by Nicole Snow
“If you're staying here, then I'm pulling a couple prospects away from the clubhouse. They'll stand outside your gate like this is Buckingham fuckin' Palace.”
“Dust...” I reached out, gently laying a hand on his stiff, angry shoulder. “I'll rent a bodyguard if it'll make you feel better. There are enough mercenaries around these parts to go around with all the bad juju that's been happening lately.”
That was an understatement. I heard rumors about the assassins and creeps the Torches sent here over Cora, not to mention the dirty pimp and Deadhands bikers who'd nearly kept Skin from Meg.
“Fine. You've got one chance to get your fuckin' bodyguard, and text me exactly who he is by noon so I can do a background check. If he ain't clean or I find out you dropped the ball, I'm coming back here, darlin'. I won't be happy. Sure as I'm standing here, I'll drag your sweet ass back to my clubhouse naked, if that's what it takes to keep you safe.”
He talked like he owned me, his to do as he pleased. Infuriating.
Or, at least, it should've been, being treated like his property, but a bizarre tingle ran through my blood. Possessive meant he cared in this twisted, gruff biker context, and I appreciated it.
“Dusty, I'm not your old lady. I know a thing or two about how to save myself. I'll be fine on my own. I've dealt with plenty of hired guns between Huck and Sterner Corp security.”
“You know where I'm coming from, darlin', and you'll listen just this once. I get boundaries, but they're not worth a damn when your life's on the line. Don't make me shove a ring on your finger, stamp my name in your skin, and start calling you mine. Because believe me, Hannah, if that's what it takes to make you listen, I will fuckin' do it.”
He'd never looked at me quite like this. Sure, I recognized the fearsome MC Prez barking orders, but it was more, too. I saw a man laying his claim. It shocked me so hard I had to put my hand against the wall for support.
“You'll hear from me by noon,” I promised, slowly walking up to him. “Give them hell, Dusty. Whoever they are. Bring Joker's little boy home.”
“I will, Hannah,” he growled, grabbing me by the neck and pulling me to his lips for a rough, uneven kiss. “Then I'm coming back so we can finish everything we started here last night.”
I stood in the doorframe with my heart in my throat, watching him climb on his bike, and roar out into the night. The stakes just got higher in the dangerous game I'd been playing – if Dom and his assholes found out I'd hired a bodyguard, they'd bring so much hell even the Pistols might not be able to handle it.
I had to take the chance. Lifting my fingers to my lips, I touched the numb, hot impression he'd left with his mouth, his teeth, his stubble.
His kiss promised he was worth the risk, and hinted at so much more. Whatever else I had to deal with before I could live something resembling a normal life, it took a backseat to finding out what else he'd promised.
8
Thanks for Nothing (Dust)
The worst week of my life in twenty years started the second I peeled away from Hannah's mansion.
Joker spilled the beans by the damned truckload. He told the brothers about Piece, the dirty, murderous secret we'd kept from everyone, and said point blank he wasn't waiting for revenge. He was gonna go and take it.
Then he took off alone. I got my dick nailed to the wall by my boys, who held off on a vote for my gavel 'til we settled with the Deads.
When we finally caught up to the Veep and came crashing into their lair, with a little help from our friends in the Grizzlies MC, we found a shit show.
They'd beat the shit outta Joker. Laid him up for weeks.
We killed every last miserable bastard wearing their patch over it, including their sick fuck leader, Hatch. It was a pleasure to carve the blood stained patches off his cut and bring 'em home for Joker and his grandpa to savor. Old man Taylor had been waiting a long time in that fuckin' nursing home to see his grandson avenged, and see the other one whole. He could finally die in peace, whenever the time came.
The club had new business, now that the Deads were in disarray and we had a route from sea to shining sea wide open for the gun trade. Blackjack and Throttle promised plenty of trade flowing down from their MCs. All three of our clubs had a beautiful corridor stretching across the country.
As for me fuckin' everybody over by holding onto secrets for too long, well, we settled that, too.
I sat through the entire agonizing vote for my gavel. Half the boys voted against me, hoping for a new Prez, and I didn't blame 'em one bit.
When it came down to that single swing vote, I thought I'd be fucked, considering it was in Firefly's hands. But the big, beautiful sonofabitch looked me coldly in the eyes, voting to keep me in charge.
Never expected that. Never thought he'd put the club's own good over the personal shit stirring him up with me and Hannah, but he did.
The man who had more reason than most to be caving my skull in gave me a second chance to lead, and I'd never forget it.
If shit seemed to be whirling by in a blur before, then it went twice as fast after all the deadly drama ended.
Everything changed. Before I knew it, we had two weddings on our hands. Meg and Skin were due to be hitched at the same time as Joker and Summer, making their love official once and for all.
I barely had a second to slip away to see Hannah with the whole damned world going to shit. But I managed, climbing over her gate before she opened it half the time, taking what was mine again and again like a maniac after another hit of the finest pussy on the face of the Earth.
One cool fall evening, several days before the double wedding, I walked into her palace and came face-to-face with a sight that almost pulled my dick straight through my pants.
Hannah waiting for me next to her fireplace, a bottle of wine on the mantle, and a roaring red glow crackling behind her. She wore her purple robe, pulled up too high for her own good, just enough to let me see the heels and stockings peaking out.
“Fuckin' hell, darlin'. Is that how you're gonna dress all winter? Because if that's the way it goes, bring on Jack Frost.”
She laughed, reaching behind her for the bottle. The cork was already loose, and she pulled it out with her teeth, holding it in her mouth like some little creature tempting me to ravage her.
“No games. I need those lips now.” I stepped up to her and plucked the cork from her teeth when I was close enough.
Our lips collided, fiery and restless. They always were when we got together, but lately it was only about once a week. Our bodies needed more than that – a whole lot more.
My hands wound their way into her robe, feeling that bare, hot skin I'd soon have under me. I was about to shred the velvety belt holding it shut when she batted at my wrist with both hands, giving me a push with all her strength.
“Not so fast. Are you spending the night? After last time, I'm putting my foot down and telling you, I ain't a wham-bam girl no matter how sexy and strong you look, Dusty.” She narrowed her eyes.
Fuck. I thought back to last week, when I slipped out before dawn, pulled into a late night call with Blackjack. I knew I'd fucked up as soon as I left, putting business over her, especially when the crazy old bastard out west asked me why the fuck I was free at four in the morning, without a wife and kid to keep me busy.
“Darlin', I screwed up,” I said. Never an easy thing for me to say. “I walked when I shouldn't have, when there wasn't any danger. I've learned my lesson. My ass belongs in your bed all night, unless there's life and death involved. Money can wait. We've both got ourselves plenty of coin. More will always be there tomorrow, but I can't say the same about another chance to get up inside you.”
I slid my hands up her thighs, feeling those stockings, letting their sleek texture drive my dick mad. Hannah closed her eyes and purred, a soft smile on her lips, seemingly satisfied with the falling on my sword I'd done.
Right now, I would've told her she was the queen of damned England if it got h
er legs open. I wasn't just feeding her lies, though.
Meant every word I said. Every insane, unbelievable, alien word I thought I'd never say to any woman. She'd split me open, causing sheer madness to pour out my lips.
“I don't know,” she said softly, grabbing my wrist with one little hand. “Part of me wants to give you a second chance. The other part thinks you're just telling me everything I want to hear. You'll hop on your bike and ride off into the sunset like any other player wearing that patch after you've had your fill.”
“You're calling me a liar?” I growled, running my hands over her more forcefully, winding them to her ass. I cupped her cheek, gave it a hard squeeze. “I think I oughta find out what part of you believes I'm telling the truth. I'll fuck that part with my tongue half the night.”
I move my fingers underneath her ass, gliding over her panties. She gasped, arching into the wall, and I suppressed another growl, sensing the wet spot swelling between her legs.
“And the rest of me?” she whimpered, trying to keep her eyes open, pretend she had the upper hand.
“The part that's calling me on bullshit, or thinks it is?” I took my fingers away from her pussy, bringing them back to her ass, but this time I lifted her robe, holding my palm over that sweetness, begging to be spanked. “I'll have to smack sense into that part, darlin'. No man, woman, or animal calls Daniel Grayson a liar.”
My palm came down swiftly on her ass. Her eyes snapped open and she let out a little yelp, exactly like the kind she made most nights before I sent her into ecstasy.
“Oh! I was wondering when I'd hear your real name. Not that Dusty doesn't have a nice ring to it.” She smiled sweetly, walking fully into my embrace, wine bottle gripped in her hand.
She brought it to her lips and took a big, teasing swig that could've put a sailor to shame. Seeing it glide down her throat didn't do anything to suppress the hard-on raging in my jeans.
“Consider yourself something real special, darlin'. Hearing my name at all means you can forget about ever thinking I'd lie to you,” I said, taking the wine from her hand, and bringing it to my lips.
Normally, I preferred whiskey or beer, but this shit would do the job tonight. It went down smooth, landed in my stomach, and exploded in a fireball, adding its heat to everything lust kept fanning in my system.
“That's too bad,” she said, licking her lips. “I was really looking forward to more spanking.”
My eyes locked on her baby blues. Fuck, I wanted to make them roll. Wanted to destroy her tonight, and watch those eyes lose their shine to pure pleasure.
“Not half as much as I've been looking forward to what we're planning tonight, darlin'. Ain't nothing in this world like skin-on-skin. We're gonna fuck so much tonight, you'll be leaking me for days.”
My words turned her cheeks rosy red, just how I liked them. I meant every single one, too, knowing this was the first night I'd be taking her sweet cunt with nothing in the way.
“Upstairs?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Later. Why should we rush off to bed when we've got a perfectly good fire going here, plus a bottle of wine to suck down in between the next round of fireworks?”
I didn't give her any time to think about it. One arm locked around her, and my other hand tore at her robe, dropping that soft, purple cover straight to the floor.
Underneath it, she had her dark black stockings, her panties, and nothing else. Just the way I liked it.
She squealed and laughed when I grabbed her, pulled her down to the floor with me, and laid her out on the cool rug underneath us.
I laid into her lips like I hadn't had any for weeks.
How this woman managed to make me feel like I was getting my dick wet for the first time, every time, I still hadn't figured out. The woman was either magic, or something beautiful that went beyond tits and ass.
Something I thought I'd never have, much less crave the more I had it.
Every spare minute I wasn't dealing with the club's shit, I wanted Hannah Davis.
Her, not just her pussy.
Obviously, I wanted to be all up inside that, practically twenty-four seven, but we were going deeper than sex. I craved her in ways that weren't just about getting my dick soaked anymore.
We'd grown closer every kiss. Tangled ourselves up in each other a little more every time our lips connected and our bodies swapped sweat. Closer every time she laughed at my crap, and I buried her sass in another smoldering touch causing her to moan.
Hannah touched the man behind Dust. She lured Daniel to the surface, caused him to push her down into her pretty gardens out back, and left him craving more, even after he'd brought her upstairs.
She blue balled me, straight to my messed up soul. Left my head spinning a little more, and my heart more bitter, every wicked moment I had to walk away and go about my business, the other world that wasn't Hannah's lips, her laugh, her bed.
Deep down, I knew a man only came out of this freaky ass spell one of two ways: he came out whole, hitched, and seeing his woman every day of his life, or he went completely fuckin' loco.
I kissed her again, stroking my tongue on hers, tasting the sweetness I wanted to be mine, mine, and only mine.
Mine today, tomorrow, and next year.
She moaned into my mouth, slurring my name underneath her wine flavored flesh, turning my dick to granite.
Dusty. I couldn't get enough of that, hearing her recite my name with a passion and a hunger I'd never cared about on any woman's lips before.
A lot of assholes out there laugh about chemistry, insta-love, that caveman urge to claim a mate and keep fuckin' claiming her every time he gets his dick inside his girl. I used to be one of those assholes, thinking it'd never happen to me.
Technically, it hadn't happened yet.
Wasn't like I'd put my brand on her, or started calling her my old lady. But all that weighed on my brain heavier every day, creating a prickly fog I knew wouldn't lift 'til we had it all. I jerked off a little harder when I couldn't be with her, thinking about the day we'd be sharing a bed permanently, and I'd never have to waste a hard cock in my hands ever again.
My teeth grazed her throat. Hannah squirmed under me, tangling her legs around mine, begging me to bring it home.
Fortunately and unfortunately for her, it wasn't time for that yet.
I had standards. Didn't sink my dick in 'til I'd soaked her pussy good and hard. My tongue needed her taste, every sugary molecule of sweat sizzling on her flesh. I licked my way down good and slow, stopping to take each of her nipples between my teeth, pulling rough and lashing them with my tongue.
She practically came just from that. So sweet, so pure, so damned responsive to everything I did to her.
My cock jerked for the hundredth time in my jeans, leaking pre-come everywhere. Every voice inside me howled to rip her panties off and beast fuck her, but I told myself the same thing I told her body.
Not yet.
Not fuckin' yet.
She ain't coming on every inch 'til she's had my tongue, my fingers, and I've sucked her cream to my heart's content. If a day goes by when she forgets who makes that little nub between her legs burn, then I haven't done my damned job.
I wouldn't forget what she needed tonight. Wouldn't miss it for anything.
“Move with me, darlin,” I said, grabbing her ass and lifting her high.
We rolled, repositioned, and soon her ass was in my face. My fingers dipped below the waistband hugging her hips. They came down in one quick jerk, so fast it caused her to whimper.
I left her panties around her knees while I grabbed her hips, shoved them against my face, and slipped my tongue into her.
“Oh...fuck!” she cried out, digging her nails into my leg for support. “Yeah, Dusty. Yeah!”
Hot blood frolicked in my veins, urging me on. I licked her high and low, shallow and deep, faster and faster, then so motherfuckin' fast she pinched her eyes shut, bucked her hips into my face, and tensed.<
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Too much pleasure, too soon. She tried to pull away, and I wasn't having it. I growled against her pussy, hugging her ass to me, pinning her where she belonged while my mouth owned everything.
Didn't take her long to find the rhythm. Each time my tongue plunged deep, she rubbed her pussy a little harder into my face, begging me to bring her off.
This was her lucky day because I was hellbent on doing it. My licks moved up, focusing on her clit. Took that little bead in my mouth and sucked it hard, dashing mad circles, reaching between her legs with two stiff fingers to fuck her while she took my tongue.
Make me hear my fuckin' name, I thought, whirling licks around her tender flesh 'til I was at my limit. Say it, beautiful. Say it, scream it, give it the fuck up.
We connected on a crazy, primal level I couldn't even fathom. Ten more seconds in, she seized up, her hips bending in to brace for the lightning ripping through them.
“Dusty...Dusty...Dusty!” Pure staccato pleasure erupted from her lips.
Her pussy convulsed on my face. I held her down, pulling her into me to keep on stroking her the whole way through her orgasm.
I brought her off hard. Licked up every sweet splash of cream gushing near my mouth, her pussy melting for me, coming completely undone.
No, fuck, just coming. And I'd make it happen about a dozen more times tonight before we were through.
I needed this woman. Needed to fuck her, own her, and pump my seed deep. Needed to mark her with my teeth, my come, my ink.
Just when she started coming down from it, her clit still humming against my tongue, I slapped her ass hard. She came a little more, a spankaholic if I ever saw one.
It was a miracle my dick hadn't torn through my jeans yet. But it came damned close when I felt her tense up, listened to how fuckin' much she enjoyed my hand impacting her sweet skin.
Lucky for both of us, she had plenty of sass to go around. I'd be bending her over my knee good and proper one of these days, and see how red I'd paint her ass before she came.
