Yours: A Forever After Novella (3 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

~ Harleigh ~

I didn’t think about what I was doing, other than shutting Lyric up, and I realized my mistake as soon as my lips touched his. Where everywhere else he is hard sculpted muscle, his lips are warm, smooth and pliant. Everything about Lyric’s kiss is dangerous; a fact I should have remembered from when we were together and deliriously happy.

We haven’t always been like this; estranged and on the verge of either killing or fucking each other to death. There was a time that I thought we would be together forever, that nothing or no one could tear us apart. And I suppose part of me, the traitorous, bleeding heart part, still does.

It isn’t a well-guarded secret that our families believe we’re perfect for each other; they’ve said as much since the day I was born. If anything, they’ve spent our lives plotting and scheming up ways to push us together if it became necessary. Now that you know that, you’re probably asking why Lyric and I never broke the news we’re married to them then.

In the beginning, we had every intention of telling them. In fact, Lyric and I had it all planned out. We were going to ask everyone over to my parent’s house for dinner, and over dessert break it to them gently. In my minds’ eye, I could see my mom jumping up and down clapping, same goes for Lyric’s mom, Blaine. My dad wouldn’t be impressed I had run off and got married without his blessing, but after he let it sink in, he would have been happy for me too. Our siblings wouldn’t have cared as long as there was enough cake to keep them occupied. And Lyric’s dad, Jonas would have simply smiled at me before engulfing me in a huge hug and patting his son on the back.

Unfortunately, I never had the chance to see if my vision of that day would play out that way, though.

A week after we got married, Spike, having no idea I was his best friend’s wife, cornered me at the clubhouse in the kitchen and told me he had feelings for me. But it didn’t stop there.

After telling him in no uncertain words that I didn’t feel the same and never would, he gripped my wrists in one hand, pinning them behind my back. Pushing me up against the cold steel bench, Spike loosened his hold and used his hand to cover my mouth while he viciously and ruthlessly violated me in the worst way possible.

That day a part of me died. This man, one I had trusted since I could walk, a boy I had watched become a man, someone I considered a friend raped me. He stole something from me that I had only willingly given to one man; Lyric.

The thing is, when I think back to the aftermath of Spike’s attack, I don’t feel anger or pain. I know I should. Fuck, I should feel disgust and shame too, but I don’t. Instead, the only thing I’m capable of feeling when it comes to that day and Spike is betrayal. Not only toward him for breaking my trust, my body, and destroying our friends, but toward Lyric too.

He should have been there to save me. If it weren’t for Lyric getting distracted and stopping to have a beer with some of the guys in town, my husband would have spared me a lifetime of nightmares and shame.

For all the times Lyric told me it’s his job to protect me and keep me safe, he failed. He failed when it mattered most. In essence, that’s why I left. I stilled loved him, then and I do now. There should be no doubt about that, but I don’t trust him. I can’t.

Is it fair for me to blame Lyric for the sins of his friend? No. Should I finally tell him the truth about why I’ve been sending him divorce papers on the first of the month ever month for the last four years? Absolutely. But will I? That’s an unequivocal, no.

Why? Because what difference does it make now? What’s done is done; there’s no changing the past as much as we may want to. And trust me, I really, really fucking want to sometimes. At the end of the day, Spike is a member of Vengeance MC, a patched member, and Lyric’s friend. They are part of a brotherhood by choice and by patch, and the MC will always come first. I should know, my dad is Vengeance’s VP.

“Hey, baby. What are you thinking about so hard?” Lyric rasps, dragging the flat of his tongue down the column of my throat until it strokes the point where my pulse races.

Now I just have to decide if I am strong enough to continue lying to the man I promised I would never willfully deceive, or if I’m willing to stoop to using my body to keep distracting him until he forgets his own name.

CHAPTER FIVE

~ Lyric ~

Harleigh’s body stiffens underneath me momentarily. If I were anyone else, I probably would have missed it, but I’m not. I’m the man who knows her better than she knows herself, and I know when something’s not right with her. And even if it kills me or she does, whichever comes first, I am going to get to the bottom of this.

Flipping us over so that Harleigh’s straddling my waist, I wrap both of my arms around her and drag us up the bed until my back is resting against the headboard.

“As much as I’m enjoying our little reunion, we’re not taking this any further until you talk, baby.”

Harleigh leans in to kiss me, but I manage to pull back just in time.

“What if I don’t want to talk? What if all I want to do is ride your cock until you fill me with all of that hot come you’ve been saving for me?”

Her filthy mouth has me panting and desperate to tear her clothes off and do just that, but I won’t. For the sake of our marriage, I’ll restrain myself and her if I have to. Now that idea actually has merit. Tying Harleigh up would kill two birds with one stone. First, she wouldn’t be able to run from me. And secondly, she would be stretched out ready for the taking, and fucking take I would.

Noticing the sexy little smirk of triumph on her face, I shake my head and dig my fingers into her hips.

“Nice try, Angel, but it’s not going to happen. Not right now, at least. Later, after we’re done talking, I’ll strip you naked and fuck you as many times and as hard as you want, but that’s later. Now spill it.”

“Jesus, I forgot how much of an asshole you can be sometimes,” she mumbles.

“And I forgot what a manipulative cocktease you are when it comes to getting what you want, so we’re even,” I fire back.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” she muses with a small grin tipping the corners of her mouth.

“As you should,” I smile back.

Sliding off me so that she’s sitting beside me instead, Harleigh curls her legs under her juicy ass and folds her arms over her chest. While I wish she’d stayed right where she was, it’s better this way. I can’t concentrate when Harleigh’s within arm’s reach, especially not when her pencil skirt is riding up to the top of her thighs, and the delicate lace of her pink panties is peeking out at me.

“Jesus,” my wife hisses, making me realize I’ve been staring at the apex of her thighs practically drooling for a full two minutes now. “Some things never change.”

“Fuck no,” I chuckle. “You’re still as fucking hot as ever, and your pussy looks and smells just as good, if not better.”

“Look,” she starts with a small shake of her head. “Other than the fact I was supposed to be at a meeting half an hour ago, I’ve got more work than hours in the day. Not to mention, Faye and Dante are relying on me to babysit tonight, so I suppose what I’m telling you is, that I don’t think this is the right time or place for us to sit down and have a chat. How about I meet you somewhere tomorrow and we can talk over lunch instead?”

You would think a stubborn, hardheaded woman such as Harleigh would recognize someone cut from the same cloth, and that’s without taking into account the history we share. But no. She seems to forget that I’m just as stubborn, more determined, and impatient as fuck. And that’s on a good day. Today is not one of those days.

Reaching out to grip her forearm when she goes to scoot off the edge of the bed, I tug Harleigh back into my side and hold her there. If she thinks she’s getting away from me that easy, she’s fucking dreaming. I’ve waited what feels like a thousand lifetimes to finally find out why everything between us fell apart, so I’m not giving up that easily.

“Stop,” I growl, bunching the heavy weight of her ponytail in my fist. “You’ve got to stop fucking running, baby. This,” I state, gesturing between us with my other hand, “what’s broken with us is getting fixed now. I don’t care how long it takes or if I have to tie you to the bed to coax it out of you by using my fingers, mouth and cock, because like it or not, you’re stuck with me until I say differently.”

Harleigh’s eyes widen, boring into mine, assessing the truth of my words. Her mouth gapes open, but seconds later, she snaps it shut and frowns.

“There may have been a time when you could say that shit to me and get away with it, but not now. Not anymore, Lyric. For all intents and purposes, we’re separated, which means you don’t get to make those kinds of decision for me.”

Wrapping her fingers around my fist, Harleigh pries it from her hair ad extricates herself from my grasp, leaving me cold and feeling more bereft than I did the last time she walked away from me.

“I have my own life now, Lyric. An apartment, friends, and a job I love. Things I didn’t have in Furnace. Things I don’t want to let go of now,” she murmurs quietly.

Her admission hits me like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of me and leaving me reeling. Is that how she really feels; that she didn’t or couldn’t have that with me? Thinking back to the life we began together and I thought we both desperately wanted, I can see how Harleigh would believe what she’s saying to be true.

How I was brought up, the way my parents were together and with us kids, no doubt shaped who I am today and how I see relationships. I always figured as the man it was my job to be the provider, that the most important thing I would ever do is make sure my wife and children (when we eventually had them) were well taken care of and protected. However, what I didn’t factor in was that my smart, independent, firecracker of a wife would want to share in that role with me.

My mom stayed at home for the vast majority of my brother and two sister’s childhood. Right up until, Piper, my youngest sister went away to college four and a half years ago, mom was there for every football game, dance recital, skinned knee, and after school pickup.

Dad did his best to be there as often as he could, but running the most sought after tattoo shop in Colorado made it difficult for him to take time off. Especially since there are four of us. That’s not to say he didn’t do it, though, because he did.

I can remember dad cheering me on as I threw the winning touchdown pass as a starting quarterback in my junior year, and again the year after as a senior. Dad was front and center for all of Skye’s dance recitals, and Luca’s gigs when he started playing at Hounds on Thursday and Friday nights.

Dad was there every morning to remind Piper to take her medication and again at night before she went to bed. To this day if we’re at home, he still comes to check in on us before he goes to bed, even though, Piper is the youngest of us at nearly twenty-three.

That said, it was still mom who had our house running like a well-oiled machine, regardless of us all pushing and pulling her time and attention in different directions. Which is a big part of the reason why I never recognized how unhappy Harleigh was with the roles we’d both taken on in our relationship.

Scrubbing my hand over my face, I sigh.

“Harleigh? Babe, look at me please.”

When I’ve got her attention and her big green eyes lock on mine, I can finally breathe again. Being so disconnected from her is fucking killing me. Literally tearing me apart from the inside out. I’d give just about anything to close the distance between us and erase her fears and concerns, but I can’t.

For starters, I don’t know how to fix what’s broken with us until Harleigh spells it out for me in black and white. My assumptions have gotten me into trouble with her before, so that’s the last thing I need to be doing now; assuming anything. No more fucking guessing. No more beating around the bush. No more fucking games. All I want is the truth from her, no matter how hard it is to hear.

“You know you can tell me anything, don’t you, baby? Whatever it is nothing could ever make me stop loving you. If it’s me, something I’ve done or fucked up, you’ve got to let me know, though. As much as I’d like to say I can read your mind like I used to be able to, I can’t.” Seeing the wariness in her eyes, I add, “This conversation has been a long time coming, Harleigh, and despite claiming you’ve got a life here, friends, and a job, you’ve got a husband too. A husband who wants his fucking wife back.”

I push Harleigh backward so that her gorgeous ass is planted on the side of the bed and her eyes are focused on me and only me. Dropping down to a crouch in front of her, I run my hands up the outside of her thighs, raising her tight as fuck skirt to half way up her long, lightly tanned legs.

Then, using my shoulders to part her legs wide enough to accommodate my frame, I situate myself between them and take both of Harleigh’s hands in mine.

“Four years, Harleigh. You’ve been Mrs. Williams for eight goddamn years, and I’ve only had you beside me for half of them. I played by your rules by keeping our marriage a secret from our folks, but it’s time the rules changed, babe. We’re going to do shit my way now. No more secrets or hiding, Harleigh Belle. You’re my wife and I’m your man, and I don’t give the first fuck who knows it.”

“No,” she practically screeches. Harleigh’s face has paled, her eyes are wide and frightened, and if I didn’t know my girl better, I’d say she’s genuinely terrified.

Sucking in a deep breath, she tugs her hands from mine and wipes her sweaty palms down the front of her skirt.

“I mean, please don’t. At least, not yet. Give me a week. A week to sort all this out in my head before you do anything that can’t be undone.”

“What the fuck for?” I growl out. “You’ve had plenty of time to sort out whatever’s been fucking with your head. There’s no sense delaying the inevitable, Angel. This is going to happen, people are going to find out you’re mine, both legally and because I fucking claimed you as such over twenty years ago.”

I rise to my full six-foot-three height, towering over her and groan when I realize from this angle I can see straight down the front of her shirt. Harleigh’s ripe, full tits are practically spilling out of her matching lacy pink bra. Her nipples are beaded into tight little points, reminding me that’s it’s been too long since I’ve taken them in my mouth.

Blinking up at me, Harleigh stands with her arm wrapped protectively around her middle.

“Please, Lyric,” she says, her voice cracking on the last syllable. “Just one more week. We’ve kept it a secret this long, what difference will seven more days make?”

My temper simmers back to life. The fact that my wife doesn’t seem to understand the torture I’ve endured day in and day out having to live without her by my side, and in my bed everyday guts me. She might not have felt the same, the desperate loneliness that comes from missing the other half of your soul, but I felt it enough for the both of us.

Every fucking morning, I was reminded by cold sheets and a heavy heart that my reason for breathing was missing. When something happened during my day, I reached for my phone to call her, only to remember she wouldn’t pick up. I must have left her hundreds of voicemails, sent thousands of texts, most of them about random shit, but all of them because I just needed that connection with her.

But the worst part of my day, the part I dread the most is the nights. Coming home to an empty house sucks. Coming home to silence where there used to be music, laughter, the sounds of Harleigh banging shit around in the kitchen while trying to make us dinner is even worse. But crawling back into bed, the same one Harleigh and I shared for months, the one I fucked her raw in every night until we both passed out from exhaustion broke the little that was left of my heart.