by Sam Crescent
Damnit.
Memories of his mouth on me, his fingers in me, ruined the bit of cotton and satin covering that throbbing body part.
“Having you this close and not being able to lose myself in you is killing me.”
I gulped, a sure goner for the biker I shouldn’t fall for.
“Come to my hotel tonight,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll eat you, and then we’ll dine in bed and suck down wine.” He smirked as though knowing my state. “A night of debauchery.” The metal in his eyebrow glinted as he lifted it, and I snapped my jaw shut. “What do you say, queenie?”
Hell, yes. I managed a nod and made my escape before bending over and begging for it right then and there. My boss was exquisite torture, sweet poison on my tongue—a naughty, insatiable man—and I’d caved all too easily.
Chapter Nine
Trip
“Let’s skip work tomorrow. I want to take you north on my bike.”
Rhonda stared up at me, her lips still parted from trying to catch her breath, her hair a kinky, wild mess.
Most of my body weight pressed her into the hotel’s bed, and my dick still shoved against her womb, my balls sucked dry by her tight pussy.
“What?” she asked, blinking.
“I want to take you home with me. Show you around the club. Introduce you to my brothers.”
“You barely know me, Trip.” Caution filled her eyes, but I held her jaw, keeping her attention on me.
“I’m under your spell,” I mumbled. “Can’t decide if you’re a witch or evil queen, but your claws are in deep, whether you want them to be or not.”
There. Truth out, solidifying it in my head and heart.
“Trip…”
“Throw caution to the wind and tell whatever questions you’ve got going on in that pretty head of yours to go fuck themselves.”
“What we’re doing isn’t exactly proper.”
“Fuck it.”
“If the board finds out—”
“Fuck them.”
“Trip.” She pursed her lips.
“I’m serious, Rhonda.” I pulled out and rolled us, settling her atop me, her soft, warm curves better than any blanket. “I know it’s kinda soon to be taking you home, but I feel good about you—about us.”
She lifted her head, her eyes searching my face, her dark hair a wild, sexy as fuck mane. “Us?”
I grinned and smoothed her hair away from her face, but it sprang back the second I cupped her face. “Us.”
“What if I don’t want an ‘us’?”
“You do.”
One of her dark brows arched upward. “Says who?”
“Your eyes. Your body.”
“Not my head.”
“Mmm.” I peered into her eyes. “I can be very persuasive, you know. Care to find out just how much?”
A smile played at the corner of her mouth.
I leaned up and pressed mine to the soft cushion of her lips. “Say yes, queenie. Let me parade you through my town. I promise I won’t be the only one who will want to drop to their knees to worship you.”
She snorted, but I kissed her quiet until she melted against me.
“Say yes, queenie.”
“Fine.”
“Say it.”
She pulled back again with a huff and glared down at me. “Yes.”
I grinned like a motherfucker and rolled off the bed with her still in my arms. “Christ, you are perfect.”
She smacked my arm as I strode past the trolley with its remnants of our dinner and entered the bathroom.
“Now you’re going to be a good little girl and let me wash you from nose to toes.”
“Touch my hair, and you’re a dead man,” she muttered, naked and gloriously sexy while I pulled off the condom.
I chuckled. “I won’t, queenie. Promise.”
****
Being the boss kicked ass. I didn’t have to call off or explain my absence—but I did let Mrs. Grimes know that I, along with Rhonda, wouldn’t be in. Let the goddamn office think what they would.
Two consenting adults, two souls somehow bound within a matter of days. I hadn’t yet told Rhonda I wasn’t letting her go, but I’d get there. Eventually. Once she accepted the inevitable in her head.
We sped north up Route 93, the warm air whipping around us. She wore my helmet to keep her hair contained, and I wondered if she smiled widely like I did as she stroked my cock through my leathers. We headed into the sticks compared to Boston, straight for the club. With it being a Friday morning, I expected Jonny and a few of my brothers would be sitting in his office, discussing business as had become the norm since opening the pot lounges.
They didn’t expect me back so soon, and since I hadn’t spoken with anyone about my queenie, we got quite the reception when we walked in the old club’s door.
Capone manned the bar and kitchen as usual for the weekly meeting, and he caught sight of us first and grinned. “Rucker! Back already?” he hollered over the eighties music blaring overhead.
Heads turned and a few catcalls sounded, but I laced my fingers through Rhonda’s to keep her from slipping back outside into the quiet—and to also let my brothers know who she belonged to.
Music lowered, and before we made it to the bar, Jonny’s office door opened, and he strode out, Hawk and Digger on his heels.
Jonny’s gaze narrowed on me, but glanced at the woman I pulled tight against me. “Head to Boston to claim a business and come back with a woman.” He chuckled and shook my hand.
“This is Rhonda,” I said, tugging her forward. “Rhonda, this is Jonny, our president.”
Both Hawk and Digger, the ugly brute, didn’t so much as twitch a smile, not that I expected them to.
“They’re happy to meet you,” I assured Rhonda as we sat at a table, the three men joining us.
Tight-lipped and stoic queen mask in place, she appeared more than a little uneasy, and instant fear twisted my guts.
She hates the club. Hates my friends.
Perhaps bringing her to the club hadn’t been the best idea.
Chapter Ten
Rhonda
The overwhelming sense of freedom I’d experienced on the back of Trip’s bike evaporated the second we walked into the club. With it being a Friday morning, I hadn’t expected so many men to fill the space—or the women hanging on them.
Club whores, Trip had warned me about, eyed me from where they sat—on stools and Glider laps—as though I was a threat to what they felt they owned. I felt bad for them, really. Fucking or sucking every dick in the place, except for the brothers with old ladies of their own, without a chance of landing one of them.
I was also the only black person in the place. Perhaps that’s why they stared. While I told myself I didn’t care, that I wouldn’t let that fact bother me, it did. Chin lifted and mask of indifference firmly in place, I greeted the brothers Trip introduced me to.
At least Jonny smiled. Hawk simply sifted a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue while nodding at me. The massive brute of a man, Digger, didn’t even bother trying to hold back his scowl.
Even though his scowl lingered while we sat at a table together, I couldn’t help but think it was due to my presence in the club. Trip had warned me the man scowled a lot, but still. He watched my every move, every breath, as though waiting for me to do something stupid. Hawk’s stare singed just as harshly, and I fought against the need to flee.
Capone sauntered toward the table, all twinkling blue eyes and pretty-boy smile, calming me the slightest bit. “Who’s the lovely lady?” he asked without taking his focus off my face.
“Rhonda,” Trip replied, “and if you even think about flirting, Capone, I’ll kick your ass.”
Jonny chuckled.
“Better yet, I find you checking her out, and I’ll tell Helena.”
Capone laughed, uninhibited and carefree. “Did Trip here tell you he’s fucking gone on you, darlin’?”
I
jerked my gaze around the table—two smiling, two masked faces in place. Trip squeezed my fingers.
“Ignore the frowning fuckers,” he muttered, but I raised an eyebrow in question. “They’re just giving me shit ‘cuz I never brought a woman here before.”
I wanted to poke and prod, ask a dozen questions, but I kept my lips sealed, my mind full with bullshit thoughts and insecurities I hadn’t considered in years.
The men gave each other shit for a little longer, but I tuned them out until Capone asked if I wanted something to eat. I’d heard about his ability to caramelize onions so agreed to have one of his famous burgers.
With a wink, Capone left us sitting there, the music still a little too loud in my opinion. And, eighties? Seriously, who the hell listened to that shit, anyway? Strike number … whatever against the Gliders and their gang.
I glanced over at Trip and found him studying me. My attempted smile to set him at ease failed. He turned his attention on the room, and I watched him evaluate it as though from a different perspective, how I might view it as a first-time guest.
Once he got his fill, he focused on my face, glancing over me from the top of my wild, kinked hair, to my pointed chin. A soft smile curved his lips as he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “You’re a fucking goddess among the lowlife. A queen these whores can’t even hold a candle to.”
My heart melted at his intuition, and I swallowed against sudden tears.
“So did this little shit kidnap you?” Digger finally acknowledged me, his voice low as hell and rumbly like a damn truck, pulling me away from my emotions.
“No.” I clipped the word short so as not to reveal the trace of tears clogging my throat.
“How the hell did he get you on the back of his bike and up here?” Jonny asked, leaning forward, elbows on the table, his dark eyes scary as hell and probably just as intuitive.
I lifted my chin and swallowed, settling myself once more. “He asked. Nicely.”
Hawk’s lips actually twitched as a twinkle lit his hazel eyes. “What the hell do you see in his skinny ass?”
I glanced at Trip to find him grinning and relaxing back in his chair. Compared to Digger and Hawk, he was skinny, but I preferred his lithe, cut form to that of the hulking beasts across the table from me. I stared down his brothers. “Trip is fucking fine just the way he is.”
Digger’s lips actually pulled upward in the ugliest smile I’d ever seen, and both Jonny and Hawk chuckled.
“You’re fucked, Trip,” Hawk said, loud enough for the entire club to hear.
Trip’s grin widened, and my face grew warm while I glanced around the room again. Two of the club whores still stared at me as though I’d brought the plague, but everyone else seemed to have gone back to whatever our arrival had interrupted.
Fuck the whores’ petty jealousy and fuck my insecurities. This is Trip’s second family, and I’m not about to judge them.
God knew I’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
My smile came a bit easier, and by the time Capone sat a huge burger and pile of fries in front of me, I had relaxed enough to enjoy my lunch.
We went to visit his mother a few hours later, and she pulled me into her arms like she’d known me for years. Tears flooded her eyes, prompting mine to well. “Louie loved you like his own,” she whispered, and one tear slipped down her cheek.
Too choked up to reply, I nodded, a fresh rush of grief rolling over me.
We sat over coffee and rhubarb crisp, sharing stories long into the night. The same shared grief, the same love for a person taken too young, connected me with Trip’s mother as well, and as I lay in her guest bed that night, wrapped up in Trip’s arms, I truly felt at home for the first time since getting kicked out of my parents’ house at age sixteen.
They, too, had judged me for mistakes I’d made, shunning me as “evil” as their church leaders demanded.
Contentment I’d never experienced lightened my chest.
If I hadn’t been shunned, I never would have lived on the streets, or met Louie. He had saved me, and in doing so, had given me the opportunity to set my life on a new course, one I never would have found without the heartache leading up to it.
Smiling, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the hell out of the contentment resting in my heart.
Chapter Eleven
Trip
The scent of coffee stirred me awake, and I tugged the warm, satiny-skinned body pressed against me even tighter. Turning to my side, I buried my face in my queenie’s hair, smiling like a goddamn lunatic.
My brothers were right about my being fucked.
I nuzzled my lips against Rhonda’s neck, and she stretched with a sigh. “How’d you sleep, queenie?”
“Like a damn rock,” she mumbled, all sexy and sweet while wiggling her backside against my morning wood.
I groaned in her ear and nipped her lobe. “I wanted to bury myself inside you last night, but I think we both passed out before our heads hit the pillows.”
Rhonda threaded her fingers through mine atop her stomach and sighed. “The bike ride up here yesterday drained me.”
“Yeah.” I kissed along her shoulder and moved our linked hands lower, my pinkie coming to rest on her clit. A few slow circular rubs atop her nub earned me a shift of her fine ass backwards, pressing into my dick.
“Take me, Trip,” she whispered, releasing her hold on my hand to grab hold of my hair. “Bare.”
We’d discussed the fact I’d never gone without—and she’d been given a clean bill of health after her time on the streets—but we hadn’t gotten the opportunity to fuck with nothing between us.
She lifted her leg, draping it back over my thigh, and I groaned to find her already swollen and wet against my wandering fingertips. “Trip…”
I shifted and lined up against her heat. One slow, steady flex of my ass buried my dick deep inside her pussy, every inch of me encased in wet heat. “Goddamn, queenie,” I groaned. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this.”
“Yes,” she whispered, arching her back.
I pulled out and sank back in, clamping my mouth on her shoulder to keep from being too loud. She was perfect—in every fucking way. Her insecurities made me want to wrap her up in my arms. Her fear of being judged made me want to slaughter whatever fucker thought to even look at her the wrong way.
Possessive and protective. Two things I’d never felt for a woman before her.
I took my time nudging deep inside her, every gasp and whimper from her lips fueling my need to fuck her like an animal, but refrained.
We’d fucked.
I wanted to make love—something else I’d never done before.
One hand playing with her clit, I snaked my other beneath her, grasping her chin to turn her head.
Her riotous, gorgeous hair tickled my face until my skin brushed her cheek. She smelled like tangy sweetness and exotic spice. Absolute fucking perfection.
“I’m dead gone on you,” I whispered against the corner of her mouth while sliding my dick back into the hilt.
Her hand tightened in my hair, and she arched her back with a whimper.
“Does that scare you?” I asked, dragging my dick back out against her slick walls.
“No.” She opened her eyes and held my stare as I continued to fuck in and out of her.
That connection I’d felt between us grew stronger as we panted, sweat slickening between our skin with every slow rock.
“Will you stay with me when we get back to Boston tomorrow night?” she whispered, her pale eyes owning my soul as thoroughly as her body did mine.
Grinning, I buried deep and held still against her womb, my fingertips toying with her clit. “You like me or something?”
She smiled and gyrated her hips when I didn’t move. “You can stay Monday, too. Hell.” A squeeze of her inner muscles brought stars to my eyes, and I groaned. “You can stay all week.”
I blinked to focus on her face. “Asking me to move in?”
Rhonda shrugged and pulled me in for a kiss. The languid motion between us didn’t last; our kiss grew heated—frantic with need—and I fought to keep from thumping the old bed frame against the wall of my mother’s guest room.
My queenie came undone, and I swallowed her cries, her pussy squeezing and milking, coaxing my climax to fill her with cum. Sweaty and sated, I held her close, still buried deep, still hard, still connected.
“What will the board think?” I whispered, smoothing back her hair to make her neck available to my lips.
“I don’t give a shit.”
I chuckled and pulled out, rolling her beneath me.
She peered at me at me through sleepy, satisfied eyes as I settled between her thighs. “Neither do I,” I murmured, studying her beautiful face in the sunlight flooding around Ma’s blinds. “Seeing as how the company belongs to me, what does it really matter how people judge us?”
Her smile stole my goddamn breath as she arched an eyebrow and lifted her legs, planting her feet on the mattress beside my knees. “You never answered my question.”
I grinned again and brushed my lips over hers. “I have a business to run—even though I’m not too keen on city life—so I’ll stay for however long you’ll have me, queenie.”
“What if that’s a long damn time?” she asked, studying me as I pulled back to peer down at her.
I grinned. “Then it’s a long damn time—you just gotta agree to bike rides up north as often as possible on weekends.”
“As long as I don’t have to keep my hands to myself while riding,” she said with a flirty smirk.
A groan rumbled in my chest. “My brothers had it right,” I said, rubbing the back of my hardening dick against her sopping core, smearing our combined cum all over her pussy. “I’m dead gone on you.”
Rhonda wrapped her arms and those goddamn legs around me, tugging me back down. “Then fuck what anyone else thinks.”
“Mmm.” I shifted to notch my dick inside her. “How about I fuck you again first, then we’ll tell the rest of the world to fuck off?”
She actually giggled. A goddamn childlike laugh that flooded emotion through me that I swore had to be what love felt like.
