“Let’s clear this shit up right now,” he says harshly. “You are not leaving here. You will shut your fucking mouth. This isn’t high school or college or even fucking Disney World. This is my club, my house, and my goddamned rules. You will stay in my house, you will do what I say, and you will sleep in my fucking bed. When I decide to fill you in on more, I will, but until I do, you will stay right the fuck here! Now, do I make myself clear? Because I’ve got shit to do, and even though this was a pleasant surprise, I was in the middle of a meeting I need to finish.”
He shoves himself off of me, his look lethal and downright chilling.
“Stay,” he commands, pointing his finger at me like a dog. “And let’s get the record straight. We are not a gang. This is a club and a damn bar. We don’t do drugs. Never have, never will.”
With that, he turns and strides out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Just like that, he’s gone. And me?
I’m trapped.
Chapter Four
Cain
“Motherfucking cock sucking son of a motherfucking bitch!”
I’m an asshole. She’s here. The one person in my life that I love is here, and I just treated her like a piece of shit under my shoe.
As much as I might regret the way I dealt with her, for her own protection, she will have to do what I say and talk only when necessary for as long as she’s here, which for her will be like pulling her own damn teeth. The Calla I know would never keep her mouth shut. I’m fucked either way I look at it, but she’s safe here and for now that’s what matters to me the most.
She’s even more strikingly gorgeous than I remember. I’ve seen over a thousand pictures of her over the years, and not a damn one of them compares to seeing her in person.
Her hair, though. My God, that hair. The thick mass used to be curly, the long locks hanging down the middle of her back. But now? Fuck. It’s sleek and straight, sitting just a few inches above the curve of her ass.
Her ass, which was right in my face when I slung her over my shoulder. My cock is still hard thinking about the way her skirt hugged that plump, firm, and shapely backside that connects to the longest pair of legs I have ever seen.
And her tits. Fuck me with those, too. They’ve grown. My woman always had a nice rack, but now I could look at them for days... fondle them for hours and suck on them for the rest of my life.
My fingers twitch thinking about the way they would feel in the palms of my hands.
And her *. I have never forgotten how incredible she feels. I know for a fact how pink, wet, and tight it is. I can picture her smooth mound, the way it tastes. The way her muscles clenched my cock. Clutching. Squeezing tightly, as if she never wanted me to come out. I never wanted to. I could live inside her forever.
My beautiful wife doesn’t have any clue as to the lengths I’ve gone to in order to keep tabs on her all these years. I know her every move; her monthly visits to the day spa where she treats herself. Her school schedule. Her friends. I know every damn thing. Hell, I went as far as assigning my friend Manny as her personal bodyguard. Sick fucker that I am, there were several times I had him set up video in her room just so I could watch her sleep, and listen to the soft sounds of her breathing.
It’s not just her body that first caught my attention all those years ago. It was her brains. She’s brilliant. Queen of her own mind. She was never afraid to speak it, to say how she felt. And here I am crushing her as if she’s the one who hurt me, when it’s the other way around. I’ve single-handedly destroyed my marriage and my life, all for this fucking club. I hate it and everything it stands for.
The Sinners is not the same as it was when my father was alive. We no longer do anything illegal. All right, that’s not entirely true. They don’t do anything illegal. For me, this club is a front for the shit I do. It sure as hell isn’t drugs, as Calla obviously thinks. Drugs can fuck you up. You start selling that shit and the next damn thing you know, you’re fucking using it. Hooked. No fucking way do I want any of that shit around here; the things I do are bad enough.
For the record, I recognize my own hypocrisy regarding the law. I wanted to be on the good side of the law my entire life. My dad went and screwed it all the hell up for me by lying.