33. Quinn
33
QUINN
“ Y ou don’t have to do this, if you don’t feel up to it,” Smoke says that evening when he pulls a crisp navy T-shirt over his head.
“You almost sound like you don’t want me to,” I say as I stand, confused, in front of my wardrobe.
He steps behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and stooping to rest his chin on my shoulder.
“I’m just worried about you. Melody’s arrival was a shock for you. What she said was…a lot.”
A lot doesn’t even begin to describe the feelings I’ve shuffled through over the course of the day.
Kinsey insisted on covering at the bakery.
And Smoke behaved like…
well, a boyfriend. He went to the diner and got Margie to pack us up some of her chicken noodle soup, stacked BLTs, and salty fries.
Then, he went down to the bakery two hours later to get us chocolate cake from Kinsey.
“It’s gonna involve some ribbing, I would imagine. The guys are probably gonna give me shit, turning up with a woman. There are some brothers from out of town expecting a party, come in to give us some extra support. We should definitely do it at some point, but it doesn’t need to happen today if you’re feeling low.”
I sigh.
“No, I think the distraction would be good and healthy. But my favorite dresses are all over at your place.”
“What makes them your favorites?”
“They make me feel good. And they fit well. I like ‘em best.”
Smoke places a chaste kiss to my neck, then stands up straight. “I’m gonna choose, and you’re going to wear it.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
Smoke looks confused. “Why would it be in your closet if you don’t like it?”
“Oh, you clearly don’t know women. We have the clothes we bought when we were skinnier. And the clothes we bought when we were bigger. And we don’t get rid of either, because we’re constantly changing size and shape. And then there’s the clothes we bought on a whim, when we were down, or when everyone else was wearing it. And it cost too much to throw out or give away, so it sits in your closet staring at you, begging you to wear it, but it’s not even your tenth or twentieth pick because you really want to wear the super-soft faded clothes you bought ten years ago. Even though they have holes. And don’t get me started on the sweaters that itch around your neck and make you want to tear the thing off by midafternoon.”
Smoke looks at me like I just grew a second head. “What? You keep clothes that don’t fit?”
“Yes,” I say, exasperated. “Because you never know when they might fit.”
He reaches into the closet and pulls out a denim dress I like, rather than love.
“Sugar,” he says, pulling it off the hanger. “Clothes should never shame you. You don’t love them, they don’t fit right, you toss them.” He slides the dress over my head and wiggles my arms through it. “And for the record, you could wear a sack and still look beautiful.”
He rummages in the bottom of my closet and pulls out a well-worn pair of cowboy boots in a tan leather. “Now, let me put these on,” he says. “You need socks.”
I grab a pair and pass them to him before he playfully pushes me down onto the bed. “Sit.”
He kneels in front of me, then places my left foot right over his dick, before winking at me. Gently, he lifts my right foot and kisses and bites my right toe until I flop back onto the bed. “You have the cutest fucking feet. Anyone ever tell you that? You could make a fortune selling feet pics.”
I lift onto my elbows so I can watch. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Smoke’s eyes darken. “Anything.
”
“I think I’ve always had a…thing. For being watched. I don’t know how far it goes. I don’t think I’m an all-out exhibitionist who would like to go to a sex party and be watched by everybody. But being seen on some level doesn’t scare me. So, when I’ve considered what I might do if I wasn’t tethered here, I’ve considered one of those adult accounts making feet videos in the past.”
Smoke runs his tongue up the sole of my foot.
“Then, I’m going to figure out how to make that work for you so you can try it, in baby steps. You could start with making them for me, first. Use my name in them to practice. Would that make you happy?”
“Yes.” It requires no thought to answer.
Because I trust him.
“Good girl.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Feet pics and videos? No. I’d even help you make ‘em. Gives me a reason to put my hands on them.”
I smile at that. “There are more things I think I’d like to try between you and me. Could we go through the list you talked about the other night?”
The words I want to ask sit just beyond my bravery.
He parts my legs, and smooths his hands along my thighs, before sliding them to my butt and pulling me to him.
“You asked me in the bakery, when I spanked you, if you were my submissive, and I corrected you. I told you that you were a submissive. As of right now, I’m changing that. You’re mine, Quinn. In every way that matters.”
His words make me smile. “Thank you.”
“And in case I wasn’t clear, yes, we can make our own list, because you’re a natural. And I really look forward to testing your limits. Now, let’s finish putting these boots on before I get second thoughts and keep you here in bed instead.”
Diligently, he pulls my socks on, making sure the seam and heel are in their rightful places. Then, he pulls on my boots before tugging me to my feet.
“Did I tell you I had a daydream once? That you…umm…” I feel my cheeks go pink. “Had your way with me on the pool table in the clubhouse.” The words come out fast, in one long stream.
Smoke groans. “When was this?”
“The day you caught me…masturbating. That’s what I was thinking about. You, and me, and?—”
“A pool table. And you’re telling me now, before we leave for the clubhouse and have to look at the damn thing all night.”
I grin. “Yes.”
He kisses me, solidly, wetly, with more energy than I expected, given we have to leave, but I love it.
“You’re killing me, sugar,” he grumbles, finally.
It’s another half hour before we walk into the chaos of the club party. It’s different than the barbecue. Darker lights, darker music, darker vibe. Old ladies are there, but so are the club girls, making no bones about throwing themselves at the men.
I see two of them look at Smoke and me when we enter, and I can feel myself getting smaller under their gaze.
“Ow,” I say, when Smoke pinches the skin just beneath my butt cheek.
“What was that for?”
“I saw them look; I felt your shoulders droop. No need, sugar. You’re worth a thousand of them to me.” He places his lips near my ear.
“And you’re insulting me in two ways.”
I look up at him.
“I am?”
He nods. “One, you’re assuming I might want one of them more than you, and somehow find you lacking, which is completely inaccurate. And two, you’re insulting my taste in women.”
I grin and then bite down on my lip.
“How do you always know the right thing to say?”
“Because I’m figuring you out, sugar.”
He takes my hand and leads me to a seat at the bar.
“Hop up there. I’m just going to drop our bags in my room. Duke, line us up two beers, please?”
“Will do, brother.” Duke pours my beer into a glass and leaves Smoke’s in the bottle.
The small gesture makes me smile.
“Hey, Quinn,” Taco says as I see Smoke’s broad shoulders disappear down a corridor.
“Just wanted to say sorry for making a scene the other night.”
He offers me his hand to shake, and it seems awfully formal.
But I take it and shake it.
“Thank you. I think we both know who was making the bigger scene, but there may be a lesson in letting a woman choose if she’s free game.”
Taco shrugs.
“Women who come into a biker’s clubhouse should do a little more research about what they’re letting themselves in for.” He says it with a smile, and I can’t help but return it.
“Lessons learned all around, then.” I offer him my beer glass, and he knocks the neck of his bottle to it.
Smoke reappears and steps behind me.
His strong, looming presence reassuring.
“Taco,” he says gruffly.
Taco puts his hands up.
“Just apologizing to Quinn for making shit awkward.”
I turn my head and look up at Smoke.
“He was. I accepted.”
He kisses my neck, and I find myself smiling as I tilt my head to give him more room.
I’m not sure if he’s trying to make a point or just wants to, but I don’t care.
“Good,” Smoke says, finally.
“That’s big of you, man.”
Taco nods and then walks away.
“That’s it?” I ask. “You’re not going to apologize to him?”
“Already did. The next day. For the sake of the club, we can’t remain mad at each other. If we do shit we shouldn’t, we apologize and move on. Bearing a grudge won’t help.”
I reach behind me and squeeze his thigh.
“Does that apply to you and me?”
He comes to stand in front of me.
“You mean, if we argue?”
I can’t help but smile at him.
He’s so goddamn handsome.
“Yes. Will we talk about it, or do we have to fist-fight, first?”
Smoke takes a swallow of his beer, and I realize he seems completely at ease.
“Or maybe I just throw you over my knee and spank you.”
“I might just capitulate if you do.”
He winks at me.
“That’s the idea.”
We stand at the bar for a little while, chatting with Catfish.
But it becomes harder not to stare.
There’s a heady undertone of sex and violence that sets me, not on edge, but…
something.
It seems cheap to reduce it to arousal, but at its heart, I guess that’s what it is.
I go to Smoke’s room to use his bathroom, and when I come out, I find Grudge inhaling on a cigarette while a woman is on her knees sucking his cock.
There is nothing worshipful about it.
It’s seedy, quick, and yet, still delicious.
Grudge glances up and sees me.
He winks, then gestures for me to move along without missing a beat.
Raven and Ember arrive with Wraith and Atom, and soon, we’re drinking champagne that Ember brought with her.
She doesn’t trust the alcohol behind the bar.
So, we sip and chat and laugh and dance.
Dancing is fun. And it doesn’t even matter that there are only the three of us dancing.
I’ve long since stopped worrying about what the club girls think of me, since Smoke set me straight.
All that matters is that I’m with friends, and I can see Smoke watching me from across the room.
His eyes on me make me feel all kinds of things.
Certainly, my panties are damp with arousal.
But there is a lifting of inhibitions.
It’s like knowing I can’t do anything wrong in his eyes, which only serves to make me braver.
Bolder.
As the singer shouts about being shook all night long, I throw myself into enjoying this moment.
Maybe this is the life I’ve been waiting for.
A found family made of old school friends and newcomers to town.
Of finding a home of my own in Smoke’s house and within his club.
I haven’t called Melody back, but I got a message from my father saying she called him.
It speaks volumes about how much I mean to him.
That the return of my long-lost sister isn’t something worthy of a call.
I guess that’s the sum of who we are.
Strangers linked by blood and circumstance.
I don’t want to help Melody any more than I want to help a stranger on the street.
But the person who gets hurt if I refuse is my niece.
She’s innocent in all this.
I’m so torn.
I never thought I wanted to belong so badly.
I thought belonging was what kept me trapped.
Being a part of my family meant being the one who took one for the team.
Who stayed behind. Who gave up their dreams.
But I see Raven, a woman who was hurt by the Bratva in their quest to find her husband, and she’s thriving with Wraith’s loving care.
And I see Ember, twirling in her Property of Atom cut.
The most independent woman I know, allowing herself to be claimed by the brooding enforcer.
And then, there’s me.
Cut-less, but I feel like I’m wearing a cut anyway, because Smoke never lets me out of his sight.
“You wanna dance?” The man catches me off guard.
He’s what Smoke called a hang around.
He’s not wearing a leather cut that describes him as a prospect or patched-in biker.
He’s attractive, close to my age.
But he doesn’t have me in a chokehold like Smoke does.
I shake my head and point in Smoke’s direction.
“Go ask my boyfriend if I can.”
Smoke raises one eyebrow at me, then stares at the hang around with a glare that could blast through solid metal as he walks towards us.
“Sorry, you weren’t wearing a cut. Thought you were free p?—”
“Say pussy and I might slap you,” I say.
“And you should back away. Now.”
Smoke joins us, but instead of addressing the hang around, Smoke walks behind me, undoes one of the buttons of my dress, and slides his hand inside until he’s cupping my breast.
“You need any help, sugar?” he asks.
It’s as though I’ve suddenly been plugged into an electrical socket as a vibration starts in my feet and runs through to my fingertips.
Heat fills my cheeks, but I couldn’t move now if I wanted to.
Ember raises an eyebrow in surprise, but I see Atom curling his finger at her, telling her to join him.
“No, I explained he’d need your permission to dance with me, and he didn’t seem to get it.”
Smoke runs a trail of kisses up the side of my neck.
But I can tell he’s also looking straight at the hang around.
“You unclear about the rules of the clubhouse when it comes to women?” Smoke asks.
The hang around raises his hands.
“Didn’t mean offense, Smoke. It’s just, she’s not wearing a cut. My mistake.”
Beneath the cover of my dress, Smoke brushes his thumb over my nipple, and my whole body contracts at the action.
The hang around’s eyes drop to what we’re doing, and then he lifts his gaze back to Smoke quickly.
“Then why the fuck are you still standing there, watching me touch my woman?”
I’m not sure what’s happened with the wiring between my head and my body.
Surely, it’s not normal to feel so turned on and yet so embarrassed at the same time.
I’m certain, if Smoke dipped his hands beneath my panties right now, his fingers would be soaked.
And yet, I find myself worrying about where my friends are and if they can see.
But I notice Atom ushering Ember down the hallway to their room, and I can no longer see Wraith and Raven.
“Looks like Smoke’s finally pulled his head out of his ass,” Catfish says, grabbing the hang around by the back of his collar.
“Think you’ve got other shit you want to be doing instead of fighting, brother.”
I don’t look at where the hang around is taken, but in the darkness of the corner of the bar, I realize the world is going back to what it was doing.
Smoke still has his hand down the front of my dress and the length of his erection pressed up against my butt.
I turn my head slightly.
“I told him no.”
Smoke finally smiles.
“I know you did. I particularly liked the part where you told him to come get my permission. You knew I would never give it, right?”
“I did. You called me your woman.”
He releases his hold on my breast, and I miss the warmth immediately, but he spins me to face him.
“I did.”
“Did you mean it?”
“Absolutely. You’re my woman, and my submissive, right?”
“Doesn’t it bother you that I…?”
Smoke takes my hand and leads me farther into the corner of the clubhouse, where the pool table goes unused.
He lifts me onto the green baize, so my back is to the few people who could see us where we are.
“Finish your sentence,” Smoke instructs.
When he talks to me like that, I find it hard to do anything but.
Especially when he just seated me on the place of my fantasies.
“Doesn’t it bother you that I liked it?”
He runs a knuckle down my cheek.
“Sugar. What part of ‘whatever you need’ don’t you get? You and me, we aren’t like everyone else. We like the edge. We aren’t gonna have kids, or enjoy vanilla sex once a week if we’re lucky. We’re gonna enjoy all this. And we’re gonna trust my brothers. You think Ember and Raven are missing by accident? Your friends aren’t here because I asked my brothers to make sure they weren’t. And no one will ever tell them what happened after they left unless you want to.”
I feel that same clenching in my core.
“And what’s that?”
“Your fantasy.” He taps the end of my nose with his finger.
“Trust me. What’s your safe word, sugar?”
My throat is dry, and I have to swallow hard to answer.
“Red.”
He slides his hands up my thighs and loops his fingers over the waistband of my panties.
“And who’s your Dom?”
I smile at this.
“You are.”
“And do you trust me to give you what you need right now?” I see the raw desire for me in his eyes.
But I also see something more.
Pride. That maybe because of who I am, just as I am, I’m enough for him.
Maybe even more than enough for him.
I glance over my shoulder.
No one is watching us right now.
At least, not directly or intently.
But the mood in the room has shifted and changed into something…
intense. And only male members of the club and club girls seem to remain.
“Did you plan this?” I ask.
“Not really. But the brothers know me well enough.”
“Is this something you’ve done often?” The thought puts a tiny nick in my blossoming confidence.
“Look at me, Quinn.”
I do as he says.
“Never with anyone who mattered. Never with someone I wanted to do it again and again and again with. Never with someone I could see a future with. Never with someone it meant more than just a quick fuck with. Never with someone who needed it. Never with someone I wanted to trust me at the most visceral level. Never with you, Quinn. And that’s all I want.”
I slide my hand around the back of his neck and tug his lips to me.
“I trust you,” I whisper before we meet in a tender kiss.
His hands fist the elastic of my panties, pulling them tight against me, and I roll my hips on the contact.
“You’re gonna fucking kill me, sugar. Lift your hips.”
I do as he says, and he tugs my underwear down my legs.
“This pussy is mine. These panties are mine. You’re mine, Quinn. Every single thing about you is mine.”
I think about all the books I’ve read, how many scenes I’ve read where the man says things like this to his woman.
“I love when you talk that way, Smoke.”
“Good, because we’re not leaving this pool table until you believe everything I said tonight.”
“I’ll believe it quickly,” I say, glancing over my shoulder again.
Catfish catches my eye and winks.
He’s smiling, not at all sexual.
Like it’s just another day in the clubhouse.
Somehow, it makes me feel…
safer.
Smoke grins.
“I’ll decide whether you believe it or not. And I’m going to need some persuading.”
He grabs my feet and places them on the edge of the pool table so I’m wide open to him.
But then, he takes a moment to fix the hem of my dress so I’m not revealing anything to anyone but him.
He leans back against the wall of the clubhouse behind him, crosses one foot over the other, and just stares at my pussy intently.
The feeling that I could wither and die from embarrassment lasts for a moment.
But the longer I look at him studying me, the more aroused I become.
The more I need him to touch me.
The more I need pressure and fullness and…
“Please, Smoke,” I beg.
“Good girl,” he says.
He steps back to me, gripping my shoulders.
“This time, we’re going to come together. But next time I have you on this pool table, you’ll come for me alone, just like you did the day you had this fantasy. Get my cock out.”
I clumsily reach forward and quickly open his belt buckle, button, and zipper.
It’s a stretch to push the denim down, but Smoke helps.
“Let ‘em watch me fuck you raw,” he says, lining up his cock with my entrance.
When he pushes inside, I gasp, but then quickly close my mouth.
“Nah-ah,” Smoke says. “Let ‘em hear you, Quinn. Let them know how good I make you feel and how loud you can get when you come.”
He slips his hands around my ass, tugging me right to the edge of the pool table. I try to wrap my legs around his hips and cling to his neck.
“Feel that balance? You want that orgasm, but you don’t want to fall off the table either?”
I nod.
“Good, because that’s all I want you to focus on. Those two things. Not falling off the table and finding a way to come on my cock.”
Smoke doesn’t even look up at anyone around us. He’s utterly immersed in the two of us.
And it’s enough.
He’s ruthless in the way he fucks me. Because of our position, when I look down, I can see the outline of his cock through my skin, where he’s pushing up inside.
It’s quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
And in the safety of his arms, I fall apart.