Page 64 of Devil to Pay: Cutter

The atmosphere is somber around the clubhouse for the next couple of days. The Lords returned to Thornbriar the next day. Bobby took off back home after he dropped us at the compound rather than accept my invitation, but Waite and Damien stay on. They jump right in, helping in any way we need to utilize them.

Vlad doesn’t make it back to the clubhouse until this morning. After spending time dealing with the losses of our brothers, contacting their families and whatnot, he went home to be with his wife and kid. Family time. I understand that. We got lucky, no doubt about it. But we still lost big and a man’s family is the best remedy to help counteract the anger and sadness of those losses.

Sarge and Vlad storm in. “Cutter. War room,” he says when he sees me. I kiss Aja and follow. The front door opens to Dark walking in the clubhouse, too. Reaper walks into the common from the hallway. “Reap. War room.”

We follow our president behind the bar to where the war room is located. Vlad takes his seat then looks to me. “Heard there are two men still at my club.”

“Yeah,” I say. “They helped me out big time. I literally owe them my life. The escorted us home and then jumped in to help once we got here.”

“They want to prospect?”

“Neither has said yet, but if they haven’t, I thinkweshouldaskthem.”

“Right. Then I need to meet them.” Vlad stands from his seat and with Sarge at his side, he walks out of the war room. I scurry out to make the introductions.

“Waite,” I call over to the kid, who’s in a conversation with Damien.

When he looks up, I wave him over. Both men walk up to where I’m standing and before I have the chance to introduce more than Waite, Vlad says, “What the fuck?”

Waite jerks his head back. “There a problem?”

“This is our president, Vlad,” I say.

Vlad narrows his eyes on Waite specifically. “Waite?” he asks, though it’s not really a question. He turns his whole body looking for someone. “Where’s Gia?”

“How do you know my mom?”

“You’re the spitting image of her,” Vlad answers. “Is she here?”

“No. She lives in Florida. Again, I got to ask, how do you know my mom?”

Vlad’s face falls into this weird mix of hardness around his mouth and jaw, but his eyes go soft. I’ve only seen it happen when he’s talking to Nic or holding Tripp. “I’m Daniel,” he says. “She’s my sister.”

DanielfuckingWaite. I didn’t put it together, but in my defense, who could blame me? It’s the name he signs for official dealings, like when the club bought the working garage, but as many years as I’ve known him, not one man calls him anything but Vlad.

The kid’s mouth drops open. To be honest, all our mouths drop open. What are the fucking chances?

21

AJA

Eleven months later…

“Cutter,” I yell while he pounds into me from behind. “Oh, my god!” My inner walls mold around his shaft to keep him there. It’s hard and rough and out of control, our love making. I close my eyes wanting to remember this moment, the feel of him so thick and long, and so, so hard inside me. My body shudders from the intensity.

“Shh…” He laughs through it. “You’re gonna wake Freya, baby.”

This is our first time together since Dusty gave us the okay. It also happens to be our wedding night. We planned it for today when my six weeks post-delivery are up and Green got sprung from the joint. He got off so lucky that the guy he hit recovered. We all got off lucky with that one. He’s not allowed to drive for a while, which has him fuming. I get it. It’s hard to be a biker without a bike. But he did this to himself.

Both Nic and Dusty offered to take Freya for us, but I’m breast-feeding for the time being and Cutter doesn’t want to be away from her. Not even for a night.

I love fucking Cut. Wild and crazy or slow and gentle. I love when he gets creative. I love that it never gets old or repetitive.

My head starts to spin with my coming orgasm. It’s hard to catch my breath. When my whole body tenses up, I throw my head back and cry his name.

He empties himself into the condom and slumps forward, forcing me down onto the bed. “Damn, woman,” he says against my skin. “I fucking love you.”

Yeah, my sentiments exactly.

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