Shift (The Disciples' Daughters #2) (8 page)

My muscles were tense beneath my skin when I parked outside the farmhouse. My body was ready for a fight, ready to come out swinging. The memories of the bitches who hurt Ash, the knowledge that I reopened those wounds tonight, had me on edge.

I tried to breathe. I couldn’t go inside like that. I’d scare the shit out of her. Ash didn’t respond to confrontation. Aggression made her retreat every time. Besides, she didn’t deserve that. It was my fuck up. I needed to rein it in. Every part of me screamed to barrel through that door, to get to her and fix this shit, but I held myself back on the front porch.

The memories were still swirling. I could still remember one of the deans escorting me from the cafeteria. They asked for an explanation, and I gave them one. They asked for an apology, and I refused. They asked if I understood I had taken things too far. I told them they could go fuck themselves if they thought I wasn’t standing up for my girl who wouldn’t do it herself. That was what turned the two-day suspension into a week.

It didn’t matter to me. Yelling at those bitches, earning that suspension, got me the greatest fucking gift I’d ever been given.

A one-week suspension meant I was barred from school grounds, effective immediately. Assholes wouldn’t even listen when I explained I was Ash’s ride home. As my legal guardian, Gunner got called in. The dean wasn’t exactly thrilled when his response was to tell me I’d done good. I left about an hour before school let out. Gunner stuck around to get Ash, having insisted they send a note to one of her classes to let her know about the change of plans.

I was hanging around the clubhouse when she got there. She and Gunner walked in nearly an hour after school let out. He took her for fucking ice cream while he knew I was waiting. Whether that was to check in on her or bust my chops, I didn’t know. Probably both.

Ash ran right to me and threw her arms around my middle. Damn if that didn’t make me feel like a king. Having Ash close always did.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice muffled against my chest.

“What are you talkin’ about, Firefly?” I asked.

“It’s my fault you got in trouble.”

Hell no.

She was not going to think that shit.

I grabbed onto her arm, having to pull a bit to get her to release her hold on me—which made me feel even better. I led her out back where we could be alone. Bikers were nosy fuckers and we didn’t need an audience.

I’d had words with Indian after I got back. I told him straight up what had been happening and promised if my threat hadn’t put an end to it, I would see that it didn’t go on. He thanked me for watching out for his girl, not that he needed to. I promised him I would a long time ago and I’d be doing it with or without that promise as long as she let me.

Outside, Ash threw herself against me again. I let her do it, thinking I could get used to that. I gave her a minute to hold me, twirling my fingers through her blonde curls. Her hair was so fuckin’ soft, I couldn’t help but touch it when I got the chance. She never seemed to mind.

“Was Gunner mad?” she asked after a while.

“No, babe.”

She stepped back a bit to look up at me. Those blue eyes of hers were round and bright—too bright. She was on the verge of tears. “Really?” she asked, her tone worried.

I cupped the side of her face, making sure she paid attention to how serious mine was. “I promise. Once he heard why I did it, he was glad I did.”

Her eyes moved away from mine, her chin pushing down against my hand. I didn’t release my hold. Ash knew I didn’t like her hiding from me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

She shrugged. She was pulling back in the only way she could by not speaking. I gave her a look that told her that shit wasn’t going to fly.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. She tried again to step back and since I could see her mulling over her words, I let her make that play. It took her a while before she went on. “I guess I never wanted to think about it when I was with you. You didn’t go to school with us, so you didn’t know them. You didn’t know what they were saying to me. When I was with you, I could pretend it wasn’t happening.”

I didn’t like it, but I could accept it. Wasn’t like I could change the past anyway.

“Why didn’t you tell me once I transferred?”

The fear and worry in her eyes was not something I liked seeing. The fact that she didn’t answer me, I liked even less.

“Were you afraid I’d believe them?” I asked, hoping like hell that wasn’t it.

Ash just shrugged again.

Fuck.

“Dammit, Ash. How could you even think that?”

Her head went down, her beautiful face disappearing behind her security blanket of curls.

“I just couldn’t stand it if you thought of me that way.”

Her words hurt to hear. It hurt to think she even worried about that for a moment, let alone weeks. Still, I heard what she wasn’t saying and saw the opportunity I’d been waiting for.

“Why?”

“Why?” she echoed.

I didn’t say anything else, just waited for my answer.

She gave me one, but it wasn’t what I was looking for. “Because you’re my best friend.”

“Is that all I am to you?”

Her head came up in surprise. “What?”

I wanted her to say it. I wanted her to admit she hadn’t thought of me as a friend any more than I had of her. I wanted it, but I was tired of waiting.

I took two steps closer until she was pressed to my chest again, thrilled when she didn’t retreat. Without a word, I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and kissed her.

It was perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. Her lips were sweet, soft, exactly like I’d been imagining for years.

No, they were fucking better than that.

It killed me to pull away from them, to end that kiss, but I did.

“I don’t think of you as just a friend, Ash.”

She stared up at me, her pink lips—ones I was dying to get back to kissing—parted slightly, her wide eyes blinking like she was dazed.

“You gotta give me something here, babe,” I pleaded.

Then, my girl—my beautiful, incredible fucking Ash—gave me something. Lifting up onto her toes, she pressed her lips to mine.

That was it, everything I needed. It was the only thing I would ever need. Ash in my arms, giving me her sweet kiss…still, she gave me more.

Pulling back only an inch, her words whispered across my mouth. “I don’t think of you as just a friend either.”

And that was it. That was how Ash and I began. From that day, she was mine and I was hers. I swore nothing would ever be able to change that.

Until something did.

I lost her, a fate I never could have imagined. For nearly five years, I had to get on with life without her in it.

Until she came back.

For whatever fucked reason, I’d convinced myself that was it. She’d left. She’d gone off and had Emmy. She’d kept that beautiful little girl from me. I was pissed, more pissed than I could ever remember being, and I was done.

Until Cami told me Ash took off.

I hadn’t really known what the fuck I was doing when I jumped on my bike and sped over there. It had been instinct—pure and simple. Taking care of her was engrained in me, down to my soul.

Standing there with the memory of Ash’s first kiss in my head, I knew.

I was moving through the house then, my feet carrying me right to her door. I had the clarity of mind to knock instead of barging in, but I was about to lose patience when the door opened. There, in an oversized Disciples’ supporter tee she’d worn to bed for years, her eyes slightly reddened from tears, was my Ash.

Mine.

“Go away, Sketch.”

Not a fucking chance.

I backed her into the room. She fought it until I muscled my way passed the doorframe. She threw up an arm and turned her back to me, walking away to put space between us. I shut the door and flipped the flimsy lock on the knob for good measure.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“I didn’t fuck her.”

Her body locked up for a moment before she could hide it.

“Good for you.”

“Ash,” I called.

“I don’t care if you fucked some slut.”

“I didn’t recognize her. Not ‘til Cami said something. But I didn’t fuck her anyway.”

“Sketch, just get out. I don’t care.”

She could throw attitude all she wanted, I wasn’t going anywhere.

“If I’d realized who she was, I wouldn’t have fucking touched her at all. I would have thrown her ass out.”

Ash didn’t even respond that time. She just turned to glare at me, her arms crossed and hip popped out. She was a work of fucking art.

“Doesn’t matter, though. I threw her ass out once I realized I couldn’t fuck her. Didn’t matter that I had no idea who she was.” Still nothing from Ash, so I went on. “I couldn’t fuck her, Firefly. I couldn’t have her when she wasn’t you.”

That got through. The nickname her dad had given her as a little girl caused the crack and my confession imparted the shattering blow.

Her first retaliation was anger.

“You expect me to believe you haven’t fucked any club sluts since I’ve been gone? Are you kidding me?”

Call me a pervert, but her anger always did something to me. Ash didn’t get angry easily. She wasn’t one to show that kind of emotion often. When I got it, it always got to me. Probably because I knew I was the only person she would blow up at like that.

“No. I didn’t say that. I’ve fucked other women. You were gone and eventually I had to accept that. Now, you’re not gone. You’re right fucking here and I won’t settle for anything else anymore.”

“I—” she stuttered. “What are you saying?”

I moved across the room, not containing my grin when she backed into the wall, trapping herself. I got right up against her, feeling her tits press into me, loving the slight tremble I knew wasn’t fear moving through her, glorying in the way she jerked from my hard-on only to press back against it.

“I’m saying,” I answered, leaning down so my mouth was right at her ear, running my tongue along the shell, “you’re mine.”

“No,” I whispered, trying to hide the way my voice shook.

He was right there, right on top of me, his big, hard body against mine. I could feel exactly how big and hard he was for me.

He didn’t move away from my ear, his breath blowing across the sensitive skin when he answered, “Yes, Ash. You’ve always been mine.”

He was right. He was so absolutely right. I’d been his since we were kids. I’d been his when he gave me my first kiss. I’d never stopped being his in all the time I was away. No one would ever have me, not the way he did.

But, I couldn’t admit that to him.

“I’m not anyone’s.”

One of his hands, large and so warm it felt like it was burning through the t-shirt I had on, settled on my hip. Slow, too slow, it lifted, the shirt coming with it.

“Bullshit, sweetheart.”

I tried to come up with a response, I did. I turned my brain over, searching for a way to make him stop, to get him to turn around and leave. It should have been easy—there were plenty of things I could have said to make him walk away—but there was nothing harder in the world than denying yourself the thing you wanted most. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to stop this.

His lips moved along my jaw, just a whisper against my skin. Chills erupted down my body. It was intoxicating. He pulled back before he made it to my lips and looked down into my eyes, waiting.

Not giving myself a chance to think it through, I made the same choice I made once before. Standing at the edge of us with him waiting for an answer, I leaned in and kissed him.

That was all he needed.

He was on me, his lips coaxing mine apart, his tongue invading. His kiss was consuming, a tide pulling me under. I was drowning in it, and I went down happily.

His hand continued to smooth its way up my side, the tips of his fingers coming to the edge of my bra. The skin of his hands was rougher than I remembered, his grip stronger. He managed to caress and make me feel as though he was holding me in place. I was so caught up by the sensations, I missed his other hand moving to the front of my jeans until the button released.

“Sketch,” I gasped against his lips.

His head went back, his eyes harsh as he looked at me.

“No, Ash. You don’t call me that when I’ve got you like this. I want to hear you say my name.”

I was shocked, too shocked to say anything before he claimed my mouth again. Road names were sacred. I never knew most of the brother’s birth names. Their road name became who they were. For him to demand I use his real name was…

It hit me, and it hit hard. He’d never been Sketch when we were together. The road name had come later, after I left. Every time we were together, I had only called him Gabe.

I couldn’t process that. Not then. Maybe later, some point far down the road when I allowed myself to think about what we were about to do. In the moment, it was too much.

He unzipped my jeans, but his hand didn’t go inside. He drew his fingertips along the exposed skin between my hips and dipped only so far as to trace the top edge of my panties. I jerked in response, the sensation tickling and inciting all at once. I wanted more, I wanted it to stop—I wanted it lower, stronger.

In the midst of that torture, his other hand moved away from my breast aching for his touch and around to my back. I began to squirm in the little space he left me between him and the wall. My body was alight with a need I couldn’t vocalize.

The clasp of my bra released and my head fell back. He wasted no time moving from my lips to my exposed neck, licking and sucking at the skin.

“Let go,” he murmured to me.

“What?”

“My tee, babe. Let go.”

Fighting to drag my focus from his lips and the teasing his fingers were doing just above where I needed him, I realized my hands were fisted in his shirt so tightly, it was a miracle I hadn’t ripped it. I forced myself to release him.

In the work of a moment, he had my shirt off and away. I slid my bra down my arms. His hard body moved back into me, his hands dropping to my hips. He gripped me and some part of my brain understood the signal from my old life. I wrapped both arms around his neck and let him lift me. His body moved between my legs as they circled him, the solid plane of his stomach hitting right where I was desperate for him.

My moan turned into something far more feral when his mouth captured my nipple. His wet, hot tongue insistent in its teasing, I couldn’t take it.

“Please,” I begged.

“Please what, baby?”

I didn’t think about my words, didn’t weigh the repercussions of admitting it to him, I just blurted out the truth. “I need you.”

He didn’t hesitate. With one hand supporting my ass, the other dove into my panties and hit its mark. I cried out at the sensation, nearly coming just from that touch.

“Fuck. You’re soaked.”

I responded the only way I could, by shifting my hips and rubbing against his fingers. He didn’t leave me wanting. He rubbed my clit hard, circling, pressing. I was going to lose it. I wasn’t going to be able to hold back.

Just as I felt it take hold, as the first tremor of an orgasm moved through my body, he pushed his hand in farther and thrust two fingers inside.

I shattered.

I knew we were moving, but my focus was on the glorious spasms moving through me, the undiluted pleasure seeming to never end as he moved his fingers inside me. His name came from my lips like a prayer,
“Gabe.”

When it left me, I was on my back on the bed. Gabe was kneeling between my legs. I watched, rapt, as he shed his cut then pulled his shirt over his head. I was awe-struck at what he revealed.

Gabe had been getting tattoos since his eighteenth birthday when I bought him his first. He’d had more planned and drawn out than I could count long before then. I could still remember every bit of ink on his body before I left. He had eleven tats at the time. I’d sat by his side while he’d gone under the needle for each one. Gabe loved tattoos. He was in the second year of his apprenticeship to become a tattoo artist back then. I hadn’t heard if he followed that path, but he clearly hadn’t stopped loving the art.

He was nearly covered in ink. Everywhere. From neck to hands, all along one side of his chest, down his abs, and disappearing into his jeans. I wanted to study them, to spend hours looking at every piece of art he’d put on his skin, but I knew I wouldn’t have the chance.

Instead, I watched those tattooed hands settle onto my pale stomach. Dark on light. Unrecognizable skin on a body forever changed by carrying my daughter. It was like we were strangers, yet we knew each other well.

Gabe bent over me, his lips coming to my stomach. His hands pushed my jeans down my hips.

“You’re softer than before,” he said. I felt myself tense as he moved down to nip at my hipbone. I wasn’t in the same shape I once was, I knew that. I hadn’t thought of how different that would look to him. “More curves.” I held my breath. His eyes came up to me, a wicked smile on his lips and in his gaze. “I fucking love it.”

I inhaled a breath at his words and it turned to a gasp when he yanked my jeans and panties down my legs. He tossed them aside, ripping at the button on his own. His need amped up mine, and suddenly, it was like I hadn’t even had a release. I needed him more than I could remember needing anything in my life.

“Hurry,” I panted.

With a growl, he was back on me, his lips on mine, satisfying me and making me hungrier. His body on top of mine—hot, hard, and so ready. I could feel him between my legs and my hips lifted.

“I’m clean, babe. I don’t want anything between us,” he gritted out as I continued to move my hips against his length.

“I’m not on anything.”

“Fuck.” He pressed his hips down on mine, stilling me. “You need to fix that. Tomorrow. I won’t have shit between us for long. You go on the pill or get pregnant and give us another kid, I don’t give a fuck which. Actually, the second sounds pretty fucking good.”

He couldn’t have just said that.

No way.

I was in shock as he sat up and reached for his pants. He found a condom in his wallet and rolled it on, but all I could do was lie there. He seemed so sure this was going to happen again. And he said he…wanted me to get pregnant?

Gabe came back to me and grinned at what he saw. “Freak out later. I want to fuck you now.”

That was all I needed. The panic disappeared beneath the resurgence of heat. He was right.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His hands ran up my thighs, pulling my legs up to circle him. He sunk down onto me, kissing me. His tongue met mine at the same moment he pushed inside me.

“Gabe,” I gasped as he cursed.

He rocked in and out with slow, gentle movements. His whole body was tense and I knew he was holding back.

“Take me.”

His eyes flew open. “Ash—”

“Please, Gabe. More.”

His control snapped. His face went into my neck and he fucked me—hard, fast, and glorious. My hands went to his shoulders, my nails digging in. His panting breaths and groans in my ear pushed me higher still. Every thrust of his hips brought me closer to an orgasm that was going to destroy me.

“Ashlynn,” he moaned, “you feel fucking incredible, babe.”

“Gabe.”

He slammed into me harder than I thought possible.

“You’re mine,” he grunted. “You’re fucking mine.”

With his words, he thrust in hard and sent me flying over the edge. I cried out. His name, “oh my god”, my absolute devotion—I have no idea what left my lips.

All that existed for me was Gabe: his face the picture of gorgeous masculinity as his head went back and he roared his release, his cock still driving into me, his body anchoring me as I flew off into heaven.

I didn’t come down even as it left me. I lay beneath him, still floating.

He pulled out and got rid of the condom, but none of it registered.

I had forgotten what it was like. I forgot being with Gabe was like coming home. There was nothing on earth that could touch the feeling. Nothing I had ever experienced made me feel so complete.

When he came back to me, he switched off the lamp beside the bed before climbing in. His arms wrapped around me. I thought about fighting him, telling him it was time to go, but I couldn’t. If I had only one night, I was going to make the most of it. I was going to enjoy everything, and nothing beat the feeling of curling up against him. I had never forgotten that. I remembered it every night when I went to bed alone.

Gabe pulled the comforter over us and settled in. My head was on his shoulder, his arm curving around my back. My arm wrapped around his middle and I threw my thigh over both of his. He brought his other arm down, tracing patterns up and down mine. It was ecstasy.

And then he brought me crashing down.

“You’re mine, Ash. I waited five years for you to come back to me. Now, you and Emmy—you’re mine.”

Crap.