Savage Kings MC Box Set 2

by Lane Hart

  When she turns away from the group of men she was waiting on, the open sides of her flimsy black tank top blow back, revealing a flash of color. Now I know for certain that’s not Quincey, because I’ve seen and kissed every inch of her ivory skin and she doesn’t have any tattoos.

  Imagine my surprise when the gorgeous woman looks over at me and waves with her free hand before weaving her way through the crowd to get to me.

  “Quincey?” I say in disbelief when she’s close enough to hear me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I work here, remember?” she responds like it’s obvious.

  “Since when?” I ask.

  “For the past two days. Didn’t Gabriel tell you?” she replies with a grin. “I’m going to be the administrative assistant like we talked about. I know Gabriel needed the help tonight, so here I am.”

  “No, he didn’t tell me,” I mutter while trying to figure out why he didn’t, and why my stomach knots up hearing the familiar way his name rolls off her tongue. Pulling back the slit in the side of her shirt to see the flower tattoo closer, I ask, “Did he do this?”

  “Yeah. What do you think? It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Ah, yeah, it is,” I agree. There’s no other way to describe it other than sexy as hell. “Are you fucking him?” I can’t help but ask, unable to conceal my anger.

  “No, Ian,” Quincey says as she rests her free hand on my shoulder. “Not since that day you saw us. I swear.”

  “Then why didn’t either of you tell me any of this? I haven’t heard a goddamn word from you in almost a week!”

  “I’ve been busy helping out Gabriel and the new artists before the grand opening.” Leaning up to whisper in my ear, she adds, “And I needed some time to think about your offer.”

  I wish I believed her, but I know from experience that the people you care about can do shit behind your back and lie convincingly right to your fucking face.

  But I’ve known Gabriel a long time, and it’s impossible for him to lie. He’s honest to a fault, which is why it’s surprising that he was able to keep his bisexuality a secret from everyone for so long.

  Now I just need to wait and talk to him to figure out what the hell has been going on.

  Gabriel

  “This looks amazing, man. Thank you,” Roman, the president of the Myrtle Beach Savage Kings charter, tells me when he holds out a wad of folded up hundred-dollar bills after I finish his skull king tat on his bicep.

  “You’re welcome,” I reply. “But you don’t owe me anything for it. Kings get discounts, and presidents don’t pay.”

  “Then consider it a tip,” he says before he pops the front pocket on my cut and slips the cash inside. “Congrats on the re-opening.”

  “I appreciate it,” I tell him as we shake hands before he walks away.

  When I turn back to my table to start cleaning up and getting ready for the next client, I find Ian leaning his back against the dragon painted wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Hey,” I say to him. “When did you get here?”

  “We need to talk,” he responds. Based on the tick in his clenched jaw, I’m guessing he’s figured out Quincey’s working for me and wants to know why I didn’t tell him.

  “Come on,” I say with a nod of my head to the right. “I’ll show you my new apartment. We can talk up there.”

  Ian pushes off the wall and lowers his arms to follow me to the stairway door I keep locked, an upgrade from my last loft. I pull out my keys from my pocket to let us in and then jog up the hardwood staircase that opens up in my sprawling loft with his footsteps following behind me.

  “Nice, right?” I ask Ian once he clears the stairs. A grunt is his response as his eyes do a quick sweep of the open floor plan. The interior is done up in red, black and white everything, from the red sofa to the black appliances and the massive bed covered in white linens. You can see it all from the stairs, but there’s a ton of space and I love the roomy feel of it.

  “So, what’s up?” I ask when I go over and plop down on the sofa, happy to have a minute to relax my shoulders and back that already feel stiff from working to set up the studio since seven this morning.

  Ian stays standing but comes over to tower above me. “Why didn’t you tell me Quincey was working for you or that you were inking her tits?”

  “I didn’t ink her tits. I inked her ribs, and she took it like a champ,” I inform him. “And we’ve been busy.”

  “Bullshit,” he huffs.

  “Fine,” I say on a sigh. “I didn’t want you hovering over her, putting pressure on her before she has a chance to even get comfortable. You’re a little intense, you know?”

  “You’ve been fucking her.” He doesn’t ask it as a question but makes it a statement.

  “No, I haven’t. Not since the day you caught us going at it. But I want to,” I admit. “It was nearly impossible to keep my hands and mouth off of her when I was working on her tat and she was lying topless on my chair. But I knew you would flip out if I did, so I resisted.”

  “You think?” he grunts.

  “No, I know. So I didn’t.”

  “And that’s it? Nothing else you’re keeping from me?”

  “I wasn’t keeping that from you! If you had come by yesterday or the day before to see me, you would’ve seen her here too.”

  “Why did she change her mind about working for you?”

  “Because I made a good argument. I told you I met up with her and talked to her about everything. That night, she showed up here wanting me to give her the iris tattoo I drew for her.”

  “You should’ve told me,” he says.

  “You need to give her some time. I’m making progress with her, proving to her that me and her can be friends and that I’m not a jealous asshole. When you’re around, you make that sort of thing difficult because I see you and I want to fall to my knees and suck you dry.”

  That comment knocks some of the anger off of his face, and finally he sits down on the sofa, but not close enough for our legs to touch.

  “So you’re saying I’m coming on too strong, and if I want to prove I’m about more than sex, I should back off?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “And you think she’ll stick around if I don’t pressure her?”

  “Yeah, I do, actually,” I tell him. “We have more to offer than our dicks. You have more to offer. So, let’s go slow and see what happens.”

  “And I can’t fuck you until Quincey’s all in?”

  “Nope.”

  “But you won’t fuck her without me there either?” he asks.

  “I won’t,” I tell him. “You’ve got to learn to trust us or you’ll lose your mind, fly off the handle, and screw everything up.”

  “I know,” he says on a heavy exhale as his fingers tap out a rhythm on the leather cushion. “It’s not easy, though.”

  “It’ll get easier, and I promise it’ll be worth it.”

  “I thought I liked you better when you just sucked my dick and didn’t talk back,” Ian informs me. “But now I think I like it better when you make me work for it.”

  “Me too,” I reply with a grin. “And just to warn you, the next time I suck your dick I’m going to be fucking Quincey at the same time.”

  Ian throws his head back against the sofa and groans while adjusting the growing bulge in the front of his jeans. “Yeah, boy scout, that’ll be worth waiting for.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Ian

  It’s been a month since I’ve had sex with Gabriel and longer than that since the last time I was with Quincey. I’m losing my damn mind.

  Still, the three of us are making progress, building trust and getting to know each other better before we hop in the sack again. I just don’t understand why we can’t do those kinds of things in bed.

  The three of us have even been going on dates together whenever our busy schedules allow it. Tonight, Gabriel and I are sitting in a booth at the local Italian res
taurant; Gabriel in his suit and red tie, minus his cut, and me in my cut, a white tank underneath and torn jeans. We’re like complete opposites sitting across from each other, a fake candle flickering between us while we wait for our woman.

  And we’ve been sitting alone for thirty minutes, having a beer while catching up on each other’s day.

  “She’s not coming,” Gabriel says while his eyes lower to the menu that he’s probably memorized by now.

  “She’s coming,” I grumble. “I bet she just couldn’t find anywhere to park. This is why she should’ve let me pick her up.”

  My phone dings from inside my cut pocket, so I pull it out, knowing it’s Quincey.

  Her message says, Can’t make it but I bet you two make a cute couple! Enjoy dinner.

  She’s full of shit because I know she’s not at work if Gabriel’s not at the shop, so why couldn’t she join us?

  “What did she say?” Gabriel asks.

  “She’s not coming.”

  “I knew it!” he says. “We should’ve ordered already, and then the food would be here by now.”

  “You want to leave and pick something up on the way home?” I ask him. Now it just feels weird, being on a date with just him. We’ve never done that before out in public like this.

  “Do you?” he asks, meeting my gaze and most likely aware of my inner turmoil. There’s also a look in his dark eyes that says if I grow a pair and keep my ass in my chair that he’ll reward me for my courage later.

  “I’m hungry,” I respond, deciding to tough it out. “Let’s order.”

  After I call the waiter over to take our order down, I lean back in the booth to get comfortable, taking another sip from my bottle of beer.

  Gabriel just stares sullenly out the window into the darkness like he hates the fact that I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second about staying if he had stood me and Quincey up.

  But I’m making progress, trying to remind myself that I shouldn’t feel different about being alone in public with him. Which is why I say fuck it and reach across the table to cover his hand with mine.

  That has his head whipping around. “What are you doing?” he asks, glancing around at the other patrons in the restaurant but not pulling away.

  “I wanted to touch you,” I admit. “I always want to touch you, and it’s been a long fucking time since I’ve had a chance to do it.”

  He finally relaxes and flashes me a crooked smile. “So, what are we going to do about Quincey standing us up?”

  “I don’t know. What do you think we should do?”

  Grinning broader, he says, “I think we should punish her.”

  I love that he says we, like we’re in this together.

  “Oh yeah?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “What about taking time to get to know each other?” I remind him.

  “You have no idea how hard it is to be around her all day and not be able to touch her,” he tells me, and I think he means it, that he wants to be with her as much as I do. “She’s so beautiful and sweet to everyone. The clients love her, and I just want to drag her upstairs and fuck her on every surface.”

  “She’s hard to resist,” I agree with a grin. “So are you. If you hadn’t moved to your loft, I would’ve been sneaking in your bed every night.”

  “I’m not that far away,” he says.

  That has me pulling my hand back across the table. “No, but if one of the guys see me over there at night…I wasn’t sure if you were ready to tell them all yet.”

  “I think I am. I mean, if you are,” he adds. “Abe, Chase, Torin, Sax and Dalton already know. I figure the rest of the guys probably have an idea.”

  “I just don’t want them to treat us differently,” I explain. “Like think we want to fuck them too,” I say and then think about it for a second. “I never have thought about them that way, but what about you?”

  “What about me?” Gabe asks.

  “Have you ever wanted to be with any of the other Kings?”

  “No,” he replies. Grinning, he adds, “You’re the only straight guy I stupidly pined away for.”

  I take another sip of my beer and then start peeling the label off with my fingernail. “Maybe my dad knew I would end up with a man before I did,” I tell Gabriel, finally owning up to the fact that I still hear his words inside my head every damn day.

  “How’s that?” he asks.

  “He used to call me a fag when I was a kid, along with other various versions of the insult when I sucked at sports or did something he didn’t think was manly enough. Nikki, the girlfriend of mine he knocked up, well, we were both virgins and were going to wait until we got married,” I tell him. “When I found out she was pregnant, I knew right away it wasn’t mine because it was impossible to conceive the way we had been fooling around. I’ll never forget what my dad said after Nik finally admitted that it was his and I confronted him. He told me I should’ve taken her virginity like a man instead of fucking her like a faggot, then maybe the kid would’ve been mine instead of his.”

  “Jesus, Ian,” Gabe mutters. “No wonder you beat the shit out of him, not just for what he did with her but for saying that crap to you. He should’ve apologized for being a dick and felt awful about it.”

  “He didn’t. It was like he was proud of hurting me and wanted to rub it in my face. Like it wasn’t bad enough that the girl I loved didn’t think I was enough and wanted to be with him instead.”

  Now Gabriel reaches across the table to put his hand on my forearm. “You know I wouldn’t ever try to take Quincey away from you, right?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I know,” I say just before our waiter clears his throat, causing Gabe to quickly pull his hand away from me.

  “Your entrées should be out shortly, gentlemen,” he tells us before hurrying off with his nose wrinkled.

  “Don’t do that,” Gabriel says. “Don’t worry about what he thinks about us. His opinion doesn’t fucking matter. He probably didn’t like us from the second we walked in the door because of that leather cut.”

  “Sure,” I agree.

  “What do you say we take our food to go and head over to Quincey’s new place?” he suggests. “You need to get laid before you explode.”

  “You think she’s up for it?”

  “Oh yeah. She won’t be able to resist,” he promises.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Quincey

  Gabriel’s text comes in about ten minutes before I hear a pair of motorcycles rumbling outside my first-floor apartment.

  My hot as hell boss’s message was short and sweet, Ian needs us tonight. You up for visitors?

  I didn’t have to think twice about my response before sending, Hell yes.

  For the past few weeks, I’ve been working and hanging out with both guys who have, unfortunately, kept their hands to themselves.

  And based on Ian’s increasing crankiness each day, I think they’ve had their hands off of each other too.

  The three of us have dinner together at least twice a week and usually a lunch somewhere along the way. We’ve been bingeing comedies and watching football games together in Gabriel’s loft most nights while his big bed lurks in the distance, remaining completely untouched.

  Despite our mutual agreement to take things slow and get to know each other, before Gabriel’s text I was starting to wonder if the two men had changed their minds and no longer wanted me.

  If not for the loud thumping music coming from my upstairs neighbor, I would probably be able to hear my own pulse hammering out of control as I rushed around my new apartment, taking a lightning fast shower, fixing my hair, applying some vanilla lotion to every inch of my skin, and touching up my makeup, all while making sure the place is spotless since neither man has been over here yet.

  I’m at the door, yanking it open before they finish knocking.

  “Hey,” I say in a breathless greeting at the two sexy men in leather standing on my doorstep, each with a plastic bag in their h
and.

  “Are you sick?” Ian asks without moving a muscle.

  “Huh? No. Why?”

  “Did someone die?” Gabriel follows up.

  “No. Not that I know of.”

  “So, you didn’t have a good reason for standing us up?” Ian asks, and I finally understand their line of questioning.

  “I just thought you two would enjoy a nice dinner alone together,” I explain.

  “Here,” Ian says, handing his bag to Gabriel. “Put the food in the fridge while I undress her for her spanking.”

  “My spanking?” I repeat with a scoff. But then I’m being lifted off my feet and thrown over Ian’s shoulder. As he carries me back through the apartment, his hands drag my pajama bottoms down my ass so he can give my bare cheeks a hard smack.

  “Ow!” I cry out at the sting even though my panties are already getting damp.

  “Don’t worry, baby girl. We’ll kiss it better,” Ian tells me before I’m tossed onto my mattress with a bounce. He grabs my bottoms and pulls them the rest of the way off while I yank my top over my head and toss it to the floor.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Ian says in approval once I’m sitting in the middle of my bed naked. He strips his clothes off before Gabriel even catches up with us. When he comes into the room, his dark eyes take in Ian’s naked form crawling up on the bed before they land on me.

  “Your turn to spank her ass, boy scout,” Ian informs the other man. He grabs me by my waist to pull me on top of him so that I’m straddling his legs on my hands and knees. Ian holds my hips while Gabriel’s palm lands with a loud whap on my right cheek, then my left. After he’s finished, his palm molds to my pussy and applies pressure as it rubs me a few times before two of his fingers slip inside of me.

  “She’s so fucking wet for us,” Gabriel reports back to Ian as he pumps his fingers in and out of my pussy. “Feel her,” he encourages Ian when he, unfortunately, pulls his fingers free.

  Instead of using his fingers, Ian guides the head of his cock to my entrance and slips just the first few inches in, stretching me in the best way as I gasp above him.