My fuckin’ bike.
Finally.
“Brother,” Drifter says.
He takes my hand before hugging me, slapping me on the back.
“Good to be fuckin’ outta there,” I murmur, stepping away from him, clasping hands with Dirty Johnny and then Sniper.
They all tell me they’re glad to have me back.
Then, Drift hands me my cut and I slide it on.
Fucking hell.
So good.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here and get you home, brother,” Drifter says.
I can’t agree more.
I climb onto my bike and start her up. She rumbles between my thighs and I take off.
Freedom.
Fuck.
Finally.
It’s a fuckin’ trek home back to Bonners Ferry, Idaho. Eight hours, but we make it in seven, hauling ass and not giving a shit because I am finally free.
When we arrive at the clubhouse, I’m not shocked to see a party already in full force. There’s pussy and brothers everywhere.
I’m welcomed by the entire club, and a beer is immediately thrust into my hand.
Someone tries to give me a joint, but I don’t take it. I’m on parole for twelve months, including random drug tests.
Beer is one thing, green in my system? Nope.
“Where’s she at?” I ask Sniper when he slides up to me at the bar.
“Didn’t want to be rejected or some shit. Scared to be here waiting for you. Said she’d see you once you’d settled in,” he informs me. I nod.
Kentlee is nervous, scared even, and I don’t blame her. Three years is a long time to go without contact, and she’s been completely on her own.
Sniper tells me her brother has only come to town once, and it was a complete clusterfuck.
Apparently, her parents tried to sway him to their side. It didn’t go over too well.
Now, he stays away from town, but calls her regularly to check in.
My conscience is telling me to go and find my woman—to fuck her into the mattress, to remind her who owns her.
Remind her who her man is.
But I need to calm my ass down a little. I can’t run to her. If I do, what kind of weak ass bitch do I look like in front of my men?
“Well, then—let’s fuckin’ party,” I say with a wide smile, pretending like it isn’t killing me to stay away from her.
Sniper shakes his head, shooting me a look of sheer disappointment.
Yeah, well he can shove his disappointment up his fuckin’ ass.
“Hey, let’s go down to Devils, show the Pres the club,” Bull cries out.
Everybody cheers. I’ve had updates on the club from Sniper. It’s making a fuckin’ mint, and it’s a great place to have parties.
Tits and Ass? I’m down.
There’s only one body I want my hands on, but I’m not fuckin’ blind. I need to look as though I’m single for my boys.
Until I decide what exactly I’m going to do with Kentlee.
If I’m going to make her my Old Lady or continue to keep her separate from the life.
“Sure you don’t want to go back home?” Sniper asks. I shake my head.
“I want a clear head for Kentlee. I’ll see her in the morning,” I say.
I should want to go over there to see he. I do, but this, my brothers, this is what I need right now.
It’s late and Kentlee is no doubt asleep. So is Bear, I’m sure.
I don’t want to disrupt their routine. God knows my presence alone will probably cause my feisty Kentlee to come out, and we’ll end up in some kind of fight.
I also don’t want to see the look of disgust and disappointment on her face, aimed straight at me.
I know she probably hates me. I know she’s probably going to tell me to go fuck myself. I can’t have that tonight. I can’t handle it.
“You should see this one cocktail waitress. Fuck, she’s stacked, and the ass on her makes me fuckin’ weep. Been beggin’ her to dance, but she refuses. I’ll wear her ass down one of these days, though,” Bull rambles as we make our way inside of the club.
It’s fucking insane.
It’s crowded, and there are three stages with dancers all around, plus waitresses and dancers on the floor.
It’s everything I pictured when I rented the space.
A feeling of pride and gratitude wash over me at seeing my idea come to fruition. I can’t keep the smile off of my face.
Sniper outdid himself.
Without him, this wouldn’t be what it is. My vision has come to light and, thanks to him, it didn’t just vanish and rot away with me in prison.
I follow my brothers over to a table that’s marked reserved in front and center. Bull informs me that it’s always reserved for Notorious Devils.
Sniper wanted to make sure any member that wanted a seat always had the best one in the house.
I laugh, shaking my head. My long hair hangs in my face. It’s buggin’ the shit out of me, so I quickly put it in a bun at the top of my head.
I haven’t got around to cutting it. It was my little bit of rebellion in hell.
“Where’s that hot bitch you were tellin’ me about?” I ask Bull.
He nudges me, lifting his chin behind me.
I turn around and my eyes scan the figure walking toward me. She’s got on bright red, fuck me high heels and bare, long lean legs.
She’s wearing tiny little black shorts that are high on her slim waist, hips—holy fuck, her hips are curvy.
My mouth waters.
My eyes continue to her tits, and fuck me, my dick hardens at the sight of them in the little bra she’s wearing as a top. Then I scan her face and I—see—red.
Kentlee.
Kentlee is a fucking cocktail waitress.
In a strip club.
In MY strip club.
She walks closer, and as I stand, her eyes stop on me and her steps falter.
I watch as the color drains from her gorgeous face before she freezes. The guys are whooping and hollering for her, but she’s frozen in place, staring at me.
I can’t look away.
I’m so fucking pissed, but I’m so fucking turned on all at the same time.
I thought my attraction might have dwindled, like maybe I imagined her being prettier, sexier, and hotter than she really was.
I figured I built her up in my mind. Sure I had pictures of her, but nothing compares to the woman standing across from me.
After three years, she’s standing in front of me, and she looks like a goddamn wet dream.
She looks tough, badass, and like a dirty little slut; but still manages to ooze sweet innocence.
A dirtied up angel.
“Fury,” Sniper grunts behind me.
I don't acknowledge him.
I can’t take my eyes off of her.
Oh, I’ll be having words with Sniper later. I’ll be beating the shit out of him for allowing the mother of my child to work here, wearing what she’s wearing.
But right now, my cock is so fucking hard for her, I can’t think of anything else but burying myself inside of her perfect pussy.
“I need your office,” I grind out.
He places a key in my hand with a chuckle.
I take the four strides that I need to plant myself in front of Kentlee. I can smell her cherry blossom scent I’m so close, but I don’t say a word.
Instead, I bend down and stick my shoulder in her stomach before I lift her and carry her away.
“Pierce,” she gasps.
It goes straight to my dick.
Lucky for me, the office isn’t too far away.
I unlock the door before setting her down inside. I kick it closed with my boot before I turn to lock us in.
Kentlee is standing where I dropped her, on her come fuck me, red high heels, her hands twisted in each other, and her eyes downcast.
She’s scared and she fucking should be.
“The fuck you think
you’re doin’ here?” I bark.
I watch as her back straightens and her head snaps up.
“Working,” she snorts with pure attitude dripping off of her.
“See that, but that don’t answer my question. Why in the fuck are you working in a place like this?” I yell, meaner and louder than I intend.
“The only way your club would help me was to employ me here. It was either dance or waitress. I chose waitress,” she says, crossing her arms.
It pushes her perfect tits up, almost spilling them out of the nonexistent top she’s wearing.
“Why here? Why not your job at Walker’s office?” I ask, trying to focus on the conversation and not my straining cock.
“I can’t support a baby—by myself—working minimum wage, Pierce. I wouldn’t have been able to afford daycare for full-time work; let alone all the overtime I would have had to work.
“Bates helped me out by giving me this job. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to stay in our house. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to afford diapers,” she says softly. It pisses me off.
It’s my fault she’s showing off her tits and ass for money.
I hate it.
“Sniper could have floated you until I got out. I assumed that’s what he was doin’, anyway. He knew I was good for it. All my club earnings have just been sittin’ in the safe. Why’re you out here looking like a whore?” I ask.
Her eyes widen before they narrow on me. I’m being an asshole, but this is my sweet Kentlee, she isn’t some club whore.
“Your club didn’t know who the fuck I was, Pierce. They wouldn’t take care of me and I’m not going to take any handouts from anybody.
“I’m an adult, I had to take responsibility for myself and for my baby. I had nobody. Bates helped me. He gave me this job, a job I work my ass off for, and earn my own money at.
“You think I want to dress like this and have guys grab my ass every night? You think this is how I saw my life going? You think I wanted to wonder where we stood for three fucking years?
“You think I wanted to raise a baby all on my own? Give birth to him by myself? Don’t you dare chastise me for putting food on the table, for paying rent, and for taking care of our baby,” she screams, her face going bright red.
I take a step toward her, unable to stop myself.
I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her to me. My lips crash down onto hers and I take them roughly.
I’m taking.
I’m not giving shit right now. She’s going to fucking accept it, too. I feel her small fists pound on my chest, for about a second, her body is stiff until my tongue slides out and traces the seam of her lips.
Then—she melts.
She melts for me like she did three years ago. Her hands slide up my chest and tangle in the nape of my hair. Her soft breasts press against my chest, and she moans.
I’m done for.
This woman is mine.
Chapter Twenty
KENTLEE
Pierce is kissing me.
The fucking asshole is kissing me and I love it.
I missed it.
I need it.
Words can’t describe how I felt the moment my eyes landed on him. I could see the shock, surprise, and then the fury cross over his face.
This is the last place he expected me to be and I couldn’t give a shit.
The attraction I feared was a figment of my imagination—was not.
My whole body ignited the second my eyes took in his face. I still want him, crave him.
He’s bigger and his hair, sweet heavens, it’s long and messy and wild and absolutely superb.
Admittedly, in the beginning, I felt ashamed to work in the Devils Club. At this point, I’ve come to accept that it’s my life.
How can I feel shame for putting food in my baby’s belly?
How can I feel shame for putting a roof over his head?
I can’t.
I’m not doing anything illegal and I keep my barely-there clothes fully in place—or at least I did until Pierce walked through the door.
Now, I wish they would disintegrate.
I moan into his mouth once his tongue invades mine. Firm, warm, and wet. My whole body feels as though it’s going to explode.
I press myself closer to him, needing more, needing everything he can give me.
It’s been so long since I’ve been touched.
Three years and one week almost to the day.
Pierce wrenches his mouth from mine as he trails hot kisses down the side of my throat, his tongue snaking out to taste my skin at the swell of my breast.
“Pierce,” I gasp when I feel his teeth bite down on my flesh.
“Strip for me. I want to see what I’ve been dreaming about for three long years,” he orders as he takes a step back from me.
I exhale a breath and slowly shimmy my little hot pants down my legs before I untie the strings of my top.
I’m completely naked, except for my high heels. I’m not a fool. The heels do wonders for my legs, but the rest of me isn’t as tight and sexy as it used to be, so I need all the help I can get.
I should be screaming at him, so pissed off at how he handled the past three years. How he abandoned us, refusing to communicate at all whatsoever.
But my body is too turned on to give an ounce of a fuck right now. All I can think about is how good his cock is going to be when it fills me full.
Pierce’s eyes scan my body and freeze on my scar, my C-section scar.
I move to cover it with my hands, hating how my belly isn’t flat there. It will probably never be.
I’ve done crunches, yoga, and pilates, but it’s not flat.
I gasp when his hands pull mine away and his finger traces the scar. It’s hairline thin, but it feels tingly when he touches it—a weird sensation that doesn’t seem like it will ever go away.
“Sniper didn’t tell me how the birth went,” he murmurs before he looks up at me.
I see his eyes are shining with unshed tears.
“He was big and my body couldn’t deliver him. After twenty hours, he needed to come out. It was the only way,” I admit, trying to keep my own tears at bay.
Pierce drops to his knees and kisses the middle of my scar, right above my pussy.
“Should have been there for you. I fucked up, baby girl. Can you forgive me?” he asks as he presses his forehead against my stomach.
I should tell him no.
I should tell him to fuck off.
I should tell him a lot of things.
What I shouldn’t do is wrap my fingers in his hair and gently pull his head back so that our eyes connect.
His gray eyes own me.
One glance and I’m his, always and forever.
I know this, so I shouldn’t look at him. I really shouldn’t take his hand and place it above my breast, near my heart.
Then, the last thing I should do is bare my soul to him.
But I do it anyway—I do it all.
“I’ve been sad, depressed, fucking angry, and disappointed over the past three years. But you own me. You own my heart. I’m yours, always. I’ll always forgive you, but don’t ever leave me like that again.”
I whisper the end because I can barely speak past the knot of emotions in my throat.
Pierce stands and lifts me by the backs of my thighs before he carries me to the sofa in the office. He lays me down and nestles his jean clad hips between my thighs.
“Never leaving you again, baby girl. You’re mine. Fuckin’ torture without you at my side,” he exhales.
Pierce‘s nose skims the side of mine, then moves down my neck to my breast.
I moan when his lips wrap around my nipple and his teeth graze the tightened bud.
I cry out when he sucks my breast into his mouth, and then it is as if a beast has been unleashed.
Pierce grabs the insides of my thighs roughly and yanks them apart.
I cry out when his mouth covers my puss
y and his tongue presses against my clit.
His fingers dig into the flesh of my legs, and I arch closer to him. He feels good.
God, his tongue feels like absolute heaven.
Pierce slides his tongue down through my core and inside of me. He fucks me with his glorious mouth.
My hands fly to his hair and I pull the tie out so that I can sink my fingers into his long, dark blonde locks.
When he closes his lips around my clit, and sucks, while he slides two fingers inside of me, I tighten my own fingers in his hair and pull him closer to me.
“Pierce,” I moan, loud and unabashedly.
I’ve missed him, his touch, and the way he makes me feel.
“Need inside,” he murmurs as he kisses up my stomach.
My pussy is pulsing. I need him inside, too. I’m so close to exploding. I feel his hands fumbling with his pants as I lick myself from his lips.
He groans before he slams inside of me. I wince at the intrusion. It’s been three years since I’ve had sex, and it fucking burns.
“Pierce,” I grind through my teeth. He looks down at me, his eyes a mix of lust and need.
“You okay?” he asks, his breathing heavy and uneven.
“You need to go slow for a minute,” I beg as tears leak from my eyes.
I feel his chest shake against me, but he doesn’t say a word. He slowly slides from my body before coming back inside.
I can see his restraint with every move he makes above me, and it causes me to fall in love with him just a little bit more.
I lift up my head and take his lips with mine. He doesn’t stop the slow push and pull.
When he grinds against my clit as he fully seats himself inside of me, I whimper.
His tongue invades my mouth in firm strokes, mimicking the way his cock glides in and out of me.
The pain is gone and now—now he feels so good.
God, I had forgotten.
How I could have forgotten this—I don’t know.
I lift one of my legs and he slides his arm underneath my knee to spread me wider for him.
I roll my hips up to meet his downward thrust and he rips his lips from mine, letting out a low moan.
“Harder, Pierce,” I beg.
He doesn’t ask me if I’m sure. He doesn’t second guess me. He does exactly what I beg of him.
He fucks me—hard.
My fingernails claw his back as my body climbs higher and higher toward my release. It’s too good—so fucking good.
The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet Page 19
