Chapter Ten #2
He kicks off his jeans and sheaths himself, then he moves behind me, bending me forward with his cock lined up at my entrance.
I stare at my reflection as my breasts bounce.
His eyes meet mine and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
He reaches around and rubs my clit whilst he pounds into me.
I feel a hot sensation building deep in the pit of my stomach and I grab hold of my nipples like he had done moments ago.
My legs begin to shake, and Clay grabs my hair, pulling me to stand so his cock drives deeper.
I feel him shudder through his release whilst I ride out my own.
Our combined juices slide down my leg when he reaches between them, coating his fingers in our climax. He brings his finger to my mouth, and I lap it up, caught in the moment. I open my eyes to find him watching me with awe in the mirror, and my cheeks blush with embarrassment.
“That right there,” he nods towards my mouth, “was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
Clay
Belle lies next to me on the bed, the sheet draped loosely over her naked body.
I watch the rise and fall of her chest. Last night, when she stormed off, I honestly thought that was it, that I’d fucked any chance of getting with her.
And I certainly didn’t think I’d be lying here next to her.
She really is perfection. Watching her come apart on my cock was something extraordinary, and I hope to hell she doesn’t wake up this morning full of regret.
I gently move the hair from her face, and she stirs slightly under my touch, rolling onto her side. I can’t believe she thought I knew about Brandy. Not that I can blame her. I haven’t been the most forthcoming, and considering I asked Red to befriend her, I kind of had that coming.
Her soft snores fill the room. Now that I’ve had a taste, there is no way I will ever let her go. She stole my heart that first night on the bridge—not that I’d admit that to any fucker—but her eyes pleaded with me, begged me. I not only needed to save her, but she was destined to be mine.
My first task is to deal with Brandy. There is no fucking way I’ll let her get away with how she’s broken Belle. I have to talk to Pres, and I already know the fucker won’t agree.
I make my way into Drifter’s office, throwing myself down on the sofa.
“Come in, why don’t you, Clay,” he huffs. “You fucking brothers need to learn how to knock.”
I crack my neck side-to-side as Drifter places his phone on the desk and looks at me.
“What’s up?” he asks, giving me his full attention.
“Brandy . . .” Before I’ve even finished, he starts shaking his head.
“Not a chance, Clay, you know the rules.”
“Hear me out.”
“Clay, I love you, brother, but we don’t get involved in women drama.”
“Pres, Brandy is the reason Belle’s entire life is fucked-up. Just remove her from the club,” I snap. “She fucked her husband and is now playing happy fucking families with her kids.”
“And?” he asks with a shrug, “We all have a past. And Belle isn’t your ol’ lady, we can’t get involved with an outsider and club whore drama, you know how we work.”
“Fuck that shit, Pres,” I growl, and he arches a brow in warning. I know I’m pushing him, but I have to make this right for her, and who knows, one day, she might be my ol’ lady. “You all bent over backwards for Red.”
“That was fucking different and you know it,” he growls, slamming his fist on the desk.
“The night I met her, she was going to take her own life,” I argue, scrubbing my hands over my face. “I can’t let history repeat itself. I can’t have someone else’s blood on my hands.”
Drifter looks at me, his face full of sympathy, and I fucking hate it. I didn’t need sympathy back then, and I sure as hell don’t now. I groan, the memories flooding back to me. If I’d kept my dick in my pants, my brother would still be here.
“Your brother’s death was not your fault, and Bella is not your responsibility.”
I stand abruptly. “She is now.”
He mimics my movement, putting his hand on my shoulder.
“Sit the fuck down. I didn’t say we wouldn’t help, just that I’m not sacking one of my biggest earning dancers because she’s got beef with the woman you’re obsessing over.”
I sit back on the couch. I knew this wouldn’t be smooth sailing.
“We’ll come up with a plan. Maybe we can use her to get to the husband. But if Bella is sticking around, she’s going to have to face the fact that Brandy is a member of this club.”
“We’ll see about that,” I grumble, standing up and making my way to the door.
“Clay,” he growls, and I turn to face him, “don’t push me on this.”
I nod without as much as another word and leave his office.
I’ve been riding around for hours. I left the club shortly after speaking with Pres.
I couldn’t cope with the look of pity on his face, and I couldn’t face going back upstairs to Belle in case she’d woken full of regret.
So, I opted to ride. It’s what I always do when I need perspective.
The freedom of the road before me and the thrill of weaving through the traffic sorts my head out.
The rain crashes down on my visor. I can feel the grip below me, not quite what it was before, but it only adds to the thrill.
I pull up outside the strip club. I had no intention of coming here, but the bitch needs to know I’m not happy, and although he’s my Pres, Belle is going to be my forever.
She might not know it yet, but she’s unlocked something within me that died the day I saw my brother lying on that cold slab.
She’s ignited something I thought was long gone.
I don’t just want her, I need her. I crave her.
Turning off the engine, I sit in silence, battling with myself.
If I do this, if I go inside and challenge Brandy, I’ll piss Drifter off, but my conscience won’t let me leave it.
This bitch and her dirty fucking trash needs taken out.
It’s one thing to break a woman’s heart by stealing her man, but to take her children . . . that is some next level shit.
I nod at Jackson, the bouncer, and make my way through the entrance. Felicity greets me with a grin from ear to ear like the cat that got the cream. She places her long manicured nails on my kutte, and I feel myself shudder. This has never been my scene.
“Clay,” she purrs, “what are you doing here? Want a dance?” She runs her nails up my kutte and bites her lip seductively.
“Where’s Brandy?” I demand, and she snatches her hand away like I’ve burned her.
“What’d ya want that skank for?” she snaps, jealousy lacing her every word.
“Where the fuck is she, Felicity?”
“She’s in the back, but be careful, you’ll probably catch something. Come find me when you want a real woman,” she spits.
I storm into the back, the door crashing into the wall behind it. The girls all stop what they’re doing and look up in surprise. They don’t bother to cover up as I scan the room.
“Get the fuck out,” I shout, and the girls scurry towards the door.
Brandy follows, trying to slip past me sheepishly. I snatch her wrist in my hand, halting her.
“Not you.”
“Clay?” She visibly swallows. I keep hold of her wrist, waiting for the room to clear. She watches them leave longingly, her eyes dropping to the floor once we’re alone.
“Stay the fuck outta the clubhouse.”
She smirks. The bitch actually smirks, all the fear from moments ago gone. “Not a fucking chance,” she spits.
I shove her up against the wall, but it doesn’t faze her. She throws her head back, laughing like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
“And stay the fuck away from Bella.”
“Erm . . . why would I do that? I love toying with her.”
My jaw clenches as I battle with the urge to smother the bitch. “Because if you don’t, you’ll never fucking dance again. Shit, you’ll probably never walk again.”
“Does Pres know you’re down here threatening his dancers?”
“I don’t need Pres to know shit. I need you to stay the fuck outta her life. Do I make myself clear?”
The door crashes open, smashing into the same piece of plaster. Pres is standing in the entrance, and he looks positively pissed. Brandy screams, and I turn to look at her. She’s playing the victim like a pro. I roll my eyes. Surely, he won’t buy this shit.
“What the fuck is going on?” he bellows then puts his hands up. “Actually, I don’t wanna fucking hear it. Get your arse back to the club, now.”
Brandy runs up to him, her fake sobs filling the room.
“Oh my god, Pres, I was so scared,” she cries dramatically. I grit my teeth, preventing me from making this shitshow any worse, and walk towards the exit. He puts his arm out to stop me, and I look up at him.
“I fucking expect this from the prospects, not my VP.”
I push past his arm and storm out. Pissed at him. Pissed at myself. But more importantly, pissed that I can’t fucking fix this shit for Belle.
I clench my fist, ramming it into the brick wall, the pain ricochetting up my arm.
“Ugh! Fuck! Shit! Stupid fucking arsehole,” I shout out. I clench my fist, inspecting the damage.
“Shit, that fucker’s gonna hurt,” Jackson interjects. How long’s this fucker been watching me lose my shit?
“I’m good,” I say, swinging my leg over my bike. I rev the engine and grimace as the pain radiates through my arm. I turn the engine off because there’s no way I’m going to be able to ride back with my knuckles beginning to swell.
I sit on my bike ‘til Drifter appears. “What the fuck you still doing here?”
I lift my hand up as a way of explanation, completely deflated. He shakes his head.
“Get the fuck on,” he grunts as he gets on his own bike. I follow suit like a scolded child.