UnTouch Me (Savage Beast MC Book 5)

by Hayley Faiman

  I watch as his back stiffens, he drops his chin at the same time I wrap my hand around his waist. “Avah, it’s okay,” I whisper.

  Her gaze flicks to mine, her finger still pressed against his chest. “No, nuh huh, it is not okay,” she growls. “This asshole just marched his ass in here and now he thinks he’s going to tell us what to do and how to do it. I do not think so.”

  Taz turns his head, jerking his chin down and looks at me. I can see the barely contained anger in his gaze and I know he’s minutes away from unleashing it on Avah. I’ve seen him mad before, like all the other guys, I’ve seen what happened when they unleash their anger. Woman or not, he will not be kind when he delivers his blow.

  “Avah, please. I need to talk to him,” I murmur.

  Her eyes flash and she lets her hand drop from his chest. “I even think something fishy is going on and I’m calling the cops,” she shouts.

  Taz doesn’t say a word, he completely ignores her as he stares into my eyes. Avah doesn’t walk away immediately though, instead, she lifts her hand and pushes his shoulder. Taz’s head whips over to her and I don’t miss the low growl that escapes as he waits for her to say whatever it is she’s itching to say.

  “Touch a hair on my best friend’s head. The cops will be here before you can even blink, fucker.”

  My eyes widen as she spins around and stomps toward her room. Taz takes a step back into my room, wraps his hand around my door and then forcefully slams it closed before he spins around to face me.

  “Your friend is a goddamn cunt,” he barks. “But it’s clear she loves you and she’s stupidly brave.”

  “She’s not stupid,” I whisper.

  His lip twitches before he jerks his chin toward the door. “She just went head-to-head with a member of the Savage Beasts. She threatened to call the cops on me, more than once, and she expected to live, expects to live. That’s stupid, babe.”

  My lips curve up into a smile. “Maybe, but you wouldn’t hurt someone that I love, who loves me just as fiercely.”

  “What I wouldn’t do is test that theory, Trista.”

  Gulping, I take a step back, my eyes wide, realizing just how serious he is. Taz shakes his head once as if he just can’t quite believe me.

  “Where’s my father?” I demand.

  He snorts, his boots taking a step toward me, then another. My legs carry me backward until the back of my knees slam against the edge of the bed and I’m forced to fall back, seated. Lifting my chin, I look up into his angry gaze.

  My breath hitches when he reaches out. I flinch as his hand gently cups my cheek. Slowly, I open my eyes to look into his.

  “You think I’d hit you like that?” he asks.

  Licking my lips, I shrug a shoulder. “I think if you got angry enough, you’d lash out,” I admit.

  He frowns, then shifts his gaze to the side before he brings it back to me. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t deny my words. I almost snort, but I don’t. He’s on the edge, holding onto his control by a thread, but I don’t know why.

  I don’t know why he’s back, why he’s angry and why he’s looking at me as if he doesn’t even know who I am, when out of everyone on this planet, aside from Avah, he knows me better than anyone.

  “Who are you, Trista? You go by Tristiana, you’re with some douche that I know you’d never even glance twice at on a regular day. So, explain this shit to me and explain it now,” he snaps angrily.

  His fingers shift and they sink into my cheeks, holding me still as he looks into my eyes, his gaze not hiding his building rage before he releases my face and takes a step back. He lifts his hand and runs his fingers through his shaggy hair.

  “I’m an escort,” I admit.

  Rage flashes in his eyes and he closes the distance between us before I can take my next breath. His hands wrap around my waist and he picks me up, standing. One of his hands slides around my waist, the other he buries in the back of my hair.

  “You’re a whore. You left the club to come out here and be a whore?”

  His voice is low, his eyes searching mine and the disappointment that I see reflected in his gaze makes me feel sick to my stomach. I should clarify, I should tell him that I haven’t slept with my dates.

  I should say a lot of shit, but I don’t. If he wants to believe I’m a whore, I know this man, I know the Beasts in general. There is no explaining anything to them when they are dead set on believing something to be fact.

  “I’m a whore.”

  TAZ

  Her words, voiced, out loud, they send a punch to my gut. I didn’t think it was possible for three words to make me feel so goddamn sick, but fuck, here I am.

  I don’t release her though.

  Whore or not, she’s mine and I’m not going to let her go. Not again. Not this time. She wants to spread her legs? She can do that shit for me. She can spread every part of her fucking body for me—I fucking expect it.

  “Not anymore, at least not for anyone else. You’re coming home,” I state.

  Her lips part, but I refuse to listen to her bullshit. Slanting my head to the side, I cover her mouth with my own and fill it with my tongue. Pulling her against my chest, I wonder how I even left this bed a couple hours ago.

  Trista is mine. She can fight me all she fucking wants, but her body knows what it wants, what it needs and that’s me.

  Moving my hand from her waist, I slide it down and grab ahold of her ass, pulling her even deeper against me, grinding my hips against her belly.

  “Taz,” she breathes, breaking the kiss.

  Her eyes are still closed, her face splotchy and swollen from crying. She still looks beautiful, always will. She lets out a small sigh as her eyes slowly open. Her sweet daze disappears quickly, but I’ll bring it back, as soon as she gets whatever she’s about to say off of her chest. I’m fucking beat and I need to sleep.

  “I haven’t. I haven’t slept around. There was only once since I left you,” she whispers.

  Lifting my hand from her ass, I cup her cheek. “You think I would fucking care?” I ask. “You think it would make you less mine, that if you fucked a hundred men, I wouldn’t throw you on the back of my bike anyway?” I ask.

  Trista licks her swollen lips, then shifts her gaze to the side before she brings it back to me. “I’m not going back to you. I’m staying here. The threat is minimal, it’s not a reason to run. I’ll go to the crew here if I feel unsafe.”

  Tugging her head back by the grip that I still have in her hair, I dip my chin so that my face is close to hers. Lowering my voice, I keep it a low rumble when I speak. I don’t want her to think that she has a choice, something she clearly thinks she has right now. She doesn’t. She’s leaving here on the back of my bike.

  “You are leaving here with me whether you like it or not. I’m not leaving you here to be a target,” I bark.

  Her eyes widen and she attempts to pull away from me, but I don’t let her, my grip is firm. “Why do you fucking care so much?” she asks, her voice nothing more than a struggling whisper. “You don’t give a shit about me. You said so yourself. You’re twenty years older than me and not looking for more than anything but a hole to fuck. I’m not going back there for you to put me up in some house so you can have me when you want me and your whores when you want them. I don’t fucking think so.”

  I watch as tears well in her eyes and they instantly fall, as if she doesn’t have the strength to fight them back any longer. I should feel like shit, I should feel guilty because every single word she’s just said is the truth, and apparently, it’s hurtful to her.

  I don’t know why it would be. She knows that’s the life and her being on the back of my bike means a fuck’ve a lot in that world. I’m trying to give her the respect she deserves, not just because she’s a daughter of the club, but because I want her at my side.

  Her tears suddenly turn to laughter and she doesn’t hold back as she bursts out either. “You are seriously confused, aren’t you? I mean you rea
lly think that I want to be shoved into a house in town, visited a few times a week for a dick appointment, maybe pop out a couple of your kids to keep me busy and go to a party here or there at the clubhouse, don’t you?”

  “Don’t see any of the other Old Ladies complaining,” I point out.

  She bares her teeth, her gaze narrowing at me. Seems like we’ve been having this same fight for fucking hours and I’m getting tired of even talking about it.

  “Are you offering me that? To be your Old Lady, to be your wife?” she hisses.

  I shake my head once as she starts to struggle, push, and attempt to wriggle out of my grasp. It doesn’t work, I tighten my grip in her hair and on her ass, plastering her body against my own. Lowering my face, I touch my forehead to hers and inhale her scent.

  “Take what I’m offering, babe. Come back home and be with your family. This shit isn’t you. The tits, the hair, the makeup. None of it is you. You’re Trista, sweetest woman I ever met. Long legs for days, sweet little body packaged in a tank and cut-offs. Miss you,” I admit.

  She lets out an exhale and I think she’s going to agree when she speaks, it fucking hurts. “You threw me away, Taz. Let me be who I am now. Let me be. You clearly don’t want me and this is all because you don’t want anyone else to have me, either.”

  “You come home with me, you can fuck who you want, babe. As long as you end the night with me. I won’t say shit about it. I just want you safe.”

  I’m surprised by my own words. It feels like begging, and I don’t beg, but fuck, I want her safe and I want her home. Granted, I may take back my offer to let her be with anyone else. I can’t imagine what I would do if I watched her with one of my brothers. I’d be liable to kill them both, just the thought makes me feel completely out of control.

  “You’re such a dick,” she breathes. “I don’t want to fuck anyone else, Taz. That’s the whole goddamn problem.”

  Touching my mouth to hers, I decide that I’m done talking, at least for now. She will be on the back of my bike before I leave here. I’m not leaving her unprotected, I’m not leaving this apartment without her either, so she better get her fucking shit together.

  Chapter Six

  TRISTA

  I know I shouldn’t do it as soon as I shimmy my panties down. I’m stupidly still in his shirt. Reaching between us, I pop the button of his jeans and slide those down as far as I can without breaking our kiss. Feeling his tongue tangling with mine, my entire body breaks out in a shiver.

  Wrapping my hand around his length, I stroke him, once, twice, three times before he pushes me away a few inches. I feel a wave of rejection, taking another step backward when I watch him shove his jeans the rest of the way down, then he toes out of his boots.

  Silently, he snakes his arm out, wrapping it around my waist, pulling me back against him. He bends his knees, wrapping his hands around the backs of my thighs as he picks me up and turns me around.

  Lifting my hands, I grab ahold of his shoulders and whimper when he slams my back against the closed bedroom door. Throwing my head back, I don’t even notice that it bounces off of the door, mainly because he fills me in one swift move. How has he only been gone a few hours, and yet, I missed him?

  His mouth touches the corner of mine, then I feel his lips skim my skin as he moves down the center of my throat, stopping just at the base of my collarbone, sucking my skin before he gently bites me and releases.

  “I’m not walking out of this apartment without you,” he rasps against my neck. “You’re mine, Trista. Enough with this shit.”

  I dig my nails into the leather of his cut at the same time he pulls out, then slams back inside of me, causing all of the breath to leave my body with each thrust. He rolls his hips, grinding his pelvis against my clit every single time, my eyes rolling in the back of my head and words dying on my tongue.

  Taz’s mouth slowly moves back up to my neck until he takes my bottom lip between his teeth and gently bites down. His tongue snakes out and licks the place he kissed, at the same time he swivels his hips.

  “I’m not going with you,” I exhale breathlessly.

  He chuckles. “Yeah, you are.” He pulls out until just the tip of him is inside of me and I expect him to slam back home, but he doesn’t.

  Opening my eyes, I bite my bottom lip, shifting my gaze between us, then lift it back up to meet his. Those black eyes of his are liquid, dangerously mischievous, and downright gloating.

  Narrowing my eyes on him, I press my lips together and start to push against his shoulders, but he’s like a brick wall.

  “You’re an ass,” I hiss.

  He hums, running his nose alongside my own. “I’ll be deep in your ass soon, so keep it up, babe.”

  “Quiet,” I snap.

  He chuckles. “Not your place to tell me shit, babe. You know the rules.”

  “They don’t apply here.”

  He throws his head back in laughter, his eyes practically glittering with delight when he brings them back to meet my own.

  “The rules always apply, babe. Now, you’re coming back home with me, aren’t you?”

  “I’m home,” I grind out.

  He shakes his head once. “You aren’t. You know it. You don’t belong with those douchebags. You belong home with us, with your family—with me”

  “You take me home and I’m just a glorified whore, so what does it matter if I stay or go? It’s all the same.”

  Saying the words aloud, they make my stomach clench. Even though I know that I’m an escort here, that I can be a whore if I so choose, it bothers me to think about myself that way. It bothers me that he thinks of me that way.

  I watched my mother give sex to men easily in exchange for one thing or another. I never wanted to be like her. I want to marry Taz, be his Old Lady, have half a dozen of his babies and ride away into the sunset.

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I realize that those fantasies are just that. He doesn’t want an Old Lady. He wants a whore, granted he only wants me to whore for him, but that’s what he wants. He wants to be free, he wants his cake and to eat it too.

  There are women who are okay with the life that he wants. They would be glad to share it with him, and maybe at one time I would have been happy to be that for him. Not anymore.

  I want more. I want all of him. I left because I knew that I would never have it and I can’t be near him and not fall into him every single time I see him.

  Lifting my hands, I cup his cheeks and look into his devilishly handsome face, one that he knows is handsome. A face that even as time marches on, looks closer to my age than he does my father’s.

  “Better to be mine than countless others, right?”

  Tears fill my fucking eyes again and I’m no match for them, not right now, they immediately start to fall down my cheeks. Taz lifts his hand and uses the backs of his fingers to wipe them away, his cock still just at my entrance and unmoving.

  It’s all too much.

  I pull him closer to me and thankfully he follows, filling me completely again, groaning when he does. I let out a sigh, wrapping my legs around him a bit tighter to keep him there. His mouth touches mine, but he doesn’t kiss me.

  “What do you want from me?” he asks.

  “I could ask you the same question,” I exhale.

  He chuckles, pulling out, then sliding back inside of me. I let out a sigh, loving the way that he feels, and knowing that this could be the last time that I feel this again. Except I know that if he has his way, I’ll be his plaything until he’s tired of me.

  Taz hums. “I can’t give you what you’re asking for, it’s too fucking much. I’m over forty years old and you’re asking me to change everything about my life, about who I am.”

  “I’m asking you for commitment. I’m asking for love and devotion. I’m not asking for much, not really.”

  He clears his throat, his mouth still pressed against my own. “You’re asking for everything.”

  With that, he does
n’t speak again, and he doesn’t allow me to speak either. Instead, his tongue slips inside of my mouth and he pulls out before he begins pounding inside of me.

  My breath comes out in pants until I’m on the edge, and when I come it takes me by surprise. It doesn’t build, instead it rushes through me and I can’t do anything but close my eyes and let it take over my entire body.

  Taz slams into me a few more times until he stills and I feel his cock twitch as he fills me with his own release.

  “Mine, Trista. Done with bickering about it. You’re mine.”

  TAZ

  I carry her to the bed, my half-hard cock still buried deep inside of her. I lose her heat as soon as I shift her to the mattress. She looks up at me through lowered lids, tears staining her cheeks. Fuck, I wish she wouldn’t cry so damn much.

  Shrugging my cut off, I climb into bed beside her and wrap my arms around her body, pulling her back against me. She’s still wearing my shirt and I close my eyes as I bury my face in her neck. Sliding one of my hands up to cup her tit, the other I glide down to cup her pussy.

  “Taz,” she breathes, sounding as if she’s about to protest.

  Licking her sweet neck, I grunt. “Sleep, Trista. Tomorrow you’re packing your shit and you’re coming home, beautiful.”

  I squeeze her cunt and her tit simultaneously when she tries to speak, again. “Sleep,” I grunt.

  She lets out a sigh and thankfully doesn’t say anything else. I wait until her breathing becomes even before I allow myself to relax. Holding her like this, I can imagine that it isn’t temporary. This is what I want with her, it’s what I’ve always wanted and never allowed myself to have.

  I will never be the man that she wants, the one that she deserves, but for whatever reason, she still wants a part of me, no matter how much she fights it. One day she’ll be strong enough to leave me again, and I’ll have no other choice but to let her.

  However, that time is not now. She may not think that Angel Ramos Junior is a threat, but I know that he is. He was raised much like I was, in this life, and she is exactly who I would go after if I were him.