Chapter 17 #2
“Your kind is not welcome in South Bay,” Decker says.
“Get the fuck out of my town, tonight, or the next time I got my piece in your face, there’ll be a lot less talking and a whole lot more of your brains splattered on the sidewalk.
” He grips Keegan’s collar and leans closer, their faces inches apart. “Tell me you understand.”
Throat bobbing, Keegan nods.
Decker releases him. “Tell your club their business with Grace is done.” He takes a long, deep breath and then says, “Now leave, or I might change my mind about blowing your fucking head off.”
Keegan springs to his feet and stumbles around the van. Without looking back, he climbs into the driver’s seat and peels out of his parking spot.
Decker takes another one of those breaths, and then, without saying a word, turns on his heel and walks away.
“Hey, wait a minute.” I take off after him at a jog.
He continues on down the road, ignoring me as we pass parked cars, the odd motorcycle, a dim streetlight.
“Decker.”
“Don’t follow me,” he barks out. Another big breath as he quickens his steps.
With a huff, I grab his arm and twist him to face me. “Stop for a second.”
“I can’t be around you right now.”
“Why?” I ask, my heart lodging itself in my throat.
Eyes dark, jaw set, fists clenched. His temper is poking its way to the surface, his anger threatening to bubble over. A man about to lose control. I know all about men like that.
I drift to one side, putting a little distance between us, tightening my hold on my knife.
Decker homes in on the blade. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Grace.”
Maybe I don’t believe him, and maybe that doubt is written on my face, because he sighs, his shoulders caving.
“I’m not my father. I’m not… I’m nothing like the piece of shit who raised you. I may not be a good man, but I will never hurt you. Not like that. I just need to…” He releases a sharp exhale. “You should go.”
“Would you have done it? Would you have…” Would he have finished the job? Taken a life? Would he have killed someone for me?
He’s quiet for a beat, then says, “Yes.”
“Why would you do that?” I ask, words reedy as I holster my knife.
He scrubs his hand down his face. “No fucking idea. I saw a man with his hands on you, and I just felt like killing him. Probably best we don’t read into it.”
I take a step closer, and Decker brushes his fingers over my jaw, drawing attention to a dull throb starting at the edge of my mouth courtesy of the back of Keegan’s hand. He touches my lips, lingering for a moment. When he pulls away, his skin comes back red.
“Oh.” I wipe my hand over my mouth. Blood. Shit.
He angles up my chin and examines my face, touch tender, eyes soft.
Like that first night, when I was in that cell and he was just trying to do the right thing.
His hand finds its way to my throat, and I crane my neck back so I can get a better look at the perfect angles of his face—furrowed brows, his penetrating dark eyes.
I feather my fingers over his jawline, the roughness of the scruff he’s let grow over his chin and cheeks scratching at my skin.
Slowly, I push up on my toes and press my lips to his.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He slides an arm around my waist, his warm hand finding the small of my back, and tugs me closer. Then he takes my mouth hard into his. Another one of those dominating, punishing, demanding kisses, where there’s teeth and biting and forcefulness. All-consuming. Hands wandering, bruising.
I kiss back with the same ferocity, the same need.
Need isn’t the word for it.
With a groan, he breaks the connection, backing up, his chest bouncing, breath ragged, irises full of fire and heat and need.
“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Last night, this morning, that night on the road. They’re all that play in my fucking head.
You are all that plays in my head.” He dips his chin, the desire infused in his tone unmistakable.
“If you don’t want this, then I need you to turn around and walk away.
Right now. Otherwise, I’m gonna fuck you, and I’m not gonna be gentle about it. ”
A well of heat floods between my legs. Seeing him like this—breathing deep, muscles flexed, fraying at the edges—it’s a heady feeling, watching him unravel, knowing it’s me who’s responsible, that he wants it like I want it. And god, I want it.
I need Lincoln Decker to fuck me. And like he said, I need him to not be gentle about it.
“Yes,” I say, voice cracking.
Smashing his lips against mine, he picks me up by my ass.
With a groan, I circle my legs around his waist. His movements are urgent.
Our kiss is a dance of lips and teeth and tongues, our breaths mingling.
I tug at his hair, desperate, as I take as much as I can from him.
As much as he’ll give me. Tasting him, biting him, scratching his neck.
He stumbles, and then my back is pressed against a car.
There’s a quiet click, and then, with me still wrapped around his body, Decker flings open the door to the back seat and practically tosses me inside.
He follows me in, his lips barely leaving mine, and then pulls the door shut and climbs on top of me.
We’re a storm of hands, tugging at fabric.
I rip off his sweatshirt, revealing his perfectly chiseled body, the divots of his muscles, that scar, the tattoo.
As I unbuckle his belt, he cups my tits roughly and tugs up my shirt and bra.
With his pants open, zipper down, hand fishing inside his briefs, I wrap my fingers around his?—
I freeze, and my lungs seize up.
Decker is big. My fingers barely touch like this. And as I move down, it only gets bigger, longer, thicker.
“Something the matter, Gracie?” he asks. I can feel the grin on his lips.
“Um.” I swallow thickly. “You’re very, um…”
“Very what?”
I clear my throat. “Big.”
He chuckles as he yanks up my skirt and tears off my panties. “We’ll make it fit,” he says, spreading my legs wider. Angling his head down, he spits on my pussy and then rubs the head of his cock down my slit, pausing at my entrance. “I don’t have a condom.”
“It’s fine.”
“Not planning on pulling out, Grace. When I’m done, I want to be dripping out of you. Tell me now if that’s a problem.”
“Just stop talking and fuck me.”
With a hand on my throat, he squeezes hard, trapping my words.
I brace myself, one hand on the back of the driver’s seat, the other pressed to the window behind me.
Slowly, he presses inside, a delicious sort of pain mixing with pleasure as he stretches me.
Okay. Decker is really fucking big. I release a sharp exhale, and as he sinks deeper, my muscles tense.
He lets up on my throat and leans down, pressing his lips to my ear, “Easy,” he whispers. “You need to relax. Big breath in for me, Gracie.”
He pulls back, and as he goes, I suck in a gulp of air. Then, as I let it out, he sinks back inside, this time plunging deeper.
“Another one,” he says.
I obey, taking more of him as I breathe out, as I adjust to his size.
“ Fuuuuuck .” He bottoms out and goes still, his face etched in ecstasy. The pain disappears, and all that’s left is this beautiful sort of fullness. Like he’s taken up every inch of space.
We’re frozen a moment. Breathing. His hand at my throat, face buried in the crook of my shoulder.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
He holds me, clings to me. His breath evening out to match mine.
I give myself a moment to touch him. Really touch him, mapping the hills and dips of his body with my fingers.
Noting the strength of his shoulders, the powerful, defined muscles fanning down his sides.
I grab his ass and pull him closer, feeling every inch of him slip deeper.
It’s then that he takes my mouth. The kiss is pure passion. Pure hunger.
Mouth still on mine, he rolls his hips once, then again. The moment of pause, of tenderness, dissipates, and he picks up his pace, getting a lot less gentle , just like he promised.
And god.
The heat of his skin flush with mine, body rocking. Every single one of my nerve endings is on fire, screaming for more, for harder and faster and rougher.
He slams into me, hitting just the right spot, pulling a loud gasp from my lips. “You ready for me to fuck you now?”
I dig my nails into his wrist and push his palm down harder on my throat. “You said you wouldn’t be gentle,” I rasp.
With a chuckle, he gives another hard thrust of his hips, and then another. He gives me no reprieve, his movements punishing, his hand squeezing at my throat as he rails into me.
I cling to his shoulders, grating my nails deep into his skin.
It’s wild and rough. Unrelenting. Savage.
Pressure builds behind my nose and my head swims as he clamps down tighter on my throat. A sweet euphoria takes over, forcing my eyes closed, enticing louder moans, making my body shudder.
This man fucks without control. Without thought. Like an animal staking its claim. All I can do is endure it. There’s no escape. He holds me down, conquering me, filling and fucking and using me.
And in this moment, I’m his to claim, however the hell he wants.
“God, Gracie,” he says, voice rough. “Look how fucking pretty you look taking my cock. So goddamn beautiful.”
His grip on my hip turns bruising, his hold on my throat ironclad and unyielding as a pulse flutters between my legs. He moves faster, grinding against me, and as I move with him, desperate for friction, the ache builds, feeding the growing need inside me to let go.
With another low chuckle, he increases the pressure at my throat. “Fuck, I love seeing you like this. Already so fucking desperate to come. Eyes on me, Gracie. I don’t want to miss a single second.”
As he commanded, I stare up at him, relishing the way he pulls me closer to that edge. I lose myself in the eyes of the man who was ready to make the ultimate sacrifice, commit the most heinous of all the sins, for me.
“Come for me, Gracie,” he growls.
Stars pepper my vision. The tingling in my toes works its way up my legs as I gasp for breath. He only fucks me harder. The sensation builds, my moans guttural, and as a slow and steady pulse thunders through me, my body tenses. Then my release washes over me, and I feel weightless.
“ Ah ,” I choke out.
It keeps coming. Wave after wave. A perfect, beautiful, overpowering rush of pleasure.
With a low moan, he pounds into me, unrelenting.
“Fuck.” He buries his head in the crook of my neck, grip near suffocating, and his body shakes and quivers as he spills inside me.
He releases my throat, and as the tension disappears, my climax eases, and I go limp.
Neither of us speaks, our ragged breaths the only sound filling the car.
It’s what I needed. A distraction. A release. A pair of arms to get lost in. To feel instead of think. To take in air, to breathe, when everything in my life is crushing down on me, suffocating me.
Tonight, Decker was my fucking oxygen.
He weaves his fingers into my hair and pulls back, looking down at me with a hungry look in his eye. No. It’s more than hunger. It’s starvation. Famine. Linc looks at me like he wants to carve himself into my bones. It’s possessive. All-consuming. A brand searing itself into my skin, into my soul.
And god, he can’t be looking at me like that. It doesn’t matter that I’m starting to feel like I want to stay here, keep all this, maybe even keep him. It doesn’t matter that he was ready to kill for me. None of this is permanent. It can’t be. Not with the mess I brought with me.
Cut and run. It’s what I do.
But how the hell do I run from a look like that?
The more time I spend with Linc, regardless of how hot and cold it’s been, how chaotic, the more I think that maybe he’s not the kind of man who’s all that easy to cut out.
I saw it tonight, in the sacrifice he was seconds from making, in the way he was about to lay it all on the line.
He’s not the kind of man who’s easily left behind. And I can’t have that.
I swallow the emotion clogging my throat and let out a big exhale. “Thanks for that, Decker. I really needed to get you out of my system.”
He goes impossibly still, his brows pulling down. “That what I am, Grace? Out of your system?”
“Yes. Aren’t I out of yours?” I wiggle beneath him, trying to free myself.
But he’s unmoving, his body restraining me, his still-hard cock locking me in place, eyes dark and full of an emotion I can’t quite place.
The air shifts, and he hums. “So a rival MC, huh? I get it now. Why you didn’t go to Axe and Jack. You’ve been spending your time with the enemy.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s your point?”
“That’s what you’re scared of, isn’t it? What’ll happen if they find out. Bet you can guess. Axe gets wind of this, and you’re dead.” He breaks into a dark grin. “And that would be a damn shame.”
Unease washes over me, stealing the last of the high I was riding only a minute ago. “You’re throwing out threats with your dick still inside me? Fuck you, Linc.”
With a chuckle, he pushes up. On his knees, still looming over me, he jerks my legs apart and smirks, his focus fixed on my pussy, on the cum dripping out of me.
With a scowl, I clamp my legs shut.
“I wouldn’t stay in this car too long. Cops find you in here, and you won’t like what happens.
The heat in the trunk will get you an easy dime in prison.
” He tucks his dick back into his pants and then tugs on his hoodie.
“And I wouldn’t go trying to take anything else that doesn’t belong to you.
Or your brothers will have another reason to want you dead. ”
I shake my head. “Jesus. What the hell does Axe have on you for you to be running his shit like this?”
He shrugs. “All that matters is that you’re gonna help me get out of it. I’m your brother’s bitch, and now you’re back to being mine.” He opens the door and jumps out, then turns and tosses me a tight smile. “Thanks, Grace. You’ve been thoroughly fucked out of my system.”
He slams the door, and I’m left breathing hard, with Lincoln Decker’s cum running down my thigh.