Lay It Down: Bastards MC Series Boxed Set (17 page)

“Aren’t you miserable? Don’t you want me to change my mind?” His voice was curious.

I sighed, putting the plates in the dish tub. “I’m not. I don’t know.” I shook my head, turning. “I’m confused, I’m lost. I’m not sure what I want to happen. I love you. I love the kids. I want to figure this out. But right now…” Right now I had Matty, and I was finding myself. I walked back toward the table, meeting his eyes. The flash of anger I saw in his depths made me stop and lean against the wall. “Right now I’m trying to figure things out.”

“Alone? You're trying to figure out things alone?"

I didn't answer him, and he laughed bitterly, looking out our window. I didn't know what to say. Silence filled the room, and after a few minutes, his breathing became steady. Watching him sitting there, sipping his coffee at our kitchen table, was familiar, and for a few minutes peace filled the room.

He turned back to me. "How long have you been fucking him?” Will’s tone was light and curious, but I could tell he was forcing it to sound that way. I knew the look on his face well. He was barely controlling his anger.

The peace and calm in the room vanished instantly. He had some fucking nerve.

“Not as long as you’ve been screwing around with her,” I scoffed at him.

“Try again.” He shifted slightly. “I told you I was in love with her, not fucking her.”

I narrowed my eyes. Fucking liar. “I don’t believe you.”

He laughed, an eerie hollow sound. “You don’t have to admit it, but we both know that deep down, you know it’s the truth.” He glared at me. “How long have you been fucking Matt?”

There were so many things I wanted to say to him. I wanted to tell him I knew he was a damn liar. I wanted to yell that it was none of his business. I wanted to tell him he’d lost the right to question me. But I didn’t want to talk about this, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to talk about Matty with him. He could fuck off.

“What? Nothing to say?” He sneered. “Did you leave here and run straight to his bed?”

“Go to hell!”

“Oh, sweetheart"—he smiled nastily—"I’ve been there for years.”

Screw him. “You’re not the only one, buddy. I’ve been there right along with you!” I was shouting now.

He gave me a sad, mocking look. “Oh, that’s right! I forgot… poor Jo. Her life has been so fucking horrible." His face turned hard, and he raised his voice. "I’ve given up everything, sacrificed everything I had. For you. To give you this”—his hands swept across the kitchene“to give you a life you wanted and deserved.”

“A life I didn’t ask for! A husband who’s never home, a family that never spends time together, a job that breaks my heart. You think you're the only one who has sacrificed? You’re the only one who has lost something? You would see it like that!”

“Yeah, well, at least I had enough balls to stay and try to work it out. I didn’t run away at the first sign of trouble.”

“You didn’t run away?” I screamed at him. He couldn’t be serious. “Maybe you should have! But no. You had the”—I held up my hands and made air quotes with my fingers—“‘big balls’ to stay married and go behind your wife’s back. You were too fucking busy making a fool out of yourself over a younger woman to even notice you had a wife. And you sure as hell didn’t try to make anything work.”

“Jesus, Joey, get off your fucking sky-high moral horse!" he screamed back.

The cup of coffee he had on the table went flying through the air. I had all I could do to not jump at the sound of glass shattering.

His voice went ice cold. “You have some fucking nerve talking about the things I do behind your back. I’m not the one who has been having an affair for years.”

Really? “You know damn well I didn't have an affair.”

“Yeah.” He gave me a nasty look, obviously not agreeing. “Maybe you weren’t sleeping with him, but you might as well have been. There have been three people in this marriage for a long time now. Me, you, and the asshole you run to about everything. I should have known. The first sign of trouble and you run. Packed your shit and ran away.”      

“First sign of trouble? No.” I shook my head. “I’d say when someone’s husband tells her he doesn’t love her, it’s not the first goddamn sign. I was just too fucking blind to see the others.”

“I never told you I didn’t love you,” he snarled. “I never told you I was going to leave. I never fucking planned to leave!”

“Yeah, okay.” I sounded like a petulant child. “So when you sat there”—I pointed at the table—“and got pissed off because you didn’t want me to see what was on your phone and you told me that you couldn’t help that you loved her, you were what? Just letting me know? Trying to make me jealous? Making sure I knew where I stood?” He was infuriating. I knew he was trying to piss me off, and I was taking the bait. But if he wanted a fight, I'd give him one. I looked around, hoping to find something large enough to throw at him. Not finding anything, I stomped my foot. “You knew fucking well what I would do. I told you years ago if you cheated again, I would leave. This is on you, not me.”

“And where did you go? Oh, that’s right. Right into someone else’s bed. Obviously you were real heartbroken. You left because it was a convenient excuse for you. You could play the victim, saying I hurt you, and no one would be surprised you’d ended up with Matt. Because Matt always jumps in and saves you, doesn't he? One call from you, and he drops everything. Fuck the fact that you’re someone else’s wife. He’s been waiting for years for me to screw up. Couldn’t even give us some time to figure it out. You both forgot one little detail though.”

I raised my eyebrows; that man had quite the imagination. Yes, this was all a grand scheme for me to finally be free of him, to be with Matty. Jackass!

“You’re my wife! Not his. If you think you can just walk away that easily, you’re in for a nasty surprise.” He took two steps and was standing right in front of me. The vein in his forehead, the one that showed only when he was beyond controlling his anger, was starting to pop out. His voice was dangerously quiet. “How long have you been fucking him?”

My heart began to pound. He could try to intimidate me all he wanted, but he was still Will, and I wasn’t afraid of him. I’d had enough of this conversation; we weren’t getting anywhere. “I’m done talking about this.”

His hands came up to my neck, and I stepped back. There was nowhere for me to go, and I bumped into the wall. He traced the sore spots where I knew the bite marks were still showing, even though I’d covered them with concealer.

“He’s just a friend, huh? A friend who practices vampirism maybe?” His lips curled in disgust. “Did you enjoy it when he did this to you? Did you like him hurting you?"

"Don't you fucking touch me!" I pushed at him, surprised when he didn't budge. Will had suddenly turned from athletic into solid brick. I put my right hand on his shoulder, hoping to keep him from getting any closer. "Get your hands off me!"

He leaned in, pushing on my hand, forcing my arm back. "Did you tell him what a freak you are? Did you tell him you like it rough and he gave you what you wanted? Did he like hurting you? Did you get your kicks going out in public with his brands on you?”

I moved my head, trying to get his hands off me. They only tightened.
Asshole
. I wanted to hit him. No, I wanted to kick the shit out of him. I'd never been as angry with him as I was right then. A few years ago, I’d been big enough to do it. But now I was barely strong enough to hold him off me. I could hurt him in other ways though.

“Brands? Let’s be honest for a minute, shall we? You’re pissed that your sweet innocent little girlfriend saw them and will think you’re a monster.” Using every ounce of courage I had left, I laughed at him. “I saw how she looked at Matt, and I know you did too. Are you worried she isn’t as innocent as you think and now you’ll never be able to live up to her expectations? 'Cause we both know you never will!”

He inhaled sharply.
There, you ass!
Now he would move and I could leave. He didn’t move his hands but leaned in closer. I could see every pore on his perfect face.

“Did you enjoy another man putting his hands on you, wife? Did Matty make you scream and beg to come? Or did you have to beg him to take you to bed, like you do me?” His voice was barely a whisper.

What in the hell was wrong with him? I’d never seen Will act like this. I searched his eyes, hoping to find a clue. All I could see was his rage. I gave him one more shove and brought up my knee, hoping to connect with his obviously large balls, but Will was quick. One hand tightened on my neck and pushed my head back into the wall roughly. The other hand found one wrist, painfully squeezing and twisting it as he pushed my arm over my head and his whole lower body crushed mine, forcing my leg down.

I couldn't move. The grip he had on my neck terrified me, and I was afraid if I fought him too much, he’d break my wrist. Will had lost his fucking mind. Panic set in as I realized I didn't know what to do. I wanted to close my eyes to keep him from seeing how scared I was, but I wouldn't let him win. Instead, I glared back. "Fuck you!"

"Oh, you will!" The tone was cold and threatening, and a shiver ran down my spine.

His mouth came down on mine, and I jerked against the hand on my neck. He didn't back away, instead moving his mouth to my neck, biting at my skin, pinching it between his teeth then kissing each spot. It didn't hurt, but I struggled against him because I wanted him to get away from me, to leave me alone. His mouth traveled back up and found the tender spot right below my ear. His teeth were sharp, followed by his soft, wet tongue. He bit down. Hard. I cried out.

Will snapped his head back and met my eyes. "Tell me to stop, Jo!” His voice was low but demanding.

I couldn't catch my breath, let alone tell him to stop.

He narrowed his eyes and yelled, "Tell me to fucking stop!"

I shook my head, confused by his actions, fear gripping me, and because I didn't know what else to do. The anger in his face disappeared instantly. His eyes moved slowly from my face, down my neck to my chest, taking me all in. Keeping his hand on my neck, he moved the other from my wrist and fondled a breast. His hand slid down slowly under my shirt and lightly up my stomach and into a bra cup. He was warm, and I leaned into him. His eyes moved back to mine, watching me closely, and I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, thick fingers closed around my still sore nipple, and he squeezed.

I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I knew this was a scare tactic – it was working. His eyes were unnerving, glaring into mine. His expression was a mixture of puzzlement and disbelief, and for a brief moment, he looked sad.

Will liked the missionary position. At night. In our bed. And cuddling after sex. He only got authoritative and rough when we had a “sex night” planned, and he’d never been like this. He’d never hurt me; I’d never been scared of him. This would disgust him. But at least he’d walk away.

“Billy.” It was a plea, but I didn’t know if I was asking him to stop or if I was begging for the Will I loved to appear.

“You liked that.” It wasn’t a question, but he sounded confused.

He was right—I did like it, even though my mind screamed at me not to. My entire body was on fire, responding to him, forgetting that it didn’t belong to him anymore. His eyes flashed for a brief second, and the fingers released my nipple and he pulled his arm from my shirt. I closed my eyes, hoping it was over.

The hand around my neck tightened for a brief moment, tipping my head back. I could feel his breath and knew that he was close. Teeth tugged at my bottom lip and nibbled down my chin. Warm lips closed over mine and kissed me gently before he pulled away suddenly, and the hand on my throat let go.

I expected him to walk away, to leave without saying a word, and I felt relief at the idea. This wasn't why I had come here. This was wrong.

The hands that grabbed my upper arms, pulling me forward before shoving me into the wall, were a surprise. It wasn’t a hard push, but my eyes flew open in shock. I didn’t have time to react; Will’s hands were under my shirt, pulling it up and over my head before my mind even registered what was happening. His mouth was on me before my shirt was fully off. He bit my shoulder before pulling me forward and spinning me around.

He pushed me against the wall, more gently than he had earlier, and pinned my arms against my sides. One hand moved to my bra, and my breasts fell slightly as he broke the clasp. His left hand slid between the wall and me and cupped me, rolling my nipple between two fingers. His right hand slid under the side of my shorts, grabbing my waist and digging in fingernails. He nipped at my shoulder blade then ran his tongue across my back to the other shoulder blade, biting at it once more.

The hands changed places, his left grabbing my hip and kneading at it while his right teased my nipple. He chewed and licked his way up to my neck. Teeth bit down roughly. I yelped, as much in surprise as in pain. His mouth came next to my ear, and he laughed evilly. His left hand grabbed the top of my head and pulled it toward my shoulder, giving him more access, and his teeth dug into me all the way down to my shoulder. It hurt, but it snapped me out of my daze, and I tried to pull away.

“That’s what you like, isn’t it?” His voice was cold. “To be dominated. To feel like you have no control.”

“There’s a difference!” I spat out between clenched teeth, pushing against the wall, sure he’d drawn blood.