Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  The club was packed and loud. It wasn’t my sort of joint. I preferred something more southern, more honky-tonk and less like a shitty east coast banger. But Janine was making the calls, and I was just following along.

  After work, I dropped her at her place, swung by my own to change into fresh clothes, and then picked her up. She came down in these tight black jeans that made her ass look fantastic and this black shirt that showed off just a hint of her fantastic tits, her hair done up. She looked like a fucking sexy biker chick, which was what she was going for.

  She directed me to this club and was about to leave when she saw the line, but I knew the bouncer. I got us in without any trouble, and she dragged me right to the dance floor without another word.

  My cock was fucking rock hard as she danced with me, our bodies sweating, and she fucking knew it. She felt my length pressed against her and didn’t mind one bit, even seemed to like it. I was betting the girl was soaking wet with every dip and move of her hips.

  The place was packed with college kids, probably most of them from the University of Texas. They were hipsters and assholes, preppy douchebags from all over the country. I stuck out but didn’t mind.

  And Janine, she was by far the sexiest girl in the room. She made the college chicks look plain and boring compared to her. Janine had had some look in her eye ever since I’d picked her up, some intense stare that drove me fucking wild.

  I couldn’t tell what she was thinking about the marriage thing. We hadn’t talked about it since then, and she didn’t seem interested in bringing it up. If she didn’t want to talk, I was fine with just grinding against her sweet fucking ass.

  But something was going on. She talked about not having freedom soon. I couldn’t imagine she was going to let herself get married off to Jetter, that fucking Rebel traitor cunt, like some medieval slave or some shit. Janine had more fire than that, more spark. She couldn’t be tamed by some fucking shithead like Jetter.

  Maybe there was more going on than I realized. And in that moment, dancing closely with her, our bodies moving together, I found myself not giving a fuck. All I wanted was her sweet ass pressed against my cock, moving to the beat of the music, swaying back and forth.

  “You’re the sexiest girl in the fucking place. You know that?” I said into her ear.

  She turned her head back toward me, tilting her chin up. “You think so?”

  “It’s the damn truth,” I said. “These little girls have nothing on you.”

  She smiled. “I believe you. I can feel the proof.”

  I grabbed her hips, pulling her ass harder against my cock. “Damn right. You get me fucking rock hard. You know that?”

  “Good,” she said, giving me this fucking smile. “Come on. Let’s get a drink.”

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me off the floor, heading over toward the bar. We waded into the crowd of people and I easily made room for us, parting the little asshole college kids with ease. They didn’t like that, but I didn’t give a fuck and silenced their complaints with a look.

  “Whisky,” I called out. “Gin and tonic for the girl.” The bartender nodded and returned with our drinks.

  “Thanks,” Janine said, clinking my glass. “Here’s to not getting hammered.”

  I laughed, knocking my drink back. “Why not? That’s a bad toast for drinking.”

  “Can’t drink like I did last night,” she said, laughing. “I can’t physically do it.”

  “I’m sure you can, but whatever you want.”

  “Whatever I want?” she asked, sipping her drink through the little straw. I couldn’t help but see a little suggestive smile in her eyes.

  “I’m here to make you happy,” I said. “It’s my job.”

  “How are you going to make me happy, Clutch?”

  “I’ll start by getting you back on that dance floor and making you nice and tired.”

  “Work me hard?” she asked.

  “That’s right,” I said. “I’ll take you wherever you want. Tonight you’re free.”

  “Yeah,” she said, “I’m free.” She put her drink back down on the bar and took my hand, pulling me back toward the dance floor.

  This time, we danced face to face, bodies pressed close, her arms around my neck. Her eyes were locked on mine, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze roam along her body as she danced.

  I’d never felt so much fucking tension for a woman before. Normally I knew what I was going to get, had no fucking trouble picking a woman out and getting her into my bed. But with Janine, I knew I couldn’t do that. Even if she wanted me and I wanted her, we both knew that she was forbidden. She was way off-limits, and there was no turning back.

  Besides, I had a feeling she was just acting out because of the whole wedding thing. Not that I fucking minded, but I wasn’t interested in getting a girl in bed if she didn’t really want it.

  I needed her dripping and begging for it first. I wouldn’t touch her before she was practically moaning my name.

  We danced like that for what felt like an hour. Finally, she pulled me back off the dance floor and we waded back to the bar. We got another quick drink and then she turned toward me.

  “I’ll be back!” she called over the music.

  “Can’t let you out of my sight,” I said.

  “Want to come into the ladies’ room with me?” she asked.

  “I would love that,” I said. “Get you moaning in the stall.”

  She just shook her head and walked off. I watched her go over the heads the crowd and saw her disappear into the bathroom.

  I got another whisky and looked around. It was getting late, and the place was packed with hammered drunk douchebags out looking for their next date-rape victim. I could still feel my cock, hard and pulsing in my jeans, and I scanned the room, looking for Janine.

  I didn’t spot her, so I downed my drink and got another. A few more minutes passed as I got the next glass of whisky, and Janine still wasn’t back.

  Grumbling, I rolled through the crowd toward the bathroom. My mind was running through a list of possibilities, from finding her dead on the floor to realizing that she had ditched me and run off.

  I could feel anxiety take my gut, and I moved fast closer to the bathrooms. I had to make sure she was okay, couldn’t fail in keeping her safe. I wasn’t the kind of man to fuck up like that.

  As I moved down the hall, I spotted her just ahead. She was standing near three asshole college kids, their preppy clothes marking them as total dickheads. She was frowning and talking, and I could tell something was wrong as I got closer.

  “Come on, baby,” the one guy said. “Just a drink. You look like you need one.”

  “I said I wasn’t interested,” Janine said.

  “We can make you interested,” the other guy said.

  I loomed up behind them and Janine spotted me. “Clutch,” she said.

  The three guys turned to look at me.

  “There a problem here?” I asked.

  “No problem, you fucking goon,” the leader said, grinning at me. “This bitch was just leaving.”

  “What did you say?” I asked him.

  “Clutch, come on,” Janine said, pushing past the guys and trying to pull me away.

  “Yeah, go ahead. Take your dry cunt slut away from here,” the kid said, “you fucking lowlife.”

  His two friends laughed and high fived.

  I stepped forward and slugged my fist into the kid’s jaw. He barely had time to flinch before I knocked him down. He dropped to the ground.

  His two friends came at me. I ducked the first punch and came up with an uppercut to the second guy’s chin. He stumbled back as I turned, catching the fist that was heading toward my face, and twisted the guy’s wrist.

  I kicked his knee, dropping him down, and then let his wrist go. I slammed my fist into his face, knocking him flat down.

  The guy I uppercut punched me in the head from behind. I stumbled, still holding on to my whisky glass with my lef
t hand. I spun around, ducking another punch, and stepped in to elbow him in the nose. He dropped to the ground, his face bleeding, his nose broken.

  I knocked back my whisky, proud that I hadn’t spilled a drop.

  “Come on,” Janine said, pulling me away.

  “Later, boys,” I said.

  She led me away as a crowd was forming around us. The fight hadn’t lasted more than fifteen seconds, and people were just figuring out what had happened.

  I deposited my empty glass on a table as Janine yanked me out the front door. I waved to my bouncer friend with a grin; he’d never be letting me back in, which was fine with me.

  “Why did you do that?” Janine said, rounding on me in the parking lot.

  “They insulted you,” I said, “and I’m your bodyguard.”

  “I don’t need you to take care of me like that.”

  She stepped close to me, her lips hanging open, anger rolling off her.

  “Sure you do, princess,” I said. “It’s what I’m good for.”

  “Yeah, and that’s it.”

  “No, not just that.” I grabbed her hips, pulling her against me. She didn’t fight it. “I’m good for a few other things, too.”

  “Clutch,” she said, my name barely a whisper.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you until you scream my name right here in the parking lot and I’ll let you go.”

  She didn’t say a word.

  I crushed my mouth against hers, kissing her hard. She threw her arms around me, pressing her perfect body against mine, returning the kiss.

  Fire burned through my veins, my cock raging hard again as we kissed. Her lips were perfect, her tongue soft against mine, her taste filling my mouth. I kissed her hard in the parking lot, and in the back of my mind I knew I was making a mistake.

  But it was a delicious fucking mistake.

  Slowly she pulled away, her mouth open, breathing deeply.

  “Take me home,” she said.

  I nodded once and got onto the bike. She climbed on behind me, wrapping her arms tightly around me as I pulled out into traffic.

  I rode hard back toward her apartment, my heart beating hard. I knew what I wanted, and I knew she wanted it too. It was wrong, a betrayal of our club, but I couldn’t help it, not after the way she kissed me back, hungry and passionate.

  We got off the bike and quickly went up the stairs. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. I followed her in and she shut the door behind me.

  I stepped toward her. She pressed her back against the door and stared at me with these eyes like lightning, needy and hard.

  “Wait,” she said as I got close. “Wait.”

  “I’m not patient,” I said. “I take what I want.”

  “Listen to me, Clutch.” She held her hands up, and I saw something shift inside her, some subtle thing that made all the difference. “We can’t.”

  “Why? Give me a good reason. I know you want this.”

  “I’m going to marry him. I’m going to marry Jetter.”

  I stopped in my tracks, staring at her. She looked back defiantly, but I could see it there in her eyes. She wasn’t fucking lying.

  She was really going to marry the scumbag.

  “Okay,” I said and stepped back. “Tonight is about what you want.”

  “Clutch,” she said.

  “I’m crashing on your couch again,” I said, “until Larkin tells me otherwise.”

  “Fine.” She looked away from me.

  I walked over and sat down, putting the television on. I could feel her lingering back toward the door for a second before disappearing into her room.

  “Fuck,” I said softly to myself.

  She was really going through with it. I never imagined for a second that she’d actually do it.

  She was really going to marry that traitor fuck, all for the good of the club.

  11

  Janine

  I woke up, my heart racing.

  I’d just been dreaming. In the dream, I saw Clutch take me the way I wanted him to. Instead of anything standing in the way, instead of the marriage looming over my head, the club, our complicated loyalties, our past, there was just me and him.

  Biting my lip, I slipped my hand down my panties under the covers. Without thinking, I began to slowly touch my soaked clit.

  I thought about Clutch kissing me again, his mouth hard against mine, his body big and strong. He’d press my body against the door and strip off my clothes a little at a time, all the while kissing my neck, my mouth.

  He’d whisper in my ear. He’d tell me what he wanted from me, how he wanted me to suck his cock, how he loved to make me beg. I’d be soaking wet when he finally put his hand in my panties. He’d grin at me, that delicious smile, and say he knew all along.

  And he’d rub my clit with his incredible hands. I’d try to stay quiet, but I wouldn’t be able to, not with Clutch and his filthy mouth working my body. He’d pull off my pants, peeling them from my skin, and toss them aside. I’d be powerless as he spun me around, grabbing my hips, his fingers pressing inside me.

  And I’d moan his name, my body pressed against the door, his hands holding my hips, as he pressed his big cock deep inside me. I’d moan loudly as I took him, shocked at his size.

  He was a rough, dirty man. He would be gentle with me, and I wouldn’t want him to be. He’d start to fuck me harder, pressing his cock deep between my legs, holding on to my hips and rocking his cock deep inside me.

  He’d pull my hair, slap my ass, and make me beg him to keep fucking me. Clutch’s big cock would slam inside my pussy as he ravaged my body.

  He was an animal. I knew he’d be incredible, but I couldn’t give in to him. I kept touching myself, faster and faster, my pussy dripping wet.

  In my fantasy, Clutch would fuck me rough and deep, getting deeper and harder with each stroke. He’d whisper into my ear about how good my pussy felt, how much he loved savaging my tight body.

  And as I’d get close, he’d suddenly stop and pull me back, grabbing me by the hips and practically carrying me along with him. I’d be panting and begging for him to keep fucking me.

  He’d sit down on the couch and drag me down on top of him, spreading my legs wide. He’d pull his shirt off and toss it aside, and I’d trace the ink across his chest as he slowly lowered me down onto his thick, hard cock.

  I’d throw my head back and groan as I began to slowly ride his length. I’d slide up and down along his hard cock, my pussy dripping wet, my mind crazy and wild with desire for him.

  He’d hold my hips and fuck me, pushing himself into me, his delicious lips against my neck. He’d tell me how he loved to watch my hips ride his cock, how he wanted me to ride him faster, harder. I’d keep moving my hips, moving faster and faster as he slapped my ass. I’d grind down on him, his rough hands on my breasts, his lips at my neck, taking him, riding him, making him fuck me.

  As I got closer, my hand working my clit, I had to bite down on the comforter to keep from moaning. I kept picturing Clutch’s tattooed body fucking me, making me sweat, working me within an inch of an orgasm and holding me there, making me beg for it.

  He was the type of man that made women beg, and then always delivered.

  I made myself come then, trying not to moan, biting down on the comforter. My body spasmed as the pleasure washed over me, my mind locked totally on Clutch and only Clutch.

  It slowly passed, and I lay there panting.

  I’d never gotten myself off with a person in the other room before, let alone imagined that person.

  What the hell was happening to me? I was going to be a married woman soon. Maybe I didn’t want to be, but I was going to do it for the club.

  The club needed me, and I needed to prove that I cared about them. They’d given me so much. The least I could do was help save some of their lives.

  I couldn’t live with myself if I had a chance to make the war go easier for them and didn’t do everyth
ing in my power to make that happen. The men of the Demons MC did hard things all the time. I just had to be strong.

  I slowly got out of bed and made sure to put on some clothes this time. I wrapped a robe around myself just to make sure. As I left my room, I peeked into the living room.

  And saw Clutch sitting on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table, without a shirt on.

  His body was ripped and hard, all rough muscles and tattoos. I couldn’t help but stare, my mouth hanging open, at his incredible body. He hadn’t noticed me yet, as he watched the morning news, a cup of coffee in his hands.

  I quickly tore myself away and went into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and did something with my hair.

  I had to get ahold of myself.

  I walked back out and went into the kitchen.

  “Morning,” Clutch grunted.

  “Put a shirt on,” I said.

  He grinned. “Why? You distracted?”

  I made a face. “If you’re staying here, you’d better at least try to stay decent.”

  “Whatever you say.” He grabbed his shirt and pulled on it, and instantly I wished he hadn’t.

  “I need to go to the clubhouse,” I said to him.

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  I bit my lip but didn’t respond. I looked at him for a second but decided I didn’t want to press. I got some coffee and went to my room to get dressed.

  The ride out to the club was easy. We didn’t talk much, and I got the sense that Clutch wasn’t in the mood for chatting.

  That was fine with me. I was about to go agree to something that seemed truly horrible, even though I knew it wouldn’t be real.

  I’d never actually marry this guy. I’d say the words and play the part, but I’d never really be his wife. It was only real and only had power if I let it.

  We pulled up out front and Clutch killed the engine. I climbed off and he just looked at me.

  “Not coming in?” I asked him.

  He stared at me silently for a second, his gaze intense and brooding.

  “You sure about this?” he asked me.

  “Yeah,” I said softly, “I am.”