Titch: Untamed Sons MC, #5

By Jessica Ames

Enjoy this dark motorcycle club romance from USA Today Bestselling MC romance author Jessica Ames...

 

Titch

 

As Road Captain of the Untamed Sons MC, I've had my share of pain, but nothing could prepare me for seeing my ex-wife move on with another man. It makes my demons want to come out to play, makes me want to destroy everything in my path. I love Rachel. I'll always love her, but she's no longer mine. Getting her back is my only focus and to do that, I'm willing to cross lines I shouldn't.

 

Rachel

 

I never expected my feelings for Titch to remain as strong as they were when I first married him. Getting a divorce was my first mistake. My second was trusting my new husband. He has secrets that put me and my sons in danger. I shouldn't be thinking about my ex, not now that I have a new man on the scene, but every thought I have is about Titch. He's the light in the darkness and he makes my heart beat faster than it has in years. When I discover my husband has been hurting my child, I fall into the arms of the only man who can save us all. Titch.

 

All books in the Untamed Sons universe can be read as standalones, but are better enjoyed read in order. This is a dark romantic story with a guaranteed happily ever after. It does have some strong language, graphic violence and content that might be triggering.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessica Ames
• Release date: Nov 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223528425

Book preview

1

TITCH

The clubhouse is busy, considering it’s the middle of the week. Usually, we don’t get this much traffic until the weekend, when the party really gets started, but there’s a weird atmosphere tonight. It’s like the air crackles with electricity, a hive of motion and energy I’ve not seen in a while.

I glance around the room, taking in the bunnies fucking and sucking their way through my brothers before I bring my attention back to the bitch on her knees in front of me. I watch my dick slide between Jewel’s ruby-red lips, surprised I stay hard. Even drunk, the mixture of whiskey and a club whore on her knees doesn’t stop the pain that grips my chest. It doesn’t help me to forget everything I lost, everything that was taken away from me by some suit-wearing prick named Gregory. Fuck, I hate that cunt. Even his name pisses me off.

Gregory.

Arse.

The thought of him tucked up at home with my fucking wife and my fucking sons makes red film my vision for a moment. I want to tear his fucking head off, but Rachel’s not mine anymore. She hasn’t been for a long time and the title of wife is one she gave to another man.

Heaviness weighs on my shoulders. It gnaws at my bones, leaving me feeling hollow, empty, a shell of the man I once was. I don’t let that show in my eyes, don’t let the pain I feel take over, though it wants to. I miss my old life. Over the past few years, I’ve seen my brothers start to settle down and while I’m happy as fuck for them, it reminds me of all the things I let slip through my fingers, like the sand in an hourglass. Just like everything else, I fucked up the one good thing I had and Rachel will never be mine again.

My balls tighten suddenly breaking through my thoughts, and my hips twitch as I spill my load into Jewel’s waiting mouth. Like a good bunny, she swallows down my spunk before running a finger over her bottom lip, looking at me like a seductress under lashes as fake as her tits.

She stands and reaches for my belt, her eyes locked on my face as she licks her lips. I should lose myself in her snatch for a while, let it erase Rachel from my mind, but I can’t. It doesn’t feel right to take Jewel, to have my cock inside her warm, willing pussy.

I clamp a hand around her wrist, stopping her movements. Enough.

I know I’m being a prick, but I don’t care. These bitches are like blood sucking leeches. Let them latch on for too long and they think they own you. No one can ever own me again. No one has ever owned me but Rachel. Fuck, I miss my wife.

Ex-wife.

I never wanted the divorce, but I didn’t fight hard enough either. Pride stopped me at the time. Now, I wish I’d begged for her on my fucking knees.

I wanna fuck, Titch.

I ignore Jewel’s whiny voice as I tuck myself back into my jeans. I feel like I’m crawling in dirt for having her mouth around me. Fuck knows how bad I would feel sinking into her pussy.

Find another dick to take, I growl at her and she walks off, sulking as she goes.

Fucking bunnies.

What’s up with your ugly fucking mug? Levi demands as he sidles up to me at the bar.

He won’t stick around much longer tonight, not when he has Elle at home waiting on him, pregnant. I miss my best friend, but he’s spending less and less time at the clubhouse now that he has a kid and one on the way. I don’t blame him. If I had that good shit at home, I wouldn’t be here either. I wasn’t always Elle’s biggest fan, but she’s more than proven she’s a good woman and she’s a good match for Levi.

Rach is a good woman too, one I pushed to the limit. I made her doubt my fidelity, made her doubt a lot of shit with all the secrets I kept. I know she thought I was off screwing any cunt I could but that wasn’t the truth. I wasn’t always a good man, but I was a faithful one. I should have told her every fucking day what she meant to me. Instead, I was living it up with the guys. I was young and dumb.

Fucking fed up of the same bitches, I mutter, signalling for Tommy, one of the prospects who’s standing behind the bar. He heads off without a word to get me a drink. I like the kid. He’s smart, a quick learner, but he doesn’t have the same smarts as Kyle, or Cage as he’s now known.

Maybe the problem is you keep sticking your dick in the same bitches.

I do, but I don’t appreciate the reminder. This shit’s getting old. I’m thirty-two and I’m tired of my life.

Tommy brings my drink over, sliding it onto the top of the bar. I take a long sip of the cold liquid, letting the malty taste coat my throat. One pint and I’m heading to bed. I can’t keep doing this shit to myself. I feel scraped thin, spent.

How’s Elle? I ask, trying to take the heat off me. Last thing I need is a heart-to-fucking-heart with Levi about my shitty relationships.

Still puking her guts up, but the doc ain’t worried, so I’m trying to keep my fucking head. Hate seeing her like that.

I think back to when Rach was pregnant. It seems like another lifetime ago. We’d barely made eighteen when we found out she was expecting Aiden, my eldest boy. Will followed a few years later. I don’t remember her being sick like Elle, though.

Grateful as fuck I don’t have a snatch.

He snorts as he drains the last of his drink. Me too, brother. You sure you’re okay?

I nod. Fucking perfect.

Placing the glass back on the top of the bar, he pushes to his feet. I’ll see you tomorrow.

He clasps my shoulder before he heads for the exit, leaving me sitting alone. How did this shit become my life? How the fuck is my ex-wife at home with another man while I’m sitting here with some snatch’s lipstick around my cock?

The irritation flaring through me scatters as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I tug it out and Rachel’s number flashes on my screen. Instantly, all my senses go on fucking alert. She never calls me in the week, unless she’s having childcare issues. She definitely doesn’t contact me this late in the evening.

Gregory won’t take care of the boys, even though he signed up for this shit when he took on a woman with kids. He treats my boys like they’re nothing to him and that pisses me off. I don’t want him to be ‘dad’ with them, but his disregard fucking grates. Why the fuck Rachel married this cock head I’ll never know.

I quickly slide my finger over the screen and accept the call.

Rach? I speak her name before she can say anything, fear clutching my heart.

Hey, Ashton.

Hearing my real name on her lips does funny fucking things to my stomach. It always did. She’s the only person who doesn’t call me Titch. Never did. She never really bought into the whole club thing. In fact, she fucking hated it when I patched in. It caused a hurricane-level argument, one that had lasted for weeks. I was fucking thrilled to be part of the Sons. Never thought for a second she wouldn’t want it too, but back then all I’d cared about was providing for my family. I was nineteen, a father with no family to help out. Rach was pregnant again and I was panicking about keeping the lights on at home. The club gave me, a kid who left school at sixteen, a real chance of making money.

But Rachel fucking hated the club. Hated that it took me away from her, that it came between us more than it should have. Hated that I was always risking my arse doing dangerous or criminal shit. I didn’t realise she’d thrown the gauntlet down and asked me to choose between my family and my club, until she handed me divorce papers five years after Will came along. Fuck, that day was hard to stomach, even now.

What’s wrong? I demand, slipping off the stool and heading for the common room doors. As I step into the quieter corridor, she lets out a breath down the line and I feel my gut swirl.

I need you to come to the house tomorrow. As always, her voice washes over me like black fucking silk over granite. Fuck, I’ve missed her. It’s so hard having her in my life and not being able to touch her, claim her mouth, fuck her sweet pussy.

Why? What’s going on? I know she wouldn’t call unless it was important. I’m not my ex-wife’s favourite person.

Aiden got suspended from school for fighting.

This fucking floors me. That kid doesn’t have an aggressive bone in his body. The fuck are you talking about? Aiden ain’t a fighter.

Well, today your son was. He got into it with another kid. The head teacher gave him three days suspension.

I scrub a hand over my face as I try to take that in. If she’d said Will, I would have believed her. My youngest is a scrappy little shit and he’s got a temper, but Aiden isn’t like that.

I scrub a hand over my eyes, a headache starting to build behind them. He say why he did it?

He’s refusing to talk about it. I don’t know what’s got into him. I had to leave work early to get him and he’s done nothing but give me attitude since he got home.

The one thing Rach and I never failed on is being there for our boys and Aiden knows I’d never allow him to speak to his mother like shit. I don’t know what’s going on with that kid. He’s spiralling. At first, he was just moody, argumentative. Figured it was fucking hormones or some shit, but the fighting is new.

I let out a breath. What time do you need me there?

I have to work at twelve.

I’ll be there before then.

Any chance you can take him for the day, too? Greg won’t be here and I have to work. My lip curls at the mention of that fucker’s name. God, I hate that cunt. Aiden could probably stay home alone if you can’t.

He’s fourteen. He could, but I know Rach worries about leaving him.

I’ll take him. You know I will.

Rachel sounds relieved. I’m sorry for calling you like this.

Don’t ever be. He’s my kid too. I want to know this shit.

I’ll uh… I’ll see you tomorrow.

Yeah.

There’s a pause before she murmurs bye and another before she hangs up, as if she doesn’t want to end the call. Fuck, if that doesn’t play with my head.

2

RACHEL

As soon as Aiden steps into the kitchen the morning after the fight, I see the bruise on his cheek. I grit my teeth. Even as angry as I am at him for fighting, I’m pissed off the other kid clearly got a hit in and didn’t get suspended too.

My son ducks his head, his dark hair curtaining his face as if he can’t bring himself to look at me. Shame and humiliation wash through him and I hate it. I’ve always been close to Aiden. He’s my first born, and he—and Will—got me through some pretty dark patches with Ashton.

And those patches had been really dark.

I love Ash, will probably always love him, but together we were like a hurricane meeting a volcano. At first, that was exciting. I thrived on the adventure, but after Will was born, I wanted Ash to be someone he couldn’t be. I wanted him to be home more. I didn’t want the lies between us, the half-truths. I didn’t want the club either, but that came shackled to his ankles. I never thought I would be thirty-two and divorced. I never thought I’d be on my second husband either. This wasn’t my life plan. I was supposed to marry Ash and live happily ever after, but things had gone to shit pretty quickly. I managed to keep my family together for five more years before I couldn’t cope any longer. I still remember the look on Ash’s face when I told him I wanted a divorce. Hurting him didn’t feel good, but I’d had to do it for my own sanity.

I watch Aiden, feeling useless as he moves towards the breakfast table and takes a seat, his face glum as he does. I hate seeing my boys hurting. I don’t excuse his behaviour, but I want desperately to believe there was a reason for it. I don’t want to consider my son might be a bully. Aiden doesn’t have that in him. He’s so different from his father, different from me too. I don’t know where he gets that quiet introspectiveness from, but he’s always been that way.

Will, my youngest, splits his gaze between us, as the air grows heavier with tension. He’s worried about his brother too.

Last night, I tried to get Aiden to open up about what happened, but he wouldn’t talk. In the end, I sent him to bed, hoping his father can drag it out of him this morning. I tried to discuss it with Gregory in bed that evening, but he was pragmatic, citing ‘boys will be boys’. I don’t buy it. I know Aiden better than he knows himself, and I know this behaviour is out of place for my son. Something is wrong.

Greg takes his own chair. As always, his hair is perfectly styled and his suit is expensive. He’s not yet wearing his jacket, just a crisp white shirt and tie. He looks amazing, so put together, the ideal family man. It’s what attracted me to him in the first place. He and Ash are chalk and cheese.

I move into the kitchen to serve up breakfast. It’s the one rule I have in my house. We sit down for a family breakfast, no matter what. Sometimes that’s hard because I work long hours as a veterinary nurse and Greg is always so busy with work, but I do my best to have this time. Soon, my boys will be grown up and living their own lives. Family breakfasts will be a distant memory.

It was the one rule I had when I was married to Ashton too, but he would often miss it because of club business. That used to make me want to kill him.

Your face looks gnarly, Will says to his brother.

Yours is going to look worse if you don’t shut your mouth.

Aiden! His name snaps out of my mouth as I twist from the stove. What is with this kid? What happened to my sweet boy? Apologise to your brother.

He mutters something I can’t hear under his breath, but doesn’t say sorry, as I ask.

Your mother said apologise, Greg says.

His voice is calm. He never loses his cool about anything. He’s so different from Ash who was chaos from the moment I met him, though I do sometimes miss the spontaneity of getting caught up in his whirlwind.

At his words, Aiden seems to sink back into his seat. Sorry. He mumbles out the word and I wonder how the hell Greg manages to tame my kid with just a few words. I wish I had that power.

Exhaustion washes through me and lean against the counter. I just don’t know how to deal with a kid in the throes of teendom. I thought the moodiness, the acting out was something that happened to other kids. My sweet Aiden would never be like that. Man, was I wrong. This past year it’s like he’s had a personality transplant. With Will creeping up to thirteen next year, I’m going to have my work cut out for me.

I snag the last two rounds of toast out of the toaster and quickly butter them before tossing it onto the stack I’ve already made. Grabbing the plate, I move to the table and slide it into the middle.