorted her up the front walkway. It had been made from tiles of concrete but most of them were broken and shattered by now. A rage was filling me, my whole body. Jenny. Jennifer Foster. They were the same girl.

I closed my eyes and remembered the last time I’d seen Jenny. It was the night I’d taken her home on her eighteenth birthday. We’d fought—she wanted to stay out, but I was worried about facing the wrath of her parents. They’d always hated me, but now that she was an adult, I wanted to make a good impression. After all, I loved their daughter more than anything. I loved Jennifer Foster more than life itself. But I never got the chance to make amends.

“Jenny! Jenny!” Jenny’s mother ran down the driveway and wrapped her in a bony hug, holding her at arm’s length and looking over her thin, lithe frame.

Her father followed close behind. “Just where the hell do you think you’ve been?”

“Daddy, I’m fine!” Jenny protested. She twisted out of her mother’s arms and looked at me. “Tristan’s been taking care of me.”

“I bet he has,” Jenny’s mother simpered in a nasal tone. “Tristan, thank you, kindly leave my family alone now.”

“No!” Jenny cried. “I’m an adult! Mum, Daddy, Tristan is my boyfriend! We love each other!”

“Jenny, stop,” Jenny’s father said. He pressed a hand against his forehead and I guessed he was struggling with a hangover. “Enough of this nonsense,” he said. “Young man, thank you for bringing my daughter home. I assume we won’t be seeing you again.”

“No!” Jenny cried again. She twisted away from her parents’ grip and ran over to me. “Tristan is my love!” she cried loudly. “Why don’t you see that?”

I blinked, coming back to reality. The memories were too painful. Jenny was silent as I guided her inside. There was a pretty young woman, who I assumed was the babysitter, and a young boy with brown hair and blue eyes. I blinked.

It was just like seeing a ghost.

Jenny

I was still drunk, but standing in the foyer and staring at the man standing next to Phin, my blood ran cold.
No, it couldn’t be him.
I shook my head in disbelief. When I opened my eyes, the resemblance was still there, and it was stronger than ever.

The man who had saved my life, who had taken me to a bar and tried to seduce me in public, was none other than Tristan. Tristan Mayer. My first love.
My only love.
After Tristan, I’d never loved again. Sure, I’d gone on the odd date here and there. I’d even had another boyfriend or two. But no one serious, no one who lasted for more than a couple of months. It was impossible.
But it’s not impossible,
my mind insisted.
He’s right there. That’s him, alright
.

A new shiver when through me when I realized who he was. Did he know who I was? Was that why he had grabbed the necklace? My heart started pounding against the walls of my chest as I recalled the angry look on his face while we were standing outside. He knew. He must have known, ever since I told him that a boy had given me that necklace all those years ago. Eight, to be precise. Phin’s exact age.

I cursed myself for not having asked for his name.
What are you, stupid?
I thought, burning with embarrassment inwardly. I’d draped myself all over him like some kind of biker slut! But then again, I hadn’t been able to resist him. I’d never been able to resist Tristan. Not eight years ago, and not now. Even though I didn’t mind living like a nun most of the time, Tristan brought my most hidden desires out onto the surface. It was like part of me had been dead since I’d said goodbye to him, and that part of me wasn’t ever going to wake up again. But seeing him had rekindled it. And now, I felt it stronger than ever. The worst effects of the alcohol had worn off but I was still feeling tipsy and slow.

“Get out,” I said in a shaky voice. “Get out and leave me alone.”

Tristan looked at me. His face was a mix of confusion, anger, and hurt. I couldn’t even look at him without feeling like my heart was breaking in two. I didn’t want him around, he
couldn’t
stay, or everything would fall apart. My life, my whole life that I’d spent working to move on from Tristan would crumble at my feet if he gave me one more of those heartbreaking, lopsided smiles. I blinked, feeling tears well up.

“Wait,” Tristan said. His voice was deep and husky. “I need to talk to you!”

“No,” I said as calmly as I could muster. “Get out, now. Leave, and don’t ever come back. And don’t ever contact me, ever again. You understand?”

Pushing past Tristan, I picked Phin up and held him in my arms. At eight, he was almost too big to be held. He was tall, just like Tristan, and big for his age. And already, I could tell he was going to be heartbreakingly gorgeous when he grew up. I shook my head. Suddenly, I felt exhausted. I wanted a long, hot bath, and to sleep for hours.

“Come on,” I told Phin, setting him down on the ground. “Come on, Mommy wants to take a bath. Did Lindsey feed you your dinner?”

Lindsey, the babysitter, stood up from the couch. She was a nervous-looking blonde teenager and she shook her head, casting fearful glances to the side. I laughed out of sheer anxiety. I didn’t realize it, but Tristan looked incredibly intimidating.

“He was a little fussy with his dinner,” Lindsey said, trying to keep her voice at a normal tone. “He didn’t want his vegetables.”

Phin made a face. “Mom, she knows I hate squash,” he said in a petulant tone. “I told her when you got home, I’d have some carrots.”

“Why don’t we just wait until tomorrow, okay?”

Phin nodded. He swallowed, and I could tell he was scared. “Mom, who is that?” he asked in a soft, scared voice. “What’s that man doing in our living room?”

“I need to talk to your mom,” Tristan said. He looked at the boy with an incredulous gaze on his face and suddenly, I knew that he knew. The resemblance between himself and Phin was too strong to ignore, and it was making me feel dizzier than ever.

“No,” I said too forcefully. Lindsey and Phin looked at me with confusion on their faces. “I mean, this man gave Mommy a ride home,” I said, looking right at Phin, trying to calm him. “And it was very nice, but Mommy wants to be alone now.”

Before I could react, Tristan grabbed my arm. He dragged me into the next room and shoved me up against the wall. I felt my heart slamming across my ribs and I looked into his face.

“Are you Jennifer Foster?” Tristan’s voice came out in a growl and he glared at me.

I was too scared to speak. I could barely move, but I somehow managed to nod my head slowly.

.”

Tristan stared deep into my eyes. His blue orbs were the same gorgeous, haunting eyes they had always been. But I could tell that he’d changed. Eight years and he’d become a different man. He probably had a new woman every week, and then some. I shivered. His gaze was so penetrating, I suddenly felt naked. I was all too aware of how my breasts stuck out under the sweater and how my slim waist looked in the high-waisted skirt I wore. But Tristan’s intense gaze never left my face, and I felt myself shivering with lust and fear.

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” I said softly. “What happened was a long time ago. That’s over now.”

Tristan opened his mouth to reply, then slammed it angrily shut. I saw a muscle twitching in his strong jaw and I shuddered. He looked angry enough to rip my head off, and I knew he was strong enough to do so if he wished.

“It matters,” Tristan grunted at me. “It matters, Jenny.”

Hearing him say my name sent shivers through my body. It wasn’t like before wen I thought he was some sexy stranger. No, this was my first love. I had
history
with this man. I’d lost my virginity to him, and he’d broken my heart. Blinking back tears, I turned my head away so I wouldn’t have to look up at him. But Tristan had quick reflexed and he grabbed my chin in one of his rough hands. Before I knew it, his lips were pressed against mine and we were kissing roughly. His hands were in my hair and his face was smashed against mine. Tristan slipped his tongue into my mouth and caressed mine with it. I knew that he was angry, but the kiss was passionate and tempestuous. Part of me felt like he wanted to rip me apart, the other part of me felt like he just wanted to rip my clothes off and drag me to bed. Give me a good hate fuck, show me what I’d been missing out on for all these years.

As the kiss deepened, I was horrified to feel my pussy getting wet and soaking through my panties again. Just like at the bar, Tristan’s body had an immediate effect on my own. I felt arousal brand me until I was twisting my body and pressing up against him. Tristan slid his hands down my body and scooped me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I felt his erection shove between my legs and I moaned softly—even through the layers of fabric we wore, it still felt better than I ever could have imagined. Wrapping my arms around Tristan’s neck, I tangled my hands in his hair and tugged hard. Tristan groaned into my mouth and slapped my ass gently with one of his hands. The sensation was enough to make me cry out and finally, I broke apart from Tristan and licked my lips.

Tristan set me roughly down on the ground and stepped away from me. He stared at me and I felt my heart beating faster than ever. I wiped my mouth free of our saliva and tried to catch my breath. I felt like I’d just run a marathon. My body was pulsing with lust. As we stared at each other, I silently begged him to come back and pick me back up. It no longer mattered that Lindsey and Phin were in the next room. The goddamn Pope could have been in the next room and I wouldn’t have cared. All I wanted was Tristan, his strong arms around me, his mouth on mine, kissing me savagely. I wanted him to carry me to bed and slide my panties down my legs before spreading my thighs and diving between them with his tongue, and then his cock.

“Get out,” I said softly, shaking my head. No, I couldn’t ever be with him again. I couldn’t take that risk. I was a mother now, and I had to put the life of my son ahead of my own. Back then, Tristan had been dangerous. Now, he looked even more so. He was a big, tattooed biker who’d thought nothing of showing up and punching two guys out.

I shivered with lust. The conflicting urges in my body were warring, but, finally, the rational side won out.

“Get out or I’ll call the cops,” I said finally.

Tristan looked into my eyes, an expression of wounded rage on his face. Finally, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the door. Out of my life, for the second time. And unlike the first time, this time it would be forever.