Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance

by St. Clair, Aubrey

  I haven’t said it yet, and I was hoping she wasn’t going to notice. The word apologize was hard enough, but she wants more, and I can’t deny her it.

  “Yes. I’m… sorry.”

  A little sound comes out of her throat, like a huff or grunt of dissatisfaction. “I’m sorry, Evelyn,” I say again. It’s easier the second time. “I really am. I was completely wrong to blame you. To not trust you. The whole reason I’ve told you everything that I’ve told you so far is because I did trust you. Because I do trust you. I just forgot that in the heat of the moment.”

  She looks at me intensely for a moment, as if still deciding whether to forgive me or not. Finally, she lets out a little sigh and nods. “Okay. I get it. But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet. You really hurt me, you know.” Before I can respond, she moves on. “Now why don’t you tell me what Ripper had to say.”

  And angry, explosive breath comes out of me at the sound of his name again.

  “He’s got pictures. Mostly of me. At the club in my cut. At the office in my suit. Zoomed in. There’s no denying that it’s me. I’m not sure how much he actually knows, to be honest. Ripper isn’t too smart, and I can’t imagine he pieced everything together. At least, not on his own. And these were professional pictures. Taken with a high-end camera from far away, or else I would have seen something. These weren’t cell phone snaps. Someone has been watching me, maybe following me, I don’t know. But the pictures show they know I’m at both the club and Piston. It wouldn’t take much now to figure out who I am over there. The fact that there isn’t any public, company paperwork that says I’m anything more than an exec might buy me some time, but it’s only a matter of time now before the truth comes out.”

  Evelyn’s mouth is open as I speak, and before I’m done her hand is squeezing my arm in consolation. “Oh my God, Sebastian, I’m so sorry. I really swear I didn’t tell anyone about you. I—”

  I shake my head and press my fingers against her lips. “I know,” I exhale. I knew it the other day, as well. “I know. Like I said, it’s not your fault. This was coming. I was always on borrowed time. It couldn’t last forever.”

  I let my fingers drop away from her mouth slowly, in no hurry to break contact with their softness.

  “So, he wants to use that to force you to step down as president?”

  “For starters,” I affirm, aware that my fists are clenched again. “But ultimately, he wants me out. Probably thinks he can take over, especially if he’s the one that outs me. He gave me a couple of days to decide if I wanted to do it the easy way, or the hard way, as he put it.”

  “But what’s the big deal, anyway? I mean, I get why being in a motorcycle gang would be bad for you at the office, but what does the club care if you’re running a company?”

  How can I make her understand? She’s so completely outside of this world, I’m not sure whether she can really grasp it but I can at least try and explain. I walk over to the couch and lean against it, feeling so drained from all of this.

  “The guys in the MC, they all joined for their own reasons. None of them come from easy lives, or from families with money, or anything like that. Some of them joined because they like to ride bikes, some of them because they like to be the tough guy. But all of them feel like outcasts. They all feel like the system is broken in some way, that it let them down, or that it’s their job to exploit it because they would be stupid not to. What I’ve been trying to do with them, move them into legit businesses… I’m starting to feel like even that is an uphill battle. Some of them hate it, for sure, but even among most of those guys that have taken to it, I don’t think any of them love the idea of an actual job. They joined the MC so they wouldn’t have to bother with a nine-to-five.

  “The only reason I’ve been trying to move them legit is to save them. Many of these guys, Ripper included, would take this club down a dark path if they had their way. And all that will lead to is death or prison. But if they heard that I was part of a corporation, especially one the size of Piston is now, and not only part of it, but that I started it, that I own it… well, that would be the ultimate betrayal to them. I’d be labeled a sell-out, and I doubt I’d have a single brother supporting me.”

  Evelyn joins me against the couch, resting her hand on my leg. “Are you sure about that? Maybe you aren’t giving them enough credit. Maybe they’d admire you for building something…”

  She trails off as I shake my head. “You don’t get it. What I do at Piston is the opposite of their world. The two just don’t exist together.”

  We’re both quiet for a few minutes.

  “So, what are you going to do?” she finally asks, her voice only audible because of how quiet it is in the apartment.

  I lift my shoulders and drop them heavily. I’m not one to give up, but I don’t see a lot of options. “Those pictures are out there now. The dots are ready to be connected. I don’t see a way to fix this. I’ve been trying to figure it out the last few days. Spending a lot of time alone, after work. I even turned off my cell phone and left it in my drawer so I wouldn’t let anything distract me. I don’t know who I can trust anyway, so I decided not to talk to anyone.”

  “Wow, you really must be serious, turning off your cell phone,” she says with a smile, giving my leg a squeeze. “So what does this mean? You’re just going to give up?”

  I lift my head quickly, feeling my face heat up at the question.

  “Hell no. I don’t give up on anything. If they want to take me out, I’m going to go down swinging.”

  Evelyn’s face brightens with a smile and her hand squeezes my thigh again. “I thought as much. So who are you swinging at? Ripper?”

  I nod. “For starters. But I’m not sure if he’s acting alone. Like I said, this is a bit too complex for him. And I know there are others unhappy with the way things are going. Some of them would be happy with a change in leadership if it meant going back to madness and mayhem.”

  “Who else?”

  That’s the million-dollar question. “I don’t know. Lots of guys might be. Hell, even Snake isn’t that happy with going legit. I honestly don’t know who to trust.”

  “You can trust me.”

  My eyes lift to meet hers again. The green tint has taken hold again, pushing back the amber from earlier. “I know that now. And I should have known it before.”

  She turns toward me, swinging her left leg around the outside of my right so that she’s straddling both of my legs and facing me, her face close enough that I can smell the sweetness of her breath. “You can’t do this alone,” she says.

  “You’re right,” I admit. And it’s true. I’ve been trying to go it alone for so long. I just can’t do it anymore. Maybe I never could.

  “So ask.”

  The warmth of her breath hits me again, and all I want to do is kiss her lips. I can’t tear my eyes from them, although I’m confused enough by her question that I almost do. My cock is growing in my pants, and I can feel it pressing against the bottom of her sweats. I reach around her waist and pull her against me, making sure she can feel my hardness.

  “Ask for what?” Maybe she wants me to ask to fuck her, but I can’t imagine she’ll say no. And I can’t imagine what I would do if she did. I want her too badly now. Not seeing her for two days and feeling like I may have pushed her away forever was harder on me than I would ever admit.

  “For help.”

  This time I do tear my eyes away.

  “I want to hear you ask for help,” she continues. “I want to know that you need me.”

  First an apology, and now this? I pull harder against her hips, grinding my cock against the cleft between her legs. I watch as she gasps, but then she pushes back with a hand on my chest, unwilling to be distracted. “I’m serious, Sebastian. You hurt me the other day. Not just that you didn’t trust me, but you made me feel unimportant.”

  “You are important.” More important than she should be to me. It took almost fucking things up co
mpletely to realize that. In her eyes, though, I can tell that she needs to hear me admit it. And I owe it to her, even if it’s difficult for me and my fucking ego. “You’re very important to me, Evelyn. I made a mistake the other day, and I went against my own judgment. I knew I could trust you, but I let old habits take over and I pushed you away, and I’m sorry. I want a chance to make it up to you. I won’t do it again. I’ve gone through too much of my life alone. I never trusted anyone enough to let them in as much as I’ve already let you in, and now that you’re in I don’t ever want you out. I can’t do this all alone anymore. I need help Evelyn. I need you.”

  The hand that was pressing against my chest begins to slip up until it’s resting on my face. Her eyes are shining now, but I don’t have time to stare into them before they close and she leans forward to press her lips against mine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EVELYN

  I’m not sure how it is that half an hour ago I was cursing this man, and now here I am with my legs spread and his head in between them, lapping at me as if he’d been lost in the desert for the last decade and my pussy is a magical oasis. And yet, with each draw of his warm tongue along my sensitive folds, every argument and bad feeling I had about him melts away even further. It’s getting harder and harder to even remember what is I was mad about in the first place. But at least he’s keeping to his promise of making it up to me. What he’s doing now is a great start.

  “Sebastian…” It feels like his name is being drawn out of me, pulled by the lips that are tugging at my clit, and the tongue that is delving deep down inside of me. The intensity of the situation and everything that he’s doing to me is building to such a height that when it stops suddenly, I almost feel dizzy and disoriented.

  “Do you forgive me yet?” His voice is husky, muffled by being down between my legs and close enough that his mouth brushes against my lips as he speaks. If there wasn’t so much of my own heat coming from between my legs, I’m sure I would have felt the hotness of his breath against me.

  “Not yet,” I say, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pressing him back against me. He hasn’t finished what he started, and he’s not getting forgiven until he does. Even if I can’t focus enough to remember exactly why I was so mad at him in the first place.

  I draw a deep and shuddering breath when his tongue touches me again, this time aided by a couple of fingers he’s managed to slip inside as well. I can feel my pussy squeeze down on them, gripping them tightly as if they were his cock.

  Sebastian’s cock. Right. His punishment isn’t over until I get that, too. His tongue isn’t enough. I’m sure whatever he did was bad enough that I can tack on that extra task. I doubt he’ll mind.

  I haven’t loosened my grip on his hair as my hand guides his head in quick circles along my swollen nub. The tension in my body is rising as I cast my own head around, trying to focus on something other than Sebastian’s skilled tongue in an effort to fight back my orgasm just a little bit longer. He still needs to be punished.

  Clothes are strewn around my living room as if a tornado had gone through, and the coffee table is still on its side from when he knocked it out of the way so that he could throw me down on my couch. Like last time, my pizza is untouched and sitting on the dining room table. We’ll need that after.

  My gaze returns to the man between my legs, and I almost lose my grip on the orgasm that I’m keeping at bay when I see the muscles of his back twist and turn as my hand continues to guide his head and neck. He has such sharp curves and defined muscles, only some of which are obscured by tattoos and more than one scar.

  Sebastian’s fingers curl around and up, stimulating me in a way that I can no longer pretend to ignore. I stop guiding his head, but I don’t let go. Instead, I press his face against me even harder and he takes the hint, pressing more firmly with his tongue and faster with his fingers as I let loose a screaming groan that is so loud I may need to apologize to my neighbors tomorrow.

  Before the waves of pleasure have stopped, I’m yanking him by the hair. “I need you to fuck me now, Sebastian.” His body follows the handful of hair that I’m tugging on, but not fast enough. “Now!”

  His body hasn’t even finished running along my sweat-soaked skin before I feel the head of his cock press against me with almost pinpoint accuracy. I can tell that he’s already hard, and a moment later, he’s completely inside of me. Fresh explosions of pleasure ripple across my insides. There is a moment where my rational side tries to argue that he isn’t even wearing a condom, but then my lustful and primal side takes over and that thought makes me even more heady with desire for him to continue. A man as careful and calculating as Sebastian doesn’t take chances. I have no doubt he’s clean, and I’m on the pill. Right now, all I want is to feel his hot flesh pumping inside of me, and as usual, he doesn’t disappoint me.

  I let my hands leave his head and roam across the muscles of his upper body, feeling them stretch and slide beneath my fingers as he thrusts. The quivering of my own body hasn’t stopped, and it feels like each time his cock slides along the slickened walls of my pussy, it extends my orgasm into one long, unending pleasure tremor.

  “I’m not wearing anything,” he pants, face buried against my head and breath starting to come in shortened gasps. He’s close.

  “I know, it’s okay. I want to feel you come.” He must like the sound of that, because his hips speed up and he slips one arm under my leg, slinging it up so that he can penetrate me even deeper. I let out a little noise in surprise at that move, but it feels incredible and I wrap my arms tightly around him to let him know not to stop.

  Sebastian’s hips are a blur as he presses me down into the soft cushions of my couch with each thrust. Just when I start to worry that I can’t take the sensations any longer, his body stiffens. I feel my pussy clamp down against his cock, which is throbbing now, spraying my insides with a warm coat of his own hot essence. I tighten my grip even more, holding onto the muscles in his back until I feel him finally relax and collapse onto me.

  Even once he’s done that, I don’t let go. I don’t want him to slip out, or to roll off. I want to feel his heaviness on top of me, surrounding me as I fall asleep with what I’m sure is the biggest smile my face has worn in a long time.

  I can’t help but feel conspicuous, walking into Axle’s with Sebastian in his Bash leather a couple of hours later. I’m sure it’s my imagination, but I feel like I’m walking bow-legged and every club member in the bar is watching me, each of them somehow aware of the fucking their president just gave me. I can still feel a tingle between my legs from the stimulation of his cock, and it makes me wish we had stayed in tonight. But Bash is convinced that he’s already waited long enough to deal with this problem and he wants to hit it head-on before Ripper makes a move to expose him.

  “Something’s up,” Bash mutters beside me. It’s not my imagination, after all. As we approach the back of the bar where the MC likes to hang out, it’s clear that everyone is watching us. All of a sudden, I wish it was for the reason I had originally imagined instead of what it more likely is. Ripper is there, and the grin on his face as he sees Bash approach is not a pleasant one.

  “What’s up, boys,” Bash says as he approaches his crew. His voice doesn’t betray any of the range of emotions I know he’s feeling right now. But his eyes are fixed on Ripper specifically, like a lion eyeing a hungry hyena that he expects to attack at any time.

  “Right on time,” Ripper says, his voice loud over the sound of the jukebox in the corner playing the Stones. There aren’t a lot of non-club customers in the bar on this Wednesday night, but what few there are have seated themselves as far from the bikers as possible and are making a concentrated effort to not pay any attention to the congregation around the pool table. “I was just telling everyone here about how you had an announcement to make.”

  Next to Ripper, leaning against the polished wood of the table, was Snake. He was watching Bash as well, but his expression
was hard to read without knowing him. Bash mentioned that he wasn’t sure if Snake was part of all of this, but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything to stop it, either.

  I can see the muscles in the side of Bash’s face tighten as he grinds his teeth. A quick glance down at his hands confirms he’s ready to punch the shit out of Ripper. Instead, he pauses for a moment and then says, “Right, sure. I wanted to have a chat with you first, though. In my office.”

  The smile on Ripper’s face drops, replaced with one of concern. His eyes flit down to Bash’s hands and he sees the same clenched fists I saw. Likely draws the same conclusion as well, because he looks quickly over to Snake.

  “Snake comes, too,” he says quickly.

  Some of the other MC members exchange looks, but then everyone seems to return to their own conversations or beers as Snake and Ripper head to the back door that leads to the MC offices.

  “Did you want me to stay here?” I ask.

  “No, you can come. There are no more secrets between us.”