Craving Control (Black Shamrocks MC Book 6)

by Kylie Hillman

  She’s not going to be as easy as first thought.

  Time for the big guns.

  Leaves and small sticks are stuck to the back of my shirt, which I turn to show her. “Or I will be, if you’d be kind enough to get this crap off my back for me.”

  I recover from my earlier disenchantment when I feel Madelaine’s hand trembling as she runs it over my back from my shoulders down to my hips. Her angel status is driven home by her prudish avoidance of my lower back.

  Damned if I’m not going to enjoy ruining her innocence.

  “All done.” Two simple words are all I get out of her when she’s finished. I’d be certain my newest tactic hadn’t worked and would be searching for another approach if I hadn’t caught the breathless catch in her voice at the end.

  When I turn to face her again, I make sure my lady-killer smile is safely tucked away. Madelaine needs a dose of my boyish charm to settle her skittishness. A beguiling grin settles in place. It’s fake—completely for show. I’m the most dangerous person this girl is going to encounter in her life. She just doesn’t need to know that yet.

  Madelaine’s answering smile is forced. Her face blazes red after her embarrassment makes it way up her slender neck—and I promise myself that one day very soon, I’m going to be tracing that path with my tongue … and then my teeth.

  She gives me a jerky nod goodbye before turning to leave.

  Not so fast, little girl. I’m not finished with you yet.

  I seize hold of her upper arm and pull her back to me. A puzzled gaze meets mine, her plump lips pressing together in a tight line that telegraphs her discomfort.

  “You’re Madelaine O’Brien, aren’t you?” As I speak, I let my dark brown eyes drill into her blue orbs with an intensity that takes her past discomfort and right into annoyance. I expected Madelaine to wilt under my probing, but she doesn’t. Instead, her shoulders straighten, and she openly glares at me. Apparently, Madelaine has more spine than it appears at first glance. I file that knowledge away for future reference.

  With a curt shrug, she yanks her arm out of my grip. I feign hurt at her reaction, then watch her face. Nothing changes. Madelaine simply nods her head to indicate that I have her name correct.

  Again, I try to break down her defences. “You’re Benji’s sister?”

  “That's me. I prefer to be called Maddi, though.” Her answer is short, but her expression softens at my mention of her brother. Inwardly, I celebrate. We have identified Maddi’s first soft spot. “I’m actually his twin, even though no one can tell.”

  She laughs as she plays with her hair. Her twin is as dark as she is fair, however they’re not as unalike as she pretends. Their bone structure is identical, as is their above-average height, and exceptional good looks. The main difference is that Benji is very aware of his blessings while Maddi appears to be oblivious.

  “I’m Brendan Taylor. I’ve seen you around, but you don’t come to parties like Benji does, so I’ve never officially met you. Even though I've been dying to.” I lay it on thick, ending my introduction with a wink and holding my hand out to her.

  Seizing on the opportunity offered by the slight change in her demeanour, I unleash my panty-melting smile and flirtatious charm. My reward is the confusion that clouds her eyes. Maddi takes hold of my hand and shakes it. My teeth grind as I fight to hide my reaction to the charge that her touch sends through me. A sense of victory courses the same path as the electricity when I spy her eyes widening and I realise that she feels it as much as I do.

  This knowledge is confirmed when Maddi tries to drop my hand like it’s on fire. With perverse humour, I smile as I hold tight and prolong the handshake. Maddi stops trying to remove her hand from my grip which leaves us holding hands.

  Her awkward attempt to break the tension that I’m deliberately creating is adorable.

  “Nice to officially meet you. I don’t really party that often. I’m surprised you’re at the same parties as Benji. Aren’t you a little old for that scene…” Maddi trails off at the end.

  Heat travels from her neck to her cheeks again. My angelic little victim is proving to be judgmental and prudish—and it’s my new mission to fuck it right out of her. By the time I’m finished with her, she won’t have a critical bone in her bountiful body because she’ll have had my cock jammed in every hole she possesses. Marking her. Moulding her. Discarding her.

  Breaking her spirit will be an added bonus to the humiliation heaped on Benji’s head when I make it known that his precious sister is the latest indentation in my overburdened bedhead.

  My depraved musings are camouflaged by my laughter. I make it clear that I’m laughing at her lack of filter, and not with her, Instantly, her beautiful face turns a darker shade of red.

  “Yes, I suppose I am. I’m twenty-two. There’s not much for me to do around here since I’ve finished university. I actually organise most of the parties now that I’m living back here full time. You should come to the next one. I'll look after you any time you want. Give you anything you want.” I wink at her once more, fighting the urge to take her somewhere and screw her senseless when her cheeks flare into a deeper shade of scarlet.

  “I'll keep that in mind.” Maddi shuffles her feet, then meets my eyes with a steely resolve that won’t be there by the time I’m finished with her. “Anyhow, it was nice to meet you, but I need to get going. It’s nearly midnight and I want to catch up with my friends before the fireworks.”

  When I’m ready—which is after I’ve affected a bow and planted a kiss on the back of her hand—I let her take her hand out of mine. “It was a pleasure having you run into me. I really hope you take me up on my offer. I think we could have a lot of fun together.”

  The fake smile she plasters on her face tells me that she’s close to giving into the urge to ask me if I’m serious. In the spirit of fair play—or unfair, as this case may be—I leave her hanging.

  “Have a good night, Brendan.” The breathless way she says my name has it ringing in my ears as she spins on her heel and walks faster than necessary toward the restrooms.

  Hugo shakes his head when he approaches once Maddi is out of sight. “Bad luck, BT. Looks like she’s not interested.”

  “You need to leave.” My voice is harsh when I speak. My friend takes a step away from me, shock in his expression. “I’m about to put phase two into action.”

  “Phase two?” he asks.

  I point at the front of the town hall where everyone is gathering for the fireworks that Maddi mentioned. “Why don’t you wait out there and watch the master at work?”

  “Dude, she looks like a nice girl.” Hugo raises an uncustomary objection. “And, you know that Benji’ll kill you if you mess with his sister. He’s already after you for spiking his drink the other night.”

  Snorting as I bellow with laughter, I have to bend in half when my mirth becomes uncontrollable. Seriously? He chooses now to grow a conscience? Once I have control of my reaction to his sensible reasoning, I answer him. “Do you think I care if Benji comes after me? Let him explain his positive methylamphetamines test and his violent tendencies to any of the footy clubs that come to scout him.”

  With one eye on the restrooms for Maddi, I usher Hugo toward the front of the hall. If I had enough time, I’d set him straight on his ridiculous worries about Benji. I’m not scared of Benji’s reaction, I welcome it. Whatever it takes, I’m ruining his chance at a professional football career. If I can’t have my dream, why the hell should he?

  The lights that illuminate the town hall are switched off in preparation of the fireworks. Darkness descends, plunging the deserted area where I wait into pitch-black. My position is hidden. Just like I wanted.

  A dangerous lick of anticipation runs the length of my body when I see Maddi emerge from the restrooms. She’s redone her hair, the golden locks that had fallen free during our collision have been smoothed back into the bun that she wears on top of her head. I wonder what she’d look like with it down, wa
ves of burnished silk flowing around her shoulders and down her back. Those thoughts take me down a more sexual path and I try to imagine how her hair would feel wrapped around my wrist while I pump myself inside her flawless body.

  A tiny sigh interrupts my lust, and I become aware that Maddi hasn’t left the yard. She’s two metres away from me, leaning against the cinder block wall with her face tilted toward the sky. My expectation was for Maddi to make her way through the dark night to her friends and family. I was planning on intercepting her before she could get to them which I considered prudent considering her father’s a goddamn psycho and the Vice President of an outlaw biker club—the infamous Black Shamrocks MC.

  Waiting, I mimic the angle of Maddi’s head, only I’m not looking for bursts of colour that are about to fill the sky. No, I’m thanking whichever dark Lord has my contemptible interests on their agenda. Because having this gorgeous girl choose to willingly separate herself from the crazy males in her family is a definite sign that someone up there is looking out for me.

  “Three, two, one. Happy New Year!” The countdown to the dawning of the brand-new year is shouted through a megaphone. The night sky fills with a kaleidoscope of colour and the loud banging and whistling of the fireworks disguises my approach from my unsuspecting victim.

  With unyielding hands, I trap her between the wall and my body. Pausing for two seconds, I let myself luxuriate in her scent—roses, vanilla, and enticing innocence—and then I kiss her.

  My movements are sure, unheeding of her stiffening frame. I push my tongue between her lips when she gasps and plunder the inner recesses of her mouth, smiling when Maddi’s knee lifts ready to take out my family jewels. Her reaction makes me grin. She doesn’t know who I am, exactly how big I am, what I’m capable of doing to her—yet she’s ready to take defending herself into her own hands.

  Did I call her untouched perfection? I miscalculated. She may be untouched by the hands of man, but she’s not a pushover. I sense a wildness that’s going to be almost too much fun to break. Each time I peel back another layer of her personality, she proves to be more challenging than initially predicted.

  This girl is going to become addictive if I’m not careful.

  My muscles tense, ready to keep Maddi under control if she decides to use that knee on me. I’m not certain what makes her lower it, but I can’t say I’m not surprised when her body loosens, and she leans back against the building.

  I pull my lips from her’s and whisper, “Happy New Year, Maddi.”

  A sigh is the only response I receive for a long, drawn-out moment, until with a murmur that has my cock trying to escape my pants, Maddi returns my sentiments.

  “Happy New Year, Brendan.”

  That sentence is all I need. It’s confirmation that I have her where I want her.

  Maddi O’Brien just conceded defeat in the first battle in a war she doesn’t know she’s fighting.

  My movements appear coaxing, suggesting that she has a say in how this is going to play out. They aren’t. It’s simply the start of my next game. Now that I’ve made Maddi accept my proximity, it’s time to make her believe that what happens next is her idea. I use my strength to move her unwilling arms around my neck, then I pull her soft curves against me. All stiffness has left her. She is pliable, both in body and emotion.

  I feel a shudder run the length of her frame when I kiss her again. This time, she is a willing participant. Her tongue touches mine. Timid. Tentative. Testing. Inexperience evident in every move she makes.

  The lights in the yard are switched back on, the bulb directly above us illuminates her blonde hair in such a way that it resembles a halo. Maddi pauses, but I don’t let her go. Instead, I distract her with my touch, making sure that she’s paying little mind to who can see us, and once I’m certain that everyone who counts—Hugo and my father—has seen us, I let her go.

  An emptiness invades my veins at her absence. I push the feeling away and smile at the beautiful woman I’ve now branded as mine. The flush on her cheeks, the redness around her lips from my kiss, awakens a ferocity in me that is foreign.

  I don’t want to let her go. If I had my way, she’d be thrown over my shoulder and whisked away from every other person who inhabits this earth.

  Strategically, what I do next is completely wrong.

  But it’s the only thing that tames the monster in my gut who’s trying to rear his head.

  I bite Maddi’s shoulder. It takes every ounce of the control that I pride myself on possessing to stop myself from sinking my teeth through the thin cotton of her shirt and into her skin until it breaks. The urge to taste her blood until she accepts that she belongs to me is overwhelming.

  I swallow it down and stake my claim verbally instead.

  “You're so beautiful, and you're going to be all mine. I’m going to make sure of it.” This is the last thing I say to her tonight because I walk away before she can answer.

  As I go, the voice in my head screams at me, yelling that I’ve made a fatal error. I should have kept her with me. In an attempt to calm myself, I watch my unsuspecting victim throughout the rest of the evening, and I’m eventually able to push that worry aside with the sight of Maddi regularly pressing her fingers against her lips like she can still feel my touch.

  It’s evident that she feels branded by me and that’s a victory of the best kind.

  TWO

  “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” My mother screeches once the butler has shut the front door behind me.

  Her gin sloshes over the sides of her martini glass and she stares at the splashes the liquor has made on the marble floor with more longing and love than she’s ever given me. With a weary sigh, I pass my jacket to Stanley, nodding once when he fleetingly meets my eyes. The wry smile that I exchange with the butler before he hangs my jacket says it all.

  Here we go again. Louisa Taylor is drunk as a skunk and ready to pick apart every move her only son made during his interactions with the local plebs tonight.

  I try to skirt the mess she’s made on the floor. Of course, letting me pass without an argument would be too much to ask of her. My mother takes hold of my wrist and tugs me to a stop. I could easily overpower her and keep moving. I don’t. Because she’ll not only follow me to my wing of the mansion, but the length of her alcohol-induced diatribe will increase exponentially with each extra step I force her to take.

  “What now?” My eyes narrow to slits and she warps in my vision. I let the full force of my displeasure show in both my gaze and my tone when I finally give her the attention she’s demanding. The hurt in her expression used to prick at my conscience—now it simply pisses me off. At home, my mother is a pathetic caricature of the woman she pretends to be when we’re in public. The perfectly coiffed hair-do she wore tonight is now a quickly disintegrating rats’ nest on her head, her eye makeup is smeared down her cheeks, and her gaze is glassy from the liquor she’s poured down her throat. My mother uses a trembling hand to smooth her hair after she catches on to my thoughts. Then she licks her lips, and the tirade begins.

  “I want to know what you were doing kissing that girl?”

  Hmmm, it would seem that I had more witnesses to my rebellion than first assumed. The differences between Maddi and my mother are driven home when the woman who birthed me spills more of her drink when she attempts to take a sip. The blonde beauty I kissed tonight is a breath of fresh air compared to the vile people who currently inhabit my life.

  “That’s none of your business.” My reply is intended to cut. I want her to hurt. “I can see whomever I choose until it’s time to inherit. Grandfather made that very clear.”

  The mention of her tyrant of a father has my mother’s eyes darting around the foyer as if she expects him to appear out of nowhere. The spectre of my grandfather looms large in this palatial house, even though he hasn’t set foot in the premises since my parents wedding. He passed the mantle of ownership to my father that day and what was my mother’s
childhood home quickly became the tomb that encases my parent’s crumbling façade of a marriage.

  Why two people who loathe each other as much as they do continue to keep up the ruse of marital bliss is beyond me. Well, not entirely. Money and power make for familiar bedfellows. My mother wants to keep her share of her family money while my father is addicted to the power that staying married to the current Fitzgerald heir brings him.

  “Bravo. Bravo.” The devil himself walks through the entrance of this monument to the wealth that will be mine someday. He claps his hands, slow and mocking. A face that is an older replica of my own is screwed up in comedic rendition of a father who is proud. An outsider would buy his display. My mother and I don’t—we know that he’s never pleased.

  Not with us, at least.

  “It was quite a sight. My son slumming it with the daughter of the local biker trash.” Dad’s lips twist into a grimace. “You gave the gossips plenty to talk about. My ears have been burning all night.”

  I step away from my mother. She is now a statue, wilting under the incredible tension that my father’s appearance brings to the room. With my arms crossed over my chest, I arch an eyebrow in his direction. “They’re probably burning from all the gossip over your puppy dog like behaviour around Wendy.”

  When his face turns a scorching scarlet that telegraphs his growing rage, I continue, “Why yes, Wendy. Let me take those trays from you. Of course, Wendy, I’d be happy to donate to the fund for the new children’s playground.”

  My mocking has even the tips of his ears reddening. The explosion that I know is coming doesn’t stop me. I relish making him lose control while I keep my equilibrium. He hates it—which is all the more reason to keep winding him up. “Honestly, Dad? Don’t you think it’s a bit rich for you to lecture me when you’re unable to contain your drooling around your ex-girlfriend?”