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Beecher: Wicked Throttle MC #4

Page 6

by Esther E. Schmidt


  “My love for you is greater than the universe that holds life itself. It’s what flows inside me with each breath expanding my lungs, flowing through my body and makes my heart beat in the only rhythm it knows; all because of you.”

  Where raunchy sex leads to hot and sweaty bodies, we embrace the tenderness of hot tears overflowing our senses while we allow ourselves and our bodies to reconnect. Physically and mentally there’s an indestructible understanding setting how the two of us were meant to be and will always have a solid connection.

  I slowly move up and down his length while we’re staring at each other. Pleasure is lighting up our bodies, electricity heightening the air surrounding us, spreading the warmth of our love as we chase the orgasm our bodies need to unload.

  “I can’t hold back much longer,” Shaw says in warning, not even the slightest indication he’s sorry. “You’re close, I can feel it. Are you going to give me your pleasure?”

  I rotate my hips and slam down harder, giving my clit the friction it needs to light up my body. My orgasm slams through me and tingles of ecstasy lick my veins while bright lights swamp my vision, forcing me to close my eyes and relish in the moment. I feel his dick growing harder, jetting out warmth as a groan of utter pleasure rips from his chest.

  “I have missed your beauty. It’s a fleeting moment in time created by us that mirrors the results of our bodies expressing our love with the flow of passion and pleasure. And it feels so fucking good. I feel fucking good. Damn, woman, you fixed me,” he says in awe.

  I’m staring at him and I can’t help the laughter ripping through me.

  His hand leaves mine but reaches out to cup the side of my face. “That face, that sound. The feel of my cock slipping out because your body is shaking with laughter. Fucking hell, there’s no better place than right here underneath you.”

  “Be prepared to spend a lot of time underneath me,” I tell him and lean into the warmth of his touch.

  There’s a moment of loss when our other hands disconnect but I suck in a harsh breath when his palm hits my ass.

  “Don’t believe for a second I’m handing my balls over for you to twist and turn. I will spank that sexy ass of yours and will take you in every position and might even slide my cock up your ass while finger-fucking your sweet pussy because you’re mine. And because you’re mine, I’m allowed to treat you with respect and love while also taking the same thing in return. Give and take. You and me have this whole thing mapped out.”

  “You and I,” I kindly correct him, making his eyes roll.

  “You and I, me and you. What-fucking-ever, the result is the same. There are mistakes and choices. A mistake is when you trip and fall, a choice is when you decide what to do and whatnot. Mistakes fucking happen, but the choices are ours and my choice will always be you from here on out.”

  “We’ve been tripping and falling for quite some time. But I promise you, from this day forward my choice will always be you.” I press a kiss against his welcoming mouth. “You and I, from here on out.”

  “Fuck, yeah,” he growls and the air rushes from my lungs when he flips us over, making him hover over me.

  He pushes up and grips his cock in his hand, squeezing and tapping it against my clit. It hardens under my gaze as he slides it back and forth between the lips of my pussy, already slick with the mixture of our juices.

  One of his arms hooks underneath my knee, opening me up for him to enter me at an angle to dive deep. We groan in sync. My nails dig into his back to urge him on. His hips start to roll, my body fills with heat and my breaths become shallow, craving another orgasm he’s dead set to rip from me.

  This is not about making love to make the other person feel precious. No. This is about a heated craving, lust, need. Pure and raw intensity to make sure we’re here together, alive and desperate to feed off the emotions the both of us have for one another.

  There is no slow and enjoying the moment, it’s a chase to grab hold of pleasure reachable within the next second. And it is. Hot jets burst free deep inside me, triggering my own orgasm as Shaw stills above me rumbling out an animalistic growl of pleasure. I watch in awe and relish in the cocoon of loving emotions he captures me with.

  Until he leans forward and connects our foreheads, whispering, “Love you so much.”

  I try to play it off with our emotions simmering at the surface. “Yeah, yeah, now stop saying it before you wear it out.”

  “Im-fucking-possible,” he growls in determination before he plunks down next to me. “But I am damn tired.”

  A giggle escapes me and I snuggle close against him.

  “You and your fucking hugs all the damn time,” Shaw mutters underneath his breath but pulls me closer against him to make sure I’m draped over his chest.

  “What was that?” I question.

  “I said you’re not close enough and I need you to be plastered against me all the damn time,” he easily supplies, making me swoon.

  We stay close the whole night and for the next couple of days it’s exactly how we spent most of our time together; in bed enjoying the closeness we reestablished. I am able to work out of the office for a little over two weeks, but today I have to head into the office for a meeting I can’t handle through a conference call.

  Pierre has been contacting me nonstop and even Shaw answering my phone and telling him in a harsh manner to back off didn’t stop Pierre from texting. But I guess he’s just doing his job, reminding me of the necessary appointments and other minor things I need to remember.

  Besides the job I gave him a long time ago, after Donald introduced us, he kinda became a friend. Unavoidable since he works close with me and is very friendly and easy to deal with. Besides, I already spanked and whipped him before he became my employee, it kinda makes it easier to connect on just a business level.

  But like I said, the last few weeks I’ve been out of the office and here at the clubhouse. Not to mention the stuff Deeds said, reminding me of who could have had it in for us. With Pierre being close with Donald it’s harder to fully trust both of them at this point.

  Shaw made it clear he didn’t want Pierre to come over and said we needed more than a few days without outside interference to let things settle and enjoy ourselves. Obviously, I agreed. And we did absolutely enjoy ourselves—and each other—but the time has come to get back to business.

  “Morgan is going to be your shadow. And don’t—” Shaw abruptly stops talking and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “This might sound crazy, but can you do me one favor?”

  I slide my foot into my heel and saunter toward him, making sure to sway my hips because I know how much he enjoys watching me. Sliding my arms around him I push myself against his body, feeling him inhale deep as he returns the hug.

  I can’t help it; I love to hug this man and relish in the safety he envelopes me with.

  “What’s the favor?” I question.

  He places his finger underneath my chin and forces me to look in his eyes. “Promise me you won’t be alone with either Pierre, Donald, or the pair of them at the same time. Better yet, always keep people around you.”

  Confusion hits me. “Why would Donald come to my office? He hasn’t in the past. And you know I have to face Pierre, right? He knows I’m coming in this morning, though I won’t be alone around him. Why the extra warning? Did you receive more information from Deeds? Any progression?”

  “No, I’m meeting him later today. I just don’t want you alone with those fuckers. Keep Morgan with you at all times and don’t leave the office. Call if you’re done and I’ll come pick you up. Humor me, okay? I need to know there are eyes on you at all times until we can really close this shit and put it behind us.”

  “Of course,” I instantly agree in understanding.

  He leans in and gives me a toe-curling kiss. “Behave,” he murmurs against my mouth before we head for the SUV Morgan is driving to escort me to work.

  Chapter Seven

  Beecher
r />   I’m still standing in the parking lot since Val just left with Morgan to head for work. On one hand, I’m glad she’s going back to work because she loves running her company. On the other hand, I hate letting her out of my sight knowing the shit in our past isn’t fully wrapped up. Even more when there might be a link with people in her direct surroundings.

  It’s the reason I had a long talk with Morgan to make sure he won’t leave her side and will keep me updated every hour. This will also allow me to focus on a meeting I have later today with Deeds.

  He called me yesterday about some concerns he had and wanted to talk things through. Deeds was waiting on some results along with some added information, that’s why I’m supposed to meet him later today.

  But I guess things changed since I hear and see four bikes heading this way. When they park their bikes, I recognize Deeds, his son, Archer, Deeds’ brother, Broke, and Broke’s son, Wyatt. Jeez, talk about a family business these guys got going on. Even more when you think about the fact both the future president, the future VP, and the current president and VP of Broken Deeds MC are standing in front of me. Fuck. I guess shit just hit the fan big time.

  The door of the clubhouse swings open behind me and Zerox, along with Corban and Barlow, stroll out.

  “You’re early,” Zerox says as he holds out his hand for Deeds to shake.

  There’s a routine of shaking hands before Deeds directs his attention to me. “This couldn’t wait. Wyatt found a loophole Donald created and were fairly sure he’s either tied to the people running the snuff film industry or he’s one of the main players. Hence the loophole comment because the fucker is good at erasing his actions.”

  “What’s his part in all of it?” I ask through clenched teeth, itching to get my hands on this fucker and rip him apart.

  “He was placed into the witness protection system when he turned on his brother,” Broke states.

  “Yeah,” Deeds snarls. “But we now believe that fucker only took the opportunity to rat on his brother to clear a path for him to solely run his fucked-up underground business since you two handled the other brother, Logan, and his wife, Dana. The law took out the other brother, allowing Donald to become the main player.”

  “So, you see,” Archer cuts in. “We believe Donald has a twisted hard on for your old lady. He has the one close who ended the brother he hated, and on some level controls her. You mentioned the whole thing with Pierre, right? This puts Donald in control, letting her do his bidding. Inflicting pain and shit at his command. This fucker is dangerous.”

  “But we’re here because us poking around, no matter how careful we were, set off his alarms. We have reason to believe he’s setting things in motion to go underground, lay low, and reset his life to continue his shit somewhere else with a new identity. Like how these fuckers have been able to move around the country and keep this horrific shit going,” Wyatt finishes and my fucking ears are flapping while a ringing echoes in my head.

  Are these fuckers for real? “You spooked them and now a valid threat puts my old lady at high fucking risk? You could have given us a little heads-up since it’s been over two weeks and my old lady had to swing by the office this morning. She left mere minutes ago with a prospect. I’m pretty damn sure Pierre would be there waiting for her at the office,” I snap and take my phone out of my pocket to call Val and ask for her to return to the clubhouse; she needs to hear this insanity.

  My heartbeat spikes when she doesn’t pick up the damn phone. I know she keeps it in her purse and sometimes she turns off the volume when she’s typing out emails. Which most times leads to her forgetting to turn the sound back on. But come the fuck on. All of this puts me on edge and I need eyes on her right now.

  “She’s not picking up,” I grumble underneath my breath.

  Zerox takes out his phone. “I’ll try Morgan. Even if he’s driving, the call will go through.” His eyes connect with mine. “The SUV is filled with high-tech shit, even bulletproof windows, you know this. They just left about fifteen minutes or so, right? They’re still driving. Keep calm, brother.”

  Keep calm, brother? Is he for real? “We were in my car just driving around when two vehicles caged us in and shot fucking darts at us, taking us out and next thing we know we wake up taped to chairs to endure days of torture. So, don’t fucking ‘they’re still driving and keep your calm’ bullshit me, brother.”

  “The line is busy,” Zerox grunts, ignoring my outburst. “You did hear me say bulletproof windows, right? So, unless they open a window or a door, no way can they shoot darts at them.”

  The door of the clubhouse swings open and Maci rushes toward us. “It’s Morgan! They are right behind him.”

  She holds out her phone and Morgan’s voice flows through the air, except he isn’t talking to us, he’s giving Val instructions. “You don’t come out, you hear me? They think you jumped out when you threw the sleeping bag out of the door. Stay there, fuck!”

  The sound of crunching metal disrupts the call but I’ve heard enough. I know exactly what route they took and I’m already rushing toward my bike. Barlow is right behind me when my tires eat the road as I head full speed in the direction my woman was headed.

  Fuck. I’m not losing her again and the mere thought of those fuckers getting their hands on her...to have her go through it again, even for a mere fucking second? It will rip open all the painful memories from the past.

  And if she would still be alive and survive yet again…she’ll be irreparably broken. She might be the strongest woman I know but everyone has their limit. She’s been through enough trauma to last a thousand lifetimes.

  One glance over my shoulder makes me aware everyone who was standing outside is on their bike behind me. I’m not alone this time and it rips me apart inside due to the feeling of failing my woman once again. No matter the why or how, it’s all about personal failure.

  The bike tears away the road at rapid speed while time seems to pass very slowly. When I finally see the SUV, my heart stutters since it’s strangely parked on the side of the road. Coming to a stop behind it, I jump off and go around the SUV but it’s completely empty. The door on the driver’s side is open and I lean in, noticing Val’s bag is still in the front but there’s no sign of either Morgan or Val.

  Remembering Morgan’s last words, I bellow, “Val? You in here?” Please, for fuck’s sake let her be in here, I mentally add on a plea.

  The backseat falls forward, showing the hidden compartment we installed. It functions as a safe room, and I might have laughed at Tyren when he added this to the SUV, but I’m not laughing right now. I’m man enough to admit I’m crying fucking happy tears as Val crawls out of the hiding space.

  “Shaw,” she croaks and rushes into my arms.

  A few moments pass and she pulls back. “You have to get him back! They took Morgan, they—”

  She goes limp in my embrace and my whole world stops. I frantically whip my head around. “Help me,” I bellow to my brothers.

  Wyatt rushes forward. “I saw some tranquilizer darts in the car and on the outside. I’m guessing she was nicked with one since she didn’t pass out right away. I think it’s safe to say they took Morgan without much of a fight. Didn’t Morgan mention something about her throwing out a sleeping bag when they were driving? To make it seem she jumped out? It might have nicked her then, taking time for it to work through her body.”

  Bile rises in my throat. “Also, safe to say they still use the same techniques. Because this is the exact same way they took us all those years ago. We have to do something. What houses does Donald own? Any hidden away from the outside world? We have to start somewhere. Zerox, call the club doctor so he can make sure my old lady is okay. I need to know if it’s indeed a light dose of tranquilizer that is causing this.”

  I lift her up in my arms and place her in the SUV.

  “Keys are still in there. The front isn’t damaged too much from where they forced them to stop. I’m gonna drive her back to
the clubhouse and have a prospect pick up my bike. Fuck. Morgan. How the hell do we get him back?”

  “Already on it,” Archer says from behind me. “You mentioned the property and I texted one of my brothers to make a list.”

  “Zerox, did your old lady put a tracker in her brothers? Morgan is one of her brothers, right? Remember when we met at the bar a few months ago and how my old lady talked about it with Maci? How we put a chip in our daughter, Esmee? Maci mentioned she would do it with your kids when they are older but she was gonna do it right away with her brothers.”

  Zerox cringes. “Yeah, the whole tagging our kids did creep me out at first but, dammit, having a daughter is hard enough when it catches you by surprise. And yes, she did bargain with her brothers and they agreed.”

  Zerox taps on his phone. It’s still hard to believe he’s a father but I guess it all caught us by surprise when Maci complained about her stomach and ended up with a surprise pregnancy that was way advanced. In the end everything worked out and all is healthy, happy, shit like that...quite the opposite of what’s happening now.

  “Here, the dot is still moving,” Zerox says and holds up his phone for all to see.

  “How many brothers do you have available?” Deeds asks and also has his phone in his hand.

  “Most are setting things up for a new exhibition with our art in a gallery out of state,” I explain, getting itchy just standing around while I need to get a doctor to check out Val so I know she’s okay.

  “I’ll make a few calls, get enough brothers for backup. Once that dot stops moving, we’re going in. We’re not going to risk this young man’s life, not with these snuff film fuckers. They are highly unpredictable.”

  Deeds glances at me. “Do you want to stay with your old lady? I understand if you do, but I’d rather have another brother with us that’s driven by vengeance instead of a prospect, if you know what I’m saying.”

  Glancing at Val, everything inside me screams to stay with her. Yet, I want to see with my own eyes—and if possible, by my own hand—finish this thing.

 

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