Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
A Rough Morning
I t was like a dream for Nelle. And it played out that way in her head as she slept long after…
For a moment, Nelle caught herself slipping into a dream where a gigantic muffin spoke to her. An actual muffin. A blueberry muffin. Ten feet tall. Two of the blueberries as eyes. The muffin top lifting and lowering… as the mouth…?
Before Nelle could speak to the muffin she felt a wet warmth between her legs. It jolted the weird dream away and made her suck in a breath. She felt a finger touch between her legs. A thumb. A thick thumb. Stroking up, parting her labia, pressing against her clit.
Her hips moved. This was instinct. Nelle swallowed hard. Her teeth chattered and her eyes started to flicker and open. She remembered where she was. Sins of Fire Real Anarchy West. The clubhouse. The bikers. These crazy outlaws and their own set of rules.
For a moment she feared some aggressive stranger had gotten between her legs… Her legs started to close. Hands clasped at her inner thighs. Then a voice growled, “No, sweetheart. I’m not stopping until you come.”
The second she heard it was Slade’s voice, her legs opened freely and her pussy became soaked. She grabbed at the sheets on the bed and turned her head to the right to bite at a pillow.
Slade’s huge, strong hands gripped at her hips first, but then began to work up her body. Up the T-shirt she stole from one of Slade’s dresser drawers. His hands moved over her breasts, cupping with force. Slade pulled at Nelle, driving her entire body down against his mouth. With force.
Slade’s tongue darted forward and thrust into Nelle. Slithering inside her pussy, circling and curling, leaving her grinding her hips and moaning into the pillow. At the mercy of Slade and his hungry tongue.
Not a bad place to be.
Not a bad place to be at all…
When Nelle woke, she didn’t think for a second she was in a dream or had been dreaming. Everything was real. All too real. The scary stuff and the pleasure-filled stuff.
At some point either Slade or someone he ordered around brought Nelle’s bag into the room.
To her right she watched as Slade put on his leather cut, reached for a gun and tucked it away. The sight of the weapon sent chills throughout her body. She thought about her two sisters. Shot to death. And here was Nelle with an outlaw who carried a gun.
Slade turned his head. “Morning, sweetheart. Maggie will be serving up some coffee at the bar. Stay put at the corner seat if you venture out. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Should I ask…”
“No,” Slade growled.
He walked to the door and left the room. Nelle felt empty, but she reminded herself it was a good empty. A reminder that empty had purpose. No feelings in this place. Being here meant just surviving for another day. Another night. Hiding. Being protected.
And the feel of Slade’s tongue between her legs wasn’t a bad thing. Not at all.
Nelle suddenly craved coffee. That required her to find panties. A bra. Something to change into.
Once dressed, she walked out of Slade’s bedroom and worked her way toward the main part of the clubhouse. She felt her heart racing. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. No idea where Slade was. And no idea what would happen if one of the other bikers decided to come at her. There were still plenty of rules about the motorcycle club she had no idea about.
When she saw Maggie behind the bar, there was a sad sense of relief.
Maggie looked at Nelle and smiled. “Hey. Good morning. Coffee?”
“Yes. Please.”
“I think Muffin is making his famous pancakes too. They cure hangovers. It’s magical.”
Nelle nodded.
“You’re still sticking around, huh?” Nova asked as she sat next to someone.
That someone was Mara. Fitz’s old lady. Looking pissed off and drinking a glass of whiskey with her coffee. Nova handled the quick introductions between Nelle and Mara.
“Inked up yet?” Mara asked.
Nelle shook her head.
“Risky out here then,” Mara said. “Hey, maybe Fitz will carry you into his bedroom. How about that?”
“Your… husband…? Or…”
Nova touched Nelle’s hand. “Rough morning for Mara. She’s about ready to kill Fitz.”
“When they fuck someone in the clubhouse, fine,” Mara said. “But bringing that stuff home? These fucking disgusting little whores…?” Mara looked at Maggie. “No offense.”
“You have a way with words, Mara,” Maggie said.
Nelle felt really uncomfortable. She sipped her coffee. She swallowed hard.
“It’s a busy life,” Nova whispered to Nelle. “How are you doing? With everything going on. You came back, huh?”
“No idea what I’m doing here, to be honest,” Nelle said. “It just feels right.”
“Sometimes it does,” Nova said.
Mara lifted her glass of whiskey and downed the entire thing.
“Well, ladies, cheers to another day in the life,” Mara said. “Nova, I’ll see you around. Nelle, if you’re smart, you won’t let anyone ink your pretty body and you’ll be free.”
“Mara, relax,” Nova said. “You can’t comprehend what Nelle has been through.”
“Stick around then,” Mara, looking right at Nelle. “It’ll only get worse.”
Mara stumbled a little and then laughed. Maggie looked nervous but knew not to speak a word. If she did, she figured Mara would slam the empty glass against her face.
“She should not be driving,” Nelle whispered to Nova.
“I know,” Nova whispered. “Fuck.”
Mara walked toward the door.
Nelle stood up. “You shouldn’t be driving like that. I don’t care who you are. You’re putting other people in danger.”
“Oh, this bitch did not just try to tell me what to do,” Mara said.
“I have two dead sisters,” Nelle said. “Shot to death. Murdered. Maybe nothing to do with a stupid drunk driver, but it hurts. And if you go out there…”
Mara turned and walked toward Nelle.
Fuck, Nelle thought.
Mara had a very intense look in her eyes. Drunk, angry… and sad. Hurt. Crushed. Nova started to get in the way, but Mara pointed at her.
“Don’t make me hit you, Nova,” Mara said.
The clubhouse door opened and in walked Darrow and Slade. The two bikers could easily read the room and they quickly jumped into action. Slade ran toward Nelle.
“What the fuck did you do?” he growled at her.
“She was just trying to help,” Nova said.
Mara was still ready for a fight when Darrow gently put an arm around her and led her toward the clubhouse door and out. Nelle sensed that Slade was beyond pissed off. She then felt Slade grab her by the back of her jeans and start to drag her.
“What the hell?” Nelle cried out as she thrashed.
“Mara is inked up,” Slade growled. “So is Nova. You’re not. Remember what I told you. You’re not better than a fucking deecee serving coffee. And you want to pick a fight? I’ll give you something to wrestle with.”
Nelle felt her breath escape her lungs and forget how to refill them. Slade dragged her even though she tried to walk as fast as she could. One second she was at the bar waiting for coffee and pancakes…
… the next she was being thrown back into Slade’s room toward his bed…
Nelle stepped forward and looked back to see Slade approaching with speed. She had no idea what to expect.
“Slade, I didn’t mean to…”
Slade grabbed her by the hips and pulled her against him. She gasped as his large bulge pressed against her. Slade growled. Loudly. His fingers slid around to the front of her jeans and opened the weak button.
Next thing Nelle felt were two fingers sliding down into her panties, curling and pressing against her pussy. Finding her clit with ease. Pushing so hard.
“I don’t know what to do with you first, sweetheart,” Slade growled. “You are the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met in my life. Yet I can’t find myself wanting to toss you to the curb.”
Nelle purred and bent forward, reaching for the bed. Slade pressed himself against her ass. His fingers moved from her pussy and out of her panties.
Looking forward, nervous, Nelle didn’t get the chance to see Slade as he pressed his own two fingers to his mouth, tasting her wetness. Slade grabbed Nelle’s ass and lifted, then threw her to the bed. She almost did a somersault because of Slade’s strength. He walked along the side of the bed, face twisted with rage.
“So I have a plan now for you, sweetheart,” Slade said.
He surprised Nelle when he climbed onto the bed. Sitting up, legs stretched out, Slade opened his jeans and pushed them down.
Nelle sat up on her knees, jaw slowly dropping, watching Slade pulled his huge cock free. Standing tall and thick, veins pulsing with desire. Slade stroked himself just once. Root to tip. Then his hand was gone.
“You’re going to ride my cock until I come, Nelle,” Slade ordered. “And then you’re going to wear my ink.”