Down & Dirty_Axel Read online

  She tossed a hand his direction. “Come on in,” she muttered, then shook her head and left him by the front door to move closer to the gas fireplace in her small living room. The whiskey was no longer making her warm, but if she continued to stand that close to him, something else would.

  She waved a hand over her shoulder in the direction of the couch. “Have a seat,” she said, staring into the flames.

  “Come join me,” came way too close to her ear, making her jump. How could he be that quiet?

  She looked down at his boots... which were missing. What the hell?

  “Make yourself at home,” she said, laying the sarcasm on thickly.

  When his hand landed on her bare shoulder, she stared at it. His fingers were long, the nails neatly cut, not a speck of grease or oil underneath them. She inhaled, taking in his familiar scent that always made her body tingle. If she was a dog, she’d want to roll and cover herself in it. In him.

  Fuck.

  Her hard shell was beginning to split. She needed to seal the crack and do it fast.

  “Bella, please come sit with me.”

  She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes. “Again, Axel, not a good idea.” When his fingers squeezed her shoulder, she whispered, “Please don’t touch me.”

  “Maybe you can resist me, but I can’t resist you.”

  I can’t resist you.

  She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then spun on him, breaking his hold. “Why? Why, Axel? Why do you want me? I’m broken. Why do you want someone so broken?”

  Something she didn’t recognize crossed his face. “You’re not broken.”

  “You know just how broken I am. You know better than anyone.”

  “I know how strong you are.”

  “All show.”

  “It’s not.”

  “What do you need to ask me? Please ask and get gone.”

  “I’m not going to leave until you sit down and talk to me.” He moved to the couch, sat down and held out his hand.

  Ignoring it, she went to the other end of the couch and sat, leaving a gap between them. If sitting on the couch was going to make him leave quicker, well then... “Ask.”

  “I want you to come to my parents for Christmas dinner.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “What? Have you lost your mind?”

  “No. My mother wants you there. Jayde, too.”

  “Really?” She didn’t believe it.

  “Yes, really.”

  “Why would they want that?”

  “Because they know how I feel about you.”

  The air left her lungs as she remembered his statement in the storage unit. “What about your father?” When he didn’t answer, she twisted to face him.

  “We’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

  “Oh no. No, we won’t. I’m not going anywhere I’m not wanted. And we’re not a thing, Axel. There’s no reason I would come to your family’s house for a holiday. None.”

  “It’s a start.”

  “A start of what?”

  “Us.”

  Her heart squeezed painfully. “There is no us.”

  “But there can be.”

  She scrubbed her hands down her face. “No, there can’t. Your father will never accept me. I’m biker trash.”

  “Not true.”

  Whether he wanted to hear it or not, if his father couldn’t accept his own son, who was blood, then he’d never accept her, who wasn’t.

  She sighed and tried again because she had to get it through his thick skull that they would never work. “I don’t want you, Axel.”

  “Again, not true.”

  “You shouldn’t want me.”

  “But I do.” His chest rose and fell slowly as he inhaled deeply, like he was steeling himself for battle.

  She broke their gaze to stare back at the fireplace. “Though your invitation wasn’t exactly a question, my answer is no. You can go now.” She pushed to her feet and before she could round the couch to head toward the front door, his hand snaked out, grabbing her wrist to stop her.

  “I’m not leaving.” His voice was low and gruff, his tone forceful.

  She fought the shudder that wanted to run through her. She couldn’t show any weakness. She needed to stay strong. Yanking her arm, she tried to break his grip. “Let me go.”

  “I’m not letting you go.”

  Her heart thumped wildly in her chest at the double meaning of his words. “You have to,” she whispered on a shaky breath.

  “Give me a good reason why.” Without releasing her, he rose to his feet, and she avoided his searching gaze.

  Jesus Christ, he was killing her. Why couldn’t he make it easy and just go? “Because...” Her words got stuck in her throat. She swallowed hard and tried again. “Because you saw me... like that.”

  “So what?”

  “So what!” she exclaimed in disbelief.

  “If it doesn’t bother me, it shouldn’t bother you.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, the past flooding over her, bringing her back to the night all those years ago that changed everything.

  “That’s not up to you.”

  Suddenly, he grabbed both of her shoulders and shook her. “The fuck it isn’t! I have a say in this! I was there for you, Bella.” He slapped his chest. “Me. I’ll never forget what I saw, what he did to you. You wanted no one to know the extent of it and I’ve kept it locked deep inside of me. But I was the one who was there. I was the first one on the scene.”

  Fuck! She couldn’t do this with him. Not now. Not ever.

  She pointed a shaky finger toward the door. “Get gone, Axel! Get the fuck out of my house!”

  “It tore me apart,” he said softly, ignoring her demand.

  The blood rushed into her ears and without thinking, she slammed both palms into his chest, shoving him backward. “You? It tore you apart?”

  He caught his balance before falling back onto the couch. “Baby, if I could take that pain from you, I would.”

  “You can’t. Just like you can’t forget. Just like I can’t forget.”

  “Bella—”

  “You want to see why I’ll never forget?”

  Stepping back, she grabbed the bottom of her baggy sweatshirt, yanked it over her head and threw it at him. He caught it, balling it up in his hands as he stared at her, his nostrils flaring, his eyes heated.

  A crazy sense of relief swept through her at his look because it would have hurt so much more if she saw pity in them instead.

  She held her arms out, making sure he could see her clearly. So he could see everything. “You see that? You see how ugly he made me? He wanted to ruin me for anyone else.”

  “He didn’t ruin you. He was the ugly one. You’re still beautiful, Bella. Now more than ever.”

  She shook her head violently. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not beautiful. And it’s certainly not beautiful to be reminded every day of what I lost.”

  “I’m not lying. And you need to stop lying to yourself.”

  “I can’t do this, Axel. I can’t,” she whispered painfully.

  He cupped her cheek and asked softly, “What can’t you do, baby? I’m just asking you to give me a chance.”

  “I can’t...” She couldn’t let herself ever be that vulnerable again.

  He blew out a breath. “You can’t love me?”

  No. That wasn’t it. Not at all.

  She sucked in a shaky breath then confessed, “I’ve loved you my whole life, Axel. My whole life.”

  Axel stumbled back, his head spinning at her words, the air rushing from his lungs. He struggled to collect himself. “Then, what were you doing with that asshole?”

  Bella closed her eyes and whispered, “I was never good enough for you.”

  The pain in her words made his chest squeeze tight. “What are you talking about?”

  “We weren’t good enough for you, Mitch, Jayde... Hell, your family turned your own brother away. Your own blood.”

 
“He didn’t want us growing up in that mess. The constant conflict.”

  “It’s family, Axel. You deal with the good along with the bad.”

  She was so right. Only it took him until recently to realize that.

  “Now, you need to go,” she said softly. She held out her hand for her sweatshirt. “I need to cover up.”

  He held it behind his back out of her reach. “No, you don’t. I want to see you... Let me love you, Bella.”

  A small sound escaped her as he took the two steps forward and cupped her face in his hands.

  “I don’t care how many scars you have on the outside. I don’t care how many are on the inside. I love you… scars and all.”

  “Axel,” she whispered. He couldn’t miss the trembling of her bottom lip.

  “Bella, please.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, then both eyelids, down her nose until finally he took her mouth hard, deep and wet until her groan bubbled up between them.

  He pulled away, breathing hard. He brushed his thumb over the inch-long scar right below her left shoulder. He knew exactly where each and every scar was on her body without even looking. It wasn’t because he’d seen them after they healed.

  But because he saw every bleeding stab wound that fucker had caused. Because he was the first one on the scene. He was the one who found her crumpled in a corner of the kitchen, bleeding out. He was the one who rushed in, falling to his knees in a puddle of her blood to check her pulse and press his hands to the wounds in a futile attempt to stop the flow. But there were too many wounds for him to stop them all. He was the one who screamed into his radio mic to send all emergency responders, code three, to her apartment.

  He was the only one who knew she was pregnant after she begged for him to save her baby. He’d hardly heard her plea since she was only half conscious. But his blood had frozen in his veins when he saw the stab wounds along her abdomen.

  No one ever knew she was pregnant. Only her bastard biker husband, Axel and the medical staff who did the emergency surgery and who cared for her afterward in the hospital.

  No one knew. Not her family. No one in the club. Not her husband’s family.

  Not even Diesel.

  It was something he had to live with, to tuck away when she begged him not to say anything to anyone. Everyone thought she had to have the emergency hysterectomy due to the multiple tears in her womb. She had hardly been showing so it was easy for her to keep her secret.

  But it wasn’t so easy for him. He kept picturing her child. Maybe a little girl with her dark brown eyes and equally dark hair, with her spirit. A miniature of Bella herself.

  It took everything he had not to hunt the bastard down before Diesel did. Neither of them got the chance. The asshole was arrested, charged, and eventually ended up in SCI Greene where Doc and Rocky were both doing life. The former Dirty Angel was murdered in his cell. Though it was ruled a suicide, everyone knew better.

  And no one cared. Death had been too good for Bella’s old man. But at least she was finally free of him.

  While free of him legally, she was still not free from the damage and heartache he caused.

  Dipping down, he hooked her behind her knees and along her back, holding her close to his chest as he strode out of the living room. Her bedroom was easy to find since she only had one, her single-story rental house smaller than most apartments.

  After gently laying her in the center of the bed, he turned on the lamp that sat on the nightstand. The Harley bandana draped over it gave the room a soft orange glow.

  Her bed was small, possibly a double. It was as if she never planned on anyone joining her in it. But tonight, that was going to change.

  Standing at the end of the bed, he peeled his Henley up and over his head, tossing it aside. His cock twitched in his jeans as her eyes raked over his chest. This was the first time she was seeing him without a shirt on since they became adults. And this time he was definitely taking his jeans all the way off, so he could feel her against him.

  This was not going to be a quickie. No fucking way. He wanted it all tonight. He wanted all of her.

  “Baby, you can say I shouldn’t want you a million times but that doesn’t change the fact that I do. It’s only ever been you, Bella.”

  Unfastening his jeans, he pushed them down his legs along with his boxer briefs and pulled everything off in one shot, including his socks. He dropped them to the floor and stood, his cock hard and ready as he climbed onto the bed.

  She didn’t move, she didn’t try to escape. She didn’t say a word as he moved over top of her.

  He dug the fingers of one hand into her hair and tipped her head back. She closed her eyes as he lowered his. “It’s only ever been you,” he whispered again against her lips.

  Her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck as he crushed his lips to hers. Her other hand trailed down his chest, over his belly, until she encircled his cock, gently stroking him.

  With a groan, he broke the kiss and shoved his face into her neck as her fingers worked their magic, sweeping over the head of his cock, sliding along his length, brushing against his sac.

  He sucked in a breath as her hand moved faster. He couldn’t let her do that. “Bella, don’t. Let me take care of you first.”

  Her hand stilled but didn’t let him go, her breath coming in pants close to his ear. He kissed along her collarbone, over the colorful flowers of her large tattoo, over the thick, raised scar on the other side. He continued across her chest, placing a light kiss on each nipple, then the puckered scar on her right breast, then the one at her ribcage. He brushed his mouth across her belly, stopping at the two ragged scars above her navel and the one below it.

  He pushed her pants down far enough to trace his tongue along the long horizontal scar above her pelvis. The incision which removed both the life she’d created and the possibility of creating any future life within her.

  She whimpered as he did it again. He expected for her to tell him to stop, but she didn’t. Instead, she lifted her hips slightly and began to shove her yoga pants down farther. He pushed her hands away and grabbed the elastic waistband to tug them down her hips until her pussy was barely exposed. Pressing his nose into the apex of her thighs, he inhaled her scent and suddenly he was impatient to taste her.

  Scrambling back onto his knees, he yanked the pants down to her ankles and over her feet, tossing them to the floor. Starting at the tip of her painted toes, he kissed each one, over the top of her feet, up her calves, letting his fingers trail over her skin following the path of his mouth. Then he was there, settling between her legs.

  “Open for me, baby.”

  When she didn’t, he pressed her thighs apart gently, encouraging her to bend her knees.

  “Axel,” she groaned.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered, before taking her with his mouth, dipping his tongue inside her. “Sweet in the center just like your cupcakes.” He swirled his tongue around her clit. “As delicious as your icing.” Running his tongue through her folds, he captured her slick arousal. With his own groan, he sucked on her clit, making her hips jump off the mattress.

  He lifted his head. “As much as I love your responsiveness, we don’t have a lot of space here, baby. Don’t knock me off the bed.”

  “No. More.”

  With relief that it was two sentences and not one, he smiled against her soft, swollen flesh and continued to do whatever he needed to do to make the mews and whimpers escape her, to make her dig her fingers into his hair, her nails into his scalp. Her cries were music to his ears when he slipped two fingers inside her, finding her center hot and tight. Curling them, he stroked her spot until her body shuddered, and she slammed her palm on the bed, her hips shooting up, dislodging his mouth as she came hard. As soon as her hips returned to the bed, he was up and over her, plucking at her tight nipples with his lips and teeth.

  She was driving him crazy. He couldn’t be gentle anymore, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to make her his.


  He tweaked one nipple hard and her back arched off the bed. Sucking the other one deep into his mouth, he reached down and lined himself up against her entrance.

  He struggled to get out his question. “You want me?”

  “Yes,” she cried out, her head back, her eyes closed.

  “Bella, look at me.”

  After what seemed like forever, she opened her eyes and met his.

  “You love me?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  With a tilt of his hips, he thrust home.

  Home. Right where he belonged.

  This wasn’t in the dark cab of his truck. This wasn’t in the cold, stark storage unit. He was in her house, in her bed, in her.

  She had finally let him in. She had finally let him come home.

  Digging his hands into her hair, he pulled her head back and scraped his teeth along her throat then kissed the hollow of her neck.

  He began to move faster, harder, her wet heat surrounding him, drawing him deeper. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  Not nearly enough.

  When her heels dug into the back of his thighs, he realized she was saying something.

  “Harder, fuck me harder.”

  The last two times he had held back. He lifted his head. “You sure?”

  “Yes... please. Give me everything you’ve got.”

  Taking her mouth again, he did just that. He twisted both of her nipples between his fingers and began to pound into her as hard as he could. The sounds coming from her throat encouraged him to keep going. Her nails raked over his ass and up his back.

  She twisted her head to break his kiss. “Fuck me harder.”

  “Bella...”

  “Do it, Axel. Do it. Make me feel alive again.”

  Jesus. His pace skipped a beat, and so did his heart at her words. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. I’m not going to break.”

  Fuck, he hoped not. But he did what he was told, even though he knew it would push him to his limits, that if he fucked her at a frenzied pace, he wouldn’t last.

  “You might not break... but I will...”