Chaotic Anger: The Seven MC Book 1

by Breck, A. R.

  “Enough.” He growls.

  I keep going, eager to have him fill my mouth with a part of him. Wanting to please him. Needing the taste of him sink into my taste buds. I’ve never done this out of want. Out of desire. I now understand the excitement over pleasing someone you are actually fond of.

  “Enough.” He lashes out, reaching forward and grabbing me around my biceps roughly, pulling me towards him. I whimper at the departure. He lays me on top of him, and my entire mouth feels swollen and puffy as my warm body collides with his. He takes my mouth, his pointer and thumb digging into my cheeks as he guides me where he wants me.

  His kiss is rough, clashing teeth and a war of tongues consume the both of us as we fight claim the other. Completely.

  I can feel his erection throbbing against my bare thigh. He pulls at his jeans wrapped around his lower thighs, grabbing another shiny square from his pocket.

  His finger trails down my body, pausing to caress or grip every dip and curve on its path towards my sleep shorts. His fingers dance along the hem, slipping underneath and finding my soaking wet panties not even remotely hiding the desire I have for this man underneath me.

  “Fuck. Shit. Fuck.” He swipes along the wetness on the outside of my panties, pulling his fingers out to stick them in his mouth. “Shiiiiiiiiit.” He groans as he tastes my juices.

  He sticks them back underneath my shorts, this time trailing his finger along the edge of my panties, pulling them to the side and sticking his fingers between my folds. Soaking wet, hot skin meets his fingers, drenching them even further when he presses against my clit.

  He grunts, lifting his hips as if he’s searching for the heat himself.

  The aroma of our desire lingers in the air with our humid breaths. My skins feels like earlier in the shower, a sheen of sweat sticking to me and leaving me a wanton animal.

  He tears the condom open, sheathing himself once again before he presses one finger inside, then two, swirling his fingers around and pulling them out quickly. Shifting my hips, he lines me up and slides me down on top of him. His length stretches me, even after just being inside of me earlier. My insides grip him perfectly, sliding against him as he hits the most perfect spots. I see stars as I ride him. Placing the soles of my feet on the worn carpet, I spread my legs wide as I ride him. He keeps my shorts and panties pulled to the side so he can watch. His blue eyes have turned a molten black, that beast once again raging at the surface, ready to break free. My head tips back, my eyes gazing at the popcorn ceiling as my blonde hair tumbles down the expanse of my back, the hairs grazing my waistline.

  I’ve never been on top. I’ve never taken control. I feel like I need to bow down and let him have his way with me, but with his commanding hands on my hips and the lustful look in his eyes, all I can do is what feels right.

  This feels right.

  “Look at me.” He grunts, lifting his hips up in a sharp thrust.

  I jerk up, watching as I ride him unabashed, feeling my own beast climb to the surface as I chase the orgasm that only he can give me. I’m never in charge. I’m never allowed an ounce of dominance, and although I love when Aziel takes control, there’s something about being on top, of watching the man beneath you completely at your mercy, that makes you want to take over the world.

  The power is addicting.

  My thighs burn from the exertion, but I power through it as I climb towards the orgasm that I know will light me on fire. Aziel is the same, his eyes turning hazy and his lids lowering. His mouth opens and fast puffs of breath come out.

  “I’m going to—” My voice shakes just as my legs do, heat blooming throughout my sex and through my belly, expanding and heating my entire body.

  “Fucking come.” He growls, gripping my hips in a bruising grip as he reaches his own climax.

  We both cry out silently. I fall on top of him, and his arms encircle me and holds me tight as his orgasm takes hold.

  I whimper against his damp neck. He presses his lips to the top of my head, and I melt into him further.

  “You’re fucking wild, baby. I think I might have to keep you.”

  I chuckle against his chest, signing and nuzzling into him. He holds me close, caging his arm around me and protecting me against the evils and darkness around us.

  18

  Ivy

  The following week, I'm pushing Lilah on her swing set when she starts springing questions on me.

  "Mommy?" She says, her dark, brown, curly hair dancing in the wind every time she flies in the air.

  "Yes?" My arms ache from pushing her. I've been out here for almost an hour. Pushing her, watching her fly down the slide, pushing her again. I'm out here every day. I'm starting to think the swing set was a bad idea.

  "Is this our new home?"

  Her question makes me pause, and I stop pushing. Her swing starts slowing down even when her tiny legs kick as fast as they can, still not able to gain enough momentum. She leaps off the swing, her little yellow duck rainboots splashing in a puddle as she turns around to face me. They stand out, the bright, vibrant yellow a complete contradiction to the rest of her outfit. Every day we seem to be wearing another Harley piece. Mostly Lilah, she loves it for some reason.

  Lilah stands in black leggings and a black Harley Davidson shirt, the lettering a purple cursive. She looks cute, but those damn yellow rainboots stick out like a sore thumb.

  "Mommy!" She pulls on my shirt.

  "What? What is it?"

  "I said, is this our new home?" She emphasizes, pulling on my shirt with each word.

  I squat down so I'm eye level with her, suddenly at a loss for words. "Um, I don't know. Why? Would you like it to be?"

  "Yeah!" She breaks out into a large grin.

  I pick her up and set her back in the swing. "Well, I don't know if its forever, but right now I think you can call it home."

  "Is Daddy going to come here?" She asks, this being the first time she's spoke about him since we left Mexico. I was hoping she would have forgotten about him, but I doubt that'll ever be the case.

  One can never forget about Santiago.

  "No." I can barely choke the word out. "He will not be coming here."

  "Daddy's mean. He gives you owies." My eyes start watering at her words. I hate that she's seen me in such a way.

  "I'm okay, baby. Please don't worry about me."

  "Mommy?" She asks, this time a mixture of hesitancy and happiness in her small voice.

  "Yes?" My stomach rolling, clenching, seizing at what she could possibly say next. I can't even think about Santiago without feeling sick.

  "I like Z. Can he be my new daddy?"

  I hear coughing behind me and almost fall over at her words and the sound behind me. I look over my shoulder and see Aziel looking as shocked as I am. I grab onto the chains of the swing, only it's when Lilah is on her way back up to the sky. The motion jerks Lilah forward and she flies out of the swing. She doesn't fly far, just a couple feet. But the fall scares her, and she instantly starts crying.

  "Shit." I groan.

  "Fuck." I can hear Aziel say from behind me. We both run up to Lilah and to my surprise, he picks her up and rushes into the mechanic shop. Pascal is inside the shop smoking a cigarette when he sees us.

  "What's going on?" He asks, tossing his cigarette.

  "Nothing. We're good." He kicks open a rinky-dink bathroom and sets Lilah on the sink. It's stained with grease and paint and looks like it's seen its better days, just like the rest of this bathroom. It's small and rusted, but thankfully clean.

  "Ow." Lilah cries. Glancing down, I see a small scrape with gravel embedded in the wound. It's not deep, and only slightly bleeding, but any kind of a scrape-burn hurts like hell.

  "I'm so sorry, Lilah. Mommy didn't realize you were going to fly off the swing like that." I bend down and wipe the tears from her cheek.

  She looks up at me, eyes full of tears and cheeks red from pain. "I got an owie." She points to her knee.

 
"I know you did, baby. We'll get you all fixed up. I'm so sorry." I brush her curls that are sticking to her wet cheeks out of her face.

  Aziel pulls a handful of supplies from the inside of a pale white cabinet above the toilet seat. "Okay, kid. You pretty much sprouted wings and flew across the yard. Did you do it on purpose?"

  Lilah looks at him a moment. "No." She wipes her nose, falling into the trap that I seem to be victim to more and more these days.

  "Really? Are you sure? I think I'm going to try that swing set out and see if I can fly. What do you think? Think I could go further than you?" He rips open an alcohol wipe and looks up at her expectantly.

  "You can't do that." She laughs through her tears.

  "Why not? I can't go on your swing set?" He looks appalled.

  "You're too big!"

  He rears back. "I'm too big? Are you calling me fat?" He winces. "Hey, this is going to hurt for just a second." He presses the wipe to her knee and her tears start up again. "My bad. Hey, Lilah, do you think I can build swing set for my size and then fly further than you?"

  "No." She cries.

  "Why not?"

  "Because swing sets are for kids!"

  "I'm a kid!" He pokes her side, and she finally cracks a smile. He lifts the wipe and squeezes a little ointment on her wound, then opening it a band aid and with the upmost care, places it right over her scrape.

  "You're not a kid."

  "Well maybe, but want to know something?"

  "What?" She asks.

  "I'm all finished, and I think you did really good. If it were me that scraped my leg, I think I would still be crying."

  "Really?" She sits up a little straighter. Like she believes she the strongest person in the room.

  "I do." He crumbles up the trash and tosses it into an overflowing bin. Is that a condom?

  "Want to know something else?" He smiles at Lilah.

  "What?" Her tears are long gone. Now she's smiling, eager for any kind of information she can get out of Aziel. She looks up to him, I realize, and she likes him more than I thought. Knowing that makes me a little nervous. Getting too close to people can only end in heartbreak. When it comes to my daughter's, having her heart broken is the very last thing I want of her.

  His face turns serious. "I might not be your real dad, but I'm always here if you need anything. Don't ever feel pressured that you need to have a father, because you don't. But if you ever need someone to talk to or if you need anything at all, I'm your guy. All right?"

  "Okay." She looks down at her band aid a second before looking back up at him. "But, if Mommy wants you to be my daddy, will you?"

  He licks his lips. "Lilah, at this point, I don't think I can deny your mother much of anything."

  Fucking. Swoon.

  I've literally melted into a pile of swoon onto this dirty tiled floor.

  I clear my throat. "Thank you for helping her. I'm going to see if I can find something for her to eat before the party tonight."

  He looks up at me, thrown out of the bubble we created in the bathroom. Narrowing his eyes, he says, "Yeah, okay. I'll see you in a bit."

  I turn to walk out of the bathroom when he calls my name. "Yeah?" I ask.

  "You need to quit fighting the inevitable. This is happening. Any more push and pull from you and I might have to show everyone in this club house what's really going on between us."

  I narrow my eyes. "You wouldn't dare.” I seethe. “They already know, anyway."

  He digs his cigarette pack out of his pocket and taps on it. A cigarette slides out, and he places it between his puckered lips. They pout, full and pink and damn kissable. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do, Ivy. Mostly when it comes to you. Haven’t you realized that by now?” He lets out a little chuckle, lighting up his cigarette and walking away from me. “See you in a bit, baby.”

  Asshole. I pout, walking towards the kitchen with Lilah.

  I pass Violet on my way, hanging her fifth box of Halloween decorations throughout the clubhouse.

  Yes, Halloween. We won’t be here for the actual holiday, as we’ll be traveling to Mexico. We need to be in Salvatierra by Día de los Muertos if they want to get Santiago in time. Which means we have to leave tomorrow. But, according to Violet, they throw a party every year. The sluttiest Jessie’s come out to play on Halloween, so I can internally admit that a part of my mood today is having to deal with the hoes tonight. Not looking forward to it.

  “Do you need help?” I ask Violet. She’s standing up on a ladder and trying to hang string lights above the mechanic garage. She looks one gust of air away from toppling over.

  “No,” she huffs, “I’m fine. But if you see West, tell him to get his ass over here, okay?”

  “Okay.” I heft Lilah higher on my hip as I walk in through the door that leads to the bar area. Haley has gotten used to Lilah by now, usually having some small lunch already prepared for her. I feel guilty every time, and tell her I can make my own food, but she simply rolls her eyes and waves me off. I told Aziel about it, and he told me Haley is a little possessive over her kitchen. She doesn’t like other people cooking in there, I guess, and he thinks she likes taking care of some people in the only way she knows how.

  Violet must have already decorated in here. The bar is littered with skulls and lights and creepy decorations. Heavy metal music plays softly through the speakers, although I’m sure a few hours from now it will be so loud I’ll be able to hear the words in the pit of my chest.

  Haley sees me, and she’s already dressed up as a candy skull. She wears black leather pants and a long sleeve, black shirt. With heels on her feet and her hair in loose curls, she looks young and beautiful, instead of her usual tired, worn out self.

  Her makeup is perfect. The white paint on her face pales her skin, and the black detailing around her eyes and cheeks perfect the look. She has some red painted in there, popping in and out of her makeup, and I can barely do anything but stare.

  “Hey, Lilah. I made you one of my famous grilled cheese sandwiches.”

  “Wow, Haley. You look awesome.” I balk, still staring at her as I set Lilah down on one of the bar stools.

  She smiles. “Thanks, Ivy. What’re you wearin’ tonight?”

  I shake my head. “Oh, um, I’m not really planning to wear anything. I figure I’ll just pop down for a little bit after Lilah goes to sleep.”

  Haley laughs at me. “Have you looked around?” She waves her hand throughout the room. “Violet takes this holiday very seriously. You’ll be dressing up. She makes us all dress up.”

  “But I don’t have anything to wear. I don’t have any costumes.”

  She pours a glass of milk from the refrigerator and sets it in front of Lilah. “Violet has a closet full of costumes. She’ll have something for you to wear.”

  I want to sigh, or maybe run up to my room and hide there the entire night. I don’t really want to dress up and I certainly don’t want to hang around a ton of Jessie’s tonight.

  “Haley?” I ask, sliding onto the stool next to Lilah. The bar top in front of me is shined so completely I can almost see my reflection. Come to think of it, this place is the cleanest I think I’ve ever seen it.

  They really must take this holiday seriously.

  “Yeah?” She grunts, some of her usual gruff exterior shining through.

  “Is this party thing really big? I heard Pascal and Cassius talking about a ton of Jessie’s coming tonight.”

  She pauses wiping down some glasses and looks up at me. “This party is big. The biggest one of the year. There will be a ton of people.” She sees the look on my face. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Charlie and the other prospects keep Lilah safe all night. I’ll have someone guard the door and check in on her every so often.

  She takes my concerned face incorrectly.

  I wave her off. “That’s great, but not really what I’m concerned about.” These guys have come to care about Lilah on a level no one ever did in Mexico. They adore her, a
nd I know they’ll keep her guarded when there’s a lot of people.

  “I just… I don’t do well with big crowds. And the girls…”

  Haley sighs, “You’re going to have to get used to the crowds, kid. And, as for the girls…” she shrugs, “Well, I guess you’re going to have to get used to them, too.”

  “Wow, thanks.”

  She swipes the empty place from under Lilah and walks towards the back. “Sorry, Ivy. It is what it is. You’ll have to get used to things here. The guys throw parties here, and the guys are guys. They love when the Jessie’s flow in during a big party. They’re crude and disgusting half the time, but the Jessie’s love ‘em. They won’t be stopping anytime soon, either. And from the looks of things, you aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Why do you say that?” I ask, lifting Lilah from the bar stool.

  Haley cocks an eyebrow in my direction. “You don’t need to have eyes to see that you guys are falling for each other. You search him out when he isn’t around. His eyes are always on you. You aren’t going anywhere, Ivy. Welcome to your new home.”

  “We aren’t falling for each other.” I emphasis each word, feeling my stomach twist and turn.

  She laughs, walking out of sight. “Call it what you like, kid. If the sky is blue, then the sky is blue.” I hear the sink turn on in the back, effectively ending our conversation.

  “Mommy?”

  I look down at Lilah, her skin sun kissed and her hair a tangled mess from running around outside. “What’s Halloween?”

  I pause in my step, looking down at her and realizing she’s never experienced Halloween. She’s never been able to experience or enjoy dressing up or going trick or treating.

  “It’s… It’s a holiday. People dress up scary or however they want, really. People go trick or treating and get candy. It’s fun.”

  Her face brightens and the word candy. “Can I go to Halloween?”