Chapter Three
Olivia
I down the third cocktail and wince at the burning aftertaste. I look around the table at my closest friends and smile. I’m lucky. All it took was a text message to have them all come together for a night out. A night where any mention of Bully or his stupid club is banned.
Bria leans closer. “Did I just see a smile?”
I laugh. “I was just thinking how lucky I am.”
“That’s the spirit. You’re loved, Livvy, you don’t need—”
“Don’t say it,” I cry, and she giggles, slapping her hand over her mouth. Everyone who’s said it so far has had to down a shot of sours, and Bria is on her fifth.
Stacy grabs the bottle of sours and tops a shot glass anyway, ignoring Bria’s protests. “You thought it, so it counts,” she says, laughing. “Now, drink the damn shot.”
I watch in amusement. “Thanks, ladies. I don’t know what I’d do without you all,” I say.
Laura grabs my hand and gives it a quick squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, Livvy.”
I nod. “I can’t believe I wasted five years of my life on him.”
“Eight, if you count the three before he went inside,” Bria says while Stacy tops up two shot glasses. I take mine and drink it, holding it out for a second refill because I’m about to break the rule again.
“I knew he wouldn’t walk away completely,” I explain, “but I thought he’d at least consider me in his plans. I waited all day to see him. I even booked us a—”
“Night at the Marriott,” the girls sing-song, and I laugh.
“Sorry, I’m just so pissed about the entire thing. I thought we were gonna have a great night planning our future.”
“You should shag someone else,” Bria announces, looking around the bar.
I screw my nose up. “It’s not even been a few hours.”
“She’s right, Bria,” Lisa cuts in. “Tonight is about forgetting men.”
“We’re single, we should have some fun,” Bria argues as she slides from the booth. “I’m going to check out the talent in this place.”
“Don’t come back until you find us a wealthy group of hot men,” Claudia shouts after her.
I roll my eyes, shaking my head as I push to stand. “I’m going to find a bathroom. Please don’t let my sister embarrass herself.”
As I’m waiting in line, my handbag vibrates, and I reach in for my mobile. The number is unknown, so I cancel it. Seconds later, a text message comes through, and I groan.
Unknown: Save my new number. Where are you?
I save it. Of course, I do.
Me: I’m not telling you and I don’t need your number.
Bully: I’m coming to find you. I need to see you.
Me: We’re over. Leave me the fuck alone.
I stuff my phone away, anger coursing through me that he’d think it was that simple to sort our shit out. He’s proved he can’t change. The only thing I’m surprised about is that he’s not holed up in his room with a club whore.
When I get back to the table, Bria is back with a group of men, and I groan dramatically. “Here she is,” cries Bria, smiling wide as she waves her hand in my direction. The men make a clearing, and I take my seat at the table, avoiding eye contact. “This is my younger sister, Livvy.”
“Olivia,” I correct, risking a glance up. They’re not the usual type of men you find on a night out in Nottingham. Especially in a dive bar like Tudor’s.
The one nearest to me holds out his hand, and I take it without question. A smile pulls at his lips. “Darren,” he greets. “Your sister said you need cheering up.”
I shake my head, feeling my cheeks redden slightly. “She’s drunk. Ignore her.”
He slides in beside me, forcing me to move along the booth. “She was pretty insistent.”
I watch as Bria chats with one of his friends. He’s definitely her type, with tattoos, piercing green eyes, and broad shoulders, but looking at the group, they’re all similar in description. “Are you brothers?” I ask, and he smirks.
“Of sorts.”
Dread fills me. “Bikers,” I confirm, my heart rate picking up.
“And what do you know about bikers?” he asks, a smile still playing on his lips.
“Way more than I want to,” I say firmly.
“Bria,” she looks over, “we need to go.” The rest of the women are also chatting with the men, and I sigh in frustration.
I’m nothing to do with the Royal Bastards anymore, but it’s ingrained in me that I shouldn’t be talking to another club unless they’ve been checked out and approved.
“I need to get out,” I add, waiting for Darren to move, but in true cocky biker style, he just leans back so I have to climb over him to get out.
I grab Bria and drag her a few steps away. She glares at me with irritation. “What’s wrong with you?” she snaps.
“I’m not comfortable talking to—”
“Live a little,” she cuts in. “Face it, Bully chose the club over you, Livvy. You wasted five years over that arse, so kick back and relax. Enjoy a night with your friends. I’m not saying marry this guy, but at least chat and remember what it was like before Bully came along and stole my sister.
” Her words make my heart ache, and I give a slight nod.
Bria brushes my hair from my face and smiles. “Besides, they’re fit.”
I sit opposite Darren, and he gives me another award-winning smile. “You had a bad experience?” he asks. “With bikers,” he adds to clarify.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I mutter, grabbing the sours and topping my glass.
“Suits me,” he replies, grabbing a second glass and holding it up for a top-up. My phone buzzes again, and I snatch it from my bag, opening the text message.
Bully: Found you.
I frown, staring at the words before looking around frantically. If he sees me talking to another guy, let alone a biker, he’ll end up right back in prison. I stand abruptly. “I have to go.”
“But we’ve barely spoken,” Darren says, his tone teasing.
Bria is nowhere to be seen, and I groan, typing out a text to tell her I left and to call me when she gets home. Lisa glances my way, and I reiterate the message to her. “Are you okay?” she asks with concern.
I nod. “Just tired,” I lie. I don’t want to drag them all away from their night out because of Bully.
I’m almost at the exit when a large hand slips around my wrist and tugs me to turn. Bully smirks, stepping so close, I have to tip my head back to look at him. His hand automatically slides around my throat in a loose hold, and I get that nervous, excited feeling in the pit of my stomach.
As if he senses it, he grips a little tighter and slowly drags his lips past my cheek and to my ear. “Told you I was coming.” My heart slams hard, and my breaths quicken. Heat pools between my legs. “Your place or mine?” he asks.
“It’s not a good—” Idea dies on my lips as he cups my cheek with his spare hand and kisses me until I’m breathless.
“Yeah, I heard all that before. But I ain’t asking twice, Liv.”
“The Marriott,” I murmur, regretting it instantly. When Bria finds out about this, she’s gonna gut me like a fish, but I don’t stop myself from following him from the bar and out into the street.
I stare at our joined hands as he leads me through the crowds of party animals and towards the hotel I’d carefully picked over three months ago. When I could see an end in sight to his sentence. Everything seemed much less complicated back then.
His tattoos cover his hands and crawl up his arms, spanning across his back and chest. I’ve forgotten exactly how many he’s got, but he added to them in prison.
His tattoos were the first thing I’d noticed when we met in a bar all those years ago. I’d found him outside after a fight, waiting for his brothers to come pick him up. I insisted on going to the hospital with him, and we were pretty inseparable after that . . . until he went inside.
The hotel is a few streets away, and as he leads me inside, the bright lights and twinkling chandeliers startle me into panic mode, and as if he senses it, he turns on me and presses me against a pillar by the reception desk.
“Don’t overthink it,” he warns, his eyes burning into mine.
“Forget all the shit. It’s just me and you, here, alone. Me and you, darlin’.”
I give a slight nod, and he relaxes, stepping back so I can approach the reception desk. “I have a room booked in the name of Bull.”
The receptionist taps away on her computer before smiling and sliding a key card across to me. “Room three hundred and one, on the third floor.”
I take the card and head for the lift with Bully right behind me.
My mind races as we step inside and I press for the third floor.
“You’re doing it again,” he says, slipping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head.
I open my mouth to speak, but he places a hand over it and nuzzles against my neck.
I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his bristles against my skin.
“I don’t wanna talk,” he tells me. “I haven’t been in a room alone with you for five years, darlin’.
The last thing I wanna do is talk.” He takes his attention back to nipping my neck, and as we step from the lift, he keeps hold of me.
I press the card against the door and it opens.
Bully doesn’t give me a chance to look around as he kicks the door closed and pushes me against it, kissing me hard.
Bully
Feeling her body pressed against mine compares to nothing else.
It just feels right. My hands travel up her thighs and under her skirt, where I hook my thumbs into her knickers and drag them down her legs, kneeling before her while she steps from them.
I stuff them in my pocket and smile up at her.
She watches cautiously as I push her skirt to her waist and press my nose between her legs.
I’ve spent years trying to remember this exact scent. Her scent.
My hands cup her peachy backside. It’s fuller than I remember, sexier.
Her legs part as I move closer, dragging my tongue through her folds and tasting her.
I close my eyes, savouring her taste before pressing my mouth back there and licking her.
She shudders, the sounds of her breathy moans spurring me on.
Liv’s fingers run through my hair, gripping it at the roots and pulling my mouth closer as she lifts one leg and hangs it over my shoulder. She grinds her pussy against my face, and I lap her juices faster as she shivers through an orgasm.
Her breathless pants fill the silence as I rise to my feet and unbuckle my jeans.
She eyes me warily, and I can see doubt creeping in.
I shake my head cos there’s no fucking way we’re going over that break-up bullshit she spouted earlier.
I kiss her, groaning at the thought of her tasting herself on my tongue.
“We waited far too long,” I murmur against her lips as I grip her legs and lift her against the door.
My cock presses at her entrance, and she grips my shoulders as I ease into her.
“Fuck,” I pant, squeezing my eyes closed as she tightens around me.
“You feel too good.” There’s no way I can control this as my body begins to move of its own accord, slamming into her at a punishing pace.
She clings on for dear life, crying out with each thrust.
I turn us, moving away from the door and carrying her over to the bed, where I lay her down and continue the onslaught.
“We’re not over,” I grit out, fisting her hair and pulling her mouth up to meet mine.
“You’re my old lady,” I add. She remains quiet, her eyes avoiding mine as I take what I need.
“Say it,” I hiss, nipping the delicate skin of her neck.
“Bully,” she whispers reluctantly.
“Say it,” I demand, my tone more forceful.
The rush of warmth fills me from head to toe, and I still, straining against her as I push in as deep as I can and release on a feral roar that rips my throat apart.
“Holy shit,” I pant, glancing down between us as I slowly withdraw.
Her glistening juices mixed with mine keep me semi-hard as I slide back in, taking my time to come down from the high and dragging every ounce of pleasure from my orgasm.
I eventually pull from her and crawl down her body, kissing across her stomach as I settle between her legs and press my thumb to her opening, gathering our wetness and rubbing it over her swollen clit. She shudders, her body jerking.
“Bully, please,” she whispers. I drag the wetness over her backside, my thumb gently teasing her puckered hole.
She fidgets away, but I clamp a hand over her leg to hold her still.
“We need to talk,” she continues. I press my mouth to her clit, flicking it with my tongue while continuing to push my thumb to her forbidden hole.
She groans as I manage to break through the resistance barrier, inserting the digit while sucking her clit.
Her back arches off the bed as I stretch the hole.
“You’re not listening,” she snaps as I crawl back up her body, curling her legs to her stomach and rolling her onto her side.
I lie behind her, my cock straining to feel her tight arse take me in.
“I’m listening,” I tell her, holding the head of my cock to the tight hole. “You’re not.”
“You haven’t said anything,” she says, stiffening as the head disappears inside. I gasp, trying to slow it down, needing to savour every second of this.
“See, you’re not listening,” I repeat. “I said we aren’t splitting up. That you’re my old lady.” I lunge forward, and she cries out, grabbing a handful of the sheets as I force her to take my length.
I tug her skirt up and over her head, throwing it to the floor.
Then, I unclip her bra and add it to the pile.
Her arse grips me, squeezing me as I fuck her, this time taking my time.
I run my hand over her stomach and cup her breast, teasing her nipple.
“I can’t compete with the club,” she argues, and I laugh.
“I haven’t asked you to.”
“But it’s expected,” she snaps, turning her head into the mattress and groaning.
I guide her onto her stomach and lie over her, my legs either side of hers as I move faster, fucking her into silence.
I slip my hand under her stomach and slide it between her legs, using the wetness there to tease her clit.
She shudders, her backside tightening as she comes apart.
I follow seconds later, spilling into her.
I roll from her, our bodies slick with sweat, and I stare up at the ceiling, trying to regain control of my breathing. She sits, taking the sheet from beneath her and wrapping it around her body. “It’s me or the club, Bully,” she mutters, sliding from the bed and heading for the en-suite.