Eight years ago…
A zap of electricity shot through me when the blonde beauty behind the bar turned her head my way. How the hell was this chick planning to keep the peace at the Blue Fox Tavern?
As long as we all behaved, the bar allowed everyone to wear their MC’s colors. But it was still a biker bar. If things got out of hand, I didn’t have much confidence the little cutie would be able to do much. Girl was gonna get hurt.
Once I got over the shock of seeing the new bartender, I slipped my don’t-give-a-fuck face back on. My brothers, Rock and Zero, were right behind me. Brothers by choice. As in we belonged to the same MC. But to me, the bond we shared flowed deeper than any blood relation.
The three of us sat at the bar. The sweet, bubbly demeanor the girl approached us with was completely out of place in the seedy hangout. The way her eyes roamed over us, assessing the level of danger we posed, made me rethink my first impression.
“Hey, guys. What can I get you?”
Her gaze skipped to our cuts and zeroed in on each of our patches. She looked me over last, and holy fuck, when our eyes met, my dick perked right up. For just a second, the hard, calculating gleam in her eyes softened into something vulnerable.
The moment passed, and she swung her gaze back to Rock, whose patch read President.
“Scotch neat, please, sweetheart,” he answered. His eyes were busy assessing her as well, but I didn’t get the feeling he wanted to take her in the back room and fuck her like he did with just about every other chick he met.
As the vice president, she took Z’s order next. Finally, she returned to me.
“Sergeant-at-arms, huh? The Wrecking Ball.”
A slow grin spread across my face. I liked her. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m sure you have. What would you like?”
I wanted her, spread out on the bar in front of me. “Jack Daniels, neat,” I answered.
The three of us were silent while we watched her work. Slapping the drinks down with a tired smile, she glanced at the clock. She turned back to us and cocked her head, checking out our officer patches again.
“You have a shakeup in leadership? Your patches are so squeaky clean,” she teased in a husky voice.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Rock asked.
A short, excessively curvy brunette jiggled into the space behind the bar and yelped, “Trinity! I’m so sorry I’m late!”
The loud chick had herself stuffed into some sort of hot-pink tube top thing that didn’t flatter her as much as she probably thought.
“It’s okay, Storm,” the blonde answered, even though her expression said otherwise.
Storm? Aw, fuck.
As if she heard my thought, Storm turned her big, brown, doe-eyed gaze our way and shrieked.
“Oh, Trinity! These are the guys I was telling you about.” She yanked the blonde over to us by the elbow. Her hungry gaze zeroed in on Z right away, which was unfortunate for her because he was strictly hit-it-and-quit-it.
The few times we’d met her, Rock and I had picked up a definite undercurrent of desperation with this broad. Even though we let her party at our clubhouse, we’d both been smart enough to steer clear of her bear-trap pussy.
Trinity seemed less than impressed. I wondered what sort of stories Storm had been spinning about us.
“Can I stop by after work, guys?” Storm asked.
Rock answered quick. “No. There’ll be a full house tomorrow. Stop by then, hon.”
Her face fell, then brightened at the invitation. I glanced down the bar at Z, who looked ready to choke our prez. I couldn’t wait to give him shit later.
I finished my drink and got up to take a walk around the place. Rock’s meeting was with a crew we hadn’t established a lot of trust with yet. My job was to check things out before they got here. Keep the place secure. Make sure nothing happened to my president.
Back corner booth. That was where the meeting needed to go down. As I pulled a chair over, a breathy voice behind me called out, “Hold on. I haven’t cleaned that yet.”
Trinity rushed over with a rag and wiped the most recent stickiness from the tabletop. I’m only human, so while she was busy cleaning, I checked out her pleasantly round ass. My fingers flexed as I imagined how perfectly her cheeks would fit my hands. For a biker chick, she was awfully conservative. I spotted what looked like two tank tops. Black on top, bright pink underneath. No thong or tramp stamp peeking out when she bent over—I think I liked that part most.
She finished and spun around. Too bad my eyes were slow to react. She definitely caught me checking out her ass. I wasn’t ashamed, though, because shame’s never been an emotion I wasted my time on. Besides, now my gaze was fixed on something even more exciting—her tits all pushed up and spilling out of her shirt.
It was difficult, but I looked up into her honey-colored eyes. How had I missed that color before? Or was it just the strange amber lighting we were standing under in the otherwise dark corner? “Is Trinity a road name or your legal one?”
“Real. My mother had me during her Catholic phase.”
I snorted a laugh. “How’s that working out for you?”
“Well, I’m tending bar at a biker hangout, so what do you think?”
“I think things worked out well. For me, anyway.”
Yeah, that one was lame. But it got a genuine smile out of her, which had been my goal.
“So, Wrecking Ball, I don’t know your name.”
“Wrath.”
She fake-shivered and made a brrrr sound with her sexy-as-fuck lips. “Scary. Are you an angry fellow?”
Man, I liked this girl. She didn’t say a lot, but when she spoke, she was a flirty little bitch. She clearly put up walls to keep guys like me at arm’s length, and that made me want her even more.
“Not tonight. You got an ol’ man?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Fuck no.” Then she looked me straight in the eyes, practically daring me. “And I’m not looking for one either.”
Wrath. His name should have been lust, because that was the deadly sin burning through me when I looked up—way up—into his ocean-blue eyes. I should’ve gotten the fuck out of there. My shift was up. Storm finally had her annoying ass slinging drinks. But curiosity chained me to the bar.
I should’ve despised bikers. I should’ve most definitely steered clear of this one, with his thick, muscled arms and low, sensual voice.
My normally impeccable self-preservation instinct seemed to be on the fritz.
“Well, that’s good to hear. I’m not looking for an ol’ lady.”
“I’m not looking for a hookup either. If you don’t mind, my shift is over.”
Actually, I wouldn’t mind a hook-up with all three of them. Maybe not the president; there was something about him that triggered a warm, brotherly memory. Which was weird because I was an only child. But the other two, yeah, I would definitely be down to—
“Trinity!” Storm yelped from behind the bar.
“Christ.”
I forgot about the Wrecking Ball and stomped over to the bar.
“What?”
“I cut my hand, really bad.”
As I rounded the corner, her bloody hand came into view, and I swallowed back a tidal wave of barf.
“Ew, fuck!” I whipped around and headed for the back office. “I’ll go get Marky. He should probably run you to the ER.”
Marky took Storm to the hospital, and I got stuck behind the bar for the rest of the night. Wrath and his friends met with an even scarier group of thugs. But they didn’t cause any trouble and they ignored me, so I didn’t care.
“Trinity?”
I looked up to find the president staring at me.
“Have you heard from Storm? She okay?”
I shook my head. It was unlikely I’d hear from Storm or Marky. “Nothing yet.”
He nodded once and tipped his head to the side. “You hang with any local MCs?”
He was asking if I was club ass for one of his rivals. Surprisingly, I wasn’t offended. “No.”
“Oh, you just seemed familiar—”
“My dad was in the Silver Saints when I was a kid.”
Sympathy shone in his gray eyes. Clearly, he knew their rep. Fuck, why did I even tell him that? I usually kept that shit to myself.
“He still in?”
“He’s dead.”
He quirked an eyebrow at me as if he wanted me to continue, and for some strange reason, I did.
“He died in prison when I was ten.”
“Club take care of you and your mother?”
A shiver of revulsion rippled over me, and I closed my eyes for a second. Yeah, they’d taken care of us all right.
“Not really.”
He nodded as if he wasn’t surprised.
His VP called to him. He quickly scribbled on one of the napkins. “Here’s the address and number for our clubhouse. We’re working on moving into a bigger place, but this is it for now. Stop by tomorrow night if you want. At the door, tell them Rock invited you.”
“How many patched-in brothers you got, Rock?”
“Ten right now.”
“Small.”
“Yeah. Like you said—had a shakeup in leadership. Later, Trinity.”
I watched him walk away. Like fuck was I going to any club party. I didn’t care how “hot” or “nice” they were—according to Storm.
I looked at the address. Right next door to a strip club. Big surprise there.
“You closing soon?” The Wrecking Ball was back.
“Yeah, thank fuck. My feet are killing me.”
He threw back his head and laughed, a deep, sexy, rumbling chuckle. Curling his hands over the side of the bar, he swung his upper body over to check out my shoes. “At least you’re wearing sneakers and not fuck-me pumps like Storm. Can I buy you a drink, Trinity?” he asked in a much more serious tone.
“I don’t drink on the job.”
He gave me a curt nod, and I took the trash into the back room. Marky could deal with it later. I wasn’t stepping foot in that alley by myself.
I’d waited an hour for Trinity to disappear long enough for me to hustle her straggling customers out the door. The three of us agreed we’d stay until closing since Trinity was all by herself. But the poor girl looked ready to drop, so the bar was closing early.
“Oh, did everyone leave?” Her soft voice pulled me away from my staring contest with a bottle of Jack Daniels. I pushed it away.
“Yup.”
“Even your guys?”
That bugged me for some reason. I’d seen her chatting with Rock earlier. “Yeah, why?”
She shrugged as if she’d only asked to be polite and didn’t really care one way or another.
“Anything else you need to do?”
“No, fuck it, I already worked way over my shift.”
I chuckled at that. She punched her time card and stood there watching me.
“Do you leave by the back door or something?”
She laughed. “No, nothing but a dark, dirty, scary alleyway.”
“Can I give you a lift home?”
Her gaze drifted to mine and a mischievous little gleam shone in her eyes. “Do you have your bike?”
“Of course.” What a ridiculous question.
“Sure, you can give me a ride.”
On the surface, her words were innocent, but she made them sound dirty. Or maybe it was my dick’s wishful thinking.
My baby was parked right outside. Trinity studied it for a minute before looking up at me. “Do you have an extra helmet?”
“Actually, I do.” I liked to be prepared when picking up chicks.
I dug it out and handed it over. She fiddled with it for a minute, then strapped it on like a pro.
The night was chilly, and I wished I had something to offer that would cover her better than the skinny little straps of her tank tops. “You’re going to be cold. I’m sorry. I don’t have a sweatshirt or something with me.”
“I’ll be okay.”
She got on behind me like she’d done it a million times.
“Have you been on a bike before?”
A soft chuckle and her warm breath swept over the side of my neck. “Yeah, I’ve ridden.”
I started her up, twisted the throttle a few times, and took off. After a few blocks, Trinity’s hands moved from my hips to my front as she wrapped her arms around me. The distinctive movement of her hand inching toward my cock distracted me for a moment. What the hell was she up to?
When I finally stopped at a red light, I turned my head to shout, “Where are we going?”
“751 Mason Street.”
Mason Street. Why did that sound familiar? “That’s three doors down from the bar!”
“I know. I wanted a ride.”
I shook my head and took the long way back to Mason Street. Maybe she wasn’t as indifferent to my charms as she seemed.
Surprisingly, the spot I vacated was still open, so I slid in there. She handed me the helmet and ran her hands through her hair a few times. I don’t think she did it on purpose, but she looked damn sexy. I still straddled my bike because she hadn’t invited me in yet.
“Aren’t you going to walk me home?”
Hell. Yeah.
I scanned the quiet street, searching for 751. It really was almost right next to the bar.
It was also a shithole.
“That’s convenient,” I said, nodding at the Blue Fox.
“Happy accident.”
She had her keys in her hand, and we stood there staring at each other. She seemed to be trying to come to a decision. I’m a patient guy. I could wait.
“Do you want to come in? I can make you a biker’s poison.”
I tried really hard not to get all cocky about the invite. “What’s that?” I asked, reaching out to tuck a few strands of wild hair behind her ear. Her eyelids fluttered at my touch. I was getting to her. The urge to do some sort of touchdown dance hit me.
“It’s Jack and rum. Shake it and shoot it.”
My lip curled in disgust. “Gross. Why ruin Jack like that?”
“I knew it. Knew you were a whiskey snob.”
She was actually teasing me and joking around. I wanted to kiss her.
“Come on. I’ll find something else for you.”
If the outside of the building looked bad, inside was a fucking nightmare. This coming from a guy who hung out in a clubhouse with nine other male pigs. Rickety stairs led up to an even more questionable landing.
She opened the first door.
Inside wasn’t so bad. It was tiny but clean. What little she had was organized and pretty.
“Do you want a beer?”
“Sure.”
My big shit-kicking boots felt strange in her tiny little apartment. But toeing them off might give her the wrong impression. I threw myself onto her couch and sank down so fast, I wondered if I’d ever get out of it.
She returned and handed me a bottle of beer.
“Thanks. I think you’re done serving for the night now.”
A small smile played over her lips. After a beat or two, she tucked herself onto the couch. Not really next to me, but not so far away I couldn’t reach out and run my finger down her arm.
“So, Wrath, what do you do besides the sergeant-at-arms stuff?” She flicked her hand in the air like the topic bored her.
Huh. She was the first chick who hadn’t wanted to sit and discuss the MC for hours on end.
“I fight.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “So predictable.”
“No really. Mixed martial arts style.”
“Are you any good?”
“I’m undefeated.”
“Doesn’t the MC take a lot of time away from your training?”
I considered her question carefully before answering. Yes. Actually, the last two years had been nothing but battle after battle within our club. I’d had little time to focus on training or fighting. I hadn’t needed anywhere else to redirect my rage either.
“Yeah, sometimes.”
“If you’re undefeated, shouldn’t I have heard about you?”
“MMA isn’t legal in New York. These are underground fights.”
“So what else do you do?”
Fuck chicks, ride my bike, knock people out.
“Saving to get my own gym.”
Suddenly, she was right next to me. Her hand brushed over my cheek.
“What do you like to do, Trinity?”
“Read.”
“That’s not very exciting.”
“Trust me, I’ve had enough excitement in my life.” Her voice came out more pained than teasing. It held that vulnerability I glimpsed at the bar.
I turned to face her, cupped her cheek, and ran my thumb over her soft skin. She pushed forward and tentatively pressed her lips to mine. I reached behind me to set the beer on the end table, then placed my hand on the other side of her face.
She yelped and bolted backward. “Cold hand!”
“Sorry.”
Unruffled, she swooped in and kissed me again. Her hand dropped to my lap and she gave my cock a quick squeeze. Fuck. She had me so hard I didn’t think I’d be able to get out of my jeans with a hacksaw. She rubbed harder, pressing her palm into me.
“Trin—”
I slid down a little to relieve the pressure, and she took it as an invitation to work my pants open, running her hands up and down my cock. Still no words from her, though. Just kept looking at me with those fuck-me eyes. Suddenly, she dropped down on her belly, stretching her legs out behind her on the couch, and closed her mouth around my cock.
I hissed out a breath. Fuck, that felt good.
She angled and arranged herself over my lap, licking, sucking, exploring. Christ, it was amazing.
“Babe, wouldn’t that be easier on your knees?” I pointed to the floor.
She released my cock with a soft pop and tilted her head toward me, her lips shiny and red.
“I don’t get on my knees for anyone. Ever.”
Shit. Why can't I ever keep my big mouth shut?
“Okay.” I reached out and stroked her hair. My cock really wanted back in her mouth.
Her hand kept lazily working up and down my shaft. Finally, she bent over and took me in her mouth again.
Sweet motherfucking heaven. I couldn’t help thrusting up, and she didn’t seem to mind. She made happy little humming noises that vibrated up and down my dick.
“Trinity, honey. I’m close. Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Stop now if you don’t want me shooting in your mouth, babe.”
Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop.
She paused, and for an awful second, I thought she was going to stop. I froze, waiting, but then she took me deeper, trailing her tongue along the underside of my cock where she apparently realized I was extra sensitive.
My fist curled in her hair. I really wanted to see her fucking eyes but couldn’t from this position. Then she took me all the way to the back of her throat. All thought left. White lightning gathered in my sac, streaking up until I came with painful intensity. Trinity didn’t stop. She sucked and swallowed while keeping her plush lips wrapped around my cock.
“Ah, fuck! Trin. Shit.”
She kept licking and kissing. Finally, she stopped and looked up with a soft smile.
I cupped my hand behind her neck and pulled her to me. “Thank you.”
I tried kissing her, but she wriggled away. “Guys don’t like to after doing that.”
Huh?
She sat up and reached over to take a sip of my beer. Christ, my spent cock jumped when she put the bottle to her lips. She set the bottle down and crawled into my lap. With one hand at the back of her head and one above her ass, I pressed her against me and took her mouth hard. Forcing my tongue in her mouth, I explored every inch. I wasn’t nearly done with this little angel. No fucking way. I slid my hands down to cup her ass. Just as I’d suspected, my palms curved perfectly around each cheek. Holding her tight, I powered off the couch. She held on and let out a little squeal.
“Bedroom?”
She giggled and jerked her head in the only possible direction the bedroom could be. Yeah, she’d sucked my brain out through my cock.
I shuffled us in there, even with my pants falling down.
The fuck?
A pink, frilly twin bed and some cheap furniture were all she had in here. I set her down gently, and she scooted up onto the mattress.
I took a moment to zip up, but left everything else undone because I planned to fuck her as soon as possible.
“Get those pants off, babe.”
She stood and tried to push past me. I held her with one arm. Tilting her head up, I searched her eyes. “That wasn’t enough, Angel Eyes.”
Her lashes fluttered and she stood on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss on my lips. Hooking my fingers in the straps of her tank tops, I slid them down her shoulders. Fucking mercy, she had a fantastic pair of tits jammed into a push-up bra. I took a second to admire the black lace cradling her soft, white skin, then reached around to unhook it and slide it off her shoulders.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.” Her body trembled, and I frowned. Most girls eat that shit up, but for some reason, compliments seemed to freak Trinity out. It made me want to work harder to show her how pretty she was.
I kissed her cheek and her neck, down to her breasts, stopping to suck and tease her soft pink nipples into hard little peaks. My hands started working her jeans off. Kneeling down in front of her, I peeled them down her legs. I finally stripped them off and just stared. Knockout figure, with full breasts and curvy hips. Beautiful curves in all my favorite places. Those soft, rounded hips would be perfect to hold on to while pounding into her from behind. I gripped them and she went still. The skin on her right hip felt textured and rough. I turned her slightly and found red, scarred skin from the top of her thigh to just over her hip.
I flicked my gaze up. “What happened, babe?”
She relaxed a notch before answering. “Fire when I was a kid.”
“Does it hurt?”
Her pretty eyes closed again. “No. Just feels weird I guess.”
I pressed my lips against her scarred skin, then kissed my way to her belly button.
“Lie back.”
She did, and I positioned myself right between her thighs. Hooking my fingers in her panties, I slowly pulled them down, kissing each bit of skin they passed.
“Open for me.”
She planted her elbows on the bed and levered up to look down at me. “Wrath, I can’t. Um. I’ve never… I can’t come that way.”
Challenge accepted.
“Okay, baby. Just let me taste you until I’m ready to fuck you. I haven’t recovered from the couch yet.”
Lie. Big, fat, motherfucking lie.
I was so hard it hurt.
I slipped my fingers between her legs and rubbed her softly, tracing her slick, bare skin.
“Do you have any idea how pretty you are—everywhere?”
She hummed and twisted on the bed. I leaned forward and nuzzled her mound. Her hips jerked, so I grabbed them to hold her still, letting my thumbs slide into the juncture of her thighs.
“Open for me. Put your feet on my shoulders.”
It took a few seconds, but she did it.
Spreading her lips, I leaned in and swept my tongue over her.
She let out a sharp little screech.
I glanced up. “You like that?”
“Yes.”
I gave her another long, wet lick, and she gasped. I dipped one finger inside her, in and out, until her hips were rocking with me. Taking another lick, I made my way to her clit, licking slow, sucking, more soft kisses.
Her moans were constant, beautiful, raw sounds. Her hips bumped up. Capturing her little nub between my lips, I sucked gently, still sliding my fingers in and out. Her legs shook and quivered.
Almost there.
She screamed and tightened, grinding herself on my face and fingers. I fuckin’ loved every delicious second. She was able to let go for me. Because of what I did to her. She raked her nails through my hair, holding me where she needed me.
“Please, please, please, don’t stop,” she begged.
I growled and shook my head. No fucking way. Couldn’t stop if I wanted to.
When her screaming died down to little whimpers, I shrugged out of my cut, tossing it on her nightstand. Yanked my shirt over my head and threw it on the floor. Worked my pants off. I needed to bury myself in her that second. I dug through my pocket for a condom and rolled it on.
“You with me, Trinity?”
“Yes.” She held out her arms to me. Seeing we weren’t going to fit on the bed the way she was positioned, I picked her up and tossed her headfirst to the pillows before climbing over her.
Running my gaze over her flushed face gave me a head rush. I fucking did that. She said no one else had ever gotten her off that way.
I did.
Mine.
“You’re incredible,” she whispered while she reached for me. My fingers curled over hers, and I kissed the back of her hand.
“So are you.”
Holy shit.
I didn’t lie when I told Wrath I couldn’t come like that. Or I thought I couldn’t. No one had ever put so much effort into pleasing me. Oh, wow, had I been missing out.
He hovered over me. He was so fucking big. Sculpted, massive muscles everywhere. Beautiful. But I wagered he wouldn’t appreciate me calling him beautiful.
“Spread for me, baby,” he rasped.
Yes, please.
His thick erection prodded against my still-tingling folds. Sensation rushed through me as he pushed in, spreading me so wide. I arched and wrapped my legs around him. In one thrust, he slid in. It was almost too much. He was too much, in so many ways.
He shuddered and strained against me. “You feel so good, babe.”
He pulled back slow and thrust back in deep.
“Oh my God, that’s amazing,” I said, gasping for the breath he kept stealing. “Right there.”
I arched my hips and he slid over that spot again.
“Yes. Right there.”
Again. “Yeah, you like that?” he asked.
Was he kidding? I loved him inside me. Never wanted it to end. “Yes.”
He grinned a wickedly, devilish smile, then slid over that spot again and again. “You gonna come for me one more time, Angel Face?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you are.” He grunted as he pressed inside again, and I reached up to pull him to me, crushing my mouth to his. I tilted my hips again, and he kept hammering away.
Fuck, sex had never felt so good before. Hard. Intense. Pleasurable.
“Trin, give me one more,” Wrath’s strained voice demanded against my ear.
My body shot from pleasurable simmer to overflowing boil. My orgasm hit hard, crashing through me. He kept stroking, working me until I was limp.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned. He tensed and thrust deep, holding while he climaxed with a husky roar.
He looked down at me with soft, warm eyes and a big smile. He touched his lips to my forehead, my cheek, and finally my lips.
Then he rolled to the side and right off the bed. “Ow! Fuck!”
I slapped my hand over my mouth to smother any giggles. Leaning over, I found him sitting on the floor, wearing nothing but a condom and a scowl.
“Who the fuck still has a twin bed at your age?” he grumbled while picking himself up off the floor.
“I don’t want to encourage my hook-ups to stay.” Fuck. I didn’t mean that.
He snatched up his clothes. “Message received, babe.”
His heavy footsteps thudded over the thin floor, shaking the walls as he headed to the bathroom.
Tears slid down my cheeks. Why, why, why did I say something so stupid after he’d been so fucking sweet to me?
The building’s old pipes rattled and whined as he started up the shower, making me cry harder. Shit.
My bathroom door had no lock, so I eased it open and peeked in the shower.
“Wrath?”
He jumped a little. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Tears still rolled down my cheeks and this pitiful sniffling sound gurgled out of me.
I glanced up and found him studying my face. “Why you crying? Was the sex that bad?”
His words forced a harsh sob from me. “No. I feel awful. I don’t know why I said that to you. I didn’t mean it.”
Some of his anger melted away, and he tugged me in the shower with him. He wrapped me up in his big, powerful arms, and I slid my hands around his middle. Tepid water beat down his back, but he was so big he blocked the spray, keeping me dry for the most part.
“Don’t go.”
He squeezed me tighter, resting his chin on top of my head. “You’re a strange girl, Trinity.” His voice rumbled through me.
I nodded, my cheek sliding along his damp skin. “I know.”
He spun us, which, with his massive shoulders and my tiny shower stall, wasn’t easy. But he did it. Very gently and thoroughly, he cleaned every inch of my body. I was humming with need by the time he finished.
One arm wrapped around me and the other shut off the shower. He leaned down and traced the outside of my ear with his tongue, stopping to nibble on my earlobe. I sighed and relaxed against him.
“Babe, do you have any condoms? I only had the one.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good.”
I was thrilled she had condoms, because I really needed to fuck her again. But after that hook-up comment, the idea she was prepared like some naughty Girl Scout pissed me the fuck off.
After she led me back into her bedroom, she opened her nightstand drawer and handed me an unopened box. Just like that, I was a little less annoyed.
I set the box down and pulled her to me. Grinding my cock against her. Even though I was still grumpy about her comment, seeing her crying about it twisted my cold heart. My plan had been to storm the fuck out after I washed her off me.
Instead of leaving, I considered that other challenge she laid down out in her living room.
I gathered her hair in my fist and used it to tilt her head back so I could take her sweet mouth. With my other hand, I worked her nipples, then slid lower to her juicy, tight pussy. She jerked away at first, then leaned into my hand, letting me pump two fingers inside her.
I bumped her with my cock again and used her hair to tug her down.
She wrapped her hands around my forearms, stopping me. “I told you. I don’t get on my knees.”
I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Yes, you will. Only for me, though, Angel Face. You’ll hate how much you love it.”
She glared up at me with bold eyes. Her fearlessness was the biggest turn-on. My fingers worked in and out of her pussy faster, then moved up, spreading her moisture around her clit, circling, and rubbing until she came on my hand, gasping in my ear. Her knees buckled and she grabbed my cock on the way down. Kneeling upright, so sweet and pretty, she opened her mouth.
At first, she tasted me with little strokes, swirling her tongue around, licking. I tightened my fist in her hair.
“Stop being a fucking tease and take me deep like I know you can.”
Honey eyes flashed up at me. Stretching her lips to accommodate my thick size, she took as much of me as she could, then sucked her way back up. After repeating the movement three times, her eyes closed and she let out a moan.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at me. I want to see your angel eyes while you’re sucking my cock.”
She met my gaze, smiled around my cock, and I almost lost it. I yanked her up, whirled her around, and bent her over the ridiculous twin bed.
I should have opened the fucking box when she handed it over. The way she wiggled her ass and arched her back distracted me. I finally got the box open and strips of condoms went flying everywhere. I tried to ignore that she kept a big box of condoms stashed away as I rolled one on.
“Brace yourself,” I warned. She didn’t giggle though. She waited, patient yet eager.
Positioning myself, I slammed up inside her hard and fast. She let out a startled scream, then started pushing back against me. “That’s it. Ride my cock.”
I stood still and let her work herself up and down my dick. What a gorgeous sight. But I needed to see her eyes.
She let out the sexiest, neediest whimper as I pulled out. I stretched out on her bed and pulled her to me. “Climb on.”
Her sexy red lips curled into a smile as she did exactly that. Positioning herself over me, she eased down my dick nice and slow. She flinched and raised herself.
“You okay?”
“Your dick’s really fucking big,” she gasped.
A laugh burst out of me. “Thanks, Angel Face. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all night.”
I ended up staying over. In the absurd twin bed. With her wrapped in my arms, she made a perfect little armful. Still too worked up to sleep, my gaze wandered around the cramped room, absently wondering if I could at least fit in a double bed.
What the fuck?
One night and I’m planning to redecorate her apartment?
Against me, she struggled and moaned. But not in a sex dream sort of way. A nightmarish way. I gripped her tighter. “Trinity. You’re okay. I got you.”
Warm wetness slid over my chest. She was fuckin’ crying in her sleep. I barely knew her, but it killed me. I ran my hands over her harder. I didn’t want to scare her awake, but I hated the misery in her voice. Nothing she said made sense. In the back of my head, I wondered if somehow I pushed her too far and caused her nightmare. Fuck, it’s not like I knew a damn thing about the chick.
After thrashing around for a bit, she finally settled down. I watched over her until I eventually fell asleep too.
My phone went off way too fucking early.
Where R U? Meeting hippies @ prop today - Rock.
Fuck, I’d forgotten all about that.
B there in 45.
Trin was curled up in a tiny ball almost all the way against the wall. I unfolded myself from the cramped bed, slow so I wouldn’t disturb her. I stood there staring at her for a few seconds. A completely new feeling washed over me. Not wanting to leave after a hook-up. Usually, I was out the door as soon as the rubber hit the wastebasket. Or I pointedly offered the chick a ride home.
Trinity.
Without a doubt, one of the most beautiful girls I’d taken a tumble with. But it wasn’t her pretty face or sick curves. Underneath her protective, bitchy shell, something sweet and vulnerable lurked. I actually liked her.
My clothes were still scattered in the bathroom. I gathered up everything and got dressed. A quick search located her cell phone. I got her number and programmed mine into her phone. After peeking in the bedroom, I saw she hadn’t moved. It burned my ass she might think I took off, so I sent her a brief explanation before leaving.
“Are you sure there’s anything up here?” Z asked for the third time.
“Yes, asshole, I’m sure. Ask me again, I’ll kick your ass,” Rock growled.
That type of exchange wasn’t unusual. Normally, I’d join in, but I was pissed I wasn’t snuggling with Trinity.
“Can you both shut the fuck up and read me the next direction?” I snapped.
Rock pointed to a small dirt road coming up on our right. “There.”
It was a sharp right and the road barely looked big enough for our vehicle. There were grassy fields on either side. “Are you sure? This looks more like an ATV trail than a road.”
Rock consulted the printout in his hands. “It’s a road.”
Not much farther and we passed a wrought iron fence. Most of it was obscured by overgrown grass, but it still stuck out.
“That’s it.”
The gate was wide open, so I drove right in. “What the fuck?” popped out of my mouth when I spied the giant Buddha statue in front of us.
Rock snorted. “Big, fat good luck charm I guess.”
“Didn’t do these hippies any good. Fucking IRS is about to take all this shit from them,” Z added.
Sparky sat in the back, silently observing everything. I hoped he gave this place his seal of approval. He’d be the one to decide if this was the new MC or not. Personally, I couldn’t wait to get the fuck away from Empire, specifically Crystal Ball. Too many of the dancers thought our MC was their second fucking home. Made shit awkward.
“Drive right up to the conference center,” Rock directed.
I hung a right and we climbed the hilly, overgrown driveway.
“Gonna need to get some serious landscaping equipment up here,” Z muttered. He definitely knew what we needed and how to get our hands on it.
The guy waiting outside the conference center was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Guess I expected him to be wearing a long robe or some shit. None of us were wearing colors. Rock was in a motherfucking suit, which made all of us piss our pants before we left the MC.
Before we stepped out, Rock tugged on his sleeves one last time. “God, I feel like an asshole,” he muttered.
“You look like one too,” Z responded, completely serious.
“Fuck you.”
John Polly waited patiently for us at the front entrance. Not that I expected trouble, but I was pissed with myself because I couldn’t stop checking my phone. Trinity never texted me back.
Focus. Club business now. Trinity later.
“Good morning, gentlemen.” Now that was fucking funny. There wasn’t one gentle man in our group. “I pray you had no difficulty finding us?” Polly asked with a small bow. I was eager to move on, not stand around making small talk, so I kept my mouth shut.
He shook Rock’s hand but ignored the rest of us. Fine by me.
“I’ll give you a quick tour. Then you can wander around. We’re very motivated. Most of our members have already relocated, so the place is ready for you to take over now.” By “relocated” I think the guy meant “fled the country.”
Rock nodded but kept his bored expression in place.
Our lack of enthusiasm seemed to alarm Polly. I guess he expected us to be more eager. We were but would never show it.
The conference center was massive. Huge entertaining area. Polly called it the reception area. There was a front desk that would make a fantastic bar. A fireplace. Two conference rooms on the right. One would be perfect for our war room where we’d have weekly church. The other we’d use as office space. On the first floor, there were dorm-style bathrooms, a fucking yoga studio, a bedroom suite, laundry room, gym, kitchen, and large dining area. It was enormous, and would allow the club lots of room to conduct both business and our degenerate parties.
Upstairs contained enough bedrooms for each member and then some. At least half had their own bathrooms attached. A huge suite was at one end of the hall. More dorm-style bathrooms and another smaller laundry room. Beautiful hardwood floors throughout the place and lots of open woodwork. It was almost too nice for a pack of biker thugs.
As nice as the place was, our real interest lay in what was downstairs. We asked to see the basement.
Polly shrugged. “It’s unfinished. We’ve only used it for storage.”
“I’d still like to inspect it,” Rock answered using a hint of biker impatience.
Polly sighed as he opened the basement door. The dude must have had a fear of basements, because instead of leading us downstairs, he went outside. We filed down the stairs. Everything was sturdy, clean, and well lit. No creepy-horror-movie-type basement. Nope.
Sparky finally perked the fuck up.
“Fuck, boss! This is it. This is perfect!” He ran through the open space like a little fucking kid.
Whoever built the place must have planned to use it for something. The ceilings were at least ten feet high, which considering my size, I appreciated. At least I wouldn’t give myself a concussion if I had to spend a lot of time down here. The basement contained drainage and thick beams. But the walls were unfinished. That suited us fine since we had a serious construction project planned for the space.
Sparky whipped out a measuring tape, little notebook, and started jotting down notes.
“How much are we talking, Sparky?” Rock asked.
“A lot. Almost everything we got. But I swear we’ll make it back within two years.”
Two years. Long damn time to be out so much cash. Especially since the way we earned had been severely limited.
Rock glanced at Z and me with a raised eyebrow.
“Only active members get a vote on it,” Z said.
True. No way would the retired guys have voted yea for this. But it wasn’t them risking their fucking necks anymore. Sparky and Rock had a solid idea.
“How strong is CB?” I asked Rock.
He nodded and thought it over before answering. “Club Salvatore is the last competition we got, and they won’t be around much longer. Earnings are better and better. Getting quality talent in there since we’ve cleaned shit up.”
“Can we live off it for the next two years?” Z asked.
Rock shrugged. “I’ll talk to the accountant. We gotta figure out the treasurer position soon. But yeah, I think so.”
“That one prospect studied accounting,” Z said.
We both stared at him. “What?”
“Marcel. Not sure if he ever finished or not. He’s good with numbers though.”
Rock glanced at me. “Why didn’t we know this?”
What he meant was why didn’t I know this, because it was my job to know shit like that. I was supposed to vet any prospects after Z gave them his seal of approval. I tried to think over all the stuff I’d learned about Marcel Whelan over the last couple years. Knew a fuck lot about bikes. Had a little sister he was super protective of. His best friend, Blake Irish-name-I-can’t-bother-to-remember, was also a prospect. Marcel was close to being patched in. Two years younger than his buddy, Blake would have to wait a bit longer before being patched in. For young guys, they were both loyal, hard workers. Came from questionable families just like the rest of us.
“You can’t patch a brother in and immediately make him an officer,” I pointed out.
“We can do whatever the fuck we want,” Rock answered.
True enough. It was time to update our by-laws.
Sparky moved farther into the basement. The space was so big we could barely see him. He was busy muttering and measuring, not paying any attention to us.
“Sparky! Let’s go. We still got shit to see,” Rock called out.
Sparky jogged back to where we were waiting. “Boss, this is it. This is the place. I’m telling you,” he said between harsh, panting breaths. Brother smoked way too much weed. He had the lung capacity of a two-year-old.
“Okay, calm down. I hear you. Let’s go see the outside.”
John patiently waited outside on a low stone bench against the building.
He stood as we stepped outside and walked us to the garage. Each of us probably got a boner over the size of it. Lots of space inside for working on our bikes during the winter months. There was also a big diesel plow truck John said the cult—I mean spiritual group—would throw in with the sale of the property. The garage even had its own dedicated generator. The center had two.
We hiked through the woods. John pointed out a large stone amphitheater-type area to us. Looked exactly like the kind of place a cult would use to sacrifice virgins, but I kept that thought to myself. We kept hiking, finally reaching a clearing with four windmills. Motherfucking windmills. Unreal. John explained the setup to Rock and Sparky while I wandered around and took in the views. The setup couldn’t be more spectacular. For someone like me, who hated cramped spaces, it was perfect.
Was it weird to have an MC out in the middle of nowhere? Yeah, probably. But living off the grid, how we wanted, with no one sticking their nose in our business? That was about as free as one could ask for in this life.
On the way back, we spotted the solar panels lining the roof. Sparky almost came in his pants over the second alternate energy source. John explained they were installed only a year ago and should be good for another eight to ten years. He warned us it would be a big expense when we had to replace or upgrade them.
He led us into the kitchen and handed over the paperwork about the solar panels, generators, warranties, info about their deal with the power company for the windmills—crap that fell under Rock’s job description. Next, John handed over a contract. While Rock looked it over, I wandered through the kitchen. Appliances were all new, top-of-the-line shit.
It hit me hard how much I wanted this to work out.
In the truck on the way back, Rock asked Zero and me what we thought. Z was as pumped as me. Sparky was so busy going over his notes, none of us bothered him. We all knew how he’d vote.
“Let’s call Glassman and drop the contract off to him. We have forty-eight hours before they go to the next buyer.”