Chapter 10 #2
“No,” Foxy counters, slathering strawberry jam on her biscuit. “you talked about this last night, and I told you I wasn’t going to be a prisoner in my own home.”
Tacoma slams his fists onto the table, making the dishes jump, but Foxy doesn’t even blink.
“Throw a fit all you want, big man.” She shrugs. “But I’m going shopping today.”
“I could use a new dress,” Roxy chimes in before taking a sip of her coffee.
“Don’t start, woman,” Eagle sighs, running a hand over his face. “Nobody is going anywhere.”
I watch as Roxy, Foxy, and Frankie all lift a defiant brow. Uh-oh.
“Aw, fuck,” Bane groans, letting his head fall back on his shoulders.
Foxy turns to me with a sweet smile that doesn’t quite hide the mischief in her eyes. “June, you want to come with us?”
“Uh...” I glance at Journey, who’s watching me with narrowed eyes.
“Hell no,” he says like he’s the ruler of what I do.
Heat rises in my chest at his tone. “I’m not a child. I don’t need your permission,” I tell him, then purposefully turn back to Foxy and force a bright smile. “I’d love to go.”
“How much trouble do you think we’re in?” I ask nervously as we pull away from the compound in a blacked out SUV.
Frankie and Foxy share a look and laugh.
“None,” Foxy says confidently. “They just have to pound their chests sometimes. They mean well, but don’t let your man run all over you.”
“I’ve been an old lady for fifty years,” Roxy adds, patting my knee. “You’ll learn when to give in, and when to push back.”
I’m not so sure about that. Journey looked downright murderous when I agreed to come shopping, and I’m not even sure what we are to each other. One night together doesn’t make me his “old lady,” whatever that means.
“We’re here,” Frankie announces as Noble pulls into a parking space in front of Deziree’s.
Journey, Tacoma, and Bane park their bikes beside our SUV, their expressions grim. I reach for the door handle just as Journey yanks it open from the outside.
“Make it quick,” he growls.
“Bossy,” I mutter, sliding past him.
He swats my butt as I pass, leaning in to whisper, “I’m gonna give that sassy mouth something else to do later.”
I roll my eyes to hide the shiver that runs through me at his words. “Promises, promises.”
Foxy laughs and pulls me into the boutique by the arm, leaving Journey scowling in the parking lot.
Inside, I spot Stella behind the register. Her eyes find me immediately, and her jaw drops. She abandons her post and drags me behind a rack of sundresses.
“Oh my God, you hussie! You slept with my brother!” she hisses, her gray eyes wide.
“What? No! I—” The protest dies on my lips as my face erupts in flames. There’s no way I can lie to my best friend.
Stella squeals, then gags, then pulls me into a fierce hug, then gags again. I can’t help but laugh at her dramatic reaction.
“I can’t believe this,” she whispers. “My best friend and my brother. I’m happy for you, but also, eww.” She makes a face that has me giggling despite my embarrassment.
“You’re crazy.” I grin.
“Ma’am,” a customer calls.
Stella reluctantly releases me. “We are SO talking about this later,” she mouths, pointing a finger at me as she backs away.
Oh boy.
I’m examining a flowy sundress when Foxy appears at my side holding up a dark red lace lingerie set. It’s sheer, strappy, and sinfully sexy.
“You need this,” she declares.
I feel my eyes widen. “I’ve never worn anything like that.”
Foxy gives me a look that speaks volumes. “Trust me,” she says, pressing the hanger into my hands. “He’ll lose his mind.”
The thought of Journey’s reaction makes my heart hammer against my ribs. I take the lingerie to the register, blushing furiously as Stella rings it up with a knowing smirk.
“Eww,” she gags as she hands me my bag.
I stick my tongue out at her.
“Whatever.” Laughing, she moves around the counter and I give her a quick hug before joining the other women outside.
“Let’s roll!” Tacoma barks as we pile back into the SUV.
“Cool your jets, honey.” Foxy rolls her eyes. “He’s so damn bossy.”
“They all are,” Frankie agrees.
“Yep.” Roxy nods.
I guess I should be glad it’s not just Journey. Must be a biker thing.
We’re about two miles from the compound when Noble’s eyes lock on something in the rearview mirror, and his easy demeanor evaporates. “Hold on,” he barks.
I twist in my seat to look out the back window. Two black Escalades are hauling ass as they approach.
“What the—”
Noble floors it. The Tahoe surges forward, and I grab the door handle to steady myself. “Watch out!” Foxy and I shout in unison as we nearly clip Tacoma’s bike in front of us.
Journey, Bane, and Tacoma glance back, instantly alert to the danger. They swerve to the sides, giving Noble a clear path forward.
I’m thrown against Frankie as we take a curve too fast, my heart pounding in my throat. One Escalade pulls alongside us, so close I can see the blacked-out windows, and then it swerves toward us.
Noble yanks the wheel as City pulls out his gun.
Foxy is pressed flat against the seat, both arms wrapped protectively around her belly, her face pale but her jaw set. “I knew I should have brought my gun. This is what I get for listening to my ol’ man.”
Roxy grips the handle above the door with white knuckles. “He’s just trying to protect you, dear.”
My heart is in my throat. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can only hold on as Noble tears down a dirt road, kicking up a cloud of dust behind us.
“Hold on!” Noble shouts as the second Escalade clips our rear bumper.
I reach out and grab hold of Foxy’s hand.
She gives me a squeeze as she growls, “Tacoma better kill those motherfuckers.”
Kill them? Shouldn’t we be calling the cops?
Through the windshield, I see the compound gates ahead, already open. Armed bikers line the fence, weapons raised. I glance back at the Escalade and see it skid to a halt.
Noble barely gets the Tahoe stopped before Journey is ripping open the door. His hands shake as he yanks me out and pulls me into his arms, gripping me so tightly I can barely breathe.
I don’t care. I wrap my arms around his waist, and hold on just as tight.
“You’re okay,” he says against my hair. “Christ Almighty, you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” I whisper back.
I shift my gaze to Tacoma with one hand on the back of Foxy’s head, and the other on her belly as he whispers fiercely against her temple.
Bane appears out of nowhere and wraps Frankie up without a word, his face murderous.
Tacoma lifts his head, his blue eyes ice-cold. “Church in an hour.”
Journey grunts as he reaches past me to grab my shopping bag, then takes my hand in his and leads me toward the clubhouse.
He takes the stairs two at a time, and I struggle to keep up.
“I’m sorry!” I plead, feeling the fury radiating off of him. If we had listened and stayed here, none of this would have happened.
“Shut up.” Kicking his door closed, he drops my bag on the floor.
I watch in horror as the red lacy garment spills out onto the floor.
“Baby,” he rasps, bending down to pick it up. The delicate material looks ridiculous dangling from his rough, tattooed fingers.
“I–”
His stormy gray eyes lift to mine, and my knees go weak. “Put it on.” It’s a demand.
“What?”
He tosses the scrap of material at me, and I fumble to catch it.
“Put it on,” he repeats.
“But—” I shrink back. Shouldn’t we discuss what just happened? Someone was chasing us for heaven’s sake.
“Do it,” he snaps.
My mouth snaps shut. “Okay.” With my heart beating a mile a minute, I head into the bathroom and quickly change.
When I glance at myself in the mirror, my breath stalls in my lungs. Holy wow. The lace hugs my curves, the sheer panels leaving nothing to the imagination. I’ve never felt this sexy before.
Opening the door, I step out to find Journey perched on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, waiting. His eyes rake over me from head to toe, and I watch his throat bob as he swallows hard.
“Come here,” he commands, his voice rough, like he swallowed gravel.
I approach on unsteady legs, stopping between his parted knees.
His calloused hands slide up the back of my thighs, his thumbs tracing circles on my skin through the lace. “Part your legs for me, princess.”
Holding onto his shoulders, I widen my stance, and his fingers trail up the inside of my thigh to the thin lace between my legs. He finds me already soaking wet, and hums his approval.
“That’s my girl.” His eyes lock on mine. “Get on your knees.”
I’ve never done this before, but I can tell by the war waging behind his stare that he needs me to give him this. I drop my hands on his knees, and sink down between his legs.
Holding my stare, he unbuckles his belt. “Pull me out,” he instructs.
Wanting to please him, I unbutton the top of his jeans and drag down the zipper. He watches my every move as I reach into his jeans and pull him out. He’s hard as stone, yet velvety soft.
“Good girl,” he hums.
My eyes flick between his as I stroke him from root to tip. He’s enjoying this–enjoying having me at his feet, submitting to his wishes.
“Open that pretty mouth.”
I do as he says, opening my mouth and wrapping my lips around him.
“Fuck yes,” he groans, gathering my hair out of my face so he can watch.
I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but the sounds he’s making and the way his thighs tense under my hands embolden me.
“Fuck, baby. Just like that.”
Looking up at him through my lashes, I work him with my mouth.
“Yes, baby. God, you look so sexy with my cock in your mouth.” He praises me over and over, telling me all the dirty things he’s going to do to me.
“That’s enough.” He tugs on my hair, and I release him with a pop.
He strokes his rod with his free hand. “Get up here.”
Climbing to my feet, I put a knee to the mattress beside his hip, then do the same with the other. “Good girl,” he hums, pushing the lace aside between my legs and guiding me down onto him, inch by agonizing inch.
“Oh,” I moan, my head falling back.
“My baby feels so good wrapped around me,” he groans as his hand wraps around my throat.
I lift my head and lock my eyes on his. I love this dominant side of him, love the way he takes control while still making me feel safe.
“Ride me, princess,” he rasps.
I lock my wrists around his neck and roll my hips, finding my rhythm. “Like this?” I pant.
“Yeah, baby. Ride that dick.” His hand on my throat tightens just enough to send electricity racing down my spine as his other hand grips my hip, guiding me.
“Yes,” I moan, rocking and rolling my hips faster.
His hand drops from my throat to grab my hip, and he uses both hands to move me harder and faster. Up and down, up and down, until finally I shatter into a million pieces, squeezing him tightly.
“Fuck!” he grunts, squeezing my hips as he empties inside me.