by Deja Voss
Heat claims my spot on the couch, sprawling out with an emphatic groan.
“You better not fuck this up,” he warns from behind closed eyes. “She’s a good woman, Gavin.”
Coming from anyone else, I might not take it so seriously, but there’s a reason why Heat is our club chaplain. Matters of the heart are his wheelhouse. He lost his wife years ago to cancer and has kind of floundered ever since, but if anyone understands true love, it’s him.
“You think so?” I ask.
“I know so. You want to make it work, you better be willing to prove to her that you’re just as good of a man.”
I don’t know if I can. But I’m sure as hell going to try. Within seconds, he’s snoring loudly, the wheeze in his lungs sounding like something awful. I inch my way around the mess of bodies and broken glass and head to the basement to try and make good on my side of the bargain.
Sloan
I HEAR the heavy steel door squeak open as I stand in the bathroom mirror, doing my best to salvage whatever I can from Olive’s emergency overnight bag to make my face a little more presentable.
I admit, I look pretty hot in her zip-up denim dress compared to my usual attire. She fills it out a little better than I do, I think.
I hear the springs of the mattress squeal.
“What are you doing in there?” Gavin shouts.
“Putting on some makeup.”
“You know you don’t need that shit,” he says.
“Well I wanted to be pretty for you and I’m fresh out of blood and gravel.” I stand in the doorway smiling, taking in his glorious body.
“The fuck is this?” he asks, pulling a spoon out from under his back.
“Sorry,” I say. “Ollie and I got a little wild last night while you were out.”
I straddle his lap and he wraps his arms around me, running his hands up the back of my thighs, lifting my skirt a little.
“You ate all my ice cream, didn’t you?” His dark eyes have a mischievous squint to them, and the way he’s trying to look pissed off is so sexy.
“I even put the empty container back in the freezer for ya.”
He laughs, rolling me over on my back, kissing me on the lips, and I’m already turned on by his touch. So much for getting dressed. I reach for his shirt and he pins my arms down to my sides, unrelenting with his kisses.
“Not so fast, wild woman,” he teases. “We’re going on a field trip.”
“Oh come on,” I whine. “Can’t we just spend the day in bed?”
He brushes his hand down the small of my back, cupping my denim covered ass, and I squeal.
“Let’s go,” he says, standing up, gazing over my body as I pout. “I promise we’ll take care of you soon. I just want to get out of here before the place starts waking up for the day.”
“You don’t want me around your friends or something?” I ask.
“No, they’re a bunch of a fucking perverts.”
“And what does that make you?” I giggle.
He shakes his head at me and purses his lips.
“Just you wait, Sloan.”
I sit up on the edge of the bed and watch him as he strips down, his glorious muscular body not doing any favors for my current condition. He changes into a fresh black t-shirt and some tight jeans, worn and ripped in all the right places, and I realize it doesn’t matter if this man is clothed or naked. He’s just plain hot.
“Where are we going? Am I appropriately dressed?”
“You can wear whatever you want. Once we get there, though, I expect it to be a lot less than what you currently have on.” He picks me up off the bed and unzips the top of my dress just a little bit, planting a wet kiss on the top of my breast.
“Oh yeah?” I moan, a shiver running down my spine.
“Come on,” he says. He grabs me by the hand and leads me up the steps and into the barroom. I’m a little disgusted by what I’m seeing. There are girls in various states of undress sleeping on the floor and furniture, and the air reeks of stale beer and cigar smoke.
“Is this what you were doing last night?” I ask, genuinely hurt by the fact that he picked this over me. I have to watch where I’m walking, as broken glass is strewn across the hardwood floor.
“No, actually. We had a meeting that ran late. I didn’t want to wake you guys up so I just slept on that couch.”
He motions to a green couch in the corner of the room where Heat is passed out, his bandana covering his eyes.
“Cuddled up with Heat?”
“Yeah, is that weird?” he asks, his face completely serious before cracking up. “Old guy had a rough night. I think everyone did.”
“Well I slept wonderfully,” I tell him.
“Even after a half gallon of ice cream?”
“I’ll get you more, you big baby.”
We try to navigate our way around the room without stepping on people or puddles or any other incidentals laying on the floor and out into the morning sunshine. It’s one of those confusing eighty degree September days in Pennsylvania, where you can’t quite decide how to dress because you know at some point it will probably snow. Regardless, I don’t think I’ll have a problem keeping warm. Between the way he makes my blood pump to his big strong arms he can’t keep off my body, I feel like I’m in a constant state of having a hot flash.
We walk past the shed where I patched up Clutch yesterday and a tall man with long blonde hair is backing out of the doorway, a garden hose in his hand, spraying down the floor.
“Hey!” Gavin shouts. “How’s it looking.”
“Meh,” he says. “I’ll get some prospects to deep clean ’er down later.”
The man turns to me. Blue eyes, cut jaw, incredibly handsome and obviously bearded, I recognize him from the chaos down below yesterday, but I’ve yet to meet him. I’m more concerned with why Olive hasn’t snatched this guy up for her own, yet. He is definitely not hard on the eyes.
“Oh hey, girl,” he says. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He pulls me in for a hug. “He might pull that alpha caveman bullshit around the other guys, but I’m allowed.”
“That’s because you’re so repulsive the only way a woman will touch you is if she’s giving you a pity hug.”
“You guys sure are nice to each other,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“It’s kind of our thing. Been best friends since before we could grow a beard,” Gavin says.
“What are you guys getting into today?” he asks.
“Heading up to the house,” Gavin says.
“Oh, nice. That’s actually not a horrible idea. Maybe some of her smarts are rubbing off on you. Too bad it doesn’t work the same way with looks, you ugly fucker.”
“Your mom doesn’t seem to feel that way. Can you please tell her to stop calling me?”
“Get out of here,” he says, patting Gavin on the back. “If he does anything to irritate you my house is right down that road.” He points over his shoulder.
“Yeah, it’s the one full of real sex dolls. It’s creepy as fuck. You can’t miss it.”
“Bye, Brooks,” I say. “It was nice meeting you.”
I like the fact that Gavin has good friends and he’s willing to bring me around them. It’s so different than the way ,Arthur always kept me tucked away from everyone and everything in his life.
We walk to the garage, full of motorcycles lined up neatly in a row. He hands me a helmet.
“So where are we going?” I ask him. It’s such a gorgeous day outside, I don’t really care. Just getting to spend some time wrapped around him without worrying about the drama and chaos that has been the last few is going to be nice. I smooth my hair and put the helmet on.
“You’ll see,” he says, popping the kickstand. “Hop on, gorgeous.”
CHAPTER 21
Gavin
I don’t know why, but I’m nervous as hell right now. She’s seen my good, she’s seen my darkest, but taking her out to the farmhouse is like showing her my soul.
/> It’s just a house. It started as a renovation project to keep my mind off of law school, keep me on the straight and narrow, pay my grandfather a little respect, but every wall I knocked down, every window I hung, every board I sanded brought me closer and closer to what I ultimately want for my life.
A home, some quiet from the chaos, a woman, a family. I feel like if she sees the place and hates it, it will probably be a deal breaker. It means she hates me too.
The way she has her arms wrapped around me, her cheek pressed into my shoulders as I slowly weave my way up the dirt road, trying to avoid low-hanging branches, it’s cute. It’s light. It’s nothing like last night. It’s like dark and dirty Gavin is out of my system.
Well, maybe dark.
Dirty is a different story.
Knowing her legs are spread around me, those perfect breasts resting on my back, it’s hard to contain the pressure in my pants. Fortunately we don’t have much further to go.
The gravel driveway leads right to the old farmhouse. I can’t believe how far it’s come since I started working on it, but it’s taking forever to get it in perfect living condition.
I park my bike and she hops off, ditching her helmet and shaking out her long brown hair. She’s so perfect, so sexy, and the way she’s pacing down the driveway, looking all around in amazement, has me feeling all warm inside.
“This place is beautiful,” she says. “Who lives here?”
“Nobody right now.” I stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders, hugging her close. “Me, soon, though.”
Me and you, I want to tell her.
I probably could be living here already if I really wanted to. I just have a little more flooring to lay, and then appliances and odds and ends, but for some reason it hasn’t felt right. Like there’s one critical piece missing to this place being my home.
“It used to be my grandfather’s house way back when. The clubhouse too. This is where it all started.”
“It’s so you,” she says. “I mean, your apartment is nice, but I just can’t picture you living underground in a glorified frat house bunker. No offense at all. It just seems like it doesn’t fit with the whole vibe of the club. You have this amazing mountain to yourselves. Why are you guys holed up like that?”
She gets it. She’s a complete outsider and even she can see my grandfather’s vision.
“It’s mostly my old man’s paranoia. He likes to know what everyone’s doing at all times. He says it’s his way of keeping the club “safe” but it’s more a control thing. I never had to live in the mansion, but it was just convenient. You saw yesterday how things can go to shit real quick.”
“I didn’t see anything yesterday, Gavin, I swear,” she says, her voice timid and low. I turn her around to face me. I hadn’t really thought about what she must be feeling.
“You don’t have to say that. I’m sorry for what you saw yesterday, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you to talk about it. It’s just some shit I have to work on.”
She’s running her hands on my face, smiling up at me.
“Don’t be sorry.” She traces her fingers to my lips and I take them in my mouth, swirling them with my tongue until I notice that little arch in her back, the catch in her breath.
“Come on,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“You’re sadistic.” She pouts.
“Maybe a little bit.” We walk up the steps to the giant front porch and I unlock the front door while she looks around wide-eyed, soaking it all in. As we step into the A-frame, the smell of cedar fills the air.
“Wow,” she whispers. “You did all this?”
“I had a lot of help.”
We couldn’t salvage most of the interior walls or flooring, so we took the wood, dried it, planed it, and used it on the exterior walls. The whole place is open concept now, with giant bay windows everywhere you look for a constant view of the woods that surround it.
“This is insane,” she says. She’s wandering around, touching everything, looking out every window.
“Still working on some of the flooring, and the bathroom is a little primitive yet. I need furniture too. And a woman’s touch to pull it all together.”
She laughs at me, shaking her head.
“So that’s why you brought me out here. For some free interior decorating advice? Joke’s on you, Gavin. I will touch you any way you want me to, but I don’t know anything about this kind of stuff.”
“What about your apartment now? How did you decorate that?”
“Oh trust me, there’s not enough decorating in the world that could salvage that slum house. As long as I have a place to lay my head at the end of the day and neighbors with Wi-Fi I can steal, I’m pretty ok for the time being.”
“Well what do you think this place needs?”
“I dunno,” she says, running her hands over the granite countertops in the kitchen. “A dog?”
This woman. She makes me smile. For a girl who literally knows how to perform complex surgeries on a human body, she’s just so simple. And I like it. As far as I know, she likes dogs, eating food, fucking, and me. It’s every man’s dream.
“I do like dogs.”
“Good, cuz that’s a deal breaker in my book,” she says. “I think I’d also like to have a garden.”
“Oh would you?” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist. I can’t keep my hands off her, no matter how hard I try. The rough denim covering her skin isn’t going to last much longer.
“I mean, hypothetically,” she stutters. “If I were you, I mean…”
“Oh sure, yeah. I know what you mean. What else do you think? If you were me, I mean.”
“Hmmm. Bearskin rugs? An outdoor bathtub and shower? A king-size four-poster bed with sheer curtains?”
“What are you trying to do? Turn my grandpa’s house into some kind of fuck palace?” I toy with the zipper that runs down the front of her dress, pulling it down lower and lower, exposing her perfect round globes. She’s not wearing a bra and I go from zero to maximum overboner the second I notice.
“I mean with all the ladies you have to entertain, might as well set the tone right out of the gate.”
“I’m only trying to entertain one lady right now,” I whisper in her ear.
“Then keep going with that zipper, Gavin,” she pleads.
“You’re such a good girl, Sloan. Always ready for me,” I say, slowly pulling the zipper further and further down until her dress is hanging there open. “I love the way your panties match your bra.” I eye her exposed pussy, the tops of her thighs already slick with her juices. I’m glad I’m just noticing this no-underwear thing now, because otherwise it would’ve taken everything in me not to bend her over a long time ago.
“Oh that?” She blushes. “It was kind of a matter of just not having any.”
“Well I think,” I say, sliding her dress the rest of the way off, letting it fall to the floor, “maybe you should start doing that all the time for me.” I cup my hand around the outside of her mound and give it a few teasing slaps, forcing her to spread her legs just a little wider. Her soft breathy moan lets me know I have her exactly where I want her. Nude, spread, and ready to beg for my cock.
“You think you could do that for me?” I ask, tapping on her swollen clit with my middle finger. She’s soaking wet, her lips moving, no words coming out, just breathy sighs. “No panties, little skirt, ready for me to bend you over and take you anytime and anywhere I want?”
I slide my finger inside her slick core and her eyes close. “Please,” she says.
“Is that what you want, Sloan? You want me to use that needy pussy of yours any time I feel like it? You want to walk around full of my cum all day like my good little slut?”
“Yes,” she whines. “Please, Gavin. Fill my pussy.” I slide another finger inside her, working her harder, bringing her that much closer to the edge while she grinds into me, her moans intensifying.
; “You love being nasty for me, don’t you?” I slap her ass cheek firmly, her tender flesh jiggling in my hand.
“Oh my God, Gavin,” she wails. “You’re gonna make me cum!”
She’s writhing, shuddering, as I give her another slap, her firm skin reddening under my palm.
“Cum for me, babe,” I growl. “Let it all out for me.”
Sloan
He’s making me crazy. Batshit nuts. All the sensations ripping through my body right now, his words, his fingers twisting inside of me.
It feels so dirty, so wrong, and yet, somehow, I feel empowered.
As I let myself climax hard on his hand, completely fucking losing it, the way he’s looking at me isn’t like some back-alley whore, but a work of art. He brings his mouth to my pebbled nipple, taking it in, intensifying the waves of pleasure rolling through me, but all I want to do is get on the floor and make him feel just as good as he does for me.
I pull away, kneeling in front of him, anxious fingers tugging at his belt, pulling on his zipper, yanking down his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop so that I am face-to-face with his glorious erection. He looks down at me with a knowing smile, and I palm his hard shaft in my hand, pumping it up and down, a bead of precum forming at the tip. I lick my lips and begin to take him into my mouth.
His taste overwhelms me. Spicy and manly, I swirl my tongue as I try to take in his girth.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.”
I guide his hand to the back of my head, showing him that I trust him, letting him take the lead, letting him use me however he wants to.
“Such a good girl,” he growls. “You think you can take it all?”
I blink up at him with watery eyes, smiling, relaxing my lips around his pulsing cock, taking it as deep as I can.
He cradles my head and begins to thrust slowly in and out, long strokes, going a little deeper each time. He loses himself in his thrusts, grinding into my face, and I am loving every minute of it, gripping the back of his rock-hard thighs tight in my fingers, running my fingers down the striations in his muscles.
