Chapter One #3
“Kodiak is always down to fuck,” Bullet said and glanced at the open oak doors.
Kodiak and Steele were standing around the oil drum with Murph, Sully, and a couple of others.
“But Steele’s got Lili and a soon-to-be ex-wife riding his ass about the club.
He doesn’t need anything more to deal with.
And Vega’s out. Something about waiting to be the big, bad wolf. ”
“Time to end this conversation before it gets me in trouble with Jazzy.” Rogue’s chair scraped the floor as he pushed away from the table. He grabbed Bullet’s whiskey glass and went behind the bar.
“I got a couple of guys from Eminence University working for me. They’re making enough to pay their tuition.
I’ll throw leather vests on them, and they can pretend to be bikers for a day.
” Bullet stood and stretched. “Do me a favor,” he said to me and Blue.
“If you know someone, send him my way. It’ll be good money. ”
Blue laughed. “You know everyone I know.”
“I might be interested,” I said before Bullet could walk away.
He slid his tatted hands into his pockets and narrowed his gaze. “How is your old lady going to feel about you getting your dick wet in one of my kittens?”
“I’ll work it out.” I’d get a pass. A one-off. I’d fucked around, but it wasn’t cheating. I didn’t do relationships. I didn’t hide what I did from McKelle. We fought about it, but we fought about everything.
I hadn’t hooked up with anyone else in months. McKelle agreed not to label our relationship, and I agreed not to fuck anyone behind her back. I’d talk to her first, explain the situation, and let her know it was just business. Just a bit more sacrifice for the patch.
“Work it out, and I’ll let Jinx know she’s got one more of her seven bikers.”
Bullet followed Rogue out of the MC.
Blue’s jaw clenched as he grabbed my empty beer bottle on the table. “I’ll help you clean up.”
I followed him behind the bar. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could smell the stench of judgment coming off him. I once told Blue he didn’t want me as his conscience, and I sure as fuck didn’t need him being mine. “Prospects clean up. I got this.”
Blue leaned against the counter. “Best friends tell each other when they’re fucking up. You’re fucking up.”
I tossed the bar towel into the sink. “Nah. Fucking up would be hiding it from her. I’m not going to fuck around behind her back. I’m not comparing what I got with McKelle to what you have with Kiss. But McKelle isn’t hung up on being exclusive.”
Blue’s grumble didn’t conceal his opinion.
Leaving locking up the MC to Steele or Kodiak, we headed to the back of the clubhouse and turned down a long hall. At one end, a door exited the building. At the other was the business office of the club.
“I’m in the shop tomorrow,” Blue said. “Do you want to catch a late movie with the girls?” He paused before turning the handle to his room. “I mean, if you survive your conversation with McKelle.”
McKelle
Voices sounded from the hallway. Blue’s easy laugh, and Cruz’s muffled words. I couldn’t help the skip of my heart. When I’d told Cruz there was something wrong with me, I wasn’t lying.
When we were good, it was so good. But god, he could be such a dick. After two years, you’d think I’d get tired of the ride. But three things gave me a rush. Racing down the straights, kissing the track on the corners, and Cruz.
I needed him the same way I needed the high of adrenaline. I was fire, and he was kerosene. Maybe we were a bit toxic together, but it burned so hot.
My nipples ached, and the crotch of my panties was soaked. I was such a slut for him.
The door creaked open. Knowing Cruz was about to come to bed caused a riot of flutters in my belly, not because I was in his bed, in a darkened room of the MC, with the scent of his cologne surrounding me. Okay, those weren’t the only reasons for the butterflies.
Earlier, when Blade hadn’t called for the vote, I could feel the hurt coming off him.
He was good at pretending, but this was the stuff that messed with his head and made him stupid—when he didn’t feel good enough despite empirical evidence that he was an amazing human being, and these Harley riding assholes were lucky to know him.
Yet, somehow, he’d convinced himself he needed the patch to belong.
He couldn’t see the Hellers had already accepted him.
Not only did he ride with them, but I was in his bed, in a room he rented, in their clubhouse.
Not just a room, but he was earning money at their bar, and he had a key to the main doors.
The mattress dipped as he sat at the bottom of the bed, bent over, and tugged off his boots. His shirt and cut stretched taut against a muscular back built from hard work.
“Hi,” I whispered, breaking the silence.
He glanced over his shoulder, and a shiver skated along my spine.
“You should be sleeping.” His voice did wicked things to my body. Just deep enough to sound dirty. Tunnels furrowed his shoulder-length brown hair. He raked his fingers through it again.
“I can’t sleep.” Because I was imagining him between my legs, those hazel eyes staring at me, with a devilish grin on his lips.
“Are you still pissed at me for yesterday?”
“No.” A slow smile found my lips. “But I don’t need to be pissed to want you to fuck me.”
A dark hunger flared in his eyes. He stood, shrugged out of his cut, the one with no patch on the back, and tossed it onto the dresser. Reaching behind his head, he gripped the collar of his shirt and stripped out of it.
Cruz was built for speed with sleek lines and hard angles. Shoulders honed from working construction curved into a sun-bronzed chest carved from lean muscle. A thin treasure trail bisected his laddered eight pack abs. Tagged with ink and attitude and fuckboy vibes because he was one.
But he was more than his dick. Like oxygen, he breathed life into me. More than racing, more than adrenaline, or the fiery sex between us, he made me feel things, things I couldn’t explain. I craved the intense highs I only felt with him.
“Show me how much you want my dick.” With a flick of his wrist, he unsnapped his jeans and lowered the zipper. His cock stretched the front of his boxer briefs. He shoved them down muscular thighs then banded his fingers around his shaft. A few strokes had him thick, long, and hard.
I sat up, grabbed the condom I’d tucked under my pillow, and crawled down the bed toward him. His gaze shifted from my breasts to the slope of my back. “Please.” I was desperate for his hands on me. “Fuck me.”
“Such a good girl, begging to be my whore.”
I touched my tongue to my upper lip, rose onto my knees, and braced my hands on his hips. “I want your dick,” I whispered as I kissed along his jaw and gently bit.
“Get on your knees.”
I was soaked, edginess vibrating through me as if I was on the back of his bike. I slid off the bed and sat on my heels, with my thighs spread.
Looking down at me, he cocked his head to the side. There was that sinister smile and the slight dimples in his cheeks. He gathered my hair in his hand. “Take it, baby.”
I tugged his jeans to the floor. Then he stepped out of them and widened his stance.
I curled my fingers around the base of his cock and touched my tongue to the tip, opened wider, and circled the head with my lips. His grasp on my hair tightened, and muscles in his thighs tensed.
“Suck it.”
I smiled as I spit on the head then opened my mouth for him.
With gentle pressure, he pushed in, passed my teeth, slid along my tongue, grazing my piercing, and bumped against the back of my throat.
I sealed my lips around the shaft and swirled my tongue along the hard, yet velvety soft skin, and teased him with my tongue piercing.
“Your mouth was made to suck my cock.”
I moaned and relaxed my throat. Lifting my gaze to his, I let him know I was ready. I released his cock, dropped my arm, slid my hand into my panties, and ran my fingers along my wet, slippery slit. With my other hand, I held onto his thigh.
With his first, long stroke into my mouth, I slid two fingers into my cunt.
“Your pussy is mine. Fuck my pussy, baby. Slide those fingers deep.”
I did, plunging in, and curling them inside to find the sweet spot to send electric tingles into my clit.
“You look so good on your knees with my dick in your mouth.” He thrust in and stilled. “Suck.”
I slurped on his cock, sucking the head, and bobbing on the shaft.
“You’re a good little whore. Now open up so I can fuck your mouth.” His voice strained, and he forced more of his cock into my mouth.
As his thrusts hit harder, I matched the intensity, ruthlessly strumming my clit then plunging into my soft, wet hole. My nostrils flared, spit trickled onto my chin, and my nails scored the back of his thigh as I fought to breathe.
“Take a deep breath because I’m about to fuck your throat. Give me your fingers. I want to taste how wet you are from sucking my dick.” Cruz jerked his cock from my mouth, and I gasped a breath, pulled my fingers from my panties, and lifted my arm.
Cruz clasped his hand around my wrist, shoved my fingers into his mouth, and sucked the juices soaking my hand. “So.” Suck. “Fucking.” He licked between them, cleaning me of my wetness. “Good.”
Three seconds later, my fingers were in my cunt again, and his cock was in my mouth. This time, he fucked my face with an unholy intensity.
“Fuck, Micki.”
I choked and gagged. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Every thrust stretched my throat. I couldn’t swallow, suffocating as he gripped my skull, held me immobile, and fucked my mouth.
“Choke on it. I love to see my cock in your mouth.”
Spit dripped from my chin. I swirled my tongue along his shaft, sucking him while he continued to thrust into my mouth.
“A beautiful messy whore. Are you my whore, Micki?”
I whimpered, aching, because I loved him like this, taking me, using me, only me.
“I’m going to come down your throat. Deep breath, baby.”