Wrecked by the Bad Boy: The Sick MC

by Olivia Stephens

  A pair of arms slid around his torso and under his kutte. His heart stuttered and his breath caught in his throat as Miranda pressed the side of her head to his chest. She listened to his pounding heart. The rhythm soothed and comforted her. Warmth sifted into her body and, she realized, she didn't want to be anywhere else. Even after his revelations, he was still Tyler. His heart was generally in the right place, even if he utilized questionable methods. It was that allure – good intentions that he did everything to fulfill - that always caught her, even all those years ago. She squeezed him, able to see that forlorn expression on his face, even now.

  He struggled to find the words resonating in his surprised thoughts. “What are you doing?”

  She took a moment to reply. What was she doing? This man had dragged her into a life-threatening situation. How could she even stomach touching him? Miranda realized her dissent took the voice of her family and she could see them, scowling down at her for her ill-thought actions. There were only two options in this situation: help him and risk death or find sanctuary in a foreign country. She didn't need to choose right away, though. Did she? “I have a few hours to make a decision, right?” Miranda queried, tilting her head back. She licked her lips, her gaze locked to his face. “This might actually be our last meeting.”

  Tyler fell silent. She had a point. The only reason to stay in Legacy would be to help him. Pete's lackeys established Miranda's connection to him - and verified it tenfold. If she left tomorrow for foreign soil, she had nothing to worry about. There were still hours left before morning roused the town from their beds.

  A lot could happen in that time frame.

  She shoved him back onto the bed. Excitement licked up his body as his back impacted against the squeaky mattress. Miranda climbed atop him, a slight smile coiling along her lips. She didn't make it far up his body. Her fingers tugged on the fastenings of his jeans, coaxing his quickly hardening cock from the depths of his pants.

  Tyler watched her hungrily as her lips hovered over his penis. Those moist, pink lips. He bit his bottom lip in silent anticipation.

  She watched his reactions, a thrill rising through her thoughts. She had complete and utter control over this situation, unlike what happened earlier. Warmth tugged at her thoughts. He was putty in her hands and she knew just where to stroke to make him melt further. Yet, somehow, Tyler always managed to surprise her in the most delightful ways.

  When his fingers twitched and he looked about ready to shove her face down, Miranda obliged his naughty desire. Her lips lowered to his twitching member. She gave the head of his cock a gentle kiss, eliciting a moan from him. Flickering out, her tongue tasted the hot flesh. Groaning, his hips thrust upward while he leered at her with his dark, lusty gaze. Miranda's lips twisted into a grin.

  She slowly inched farther and farther to the base of his cock. Halfway down, heat and pressure pounded against Tyler's balls. Watching her was like watching a goddess. He screwed his eyes shut, focused on the pleasure. If he viewed the show any longer, he'd burst way too soon. The moist heat of her mouth clouded his thoughts, fogging everything in his synapses with hormones and desire. He could barely restrain the urge to grab her head and fuck her mouth. His hips jerked involuntarily at the very thought.

  Nails slid down up, under his shirt. Tyler gasped, his face heating as Miranda's nails dug across his sides. Her lips twitched and he knew – just knew – she could feel delight throb through his cock. Her nails arched over his abdomen, teasing his torso. Cracking his eyes open, he was graced with the sight of her with her back arched, her ass up, her mouth sucking down his whole cock, and her eyes on him like burning emeralds. The fire in his loins flared. His breathing hitched. Pleasure bit into him as Miranda's nails dug a little deeper.

  Her warmth ascended up his cock, her tongue writhing along the under side of his shaft. Miranda's hands drifted southward, over his stomach and down to his groin. He shivered as her nails raked along the tender flesh of his inner thigh. Tyler's thoughts turned into a puddle of heat as she gently palmed his balls. They tightened and his cock twitched, pressure building against his lower stomach.

  Desire snapped against her thoughts. She couldn't wait any longer. Her damp pussy pulsed under the layers of her clothes. She hungered for his girth stretching her, his heat filling her. He tensed and whined as her lips pulled from his cock. His complaints were cut short as he felt her maneuvering over him.

  Miranda's breasts pressed against his chest as she rolled her hips. The fabric of her soft yoga pants teased his cock. Tyler's fingers slid to her hips, wiggling beneath the fabric to grip her hips. He pressed her down, faintly wishing he could cut a hole into the damn pants. He wanted her heat, her wetness, her throbbing pussy milking at his cock.

  She swept down, catching his lips against her smile. As they deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of each other, Tyler took his chance. He yanked the pants down and his palms skirted over Miranda's round ass. She moaned into the kiss, her heart pounding with excitement through her chest. She wiggled, pushing the pants farther and farther down. Finally, she kicked the article of clothing off, leaving only her panties as a barrier.

  Through the wet fabric, her swollen pussy taunted his bare cock. Tyler's fingers twitched against her hips. His thoughts bubbled with desire and frustration and need. His dick bounced, the head of his member catching the side of the panties.

  “Nuh-uh, naughty boy.” Miranda chuckled against his mouth, breaking the kiss as she rolled her hips. The movement shook his cock free of the prize it so desired. Tyler grunted, breathlessly, and his head fell back against the pillow. Atop him, while teasingly gyrating her hips against him, Miranda tore off her shirt and the sports bra she wore beneath. Her breasts bounced free, rosy nipples hard and standing at attention.

  Tyler's mouth watered as Miranda leaned down. Her breasts swung forward and, darting up, Tyler caught one of her tits with his mouth. His hand went to the other tit, squeezing and groping the flesh. She moaned as his tongue laved over her nipple. A squeak weaseled its way from her throat as his teeth and thumb, simultaneously, grazed over her sensitive nubs.

  The pleasure wasn't enough to completely distract her. She shifted her hips, moving her swollen lips along his length. Just feeling his hard heat made her thoughts dizzy with pleasure.

  But she wasn't going to make it easy on either of them. Her pussy continued to dampen, Tyler's ministrations becoming harsher and more needy. He bucked his hips, the tip of his cock nudging into her slit through the fabric.

  Need pulsed through Tyler's mind. His fingers curled tightly around Miranda's hips. He couldn't wait any longer. A sudden grunt and a squeak of surprise later, she found herself facing the headboard on her hands and knees. His cock pressed against her pussy, the panties still solidly between them. Tyler leaned over her back, breathing hotly into her ear, “How about now?”

  Miranda opened her mouth to open, but a fraction of a second later a yelping moan left her lips. His hand slapped against her ass, stinging pain licked over her flesh. Her ass throbbed with pain-pleasure, hot and prickly.

  In her distracted state, Tyler grabbed her panties and nearly ripped them off her legs. Swollen pink, her pussy glistened in the light. Pleasure took hold of Tyler and squeezed delightfully. Miranda shifted, embarrassment and pride battling through her. She knew he stared at her. His fingers ran along her wet slit and a shudder ran down her spine. Her pussy pulsed against his digits, hoping for something thicker, harder, hotter. Beneath her, her fingers crooked into the bed's comforter.

  His fingers left her opening and he readied himself against her. The head of his cock nudged her lips open, the heat and wetness sending a pink fog of hormones roiling through his thoughts.

  In one swift movement, he buried his cock to the hilt. A shudder raked over her body as a moan released from her lips. Her hips rocked forward and back, pumping along his cock. Tyler enjoyed the motions and the sight of her lips cleaved apart, sucking down him. Her body sucked and rippl
ed along his shaft, sending rivulets of pleasure up and down his body.

  He pounded into her, unable to resist the temptation. She bounced back against his thrusts, driving him deeper and harder. Miranda's body shuddered and trembled, eager for the oncoming waves of pleasure. Her fingers tangled in the comforter beneath her as her elbows dug into the bed. Hot streams of delight tickled over her body, teasing her core to tighten and pulse. Her pussy became slick, hot, and throbbing with every lick of friction from Tyler's cock.

  Heat and pressure tightened his balls, his orgasm oncoming. He struggled against the pleasure as it teased down over his nerves. She hadn't been wrought with an orgasm. He couldn't finish before her. His fingers tightened against her hips as her inner walls sucked and pulsed around his cock.

  Something recognizable tickled at his brain. The way her pussy throbbed, a shudder that wracked her body, how she rolled her hips. It teased his brain with images of her writhing, screaming delight.

  Prickly delight flickered across her nerves just before the ultimate pleasure crashed down on her. Tremors and shivers wracked her body, a moan escalated from her lips, and she pressed her face into the pillow. Miranda bounced desperately against Tyler in a fervent attempt to ease the intense pleasure.

  A hot wave of pleasure crashed against him before he could even stop it. It exploded from his core, shuddered down his body, as heat shot through him. He threw his head back and moaned, his hips thrusting. Miranda gasped as liquid heat caressed her insides. Her whole body tightened while intense throbs shot through her pussy. Another wave of gratification kissed along her body.

  Tyler enjoyed the afterglow inside her, reveling in the sensation he had missed during those long three weeks away from Legacy. He hadn't realized how much he craved for her touch, her body, her orgasms. Gently, he pulled himself free of her pussy. Lowering himself to the bed, he took Miranda in his arms, holding her close.

  Her sweat-slicked body, still coursing with gentle shivers, perfectly fit against him. Another longing became satisfied, even if briefly. Miranda closed her eyes as she sighed in contentment and snuggled against his chest. His heartbeat thrummed against her ear.

  Faintly, she remembered she had a choice to make: helping Tyler or ensuring her own safety. Miranda knew what her heart wanted, but her head still hadn't decided. Could she seriously choose to be with him, despite everything?

  She cracked her eyes open, catching sight of his profile in the forgotten light. Her gaze trailed over his closed eyes, his lashes, his softly parted lips, the rise and fall of his chest. Warm contentment teased against her thoughts. She smiled to herself as sleep tugged her eyelids down, the rhythmic sound of Tyler's heart putting her to sleep.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sunlight peeked through the cracks of the blinds and soldiered through the curtains. Miranda groaned and rolled over into the firm warmth of Tyler's chest. She snuggled down, delight peppering her thoughts. His arms curled around her, tugging her naked body closer to his.

  It was the perfect way to wake up.

  Until forceful cracks rained down on the front door.

  Miranda gasped and bolted up in bed, eyes wide. Her heart thrummed and a chill raced down her back. Her gaze flashed to Tyler as he pushed himself upright, glaring at the door. He exchanged a look with her, raising a finger to his lips. Her gaze flickered, worriedly, to the windows. The blinds and the curtains sufficiently shielded them from view, but paranoia still sunk into her thoughts.

  After sliding soundlessly from the bed and pulling on his jeans, Tyler edged closer to the door. Miranda followed his lead, slipping from bed and tugging on her outfit from yesterday. Her eyes swung wildly around the motel room, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon.

  On tiptoes, Tyler leaned closer to the door's peephole. A wisp of blonde hair caught his gaze before a stubbly jaw obscured everything from view.

  “Tyler, it's me! Are you in there?” Jack's voice pierced through the door in a rushed hiss. The tension in Tyler's shoulders eased. He unlatched the door. Naomi and Jack spilled into the motel room.

  “Jesus, are you two all right?” Miranda stepped forward, grasping her friend by the shoulders. Ruddy cheeked and panting, Naomi looked as if she had run the whole way from the diner to the motel. She trembled under Miranda's touch.

  Jack paced across the room, his hands threading through his hair. “We were followed from the diner. I didn't want them to know where Naomi lived so we came here.”

  “Bald, about six foot, nasty mean mug?” Tyler's hand rose to head height, waving approximately. Miranda's stomach coiled just hearing Baldie's description. The bruises on her elbow throbbed and she resisted the urge to rub at them.

  “Yeah,” Jack turned to Tyler. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes darted to Miranda before flicking back to Tyler. Something clicked into place in his thoughts. The color slightly drained from his face as he motioned to the two of them. “Did he–”

  “Last night,” Tyler nodded, hardly concealing his sour tone, “he almost got Miranda.”

  Naomi gasped and slapped Miranda on the shoulder. “Why didn't you call me?”

  “It sort of happened fast,” she replied as she rubbed the stinging impact. Her gaze averted to her feet. She couldn't very well tell Naomi she had passed out and spent the night with Tyler – not after the words she spewed about him the other night. Then again, she had misread Naomi's aversion to them. An embarrassed flush burned across Miranda's face. It seemed like she couldn't read anyone properly anymore.

  “What do we do?” Jack approached Tyler, his voice dropping. His eyes darted to the women in the room and he leaned in closer. Tyler knew his brother didn't want to ignite a flare of panic, but it was hard to have a private conversation in the motel room. That fact didn't keep Jack from whispering, “It's only a matter of time until they figure out our motel.”

  Jack didn't have to bother. Naomi leaned closer to Miranda, and murmured, “Hey, Miranda, can we talk real quick?”

  “Sure, Naomi, what's u–” Before she could finish, Naomi latched onto her arm and tugged her into the bathroom. She shut the door solidly behind them as she paced the floor. Miranda inched to the opposite side of the bathroom, her shins smacked against the small bathtub.

  She watched Naomi make three round before she dared to inquire, “What's this about?”

  Naomi turned sharply, a flush still burning along her cheeks. Her eyes were bright and glassy, caught between excitement and terror. Miranda swallowed down instant uncertainty. “I'm pregnant.”

  “What?” Miranda gasped, feeling like all the air was knocked from her lungs. She took a step closer to Naomi. “You mean last ni–”

  “No! Like, three weeks ago.”

  Miranda's eyebrows furrowed, wondering if Naomi was freaking out prematurely over a late period. “You mean the one night you and Jack were together?”

  “Yes!”

  Something was not computing in Miranda's head. How could Naomi be pregnant? She was an experienced barfly with precision birth control. Hell, Miranda swore she tracked her ovulation dates just to be extra careful! Without meaning to, Miranda's tone squeaked higher, “Aren't you on birth control?”

  An uncertain knock clattered across the door. The women jumped, their gazes turning to the offending entryway. On the other side, Jack's concerned voice wafted through, “Everything all right in there?”

  “Yes!” Naomi winced as the single word came out as a squawk. She clamped her lips shut, listening for retreat of Jack's footfalls, before turning back to Miranda. She pinned her friend under that bright-eyed, watery gaze. “I am, but it failed or something. I don't know. All I know is there's a bun in the oven, Miranda.”

  Learning from her mistake, Miranda dropped her voice low, “How do you know it's Jack's?”

  “Timing and I haven't been with anyone since.”

  “Really?” Incredulity puckered at her thoughts. Her friend was constantly using and losing men. She had a faster turnover rate
than most retail workplaces. Did Jack mean something to her? The thought made Miranda's heart jitter in pleasant heat. Naomi finding someone she loved, absolutely and dearly, had been an event she looked forward to. Too bad it involved bikers running away from a life-threatening situation.

  Naomi hissed, not even perturbed by Miranda's surprise, “Yes!”

  Silence fell. The bathroom suddenly felt hot and stuffy. Miranda reached over to the switches, flicking on the fan. The mechanisms clanked and creaked to life, buzzing like an oversized hornet above their heads. “Does Jack know?”

  “No,” muttered Naomi, hanging her head. The woman sounded on the verge of tears. She sniffed loudly and wiped something away from her eye.

  Miranda clasped at her friend's shoulder. Tears swelled in her own eyes. She could just imagine Naomi's thoughts and worries mirrored her own. “Okay. What are you going to do?”