Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(51)

“Not 'til you shut up and listen. I'm trying to do right by you. I f*cked up bad this morning, swigging all that booze. I'm man enough to admit it, and it's time to move the f*ck on.”

“You're a f*cking idiot,” she spat, slowly surrendering.

She knew I was too strong, and my grip told her I wouldn't let go. Not 'til I was good and ready.

“You think this shit's a game, don't you?” I growled, fighting to keep my eyes off her evil little lips.

“Jesus, no. I don't think that. Believe me, I know how much danger we're in, ever since that f*cking * kicked down the door to the place I'll never see again, and forced me to deal with you again. If it wasn't for the monsters, I'd have made certain you never got your hands on me or Alex!”

Fuck. That was a long, barbed spear rammed straight through my f*ckin' chest.

My hand swept up her back, grabbed her hair, and pulled so hard her face jerked up. I held her just like that when my lips went down on hers.

Kissing her was the safe choice, the only other option I had. It was either kiss her, or slap her across the face, and I wasn't a big enough bastard to slap girls unless they were naked and begging for it.

Goddamn, Summer tasted good. Even when I f*ckin' hated her, every miserable word pouring outta her mouth, her kiss burned like napalm on my lips.

She fought me for at least a solid minute, digging her teeth into my bottom lip.

This kiss had everything.

Pain. Lust. Heartbreak. All rolled together in a bitter dance of mouths.

I tasted blood before she stopped resisting, opening for my tongue. I slipped in, taking what was mine. What always f*ckin' would be, love her or hate her.

Twined it so damned hard and intense with hers that she lost it a hot second later.

My fingers tore at her hair as she jerked away, her lungs sucking precious air. My other arm around her waist only tightened, holding her to my chest, a short thrust away from making her feel the hard-on straining in my jeans.

“Fuck you, Joker. Fuck you,” she snarled, wiping my taste off her lips. “We are not having a repeat of last night. Not when you've spent the whole day drunk. Ain't letting you fool me again.”

“That the only reason?”

A hateful laugh escaped her lips. “You're joking, right? I really can't tell anymore.”

“I'm not. No more bullshit, babe. I already f*ckin' apologized for this mornin'.”

“Really?” she quirked an eyebrow. “You call that an apology?”

“Nah,” I growled, snatching her hand with mine, holding her fingers damned tight. “I'm sorry, Summertime. Sorry I walked the f*ck out without knowing you were knocked up. Sorry for kicking you to the curb when you were under the gun. Sorry for being so f*ckin' oblivious to everything. The boozing this morning? That shit's minor, stacked against all this.”

For a second, I thought she'd sling more shit my way, but her lips just trembled. Real soft and quiet.

“You know I'm telling you the God's truth, Summer. I ain't perfect, but I'm gonna do my damnedest to be a good dad, like one I never had. I'm gonna have the family I never thought I would since Freddy left this planet, mowed down in cold blood.” I looked at her, a killer fire running into my eyes. “That shit's never happening to you while I'm alive and breathin'. Never to Alex. You listen to me, babe, about going out on your own. Or I swear to Christ, I will strip you naked, throw you down in my bed, and chain you up like a f*ckin' dog. Then I'll be the only one who has to worry about feeding and diapering Alex.”

“You're a pig!” she shrieked, her voice dying in a shrill little whisper.

I smiled, looking down through her tank top. She must've taken off her bra when she'd gotten home because it wasn't hiding shit.

“And your nipples are begging to be sucked, Summertime. How 'bout we forget all this shit? You accept my apology, tell me you're gonna listen 'til the Deads are buried? Tell me we'll find some way to navigate this bullshit, and give our kid everything he deserves?”

She shook her head, but it didn't take long for the fight in her to collapse. My hand pushed her into my chest, so hard I could feel those buds beneath her shirt pulsing against my skin.

If I reached between her legs, stuffed my hand down her jeans, I knew I'd find a sticky, wet mess.

Hadn't taken what I really wanted last night. Now, it was f*ckin' calling to me, consequences be damned.

“Tell me, Summer,” I growled, moving my face against hers again, licking the tiny cut forming in the middle of my lips from her bite. “Fuckin' tell me, babe.”

Four more steps, and I'd backed her against the wall, watching her pupils widen in the dim night light. Her lips quirked one more time, hating me for being the bastard I was. Still failed to stop her smile.

“We'll try,” she said softly. “Just as long as you stop being such a prick.”

“Prick, huh? You'd think after all this touchy-feely shit, you'd have something else on your mind.”

She looked like she wanted to slap me again. Instead, I went for her lips, pressing my mouth down on hers so hard she didn't even bite.

We kissed. We lusted. We clutched shoulders, so desperate for each other's bodies I thought we'd leave scorch marks on the damned wall.