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Rough and Ready

Page 8

by Cathleen Ross


  She slumped, desperately relieved until sheer, raw pleasure made her buck as he teased her. He set a rhythm rubbing the thick head around her entrance and right up her slit in between, which made her grind upward, desperate for release.

  Then he bit her nipples. The pain speared into her mind, and she cried out, lashing at his face with her nails, leaving bright red marks before he caught her hand and pinned it above her head.

  “Too hard?” His eyes were alive and dancing at her shock.

  “Like you care. Bastard.” She used her other free hand to slap his face again, catching him right on the ear.

  “I’m used to pain.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  He chuckled, clearly enjoying her protest. This time he licked her nipples, deceptively gentle, taking his weight on one elbow and leg while he gripped his cock again and rubbed it over her clit.

  She trusted him not to hurt her, and the pleasure was intense. Soon she was thrashing her head from side to side, moaning. So close to coming, she tried to straighten her legs, desperate to roll the small of her back and jerk her hips upward.

  “You don’t move unless I let you.” He pinned both of her hands above her head, pinioned her knee open with his own, so that she only had one leg free.

  Being totally physically controlled made her stop and search his eyes. He was so into the game, and she was a novice. This man was all rock-hard muscle. He had the power to hurt her, really hurt her, should he choose to.

  Yet her traitorous body pulsed for him. Her nipples burned where he’d bitten them too hard, bringing her back to the game. The music throbbed in her ears, running with lava heat through her veins.

  She was hungry for him.

  He stared back at her as if caught in the moment of carnal lust as much as she was. A vein pulsed at his temple, and she could smell his desire. Man musk and heat. He grabbed a condom from the golden bowl, ripped the packet with his teeth, and slid it on. This time, he thrust himself right into her without stopping.

  Alice gasped, and her whole body tensed. He was so big.

  He filled her in a way that no one had, withdrawing almost completely and then thrusting hard so that he consumed her, his hips working like pistons.

  Pinioned underneath this superb, muscular man, his thick cock stretched her, filling her. She closed her eyes, undulating to his thrusts, carried on a wave of alcohol, tribal music, and lust, until he let go of her hands, leaving her free to clutch onto his shoulders as he kissed her. His kiss was fiery and passionate. She closed her eyes, kissing him back, tasting the absinthe on his tongue, savoring the sheer hedonistic mindlessness.

  “Open your eyes. Stay with me.”

  “Keep me there,” she countered.

  He thrust slower this time, kissing her throat, rolling her nipples with his thumb and forefinger.

  She thrust upward in a movement as he increased his pace, meeting him, carried along on a wave of passion. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and she clenched around his cock, drawing him into her as the voodoo music pulsed.

  He came with a roar, heaving and shuddering, and she followed him, totally consumed by this giant of a man.

  He slid out of her, pulled the condom off, and tied a knot in it, his huge cock still hard. He lay on his side, eyes hooded, staring at her.

  She pulled her dress down as her senses came back to the room.

  He’d never taken his clothes off, totally in control, while she, she was a mess.

  He reached down, sliding his hand under her dress, stroking her between her legs.

  “I’ve already come,” she gasped. “It’s enough.”

  “You stop coming when I say you stop,” he growled.

  She was puffy and tender, but he was so gentle, running his finger lightly over her slit, so that she was a puppet to his touch. All will to resist evaporated as he fingered her. Every stroke of his fingers sent shots of heat deep inside her, each building on the last until finally she could endure it no more.

  A wave of orgasm followed the first, and she moaned and thrashed, her hips jerking to the rhythm he created.

  “Scream for me,” he snarled in her ear.

  “No,” she panted.

  “You do what I say.”

  She sucked in a deep breath as he changed his technique. He speared her with his fingers, withdrew, and used his thumb to swipe over her tortured clit until her whole body arched and there was nothing but her and him. Pleasure seared through her, starting between her legs, straight up her spine, exploding in her head so that she screamed, no longer caring where they were or who could hear them, before finally collapsing, breathless. Boneless. Replete.

  No one had ever taken her with such dominance, such precise force, on the edge of fear and pain and deep sensuality. She lay, her heart still pounding as she struggled to calm herself and slow her breathing.

  Hugo’s expression had changed from determined and cruel to benign in a heartbeat. He zipped himself up, reaching over to the tray to pick up two glasses of water, handing one to her.

  With limbs as heavy as lead, she forced herself to a sitting position and took the glass, drinking deeply.

  He gave her a knowing, satisfied smile. Taking his cue, she pulled her dress over her hips, aware of the stickiness between her legs, and wished she’d brought tissues.

  Hugo opened the curtain and signaled to the waitress, who brought over a hot warm cloth for each of them and a tray with their meals. She dived for the cloth, determined to clean herself up, but Hugo gripped her wrist. “Not so fast, Alice.”

  He picked up a shrimp by its tail and put it to her lips. She could smell the Cajun spice on his fingers and her own musk. Her doctor boyfriend would have been hysterical about the transfer of germs, but she knew instinctively that Hugo would be enjoying every scent, every texture and taste.

  From the smug expression on his face and the slight curve of his lips, he was watching the way she accepted food from his hand. Only after she’d eaten did he allow her to close the curtains and clean her face, hands, and down below.

  She handed him a still-steaming wet cloth, but he sucked on his index finger, middle finger, and thumb first, never taking his gaze off her.

  She shivered with pleasure. This was a man who couldn’t get enough of her.

  She knew, even though she was determined not to fall for him, he had ruined her for all men. Changed her expectations, her desires, and her concept of sensuality.

  No man could ever measure up to him.

  The essence of him was inside her body and her mind. Finding her way back to her solitary life when he left would be like untangling a vine.

  Chapter Eleven

  Later that evening, Hugo insisted on showering with Alice, even though he took up most of the space in the shower stall. He couldn’t take his hands off her. Bits of the evening kept playing in his mind like a movie. Having Alice the way he’d planned. He’d thought about it all day. Jacked off over it, too. Her face in the throes of passion.

  Joy. Delight. Happiness. The unusual sensations rocked his body. He never felt anything much. “Fucking you. It was amazing. I never thought you’d scream tonight.”

  She filled her hand with liquid soap from the pump and washed the front of him, her efficient hands moving over his chest and down his torso toward his cock. “Oh God, was I loud?”

  “I don’t care. I want you like that. I like it when you express yourself.”

  “I was never relaxed enough to be like that.”

  “You hang out with the wrong type of man.” He pumped soap into his hands this time, so he could run them all over her.

  “Hugo?”

  She said his name so softly, his hands stopped moving.

  “We fit together well.”

  “Yeah. We do. I wasn’t expecting that.” She was brave, too. She’d been giving that biker hell until he’d intervened. “What was the deal with that asshole I punched at the market?”

  “Turn around and I’ll wash your back.
” He did as she asked. She got some liquid soap and washed his back in tight round circles that felt so good, the tiny sensations fluttered down his spine. “I grew up in the club. Mad Dog wanted me when I finished school, and Daddy, bless his heart, expected me to fall into line.”

  He grinned, knowing how fierce she could be when something didn’t suit her. “How did that go down?”

  “Told Daddy where he could shove his plans. I guess Mad Dog’s still cut up that I wouldn’t have him.”

  “Smart choice. In the future, when he’s drug addled, don’t take him on. I didn’t like what I saw tonight.”

  “Look, Hugo, I’ve lived around these tough men all my life. I’m not scared of them, but like I said before, I did appreciate your help.”

  He turned, and his brow creased as he looked at this fiery little woman. “You were up in his grill. That’s dangerous, Alice.”

  “I despise what they do.”

  “I don’t like drugs, either, but don’t take a man on when he’s like that.”

  “I know you were worried about me, but remember, I’m a nurse. I’ve worked in emergency when I trained.”

  “You have security at work. This man is from your father’s club. He shouldn’t treat you like that.” What would happen when he left? Fuck! This was a nightmare. If Troy intercepted the latest shipment, would the Banderos work out the link between him and Troy? What if they thought Alice was feeding him information?

  She put her hands on his chest. “What’s bothering you, Hugo?”

  “Tonight. That moment with the knife. I wanted to gut that asshole. If it weren’t for you demanding I stop, I don’t know what I would have done.” He pulled her in tight, so that she was snug against him, his cock nestled against her torso, and held her so that the water splashed over their shoulders. Her body was sturdy and strong, and it felt good holding her.

  “Just for a moment there, I didn’t know how far you would go,” she said. “It scared me. We’re lucky no one called the police.”

  “It sends me crazy when a man hurts a woman.” Someone I care about. He hadn’t been able to stop his father hitting his mother when he was seventeen, although he’d tried and been beaten savagely for his efforts. It haunted him everyday.

  Payback would be coming soon. After he was done with Alice.

  “You’re home now. You have to know when to pull back,” she said.

  “I know the difference between fighting and killing. With these sort of men, you have to show them you mean what you say. It’s part bluster. It’s being able to follow through. Mad Dog was going to hurt you,” he said.

  She stared up at him frowning, too, clearly thinking about it as water ran down her face like tears. “I wondered if he was going to. It’s the first time I’ve thought that. We’ve argued in the past, but it’s never got physical. I’ve nursed every man in the club: stitched men, set bones, even extracted bullets. I’ve never had any trouble. They respect me.”

  Hugo pulled back and inspected her right wrist, which Mad Dog had gripped. It had deep purple fingerprints on it. He looked at her other wrist, checking he hadn’t left bruising when he’d pinioned her. Nothing. “This is not showing respect. You’re the president’s daughter. This doesn’t look like loyalty to the president to me.”

  Alice turned off the taps, grabbed her towel, and stepped out of the shower stall. “The club’s in deep shit. Some of the men want to make peace with the Slayers, start legal businesses. Some want to continue the war, blow the crap out of them.”

  He needed to get into the clubhouse, check out the lay of the land. Plant the bug if he got the opportunity. “I gather your father’s in the ‘blow the crap out of the Slayers’ camp?”

  “You got it. He enjoys fighting, the dirtier the better. That’s the trouble, and don’t expect me to speak to him. I’ve tried. Nothing I say will change his mind.”

  He dried himself, wrapped his towel around his hips, and followed her into her bedroom. Before he’d met Alice, he couldn’t give a fuck about biker politics. He’d enjoyed the thought of Troy blowing the fuckers up, but now? Hell! He’d seen the aggression in Mad Dog’s eyes. It didn’t take much for a big man to break a woman’s bones. What if he took Alice with him? Whoa. She wasn’t the kind of girl who could be dragged from pillar to post. “Have you ever thought about leaving?”

  She stared at him as if she thought he was mad. “I have Momma in a coma, I’ve just started a new job. I’m enrolled in my master’s course. It starts next week. I can’t go anywhere. Why are you asking?” She pulled a cotton nightgown over her head.

  He checked his duffel bag and dressed in a pair of cargo pants and a T-shirt. He was too antsy to sleep. “What if a biker war erupts? Someone hurt your mother, your father thinks you’re next.”

  “The war started when Troy DeLance blew up Daddy’s precious club. It’s been crazy since then.”

  “Innocents get hurt in war. I don’t want it to be you.”

  “I can’t leave, Hugo. I’m not itinerant like you.”

  He flinched, but she continued nonetheless.

  “I have to visit Momma everyday. She needs me. Besides, I’m not letting some asshole bikers run my life. I’m sick of the lot of them. They can pull out their own bullets and sew themselves up for all I care.” She walked back into the bathroom and cleaned her teeth before dabbing on moisturizer.

  He joined her, cleaned his teeth, and wiped his face with the hand towel. Still buzzing from the sex, he took a deep breath in. She smelled of flowers and mint. He ached to hold her to him. She was making him soft.

  Her phone pinged, and she went to look at it. “Hell.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Daddy’s downstairs. He wants me to buzz him in.” She raced to the spare bedroom and ruffled the bed. “This is where you sleep, okay?” She flew into her bedroom, heaved up his duffel bag, and started dragging it to the other bedroom.

  Hugo strode over, took it from her, and deposited it next to the tiny single bed. “You worried your father is going to think we’re having sex? Thought you weren’t letting some biker rule your life.”

  “Just be quiet. The less Daddy knows about my life the better. You have no idea how I’ve fought for my privacy. Trust me. Even from prison, he managed to wrangle his biker buddies to pick me up from school when Momma was doing nursing shifts. Do you know how embarrassing that was?” She ran to the front door and pressed the security button.

  He folded his arms. About time the president made an appearance and he moved into the next part of the plan. He’d wondered how long it would take Alice’s old man to check up on her.

  She put her hands on either side of his cheeks. “Promise me, you won’t get involved with my daddy.”

  “I’m working for him.”

  “Don’t do anything illegal. I mean it, Hugo. People respect veterans. You’re a good man. You get associated with Daddy, get caught doing anything bad, you’ll go to jail. The Banderos have the police up their ass. They closed down several meth labs and jailed half the club. Daddy’s cornered, and it’s making him dangerous. Promise me.”

  He took her hands in his, marveling how lovely and soft they were in comparison with his and how much she cared about his welfare. His heart beat with a hollow thud. “Alice, I’m a decorated veteran. I’m not interested in illegal. One day I might decide to start my own business. Working for the Banderos and landing in jail won’t be on my resume.”

  Alice gave him a penetrating stare. “Thought you weren’t a settler.”

  He shrugged. “You never know. People change.”

  There was a knock at the door, and she opened it. Glass stood there, his dark eyes glinting, the scar on his face white and jagged against his brown skin. He stared at Hugo. “I have a job for you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Alice went to the fridge, took out a beer, and gave it to her father. When Glass sat on her plush lounge she made sure she sat right next to him, determined to disrupt whatever he had pl
anned for Hugo.

  Hugo drew up a dining chair and sat.

  She looked pointedly at her watch. “It’s late, Daddy.”

  “Been sitting with your mother.” He pulled the pull tab off his beer and drank it down.

  “Any change?” Alice asked. “I was with Momma at lunch.”

  “Nah. When I find out who’s responsible, I’m gonna kill them.”

  “You going to jail won’t help Momma. She’ll be devastated if she wakes up and finds you’re not there.” Her father gave her a long, black-eyed stare, which told her to mind her own business.

  She ignored it. “I want to talk to you about Mad Dog.”

  “That’s why I came,” Glass said, looking from Alice to Hugo. “I heard you threatened to gut him.”

  Hugo leaned forward. Even sitting he seemed big and hulking and dark. “He hurt Alice. I stopped him. He won’t get near her again.”

  “Alice? Is this true?” Glass asked.

  “Mad Dog was high. Told me I was going to ‘fuck’ him. Gripped my wrist and wouldn’t let go until Hugo made him.” Alice held up her wrist. Large purple fingerprints, made more violet by her shower, stood out against her white skin.

  “His story was he saw you out late. Had a dangerous-looking man following you. Tried to make you come with him because he thought you were in trouble,” Glass said.

  “That slimy, lying bastard. That’s not how it was, Daddy.” She glanced over at Hugo for him to back her up, but he was silent, frowning at her father.

  “The men would give their lives for you, Alice,” Glass said. “I need the facts right.”

  “Here are the facts. Mad Dog is a drug-addled liability, and I don’t want him looking out for me. Not that he was,” Alice said, seething. Why wasn’t Hugo saying anything?

  “I can’t risk any confusion in the future,” Glass said.

  “There was no confusion, Daddy,” she said.

  “Boudreaux, I’m taking you to meet the men,” Glass said.

  Hugo nodded, his face expressionless, which worried her more. The man was too used to obeying orders. When her father was in the room, it was like she didn’t exist. How could he do that to her?

 

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