Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Kierra
Sitting down at my dressing table, I look at my reflection and groan. I have a love/hate relationship with this part of my night. I love getting all the makeup off my face, but I hate how much time it takes. Selling the illusion and fantasy of sex requires a lot of preparation and war paint.
Reaching for the makeup wipes, I start the tedious process, listening to Tempy go on and on about Sparrow.
She’s delusional if she thinks that man is actually going to someday make her his old lady.
I don’t say a word though, having learned my lesson the last time she blew up at me when I tried to talk to her and get her to see reason.
Looking at the clock on the wall, I see that it’s almost two a.m. and dread having to get up in a few short hours to go pick up my nephew, Nash. I love spending time with him, but chasing after a three-year-old when you’re running on only a couple of hours of sleep is not a fun time.
Catching sight of my bruised arm in the mirror has me thinking about Viper and his waffling.
One minute he’s Draven, the sweet man he sometimes shows me, and the next, he’s Viper, the asshole biker.
I love them both, but I swear the man is bipolar, constantly flipping moods like a switch.
I pick up my phone when it starts to vibrate across my dressing table, thankful for the distraction from my thoughts.
Viper: Come by.
Kierra: Can’t tonight.
Viper: I wasn’t asking. Better have your ass in my bed in 30.
Groaning, I finish wiping my face clean and pull my hair into a ponytail. I don’t know what’s up his ass tonight. He’s become more demanding of my time lately, which usually wouldn’t be a problem, but tonight was crazy busy, and I’m exhausted.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tempy asks, looking at me through her mirror as she takes off her makeup.
“Viper. He’s so damn bossy sometimes.”
“He’s the big biker and chief. He’s used to getting to boss everyone around,” she jokes like I don’t know exactly who and what the man is.
“Girl, you better lock that man down and do it soon. He’s the President of an MC.
Women are probably standing in line waiting to get a ride on him.
” Queenie giggles, and the thought of him fucking someone else has begun to bother me all of a sudden.
I know he’s only been with me since we started our thing, but before, it wouldn’t have bothered me if that wasn’t the case since he pays me well for my time. Now though, things seem to be changing.
Most people wouldn’t understand our relationship and would call me a whore for having sex with him for money, but a girl has to eat, and honestly, it was his idea to pay me anyways.
My sister and I grew up dirt poor in Havana and only became US citizens about eight years ago after our mother sent us here to live.
We thought that our mom would eventually come and join us here, but she never did, and we ended up in a foster home.
Which, honestly, was probably for the best. She was a shitty mom, and thankfully I only have to talk to her once a month when she needs money to pay her bills.
She used to go on and on about how she was once the mistress of the great Hector Ramirez.
That didn’t hold any clout when he turned her out for profit once he was finished with her.
It’s probably wrong of me, but when you grow up seeing your mother selling her body for money and then turn around and give it to a man who doesn’t love her.
Well, it makes you see the world differently.
So, I figure if Viper wants to pay me for my time, then that’s his choice to make.
I’d spend time with him even if he didn’t, and he knows that.
He’s sexy as fuck too, which makes our situation even better.
He’s tall, standing at 6’4 and built like a Mack Truck.
He fucks like one too. His dark hair is cut short, and he’s almost always sporting a five o’clock shadow.
It’s his crystal clear, blue eyes that are his best feature though.
He’s an asshole, no denying that, but if you know where to look, you can see the kindness he desperately tries to hide.
He’s also the only man I’ve ever been with, and because of that, he believes he owns me, and if I’m being honest, he kinda does.
He’s twenty years older than I am, but I don’t care.
I can see this being a forever kinda thing if he can get his head out of his ass.
The one and only negative to our arrangement is that I love him, but can he love me back?
Is he capable of loving someone like me?
I don’t think so, but maybe. Sometimes, I see it in his eyes, but he’s quick to push it and usually me away as well.
I would never tell him that though. He’d get all weird and be an even bigger asshole until he felt he had me back in my place.
He has to know how I feel. He just chooses to ignore it. Asshole.
None of that matters though. I don’t think we’ll ever be over because, let’s be honest, I have what he wants.
I’m the one with the bargaining power here.
Ignoring Tempy’s comment, I pull on my sundress, slide on a pair of sandals, grab my bag, and ask Big John to escort me to my car.
Another new stipulation that’s recently been demanded by Viper. That man is so damn confusing!!!
“Have a good night, Vixen,” John states as he taps the roof of my car and watches me pull out of the lot.
Three minutes past the deadline, I pull through the gates that always seem to miraculously open when I approach and follow the winding gravel road until I get to Viper’s house.
Turning off the engine, I sit there in his driveway as I take in a deep breath wondering why he couldn’t have just waited until tomorrow to see me.
He’s gotta know I’m tired. I mean, he doesn’t know I have to keep my nephew in the morning because we don’t do personal information like that, but still.
Deciding not to tempt the beast any more than I already have, I climb out of my car, go up the steps, and raise my hand to knock.
Before I can make contact with the door, it swings open, and a hand is wrapping around my throat, dragging me inside.
“You’re late,” he growls into my ear as my back hits the wall, and he presses his naked body against mine.
His masculine scent fills me up and leaves me empty at the same time.
I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t ache for this, that I didn’t make him wait on purpose knowing he’d be this geared up.
“Yes,” I moan, feeling my panties dampen from his dominance. Shit, I’m going to explode and he’s barely even begun to play with me.
His hands feel rough in their haste to slide my dress up my thighs.
Securing my dress in his fist, Viper cups my mound, giving it a firm squeeze that makes my eyes roll back in my head.
When he feels how soaking wet I am for him, he groans, “Such a dirty girl.” He isn’t wrong. I love it when we play rough.
Viper yanks my dress over my head, tossing it away like it’s the most offensive thing he’s ever touched then drops to his knees. “Don’t fucking move or I’ll spank your ass, Vixen.”
“I won’t,” I pant, trying to stay still as he slides my panties down my legs and tosses them to the side in the opposite direction my dress went.
With hooded eyes and a racing heart, I watch as he lifts my leg over his shoulder, nipping my thigh as a reminder not to disobey him, then leans forward to flick my clit with his tongue before sucking the hard nub into his mouth and biting down gently.
One of his roughened hands presses into my stomach pinning me in place as the other reaches up and tweaks my nipple.
His tongue is pure sin, wickedly evil as it assaults my pussy ruthlessly.
My legs quake as he tortures me with his mouth, a warning in his heated eyes as he glares up at me with a look of desire that should have me running from the room instead of moaning for more.
“Oh God,” I cry out when he pushes two thick fingers inside my pussy, sliding them over my g-spot. Jesus, this man knows my body like it’s his own. He’s always in tune with exactly what I need and exactly when I need it.
“Fuck. Don’t stop.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know I fucked up. He’s pissed that I was late; he’s not going to accept demands from me. We’ve done this dance one too many times when I have shown up late.
“No, no, no,” I sob when he pulls away. Before I know it, my body is turned, and my heated face is pressed flat against the cool, smooth texture of the wall.
“Who’s in charge, baby?” he growls, biting down on my shoulder, no doubt leaving another mark.
“You. Always you,” I say through labored breaths, knowing what comes next and anticipating the high that’s sure to come.
I jolt when the first strike lands across my ass, moaning when the heat sets in just as the other cheek gets the same attention.
“That’s right, Vixen. Always me,” he says before raining his hand down on my ass repeatedly, and I know from the sting that I’ll struggle to sit tomorrow.
“Harder!” I growl when he begins to ease up. I can feel the edges of euphoria starting to creep in, and I know that soon I’ll fly. Fuck, I want that.
“No,” he snarls, stopping abruptly and driving his cock into my weeping core.
The feel of his body brushing my tender ass is enough to throw me over the edge with nothing more than a single thrust but before that can happen, he abruptly pulls out and turns me so we’re face to face and chest to chest. Bending his knees, he grabs my thighs and lifts me.
My back slides up the cold wall. Wrapping my arms around his neck and squeezing him with my legs, I anchor my heels in his ass and pull him closer until we’re once again connected.
“Think you get to be in charge, Vixen?”