Vanished: A Bad Boy Second Chance Romance (16 page)

              Joey takes a deep breath and sets the statue back on the bookshelf. I can see him summoning up his courage to speak. This must be one hell of a story.

              “The last time I saw you…six years ago…I ran away.” His eyes look down and inward, like he’s reliving the experience. “I was humiliated by Brad. I just couldn’t face you. I couldn’t face anyone. I just left. I left Stonehill and was on the road for a long time. That’s when I met the Black Dogs.”

              The Black Dogs? I’ve heard that name before. But where? I play the name over in my mind.

             
Black Dogs, Black Dogs…

              And then I remember. My eyes go wide.

              “The biker gang?”

              Joey twists his lips and nods sullenly. The Black Dogs were one of the most notoriously violent gangs with branches in Boston and New York. Even the police gave them a wide birth. And Joey was a part of them? How?

              “They took me in and put me to work. I didn’t have a nickel to my name. At first it was just little stuff—going on runs for them, transporting money. I was a minor so I could get away with things the older guys couldn’t. I worked hard, and they liked me, and they offered me more. They brought me into the higher levels of the organization, and gave me more work and more money.”

              “Doing what?” I say, almost afraid to ask.

              “Enforcing. Muscle mostly. Making sure people paid up when they were supposed to. Tracking people down.”

              His words sink in and my legs go weak. I slump down on the couch and look up at him. I could never have predicted something like this. I’d played over countless scenarios in my mind over the years:

              He’d moved to California to live with a distant uncle I never knew about, or he’d just transferred schools or joined the military. But based on who he was back then, I
never
even contemplated he would have gotten involved with something like this. 

              “Did you…kill people?”

              “No!” he says emphatically. “Never. These were bad men, Mia, but I
never
crossed that line. I hated it. I hated what I was doing, but the Dogs were good to me. They protected me, and I knew that if I was with them, I’d never be that guy on the other end of a fist again.”

              My heartbeat begins to slow as I listen. I start feeling less and less like I’m going to have a breakdown. I can hear the earnestness in his voice. He needs me to believe him. But how can I? He’s been lying to me from the start.

              Well, that’s not true. He never out and out lied to me—he withheld the truth. And I can understand why now. If he’d returned out of the blue after six years and told me he’d been working as an enforcer for a violent gang of bikers, there’s no way I would have let him back into my life, let alone sweep me off to Paris for a romantic getaway. At least that’s what I want to believe…

              “They move around a lot, and they took me with them. I never had any time to myself. I thought about you every day, but I knew that with my life there, was no way we’d ever be able to be together.”

              “So you married Katarina.”

              He sighs deeply and hangs his head. This is too much for me, and I feel faint. All this excitement has been enough for a lifetime, and all these answers are doing is freaking me out even more.

              “It was a mistake. A one time mistake. We’d driven through Stonehill. No one knew I was from here. I never told them. But seeing this place…seeing you…”

              I look up. Our eyes lock, and I see the pain behind his eyes.

              “I got drunk, and she was there. It was a mistake.”

              “And she got pregnant,” I say, filling in the blanks from what Katarina had told me in the hangar.

              “No,” Joey says emphatically. I see the anger in his face. “She lied.”

              “She lied about being pregnant? Come on, Joey—“

              “She lied about who the father was.”

              My heart jumps, and I can feel a glimmer of hope inside me that wasn’t there a minute ago.

              “So…it’s not yours.”

              “It’s not,” he says, the tiniest sliver of a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “But she told me it was. I was going to leave the gang, and they didn’t want me to. I was very…effective, and they needed me. So they had to find a way to get me to stay, and that was it.”

              “But she is your wife?”

              “No,” he says with a chuckle. “She just likes to say that. She’s a real bitch.”

              He moves toward me and sits down on the coffee table, taking my hands in his. I’m quivering, but his strong grip soothes my nerves a bit. They’re warm and rough, just like him.

              “When I learned the truth, I knew I had to leave. They’d been stacking cash for a big move. They sent me to watch the warehouse, and when I saw it all…I knew I had my way out. I stole a truck, loaded it up and headed out. I mean—you can’t even imagine how much money, Mia. Blood money they’d been extorting from people, from
everyone
!” An impish smile comes across his face. “And I took it all. I took it all, and I ran. I was on the road for a while, keeping my head down until it felt safe. They never knew I was from Stonehill, so I eventually came back. When I thought it was safe…that’s when I came to see you.”

              I almost can’t believe this. It’s almost too much. It’s like something out of a movie or a crime novel or something, and here he is, telling it to me like it’s fact. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined my life or his life would go this way—that I’d be caught up in between the police, a dangerous gang of bikers, and the man of my dreams.

              “But it wasn’t safe,” I say. “Was it, Joey?”

              “No,” he says sadly. “They were still watching me, looking for a way to get at me. They were too scared to take me on, so they wanted leverage.”

              He stops and looks down, like he needs to summon the courage to say what he’s about to say. “And when I came here to see you…they realized they had the leverage they needed.”

              He grips my hand tightly, and I can feel that he’s sweating.

              “They were going to use you, Mia. Use you to get to me. That’s what Paris was. That’s why I took you. I thought they couldn’t find us there. I had to get you away from them. I was stupid. I was stupid, and I put you in danger, and I’m sorry. I can never make it up to you, everything I’ve put you through, and all I can do is apologize.”

              I can see the pain he’s going through right now, both emotionally and physically, and it hurts me to see it. He’s gripping my hand so tightly it almost hurts, and I don’t think he realizes.

              He’s strong, and now I know—dangerous too. But I know he’ll never hurt me. At the warehouse, around those men, I saw his strong side. It was unbelievable. He could protect me from anything. But here, back at my apartment, he’s showing me his soft side. He’s letting me in, and I know that I’m the only one he’ll ever do that for.

              Slowly, I lean my head onto his shoulder, feeling his warmth against my cheek and breathing in deeply so I can smell him. It’s so comforting. I can just imagine waking up next to him for the rest of my life and knowing he is mine and I am his. I feel his hand on my head, stroking my hair gently. His touch sends shivers up my spine. I still feel like a school girl around him like this.

              We never got to do all the things a high school couple should do. We never had our first date, our first dance, or our first kiss as teens. My heart pangs when I think of all the things we missed together, but warms again as I look up at him and picture all the things we can still do. There’s still time.

              As though he can read my mind, he leans forward and kisses me. Our lips meet, and it’s like electricity shooting through us. Something takes over me, and I drape my arms over his shoulders and pull him toward me. He kisses me eagerly and pushes me down on the couch. I’m so small beneath him. He wraps me in his strong arms, slipping one hand against the small of my back.

              I arch my hips up toward him, feeling the emotions of the last few days swell up within me, fueling my desire and arousal for him. I need him inside of me. I need to feel our connection, to solidify it and share my body with him and his with mine.

              I can feel his arousal through his pants as he presses his hips against mine, grinding with desire. Instantly I’m wet for him, and I kiss him deeply like I want to devour him. He pushes his tongue into my mouth, kissing me back furiously, his grip on my body tightening. His other hand slides up my shirt and cups my breast. I gasp, pulling my lips from his for just a moment, staring into his eyes.

              It’s like kismet. This was meant to be, and it was only a matter of time. He squeezes harder, pinching my nipple slightly with his forefingers. I snap back into the moment and pull his lips back to mine. Before I know it he has my shirt off, pulling it up and over my head. I want to be naked with him. I want us to share our bodies again.

              I lean forward, pressing my chest against his, and pull his shirt off. He winces.

              “Oh my God, are you okay? Should we stop?”

              “No fucking way.”

              He leans in and kisses me. I gently place my hand over his wound, not enough to hurt him. I wish my touch could heal him. I wish there was more I could do for him. But for now, I just want to be with him. I press my hands against his pecs, admiring their size and definition before tracing a line up to his shoulders and down his arm.

              His hands move to my waist, and I feel my top button pop open between his fingers. I pull back at his pants, but I can’t get them from this angle with him on top of me.

              “Take them off,” I whisper. I don’t have to ask him twice. He undoes his top button and I hear his fly unzip. I pull my pants down to my knees, and he sits back, sliding his off easily. I look over at him and see his thick erection, proof of his desire for me, and I’m overwhelmed.

              I climb forward, getting down on my knees between his legs and take him into my mouth. His moan of pleasure is music to my ears as I slide all of him into my mouth and push him down into my throat. I have to have it all, and I’m not going to gag this time. I can’t. I won’t.

              With all of his cock in my mouth, I tilt my eyes up and look at him. His head is thrown back to the ceiling, and I reach up with both hands and stroke his chest and abs with my fingernails, extending my tongue out of my mouth to play gently with his balls. I’m overcome with lust, and I want every part of him. I want nothing more than to please him. The things he’s gone through, the things he’s done for me. He deserves it.

              Finally, he looks down at me, and I see the pleasure on his face as I suck eagerly on his throbbing cock. I taste the pre-cum on my tongue, but I don’t swallow. I want to taste it. I trace a line from his chest to his abs to his thigh and finally reach down and cup his balls. He groans, and I slide my hand up and grip his cock as I pull my head back, using my spit to stroke his shaft as I suck the tip.

              “Oh, God, baby,” he whispers, inflaming me more. I suck him and jerk his cock using a twisting motion with my hand. He’s so big that I can suck him and still use both of my hands to jerk his cock. I feel his hands in my hair, and moan in response, letting him know I like it.

              He gathers it all together and grips it tightly in one hand, using his other hand to reach down and grip my breast. I can barely control myself. I love sucking his cock, and I want to make him feel good, but I need him inside me. My pussy is absolutely dripping wet, and my thighs are soaked. I stand, moving to sit on his cock, but before I can, he pulls my pussy to his face and I feel his tongue on my clit and I scream.

              “Oh, fuck!” My hand grips his cock hard, so hard that I let go immediately, thinking I may have hurt him. He presses his face deep between my thighs, his tongue pressing eagerly against my clit, and I cry out.

              And I cum.

              I cum so hard I lose all control. My body shakes, and I almost squirm off of him. But his hands grip tight around my hips and pull me down onto him, smothering his face with my pussy and thighs. I feel him groan beneath me, turned on by my orgasm.

              I turn and reposition myself so I can get to his dick. I pull his cock into my mouth and jerk it furiously, possessed by my lust for him. My pussy is so sensitive, and my hips buck back out of reflex. He understands, and moves his tongue from my clit and presses it inside me. His face is soaked with my juices, and his cock is hard as steel in my mouth. I jerk it hard and fast, sucking it at the same time. I feel a twitch, and his hips pull back quickly, slipping his dick from my mouth.

              “Oh, God!” he says quickly, sliding out from underneath me. “You almost made me cum, you know that?”

              He flips me easily onto my back and leans down, kissing me through a smile. His hand brushes my sweaty hair from my face, and I feel his cock pressed against the entrance of my pussy. The anticipation is too much, and I push forward with my hips, pulling his cock into me.