Silver Bastard

by Joanna Wylde

  There was another one I remembered, too. Rooper? Booger? Shit, his name wouldn’t come to me. He was alone, but when a girl came up to him with a drink and tried to worm her way into his side, he blew her off.

  Toward the back of the bar was a hallway, off to the right. The music got louder as we followed it through the building. Along the left wall were a series of doors, two of which were labeled as bathrooms. Then we passed an open door. I shot a glance inside to find a big room with a heavy wooden table. On one wall hung several obviously old sets of Silver Bastard colors. Puck frowned and shut the door.

  Okay, that must be the chapel.

  The hallway opened up into a kitchen area. Along the back wall was a grill, and several women hovered around a big center counter, fixing platters of food. Directing them was Darcy. She saw me and a huge smile took over her face.

  “Becca!” she called, sauntering over with a sexy sway of her hips. She had to be nearly fifteen years older than me, maybe more, but the woman still knew how to work it.

  “I need to talk to Boonie and Picnic,” Puck said. “Will you keep an eye on Becca, make her feel welcome? I don’t want to leave her alone yet. Not until she’s more comfortable.”

  Darcy nodded, a flash of understanding passing across her face. Over the years I’d wondered how much she knew about me. In the Longnecks, women never learned any of the secrets. I’d suspected Darcy knew most of what happened with the Bastards, including where and how they’d found me. Now I had confirmation.

  “Can you give me a hand?” she asked. “We’ve got food set up out back, and the first wave has eaten. Now we’re refilling and getting ready for dessert. Just cold cuts tonight, nothing fancy. Ladies, this is Becca.”

  Women smiled at me, murmuring their hellos as I washed my hands at the sink. I had just settled in to separate and lay out slices of cheese when Carlie came in through the back door.

  “That keg will need changing out soon,” she announced. Then she saw me. My breath caught—obviously there had once been something between her and Puck. Just as obviously it was over. Now what?

  “Hey, Becca,” she said brightly. Too brightly? “Deep said you might be here tonight. I hear you and Puck are together now. Good for you.”

  Yup, way too bright. She still had a thing for him. That didn’t stop her from walking over and offering me a hug that felt genuine enough. To my surprise, she took the opportunity to whisper something in my ear.

  “We’re both big girls, here,” she said. “I’m happy for you and Puck and I’ve got no problem with you. But these bitches are waiting for me to start crying or something, and I’ll be damned if I’ll do it. It would mean a lot to me if you’d treat me like we’ve been friends for a while. Let me save face?”

  Then she pulled back, meeting my gaze, and I saw a hint of desperation in her eyes.

  “I didn’t realize you knew each other,” someone commented, her voice sly and nasty. I looked over to find Darcy glaring at a girl wearing short shorts and a bikini top. I knew her, of course. Bridget Marks—she’d been a bitch in high school and obviously nothing had changed since then.

  I felt sudden compassion for Carlie.

  “We go way back,” I said loudly. “Carlie and I haven’t been able to hang out as much recently. Between work and school I’ve been so busy lately, you know? I haven’t seen you forever, either, Bridget. How are you doing? You finish your degree yet?”

  Just like that, the power in the room shifted from Bridget to me, because she’d flunked out and everyone knew it. She hadn’t done much else, either, other than getting knocked up twice by two different guys. Not that she was raising the kids—nope, she’d dropped them at her mom’s place and kept right on partying.

  Carlie wrapped an arm around my shoulder and laughed. “I’ve missed you, Becca.”

  The statement was so ridiculous that I found myself laughing, too. Outmanuevered, Bridget stomped down the hall. I actually liked Carlie, I decided. What a surprise. I polished off my beer with a gulp, thinking maybe things might work out after all.

  “Becca, do you have a minute?” Darcy asked.

  “Sure,” I said, wondering if she would call us on our little game. Ruh roh. Following her out the door, I found myself in a large, fenced area. There was a bonfire inside a stone ring and big speakers blasted music.

  “Over here,” she said, grabbing one side of a trash can next to a table full of food. There was a good-sized crowd out here, although not huge. Maybe thirty people? “Can you help me carry this out?”

  I grabbed a handle and we hauled it toward a gate on one side of the fence. A man wearing a Silver Bastards cut opened it for us, frowning.

  “You want help with that, Darce?”

  “We got it,” she said cheerfully. Then we were out of the fence and walking down the side of the building, cutting down on the noise considerably. “Appreciate the help. I wanted to talk to you, and figured we might as well take care of this at the same time. Only way to get any privacy around this place, you know?”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” I replied, hoping I wasn’t about to get in trouble. “What’s up?”

  “Just wanted to check on you,” she said. “You and Puck have known each other a long time, but this still happened pretty fast. These guys don’t fuck around when they decide they want a girl. You okay with everything?”

  I stumbled on a rock in the darkness and nearly dropped my side of the big plastic bin. We stopped for a minute, catching our breath.

  “I think I’m okay,” I said finally. “You know how I wound up in Callup?”

  “I know everything Boonie knows, at least when it comes to you,” she admitted. “And I heard what you said the other night at the bar, of course.”

  Oops. I’d forgotten about my public confession.

  “I’ll bet Carlie’s curious as hell about that one.”

  “Carlie’s a good girl,” Darcy replied. “She had a thing for Puck, you know how that goes in a club. He’s not into her and when he realized there was an emotional tie, he cut her loose. Best he could do. You saved her in there. Some of those bitches can’t wait to cut a girl if she falls.”

  “Women will do that,” I said slowly. Darcy frowned.

  “Not all women,” she replied, her voice hard. “These girls drag in here, fuck one of the guys, and think they’re one of us. I don’t care how many of the brothers you screw—you fuck over the sisters, it’s not gonna end well. We have to stick together. Carlie’s not an old lady yet, but she’s still a sister in my book.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure. Can’t promise I’ll answer, but I will if I can.”

  “The Longnecks—they’re the MC my stepdad hung around with—they kept a lot of club whores around. Do the Silver Bastards do that, too?”

  “Yup,” she replied. “It’s a free country and the brothers bring guests here all the time. Some of them stick around, some of them don’t. Some find they aren’t as welcome as they thought.”

  “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “Boonie’s dick is the only one that matters to me,” she replied, her voice matter-of-fact. “As for the women, I care less about who they’re sleeping with than how they act the rest of the time. Like I said, fuck with the sisters and you won’t last. Bridget won’t be back if she keeps this shit up.”

  “Old ladies didn’t get to make those decisions in the Longnecks.”

  Darcy smiled sweetly. “We don’t get to make those decisions in the Silver Bastards, either. Yet the right decisions still magically happen. Nobody knows how, really. Guess it’s just all our good karma coming back to us.”

  My mouth dropped. Darcy winked.

  “You think those men don’t need us?” she asked. “Boonie likes sleeping next to me. Gets cold and lonely when all the old ladies take a girls’ weekend in Seattle. Would be even colder and lonelier if we didn’t come back, and one time we forgot to for nearly a week. Fortunately things worked out and we found our way ho
me again. Now things tend to work out faster.”

  My eyes went wide.

  “You serious?”

  “Do I look like a woman who will eat shit?”

  Point taken.

  “Let’s get this trash out. I’m sure Puck will be looking for you soon, and I want to make sure all the girls meet you first. That boy’s crazy about you—it’s cute. Like a pit bull crushing on a kitten.”

  Laughing, I grabbed my side of the can and we hauled it around to the front. One of the prospects came running, pulling out the bag and tying it off. Then he tossed it into the back of an old pickup at the end of the parking lot. We started back.

  “So how’s school going?” Darcy asked. “Morgan’s pregnant, and she said she wants to take some time off when the baby comes. I could sure use your help at the shop.”

  “I won’t have my license for another six months,” I admitted. “I can’t go full-time and still work until three every morning.”

  Darcy nodded, looking thoughtful. Then we were at the gate again. I passed inside to find Puck and Painter filling paper plates at the food table.

  “Go play with your boy,” Darcy told me. “Enjoy your night off together.”

  Nodding eagerly I walked toward him, noting that the party was starting to pick up outside. Several girls were dancing and one had pulled off her shirt. Puck saw me and grinned, handing over a cup of beer.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  “Only way the poor bastard gets laid,” Painter pointed out. “You should throw him a pity fuck later. Otherwise he’ll whine like a little bitch all night. Gets old.”

  “Fuck off,” Puck told him, pulling me in for a kiss. He tasted good, like whiskey. I never did figure out what happened to the beer I was holding, because five seconds later my legs were around his waist and he was walking across the grass toward the back of the lot. His hard cock pressed between my legs and my fingers dug into his hair desperately.

  I heard a few whoops and catcalls, and for a second I flashed on a memory of a party years ago. One where another biker had hauled me off into the darkness. Hauled me off and hurt me.

  Then we reached the back and Puck set me on a wooden table.

  “Fuck, I’m crazy about you,” he muttered, and the memory faded. He stepped into me, leaving no doubt just how much he meant his words. “I know you were nervous about tonight, but you’re doing great. Tell me to stop. Otherwise I’m fucking you right here, Becca. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”

  Music still filled the air, but back here darkness cradled us. It felt strangely private, despite the crowd, and a screen of low bushes blocked us off for the most part. I felt like I should protest . . . I just couldn’t remember why. Puck tugged down my tank and scooped my breast up out of my bra. Then his mouth covered it and lust took over. I fell back across the table as he followed me down, hands roaming.

  That’s when I realized I’d made a very serious tactical error.

  “Jesus Christ, these jeans are tight,” he grunted when he came up for air. I felt his fingers at my waist, trying to slip inside and failing. “Like a goddamned chastity belt.”

  I bit back a giggle, then pushed at his chest.

  “Let me up and I’ll fix it.” He growled but pulled back to give me space. I scooted down and hopped off the table, reaching for my fly. Unfortunately, that made me think of his fly and I got distracted. Seconds later I had his cock out, jacking it hard with my hand as he groaned.

  The sound reminded me of our first night together—it’d been good at first. Real good.

  Dropping to my knees, I decided I’d make it good again.

  “Becca . . .”

  I laughed as I drew him in deep, letting the sound’s vibrations surround him. I tasted a hint of salty pre-come as my fingers found his balls. Puck swayed, then his hand caught my head and he started guiding me.

  “I could watch you like this for hours,” he said. “Kneeling in front of me. Lips all wet and shiny from sucking my cock. Just needs one more thing.”

  Suddenly his fingers were tugging at my hair, pulling out the braid as my hair fell around my shoulders. I opened my mouth and took him back inside, savoring the taste. No matter what else happened tomorrow, in that moment Puck Redhouse belonged to me, and me alone.

  PUCK

  Mouth or cunt? Fuck, I couldn’t decide which I loved more. I’d learned something, though—no matter where I found myself inside Becca’s body, I wanted to stay there forever. Was definitely throwing out those fuckin’ jeans of hers tomorrow, though. Doesn’t matter how fuckable a woman looks in a pair of pants if you can’t get them off when it’s time to tap ass.

  Becca’s tongue traced the bottom of my cock as her fingers worked my nuts. She kept that up I’d be coming soon. Just like that, I made my decision.

  Cunt.

  Tugging on her hair I pulled free, then pulled her to stand in front of me. A satisfied smile curved that sweet mouth of hers. My hands dropped to her waist, fumbling with her jeans.

  “Get those things down,” I growled, full of frustrated need. Her eyes widened.

  “I thought . . . ?”

  “Pull down your fucking pants,” I repeated, reaching down to grab my cock. “I want in. Now.”

  Desire darkened her expression. In the distance I heard shouting, but I didn’t give a flying fuck what might be happening at the party. Becca reached for her pants, unzipping them and shimmying them to her hips with a twitch of her butt.

  “Shit, I have these boots on . . .”

  I caught her shoulders and turned her, pushing her down across the table. Her hands went out as she caught her weight. Then my cock was poking her ass. Memories hit me—how hot she’d been, how tight. I really, really wanted to get back inside there. Her body stiffened, and I rubbed her hip then reached between us to find her cunt, slick and sweet.

  Yeah, she was ready.

  Somehow I managed to hold off long enough to slide on a condom. Needed to get her on the Pill ASAP—riding her bareback the other night had been incredible. Wanted her like that all the time. The condom snapped into place and then I slid home, filling her with one hard thrust of my hips. Becca squealed and I caught her shoulders, controlling every move of her body.

  It belonged to me now.

  I started out with strong, steady strokes, although I couldn’t go as deep as usual. Her pants pinned her legs together awkwardly. Somehow it still worked—she actually squeezed me harder this way. Every movement carried me closer, come pooling in my balls. I tensed, stopping for a second because I wasn’t ready to blow just yet.

  “Puck . . .” Becca whispered as her body clenched hard on me. I think my heart stopped until she released me, then she did it again, wiggling her hips back at me. “Fuck me, babe. I’m really close.”

  I wrapped a handful of hair around one wrist and jerked her head back, slamming home. My other hand caught her waist, holding her tight enough I’d probably leave marks. Becca twisted, gasping every time I filled her and whimpering when I pulled out again.

  That’s when I really let go.

  In the distance music played. People shouted and laughed and I’m sure some of them were watching us. I didn’t care. My entire world had narrowed down to the sight of her ass bucking against my dick, her arms braced on the table as I plowed her harder and harder. Then she squealed and exploded around me, pussy clenching so fucking hard it hurt. I pushed through, impossibly close to my own release.

  It hit. Molten lava blew out of my balls as my vision blacked and faded. I was floating in space for an instant, waiting for reality to come back into focus.

  Damn. Damn.

  Reaching down to catch the condom, I pulled slowly free, wishing I could just stay planted there forever. Becca had collapsed across the table, her back heaving as she panted. Her ass taunted me, and despite the fact that I’d just come hard I wanted her again, right there.

  I’d hurt her the first time. Now I had to teach her how much it didn’t have
to hurt. Not tonight, unfortunately . . . I also wanted to come all over her face. Into that hair, too. Rub it in and mark her forever.

  Christ, I needed a list or something.

  Slowly Becca pushed herself up, turning to look at me. Beautiful girl. Bright cheeks, eyes at half-mast. Hair flying everywhere . . .

  I wanted to tattoo my name on her forehead. I’d kill any man who tried to touch her. No joke.

  “Not bad,” she managed to say. Then she giggled and I knew I was well and truly fucked. I’d never recover from this. Hell, I didn’t even want to.

  Becca Jones might be my property in the eyes of the club, but the reality was that she owned me and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.

  TWELVE

  BECCA

  Way too many thoughts raced through my head as we returned to the party. I kept waiting for the fear to crash back in. I should be worrying about Puck sharing me. Who I’d go with next. How much they’d make me drink, or whether I’d have to do any drugs . . .

  Instead my pants felt a little twitchy, and I had a couple scrapes on my stomach. Possibly a sliver. Otherwise I was good.

  Great.

  Happy.

  I kept breaking out in more giggles every time I thought about what we’d just done. Puck must’ve thought I was super drunk, but I wasn’t drunk at all. Hardly even buzzed. Nope, all I could think about was the fact that I’d won.

  Becca Jones had grown into someone who could have fun with her cute boyfriend—okay, probably not the right word for Puck, but you get the picture—at a party.

  Not only that, nobody bothered to stare at me, despite being rumpled and obviously well laid. They were too busy watching a couple of half-naked girls making out. That’s right—not one person cared what I’d just been doing out in the darkness. Felt liberating as hell.

  Then I saw the food tables and hunger hit me. I was starving. Clearly I’d worked up an appetite.

  “Let’s grab something to eat,” I said. “I think I interrupted your dinner earlier.”

  “For the record, feel free to do that any time you want,” Puck told me. “I’ll die a happy man.”