The possessive thought radiated through my mind as I watched her fall apart around me. Her eyes were wide, those big brown eyes staring into my soul as her body tightened. I palmed her tits, loving how full they were in my hands, squeezing her nipples. She responded with a groan, her head tipping back into the mattress, her back arching off the bed. I lowered my mouth to her tit, sucking on her nipple, grazing my teeth over it before I moved over to the other one and gave it the sameattention. She pushed up into my mouth harder, her hands making their way into my hair, pulling the strands. Pain ricocheted through my scalp as I thrust into her again, and again, harder each time.
Her pussy squeezed me yet again as I pushed her over the edge into oblivion, before I finally bucked into her a few more times and joined her.
Falling beside her, the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing.
Her hand picked up mine and she laced her fingers through mine, holding our hands up in the air as if she needed to see how it felt to have mine wrapped around hers. It pulled at my chest, and I desperately wanted to say something, but words were failing me. She sat up and looked at the back of my hand, her fingers grazing over the tattoo. I knew exactly what she was looking at.
“You didn’t.”
I smirked up at her. “It was a very poignant moment for me.”
“Alex, oh my god,” she smacked me lightly on the chest. “You had the note I sent to you when I was angry tattooed on your hand?”
“It’s my wrist actually, and yeah,” I replied. “It was to stop myself from coming back and climbing in your window every night.”
She looked at me then, a sadness drifting over her features. “I wished you did. I only sent that because you didn’t come back.”
I reached down to her club tattoo over her ribs. “You didn’t have this when I left.”
“I didn’t have any of them when you left,” she replied. “They’re addictive.”
She was damn right about that. “Why’d you get it?”
Orla closed in on herself. I saw it in her eyes, as she shrugged. “Just liked it.”
“The truth would be nice right about now, Or.”
“It was my home,” she said, finally. “When you left, I was in a bad place. I got kicked out of home, I got sick, hospitalised. When I got out, I was living on the streets. Butch got me cleaned up, he told me I was part of the family and he gave me a place to stay at the clubhouse. I got the tattoo as a loyalty offering to them.”
I sat up, not knowing any of that. “What do you mean your parents kicked you out?”
I’d known they were strict when we’d been growing up, that they hated the fact that I was a kid of a biker, and I was corrupting their sweet little angel. But for them to kick her out?
“I was pregnant, Alex, when you left. I never told you, and I didn't know how to in a letter or on a call so I just…did what I felt like I had to do.”
“You don’t have a kid, Orla.”
“I know,” she said in a whisper.
“Was it Brad’s?” I asked her, feeling rage rise inside of me. He’d been the one she’d fucked around with when we broke up. The reason I had to leave was so I didn’t see her fall in love with someone else.
“No,” she said, sadly. “I never slept with Brad.”
I got up off the bed, feeling the weight of what she was telling me. Strong emotions swirled in me that I didn’t understand.
“It was mine?”
She nodded, tears running down her face. My mind felt like it was splitting in two as everything from back then came crashing back.
“Alex.”
She reached out to me but I backed up, unable to understand why she didn’t call me. Why did she think she had to go through that alone?
She had been my solace, always, and I wasn’t hers. She had preferred to be homeless than to call me back, to tell her what happened. I would have taken care of her.
“I gotta get back to the clubhouse,” I say, lying through my teeth. She didn’t try to reach out to me again. She just nodded and sat on the bed, naked, and sad.
Grabbing my clothes, I left, locking the house on the way out and speeding down the road to the clubhouse.
