CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Brick
Bob Seger’s Mainstreet is playing in the background, and Starlet is lying on the couch with her head in my lap. We haven’t spoken much since our argument, since she told me she loved me. I like how it feels caressing her soft hair, occasionally looking down and seeing her tranquil features, like we’ve been doing this every night for years. I lean forward and grab my longneck off the coffee table and take a swig.
As I’m about to set it down, she plucks it from my hand. “I need a drink.”
“There’s some whiskey in the cabinet over the sink, sodas in the fridge.”
“No thank you.” She sits up and sucks down the rest of my beer. “What time is it?”
There’s a vintage Regulator wall clock to the left. “Eight thirty.”
“Early.” She stretches her arms above her head and yawns. “Time doesn’t fly when you’re not having fun.”
“Do you want this night to end?”
She faces me, her features unreadable. “I want my past to stay where it belongs—forgotten.”
I trace my thumb along her jawline. “I’m sorry, Starlet.” I don’t apologize, not to anyone.
She sighs. “Not your fault, Brick. I’m my father’s daughter. His name will haunt me forever.”
All I can think about is my own unfortunate past, my mentally ill, alcoholic father. How he took out all of his failures on me—his irrevocably broken marriage to my mother, his inability to get promoted in the Marines, dozens of failed relationships, his failure as a father… How every time I came close to securing a bit of happiness for myself, he’d destroy it. Either with his fists or a phone call—like he did with Charlotte. Shaking the past is nearly impossible to do, but I tuck the memory of my only girlfriend away and focus on the woman near me. “Hungry?”
“Actually, I’m really thirsty.” She hops up and heads to the kitchen. I hear the fridge door open. “Forgot to tell you I called Silver myself. Saved you the trouble,” she says too casually.
What the fuck did she just say? I rush to the kitchen, confused and angry. “Tell me you’re joking.”
She stands up with a beer in her hand and uses her foot to close the refrigerator door. “Why would I joke about something so serious?”
“Starlet…” I react out of annoyance and grip her by the upper arms, giving her a shake. “When?”
“Let go of me, Brick.” Her green eyes meet mine.
“Answer me.”
“After I guessed how the vote went, I decided to be the master of my own destiny. I don’t need an MC or any man to decide my future. So, I called home.”
“You’re calling it home now?” Not sure why it bothers me so much. I know what happens tomorrow. I made it happen. Her news should have the opposite effect on me, I should be happy she’s so accepting of the choice my MC made for her.
“Born and bred in Alabama.”
“Stop it, Starlet.” I step back, crossing my arms over my chest, scrutinizing her face. She’s full of shit. Though her lips are pressed into a stubborn, hard line, I can see the pain in her eyes. Years of pain. And I’ve tasted a part of that girl. “You’d rather sell your soul than go back to the Devil’s Crusaders.”
Her body jerks in response, like my words sliced through her with laser-like accuracy. “I don’t need to worry about that. The Iron Norsemen sold me back to them for a lot less.”
I clench my teeth, but I can’t think of any words to say because she’s right. We sold her out for honor, unwilling to protect her because we don’t want to start a war over a woman. A woman I happen to want. There’s nothing simple about her. She’s complicated and intelligent, maybe too perceptive because of what she does for a living. I can see her brain working behind those eyes as she studies me, waiting for me to speak.
“What do you want me to say, Starlet? I love you back? I’d risk everything to keep you? We’re either fighting or fucking. Don’t mistake hormones for love, sweetheart.” I instantly regret what I said, but that distance thing needs to happen quick. Neither one of us needs to be tethered to the other—not physically, and definitely not emotionally.
“Don’t call me sweetheart!” She sets the beer bottle on the counter.
I narrow my eyes, wishing I could read her thoughts like she can read my past and future in the lines on my hand. I’m sure it’s pure chaos. “Listen to me, Starlet. I volunteered to call Silver tomorrow. I had a plan…”
“What plan?”
“I wanted a chance to talk him down.”
“That’s not how the Devil’s Crusaders roll, Brick. Would you let an outsider tell your MC what to do with a runaway old lady?”
“I’d see it for what it was, advice that could be taken or rejected without concern.”
She slaps her forehead. “I forgot about that part. And then we all hold hands and sing Kumbaya afterward, right?”
I fist my hands at my sides. She’s a smart-mouthed, pain-in-the-ass. Infuriating. Rebellious. Wild. Fucking beautiful. Something snaps inside me. Instead of Starlet losing it, I do. My hands clamp down on her hips and I tug her into me, grinding against her—making sure she can feel every inch of me. My hand slips to the back of her neck. “There’s better things to do with that fucking mouth of yours.”
She arches a brow. “Any suggestions?”
I catch her bottom lip between my teeth. I sense the devastation in her—the need to forget about what’s coming. Yeah, baby. If I were any other man, I’d make you my queen. But there’s no storybook romance between us. I’m not a nice guy, and she belongs to another man.
Fuck it.
We’ve already been here before.
I strip her shirt off, eyeing her lacy, black bra. “Take it off,” I order hoarsely. I’m hungry to see her naked, to thrust inside her tight little pussy and claim her.
She unfastens her bra and it falls to the floor. Her breasts are perfect, and those tiny hard nipples are begging for worship. “The skirt.”
She shimmies out of it, tossing it aside.
I take in every silky inch of her. The hint of red between her thighs turns me on. Red means fire. Red means rage. Red means I have Starlet in my arms again. “Lose the panties.” Or I’ll fucking rip them off.
With intentional slowness, she eases the material to her ankles and smiles up at me.
If I could stop time, I’d keep her here forever, just as she is, naked and ready for my tongue. Before I have a chance to undress, she slinks closer and drops to her knees in front of me, her tiny hands sliding up my torso, exploring my stomach and the bulge my jeans can’t hide.
I throw my head back as she unbuckles my belt and unzips my fly. Just the thought of her taking me in her mouth makes me want to blow a load. Then she’s everywhere at once, swirling her tongue over the head of my cock, lapping up the precum, moaning and kissing her way up and down my shaft, tickling my balls at the same time.
I growl, feral and ready to seize control. I stare down at her. Starlet’s eyes are closed as she’s working me with uninhibited joy. Another difference between Starlet and other women. Most MC groupies give out blowjobs like business cards.
Not Starlet. She loves my cock. And I love that she loves it.
Taking me deep, she looks up at me, circling her fingers at the base, then gives me a gentle squeeze. Her hand slips behind my back and she cups my ass, holding on tight.
I fist her hair, encouraging her to go faster, needing the release, wanting to watch as she swallows my cum. It’s building… My balls are high and tight, tingling. She eases me in and out of her mouth, tightening her lips, that hot tongue doing its thing, weaving a spell around my cock.
My fingernails dig into her scalp as I growl out her name—drained of everything—including my ability to resist anything she has to offer.
As soon as my body jerks a last time, she sits back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You’re wonderful,” she says, a naughty gleam in her eyes.
I’m keenly focused on her while I strip. One good turn deserves another. Whatever she was trying to prove, I don’t know, but I’ll answer it. I’ll make her mine for the night. Give her every reason to never forget what we almost had, what we could have shared if she wasn’t the daughter of the founder of the Devil’s Crusaders. The thought tests my willpower to hold in any violence, but it also fuels my need to have her. I’m already fully erect again. She takes a quick look between my legs, then stares up at me.
“Your dick never fails to amaze me.”
“Yeah?” I lift her onto the edge of the counter. “Spread your legs.”
Her pussy is wet and glistening. I guide the soles of her feet to my shoulders and wait for her to get comfortable. “Hold on, baby,” I warn. “This might take a while.”