Zane (Reapers MC Book 11) Read online

  “Octavia. You . . . you do realize you won’t ever have a normal relationship with me, right?”

  Now I’m the one forcing him to look at me. “I do, and I’m okay with that. I accept it. I don’t think you should ever have to hide who you are from your partner, and given we’re going to be married soon . . . I don’t think either of us should be lying.”

  “Do you really mean that. The part about you accepting it and being okay with it?” He asks lowly. I can tell the weight our conversation is having on him.

  “No lies. Remember? Cross your sword with whoever you want. It won’t effect me.”

  “Jesus,” He says, shifting his eyes from mine to my lips.

  “What?”

  “I think I’ve hit the lottery with you, Cinnamon, and damn I wanna cash in right now.” Zane crushes my lips with his, hoists me up on the counter while his hands skim across my body.

  Everything hits me all at once. Every thought about how I’d hate this man, not wanting to be in the same room as him, let alone this close to his body. While my heart still hurts from Inc just throwing in the towel, I really believe Zane will not only cherish me but he won’t let me go. This is the man I’m going to marry, someone who I’d envisioned would’ve been my worst nightmare. A monster, a rancid beast. But no, he’s kind with every act he takes. Within a few days I’ve seen the way he puts his heart into everything he does, whether it’s as a leader, brother, or friend.

  I pull my lips from his, “Zane . . . promise me one thing.”

  “What is it?” He asks while his right hand goes down my thigh, toying with the edge of my shorts

  “Don’t hurt me like he did, and if you ever want to give up on us, talk to me about it. I . . . I couldn’t go through that again.”

  His expression shifts to something sullen. “Octavia, I wouldn’t dream of hurting you the way he did. But I can promise you I won’t ever make the same mistake he did.”

  He brings his lips back to mine before I can respond. His arms pull me closer to his body, forcing my legs around his torso. Our lips crash together like two meeting oceans, effortlessly and full of power. Our tongues collide like some of the strongest storms.

  I glide my hand back into his hair and entangle my fingers there, tugging just a bit. He either likes it or doesn’t, ‘cause I feel the way he’s rushing to get his jeans undone. I tug the fabric of my cotton shorts to the side, not wanting to waste time.

  Zane grabs the back of my scalp and yanks as he enters me, tearing his lips from mine and bites down onto my neck. I moan but keep it low since there is a child in the house. The last thing we need is for her to be rushing down the stairs from hearing what we’re doing and catch us.

  He rams his dick inside me while caressing my breasts through my shirt. Slowly teasing and kneading at them. I lift my hips, meeting his movements and bite my bottom lip while he glides against my g-spot, knowing the perfect way to please me.

  Zane bears down, causing me to stop lifting my hips for him. Obviously, he prefers to be the one in charge. I have absolutely no problem with that, pulling his body closer to mine. The way he nestles himself into me, plunging with the fullest force makes me want to scream, but I can’t. Instead, I gnaw onto his skin at the nape of his neck. It’s the only thing keeping me from crying out.

  He growls in pleasure, even as I dig my nails into his back.

  I’ve been fucked plenty of times, but I haven’t been fucked like this. It’s hot, heavy, and fast. Every time I had sex with Inc it was all about love making, less about primal need. With Zane, it’s the opposite. But, it’s everything I need.

  Chapter Nineteen

  About me: I can be mean as fuck, sweet as candy, cold as ice, evil as hell, or loyal like a soldier. It all depends on you.

  ~ Fuckology

  Octavia

  “Octavia, you got some packages!” Zane hollers from downstairs. I put down the new cell Zane just got me and hook it back up to the charger, head down the stairs and see what has to be at least ten boxes. Some of them are small, while others are bigger.

  “What in the world?” I question, going up to them. On the side of one it says to open that one first, so I do. At the top of it there’s a hand-written letter on old notebook paper. I unfold it and open it up.

  Octavia,

  I know you won’t ever understand why I supported Dad in all this, and I’ve accepted that. One day I will hope you forgive me. Chains told me you left a lot of your shit at home. Don’t know why you did it, but I figured you might enjoy some new stuff for your new life.

  Please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not tryin’ to buy your forgiveness or any of that. This is just a peace offering. One that I hope you’ll end up taking.

  I hope you’re staying safe, and sorry about the debit card incident, which I’m sure you know about by now. It was all Dad, not me. He said he was the one putting money in your personal account so he shut it down. I knew you had your business so, figured you would be okay. Plus, Zane wouldn’t let you starve or anything.

  Talk soon,

  Xander

  I had a feeling our father was the culprit of my bank situation. I should’ve known better than to put him on it. At least Xander might’ve left it alone. Digging my hands in the box I pull out the thick cardboard paper type of material and immediately see a case from Canon. There’s more of this stuff on the side, so I yank it out and see the Canon logo on more products. Immediately I can tell one is protecting a flash, while the other looks like it could be an additional lens. Jesus. I don’t even want to know how much he spent on this.

  Being a photographer surely isn’t cheap. Whether it’s the materials I need to actually get a shoot done, editing software, or props. It adds up very quickly.

  Zane’s already started on the other boxes and I weave my way through them. Most of it is photography equipment of some sort, while a couple of the other boxes are some of my clothes. Thank goodness. I didn’t want to keep wearing the same four outfits over and over again. It’s been getting so old.

  “This is photography stuff, right?” Zane asks, sounding a bit confused. Now I realize I never told him about my business.

  “Yeah, it is. I own a company, a photography company website sort of thing.” I blab out, acting like it’s not a big deal. It is a big deal, though. Big enough of a deal that I received a potential investment offer. One that I’m considering accepting because it could bring so much more revenue in for not only my company, but my girls.

  “Shit, why didn’t you tell me about it before?”

  I shrug, “I don’t know. I think I was so absorbed on getting to know you the past few days. I really didn’t think about bringing up my job.”

  “Well, not to be rude or anything, but shouldn’t you have? You’ll wanna do it up here too, right?”

  Actually, I hadn’t thought about that side of things yet. “Yeah, I’d like to.”

  “Perfect, so tell me about this shit.” He seems so eager to learn whatever he can about me at any given moment. It’s been a little over two weeks since I’ve been here. Meanwhile, Zane has been spending a lot of time with Sydney and I. I mean so much so that I wonder if he’s faking being the Prez of an MC. He hasn’t gotten called out of the house once.

  “The company I own is called Victorious Vixens. It’s kind of like Suicide Girls in a way, but these women post about their stories too. For example, some of them have gotten out of abusive relationships where their abuser said they wouldn’t make anything, that no one would even give them a chance . . . and they’re a virtual vixen for me.”

  “So, they’re nude models?” Zane cocks a brow, smirking like the dog he is.

  “Yes, and no. There’s a certain element of artistic expression I like to see. For example, it’s gorgeous to see a naked woman in a doorway with the sunset behind her, focused in on every crevasse of her body. But, have you thought of the impact it would bring if it was her naked silhouette, to imagine what those crevasses look like?”r />
  “Interesting,” Zane mutters, rubbing his hand across his jaw. “And you make money for this?”

  “Yep, through advertising and memberships. I actually have an investment offer from a well-known businessman. A man who already has his own line of Vixens established.”

  “Oh?”

  “His name is King Rhodes. Actually, I’m sure that isn’t his legal name, but it’s the name everyone knows him by. He owns a strip club in Las Vegas called Vixen’s. It’s one of the most prestigious strip clubs in the world. All the women who work there are alternative, pin-up style. They . . . appeal to a very specific style of patron. He believes that by combining our two brands it could be mutually beneficial. We could cross promote and do very well.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t think he’s wrong. I’ve had the offer on the table since before I left. Since I have a phone now, I’m planning to send him an email later and give him my formal acceptance. I really think combining the vixens could be smart.”

  “Yeah, sounds like it. Question for you.”

  “Shoot,” I reply.

  “How do you find your vixens?”

  “Instagram. Tumblr. Really anywhere. Mostly the internet.”

  Zane nods his head a couple times while he stares blankly out the window. He only does this when he’s using that brain and debating something. “Spit it out, will you?” I grumble, pulling some of my equipment out onto our living room floor.

  “You know I’m building a home for clubwhores. I think we have enough room for eight, but I’d only want to bring on six. You just said to me some of them have stories, comin’ out of abusive relationships and whatnot. You could offer them housing for working for you, and in return they could—”

  “No.” I spit out, making my stance clear. “These girls aren’t whores. They’re victims.”

  “Victims can like sex too you know,” Zane defends his idea, and now I’m standing here crossing my arms, wondering if he’s lost his mind.

  “I don’t want to offer women a place to stay and then basically tell them they’re sex workers.” I grumble, sticking up for myself.

  “They aren’t sex workers. Damn. Cinnamon, you know what I’m getting at. Please don’t twist my words or any of that shit. How about you give them the option to live here once their place is built and if they wanna come on as a clubwhore, they can. The choice is theirs. You know?”

  “I don’t want to make them feel pressured,” I explain.

  “Babe, they won’t, and if anyone does pressure them, I’ll eighty-six their asses.”

  “Fine,” I mumble, knowing if I don’t give in, he’ll just irritate me until I do. What’s the worst that can happen, right?

  Chapter Twenty

  “You will never always be motivated, so you must learn to always be disciplined.”

  ~ Bald Brothers

  Zane

  It happened again last night. If I’m right, this is the eighth night she’s said his name in her sleep. It shouldn’t affect me the way it does, but damn this shit burns. Octavia was in a relationship with him for years, so I know she wouldn’t just get over him overnight. Hell, I don’t expect that shit of her. If I did, I’d be the biggest asshole on the planet.

  What I expect and need is for me to know I’m makin’ some sort of positive impact when it comes to her. With every day that passes I know we’re getting closer. I see it in various ways, the way she smiles at me and blushes when we cook in the kitchen. Over dinner when Sydney says something ridiculous and I make a jab at Octavia like most couples do. When we walk down to the club and check in on the progress and she starts grabbin’ for my hand but stops.

  Everythin’ is pointin’ in the right direction, but every now and again I think she’s afraid to let down all her walls. But I’m not. She’s proven the type of woman she is to me. One who deserves much better than the man I am if you ask me. She’s accepting, loving, and ridiculously open-minded.

  We’ve been with each other for a little over three weeks, but my feelin’s grow for her more and more every day. She has this pull at my heart, and I can guarantee if she wasn’t the beautiful soul that she is, shit wouldn’t be like this.

  Not much has been goin’ on here. Construction is still goin’ on and the clubhouse should be done soon, probably within the next day or so. The foreman told me he’d give me a heads up as soon as it’s finished. On the other hand, Octavia got another package in from Chains the other day. It was her laptop, hard drives, and stuff like that. She’d been borrowing my laptop since she’s been here, but man, she ripped that thing open and started editing photos like it was nothing.

  Won’t even lie. I stood there behind her and watched everything she was doin’. She made that remark about a silhouette against the sunset, but I peered over her shoulders and watched exactly how she takes a nude picture and transforms it into art. Pretty fuckin’ magnificent if you ask me. I’m havin’ a bit of a hard time with how much I’m growin’ to like her. Call me crazy, but I figured this would be harder. I thought . . . hell, I thought it was the only option.

  Sydney’s out with Octavia takin’ her on a grand tour of the property. She’s showin’ her how to drive an ATV. Shit, Octavia about shit herself when she realized Sydney can operate a fully functional vehicle. She’s twelve though, wears a helmet and knows what not to do. My family taught that girl well.

  Since the girls were gonna be out for a while, I texted all the brothers and told them to meet me here at the house. We’re gonna have church up here in the livin’ room. It’s long overdue, as are a few things. Grim and Blackjack are the first two to arrive. Zorro and Axel both come in around the same time, givin’ each other nasty glances. Those two need to put their issues aside, especially right now. If you ask me, they’re still bitter about Shiloh steppin’ away from the arrangement they had. Hammer slithers in right behind them. Bull comes in alongside Tex, Dracus and Bolt who’re my uncles, or at least, that’s the easiest way to explain it. My dad’s sister is in a relationship with each man in that weird square romance. Three men and one woman. Hey, I’m not judging. Roxy has a kid with each of them, so they’re one big, happy, interesting family.

  Everyone’s here so I rise from my seat on the couch and shut the front door while everyone else gets settled. “We have a few things to discuss today, so I’d like to get a move on.” I explain, makin’ my way back over to my seat.

  Blackjack sits beside me, while Bull is on the other side of him. Dracus, Tex and Bolt are across from us on the other couch and Hammer stands behind them. Zorro’s in one armchair, while Axel’s in another. Grim stands next to Hammer.

  “Alright, let’s get started.” Blackjack confirms.

  “There are a few things I’d like to discuss with you, while I’m just gonna tell you about others.” I speak up, makin’ sure I look into every brothers’ eyes. They need to know this shit is serious.

  “Feels like we’re gonna have a vote,” Tex states, and I nod.

  “A couple of ‘em. We’ll start out with the easier two. Y’all should know Cheyenne has been at the Vegas charter. She’s been helpin’ out Sakura with medical shit, and they opened that clinic not too far away from the club. I’d like to offer Cheyenne the same set up she has down there.”

  “Why would we need to do that?” Bolt questions, furrowin’ his brows. Obviously, he’s not a fan.

  “‘Cause, Blackjack can only do so much. He’s well trained since he was a medic in the Army, but I feel we need a backup. One who’s more knowledgeable. Hell, none of you can say we haven’t been lucky this far. We were able to dodge a few deaths and . . . maybe we could’ve made a difference in the lives we did lose if we had someone else who had more knowledge.”

  Blackjack turns his neck to look at me. “I’m not takin’ any offense by this, and I think it’s a good idea to get another set of hands in here. But, Zane, there isn’t anything we could’ve done for your dad, Cracker, or Saffron. They were all too far gone.”
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  I don’t miss the way the rest of the brothers are shooting expressions my way. Some are pitiful, while others are somber. Dracus on the other hand appears to be a bit different than the rest. He looks guilty, which causes me to speak. “What’s goin’ through your mind, Dracus?”

  He shrugs, “We’ve all made mistakes, kid. Every single one of us. Just wishin’ I could take back some shit. Like Blackjack said, there wasn’t anything we could’ve done for them . . . but if I had . . . If I hadn’t been a dick to your uncle Cracker, he would still be here to help guide you through this shit. I would’ve been the one blown up. I had a tiff with him and we butted heads about who was goin’ where.”

  A sinking feelin’ hits me right in the gut. I rub my hand over my mouth as I process this. Is Dracus really tellin’ me if he hadn’t of given Cracker shit, he’d still be alive? Motherfucker. I don’t know how to feel right now.

  One side of me is furious, but the other side of me is convinced it wouldn’t matter if he was alive ‘cause no excuse would’ve mattered. He chose to not be in mine and Kade’s life and that’s on him. The only thing I still struggle with is why I wasn’t told the truth. If I had been, maybe I could’ve gotten some closure. Dracus on the other hand has three little girls who look up to him, who need him here.

  But . . . I’m confused as hell now. How did he get in a fight with Cracker when he wasn’t even there? Or was he, and we didn’t know?

  “Let’s not dive into the what ifs. Instead, let’s get to business. Shall we?” He and I will have a discussion in private, ‘cause I’ll get to the bottom of this.

  A round of ayes fill the room and I clear my throat, “All in favor of offering Cheyenne a position here at the club, offering her free housing, but helping her run a clinic either in town or on another property, say aye.”