Chasing Demons (Angels and Sinners Book 3)

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Chasing Demons (Angels and Sinners Book 3) Page 7

by Trixie Brewster


  I have never had what people would call hypersexual. Since I realized that I could have an orgasm, I was hooked. The feeling of release was like heaven to me and my mind. I did enjoy sex like the next person, but I needed something more. Sure, one-night stands have become a standard in my life two years ago, but my vibrator gets the job done better than most penises can.

  Every person has sexual fantasies, mine sometimes throw me for a loop and shock me. I want to feel safe yet helpless in the bedroom. I want to lose control and just let my freak flag fly high in the sky. I even have a fantasy of public sex. See not your healthy sexual desire.

  “And why is that a shame?” Tilting my head to the side, I take in his expression. His eyes widen for a second before he gives me that smile again. I think the temperature has just risen in the room. I resist the urge to fan myself, just barely.

  “Maybe, just maybe I would volunteer for you.” My mind is going ninety to nothing with that statement. God, I would love to this fine specimen naked and spread out for me. Maybe standing so that erection is on display for me, and afterward, we make our own painting using the left-over paints, and a king-sized canvas.

  I could call it rolling in the paints.

  “What was that about rollin’ in the paint?”

  “Did I say that out loud?” Oh fuck, did I seriously just say that. The mischief in his eyes makes my breath hitch in my lungs.

  “Yeah, babe, you did.” He gives me a wink as he gets up from the little table. “Do tell, what does rollin’ in the paint entail?”

  Apparently, my brain and mouth decided to do their own thing. I had no control of the words coming out of my mouth. “Well, I saw this thing a few years ago. Basically, you get a large canvas paint each other up and have sex. Afterward, you frame the sex painting and hang it.” I shrug my shoulders, and then realize what I just said, out loud, to Jag.

  Jag barks out a laugh, I put my head in my hands. Both dogs bark. “Damn, babe, that sounds like fun. I’m game when you are.” Snapping my head up, I glare at him.

  “Not funny.”

  “Wasn’t joking.” To prove his point, Jag lifts me out of the chair and slams his lips over mine. He backs me up against the wall and pins my body with his hips and that hard erection that I have been dreaming about for months. Bringing my hands up to his face and Jag doesn’t allow me to touch him for too long. He pins my hands above my head, and I let out a little whimper. In response to my whimper, Jag pushes his erection deeper into me.

  My body decided to take control; my leg lifts on its own accord giving him better access to my center. With his free hand, Jag pulls my leg high on his hip and grinds into me. His tongue runs across the seam of my lips, I grant him access, and he takes it without a second thought. The man kisses better than I have ever had, ever. In all my nearly thirty years, I have never been kissed like this. Like he knows exactly what I need, and only he can give it to me. His tongue takes command of my mouth as he duels with me.

  He hits my clit just right and I cry out breaking the kiss, his lips trail hot kisses down my neck that go straight to my clit and make me lose my head. He bites my nipple through the material of my bra and shirt. I give off another whimper as my pussy clenches wantonly. “Look at me, babe.” My eyes snap open to meet his dark brown gaze. “You want this?”

  Did I want this? Well duh! But I wanted something more than a simple fuck. “Yes, and no,” I answer honestly. “Yes! I do, but I don’t want a one and done.” I lay it out there for him. He nods and retakes my lips. I guess I gave him the right answer.

  He pulls away again. I whimper as I miss his contact. He lets me go and takes a step back as my legs slowly lower back to the ground. He rakes his hands through his hair. “Fuck me.” I don’t say a word as rejection hits me square in the gut. I look down at myself and wonder if I had gone to the gym and got the extra fifteen pounds off if tonight would be ending differently. He calls Diablo, and both leave my room. No explanation, he just goes. As the door closes, I slide down the wall and let the silent tears fall.

  Chapter 9

  Jag

  Damn it, how did I let that get out of control? Damn it all to hell, she is too damn innocent for my carnal desires. I could hurt her. There is not a soft spot on my body. I am too damn old at thirty-six to change my ways or my sexual needs. I wanted to tie her up and fuck her hard all damn night long. The desire was so keen to put clamps on her nipples and maybe even on her pussy. I am so fucked up I the head. I don’t know how to do vanilla. I wouldn’t even begin to understand how to treat a woman like Chloe. She needs more than a romp in the sheets. I can give exclusive, not a problem. But what she needs, she needs touch, she deserves to be loved the right way. Not having to deal with my fucked-up mess of a life.

  Tugging on my beard, I start packing what little clothes I had laying around. Fucking hell, I never kiss. And what had I done, I had kissed her and mouth fucked her with my tongue. Her fingers felt good on my face, too fucking good. I had to take control back, so I pinned her hands above her head. She whimpered, maybe she liked it. Perhaps I could do it; I could be what she needs.

  “No!” I yell out. I couldn’t do that to her. She was like an angel. She could chase your demons away. Not her job, not her problem. All I would bring to her would-be enemies and demons that she doesn’t deserve. Chloe is all class and womanly, not a girl. Her curves felt right pressed up against me. Those hips and her heavy tits. God did it feel good. I didn’t deserve a woman like her.

  Having everything packed, I snagged the leash, and we leave the hotel and head back to Redding. Dialing P when I got on the highway, she answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, boss.”

  “P, I am going to need you to keep an eye on Chloe.” I sounded gruffer than I planned to. My balls had an ache in them. My hand wasn’t doing the job anymore. My dick was craving more. Craving Chloe.

  “Everything ok boss? You sound pissed.” I could hear the smile in her words.

  “I am not, just need to get back home.”

  “And not take that fine piece with you. Come on, Jag. Never seen you walk away from something willing before.” I snorted at her. She didn’t even see me take a woman home. “Oh, shit, she got under your stone wall, didn’t she? Damn.”

  “P, just do the job, alright.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  The drive back to Redding was uneventful. I tried to listen to some music on the radio, but nothing made my anger go away. Why was I angry? The truth was that I wanted Chloe to damned much, I didn’t like the idea of another man getting anywhere near her. I shouldn’t want anything to do with her. She had an innocent look to her. I didn’t do righteous. I went after the freaks, the ones that I couldn’t scare with my desires. The ones that needed it as bad as I did. And they didn’t look anything like Chloe. She was sweet, working to save animals that didn’t have a home. She wanted to save California one stray at a time.

  I wanted to get the scum off the streets. I wanted to make sure that those that did evil felt evil. They got the treatment that they deserved. Like Angie’s rapist, he got what he deserved. I knew I had problems; I enjoyed my job a little too much. But with what I went through as a kid, it fits. There are sometimes things that I refuse to do, such as, well, I can’t think of any at the moment, but I am sure I can find them. The memories come flooding back to me as I think about the reason I am why I am.

  I had a terrible stepdad growing up; he wasn’t the nicest man around the block more like a monster. I had my own personal boogieman. He was the one that I couldn’t seem to kill. When my mother bolted on me and left me with the monster, I was distraught and angry. I was only eight when she ran. She never wanted a child, and when he began to hit on her, she ran and left me to deal with the blowback. What mother does that? Leaves their child with someone like that? Still to this day I haven’t forgiven her. I have looked for her; she passed away four years ago. No, I didn’t deal out that sentence. Cancer did that for me.

  The man k
ept me and raised me as his own, but that was where the father figure ended. The man hated me as I got older, and I felt it every damn day. I grew up in fear of him; I didn’t want to piss his ass off. I already knew what happened when I stepped wrong. Don’t get me started on when he was drunk, either. The man nearly killed me more times than I liked to think of. I knew what torture felt like by the time I was eleven, I knew starvation, and I knew desperation. But I never knew love, care, or compassion. How could I give that to a woman? How could I give that to a child? I don’t even know if I have that capability in me. I did once upon a time, but that was beaten out of me.

  I tried reaching out once, and only one time. I learned my lesson to never get someone else involved in my life. He killed the teacher without any fucking remorse and made me help to hide the body. After that, he beat me within an inch of my life. I have never had a serious relationship, I don’t know how to treat a woman, how in the hell would I know how to do that when all I had growing up was resentment and pain.

  All I knew was pain; the night I got the scar on my face was my last straw. The man held me down at sixteen after beating me with a ratchet that was supposed to be my prom night, needless to say, I didn’t make it. The words he told me still ring in my head. “You will never amount to nothing, boy; I will make sure of it.” He took out his pocket knife and carved into my face. The pain of the tip of the knife hitting bone is something I have never forgotten. The one scar that is visible to all seems to have defined who I am in other people’s eyes. I am a monster, a destroyer, a freak. Everything that my guardian wanted me to think of myself. I get to see the evidence when I look in the mirror.

  I didn’t have the family that I needed growing up, but I got it in the Angels and Sinners MC. I didn’t have to walk on eggshells with my brothers. I got to be me, the man that I became after all the shit I went through growing up. I had stability for the first time in my life. I wasn’t a piece of garbage that they would throw away. I didn’t want to feel that again. That was why when Chloe stated she wanted it all, I left. That woman could throw me out like yesterday's garbage if she wished to. Hell, she didn’t need a man like me. I was damaged beyond repair. No one could fix me, help me, or love me. It just wasn’t in the cards for me.

  If I have to move, then I will. I can’t let my shit blowback on that woman. Or any woman. Slamming my hand on the steering wheel. “Fuck it all to hell.” Knuckles turning white as I gripped the steering wheel. I saw the sign that stated I was coming into Redding. Mind made up, I knew what I needed to do.

  Chapter 10

  Chloe

  “Talk to me, Chloe. What is really on your mind?” Dr. Moore persisted. This was only the third time I was asked this question. I knew what was wrong with me; I just didn’t want to admit it out loud. Apparently, I am not even that amusing to be seen. God, he didn’t also want to go all the way with me. I was down in the dumps again.

  “I met someone.” I continued to stare up at the ceiling, trying to keep my mind blank. I didn’t want to hurt anymore; I didn’t even know why I was. I mean come on Chloe get a grip, he was my neighbor, we only had a handful of interactions and those left me wanting more. Maybe I really am crazy about wanting a man that didn’t even want me.

  “Go on.” Dr. Moore prodded.

  “Well, he was my neighbor, and I kind of had a thing for him. You know he is boiling hot, like not just boy next door, but like hot, fan yourself and buy new underwear hot.”

  “Ah, so you two had a fling.” I snorted out my laugh.

  “No, it was one-sided.” I let it fall off my lips as I sigh.

  “There is more to this, isn’t there. Tell me, why is it bothering you so much?”

  “He kind of saved me from my mother and Thomas at the gala last week. Thomas proposed. Not something I wanted. Then there he was, putting my mother and Thomas back in their places. Then he kissed me and ran off into the night. I haven’t seen him since. Hell, I don’t even know why I am bothered by it. It just hurts a lot.” I sigh again and keep staring at the ceiling. I can feel the numbness take over, and I want to scream out for help, but there isn’t any help for me. Only Dr. Moore that can prescribe some medicine that can make the numbness worse and make me sleepy. Not what I want. I already sleep most of my days off away anyway.

  “Rejection. Chloe that is why it hurts. You feel rejected. Like your feelings were one-sided.” Dr. Moore was right about me feeling rejected. Hell, I was denied. It hurt, but I think what hurts more is that he moved. The for-sale sign was put up not four days later. He wanted so far away from me that he moved from his own house. Message loud and clear. Leave me alone. Maybe he knew how broken I was already on the inside.

  “Yeah, your right,” I tell Dr. Moore. I just want to go to bed and curl up and eat ice cream and binge-watch lousy TV shows and be left alone. I had been avoiding Zane and Todd’s calls. I had even avoided Kate and her questions about my night with Jag. I had just smiled and said it was uneventful. I didn’t want anyone to know how much I was hurting. It wasn’t just his rejection that hurt. It was everything. Life, memories, my mother’s voicemails, Thomas’s flowers, and messages left at work and on my doorstep. The man just didn’t take a hint. I felt like they were wearing me down to the quick, and I was done fighting. I just wanted to live my life alone and happy. Was it so much to ask for happiness?

  I tone out Dr. Moore as the thoughts in my head take over. I keep rewinding that night over in my head. What did I do wrong? Was I to needy, or was it something I did? Was it what I said about the pineapple pizza? Maybe it was when I asked for more. I bet that was it. See needy. I am to needy, I want what I can’t have.

  “So, I will see you next month, I am taking a long vacation.” Dr. Moore tells me as I am leaving the office. I nod and make my way to the car. I needed something to make me feel anything. The mood I was in wouldn’t do; I couldn’t let it drag me down into the dark depth of depression. I felt like I was being pulled into the depths while I was kicking and screaming. My emotions were dull, and my head was full of everything negative about my life. I tried to think of something positive. Like how Vixen is always around me. She is the sweetest and makes me smile. But even that doesn’t make me feel any better.

  I made my drive to my tattoo artist, I usually had an appointment, I just hoped that I could get worked in today, I needed some work done to feel. The pain of the tattoo has helped me in the past. Maybe I could get something today to help to pull myself out of my funk. When I pull up to Sinners Ink, I find Brick and his wife talking in the front of the shop. I had already given Brick an idea of what I wanted to get done next. Maybe just maybe he could help me out.

  “Hey, Chloe.” Brick waves to me when I come in.

  “Hey,” I say back. The man is seriously smokin’ hot, but he doesn’t do what Jag does to me. God, I am pathetic. “I know I usually have an appointment, but do you have any time for something today?” I ask, crossing my fingers that he has time for something anything, I need some ink therapy today and stat. Brick nods to his new secretary, she is a pretty thing, but holds nothing to Korey his ex-secretary and now wife. The woman has her own beauty. Today her hair is blue, and she is rockin’ that baby blue color.

  “Come on back to my office, Chloe. I got a couple of hours.” Brick tells me as Korey gives him a porn style worthy kiss. She whispers something to him before she turns to leave. I give her a small wave as I follow her husband back to his ‘office.’ As I get into the tattoo area, Brick turns to me and quirks up an eyebrow. “What are we doing today?” I shrug my shoulders; I remember giving him a sketch of a cherry blossom tree that I wanted on my thigh or back.

  “C’mon Chloe, I need something to work with today.”

  “Do you have time for the cherry blossom tree?” He nods and points to the tattoo chair. “Where we putting that baby?”

  “On my back?” I cringe as I hear the question in my voice.

  “Good choice, you know the drill girly.” I decided on my back so that
I could keep my pants on today. I wasn’t in the mood to be half-naked below the waist. Lifting up my shirt, I cringe, noting that I wore an everyday cotton bra. Not that I wanted to come on to Brick or anything, but usually when a woman decided to show her intimates, she tries for something sexy, or at least I think that is what one should do. Kind of like a confidence booster. Laying face-first into the chair, I can hear Brick chuckle at me. “You can sit up if you like, or here let me give you some breathing room.” He detaches the headrest so that my face fits into the little face hole. “So do tell Chloe Bowman, why the sudden need to get some ink today?” Of course, on the day I don’t want to talk, he turns into chatty Cathy.

  “Just needed some ink therapy is all.”

  “Umm, hmmm.” I hear him respond as he gets to work with the tattoo gun. The hum of the machine soothes my nerves and mind as I feel the familiar pinch of the needles digging into my skin. A few months ago, we had discussed the placement of the tattoo and the size. Brick was a hell of an artist, and his wife was even better at sketching. The pair made an imposing team. Although she works from home most of the time, she still spends some time, when she can get away from their three kids at the tattoo shop.

  As Brick settles into the sketch and begins to shade some of the tree, my body and mind finally relax. I breathe a sigh of relief. “Damn, babe, you did need this, didn’t you?” Brick breaks the spell of my personal therapy. I let out a small, sad laugh.

  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  “You know, you are welcome to come out to the clubhouse if you want after this.” He states. I am floored, no one that I knew was invited out to the clubhouse unless they were fender fluff, Ol’ Ladies, or there for a good time. Not just to drink, but to put out. Not something I want to do.

  “Uh, I don’t think-”

  “Now, Chloe, before you get the wrong thing in your head, you need to know I am inviting you to hang out with the Ol’ Ladies of the club. You look like you could do with a few drinks, ‘sides it will be on the house.

 

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