SAVAGE HEART (Layne & Shelby Book Two) (A Devil Call MC Book)

by Fawkes, Ana W.

  There was no escaping me.

  I put a hand out telling Jet to hang back. I was going to fucking take it from here.

  I throttled my ride and made damn sure Shelby heard me.

  When I spotted her car, I grew angry.

  Who the fuck was she to go behind my back and take off? Did she not get what I was trying to do around here?

  I sped faster and faster. Shelby’s car stayed the same speed, meaning I gained distance on her. Then I saw her head move. She looked in the mirror, probably worrying the Mountain Killers were coming after her again.

  She spotted me and quickly pulled her car to the side of the road. I rode right up to the front of her car and turned my wheel. I killed the engine, tore off my helmet, and stormed the car. I ripped open the door, my hand latched on her arm like a vise, and I pulled her out of the car.

  She yelled, swung at me, and I threw her back against the car. I put my body against hers as she shook her head. The goddamn woman was scared half to death. My hand touched her jaw, forcing her head to be steady.

  “Fucking shit,” I growled. “Look at me.” She fought. “I said look at me!”

  Shelby stopped. Her hair was in her face, dancing with her heavy breaths.

  My left hand twitched. I thought about taking my gun out and… doing what, Layne? You going to shoot her? Fuck you, man. You can’t hurt her.

  I brushed the hair out of her face.

  “What the fuck are you thinking?”

  Shelby lifted her knee and hit me in the balls. I stepped back and she put both hands to my chest and shoved. That gave her enough distance to try and get back in the car.

  “Why did you even stop in the first place?” I yelled.

  All she could do was shake her head.

  So I had no choice.

  I took out my gun. I then shot out the two tires on the driver’s side of the car. The gunshot rang and the tires hissed as they deflated.

  That’s when Shelby finally gave up. She had been gripping the wheel tight. Now, she simply put her hands up, giving in. That’s not what I fucking wanted for her. I wanted her to understand me and trust me. Not this running bullshit. Nothing good could come of it. And judging by the look on her face when she looked at me, I knew something bad had happened.

  I pointed my gun at her, hating myself for doing so.

  I ordered her out of the car.

  “Keep your fucking hands up, sweetheart,” I said. “Don't make me…”

  “You going to shoot me?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “You should. Just put a bullet between my eyes. I deserve it. I know I do.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m deep in this. I was probably the one who shot up the bar.”

  “You know that’s impossible,” I said. “You were with me. I was looking right at you when that first bullet went zinging by. How the fuck could you have done anything wrong?”

  Shelby stared at me. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t completely there. It was almost haunting to look at her. I shut my eyes for a second and collected myself. Then I lowered my gun. Of course I wasn’t going to shoot her. I wasn’t going to fucking kill her. I just wanted to keep her safe. I needed to keep her close, keep her mine. Fuck, I had to figure out how to kill her mother.

  I inched closer to her and grabbed her arm again. I pulled her close to me. She was like jelly, loose, ready to collapse.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked.

  Shelby looked at me. “They know. They’re everywhere. They’re coming.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “You should have stayed away, Layne. You should have found another charter. I should have left a long time ago. This is why my mother left. She was smart. She was right.”

  I shook at Shelby. “Don’t fucking talk about her. Ever.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  I gritted my teeth. Shelby wanted me to hurt her. She wanted me to shoot her. Goading me into doing something I’d regret later. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. I walked Shelby to my ride and gave her my helmet.

  “We’re going home, sweetheart.”

  “I have no home,” she said.

  I pushed my body against hers, pinning her against my motorcycle. “Yes you do. With me, you have a fucking home.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “A bed in a closet. Like I’m some kind of fucking animal.”

  “Don’t run and I won't have to chain you up.”

  Shelby spit in my face. The spit dripped down my cheek. Her eyes went wide, cheeks turning red. I touched my cheek and wiped the spit away.

  “You’ll pay for that,” I whispered.

  I pointed my gun behind me and unloaded the rest of the clip into her car. The back window, shattered. Hell, all the windows, shattered. I even managed to get a couple bullets stuck in the windshield.

  “You’re leaving it like that?” Shelby asked.

  “Yeah. Let them think you were attacked.”

  “Layne…”

  I grabbed Shelby’s face. I pulled her mouth to mine and kissed her. “Sweetheart, you’re done talking. You’re done running.” I ran the tip of my nose against hers. “I’m going to take you back to the clubhouse and fuck you.”

  12.

  (Shelby)

  Layne held my wrists with one of his large hands. He walked me through the lot like I was a prisoner. Everyone there stopped to look at me. Nobody dared to speak a word.

  “Get back to work!” Layne bellowed. “Find something to do. We have enemies that want to fucking kill us.”

  Layne kicked opened the clubhouse door and squeezed my wrists tighter. He put me against the bar and pressed up behind me. I could barely breathe with his muscular body against me. To my left I saw Ax standing at the bar holding a bottle of beer. He looked concerned for me. Finn came walking from the meeting room and froze.

  “Drinks!” Layne ordered.

  A prospect brought him beers and then we were on the move again.

  As Layne walked by Finn, he said, “We’re meeting at midnight. I want a full table. Call everyone who is still out there and bring them back. Send out prospects to canvas the town. All riding, no stopping, no matter what.”

  Layne didn’t let Finn respond. He pushed at me and we were walking again. When we turned the corner, he put me against a wall. His put the beers on the floor and his hand cupped my ass.

  “You like that, don’t you?” he growled.

  I didn’t respond.

  “You want to fucking run from me? You want to get yourself fucking killed?”

  “No,” I whispered. “I was…”

  “Shut up. You’ll talk when I tell you to.”

  Layne’s hand reached around and slipped between my legs. He pushed up, driving my panties against my sex. I throbbed, thrust, ached with a burning wetness that demanded Layne’s touch. Rough, gentle, whatever, I just needed him so badly.

  Fuck first, talk later.

  That was perfectly fine by me.

  Layne opened my jeans and his hand cut down into my jeans and panties. One of his fingers curled and pulled, rubbing against my sensitive clit. My knees bent a little as I sighed.

  “You’re soaking wet,” Layne said. “Christ, sweetheart.”

  His fingers pressed harder, swiping left to right over my clit, each time sending pulses of intense pleasure up and down my body. It made me jump. I bit my lip to keep from screaming right there in the hallway.

  Layne pressed his body harder to mine. His hand moved down, his fingers cutting down along my center. He went beyond my pussy, teasing me, cupping his hand over me.

  “This is all fucking mine,” he said. “Do you fucking understand me?”

  “Yes,” I whimpered.

  “You ever try to leave again and you won’t be back here. I don’t care who you are.”

  I nodded.

  I felt my pussy throbbing against the palm of his hand. It was simply torture that he was there but not doing a
nything. My toes curled tight. My nerves were shaking.

  Just fuck me. Touch me. Finger me. Fuck, Layne… fuck…

  Layne pulled his hand back and sank two of his thick fingers into me. I groaned as he pushed as far as he could reach. My depths were ready for him, my hips rocking forward and back.

  Layne took his hand away from me. He let my wrists go and then spun me around. He showed me his two fingers, glistening from the sweet wetness he caused.

  “Taste, sweetheart. Right now.”

  I parted my lips and Layne offered me a taste of myself. I licked his finger. He licked the other finger.

  Fuck, my body was on fire.

  Layne slipped his hand back into my pants and panties, rubbing my clit even harder. He knew right where to get me and how to do it. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall.

  “Move, now,” Layne bellowed.

  He turned his hand and grabbed my panties. He walked, taking me with him. As fucked up as it was, I felt one of his rock hard knuckles press against my smooth skin, putting pressure against my clit. I was so ready, so achy, I thought I was going to come as I walked.

  Layne took me to his room, a room I hadn’t been in for a while now. The second I was inside, Layne’s smell flooded my nose. That sexy musky smell of leather, sweat, man, his soap and deodorant. The hottest smell ever. What my sweet smell did to him was what his smell did to me.

  I melted even more.

  Layne threw me forward, my belly crashing to the bed. He was then right there, against me, leaning over me. His hands were under my shirt, touching just below my breasts.

  “Take those fucking pants and panties off right now,” he whispered into my ear.

  Layne eased back just enough to give me some room to do as he ordered. I pushed at my jeans and panties down to my knees. Then I kicked them off the rest of the way. Layne pulled me back and brought me to my feet. His hands raced up the rest of the way, taking my shirt off. His fingers grabbed the clasp of my bra, twisting it, rendering me fully naked for his pleasure.

  His fingers touched my shoulders. Then they ran down my back, sending chills everywhere. Down to my ass, he cupped with both hands. That’s when I felt his lips touch my neck. And then in the most seductive move I’d ever felt, Layne kissed inch by inch, following my spine all the way down. I started to shake with anticipation, my body so close to the edge it almost hurt. I clawed at my own legs, wanting so badly to just rub my clit to bring myself to climax.

  One of his hands touched my lower back and pushed.

  Layne bent me over. I looked back and all I could see was his massive hands on my ass. Cupping, squeezing, spreading me. I felt his burning hot breath between my legs.

  “Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re practically dripping.”

  I opened my mouth to say something but Layne stole my words with the slice of his tongue to my pussy. My body jumped and shook. I cried out as he went right to work. I felt the pressure of his perfect tongue against my folds, my hole, flickering at my clit. In a matter of a few seconds, he’d thrown me over the edge.

  My knees buckled and I started to fall to the floor. I clawed at the bed to hold myself but my legs had lost feeling. Layne’s powerful grip held me wide open as he devoured me. The tip of his tongue was everywhere between my legs. I pulsed and throbbed, spilling everywhere and Layne was there to clean me up.

  His tongue then kissed and licked up one of my ass cheeks and to my back. He pulled away and stood up behind me. His hands grabbed at my hips and pulled me back to my feet, still bent over.

  “Get fucking ready,” he said. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  I heard the zipper of his jeans and then he touched me. He was thick and hard. My center was tender. I was still soaked. One hard thrust and Layne sent me forward to the bed. He buried himself deep inside me. His cock feeling endless. His jeans pressed against my ass. His belt buckle touched my back.

  One of his hands grabbed my hair and pulled it away. He turned my head and planted his lips to my cheek.

  “I fucking love your pussy,” he groaned as he thrust.

  My body jumped. The full feeling made me cry out. It hurt a little but felt good a lot. My body was at war with itself.

  Layne pushed back and then started to fuck me. He held my hair tight, pulling when he wanted me to fuck back at him harder and faster. His other hand squeezed at my ribs tight. He thrust with grunting force.

  I was all his, whether I liked it or not.

  It made me wonder if this was how he fucked other women when he was looking to just get off. Was that what I had been reduced to now? Just a piece of pussy to fuck?

  His hand let go of my ribs. There was an achy relief.

  I let out a breath and looked back just in time to see - and feel - Layne pull out of me. I saw his cock standing rigid and tall, wet with my pleasure. He stared at me as he took off his leather cut. His shirt came off next, my eyes climbing up and down the beautiful muscles that made up his body.

  Then Layne pulled at his belt buckle. His lip was curled up in a snarl as he took his jeans off. All there was for my eyes to view was a cut piece of wild biker perfection. His chest muscles connected to his stomach muscles. His stomach muscles ran down to flat skin right to the root of his cock. His legs were thick and powerful, legs that had been pumping at me just a minute ago.

  “I’m not done yet,” he said and slapped both hands to my bare ass.

  The smack sound rang out across the bedroom, followed by my yell.

  He flipped me over and grabbed my knees, opening my legs. His hands ran up my sticky inner thighs, his thumbs stopping a millimeter from my pussy. Dropping to his knees, Layne came forward with his mouth again, tasting me. He engulfed my sweet center, suckling so hard against tender skin that I crunched forward, screamed, grabbed for his hair. I pulled at him, my body instinctively wanting more. I rocked my hips as hard as I could, grinding my clit against his flickering tongue. His hands slid around to my ass and lifted me up, devouring me even more.

  My body started to feel weak. My grip on his hair lessened and finally my fingers fell to his shoulder and rested there. My other hand held at the sheets but with no strength. I rested my head back on the bed, shut my eyes, and lost myself in. The wet sound of Layne’s tongue pleasuring me, sucking at me. The warm pulses raced throughout my entire body. My legs jumped, flexed, but I had nothing. He had taken everything from me.

  One of his hands moved up and spread across my belly. I put my hand to his and gave a weak squeeze. Layne then turned his hand and interlocked his fingers to mine.

  I quivered with a desire to be needed, wanted, to have Layne in a way that went beyond the bed and the back of his motorcycle.

  I opened my eyes and looked down. Layne’s eyes locked with mine and he took his mouth from me. He kissed up over my smooth body, his eyes never leaving mine. Inch by inch, he moved slow, calculated, my heart racing, my body aching for more of him. At my breasts, he kissed, once, gentle, enough to make me shiver so my nipples were painfully hard.

  Layne knew how to fuck. Fuck my body. Fuck my mind. Fuck everything.

  His lips finally met mine. Our tongues touched and a familiar sweet taste flooded my mouth. That’s when he thrust at me with his cock, entering me again.

  The first couple pumps were slow and deep. Then he put fists to the bed, pushed up, and picked up right where he left off when he was behind me. Fucking me harder, faster, me bouncing on the bed in a endless state of orgasmic ecstasy.

  “Ah, fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned. “My balls can’t hold back anymore.”

  “Don’t,” I said. I put my hands to his back and looked at him. “Fill me, Layne. Right now. Fucking fill me.”

  “Done,” Layne said.

  13.

  (Shelby)

  I still couldn’t breathe the right way.

  Layne paced at the edge of the bed, wearing jeans that were unbuttoned and nothing else. His hands were balled up into fists, like
boulders ready to fly. I was under a blanket, naked, my thighs still trembling, my pussy aching. Part of me wanted more, part of me needed a break for like a week.

  “Your father is tied into this deep,” he said. “That fuck.”

  “Hey,” I said. “Maybe something happened. Maybe it has to do with my mother.”

  Layne froze and looked at me. “You need to let that go. Okay? Focus on what’s right here and what we know.”

  I hated when Layne talked like that. It made me feel like he knew something I didn’t.

  I sat up in bed a little. “Why don’t you want me to find my mother?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Every time I talk about it. You get upset. You get angry.”

  Layne turned and faced the end of the bed. He was built like a tank. He could take a punch, a bullet, everything, and still stand.

  His lip started to curl. “You fucking took off when I told you not to. I fucking told you to stay right here. You left. You fucking left.”

  I felt cold inside. I lowered my head. “I’m sorry.”

  “You left because you wanted to talk to your father. To pressure him.”

  “For the club,” I whispered.

  “That’s not your fucking job, sweetheart. Club business is my business. Not yours.”

  “It is if I’m in danger,” I said.

  I looked at Layne. He was enraged.

  “No it’s not. That’s why you were in that goddamn room. The clubhouse is fucking protected. You stay here. You let me do my fucking job. Instead of doing my job, I had to chase you around.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.”

  “He said he knew me, Layne. That we played together when we were younger. What if… what if my father is in the mafia?”

  “He’s not,” Layne said. “He’s in their pocket. He tried running with the MC and got his cut taken away. You know that. He switched to other side with his badge and uniform. The mafia saw him as a weak target so they went after him.”

  “What if he didn’t stay with the MC because of me? This is all…”