Bouncer (Kings of Carnage Series Book 5)

by Kim Jones

  Her hips rock against me and the sweetest little breathy moan escapes her followed by a hoarse, “No sir.” Her words have the same effect on my cock as her naked body.

  I press my lips to hers. When she rocks her hips again, I deepen the kiss. My fingers release her chin and I slide my hand down her throat, holding her in place as I claim her mouth. She kicks me with the heel of her foot. I give her my leg and she shamelessly grinds her pussy over my knee.

  Son of a bitch.

  I want to spank her raw. Until it hurts. Until she’s crying for mercy. Spread her open and lick her from ass to clit until she comes on my face. Then flip her over and fuck her through the goddamn mattress until she’s crying because it feels so motherfucking good.

  Instead I apply a little pressure to her throat. Kiss her a little harder. Grab a handful of her ass and squeeze a little tighter. All while she drags her hot cunt back and forth over my knee until she’s screaming in my mouth.

  Her body shakes with the aftershocks of her orgasm. I bring her down slowly by easing up on her throat and softening my kiss. She melts into me as exhaustion takes over. I kiss the corners of her mouth and brush the hair from her face. “Sleep, baby.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You will.”

  She’s quiet for so long I’m sure she’s fallen asleep. I’m surprised when she speaks. “I’m scared…of the dreams.”

  I get it.

  There’s nothing more terrifying than the fear of your own mind. Without a sense of safety and security, you can’t control that fear. She might not feel safe all the time, but she is safe tonight. Because tonight, she has me.

  I turn on my side and wrap her in my arms. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. You let me worry about those monsters.”

  But I’m not worried.

  Because I’m the biggest monster of all.

  Four

  APPLE

  My head is killing me.

  Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I roll to my back and yawn. This room is way too dark. This bed is way too comfy. And my pillow smells like…man.

  I bolt upright and squint into the darkness. The blacked-out windows are great if you’re waking up with a hangover. Not so much if you’re hoping to catch sight of the man whose knee you fucked last night.

  So, you can avoid him.

  For forever.

  I groan and scrub my hand down my face. The noise from the bathroom reminds me that I’m not alone. Heat floods my cheeks and my heart hammers against my chest at the idea of facing him. I scramble from the bed, my legs twisted in the sheets, forcing me off the mattress headfirst, face-planting the floor below with a smack. I stifle a groan.

  I hastily look through the pile of clothes I’ve gathered from the floor.

  Joggers?

  Check.

  Sweatshirt?

  Check.

  Gloves?

  Fuck!

  Where is the other one?

  Just as I feel the edge of a latex finger and pull it from underneath the bed, I hear the shower cut off behind the bathroom door.

  I stop breathing.

  Shit.

  I turn in circles for a moment, realizing I have zero time to put on my clothes. There’s only one choice here, and at this point I would run butt-ass naked across Cowboys Stadium before I let that bathroom door open and I’m face-to-face with he-who-I-came-on. I bolt naked down the hallway, thankful that it’s still early and no one is up.

  I poke my head into the main room and find it empty. I dart between the tables to the small private bathroom hidden in the kitchen. No one ever uses this bathroom and I’ve kind of claimed it for myself. If I had used it instead of the public bathrooms last night, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

  But then I wouldn’t have been pulled to the chest of a stranger.

  Or held in strong arms.

  Petted with calloused hands.

  Felt truly safe from my nightmares.

  Kissed like a lover.

  Restrained like a submissive.

  Had the best orgasm of my life....

  I stare at my reflection and lift my hand to my kissed-hard lips. Despite having some of the best sleep I’ve had in a while, there are dark circles beneath my swollen eyes. I feel good, but I look like shit. A sadness settles over me, but I shake it off.

  Get it together, Apple!

  As I dress, I think back on last night—ticking off the facts in my head.

  The Nomad showed up.

  But unless he turned a light on at some point, which I don’t remember, he didn’t get a good look at me. Even if he did, I was naked. My hair down. My eyes mostly closed. My face hidden from view except when he kissed me.

  That kiss, though.

  This morning I woke up as I always do—with my head buried beneath my pillow. I’m a pretty light sleeper, so I would’ve known if he had turned a light on or turned me to study my face.

  Dressed, I pull my gloves on and check my image in the full-length mirror. My clothes are layered and several sizes too big. My hair is knotted on my head. There’s nothing about my appearance that would attract him enough to give me a second glance. Maybe he won’t recognize me.

  But how will I react when I see him?

  I may not know what he looks like, but I know who he is.

  The more I think about it, I’m positive it was Nomad Bouncer. No one else would have come in that room. Chaos wouldn’t have let that happen.

  Perhaps he’s gone. From the stories I hear, he’s infamous for disappearing without a word. He never stays in one place long.

  I smile with relief.

  He’s gone. I’m sure of it.

  I grab my bucket and head out to start cleaning up the destruction from last night’s festivities. But before I get to work, I stop at the bar to fix an ice-cold Bloody Mary to help wash away the reminder of the kiss that still lingers on my lips.

  Five

  BOUNCER

  She’s gone.

  Fuck.

  I knew I shouldn’t have left her. At the very least, I should’ve flipped the light on and pulled her from the mountain of covers and pillows she was buried beneath to get a good look at the woman whose scent surrounded me. The one who had me envisioning a doe eyed, dark haired beauty on her knees swallowing my cock when I jerked off in the shower this morning.

  I throw on my clothes and search the clubhouse for her. I check every room. Inside and out. People are starting to wake up and move around. But none of them are her.

  Where the fuck could she be?

  I pass the bar and stop in my tracks.

  That scent…

  Fruity with a hint of vanilla.

  I study the two girls sitting at the end of the bar. I quickly dismiss the idea that either could be her. One has short hair. The other is too tall. They both wear Property patches.

  I swallow hard, a strange feeling building in my gut.

  What if I fucked with someone’s Ol’ Lady?

  The thought doesn’t make me feel sick like it should. It makes me feel possessive.

  “Hey, friend.”

  I turn on my heel to find the strange girl from last night behind the bar smiling at me. She takes a sip of her drink then offers it to me. “Hair of the dog?”

  Suddenly, sleeping with someone’s Ol’ Lady isn’t the worst thing that could happen. I could’ve woken up with this crazy bitch in my bed.

  “I’m Apple.” She extends her gloved hand to me.

  I glare at her in disgust. “Are you fucking with me?”

  Her head tilts as she studies me. “Do you want me to fuck with you? Seems like you’re in need of some comedic relief this morning. Why you look so stressed? Wanna talk about it? I’m a great listener.”

  “We met last night. You don’t remember?”

  She shrugs. “I drink a lot. Sometimes I forget things.”

  “You get so drunk you black out and don’t remember shit? Do you know how unsafe that is?”

  Her lips turn down in a p
out and she puts her hand to her chest. “Awe. You’re worried about me.”

  I let out a bark of laughter at the absurdity of this bitch. “I can assure you that my focus is not your safety.” I run my hand over my short hair and lock eyes with the girl across the room.

  Nope. Not her either.

  Where are you, gorgeous?

  “What is your focus?” I turn back to Apple to find her gloved fingers spread out over her chest. “Is it my tits? Are these what you’re focusing on?”

  My temper flares. I’m a millisecond from telling her off when North shows up. “Mornin’. Sleep good?”

  His good mood does nothing to improve mine. When he winks at Apple and takes the cup of coffee she offers him, I snap. “Who the fuck is she?” North turns to face me and slowly looks from me to her. My leg bounces nonstop in an effort to release the pent-up energy as I wait for his reply.

  “Apple?”

  “Yes, fucking Apple,” I seethe, spitting the words through my teeth.

  “Um. She works here?”

  I stiffen. “Are you asking me because you don’t know?”

  “She’s the one who makes it possible for you to sit on a toilet that isn’t covered in piss,” Sly says, walking up and taking the cup Apple extends to him. “Thank you, doll.” He takes a seat and lifts his eyes to me. When he notices how angry I am, he grins.

  “I don’t like her,” I deadpan. It’s an asshole thing to say in front of her. She’ll be hurt by my words. Maybe even cry. And I don’t fucking care. Still, I can’t stop my eyes from glancing over at her to see her reaction. Now, I’m really pissed.

  She’s not hurt. She’s smiling at me. Genuine happiness on her annoying fucking face.

  “You’re gonna love me, best friend. Whether you want to or not.” She picks up the coffee pot and refills North’s cup.

  I ignore her. Women hate that. And it’s obvious that nothing I say will shut her up. Maybe my silence will. I turn to Sly. “Saw you came in from outside. You checked on Boots this morning?”

  Sly nods. “Yeah. He’s dead on his feet. But he’s still got your cut in a death grip. I got too close earlier and the fucker actually growled at me.”

  I’d laugh if I wasn’t so pissed at the woman eavesdropping on our conversation. And I didn’t miss how Sly’s words startled her.

  What the hell is that about?

  She fucking Boots?

  If he’s with her, maybe he’s not the Brother I thought he was going to be.

  “I’m heading out there now. I need to talk to him about some shit anyway.” I level her with a look.

  “What was your name again?” she asks. Her behavior is suspicious. I don’t like it. So I walk away. Just before I slam the door behind me, I hear North telling her what I wouldn’t.

  “That’s Kings of Carnage Nomad Bouncer.”

  Six

  APPLE

  Sometimes I lie.

  Like when I told that prick I met last night that I didn’t remember him, I lied. When I told him we were going to be best friends, I lied. And when I told myself that the Nomad I came all over last night was long gone by now, I lied.

  He’s not gone.

  He’s here.

  And he couldn’t be a bigger asshole.

  How did I ever allow him to touch me?

  He’s rude. And hateful. And a jerk. But man is he fine. He’s shorter than some of the other guys, but carries himself like he’s a foot taller than everyone in the room. He’s wide across the chest, narrower through the hips and has an ass that any girl can appreciate. He wears a hat, but there’s no denying he has that traditional military style haircut. And those baby blue eyes….

  “Apple?”

  I jump and the coffee pot nearly slips from my hand. “Shit!”

  Sly frowns. “What’s got you so jumpy, doll?”

  “How long is Bouncer staying?” I blurt.

  He lifts a brow. “A while. That a problem for you?”

  “Would it matter if it was?”

  He shrugs. “Not really, but now you have me curious.”

  I sip my drink to avoid saying anything I might regret. It’s obvious Bouncer has no idea that I’m the mystery girl from last night. I sure don’t want to hint that I am. “He’s just…a bit of an asshole. That’s all.”

  “Yeah,” Sly draws, nodding in agreement. “He is. But he’ll calm down. The party last night probably still has him on edge. Just steer clear of him.”

  “Don’t have to worry about that,” I mutter. I shouldn’t have. Sly is way too observant. “I’m gonna finish up in the back. Let me know if you need anything.” I offer him a smile and make a quick getaway.

  I spend the next several hours restoring the clubhouse back to its original glory. By the time I’m finished, it’s sparkling clean and I’m tipsy. My work is done for the day but the night is just beginning. I settle at the bar with a fresh drink, put my feet in the seat across from me and spin my stool around to face the room.

  People-watching is my favorite thing to do. Most people think that club life is all about orgies and drugs and sharing women and snorting cocaine off of bare asses, but in reality, it’s quite boring. There’s really just a bunch of beer drinking and pool shooting and classic rock music that plays on a loop all. Damn. Day.

  I’m contemplating switching the station just to piss some of the guys off when I hear a familiar voice I’ve spent all day trying to forget.

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  I jerk my head around to see Bouncer pull Jinx’s Ol’ Lady, Talia, into a hug. He smiles at her and…woah.

  He’s sexy when he’s angry.

  He’s downright breathtaking when he smiles.

  A tingle rushes down my spine when I remember how I felt when he called me sweetheart.

  So why the fuck is he calling her that?

  And why is he being so damn nice to her, yet such a shit to me?

  I sip my drink and study them. He’s so carefree with her. So nice. I think he just laughed a little. I shouldn’t feel possessive. It’s stupid. He might’ve been dreamy in the dark with me, but in the light of day, he was a complete dick. No one wants that. I, especially, don’t want that.

  So why does it bother me to see him and Talia together?

  I slide my cup to Cassie and am three gulps into my new drink when Talia walks away, and he turns his eyes on me. Any inkling of charm or happiness instantly fades. He’s back to looking like he ate a turd.

  It must be my gloves.

  I bet he wouldn’t look at me like that if he knew I changed them frequently. This is my fourth pair today.

  We continue to stare at one another from twenty feet away. If he thinks I’m going to look away first, he has another thing coming. He might intimidate some of the other people around here, but he doesn’t intimidate me. I don’t give a shit who he is.

  He gives me a disgusted look when I set my cup on the counter and slide it back to Cassie—never taking my eyes off him. I flip him the finger and his eyes narrow.

  “Why are you staring at me like you want to put it in my butthole?” I yell out, throwing my hands in the air and sitting up in my seat. “It’s fucking uncomfortable. I’m not into you, homie.”

  He looks so taken aback, I almost smile. We have the room’s attention. And there’s no doubt he knows that.

  He stomps over to where I’m sitting and grabs me by the arm. He hauls me off my chair and out the side door. I struggle in protest, but I’m no match for his strength. I should be scared. But I’m just drunk enough not to be. Besides, the guys won’t let him kill me.

  Will they?

  “What the fuck is your problem?” he growls, practically shoving me away from him. When my feet get tangled up and I start to trip, he rights me. I slap his hands away and he steps back.

  “I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem? Why are you so nice to everybody but me?”

  “Because I don’t like you!”

  I jerk my head back in shock. “What d
o you mean you don’t like me? I’m the most likable motherfucker around here.”

  “You’re obnoxious and ridiculous and don’t know when to shut your fucking mouth. Or stop drinking. How much have you had today? You’ve been drinking since this morning.”

  I pretend to think as I count with my fingers. I take my time getting to ten, and when I do, I meet his angry gaze and hold up both my middle fingers.

  He takes a breath. “Girl…I’m about to lose my shit.”

  The door opens and North pokes his head out. “Everything okay out here?”

  “No!” we both shout in unison. But I’m a fast speaker, so I blurt my side first. “He’s been a dick to me ever since we met. And I’ve done nothing but be nice.”

  “Bull-fucking-shit!” He points his finger at me and rises on his toes. The malice in his tone is quite clear. And his body is shaking with anger.

  I roll my eyes. “Oh, stop with your fucking temper tantrum. You look like a three-year-old.”

  He chews on his lip. Closes his eyes. Takes some deep breaths. I’d bet anything he was counting in his head. Probably some shit a therapist told him to do when he got too angry.

  When he opens his eyes, I take a step back.

  Maybe I should be a little scared….

  “You know what?” He shakes his head and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m not fucking doing this.” His voice is calm now. And ten times scarier than his mad voice. “I want her gone. Now. I’ll be in the chapel.” He steps through the door without a second glance at me.

  “Well…that was rude.”

  North cuts his eyes at me and I swallow back my other smartass comment. “Sly told you to stay away from him, did he not?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “Then why are you out here?”

  “Because he drug me out here. I was sitting on the barstool minding my own business. He kept staring. So I stared back.”

  “And?”

  I drop my head and twist the toe of my shoe into the grass. “And I may or may not have shouted at him across the room. And flipped him off…twice.”