Iron Fury MC Boxed Set

by Bella Jewel

  Part of me wants to see who is here.

  But mostly, I want to see him.

  Like that.

  Bared wide open.

  Fucking.

  Primal.

  Brutal.

  My pussy clenches, surprising me.

  I’m no stranger to my sexuality; I’m in tune with it more than most women. I’m far from being easy, in fact, I haven’t slept with a good deal of men but I know what I want, and what I like, and I’m not afraid of it. Nor am I afraid to try new things. I’m sexual. And right now, my body is on high alert. The idea of watching someone else, it does something to me.

  I shuffle my body close and then peer around the door. For a minute, I can’t see much, I can just hear it. The lights are out, the only thing that’s on are two lamps, lighting the room just enough, but not making it bright. Then I see them. I have to move out a little farther, because my room is just too far to the left. I carefully do that and let my eyes focus.

  I swallow.

  I have a clear view of the girl on the couch, sprawled on it, legs spread, back arching. She’s blond, pretty by the looks. Incredible body. Big boobs, slim waist, pretty pink pussy. She’s any man’s dream, no doubt. Koda is sitting, sort of half turned, right between her legs. He’s shirtless, but he’s still wearing a pair of cotton shorts that are bulging from his no doubt hard cock.

  I glance at his body, and my mouth waters, just a little.

  Big. Broad. Bronze. Muscles that are so big, yet so smooth and perfectly fit for him. Tattoos. Everywhere. My eyes focus on one across the top of his back, from shoulder to shoulder. BRAXTON. I wonder who Braxton is. A child? A brother? A friend? Curiosity burns, but my attention is taken back by another feminine moan. My eyes zero in, and I see Koda has two fingers in the girl’s pussy, gently thrusting, with skill and precision. His thumb rubbing over her clit.

  Fire explodes between my legs, and the ache becomes almost unbearable. I should be ashamed that I’m so turned on, but I’m not. Watching him, watching the way his fingers are gliding in and out of her, watching her mouth gasp in pleasure, makes my body come alive. I clench my legs, trying to ease the pressure, but nothing is working.

  My hand moves before I think any more about it.

  It slips into my panties, and I find myself wet. I bite my lip to stop from gasping, as I gently begin to rub in small, slow circles. My eyes not moving off Koda. The woman arches higher and higher and then suddenly she gasps out his name and her body shudders. He keeps his fingers working until her body goes limp, and then he removes his fingers and stands, jerking down his boxers.

  My lips part, and my eyes get wide at the sight of his massive cock. It’s thick, and hard, and perfect. God. Beautiful. His big hand circles around it, stroking up and down a few times, before he demands gruffly, “Back of the couch, get over it.”

  The girl moves, getting onto her knees and bending the front of her body over the back of the couch. I have a better view of her now, and she’s definitely attractive. Koda pulls out a condom from his jeans and tears it open, putting it on, and then he moves behind her, guiding his cock to her entrance, but I can’t see it clearly now. I rub harder, pleasure building like a wave inside my body, it feels so incredibly good, I can’t hold on much longer.

  Koda thrusts, the girl whimpers, and I close my eyes for a second, so close my body is trembling. My fingers work harder, and I can hear her crying out as he fills her. Oh, God. My eyes flutter open and meet the most incredible honey-colored eyes I’ve ever seen. Koda is looking right at me. I should jerk my hand back, I should rush away, but my body is exploding with pleasure, a pleasure unlike anything I’ve felt in a long time.

  I can’t stop.

  I can’t.

  Oh, God.

  I bite my lip, and my eyelids flutter a little.

  Koda holds my eyes.

  But he doesn’t stop.

  He fucks her hard, hands on her hips, slamming into her. His jaw is tight, his eyes are filled with pleasure, and his body is wound up tight.

  It’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

  I come.

  I can’t hold it back.

  My lips part, and I whimper, my knees trembling as my orgasm rips through my body. My free hand clutches the door frame to stop me from toppling over and my body convulses. The whole time, my eyes don’t leave his. His mouth parts slightly, and he makes a rasping sound.

  Then he pulls his cock out, rips the condom off, and he comes all over the woman’s back.

  I watch in pure, raw fascination as he pumps his cock and his release shoots, strand after strand, over her bronze skin. She’s whimpering, I’m shaking, and Koda is staring at me with a look I’ll never forget. I bite my bottom lip and slip back into the room, my body so swollen and so wound up, I fall onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling.

  Panting.

  Content.

  A little horrified.

  How will I ever look him in the eye again?

  ~*~*~*~

  THEN – CHARLIE

  I walk to the front door of the big house. It isn’t as big as mine, but it’s still bigger than all the other ones next to it. My hands are shaking, and I know if I don’t do this right, Dad will make me wish I wasn’t born. That’s what he keeps telling me. So, I have to get this right. This is my first house. He went over and over what I had to do. What I had to say.

  I won’t forget a single word.

  I wouldn’t dare.

  I fumble mindlessly with the old, torn shirt I’m wearing. I don’t like the clothes Dad dressed me in, but he said I needed to look like I was really, really broke and from a poor, possibly even homeless family. He even rubbed dirt on my face and into my hair. I feel yucky, and I want to have a bath, but I can’t do any of that until I’ve done what Dad asked me to do.

  I reach the front door, and my heart feels funny. It’s beating so fast that I can’t get much air into my lungs. I don’t like how it’s making me feel, and I keep fumbling with my shirt, scared. Maybe I could run away? Just run and never go back to Dad. But he’d find me. He told me he’d find me. He said I can never escape him unless he tells me I can.

  I wish he would tell me I can.

  I knock on the door. Softly. Maybe if nobody answers, I can go home and have a bath, and read a book, and Dad will see this is a really silly idea.

  The door opens.

  A man stands in the doorframe, staring down at me. He doesn’t look as scary as I imagined in my head. He’s wearing a suit, like the ones Dad wears when he goes somewhere fancy. He has really dark hair and pretty blue eyes. They look like the sky. He studies me for a moment, and I stare up at him, my voice frozen. What if this is a really nice man and my dad is going to do something really awful to him?

  I swallow, and then in a small voice, I croak, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m lost, and I can’t find my way home.”

  The man stares at me, his eyes scanning over my clothes and then moving back up to my face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  My heart does a flip flop. No one has ever called me a nice name like that before. Nobody except Mommy, anyway.

  “My name is Sally.”

  That is the name Dad told me to use. He said, under no circumstances, am I to use my name. Ever.

  “And where do you live, Sally?”

  I look around, left and right, just like daddy told me to. “I’m … I’m not really sure where I am. I was with my mom, and then I saw a butterfly and I ran off. Then, I got lost and I kept walking. Now I don’t know where I am. Can I use your phone to call my house?”

  The man’s brows go up. “You know your own phone number? How old are you?”

  “I’m nearly eight, and yes, Mom told me all kids should know their own phone numbers.”

  He nods, seemingly impressed, and then says, “Okay. Come in.”

  I slide off my ragged shoes, which also makes the man look happy, and then I follow him into the big house. It smells nice. Like cooki
es. I wish I could have some cookies. Rebecca bakes them for me when Dad isn’t around, but he says I shouldn’t eat sugar, that I need to stay fit and healthy so I can help him.

  Mom always gave me cookies.

  “The phone is right in here.”

  We go into a big living room, with big red couches, and the man goes over to a phone, handing it to me. I stare down at it, and then start pressing the buttons. Dad says he has a special phone I’m supposed to call. I don’t know what he needs it for, but I heard him talking to someone on the phone saying he can trace things. I don’t know what that means. He answers, anyway, and says, “Are you inside the house?”

  We practiced this, too.

  “Mommy? I got lost. I’m at a man’s house.”

  “After you hang up, you make sure you go to the bathroom and sneak off and find what you can,” Dad orders.

  “I d-d-d-don’t think he’s a dangerous man,” I say, glancing at the man, just like Dad told me to.

  The man’s eyebrows go up, and he shakes his head. “I won’t hurt you, young lady. Give your mother my address.”

  He gives me his address, and I say it on the phone.

  “Go. Hurry up,” Dad growls, then hangs up.

  “Okay, Mommy, I’ll see you soon.”

  I hang up the phone and hand it back to the man. “She’s coming. She said she’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  “Very good. Can I get you a glass of water?”

  I nod. “Yes. Please. Can I use your bathroom? I had a big milkshake before.”

  I squeeze my legs together, just like I was told, and the man nods. “If you walk down that hall, count three doors, you’ll find it on your left. Do you know which side is your left?”

  I nod and point to the left.

  “Clever girl. I’ll get you some water.”

  I walk off down the hall, and when I hear the man go into the kitchen and the door swings closed, I start opening all the doors in the hallway. The first two are bedrooms, and they don’t look like they have anything in them. The third one is a toilet, just like he said. I rush over to the other side and open them, too. I finally come to an office. I slip in. My heart is making me feel funny, and my stomach is sick, but I hurry, just like Dad said. I go to the desk, and I pick up anything I can find. Any pieces of paper that have names, or phone numbers, or are invoices, which Dad showed me so I knew what they looked like.

  I take as much as I can, fold it all up, and stuff it into my pants, and then I rush back out and over the hall to the bathroom. I go inside, shutting the door, and I grab hold of the sink, panting. That was really scary, and I didn’t like it at all. Not one bit. I wash my hands and wet my face, and then make sure the paper is tucked into my pants properly before walking out.

  The man is just coming into the hall when I step out, and I flinch when I see him.

  He could have caught me.

  But he didn’t.

  Thank God.

  “Everything okay?” he asks me.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  I move back into the living room and drink the glass of water he gives me. When there is a knock at the door ten minutes later, I rush over and open it. Dad already told me his friend Esther will be pretending she’s my mother for when she needs to come and collect me. He told me he thought everything through.

  “Mommy,” I cry, again, just like we practiced.

  “Silly, silly girl. Rushing off. I was beside myself! Never do that again,” Esther pretends, hugging me. Then she looks up at the man. “Thank you so much for taking care of her.”

  He nods. “My pleasure.”

  Then we leave.

  The second we get to the car, Esther looks at me. “Your father will be proud.”

  She’s wrong.

  Dad is never proud.

  Never.

  -6-

  NOW – KODA

  I wake up with a raging boner.

  She watched me last night fucking Sugar. She stood there, hands in her panties, rubbing her sweet fucking pussy, and watched me fucking another woman. Met a lot of girls in my life; never met one so bold.

  She wasn’t ashamed.

  Not even close.

  And she made sure I knew it.

  She let me watch those sweet lips part as she came all over her own hand.

  In that moment, I forgot who I was fucking.

  All I wanted to do was bend her over and fill her so I could experience just how fucking incredible it would feel to drive my dick into her soft flesh.

  I curl my hand around my cock and stroke angrily. Hard and fast, I pull, thinking of Charlie, thinking of how fucking hot that moment was.

  In minutes, I come, all over my belly. Grunting, I jerk the last few stands from my dick and stand, walking straight into the shower. I make it long, and I make it hot. When I’m done, I can smell the coffee brewing. She’s awake. She’s awake, and she knows, as well as I do, what happened last night.

  Not going to say a word about it.

  I don’t have time to fantasize about her, nor can I allow anything sexual to happen, even if we weren’t touching.

  Too much is at stake.

  Things that are far more important than her.

  I pull on a pair of jeans, leaving the shirt off, and stride out into the kitchen where Charlie is standing, pouring two coffees. She’s wearing a long tee and panties and nothing fucking else. My dick twitches, and I inwardly growl.

  Be a fuckin’ asshole, Koda.

  You can’t lose this opportunity by giving a fuck about the girl standing in front of you.

  This is for Braxton.

  Everything you’re doing is for Braxton.

  Charlie looks up from the coffee she’s mixing, and her cheeks go a little pink. Fuck me. She’s beautiful. Long, red hair messy and falling around her shoulders. Cheeks rosy from sleep. Fucking perfection.

  “Morning,” she says, and her voice is chipper, far more chipper than usual.

  She thinks last night changed things.

  It didn’t.

  I nod at her.

  “I don’t do coffee,” I mutter.

  She stares at me, then at the coffee, and I watch her face change. Her lips tighten, her eyes narrow, and her breathing deepens. I’ve pissed her off. Which is exactly how it needs to stay.

  Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like a dick.

  “Right,” she mumbles, grabbing the whole cup and tossing it in the sink without emptying it first. Coffee splashes everywhere.

  “Fuck me, Charlie,” I growl. “That just went everywhere.”

  She reaches into the sink, pulls out a wash cloth, and literally throws it, covered in coffee, in my direction. “Well then,” she says, holding my eyes. “Clean it up.”

  Anger bubbles in my chest, starting deep and rising upward. I start panting now, too, and we stand there, in the kitchen, glaring at one another. She isn’t going to back down. Strong, feisty, fucking woman. I storm over to the sink, jerking the tap on and rinsing the cloth, then I wipe the coffee she launched everywhere. She takes her cup and calmly walks out of the kitchen and out onto the front patio.

  Fuck me.

  Most women don’t handle men that are hard on them.

  This woman, she gets harder, and she gives it back just as strong.

  I’d almost bet she hasn’t cried in a very long time.

  Which means it’s time to stop going soft on her.

  If she won’t start talking, I’ll start making her life a fucking misery.

  One way or another, this is going to end with me and her.

  Like it, or not.

  ~*~*~*~

  THEN – KODA

  I have one big fucking advantage.

  Braxton and I are identical twins.

  I shave my beard off, and there is no telling us apart.

  Which means I can play him perfectly. I know him better than anyone else. I can walk like him. Talk like him. And nobody would ever know.

  And that’s exactly what I’m doing.<
br />
  At least, I will, when I lose some weight and make myself look a little shittier. That isn’t hard, for someone that works out daily and eats well, I just have to reverse it, give myself a lack of sleep, and in a week or two, I’ll look nearly as shitty as he does. Baggy shirts will cover most of my muscle tone. I’ll pull it off. If anyone questions me, I’ll say I’ve been working out a little.

  As for Braxton, he’s going to rehab.

  I didn’t give him a choice.

  A very good friend of mine, and cop buddy, went and paid him a visit. I gave him enough information that he was able to give Braxton enough to scare him. Of course, he owes me big, so he was never going to lock Brax away, but that wasn’t what he told him. He gave him a choice, he either goes to rehab for three months and he’ll forget what he has on him, or he goes to prison.

  Braxton chose rehab. It’s shorter. It’s quicker. And he can get out fast.

  Braxton is fully aware it’s my doing. And it’s safe to say he’s wild with me. He’s also paranoid. He has jobs to do. And if he disappears for three months, those jobs will hunt him down and when he gets out, those jobs will kill him. But if he went to prison, and those jobs found out he spoke to police, he’d never get out of prison alive.

  And he knows it.

  Rehab gives him a chance of getting out of it alive.

  He just doesn’t know while he’s in there, I’ll be picking up the slack.

  He doesn’t want to see me. He doesn’t want me to visit.

  That’s fine.

  At least in there, I know he’s safe.

  And outside of my good buddy, Connor, the cop, I’m the only one who knows Braxton is in there.

  My next move is sorting his roommate out.

  I’m going to pay him off, tell him he needs to move out of the house. I need to live there, and I need to live there alone. The reason? So that anyone who comes past thinks I’m Braxton. I need everyone and anyone to think that. So, the roommate has to go because he knows I’m not Braxton, and he’ll interfere with my plans. Far as I know he was plannin’ on going anyway, so it won’t take much convincing.

  Once I’ve done that, I’ll let most of it come to me.