Fire Inside

Chapter Eighteen At My Mercy

Five months later…

I was done, coming down from my climax and grinding into Hop. He had his hands on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh, grinding me down harder when he groaned into my chest.

I was astride him, he was sitting up, my fingers were in his hair and, as he came, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

When he was done, he slid his hands up my back and glided his lips and mustache up my chest to my neck where his mouth worked.

I let the sweet feeling of Hop’s mouth moving on my skin sink in and decided it was time. Friday night. The weekend. Hop was mellow. He’d just come. I’d just come. I’d known for a week. He had to know.

I had to do it now.

“Uh… honey?” I called.

“Right here, lady,” he murmured into my neck.

“How are you, um… feeling?” I asked, seeking confirmation he was in a good place before I laid it out.

His head tipped back and I saw his lips tipped up.

“You seriously askin’ that shit?”

It was, perhaps, a stupid question.

Then again, my news was huge and it could bring on a variety of responses and I wanted a good one.

“Well—” I started.

He wrapped his arms around me as he answered. “My dick is buried in my woman’s wet tight cunt and I just came. How you think I’m feelin’?”

Okay, it was a stupid question.

“I need to tell you something,” I shared.

He registered the look on my face and stopped smiling. “What?”

Here we go.

“Well, remember when I started having those headaches and we thought it was about me going to counseling and dealing with all that stuff, but you made me go to the doctor and he did some tests and told me to try going off the pill for a while and then, after that, there were those two times things got, uh… heated and we didn’t exactly—”

I didn’t finish because Hop pulled me off his cock, flung me onto his waterbed and covered me with his body. Before I got my breath back, he framed my head with both his hands and dipped his face close.

“You tellin’ me you’re havin’ my baby?” he asked on a growl.

“Uh… yeah?” I answered but it came out like a question just in case this wasn’t happy news. I couldn’t tell by the growl or the body throw. I also rushed on, “I know this is soon. We haven’t been together long but I’m sure about us and I’m, like, really happy about this baby and—”

I didn’t finish again because Hopper rolled us and he did this twice, testing the waveless capacity of his waterbed, so we ended up across the bed and I was again on my back with Hop’s weight pinning me down. He reached out an arm, pulled open the drawer to his nightstand, rummaged around and suddenly my hand was up and he was sliding a classic, stunning, diamond solitaire set in a simple, slim white gold band on my finger.

I stared at the ring and stopped breathing.

“At Christmas, got Cherry to bullshit you about buyin’ you jewelry and got your ring size. Then I got that. Waited for a good time. Now sure as fuck is that good time,” he declared while I deep breathed.

But he wasn’t done.

“You’re movin’ in. Your house is nice, babe, but it’s nice for entertaining. You don’t raise a family in a house like that. You raise one in a house like this. So we’re raisin’ our family in this house. You’re also movin’ in and doin’ it now. Like, this weekend. And you best put your girls to work. You’re gonna have my name before you push out my daughter and they got work to do, they wanna get the wedding planned in time.”

There was a lot there but I started at the end.

“Your daughter?”

“God loves me. Proved it with Molly, Cody, and you. No way, your beauty, He’d give me a boy when you can give that to a girl and I can look at both of you the rest of my life.”

Oh my God.

That was so beautiful!

“Hopper,” I whispered.

“So she’s a girl,” he declared.

Oh dear. He was being unbelievably sweet and I had to say what I had to say.

But this was Hop. He’d spent months proving he understood so I knew he’d understand.

“Hop, honey,” I put my hand to his cheek and smiled a shaky smile. “I love the ring. It’s gorgeous. I’ll move in. I’m fine with that. Happy, no… thrilled, actually. That’s all good. But we can’t get married.”

His eyebrows snapped together and he asked, “Come again?”

“We can’t get married,” I answered carefully.

“Lady, you want to keep your name for business, do it. Don’t give a fuck. But everybody who lives under this roof has the name Kincaid. We’re a unit in every way we can be, starting with our name.”

God!

That was beautiful too.

He wasn’t making this easy.

“Hop,” I took in a breath then told him, “That’s not it.”

His eyes moved over my face for a second. I knew he again registered my look so he invited gently, “Tell me what it is.”

“I don’t really want this moment spoiled but, I had the ring, the gown, the whole big thing planned with Elliott and—”

“Okay.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“Okay,” he repeated.

Was he giving in?

“You’re okay with us not being married?” I asked hesitantly.

“You gonna live the rest of your life with me?”

My heart warmed, my body softened under his, and I felt tears sting my eyes. “Absolutely.”

“You’re happy about our baby?”

Oh yes, but happy was an understatement.

“Over the moon,” I whispered, though I didn’t tell him then I wanted a boy.

A boy that looked like him.

His mouth went soft and he dropped his forehead to mine.

“Then okay, lady.”

He was giving in.

“Okay, Hop.”

“Now kiss me.”

I lifted my head and kissed him.

After some time, he broke the kiss, his lips moving over my cheek to my ear as he lifted his hand up, palm cupping my cheek, thumb dragging at my lips.

“She’s havin’ my baby,” he murmured in my ear and my arms, already around him, squeezed.

“Yeah.”

“Makes me happy, Lanie.”

“Good.”

“You make me happy, lady.”

A tear rolled out of my eye and my voice broke on my repeated, “Good.”

He lifted his head and looked down at me. “Have it all now, I made a baby outta love.”

He was killing me.

“Stop making me cry and kiss me.”

Hop grinned.

It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Then he did as ordered.

The next morning, way too early, I found myself with a bed head in the clothes I picked up from the floor, and in Hop’s Ram on my way to get donuts with my man.

I had no idea why I had to go. If Hop wanted donuts, he was perfectly capable of going alone and he well knew by now my order and backups if they didn’t have what I wanted, seeing as every weekend when his kids were at his house, Saturday morning we had LaMar’s donuts.

I also had no idea why I had to get up so freaking early to go. It was Saturday and anyway, LaMar’s kept stocked all day every day, especially Saturday.

Hop was insistent so I hauled myself out of bed, got dressed and there we were.

I was groggily staring out the window, sipping at a travel mug of coffee Hop planted in my hand on the way out of his house, and I watched LaMar’s coming closer.

Then I blinked as we passed.

“You passed it, honey,” I informed him, looking over my shoulder and watching LaMar’s get smaller in the distance.

“Give me your hand,” he said. Unthinking, I gave him my hand and looked at him.

“Are you going to a different LaMar’s or did you find another bakery?” I asked, hoping he was going to a different LaMar’s. If he was going to drag me out of the house to try a different bakery, I feared we’d have words.

Things with Hop remained good, great, the best, but that didn’t mean we didn’t fight and LaMar’s was definitely worth fighting for. If it was that early and I was out in the world with bed head in clothes I’d worn the day before, I wasn’t taking chances on any old bakery.

“Got up early, went out, got donuts. They’re in the back,” he stated and I blinked again.

Then I heard the ratchet of a handcuff. My head jerked down and I saw the bracelet on me and watched as Hop steered with his knee while he ratcheted the other bracelet on his own wrist.

My head jerked back up and I cried, “What are you doing?”

“Kidnapping my woman, takin’ her to Vegas, and getting married.”

My mouth dropped open.

I snapped it shut to ask, “What?”

He glanced at me then back at the road. “Babe, learnin’.”

That didn’t answer my question. That didn’t even make sense!

“Hopper, what are you talking about? We can’t go to Vegas!”

“Yeah, we can.”

My eyes narrowed on him. “I thought you were okay with us not getting married.”

“Never said that.”

“Yes you did.”

“You asked, ‘You’re okay with us not being married?’ I asked, ‘You gonna live the rest of your life with me?’ You said, ‘Absolutely.’ Never said I was okay with it ’cause I’m not. So we’re gettin’ married in Vegas.”

I stared at him then yanked my wrist, shouting, “You’re crazy.”

“Headin’ drama off at the pass and doin’ it using drama,” he retorted.

“What?” I shrieked and got another glance.

“Babe, knew, I fought it out with you then, we’d hit a drama. I love your drama, you know it, but just found out you have my baby inside you, just put a ring on your finger which, by the way, you didn’t take off.”

I didn’t.

I still had it on.

Gah!

“Didn’t want to spoil the moment,” he continued. “You passed out after our baby celebration last night. While you were sleepin’, I decided to fight off drama with drama. Commence kidnapping which, over the next few hours, will go over state lines. Twice.”

“You still aren’t making sense, Hop.”

Suddenly, he pulled off the road, put the truck in neutral and turned his full attention to me.

“You got somethin’ twisted up there,” he pointed at my head, “about a wedding. You didn’t say shit about a marriage. You said we can’t get married, not be married.”

“You’re kidnapping me on a technicality?” I shouted and he grinned.

Then he used our hands cuffed together to pull me closer and went on.

“You talked about the dress, the rings, the plans. I get that. I get why. So no dress. No flowers. No big thing. We get hitched. We live our lives. I get you’d shy away from the big thing. I’m a man. I’m all about not havin’ a big thing. What you gotta get is, no baby of mine made of love is comin’ into this world with her momma not wearin’ my rings and carrying my name. It’s just not gonna happen, Lanie. What’s gonna happen is, we’re goin’ to Vegas, we’re getting married, we’re comin’ home, and you’re moving in.”

He was insane.

“What about the kids?”

“They love you. They love me. You’re in my bed every night when they’re there. Doesn’t make a difference you have your clothes in my closet. Molly will be pissed she didn’t get a dress but she’ll get over it. Cody will be relieved he doesn’t have to wear some monkey suit.”

This was true. Molly and Cody had totally accepted the easing Lanie into their lives gig and Cody would lose his little badass biker-in-the-making mind if he had to put on a suit.

“Hopper, I don’t—”

“Don’t care what you don’t,” he cut me off to say. “Got donuts in the backseat. Snacks. Packed you a bag. Got a full tank of gas. And you got a lot of time to come to terms you’re takin’ my name. You don’t, I’m haulin’ your ass out connected to me to pump gas and you gotta use the men’s restroom ’cause I sure as fuck am not walkin’ into the ladies’.”

My eyes got wide. “You packed me a bag?”

He smiled. “Sure I missed something, seein’ as the bag I packed for you doesn’t weigh as much as normal. But if I did, we can pick it up in Vegas.”

I hated it when he was amusing when I was ticked off.

“I’m moving in and we’re living happily ever after, Hop. I’m also keeping the ring because it’s gorgeous. But we are not getting married.”

“Yeah we are.”

“No we aren’t.”

He turned back to the wheel, put the truck in drive and moved back onto the road muttering, “We’ll see.”

“We’re not!” I shouted, yanking on my wrist cuffed to his.

He caught my hand and pressed it to his thigh. “Don’t want my bride on her wedding day havin’ bruises on her wrist.”

Argh!

I went silent.

Hop drove.

I stewed.

We were heading into the mountains when I stated, “This isn’t going to work if both of us pull dramas, Hopper Kincaid. You’re supposed to be the mellow one.”

“Rethinkin’ that ’cause this is fun,” he replied. “Now, get me a donut, babe.”

I growled and noticed Hopper grinned.

But I was hungry and, if I had the donuts, I could throw one at him.

With difficulty, since my wrist was cuffed to Hop’s, I twisted to the backseat and got the donuts. I also didn’t throw one at him because the minute I opened them, their sugary, doughy goodness wafted out and it would be a crime to waste even one.

I handed Hop his and started snarfing mine.

“Babe?” Hop called.

“As of now, I’m not talking to you,” I announced with a mouth full of donut.

“Love you more than life.”

God.

He just kept killing me.

I went back to silently stewing.

But after what he said, my heart wasn’t in it.

That night, the Flamingo Hotel, Vegas…

“Oh my God,” I breathed, digging my heels into Hop’s back. My wrists, cuffed to the bed, jerked and suddenly Hop’s mouth wasn’t between my legs.

He’d shifted and I felt him kiss the sensitive skin where my leg met my pelvis and my head shot up to look down at him.

He’d lifted up on his forearms, my legs still over his shoulders, and I got a good look at the new tattoo that was inked in his skin over his heart. Something he caome home with as a surprise a couple of months ago.

It was a shield, its outline made of a kickass length of chain, its inside in beautiful script that said For my Lanie.

I loved that tattoo almost as much as I loved my shield.

But right then, I couldn’t think about how much I loved his tattoo.

“Don’t stop,” I begged.

“You gonna marry me?” he asked.

Totally killing me.

“Yes,” I stated instantly, and he smiled a sexy smile.

“You sayin’ that ’cause you wanna come or are you gonna marry me ’cause you want my name?”

“Both.”

“Promise that, Lanie.”

I held his eyes even as I squirmed. “Promise, Hop.”

“You love me?”

“Until I die.”

His face got soft but his lips ordered, “Say it.”

Again. Killing me.

“Hop, please—”

“Say it, baby.”

“Say what?”

“You want my name.”

“Uncuff me.”

“No. Say it.”

“I want to touch you,” I told him quietly and I did. I definitely wanted to touch him when I told him I wanted his name.

“Burying my face back in that pussy then fuckin’ it, all with you at my mercy, babe. You can touch me later. Say what I want to hear now.”

I dropped my head back to the bed and looked at the ceiling as I let the heat his words caused flash through my body. At the same time, I quickly sorted through my thoughts.

He was mine, I was his, he wanted this.

And I wanted him to have everything he wanted.

So I could let go of this one last thing and give it to him.

At the same time, having it myself.

When I had it together, I lifted up again and locked eyes with my man.

“I want to be your wife. I want your name. I want the name our son is going to have. I want to get married.”

His face got dark, his eyes hot, but his lips curved before he corrected, “Daughter.”

“Son.”

He shook his head then I watched him dip his face between my legs.

Yes.

My heels dug into his back.

Hop slid his hands under my behind and he pulled me deeper into his mouth.

Keep hold of happy.

I was.

Every second.

Even if I had to do it with just my legs.

The next night…

“We need to have dinner as soon as possible,” I told Tyra, my phone to my ear, my cheek to Hop’s chest, my naked body entwined with his in our bed at the Flamingo in Vegas.

We’d been married by a fake Liberace.

We both wore jeans.

We found Hop’s wedding band in an outpost on the way (though we did this shopping while I was under fake duress). It was wide, silver, with a thick ebony band in the middle. It didn’t look like a traditional wedding ring but it did look like a biker one.

Perfect for Hop.

He bought me a bouquet of red roses at fake Liberace’s wedding chapel.

And when Liberace told Hop he could kiss the bride, Hop dipped me in an arched-back make-out session to end all make-out sessions. When he was done, he pulled me straight, crouched in front of me, wrapped his arms around my thighs, lifted me up and roared, “This is my woman!”

I burst out laughing at the same time I burst into tears. It was the happiest moment of my life.

Bar none.

I’d done the right thing, marrying Hop.

And evidence was suggesting it was the same for my man.

Liberace told us no one had ever shouted like that after a ceremony. He did this making it clear he wished everyone did.

Liberace with his purple pompadour was also in some of our wedding photos. He was grinning like a lunatic. It was hilarious. But there was no doubt he genuinely loved his job.

Hop was right.

The dress, ring, flowers, all of it terrified me because that was what had led me and Elliott to Kansas City.

But jeans, roses, and Liberace were perfect.

“Is everything okay?” Tyra asked.

“Yes,” I answered in a massive understatement. “Just, can you call Tabby and Shy and ask them to watch the boys so you and Tack can go out to dinner with us?”

“Sure, honey.”

“I gotta go,” I told her and I did. I had to call my assistant at home on a Sunday and tell her I wouldn’t be back in the office until Tuesday.

But first, I had to cuddle a little bit more with my husband.

“Okay. See you soon.”

“Right. ’Bye, sweetie.”

“ ’Bye, Lanie.”

I tossed my phone on the bed then moved my fingers to Hop’s forearm and traced the pattern of fire. After I did that a while, I moved my finger to trace my shield.

“My name is Lanie Kincaid,” I told his chest.

“Sure the fuck is,” Hop replied on a growl and I lifted my head to look at him.

His handsome face was set hard, determined much like he looked when he talked about what he did to get Chaos out of the bad place they were in to a good place of family.

Family.

“Are you genuinely happy, Hopper Kincaid?” I asked softly.

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, Lanie Kincaid,” he stated firmly.

Wow.

That sounded beautiful.

I lifted a hand to his face and traced the side of his mustache with my thumb, watching it go before I lifted my eyes to him.

“For the first time since I was eleven and for the first time in my whole life, it being totally honest and completely real, I am too.”

He knifed up, his arms going around me, and he rolled us so he was on top then he kissed me.

“I think I have a clue how much you love me now, Hop,” I told him when he broke the kiss.

“Good to know, baby,” he said through a grin.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“So far from a hardship, it isn’t funny, lady, but you’re welcome.”

I lifted my head, sifting my fingers in his overlong hair, smelling his spicy scent, feeling his ’tache tickle my skin and I kissed my husband.

It was the best kiss of my life.

Up until then.

I would find that Hop, as ever, would keep making them better.