"Vincent," I moan as he licks the seam of my silk-panty-covered p.u.s.s.y. He hasn't moved them to the side yet, and it's driving me crazy.

The warm wet teases have me arching off the kitchen island, trying to press myself deeper into his mouth. Both of my hands reach for his hair, holding him closer, rocking myself into him. My legs spread wider, wanting to make sure he has all the room he needs to devour me, but he only keeps running his tongue over my seam of my lips through the material of my underwear.

I grip his thick hair tighter, holding his head until his gaze locks on mine.

"Stop f.u.c.king around. I said your name, so stop torturing me."

Flashing me a smug grin, "I would never cause you pain, I just want to enjoy my breakfast."

Releasing his hair, I shamelessly let my legs fall open even more. I glance down and watch Vincent remove his c.o.c.k from his boxer briefs and give himself a few quick pumps before his big strong hands grab my hips, pulling them until half my a.s.s is hanging off the side of the island. Gripping my knees, he puts me in the position he wants me, with my legs over his shoulders, him kneeling on the floor, and his gaze totally fixed on my p.u.s.s.y.

"Pull it to the side baby, show me you want my mouth there."

I brace myself with one arm and reach down to pull my panties to the side for him.

"You hair is all gone," he sounds surprised.

"I wanted to make sure nothing got in the way of my c.l.i.t and your mouth. If you don't like it you ca-"

I gasp instead of finishing my smarta.s.s remark when Vincent pushes his shoulders more into me, widening my knees further. He leans in until I felt his warm breath over my exposed c.u.n.t.

His free hand spreads my l.a.b.i.a to give him a better view of my c.l.i.t. When he starts to lick me in long rapid strokes I let myself fall back against the counter. My robe fully opens, exposing my bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s, making my nipples even harder.

Vincent is relentless with his tongue. He zeroes in on the exact spot that sends my back arching off the island. I try to slam my legs closed, but his shoulders stop me. They hold me pinned open, while his hand holds my l.a.b.i.a spread, the idea that he could feast on my p.u.s.s.y all day if he wanted and I couldn't stop him sends raw ecstasy shooting through my body.

I cry out his name as the climax rips through me. I should be shocked by how fast he can make me c.u.m but over the past few weeks I learned he knows how to play my body. I c.u.m when he wants me to, be it in seconds, minutes, or even hours.

Closing my eyes, I enjoy the tingling and euphoria while I try and calm my breathing. I can hear Vincent's heavy breathing, just as loud as mine. The slow rock of his body still between my legs lets me know he's still stroking himself.

I want him inside me but his thick tongue breaches my p.u.s.s.y, opening my v.a.g.i.n.al walls for him. My muscles contract and twist in the aftermath of my release. Both his hands slide under my a.s.s, slightly lifting me from the counter giving him a deeper penetration with his tongue.

"I can't. Not so soon," I moan, but my hips jerk into him begging for another.

Releasing my a.s.s, he lets my legs drop off his shoulders so he can rise between them. This counter is the perfect height for his c.o.c.k to align with my c.u.n.t. One swift push and he would be b.a.l.l.s deep, but he makes no move to enter me.

"I told you, you can cook. Best f.u.c.king breakfast I've ever had. I plan to eat here every morning," he says as he starts to rub the head of his c.o.c.k against my c.l.i.t, back and forth. "Although that does mean I should probably move in here. That way I can get room-service p.u.s.s.y in bed. I can just wake up with you sitting on my face every morning."

My body jerks in response. I'm not sure if it's because of what his words imply, or that my c.l.i.t is still sensitive from my last o.r.g.a.s.m, but I know he's going to make me respond. This is how he gets what he wants from me. I'm not sure why it matters, he's here every night without invite. He even stole a key. The man sleeps on top of me at night, like I'm going to sneak out on him or something.

I always give him s.h.i.t about it, but the truth is I love it. How could I not love this beautiful man acting like I'm his every breath?

"What if I want breakfast in bed?" I retort.

"Then I'll eat your p.u.s.s.y until you pa.s.s out, then when you come to, it will be ready. Sounds pretty d.a.m.n perfect to me," he says smugly, like that's all solved, and I'm sure he believes it is. I bet by the end of the day, half his s.h.i.t will be here. I'll b.i.t.c.h about it taking up my s.p.a.ce, then he'll probably f.u.c.k me on it to show me how functional it is.

I smile, looking forward to the fight. Leaning down over me, he kisses the smile from my face until I'm rubbing my p.u.s.s.y against his c.o.c.k. His body moves in closer until we're chest to chest. His hand shifts between us making me gasp as his finger explores my s.e.x.

His face drops into the nook of my neck, where he licks under my ear, until the lick turns into an open-mouthed kiss. Part of me wants him to leave a mark there, but the other part of me doesn't want to hear s.h.i.t from the guys about it. It reminds me how different we are. Just last week he begged me to leave little marks all over him, and I did without question.

His fingers rub the wetness into my c.l.i.t, drawing little circles.

"f.u.c.k, you smell so good. I just ate your p.u.s.s.y but I want it again. I want your smell imprinted on me. "

He replaces his fingers with the head of his c.o.c.k, rubbing back and forth, making me moan. There's no stopping the sounds pouring from me.

He doesn't enter me, just rubs the head of his c.o.c.k back and forth, making me cream with need.

"Come for me, Mackenzie."

My hips bunch and I do as he commands, crying out softly. My o.r.g.a.s.m hits hard and fast as the pleasure of it tears through me.

His body goes solid on top of mine and warm wetness spreads across my p.u.s.s.y. He groans into my ear as he continues to splash me, hitting not just my p.u.s.s.y but my thighs too.

Standing up he runs his fingers through the c.u.m he's left on me.

"This is how I mark you," he says as he rubs his c.u.m all over my p.u.s.s.y lips, down to my a.s.s. Moving my panties back into place, he adds, "You'll get little smells of me all day now. Remember that you're mine."

Pulling his boxers back over his half-hard c.o.c.k, he tugs me to a sitting position on the island with him still between my legs.

"Maybe you'll mark me back some day," he says, grabbing me by the chain of my dog tags and pulling me in for a kiss. I know he isn't talking about another hickey, or the scratches I leave on him. He's talking about my tags.

He asked me about the club one day and I told him only members or old ladies are allowed in. No sweet b.u.t.t, or in his case, sweet c.o.c.k. He wasn't too happy when he realized he was cla.s.sed as a sweet c.o.c.k and would remain that way until I give him my tags. Now he is always eying them.

I'd love nothing more than to give them to him, but I don't know how much longer I'll be around. My brothers were reluctant at first when they realized that this isn't all some game anymore, or me just trying to find out what the fed knows. Pres seems to like the idea of having him close, but I think that's for his own personal gain. Who wouldn't want a fed on their side? But who knows how they'll react if they see my tags around his neck. f.u.c.king him is one thing, but letting him into the club is another.

Things with the Five Aces have been quiet, and the guns still haven't turned up, they could at any moment, and I could be hightailing it out of town with nothing but memories of Vincent to hang on to, and I want all of them I can get. The thought makes me deepen the kiss.

I love the way he kisses. He always possesses and dominates my mouth. His tongue moves alongside mine the same way he moves when he's buried deep inside me.

The beeping of my phone pulls me from my haze.

"Don't," he says against my mouth, not wanting me to pull away. Then his goes off too.

"f.u.c.k," he grunts, pulling back from me. Moments later he's handing me my phone and answering his.

"Ca.s.sano," he says as I watch his face turn serous. He turns and leaves the room.

Sliding my finger across mine I unlock it, see the text, and I feel the bottom of my world drop out.

Pres: FUBAR Now I know why he took the call out of the room, it is about the guns. Pres doesn't send a FUBAR alert if it isn't bad...f.u.c.ked Up Beyond All Recognition. It's the end of the line. It looks like all the moments I was trying to store up have reached their limit.

It's funny how my father is taking another person from me that I love, even from the grave. And that's when it hits me. I am madly, totally, completely in love with Vincent. It occurs to me that my first thought isn't having to leave the club, it is having to leave him.

This man who is everything I ever wanted. He's so domineering, but he doesn't try to control or change me. He lets me be me and molds around me, and now I've lost him. It would be selfish of me to ask him to come with me. He loves his family as much as I love the club, I know that because of how much he talks about them, pressuring me to meet them, and I know it will rip him in two to leave his life behind. They're a big part of him. At first I thought he was getting all these random calls from women but soon I realized he has a bunch of nosey sisters. It's silly of me to even think he would leave them all. For all I know he could stop me from running, drag me down to the station. No, he won't do that, but he will try to get me to stay, tell me to fight it. There is no fighting it. I killed my father and this is the first time I've ever had a sliver of regret about it. Not because I'm sad about what I've done but what it's about to cost me.

I hear him coming back down the hallway, and I try to school my expression.

"Baby, I got to head out," he says, pulling me into his arms. "You headed to the range?"

"Yeah, they'll be finishing up fixing all the damage that was done to the wall today. I'll be glad when this whole mess is over," I reply, half wanting him to give me something. I know he's working the case. He already cleared our club of having any part in the homicides at which one of my guns was found at, but my murder weapon is still missing.

"I'm glad you got your range cleaned up. I know how much it means to you."

"You mean more," I say, letting my emotions get the best of me. This is probably the last time I'll ever see him.

"That so?" A smile plays across his lips.

"Yeah," I respond, pulling my dog tags from around my neck.

Leaning down he lets me slide them over his head, falling on his bare chest.

"I have to say, baby, I think they look better on me." A bark of laughter escapes me, leaving behind a burn. Who knew a laugh could feel like it was ripping your heart out? But I guess when you know it could be your last with the person you love, it's bittersweet.

I can't help but smile at the smug look on his face. It is one of the reasons I love him, it's part of why I gave him my tags even If I'm not going to be around to see him wear them. He never has shame when it comes to me, he doesn't care when people poke fun at him for being on the back of my bike or that I'm a better shot than him. He's always just so smug that I'm his, so it's clear he won. h.e.l.l, he might not want to wear them after the day is over but they are still his. Even if I never gave them to him they are still his and I want him to have something of me.

"They really do," I agree, leaning in to kiss them. I've had them so long it will be weird to not feel them around my neck anymore.

"I'll see you tonight, I'll bring dinner over and some of my stuff. It's a b.i.t.c.h going back and forth."

"All right," I agree, knowing I won't be here when he gets back.

"You really okay with this? I know my place is a little bigger but yours is closer to the club."

It breaks my heart more, talking about this. Planning out a life I know I can't have with him.

"It's perfect, but I don't have to help you move."

"How about I move everything, and when I'm done you just do all the work in the bedroom that night."

"Deal," I say, wishing he could really get to collect from me.

"See you tonight, send me some more of those dirty pics to help me get through the day," he says, grabbing my a.s.s and stealing another quick kiss.

"That's you who does that."

"Oh, maybe that is something you should work on."

"Not happening."

"You know what happens when you tell me no, baby."

Flashes of him tying me to the headboard and making me beg him to take pictures of me flash through my mind.

"I'll think about."

"Can you think about it when you're holding one of your guns? Because you naked holding one would probably hold me over for a year."

"Vincent."

"You're right, I don't want you getting naked at the range without me. I'll take some tonight."

"Will you just kiss me and tell me you love me?"

Before I know it I'm in his arms with my legs around his waist. "You never have to ask for that. I love you, Mackenzie." His lips fall on mine. I love you too, I think to myself. Then he's gone.

"Do not sign that f.u.c.king piece of paper, Casper." Pres snaps the paper from the desk ripping it in two.

"Don't be stupid. Who knows what's going to happen and this is just makes things easier for you now."

"I don't give a f.u.c.k about making things easier for me."

I had papers drawn up for me when everything went down with the Five Aces to hand over my part-ownership of the range. I won't let any of my s.h.i.t affect this club in any way. I already let some of it bleed over and I'm not going to let it anymore.

"Lucias." I use his real name so he knows how serious I am. "I don't know if I'll ever be back. It's better this way."

"No, you're two steps ahead, Mac, and it's not where you belong. I'm better at controlling the chaos, you're better at stepping back and waiting, and that's what I'm telling you to do."

I let his words sink in. He's right. Lucias has never steered me wrong and we've been in some pretty f.u.c.ked-up places on missions before. He's better at controlling the chaos than I am. When things get too close I lose focus. If there is one thing I learned when I was running missions it's always to let people do their jobs and you do yours. You're set up as a team for a reason. We all have our strengths, so let everyone use theirs, and this is Lucias's.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to ditch your phone, get out of town, and wait."

"Then what?"

"You not listening, Casper? I said you f.u.c.king wait," he yells the words at me in a tone I haven't heard directed at me in years.

"Yes, sir."

He visibly relaxes when he knows I'm going to follow his order.

"We don't know what-all they found so we have to wait it out. When I know Scribe will find you."

"Won't have to find her, I'll never lose her," Scribe says, handing me a new phone. "I also made you a goodie bag." He then pulls me into his arms, squeezing me tightly.

"I still can't believe you think we'd just let you take off like that, Cas. We're a unit, a family, only G.o.dd.a.m.n one I've ever had. I can't count how many times you saved my f.u.c.king life. None of us who were out there with you could. You've had our backs for years, let us have yours for once," Savage says, making a lump grow in my throat. I don't think I've heard Savage talk that much at once since he's been back stateside.

"For f.u.c.k sake, you better not cry on us," Scribe says, to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the group.

"Thank you, for everything."

"Now you're just p.i.s.sing me the f.u.c.k off," Pres growls. "We're a f.u.c.king team. We may not be out on the battlefield anymore, but we're fighting our own war right here. You don't thank anyone in this room for doing what they should be doing. And you don't get bulls.h.i.t ideas in your head about walking away without my knowing it. I know every move you make before you've decided to make it, got it?

"Yes, sir," I reply, feeling like maybe I haven't lost everything I love.