“Me being sober isn’t gonna bring him back. It doesn’t matter now.”

“It does matter.”

“I have no one left.”

Tears blur my vision, then trail their way down over my cheeks. I dig my index finger into my chest. “You. Have. Me.” With each word I tap over my heart. “I’m here for you.”

He pours the liquid into the glass, right to the brim. I won’t lie. It hurts like hell. Did he even just hear what I said?

I want to slap his face, yell at him, but I can’t bring myself to raise my hand. I don’t want to hurt him. Instead, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and lay kisses on his wet cheek. The saltiness zaps on my tastebuds as my own tears fall.

This is a man at his lowest. I don’t think I’ve ever been with someone at this point of desperation and sorrow.

“Suds,” he growls. “Don’t try and stop me.”

“If you won’t put that drink down for yourself, then do it for me.”

Something dark settles in his eyes. I’m pushing a man who’s teetering on the edge. His chocolate pools brim with tears. It’s as if I’ve broken him that little bit more.

His warm lips smash against mine. The kiss is hungry, fuelled by passion and desperation. He flicks the stud against my tongue as he fills my mouth, driving me to the point of breathlessness.

This kiss is nothing like it was in Vegas. This kiss is opening up my heart to him, and breaking it at the same time.

There are so many mixed emotions that plague me when it comes to this man. I’m sad for him. I’m proud. Some days I hate him, and some days I really like him … or is it more than that?

Rocco’s fingers dig into my arse cheeks as he takes hold of me, lifting me onto the edge of the bench. I link my ankles around his waist and squeeze my thighs around him, locking him against me.

A garbled cry fires from my lips as he moves his hips between mine and rubs the tip of his hard dick over the thin cotton covering my clit.

With determined strides he carries me to his room, our lips fixed together until he lays me back onto his bed, kneeling beside my outstretched legs.

His hands tremble as he pushes the hem of my shirt up to reveal my bare breasts. He greedily draws a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking with desperation before he moves on to the other. I fist his hair in my hands, tugging as his mouth sends ripples of pleasure through me.

Before I know it, his hands have gripped my shorts and the wet heat of his mouth is lapping at the bundle of nerves buzzing at my clit.

Wait. What’s happening here? His brother just died. Does he even know what he’s doing?

“Roc,” I grunt out as he spreads my knees apart with his calloused hands, and thrusts his warm tongue inside me. Jesus, that’s incredible. The intense action of his mouth drives my senses into a tailspin.

“What’re you doing?”

Rocco continues his delivery of this tortuous pleasure, ignoring my attempts to lift his head. His fingers rake against my inner thighs. The relentless flicking of the stud renders me useless, unable to exercise my vocal cords.

He lifts my jelly legs to rest over his shoulders. I gasp as he trails a finger through my pussy lips, spreading the wetness right around to my back entrance, swirling the puckered hole with his finger. It stirs a flood of crazy sensations right through me. I can’t deny that I want this.

He slides a finger inside my pussy, and pushes another in the back until he can’t probe any farther. With measured thrusts he curves his digits, massaging me inside to that point of no return.

With trembling hands I fist his hair and gasp for air.

His tongue grinds faster and then his hot mouth sucks my swollen clit. I arch my back. A sharp cry breaks from my lips as I come. Pleasure thunders out to the tip of every limb. My body buzzes with electricity as the movement of his fingers slows, wringing out my release until I’m reduced to a shattered mess, unable to move.

“Why did you do that?” I whisper.

He crawls up my body and slumps his weary head on my stomach. I try to lift his jaw, to meet his eyes, but he resists, wrapping his arms around my waist tighter.

“I just wanted to feel something.”

“And did you?” Because I did. Something I thought I’d never feel again, let alone with a man. Do I have serious feelings for the dirty-talking grease monkey?

“I wanted this … I want you. I was gonna fuckin’ tell you that before they came.” His voice is thick with emotion. Tears brim in my eyes as I process what he’s just admitted.

He wants me?

“I’m fuckin’ ruined. I’m no good to you or anyone else.”

I swallow around the large lump in my throat. With tender strokes I run my fingers over his hair and hug his broad shoulders. “Please don’t say that.”

Hot tears drip onto my stomach and his upper body jerks. I rub his back, comforting him as he breaks down. My heart aches for this man, but I have to hold myself together. He needs someone to be strong for him.

“I’m here,” I whisper.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

ROCCO

Thursday

I’ve been staring at the ceiling since fuck knows what hour. Now the sun is well and truly up. My mind has been racing, processing what happened, and what I have to deal with in the wake of it. I did this.

Twenty-five and dead.

I’ve been holding his inheritance in trust for when he turned twenty-five. It was his as soon as he got out. Now I’ll be spending some of that money on his fucking funeral.

The MC won’t have any say in this. I will fight until my last breath to do it my way. The De Luca way. I’ll organise a private ceremony at a time and place of my choosing. Does the club even know he’s dead? Do they fucking care? Surely it’ll get back to them. Inmates talk. With any luck, I hope the cops pick something up in their phone conversations.

The mattress shifts, and with a soft sigh, a warm hand stretches across my bare chest.

“Hey,” she breathes, patting her hand over my heart.

I grip her hand and hold it there, this simple action calming the raging sea of emotions swirling inside me.

“Hey,” I say back, and let out a long sigh.

Even after what happened between us, she stayed. Thank fuck.

She turns onto her side to face me, tucking her tangled locks behind her ear. “Did you sleep?” Her eyes probe mine, but they’re not asking the same question that just came from her mouth. They’re asking a hell of a lot more … and I don’t know the answer.

“Some,” I mutter.

“Do you want some breakfast? Toast or something?”

“Nah, not real hungry.”

“I’ll be back in a sec.” She dashes from the room, her top creased and her shorts riding up her crack. She curses from the next room, no doubt about the seat. A minute later the toilet flushes and the sink tap whines.

She tiptoes to the bed and slides back under the covers, tucking the sheet under her chin, which is jumping up and down as she shivers. “Sorry I was busting.”

Those emerald eyes stare me down once more as we share a moment of silence.

“It’s my last shift at the café today, but I can stay,” she offers.

Stay.

“No. I need to be alone.”

“Are you sure?”

No.

“I’ve got calls to make, and I’ll probably have to go see my solicitor.” As much as I appreciate her offer, she doesn’t need to tag along for that. If anything, it’d make that shit harder. My emotions seem to run freer with her around. I don’t need to be making a tool of myself. I need to sort this shit, and it’s better if I do it alone.

“I can take the day off. I never take leave. I’m sure Tony would be—”

“Suds, it’s your last day. Go end on a high. I’m sure they’ve got something special planned for you, anyway.”