Page 31 of Ky

“Angel asked me to bring it since you forgot it.” She replies, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her tits up, and I turn my back to her, adjusting myself in my shorts. Clearing my throat, I turn back around.

“Thanks. I was wondering where I’d put it.” I reply, feeling bad for yelling at her. But not enough to apologize to her. I unscrew the cap and throw back the bottle, taking a hearty drink.

There’s a slight bitter taste to it I don’t really take notice of, as I return the bottle back in my gym bag. Mariah walks to me, mesmerized at the way her hips sway in those tight as fuck jeans. For some inexplicable reason, I let her wrap her slim arms around my shoulders as she presses herself against me. I stare into her blue eyes, finding them captivating, as I lower my lips to hers. She runs her hands up and down my arms, eliciting goose pimples all over my skin, and I hate myself all the more as I pull her jeans down her shapely, slim legs. Mariah helps me with my shorts, as I’m feeling a little lightheaded, probably the fact it was hours ago since I last ate. And soon enough, I’m standing completely naked.

I rip the shirt from her, and that’s when I get a good look at her tits. They were fake as fuck, not the lush real globes Sera had, but they’ll do for what I had planned for them right now.

I lower my mouth and suck a hard nipple, hearing Mariah scream, and I wish, not for the first time, that it was Sera I was fucking. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself, as I lift her right leg over my forearm, and shove my engorged cock deep into her snatch. We both groan, as she takes her talon like nails and scratches down my back, making me hiss in slight pain.

I know what I’m doing with Mariah is wrong, but I can’t seem to stop myself, as I rut inside her like a madman. I lower my hand down to her clit, flicking it a few times, needing to come, but still not willing to leave her behind.

With a shout, I’m emptying inside the rubber I had the presence of mind to put on before we started this. She comes almost straight after, and I lower her leg to the floor, moving a few feet away from her.

Disgust over what just happened rears its ugly head, like so many other times before, and the recriminations begin. Mariah laughs, it’s a sound that normally annoys the piss out of me, but it doesn’t bother me as much right now. I quickly slide my boxing shorts back on and try to put some distance between us, focusing her eyes on the tattoo on my chest that reads Such is Life. And just above that is the scar left over from the gunshot wound I was left with when Angelo Bianchi shot me.

“I think you should go, get one of the ol’ladies to take you back with them. I need to stay and talk to Angel.” I tell her, the fog finally clearing from my mind.

Mariah didn’t look happy with that, but I was glad she didn’t fight me on it, as I watch her dress, almost languidly, like an elegant cat.

“Fine, if that’s what you want?” She purrs, trying to touch me, but I snag her wrist in a tight hold.

“Tonight was a mistake.” I sneer at her, watching her face fall, but I can’t seem to bring myself to care, before I let go of her hand.

“Seems you’ve been making a lot of those lately.” She spats in anger, then spins around, exiting the room, and slams the door shut. I was glad to see the back of her, because now I could actually feel I could breathe freely.

I had my suspicions about Mariah—suspicions borne of being raised in a motorcycle club. I wasn’t taking her sudden appearance back in my life as anything but a scam. I was close to figuring out her game. I just needed a little more time. Once I did, all bets were off. I was going to make Sera mine, finally, and Ink was going to have to accept it.

I take a quick shower, washing Mariah’s scent off my skin before I get dressed, in my uniform of jeans, t-shirt and cut, when Angel finally walks in. He was my makeshift manager whenever I would have a cage fight, and a slow smile overtakes his face when he sees me. I roll my eyes, did I have a sign on my forehead that said Just Freshly Fucked or something?

“The barracuda is wondering what’s taking you so long. I told her I’d see what’s going on,” he drawls, stepping further into the room.

I narrow my eyes. “I told her to get a ride back to the clubhouse with one of the ol’ladies. What’s she still doing out there?”

Angel shrugs, but doesn’t reply, hiking my gym bag over his broad shoulder with ease.

“I can take that.” I protest, trying to take it from him.

“Don’t you dare,” He warns, before turning, and heading back out. I shrug and follow.

***

I groan, and turn on my back in bed, my eyes glued shut with sleep, my head full of cotton wool. What the fuck happened? Yeah, I drank last night after the fight, once we returned to theclubhouse, but not that much that I lost track of everything. How the fuck did things go so wrong? One minute, I’m fucking Mariah in the dressing room of the warehouse where I had the cage fight. The next I’m waking up in bed the next morning, with her. This has happened way too often in the last couple of months.

I’m losing crucial hours of time. And the more I do, the more Mariah is getting her claws into me. I need to fucking find out what the hell’s going on. Yesterday.

I’m not going to let her worm her way back into my life and the clubhouse, especially if she’s drugging me to do it.

Something is definitely wrong, and I need to speak to Knox ASAP and see what he found out. It’s already been too long; I can’t wait any longer. Especially after what happened last night.

There was something not right about Mariah’s appearance months ago at the clubhouse, but I wanted to get to know my son, and forced my mind clear of thoughts of Sera. For the first few weeks, things were good between Mariah and me, and I was able to get to know Finn. Her goodwill towards me must have lulled me into a false sense of security, and only a few weeks after her arrival, she and I had fucked the first time.

Guilt and regret have lived inside me ever since.

My actions were inexplicable; I felt like I wasn't in my right mind. The out-of-body sensations each time point to some form of outside influence. Like drugs. Only hours later, returning to normal.

It made little sense to me that the first woman I was ever in love with had returned to my life after being gone for over four years. The years apart have changed her, and when I saw her again, it wasn't the girl I once loved, but a person I barely recognized. The only reason I didn’t tell her to get fucked was that she had a kid with her. A kid she said was mine. A kid she could’ve told me about anytime in the last four years. But she didn’t.

Now, I’ve caught Mariah in a number of lies, and I want to know what’s really going on; her evasiveness only fueled my suspicions, I’m just not sure what her game is yet.