Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

Her eyes were softer. There was love there, heat bouncing through a sadness I couldn't understand. Maybe she was overwhelmed.

I stood up, pulling her with me. My brain analyzed every little syllable and cadence when she spoke.

“Anton, please...”

“Please what? Kiss and make up the way we should've the second you got here?” I pressed my lips to hers, testing and urgent, craving her to kiss me back and really want it.

She did. Fuck, she melted, twining her tongue with mine, and it was absolutely beautiful. My hands ran up and down the mangled fabric wrapped around her, a relic of the dirty secret that almost cost us this forever.

“Babe, come on. I love you, and that's enough. You shouldn't be wearing this thing.” I pulled.

She absentmindedly passed the liquor carefully back and forth in her hands, turning while I gently drew the coat off around her. There was that hot fucking body again. My dick saw red and wanted to nest right against the crack of her sweet ass, rubbing 'til her pants came off, but I checked his greedy shit.

This was our moment to right wrongs and put the bloody, evil shit behind us. There'd be plenty of time for fucking her brains out soon, and when we did it was gonna be dynamite.

“Take it off,” I said. We both paused and listened as it fell to the ground in a heavy lump. “Your uncle's gonna pay for what he fucking did to you. He killed your old man and your ma, and he tried to make you kill me too, didn't he?”

She shuddered when I said the last part, almost like it was true. What the fuck? She hadn't really come here to put a dagger in my throat, had she?

I turned her around. She was melting again, her face cracking and breaking. With one arm, I slammed her against my chest, pulling her arms around me.

“It's gonna be okay. Soon as the motherfucker who caused this shit's dealt with, we're gonna give that thing a proper burial. Frame it or make something outta it. A reminder that all the death and hell that's come between us is over, babe. It's past. It's done because I say it is. I'm gonna fill that hole in your heart the same fucking way I love filling up your body.”

She kissed me, smiling as our lips pressed.

Finally. There she was. The Sabrina I'd been looking for all along, the dark haired babe I missed who lit my blood on fire and turned my dick to steel.

Oh, fuck. She tasted so soft, so wet, so warm. So irrevocably mine.

I couldn't hold the lust storm off forever. Soon as she was breathing regularly again and drying those eyes, I'd throw her down on the bed just a few feet away and fuck her seven ways to Sunday. And then seven more after that.

Shit, we'd go seven hundred fucking ways 'til the end of time with all the ways I needed her body hitched to mine.

A happy growl tore my throat like thunder. I broke away, sweeping one hand low to her ass, rubbing my stubble over her snowy neck.

“God damn, you're hot. I'm gonna blow the fuck up if I don't get something in me to cool off.” I reached for the little shot still dangling in her fingers.

Had the fucking thing pressed to my lips before she let out an earsplitting scream. Both her hands clawed at my arm, trying to force it down.

“Stop it, Anton! No, no, no, no, no...you can't drink, you can't drink that stuff!”

Was this some kinda fucked up game? Smiling, I fought her, wheeling her around. We crashed down on the bed in chaos, and I was laughing as she tried to fight that shitty alcohol outta my hand. By some miracle, I hadn't spilled the damned thing.

Now, Sabrina was right on top of me. Right where I fucking wanted her, except with a lot less clothing.

I fought her and she went at me like a mad dog. The whole thing only lasted ten seconds before I had the cool glass pressed to my lips.

“Anton!” She screamed my name, twisted in my arms, and then rammed her little face against mine.

Fuck!

The shot broke away from my lips and I saw it go spiraling to the bed with Sabrina over my shoulder, face first. She was wide eyed and wiping furiously at her lips a second later.

That was when I realized this wasn't just a stupid game.

My girl's chest jerked unnaturally. She couldn't breathe. Her throat was closing.

I pulled her up in my arms roaring, thumping on her back, holding her close 'til I smelled that nasty vinegar shit on her lips.

Shit, shit, shit! The shot glass lay right next to where her face had hit. She must've downed half of whatever hadn't soaked into the sheets.

I went ape, jumped off the bed, and dragged her to the bathroom. She was coughing and struggling against me like mad, but now it was because she really couldn't breathe. I had one arm around her and my other on the phone, howling into it as fast as I could when Grigor answered.