5. Butch
CHAPTER FIVE
BUTCH
W ith a black marker, I cross off the top name on a short list of fuckers who’ll burn for hurting my Candy.
One down. Two to go.
After Candy confided in me who’d harmed her, I wrote down their names on a sticky note. The list is stuck to the mirror above my dresser, a reminder of the vow I made to Candy a week earlier in the closet underneath the back staircase.
Lucky Luca took a little time tracking down. Thanks to the Hell’s Horsemen enforcer, we got a firsthand sighting of the weasel trying to sneak by FBI authorities at the state border.
Finally, I got revenge for Candy.
I would’ve preferred to get my hands dirty alone, but that’s not how the Mercy Ravens operate. Brothers never let brothers ride alone, on the road or on a mission. Chase made a promise to his woman, like I did mine. The fucker would die by our hands.
Either of us could have claimed the kill shot. We both wanted justice for our women. I’m not much for talking, but my MC brother is good at reading people. Chase didn’t need me to say I needed to be the one to do it. He just knew.
Working as a duo stealth team under the cover of darkness, we stalked up to the rundown motel Luca was staying in before kicking in the door. We wrangled and hogtied the pig, throwing him in the back of one of the MC’s unmarked vans before driving to an abandoned quarry.
Beating the shit out of him was a nice warmup, though nothing was as satisfying as having him stare helplessly back at me as I pointed a gun at his forehead.
“For Leslie,” I gritted through my teeth, letting him know exactly who sent me.
Pulling the trigger… mmm, fuck, it was good . Almost as good as being near Candy.
Speaking of…
I toss the marker back on my dresser and head for my bathroom. Chase and I did a quick scrub down at the kill site before burning our shit, but DNA can cling to the smallest of places. I need to shower before going to find Candy.
It’s after the witching hour. But if I’ve learned anything from watching Candy the past year, she’s too anxious to rest when the crew is away on assignment.
She’s awake—waiting for me.
By now, the entire club would’ve spread the news that Chase and I went “un-cut,” as in undercover without our leather biker vests. We only break the law when we must do the things that need to be done for the greater good. Killing is in our military DNA, and in our current mercenary work for the Mercy Ravens Security Company. It isn’t something we lose sleep over.
Still, protecting the club comes first. The less there is to identify us or our MC to the untimely demise of despicable individuals, the better.
If the news has spread in the club, then Candy has been waiting on the edge of a sharp blade for my return, and for me to report justice was served.
Quickly, I scrub myself down before bleaching the shower thoroughly. Not a single drop of Luca will come near my woman again .
My woman. I can’t wait to make it official.
Candy is mine, has been since I entered the club. The moment she looked over her shoulder to see who entered headquarters and greeted me with a smirk on one corner of her cupid lips, her pink hair fanning around her face, showing off those deep brown eyes of hers, I was fucking gone. I knew then she was the goddess I’d been searching to rule over me. The one to demand whatever the hell she wanted and, in return, give me the affection I crave.
The way this woman can get her way, it’s like she doesn’t have to try. She doesn’t need to raise her voice or threaten someone to get others to do what she wants. Candy simply commands it with an authoritative tone, and it happens. A natural domme.
Unfortunately for me, she’s not ready to accept her role as a domme. I may not have verbally given Candy a detailed description of how I want our relationship to play out— yet . Though I gave her a good idea, it will be me on my knees worshiping her, as any man should with her.
My brothers wouldn’t understand my need for submitting in the bedroom. They understand a woman taking care of them, but they probably have no clue how to hand over control for a woman to do what she wants to do in the bedroom.
The crew consists of alpha-aholes, one step away from going completely caveman once they find the woman they want to claim. Take our club president as an example. On more than one occasion, I’ve witnessed Altas throw Jo over his shoulder like a bag of rice and carry her off to their room when she pushes his buttons. And like many men, Atlas probably thinks he’s the one calling the shots when he’s carrying her off to do what we all damn well know he’s going to do with her.
Little do these guys know, they don’t hold any power when being dominant with a woman without her consent. It’s the submissive who allows them to take the lead. If the submitting partner doesn’t want it, it doesn’t happen. Thus, control must be granted.
For me, the appeal of being submissive is pretty straightforward .
My life as a mercenary biker is rough. Yeah, the work pays more than I could ask for. But the hours are long and tiring. I’m always on alert while working tech security at headquarters or on a mission. I sometimes need to make life-altering decisions at the drop of a hat. Control is part of the requirements for my job and club life.
Some like to be in control of every aspect of their life. I have the same urge to control everything—everything except the roles in the bedroom. With pillow time, I don’t want my responsibility to carry over. I don’t want to be the conductor in my sex play or call the shots.
Being the one to lead all the time is exhausting. Sex is a release from my control on life. It’s the moment I can give the reins to another and be vulnerable. The release is sweeter when I can submit and let my partner lead, and I’m all for being ordered to fuck my partner into oblivion.
For this one thing in my life, I want the responsibility to be in the hands of another person.
Does that mean the domme/sub relationship will spill over into other areas of our lives?
Possibly, but I only need it behind closed doors. I’m more than willing to share the control in all other aspects of the relationship. God willing, Candy gives me a chance.
With my towel hung low around my waist, I quickly make my way toward my dresser. I’m in a hurry to get to Candy. Not bothering to get fully dressed, I pull out a pair of athletic shorts. A shirt and boxers are a waste of time, and unnecessary.
Besides, I want her to get a nice eyeful of me. Rushing out of here to give her the good news is a valid excuse to forgo the extra clothing.
My towel slips from my waist to the floor. I’m about to bend over to tug my shorts on when I hear a soft voice behind me whisper, “Butch?”
My spine immediately stiffens. It’s rare when I’m caught off guard. An intruder in my private space is not something I tolerate.
But this person isn’t an intruder. No. I’ve invited her to use my suite whenever she wants. It seems Candy has cashed in on my offer .
Fuck if it doesn’t make me want to puff out my chest with triumph, minor victory or not. I immediately chastise myself for being happy she’s in my room. This isn’t about me, and it’s wrong of me to think tonight will lead to anything other than a frank discussion around Luca.
Still, my insides dance with elation. If she’s in my space, she’s trusting me—that in itself is a gift, one I will not throw away.
Fighting to keep my emotions in check from breaking through with a smile, I slowly turn to face Candy. She sits on the edge of my bed, pretty as a picture, in a fitted black T-shirt and night shorts. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, lighter with the moonlight filtering in the bedroom window behind her. My eyes trail down her slender, naked legs to her bare feet. Her pink painted toenails taunt me, beckoning me to kiss and suck the little digits into my mouth.
I watch her take all of me in, naked as the day I was born, with my shorts clutched in one fist. Some people would hesitate revealing their nakedness to another for the first time, too embarrassed to bare their body or worried the other person will criticize their flaws. I have no such compunction—I know I look good. Not conceited; just honest.
I may not carry the bulk some of my brothers have, like Atlas, Tank, Reaper, or Brass. But the shredded muscles I have, I’m damn proud of—I work my ass off in the headquarters’ gym each day to achieve this physique. What I got, I want to show off to Candy. I want her to see me in my most natural and vulnerable state, and let her see I’m comfortable being exposed to her.
Perhaps my vulnerability will win me hers.
Candy’s eyes travel the length of me, from top to bottom, and back again. The way her brown eyes dilate to black spheres has my flaccid cock stiffening. She’s affected by me as much as I am by her. There’s something massively reassuring in learning this isn’t one-sided—she wants me like I need her.
Her dainty tongue snakes out of her mouth to trace her bottom lip. I clutch my fists tighter, suppressing a wanton groan. The things I want her to do with that little pink tongue while I’m restrained to the bed… mmm .
Candy’s eyes make their way back to mine, hooded and lust-filled a moment before I see reality fill them, full of concern.
“I heard you went after Luca. Is he…” Candy can’t bring herself to ask, possibly not wanting to get her hopes dashed.
I retrieve the sticky note behind me on the dresser’s mirror and approach her with all the confidence in the world for a naked man. I hold it out for her to see his name has been crossed off.
Her shoulders sag as a heavy sigh leaves her lithe frame. “It’s done.”
“Not yet,” I say, placing the note on the nightstand before looking back at Candy. “It’s not done until all of them are rotting.”
Candy watches me, her face stern. “As much as I want them dead, I didn’t expect how anxious I’d be with you on the hunt.”
Anxious? About me, or Luca’s untimely demise?
If she was worried about me, it’s a game changer.
Curious, I cock my head as I study her. Though my heart picks up speed, I refuse to get overly excited until she reveals more. Knowing better than to push for an answer, I wait silently for her to say more.
“I was sick to my stomach the entire time you were gone.”
“Because you wanted him gone?”
“No. I mean, yes, I wanted him dead. But I was worried about you. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you for going after him, all because I asked you to do it.”
Candy was worried about me, worried sick. A warm burst of joy spiderwebs out from the center of my chest, engulfing my body in ecstasy.
She cares. For me. Fucking me .
More valiant after learning she feels something for me, I drop my shorts from my fist and crouch in front of her. I hold her weary gaze as I say, “It’s okay, sweetness. Look.” I hold my arms out for her to take stock of me. “Not a scratch on me. I’m here, and I’m fine—better now with you here with me.”
Cautiously, Candy reaches out with a shaky hand. She runs her fingers through my short hair and around my ear. My arms drop back to my sides as I close my eyes with a deep groan, relishing her gentle touch. Her hand cups my cheek, warm and soft, like I imagine the rest of her body feels like.
I place my hand over hers, not willing to release her yet. Her touch stirs a possessive urge in me to attach myself to her side and never let her out of my sight.
“You did it,” Candy whispers, awe in her voice. “No one has ever followed through with their promises to me before. Only you.”
I open my eyes to find her watching me with a softness in her expression I’ve never seen before. She’s always so guarded, letting no one close.
Yet here she is with me, sharing her vulnerability with me for the second time in weeks. I’m smart enough to realize she’s given me a piece of herself she rarely hands out. Another gift from the woman I crave.
“I will fulfill every promise I make to you, Goddess.”
“Why do you call me ‘goddess?’”
I can’t help the smirk tugging on my lips. “Because you’re one and deserve to be worshiped as such.”
Candy looks away, her hand falling from my face. “I’m not worthy of such praise.”
“You’re wrong,” I growl back, harsher than I intended. “You’re the only one who is worthy of my adoration. The only one I want.”
Her brown doe eyes fly back to mine, wide with surprise. “You want me?”
My goddess’s stunned face is priceless. I nearly laugh out loud. How can this be a shock to her? “Do I get on my knees for anyone other than you?”
Candy’s mouth falls open. “Why me, Butch? I have nothing—I am nothing. ”
“Don’t talk down on yourself,” I say in as soft a voice as I can muster with my ragged vocal cords. It’s sad she can’t see the good she offers a partner.
“You’re not your mistakes,” I continue, referencing her betrayal to the club.
“I’ve hurt people,” Candy whispers, her bottom lip trembling. She swiftly bites down on it like she’s trying to hide her guilt from surfacing. “I bullied Opal, stirred drama between Jo and Atlas, and I put our entire crew in danger?—”
“And you’re making amends for it,” I interrupt her from spiraling down a dark hole of regret. “You’ve shown remorse and asked for forgiveness from Opal—and she has given it. You were put into an unfair position to start shit with Prez and his woman. Plus, you’re seeking counseling to deal with past trauma, to better yourself and not act out against others when you feel cornered. Give yourself a little credit, Candy. You’re human. You fucked up. We all fuck up in life. It’s how we handle the aftermath that matters.
“You wanna know why you’re it for me? Because you know what it’s like to be thrown aside and still look for the good in this shit world. You still fight for what’s right and wish for more. You came clean with your faults—all of them—when it was never asked of you. You think you’re hard on this club, but you rain down harder on those who fuck with our family. It’s your will to endure, through hellfire and back, I find the most appealing. It shows me you care about more than yourself, and that’s a hell of a lot more than most people give. And I know damn well that would translate to the person who wins your affections.”
My voice is winded by the time I’m done with my little pep talk. My throat will hurt like a sonofabitch tomorrow, but it’s worth it if she takes a word of what I said to heart.
“You have more soul than most, Candy. All you need to do is accept it.”
Big doe eyes stare back at me, shining with fresh tears waiting to spill down her creamy skin. It takes every ounce of my control not to kiss her. I can’t—not yet. Candy is the most exposed I’ve seen her, understandably so. I don’t want to take advantage of her vulnerability or do anything without her full consent.
Instead, I lean in, resting my forehead against hers. It’s enough, sharing the same air as her and absorbing the heat radiating from her satin skin. The little sigh slipping past her lips tells me it’s the right amount of intimacy for her, too.
“Whatever you need, don’t hesitate to ask,” I encourage her. “What is it you want?”
“Right now, or for the future?”
“Both.”
Candy blushes.
Oooh, this should be good.
“Safe space,” I remind her, admiring the red filling her apple cheeks.
As much as I want to know the reason behind her blush, prying won’t do me any favors other than turning Candy off. For Christ’s sake, the woman hid in a closet to have a moment of privacy, and I totally intruded on her—I won’t do it again unless pushed.
If she needs space and time, so be it. If she doesn’t want to share her thoughts with me, I’ll have to respect that, too. Patience is my best friend with winning Candy’s heart. I’ve waited damn near a year to work up the nerve to get this close to her. Waiting a little longer to have her all to myself is time worth sacrificing.
I don’t know how much time passes with us taking in one another, our eyes trailing over every inch of the other’s face.
Finally, Candy breaks the silence with a startling request.
“Hold me, please. I need nothing else right now, other than feeling you next to me.”