Wrecked by the Bad Boy: The Sick MC

by Olivia Stephens

  I shouldn't have been. I should have objected to being hauled around like a doll, pulled this way and that, and ignored when I spoke. But I got the strangest feeling about Zane as we walked through the hall. He wasn’t trying to shut me up. I was going somewhere where I would get answers, though I had a suspicion that something else would come first. There were waves of frustration and lust rolling off of him, buffeting me as I trailed in his wake. He was pissed about that girl and he wanted me. Two things that I could reciprocate.

  The same back hallway that led to the restrooms had another door off it, one marked “PRIVATE.” Zane produced a key from a collection in his pocket and unlocked the door, guiding me inside once he had it open.

  It looked like a private lounge. Zane flicked on the lights, but even that did little to light up the gloom. I wondered about when it was last used. There was a tiny bar in the corner, and a little stage off to one side. A few tables and couches dotted the room in no discernable pattern, and everything was in shades of royal purple and gold. It was the tackiest place I’d ever seen in my life.

  I turned to ask Zane what we were doing there just in time to see him close and lock the door behind him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Zane

  I was predictable. I’d always been predictable, as long as you knew where to look. Sasha said she had a hard time figuring me out, but I was probably the easiest of people to figure out. That didn’t mean anyone had yet, to my knowledge, but they were looking in all the wrong places. It wasn’t my expressions, my tone, or my body language that betrayed me—it was my actions.

  If I wanted to be alone, I got on my bike and drove. I would keep driving until I ran out of gas or until I’d had enough time to think about what was on my mind—whichever came first. If I ran out of gas, I’d get some more and keep on driving. Rinse and repeat.

  If I were being pressed with questions that I didn’t want to answer, or didn’t yet have the answers to, I would distract myself in the swirling pit of lust that seemed to occupy my gut every goddamn hour of the day. That went double if the person who was asking the questions was a hot piece of ass like Sasha.

  This method hadn’t failed me yet.

  I closed the door and locked it, not even waiting for her to speak before I crossed the distance between us and slammed my mouth against hers. She was so soft and supple that I nearly lost my fucking mind. I had expected that she might try to get her answers still, maybe even reject me. I was prepared for either. But she didn’t. She melted into my arms and let me ravage her mouth, darting my tongue between her teeth to pull forth a hungry groan from her.

  God did she sound good. Her hair was silky, and I ran one of my hands through it, the other going down to cup her ass. Her jeans were tight against her skin, each of her curves fitting perfectly into my hand.

  I backed her against the table and pushed my chest flat against hers, pulling her as tightly to me as I could without breaking her. She whimpered, but it wasn’t from pain. I suspected nobody had ever kissed her like this before.

  She was a good girl, and she had expected to be kissed like all the good boys had kissed her, with their sweaty palms and hesitant brushes of tongue and teeth. But I wasn’t a good boy, and I knew how to take what I wanted from a woman and give it back tenfold. A million visions passed through my head as my lips bruised hers, all the different ways I could fuck her in this tiny little room.

  But my cock strained in my jeans, hard and heavy. Seeing her bent over the pool table had been enough to keep it half hard the entire time we played. And I wanted her just like that. God, she was so hot, her hands slipping over the skin of my back underneath my t-shirt, so gentle and innocent. But her mouth...hmm, it wasn’t innocent at all. She kissed with a passion that shocked me. The swirling of her tongue, the nip of her teeth on my lower lip, and the way she sucked on my tongue made me nearly go crazy. I wanted her right then. I needed her.

  With a hand on the back of her neck, I pulled her away and roughly turned her over, leaning against her and grinding my dick against the curve of her ass as I bit the exposed flesh of her neck. She arched back into me, causing me to moan with delight. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she knew exactly how it would affect me. I didn’t know how I’d ever sensed innocence in this girl.

  One hand still pressing her to the table, I used the other to pull down her jeans. It was difficult; they were tight and molded perfectly to her ass. I should have undone them first, but I sure as hell didn’t have time for that. I needed her, and I needed her now. And based on the sounds she was making, she needed me now too.

  “Is this how all your dates end?” she asked breathlessly. I didn’t miss the hint of delight in her tone, but I also didn’t miss the even fainter ghost of insecurity. She wanted to feel like she was special. She wanted me to tell her she was.

  I wasn’t a liar. If any other woman had made such a subtle overture, I would’ve just ignored it and gone one with my day. Women expected men to not understand subtle nuances. As offensive as that was at times, I certainly wouldn’t hesitate to use it in my favor. But in her case? Fuck, she was special as all hell. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t know what I was going to do about it, but if she wanted me to tell her that she was a star in the fucking sky, I’d tell her she was the only one.

  “Only the ones when I’ve been teased the whole night by an ass like yours,” I hissed into her ear, biting the lobe for good measure.

  She rocked back, and I groaned as her ass ground into my hard bulge before I continued.

  “Do you know how much I want you? How much I’ve wanted you since that first goddamn time I walked into your flower shop?” I reached down with the hand that had managed to pull her jeans halfway down her thighs and rubbed the front of her panties. “You’re so goddamn hot.”

  She mewled and rested her forehead on the cool table, clearly overcome with sensation. Good. I liked her like that. I liked the sight of her completely prone with pleasure and moaning beneath me. I was going to have to find a way to get more of that. Much more.

  I kissed her neck more gently as I tore down my zipper and released my cock. It was thudding with each of my heart’s beats. Man, I had never wanted someone so much.

  At the feeling of my cock’s head sliding across her ass, Sasha gasped. It was ragged and animal—a sound that she hadn’t intended to make. It was music to my goddamn ears. Her skin was soft as I rubbed all over it, barely holding back from slamming into her right then. She was wet enough; I knew that from my exploration with my other hand. But I wanted to make this memorable, and just a second or two of suspense would accomplish that task quite neatly.

  I pulled down her sopping pants until they hung just over her jeans, then began to probe between her folds with my meat. She gasped again and then made that delicious mewling sound. There it was—that false innocence. It had never been innocence at all. It was just how she did business. And hell if I would turn down what she was selling.

  I slammed in without another thought, unable to resist the call of her body any longer. She cried out, a rasping moan that would have driven me mad with lust if I wasn’t already in her. As it was, my whole body was reacting, driving forward and pushing her further into the table. I needed her like I needed oxygen, and she pushed back like she’d die without me too.

  Each slick thrust made my hair stand on end and drove me into a state of pure bliss. Her body was a temple, and I was worshipping it in the best way I knew how. I could worship it for hours. I hadn’t even pumped in more than a few times before she came, which I think surprised both of us. Feeling her pulse around me just made me drive deeper, even though she’d stopped moving her body as the tension of her orgasm stilled her and caused her to slump over the table.

  By the time she began moving again, clearly in pursuit of her next high, I was getting ready to release my own. It was a miracle I’d held off even that long, with her moaning at me like she was milking me for everything I had. My hands were probably bruis
ing her hips with my unrelenting pace, but neither of us cared. I would have dug my fingers into her harder if I thought it would do any good, but I already had her firmly grasped in my hands and going nowhere.

  I groaned, and she moaned louder, a symphony of pleasure in the small space. The air was hot, and my body was slick with sweat under my clothes. I pushed up her shirt as if to give her some relief from the heat, but really I just wanted to lick along her spine and taste her before I came.

  Sasha moaned again, and I knew that my luck had thrown her back over the edge of the abyss. She clenched down on me again, and I drove in hard two more times, anchoring my shaft in her body as my orgasm finally ripped me apart at the seams. There was a loud roar that I didn’t realize until afterward came from me.

  As I panted and cooled down, slowly releasing my iron grip on Sasha’s hips, I became aware that I’d probably just had the best fuck I’d ever had in all my twenty-eight years. And it was the simplest too. Maybe that was why. We had momentarily regressed into the primal functions of man and woman, copulating wildly with no thoughts of civilization or civility. Down in the dark recesses of our minds, Sasha and I had found something fierce and unbinding.

  And holy fuck had it been good.

  I gave her ass a light smack and walked back toward the wall, leaning against it as I did up my fly and pulled my smokes from my pocket. I watched her with interest as she pulled up the layers of clothing that I’d ripped off and nearly torn. I wasn’t really supposed to smoke inside here, but fuck if I was going to sit here and not drag the fumes into my lungs after a session like that.

  “Wow,” she finally said, turning around and adjusting her hair as she looked at me. She shook her head, a bemused grin lighting up her face. “I’ve never...I don’t…”

  I laughed, lighting the stick between my lips and taking a long drag. “Yeah.”

  No more needed to be said than that. As casually as if she hadn’t just been shown the time of her life on it, Sasha casually leaped up onto the table and dangled her feet over the side, looking at me as if trying to read my expression again. I gave her a short smile and took another puff.

  Well, she wanted answers. And I was ready to give them.

  “Asa and I dated a few years ago, probably for no more than six months or something.” It depended on whether you counted the few months after we broke up that I kept fucking her whenever the time seemed right.

  “I got that much,” Sasha said, chuckling darkly. “Seems like she’s still pretty hung up on you, though, even after all this time.”

  I blew out a thick cloud of smoke and shrugged my shoulders. “She was dating the guy who got killed. Graham, his name was. He was one of the members of my club, but not any of the ones involved in business, so I rarely saw him.” Another inhale, the smoke bitter on my tongue as I thought about Asa and Graham together. I hadn’t known him well, but I didn’t have to know him well to know that he was too good for her. “They got together sometime after her and I broke up, and were together until he died a few days ago.”

  Sasha sucked a breath in through her teeth. “And Asa’s already all over you like that?” She shook her head, clearly irritated. “Poor guy. He’s not dead a week and his girl’s already forgotten about him.”

  I took another breath and pondered. Had she really? “I don’t think she has,” I said, both to myself and to Sasha. “I think she’s sick with grief, truthfully. But Asa never got over me, and she never figured out how to deal with her emotions.” I shrugged again, exhaling the remainder of the smoke. “It’s a deadly combination when you think about it.”

  Sasha smiled to herself. “I guess I didn’t think of it that way. Now that I think about it, she did seem very sad.”

  It was some comfort to know that Asa felt something.

  “What an odd character,” Sasha mused. I wasn’t sure whether she meant it more toward herself or me. Either way, it was the truth.

  “You could write a book on her,” I said with a chuckle. “That’s for sure.”

  The ashen end of my cigarette curved perilously toward the ground. I needed to ash but realized that the carpet beneath me was a bad spot for it. Damnit. Should’ve thought of that. No wonder I never smoked in here. I stuck my leg out and tapped the ash onto my jeans, brushing it out and away into the air.

  When I looked back over as Sasha, she was smirking at me.

  “What?” I said with a crooked grin. “No ashtray.”

  “Generally no ash tray means no smoking,” she threw back, cocking one of her eyebrows.

  I chuckled and took another drag in a contrary manner that my mother would have smacked me for when she was alive.

  There was something different about Sasha; that wasn’t news to me. I’d suspected as much since I walked into her store and saw her bent low over a bouquet of flowers, arranging them into some sort of visual spectacle. Having sex with her had only cemented this belief for me. She was strong and independent, yet flexible and submissive in bed in a way that called to me like a goddamn siren song. I could already feel my cock twitching at the thought of it. Again? So soon? She must’ve been some sort of special with a cherry on top. Typically I needed at least a few minutes. But with her? I had a feeling I could fuck all night if I wanted to.

  And I wanted to. But now wasn’t the place. Or the time. We’d only just met. I wanted to get to know her mind as much as I wanted to get to know her body. Maybe more. She was interesting, bright, and a challenge to me.

  Asa had been a challenge to me too, but in a different way. She was forthright and quick to anger, constantly throwing down the gauntlet at me for every imagined transgression I made. She didn’t care so much about me as she did about the idea of everything I represented. She was a woman who hungered for power and to be placed at the top of life’s pecking order. She wasn’t interested in the emotional and intellectual side of our relationship, not that there had been one. She only wanted to be seen as the club leader’s son’s old lady. Or rather, now, the club leader’s old lady. It was surprising that she hadn’t tried to seduce my dad; she probably would have had better luck.

  Her little show tonight had been pure jealousy and power play. She hated the idea of me being with anyone else. I was meant to be hers; she believed she owned me. But nobody owned me.

  And then there was Sasha. Submissive and challenging in a way that Asa had never been, or could be. Sasha was smart, funny, and gave me exactly what I wanted – no, what I needed - in bed. But maybe it was a bit too soon to call that one, seeing as we’d only had sex once, but hell I was willing to put in the time and do the research.

  “What are you thinking about?” Sasha asked, eyeing my now finished cigarette and far off expression.

  I hadn’t realized I’d gone off on a mental tangent. I did that sometimes. I tried not to, but it was one of the aspects of my personality that seemed hard to avoid.

  “Just tonight,” I said, giving her a noncommittal shrug as I put out the butt of the cigarette on my saliva wettened thumb. She visibly winced, but I only chuckled. My hands had more calluses than lines. I doubted there was much I could still feel.

  But I’d felt the softness of her thighs as I’d parted them, and the—fuck, there I went again. I reeled myself back in and anchored my eyes on hers.

  “I should take you home,” I said.

  She blinked, her expression unchanging. The only way I could sense her disappointment was through her tone. “Yeah. I guess it’s getting late.”

  I crossed the floor again and caged her in, with my arms on either side of the table she sat on. She was still smaller than me, but we were marginally closer in height when she was up there. I leaned in and pressed a sweet, gentle kiss on her lips.

  She made a noise of appreciation and leaned in, hands gently clutching the fabric of my shirt to pull me a little closer. I let her take the lead in it, interested to see what her style was like without the overbearing influence of mine. She was all sunshine and roses, kissing me like a prin
cess might kiss the prince who’d just saved her from the dragon. But then her hand slipped to the top of my jeans, and one finger slicing up the front of my zipper was enough to put filthy, dirty images in my head.

  I pulled back, evaluating her with a smirk. “You’re a bad girl who kisses like a good girl.”

  She bit her lip coyly, not responding. I groaned and pulled her off the table, thrusting her in front of me toward the door.

  “If we don’t leave now, I won’t let you leave,” I said, guiding her with my hand on her waist. “And I don’t think the waitresses here would appreciate the kind of mess we’d make.”

  Sasha laughed and shuffled her feet toward the door, turning just before opening it to press her lips against mine again.

  It took everything in me to get her back into the billiards hall before it closed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sasha

  My second time on the bike was much less terrifying. It was exhilarating, really, and I loved every second of it. Zane’s solid back against my chest, my thighs hugging his, the vibration of the seat as we carved our own path through the night—it all came together in a perfect combination of sensations. It was almost unlike anything I’d ever felt, except I’d already had that experience this evening as Zane nailed me in the billiards hall back room.