Destroying Beauty (Hell Hounds Motorcycle Club): Vegas Titans Series

by Loren, Celia

  "Who?

  "The club guy."

  "I thought you said he was boring!"

  "Ugh, I know. What can I say? I feel my baby timer ticking away in there." She puts her glass in the sink and wraps me in a quick hug. "Don't worry about Holt. I'm sure he got caught up in something. It seemed like he was really into you."

  I smile at her and watch her sashay down the hallway. My head jerks back as I hear my phone ring in the bedroom. I close the door and hurry inside. It's Holt. I debate not answering, letting him stew a little, but know I shouldn't play games.

  "Hey," I answer.

  "Hey." The sound of his low voice sends a shiver through my spine. "Sorry about today. Maybe we could get you the plants next week."

  "It's OK. I actually went to the nursery and got them myself this afternoon."

  I hear him pause.

  "Oh, great. Did you still want to hang out tonight?"

  "Sure."

  "Mind coming out here?"

  "Um, yeah, sure," I reply.

  "Give me a call when you're at the exit and I'll give you directions," he says shortly, and I hear him hang up.

  I frown down at my phone. What the fuck was that? Why was he acting so distant? I feel my eyes well up with tears, my "cool girl" routine broken by his dismissiveness. I thought there was something…well, special, between us, though now hearing myself think that word makes me roll my eyes at myself. I shouldn't have let myself get attached so quickly. It's just, meeting him at the time I did, after the shooting, it felt almost synchronistic. Like he was meant to help me through it, or something.

  Stop thinking like that! Maybe I should call him back. Text him, even. Say I can't go. But maybe when we see each other…there's no denying our physical chemistry. Every time we've seen each other we've tried something new and it just keeps getting better.

  I defiantly wipe the tears from my eyes and head to my closet to pick out something that will make his jaw drop.

  I park down the street from the bar Holt directed me to. His abruptness on the phone surprised me again, and now I'm rethinking my short dress and heels. This neighborhood is seriously seedy. I sigh and step out of my car, tottering a bit on the uneven cement.

  I pull down the hem of my tight tank dress as I walk to the doors of the bar. As I haul the heavy door open and step inside, I feel several sets of eyes turn toward me and someone immediately whistles. I look around nervously for Holt, but the place is so dark I can barely see and music blares from the speakers.

  There, that hulking shape in the booth at the back is probably him. I step around several large, rough-looking men and fewer women, working my way toward him without trying to attract any attention. It doesn't work.

  "Hey baby." Foul B.O. hits my nose as a man slings his arm over my shoulders. "You look good enough to eat."

  "Not interested," I say flatly, and shrug off his arm as I pick up my pace towards Holt.

  "Hey, c'mon," he cries, following me. I reach the booth and Holt glances up at me. The strange man looks between us. "Oh, sorry, Holt. Didn't know."

  "Friend of yours?" I ask, looking after him as he scurries away.

  "Nah. Think I've seen him around here a few times, though," Holt says casually.

  "OK..." I slide down into the booth across from him. I watch him look over the top of my dress before he returns to his beer. "So, um, I think the garden came out well."

  "Oh, yeah?"

  "Yeah. I watched the light yesterday like you said, and the kitchen window gets almost full sun. I got these really tiny plants at the nursery. I thought maybe growing from seeds for the first time would be too difficult. And I got this silver planter to put them in that attaches over the sill. Dill, thyme, rosemary, and basil." I realize I'm babbling and bite my lip, feeling embarrassed. Holt is just staring down at his beer. Anger flares inside me and I take a deep breath to keep my voice calm. "You're acting weird. If you didn't want me to come to this shithole, then you shouldn't have invited me. After what….you know…life's too short for this kind of bullshit."

  I stand up and walk away. I feel Holt's hand on my wrist after I've barely taken a single step.

  "Wait."

  "Why?" I demand.

  "I'm sorry. Will you sit back down? Please?" I glare down at him, but soften as I see his gray-green eyes looking up at me with sadness in them. Whatever front he'd been putting up, it's gone.

  I step back and slide into the booth. He runs his hands through his hair. I examine his face. He's got bags under his eyes.

  "I got wasted last night. I woke up a few hours ago."

  "Alright…"

  "I was drinking because, fuck. I was thinking about you too much."

  I smile. "Yeah, I know that feeling. I mean, about you."

  "There are some things about me…" he pauses, seeming like he's trying to gather his words, and pushes around his empty pint glass. "Can I get you a beer?" he asks suddenly.

  "Yeah, sure."

  He stands up and then bends over, kissing me quickly on the lips, just long enough to send a quiver running through my body. He stares at me for a second before turning around and walking to the bar. I blink and look after him. He bends over the bar, leaning his forearms against it. I feel a twinge of longing in my stomach, and wish we were alone in bed holding each other right now. I take a deep breath. At least he seems more like himself now.

  A man cuts off my vision of him, moving from the corner of the bar and approaching Holt from behind. I frown at him, not liking something about the way he's moving. The dim light from bare ceiling bulbs glints off something in his hand, gripped tightly next to my leg. A knife, I realize with horror.

  "Holt!" I scream, standing up as the man nears him. A few people near me follow my gaze and stand up, too, but no one's doing anything. And the music is too loud—Holt can't hear me. I won't be able to reach him in time. My hand brushes against Holt's empty pint glass on the table. Before I can think about what I'm doing, I pick it up and chuck it as hard as I can at the man's back.

  The man stumbles forward as it slams into his spine. The glass lands on the ground with a crash and Holt spins around at the noise. I watch him glance at the man in front of him and then at the knife in his hand.

  I scream as the man lunges forward, aiming his knife at Holt's gut. The people around them at the bar back up, not wanting to get involved. Holt deftly steps away and the man's arm sails past him. Holt shifts his weight and leans back in, slamming the man's hand onto the bar. The knife goes clattering across the floor and I run over to pick it up and then stand awkwardly holding it and watching the fight, unsure of what I should do, but knowing I feel better with the knife out of the picture.

  Not that Holt looks like he needs any help. I mean, I knew he was strong, obviously, but he moves like a seasoned fighter. I watch as he slams his knee into the stranger's face, sending him to the floor, where he stays. Holt watches him for a second to see if he'll get up and then marches over to me, his expression deadly serious.

  "Let's go," he orders me, taking my hand and pulling me to the door. The circle of people that gathered around the scene separate for us as we head outside, though I get the impression it wasn't the first time a fight like that has broken out in that place. Holt hurries over to a motorcycle parked right outside.

  "Is this yours?" I ask him, completely dumbfounded, as he swings his leg over it.

  "Get on," he says gruffly, then glances down at my other hand. "What are you doing with that?" he asks, his eyes widening at the sight of the knife.

  "I, I don't know. I just grabbed it."

  "Good work," he says with a little smile. He stands back up from the bike and takes it from me by the handle, then tosses it down a sewer grate next to us. "Get on the back, and hold on tight."

  Chapter Twelve

  Holt

  "You get inside. I have to make a call," I instruct Jo as I cut the engine inside my garage. The door shuts behind us and the dim overhead bulb on the motor flickers on.


  "No. First tell me what's going on," she says. Her voice quavers slightly but her gaze is steely. "I mean, who was that guy?"

  "He's…he's this guy who has a beef with a friend of mine."

  "Uh-huh. One of your mysterious friends. And you often have "beefs" with people?"

  "Now and then."

  "Wow. You said that really casually."

  "It's not…it's never casual for me. I just don't want to involve you in this. I'm trying to be honest with you."

  "Why is that something you have to try at?" she asks, pinning me with her eyes. I don't have a response for her. She sighs, rolling her right arm with a little wince.

  "You OK?"

  "I guess I just tweaked my arm throwing that glass. I don't do that motion very often. Not since middle school softball."

  "When you threw a glass?" I ask, my brow furrowing. What's she talking about?

  "Yeah, at that guy. I yelled to warn you, but you couldn't hear me, so I threw the glass on the table at his back," she relays matter-of-factly. "I didn't know what else to do."

  "That's what that sound was? I didn’t realize…" I rub my hand over my scruff, shocked. "You probably saved my life," I murmur. She shrugs, looking at a loss for words. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry you had to see that. To be there. Are you OK?"

  "I don't know…I guess so. I feel shaky. It's not the worst I've seen, though," she adds with a short laugh.

  I walk over to her, tentatively placing my hands on her arms, not sure how she'll react to my touch. But she falls into me, tucking her head against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, twisting my fingers into her hair, feeling like it's been forever since I've touched her.

  "I was really scared," she whispers after a moment. I kiss the top of her head. "I thought something was going to happen to you. I don't want to lose you. I can't."

  "Nothing's going to happen to me. I promise." I close my eyes, trying to lose myself in her touch, her scent, but feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt wrap itself up from my stomach and hold me by the throat. Here she is worrying something's going to happen to me, when she's the one who's in much more imminent danger.

  I have to tell Bark about tonight. I mean, she saved my life. Now I can't be accused of letting it become too personal—it's a simple fact. I can't allow anything to happen to her.

  "Come inside," I whisper, nudging her a little. I feel her nod against my chest, and lead her through the door at the back of the garage. She breaks away from me and walks into the kitchen, rooting around my cabinets. "What are you looking for?"

  "Tea," she replies, still searching. She holds up an old box that says Twinings that I don't even remember buying. "And you've got whiskey," she adds nodding to the Jack on the counter. "I could use a Hot Toddy. It's…it's just been a lot lately, you know?"

  "Relax. I can make it."

  "I got it. I'll feel better doing something," she says, pulling out a pot and running water into it. "How come you didn't tell me you own a motorcycle?"

  "I guess I was worried it would scare you off." That's at least a partial truth.

  "And you look like you know how to fight," she adds, placing the pot on a burner and turning it up high.

  "I do. I grew up in a neighborhood where it was helpful. Even trained for MMA fights for a bit, until I decided to start my own business. My parents, they kind of floated through life. I was pretty much a latchkey kid. So I wanted to make something permanent for myself."

  She looks at me for a moment, and I can't read her expression. "I don't know why you wouldn't have told me that stuff in the first place. I've told you a lot."

  "You're right. I just don't like talking about that stuff…I hated that time in my life. Never knowing where my parents were going to be, if there was going to be any food in the cupboards. That's…that's why I like to be in control now. I want to know I can handle anything." I see her eyes soften and move into her, sliding my hands down her back and over her ass. "I care what you think about me, is the thing. More than maybe anyone else in my life."

  "But you have to be honest with me."

  "I know. And I am sorry about earlier today. I felt like I had to pull away a little. I won't do it again."

  "Is there anything else you aren't telling me?" She looks up at me, her blue eyes wide and searching.

  If there was ever an opening, this is it. But I swallow down the truth. "No. That's it." She stands on her tiptoes, laying a quick kiss on my lips before pulling away to turn off the burner. She takes a couple of mugs out of the cabinet and fixes our drinks, then we kick off our shoes and settle onto the couch to drink them. I smile at her as she tries to get comfortable in her short dress.

  "What?" she says with a grin.

  "Nothing. Just that I can see what color underwear you've got on."

  "You were acting weird," she replies with a smile, trying, and failing, to tuck her dress under her butt. She stretches her legs out so that they just barely hit the outside of my thigh. "I was trying to get your attention."

  "You've got it. And…do you have anyone else's attention?"

  "What?" she asks, cocking her head at me in confusion as I play with the tag on the tea bag. God, it's been a long time since I've done this.

  "I don't want you to see anyone else," I finally say, raising my gaze to hers.

  She looks surprised, but whispers, "I'm not."

  "Good. Me neither." I feel her toes wiggle against my leg and put down my mug on the side table. I pick up her foot as she bites her lip. I slip my hand under the arch of her foot, lifting it up to my mouth. I smile at her turquoise-painted nails and bite down softly on her big toe. She gasps as my teeth make contact. I wrap my lips around her and suck hard, watching her pretty lips fall open as she watches me. She coyly raises her mug to her mouth, daring me to disrupt her.

  I take another toe in my mouth, circling my tongue around it. Her eyelashes flutter and she continues watching me. I bend down, kissing the top of her foot softly, then licking up to her ankle. I alternate kissing and licking up her calf, then swirl my tongue around the back of her knee. She gasps softly but takes another sip of her drink. I grin, and move slowly up her thigh. As I reach her inner thigh, my head forcing her legs to part a bit, I take a soft nibble. Her mug wobbles in her hand as her eyes roll back in her head, but she takes a deep breath and then another sip.

  I smile, knowing she can't hold out much longer, and eye the triangle of black lacy underwear a few inches away. Shifting my legs underneath me, I can feel the heat emanating from her and blow softly against it. I hear her breath catch in her throat and she brings her other hand up to the mug, steadying it as she squirms. With a smile, she puts it down on the wooden coffee table, admitting defeat.

  I slide my hands under her ass and lift her up and toward me. I keep my eyes on her face as I take the sides of her tiny dress in my hands and pull it up around her tight stomach. I sigh in satisfaction at the sight of her sexy black thong, and tell myself to be patient, keep her on the edge for as long as possible. I wouldn't have called myself a selfish lover before, but with Jo, I just love watching her come as much as I love coming myself.

  I lean my head in between her legs and bury my nose in the lacy fabric, then lick hard against her clit. She moans, and I know she wants me to take off her panties, but I want to tease her a little more. I bring my hand up and run two fingers from her opening to her clit, feeling my way, then flick back and forth across her as she gasps. I repeat this motion again and again until her underwear is soaked with her desire and I can feel it against my fingertips.

  I bring both hands to her hips, taking the sides of her panties and pulling them down. She arches her hips to help me and brings her feet together as I pull them off her and toss them on the ground next to us. I take her legs and put them on my shoulder as I look down at her flushed, glazed expression. With a grin, I bend back down and take a long lick of her. She cries out, arching toward me with desire. I go slowly, circling her opening, tasting her pleasure. I s
lip two fingers inside of her, knowing she's getting used to my size and can take it. I curl them against her g-spot and bring my other hand up to her lower stomach, pressing back against the one inside her.

  "Oh, oh, Holt!" she cries, and I want to take her right now. But I take a deep breath and move up to her clit, sucking lightly on it as she spasms underneath me. I suck until she's about to come, then pull back and gently circle my tongue around her and begin thrusting my fingers in and out of her. She quiets for a moment and then begins crying out again. This time I take her all the way, flicking my tongue faster and faster across her clit and matching the pace with my fingers pushing inside her. I feel her clench around my hand as her body bucks wildly and she screams intelligibly.

  I keep going until her body stills, and softly kiss her as I think of how I want to have her tonight. I've been trying more and more things with her. Her experience seems to be pretty limited—her ex must have been a boring fuck—and I love watching her eyes widen when I introduce her to something new. I'm hindered slightly by the fact that I don't want her to see my back tattoo, because if I had my druthers, I'd always be fucking her with the lights on so I could see her gorgeous body. Her hand moves next to her thigh as I pull my head back, and I smile, picking it up and moving it to her crotch.

  "Holt…" she says, surprised, as I move her fingers around her clit.

  "I want to watch you do it," I say, standing up to take my pants and boxers off. I move to her, pushing her dress up and then pulling it off her shoulders. "C'mon, I'll help you."

  I reach behind her and unhook her bra and toss it on the floor, licking my lips at the sight of her full, heaving breasts. I kneel on the floor beside her, taking her nipple into my mouth as I cover her hand in mine, moving it around her clit. She closes her eyes uncertainly, her legs moving around as they try to find a comfortable position on the couch. I turn her face to me and kiss her lips, sliding my tongue into her mouth as our fingers circle her clit together. She opens her mouth to mine, and I feel her tongue press against mine as she tastes herself on my lips. I break away, kissing across her cheek to her ear. I suck and nibble on her earlobe as she moans.