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Fury (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 11) by MariaLisa deMora (13)

Fury

Their back and forth argument hadn’t stopped after the calls, but instead had slowly slipped sideways back into the sweet comfort they’d started building before he’d been sent to Chicago with Bella. Bethy exposing a bit more of herself with each exchange, and Fury found every glimpse into her private life enticing. He also found out fast that he’d been wrong about her relationship with Tyrell, the roommate.

For Fury, the specter of her flashback in the car haunted his thoughts, and he was on edge, watching for symptoms that all of this had continued to fuck with her head. He’d tried to find an in but never seemed to hit the right words to make her understand. Not wanting to make her self-conscious, he’d spoken of his time in the military and how it still impacted him at times. He might not have diagnosed PTSD, but like with so many military who’d served in front of, or behind the wire, that hyperalert edge was always within reach, curling closer depending on the setting.

That had been the thing that opened the dam. Ty had a dose of it, a big dose, if what Bethy conveyed was right. Story after story about the man and how he’d learned to deal with the monsters haunting his mind had segued naturally into Fury gently urging Bethy to talk about her own. He sat and listened, but more than that he’d watched her.

When she’d nearly curled into a ball, still talking about Ty while making herself as small as possible in the chair, he’d had all he could stand. His abrupt ejection from the couch startled her, and he watched her eyes get wide when he stalked closer. Pushing his arms underneath her, he’d only begun relaxing when her hands wrapped around his neck, instinctively holding on as he lifted and twisted. Ass in the chair, he’d cradled her in his lap, cupping the back of her head to hold her in place.

He'd waited, expecting an explosion about being manhandled, figuring she’d need to rant at him about how she didn’t want to be touched. He’d waited and then was glad he’d braved her wrath because she jerked in his arms. Not attempting to get away, just trying to swallow the torrent of sobs struggling to force their way up her throat. “Shhhhh.” Speaking softly, lips to the curve of her ear, he soothed her, “I got you, honey. Shhhhh.”

“You saw me.” Not a question, and he didn’t treat it as one, just left it there between them, hoping she’d keep talking. “The day Bella was…kidnapped.” Uttering the word caused a rolling, full-body flinch in her, muscles moving involuntarily to a threat that existed only in her head. Whispering, she said, “You saw me lose it.”

“I saw a strong woman pushed too far.” Tucking her face under his jaw, she shook her head. He knew he had to make her hear him, or she’d never stop pushing him away. “Yeah, Beth, that’s all I saw. A strong woman who’d endured a nightmare. The kind of nightmare that doesn’t end when a sun is rising, doesn’t let you wake safe in your own bed because it was a dream. The kind of nightmare that sticks around, waiting for you to drop your guard so it can sweep the legs out from under you.” Her body hitched and he ran his hands over every inch he could reach, soothing her muscles, feeling them twist and jerk under his fingers. “I saw a strong woman who needed a moment to remember her nightmare was over, and once she did, she climbed back up on her own two feet. You helped get everyone moving, got everyone on the bus without me having to be a shitheel about it.” He stroked her back, liking how she arched into him. “Made it so I could do my job and keep everyone safe, made it so I could concentrate on that important work without having to fight. You did that.” He paused, but she didn’t fill the silence. “You did that, Beth, and that proves just how strong you are.”

Her question, when it came, made every muscle in his body lock up. “Who were you, Fury? Before you met my brother, I mean. Who were you?”

“What do you mean?” Shuffling to cover his lapse, he pushed a brusque tone into his voice. “I’m just a biker. Nothing else.”

“Nothing to see here, kiddies, move along,” she sang the words like a midway barker and he laughed, the sound harsh and hard. “I call bullshit. But fine, keep that secret.” His belly sank, thinking she might have already guessed. “You’re too nice to be just a biker. And it’s weird, how you can be whatever is needed in the moment. Biker one minute, security guy the next, comforting friend when demanded.” She wasn’t far off the mark and he schooled himself against flinching. “So if you won’t tell me who, tell me what? What were you before you met Davy.”

“You already know. I was in the military. Quit school and joined up soon as I turned legal.” Fuck. He hadn’t meant to give her anything, and yet there it was, his mouth moving without regard to keeping the secrets she’d accused him of.

“Do you know Mikey? Um, Watcher?” Her head lifted from his chest and she angled to look up at him, intelligent and somber grey eyes peering at him from under a dark wing of hair. Fuck.

“Not from the military, no.” He didn’t lie. “I’ve met him, yes.” Still not a lie. She seemed satisfied by his answer and rested her cheek on him, cuddling close with a sigh. They stayed in that position for a time, such a long season of quiet that his mind began to wander, going over all the irons in the fire the Rebels had, and where those lined up with the Soldiers. He was on item four on his mental list, talking to Watcher about Spider because the man didn’t ring true for Fury, when Bethy stirred.

“What time is it?” Her voice was quiet, thick in a way that let him know she’d been dozing. Fury liked knowing she felt secure enough to fall asleep in his arms.

He glanced at her phone on the arm of the chair. “Nearly ten.” That surprised him, because no way did it seem as if he’d been here for more than five hours. She’s gotta be hungry. He realized he didn’t know her itinerary post-concert. “When do you fly out?”

“Wow.” She stretched and yawned, then folded herself back against him, clearly unwilling to give up her spot in his lap. At the movement and friction, knowing it was a soft, round, female ass resting on his crotch, his dick started to harden. “That late already? Um, two more days? I had to change my flight out of Midland with everything that’s happened. The band’s already on the road, well you know that, don’t you?” She shifted and it felt deliberate when she put a welcome pressure on his cock. Yawning again, she kept talking. “I’ll follow Chase to Fort Wayne, get to meet my new nephew.”

He expected the reminder of who she was to Mason to be an ice bath on his libido, but no such luck. Her yawning and stretching had her twisting and moving under his hands in all the right ways, and one palm wound up on her ribs so the pads of his fingers cupped the lower curve of a breast. Fuck me.

“You hungry?” If one of them had to get up to call room service, that would be a natural interruption to where he saw this going otherwise. If she didn’t get still or get out of his lap, he’d be hard pressed to hide his arousal for much longer.

She moved, sliding her ass across his thigh so she could lean back and look up at his face. Lips slightly parted, her eyes had gone a dark grey he recognized, and she blinked at him. The tip of her tongue swept her lower lip, leaving a glistening trail behind. Jesus, she’s turned on. “Baby,” the endearment slipped out and he felt her shiver. “You want this?” Blood engorged, his cock was painfully hard, wedged between them, stuck behind a fold of his jeans, and when she nodded, it still gave an eager jerk. “Be sure, Bethany.”

“I’m sure,” she whispered.

“Be real sure, baby,” he whispered back.

She blinked again and hesitated, and for a moment he thought she would throw the brakes on. Then, she turned the tables on him in a way he didn’t expect. “I don’t usually do casual sex. But I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into the office.” He pulled in a breath, slipping his hand up her side, holding her waist tight. “You walked in and my first thought was ‘why are all the handsome ones in out of the way places’ because I thought you were a promoter from the area. Then you smiled, and I contemplated what it would take to move to Lamesa.” Staring into her eyes, he saw them get bright, crinkling at the corners with a suppressed smile. “Then I found out you were with my brother, and I took a mental marker to your name, crossing you off any potential partner list.” He tipped his head to the side, and she did smile at that, the edges of her mouth curving upwards. “What I’m saying, in my blunt and sidelong way, is I’ve given this significant consideration, Fury. So yeah, I’m sure.”

And there it was, the Bethany he remembered. Laying it out there in real talk, making certain he couldn’t mistake her interest. “You might be the bravest woman I’ve ever known.” She was laughing softly as she shook her head. “Yeah, baby. Putting it out there like that, ready to take a hit if I shut you down? Brave as fuck.”

“How about you? Are you sure?” Not quite a dare, still the edge of a challenge was in her voice, goading him to say what she wanted to hear.

Guided by his thousands of dreams, assisted by the times he’d run the movies of their lovemaking through his head, he lifted a hand to her face, tracing across her lips with his fingertips. He glided them up and across the bridge of her nose, between her eyes to bury his hand in her hair, stroking out and down, slowly. Arranging locks of her hair on her shoulder, he flattened his palm on her chest, tracking a line down her sternum until he could cup her breast in his palm. Lifting and squeezing with his fingers, he grazed the pad of his thumb across her nipple, feeling it harden through her clothing as she gasped.

Gaze back to her face, he took in her features. Sharp desire burned in her eyes. The expression on her face was pure, exposed need. “Yeah, baby.” Bending close, he brushed his lips across her mouth and along the edge of her jaw, pausing when he neared her ear. “I’m sure. I wanna fuck you. Have since I walked in that room and saw your face turned my way. Unexpected beauty. Then I got to watch you over the past few days, here and there, always takin’ care of others. That’s an unforeseen boon, baby. I wanna see how you take care of me, but more—” He paused, sucking her earlobe into his mouth and toying with it for a moment, then pressed his mouth to her throat. “I wanna take care of you.” He kissed her throat again. “You gonna let me do that?”

“Yes.” Her response was breathy and immediate. She’d gone rigid in his lap, holding herself still as he spoke. “I want that.”

He shifted and found her mouth with his, not having to fight for entry because she opened for him right away, as eager for it as he was. Tongue sweeping against hers, the slick glide a promise of what was to come, he took his time, exploring and reacquainting himself with her secrets. Head angled, she gave back as good as she got and in moments, the kiss was blazing through him. He stood with her in his arms, never breaking that connection, her hands on either side of his face, her hold fierce. Down the short hall and through the door to the bedroom of the suite, he saw the covers were smooth and flat, unmarred. Wedging her against him, he reached with one hand and flipped them back, exposing the sheets.

Laying her across the mattress, he followed her down, chasing that mouth, needing more of her taste, of the feel of her under his lips. He trailed a palm up the inside of her thigh, pushing to spread her before wedging a leg between hers, his hand continuing up her belly to her breast. Frustrated by the clothing between them, he flicked the buttons open on her shirt, fingertips tracing the swell of flesh along the lacy edge of her bra. She moaned into his mouth and arched up when he shoved his hand into her bra, lifting her breast over the edge. He framed it with the fabric and moved fast, bending deep and latching on. Her fingers landed in his hair when he sucked hard, fingertips and thumb gripping and lifting, his movement unceasing as he fed her into his mouth. Her breathy mutter barely stirred the air, “Jesus, Fury.” She clenched and his scalp stung as he shifted so he could angle his eyes up, looking at her. Open mouthed, she stared at him as he worked her over, breathing hard and moaning again when he bit down lightly. Every reaction was honest, an echo of their lovemaking from twelve years ago. Releasing her slowly, he bathed every inch with his tongue, lapping and nipping at her flesh, pulling her nipple between his lips and bearing down until she moaned again.

Lifting up on his arms, he stared down at her flushed face. “Goddamned beautiful, baby.” Pushing away from her, he unfastened her pants, tugging them down her legs, taking her panties with them. She was already working on her shirt and bra, so he took the opportunity to remove his vest, folding and placing it on the dresser before stripping bare. Laying one wrapper on the bed at her hip, he tossed a spare condom to the nightstand, watching how her eyes tracked it before returning to him, a smile on her face.

Covering her, he kissed her hard, biting at her lips in a way he knew would leave them puffy and red, then made his way down her body. Pushing underneath her legs with his shoulders, he positioned her like he wanted and buried his face in the joint where her leg met her body, breathing deep and finding everything he wanted. Sweet scent, soft flesh, and willing woman.

Starting there, he licked his way across to the other side, flicking and dipping into her opening, finding her wet and ready. She didn’t need him to prime her. Coulda just fucked her, he thought with a grin. She’s hot for it. Flattening his tongue, he licked up her center, pressing hard on her clit. Still, wouldn’t give up a chance to have my favorite meal. He teased her, flicking and circling the nub of responsive flesh with the tip of his tongue until she cried out, shoulders rising from the mattress as she clutched the back of his head, holding him to her.

Tearing free from her grip, he lunged up her body and kissed her deep, tongues dueling as she eagerly took what he gave. Tiny whimpers fell from her lips when his hand found her center, spreading her before spearing her with his middle finger. Pumping deep, curling and coaxing her with each stroke, he shoved his other hand underneath her shoulders and up, threading his fingers into her hair and gripping hard, holding her in place while he kissed her.

He jerked reflexively when her fingers curved around his upper thigh, trailing across to his cock, slipping in the fluid leaking out of the tip. She slicked up her hand and stroked him, then explored down, cupping and tugging his sac, pulling a shout out of him when she broke the kiss, pushing up to put her mouth on his shoulder and bit down.

“Move your hand, baby,” he warned her as he opened and rolled the condom on, moving sideways between her legs, loving how they fell apart, letting him slot into place. Cradled with her limbs, he pushed against her, feeling her outer lips part for him, gliding up along his cock, wetting him. She’d moved her hand to his hip and now pulled, tugging in a clear demand.

Mouth to her neck, he set his teeth in the muscle there and bit, sucking hard as he lined up and pushed. She arched up and made a sound that made him slow, pausing to work his cock in and out those first couple of inches, letting her get used to him. Stretching around him, so fucking tight he groaned, mouthing her neck. “You good, baby?” He got a muffled response and lifted so he could see her face, shoving his forearms into the mattress on either side of her head. “You good, baby?” he asked again, keeping the same rhythm of shallow thrusts.

“You’re big.” She breathed the words and wiggled her ass, pumping up against him, forcing another inch inside.

“You’re tight,” he responded and she grinned. “Not complainin’, baby. Feels fuckin’ great.”

“Backatcha,” she whispered and wiggled again. “I’m good.”

He worked his way inside her slowly, advancing in small increments, having to pause the action for a moment here or there in order to hold his control. Staying in that position, he examined her face as she took him, seeing the tiny frowns when the stretch would burn, watching as they smoothed out and she’d nod, indicating she was ready for more.

Gave this up, he thought when he was seated fully inside her. Gave it up once. He moved, and she shifted with him, their rhythms naturally in sync. Can’t give it up again. Arching up against him, she dragged her full breasts across his chest. Teasing and nipping, she ran a hand up his neck to grip his hair, pulling his mouth down to meet hers. Won’t give her up.

Sweaty and slippery, he moved over her and in her, bringing her along with him as he followed the thread of true desire he’d only found in her bed. Over the past decade, every time he’d lain with a woman, the only way he could get off with any satisfaction had been to think about Bethy. Now that she was the woman under him, he found his dreams had fallen far short of reality. She was so much more, so good, so sleek, so wet and tight, vocal in a way he liked, her whimpers and moans floating on the air around them, feeding into this goddamned feeling of making his woman feel good with his hands, his mouth, and his cock.

When she broke, he raised his head, gaze fixed on her expressive face, and she didn’t try to hide from him. Mouth open, calling out, she didn’t hide anything, gave him everything, let him know how what he gave her was good, let him have the knowledge of how she liked it. He shifted gears then, driving in harder, knowing she would take it for him, take him however he gave it to her.

Hands under her ass, he lifted to his knees, bringing her up to meet his thrusts, fingers tight around her hips as he pulled her onto him. Her breasts shifted on her chest and she didn’t try to control anything, she lifted her arms over her head, palms flattened against the headboard as she pushed back, taking him deeper, exposing everything to him and it was that trust that finally took him over the edge. Knowing she’d given him that, was giving him that, took him there. Collapsing on top of her, he shoved a hand under her back, curving around to put a hand at her hip, holding her in place as he clutched the pillow with his other hand, burying his face in her neck and shoulder, grunting through his release.

***

Fury looked at his phone in disbelief. Not even twelve hours ago, he had received a group text with a picture attached that made him smile, even as his throat tightened with an ache. Our brother’s bundle … Faith Inez. That brief message of joy, with an image of radiant mother and infant daughter, framed in the smiling father’s arms. Now a new message to the same broad group, but with an entirely different tone. Similar to a dispatch received only four months ago, it consisted of few words, crafted to convey the loss. Hoss’ old lady passed.

Beautiful Hope.

Golden hair, a laugh that could light up the room, filled with stubborn and love in equal measures. He had seen devotion on her face towards her old man and her kid, a singular focus that only made her more beautiful.

Gone.

Fuck.

Chest tight, he thought about the times he had seen her over the past year and a half, from the first vision of her beauty and poise in Marie’s, to the last time, watching her walk from Hoss’ arms towards her car in the clubhouse lot. She had turned to wave at her man, fingers pressed against her full lips to toss him a playful kiss, belly rounded with a child who would now be motherless.

He jerked, so lost in his thoughts he startled when a hand settled on his shoulder. He tossed the phone to the floor beside his jeans, and lying back in bed, twisted to look in her face, seeing the question there. “Death in the family,” he offered quietly, not wanting to explain more. She took what he gave, nestling her face into his neck, fingers playing idly with his beard as Bethy whispered, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He reached down, lifting her chin to see her face. Has she guessed yet? Got it all figured out? It would almost be worth telling her, just to end the uncertainty. Dipping to press his lips to hers, he told himself he’d tell her tomorrow. Lay it all out there, let her know the truth about the three men she knew, and how they were all him.

Her hand slipped down, flat along his belly, fingers playing with the hair along his midline until his belly was jerking underneath her touch and he felt her lips curving as she smiled against his mouth. Then her hand was on him, fingers folded around his cock, thumb slicking through the fluid eagerly dripping from the slit. He kissed her hard, cupping the back of her skull to hold her in place, tongue thrusting deep in her mouth while she jacked him steadily.

“Jesus, baby,” he muttered when she ripped her mouth away for a breath, hand moving faster on him now. “You wanna ride me?” Her face lifted to his again and he saw her eyes go wide, pupils dilating. He flung off the sheet, urging her to straddle him, hands on her hips lifting her into place. “Fuck me, honey.”

He liked that he could see her face as she slid him into her this time. Liked seeing the tiny indents her teeth made in her bottom lip, watched with reverent attention as her lids slipped to half-mast, from the edges of his vision caught the way her belly sucked concave when she ground deep, bottoming him out inside her. She paused there, sleek heat all around him clenching and pulsing. Then after blowing out a slow breath, she placed her palms flat on his chest and lifted, careful not to lose the knob of his dick as she rose over him. The flare of her eyes warned him, and he was ready when she dropped on him, slapping her ass against his thighs in a rush to bury him inside her again. The concussion of the hit throbbed deep inside him, and he tightened his muscles, jerking his cock against the inner walls of her pussy.

“Mmhm. Yeah, fuck me. Just like that.”

She shivered at his words, a movement he saw and then felt as she quivered and tightened around him. Then she lifted slowly before dropping again. Another pumping hit followed by a grind that pulled his cock in all the right ways, dragging it down and up again. Hot, slick fluids made by both of them gave the motion a slippery sound, and he listened as the wet slapping echoed in the room. “Fuck me, baby.”

He let her ride him at her pace, getting off on her gasping moans every time she took his cock deep. Her fingers curled, nails scoring bright stripes on his chest and still she lifted and fell, rocking in a steady rhythm that made his ass clench with the need to drive up into her.

“Baby,” she whispered, and he felt it, saw her nipples tighten and peak on her breasts as they swayed with her movements. Lunging up, he captured one in his mouth, his hand pressing between her shoulders, arching her back. Pulling deep, he tongued the hard nipple fast, lashing it as he bit down gently but firmly. His other hand slipped between them, finding and pinching her clit, rubbing tight circles.

“Fury,” she called, and that word nearly stopped the show because that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Then she was coming and all words were lost, only primal, babbling sounds that flowed from her mouth as he whipped her to her back and drove deep. She was coming down, movements less urgent underneath him as he felt the first curling threads of his own climax. She wrapped one leg around his hip, and he reached down, wedging his arm behind her knee, holding her leg up and out, keeping her open for him. Deep and fast, he pumped, thrusting faster, her hands slipping up his back to curve around his shoulders. “Baby,” she called, and he felt her pussy quiver.

“Fuck, yeah,” he grunted, then ordered, “gimme your mouth.” She twisted, and he kissed her hard, panting breaths mingling in their open mouths while she orgasmed again. He plunged deep, holding there, feeling heat pooling around the head of his dick inside her. Lifting up, he locked his elbows, staring down at her before dropping his head to place a kiss at the base of her throat, licking the salt from his lips as he rose up again.

“You wanna shower?” There were few things he’d like to do more than lay beside her in bed, something he’d done several times as Derek. They’d talked, and she would cuddle close, the sweat on their bodies drying against the sheets. Fury hated he felt this need to make things different now, because if she hadn’t figured it out and didn’t know who he really was, he wanted to draw different figures in her head. Build good associations with him here, now. He moved, pulling out and rolling towards the edge of the bed, ignoring the grumbling noises she made at the motion. “I’ll shower first, then.”

He brought out a washcloth, wet with warm water from his heating shower, washing first her face, and then her breasts before cleaning between her legs. By the time he got back from his shower she was fast asleep, dark hair tamed into a twist under her neck. Climbing carefully into bed behind her, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him, smiling at her groaning sigh until it ended on a name that froze him in place. “Derek.”

***

Bethany

Bethy sat on the edge of the unmade bed, covers still rumpled from the activities of the night before. Phone in hand, she was locked in place, staring at the messages glaring up at her from the screen. Several were from her brother, and several, including the one that held her attention in a brutal way, were from Fury.

“How could I be so stupid,” she muttered, one hand raking through her hair, pulling hard against the snarls her fingers found there, wincing at the pain as her scalp was tugged. “Naïve isn’t pretty at my age. Stupid me. Stupidly thinking stupid things I had no business thinking.”

Mason’s communications were, as ever, terse and concise.

Nashville.

That would be his command for her to head home.

Promo OY tour.

She had already intended to continue to promote Occupy Yourself’s tour, using the media attention from the rodeo performance as a springboard, but evidently, Mason didn’t think she was moving fast enough.

He ain’t no good for you.

With Mason as a brother, and now having an idea of the pull and power he had, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he would be capable of finding out she had spent the night with one of his men. It shouldn’t have been, but it was, and her cheeks flamed at the thought of her brother knowing what they had done…what she had done in bed with Fury.

Love you, Bethy.

Regardless of anything happening around them, Mason always—always—ended every communication, written or spoken, with those words. He had told her once that life was too short to make people wonder if they mattered, and he always made certain she knew just how much. This, all of this, made her both irritated as hell at Mason and filled her with gladness he was her brother.

Brother. Blood of my blood. Something that meant more than outsiders knew, back in the holler.

Protector. Each time I’ve reached out in need, he’s been there. He’d bent luck more times than she could remember, making certain she had what would make life better. If he knew about Michael... She thrust that thought away.

Friend. She smiled. Over the years they’d moved from being strictly siblings who worked around birth order to a solid relationship, one that she cherished.

Family. Back to blood, she thought. More though, because he was family she claimed. Unlike some of them.

Mason was all of that and more. Raised the way they were in eastern Kentucky, bonding together was the only way to survive. With only four years between them, they had been each other’s sounding board for plans and dreams, so she knew what Mason wanted to build, the family he had begun gathering almost as soon as he left the legacy of mountain and holler. He loved her, she knew it, and he made sure she knew it. He also tried to keep her safe and made sure she knew that, too.

Fury’s messages were no less short, just as concise, but they left a chill in her chest that didn’t feel as if it would ever work its way out.

Was fun.

Yes, what they had done could undoubtedly be called fun, even the bits where they were arguing. Total fun.

Recalled to Chicago.

She suspected this meant he was no longer in town, which surprised her because they had made plans for tonight. And tomorrow morning. And tomorrow night. Plans that she had been looking forward to in a big way.

Then came the final message, three words to underline the good time part of their contact.

See you around.

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