Rising to her knees, she shifted back and while he held his cock in place, she slowly lowered herself and sighed when she hit the end of him. Of her.
She planted her palms on his heavily tattooed chest and used that leverage to ride him hard and fast, never breaking eye contact with him once. Not even when she came for the second time and didn’t break her rhythm.
His face was twisted in a grimace, and she knew he struggled to keep her gaze because he wanted to close his eyes and blow his load. But he didn’t. She could see the battle to keep his shit together, to prove to her that he could be everything she needed.
But this was just sex. Nothing more.
Nothing more.
He dragged his fingers through her hair and then palmed both of her breasts, thumbing the nipples until they were hard peaks. And to Ivy, they felt as though they had swelled larger, filled his hands fuller.
Out of breath and her pulse pounding in her neck, she ground down hard against him, driving him as deep as possible.
“Lemme watch you come again.” His voice was low, grumbly, and caused a shiver to run through her.
She grabbed one of his hands kneading her breasts and brought it down to where they were connected. She guided him as they both stimulated her clit, their fingers meshed, pressing her hard, making her grind even harder until she exploded around him.
“That’s it, baby. Squeeze me like a vise with that tight, little pussy. Fuck.” He grunted as his hips rose off the bed. “Fuck,” he barked to the ceiling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
His head lifted off the bed as he watched their hands moving as one, then he bucked her off, flipped her onto her back and sank fully inside her once more.
He dropped almost all his weight to her, shoving his face into her neck, scraping his teeth over her skin.
This man knew how to move his hips. She drew her legs around his thighs and followed his rhythm. Which wasn’t as hard and as rough as she wanted it.
No, it was slow and careful again.
Like last time.
No. Not again.
No.
She raked her nails down his back and he bowed against her. Then she continued to his ass, digging them in hard, tearing at his flesh.
He lifted his head, grabbed her face and kissed her deep, taking possession of her mouth. She squirmed underneath him, fighting this play of his. Whatever he was doing to get her to fall for him.
It wasn’t going to work.
It. Was. Not.
When she sank her teeth into his bottom lip, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he grunted into her mouth, sliding his fingers into her hair and pulling painfully until she released his lower lip.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” he grumbled, but gave her a cocky grin, a dot of crimson appearing on his mouth. “Keep fightin’ it, baby, but I’m determined to win this war.”
“You’re not winning shit.”
His eyes flashed. “Love a challenge.”
A thrill ran through her. “Me, too.”
He grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them over her head, holding them tightly to the bed with one hand.
He dipped his head down low enough to grab the flesh of her left breast into his mouth and he bit her so hard, she knew it was going to leave a mark.
He marked her as his.
Fuck.
His tongue soothed the bite before he went nose to nose with her once more. “You on the pill?”
What the fuck? Why was he asking that now? Was he worried about the condom failing?
“If it breaks, no worries,” she said. It wasn’t a direct answer, but the only one he was going to get.
Then he pulled out of her, ripped the condom off and with a grunt, came deep inside her.
Ivy went completely still, even her breath. Her pulse thumped in her neck as hard as his cock pulsated in her pussy with his release.
“What the fuck did you just do?” she whispered in shock.
“Did what we’re gonna do from now on. Nothing between us. You takin’ everything I give you. Gotta problem with that?”
“Yes!”
“Too fuckin’ bad.”
She slammed both palms into his chest. “Get off me.”
“I’ll get off you when I’m good an’ ready.”
“Jag,” she whispered, her voice shaky and her lips trembling. “You can’t do this. You can’t claim me like this.”
“The fuck I can’t.”
“It isn’t going to work.”
He grunted his answer. And she knew exactly what that grunt meant, which made her furious.
She slammed his chest again. “Get the fuck off me.” He ground his hips into her again, reminding her of how he spilled inside of her. “Now I have to wash you out of me.”
“Ain’t getting rid of me so easily.”
“Whatever, asshole,” she grumbled. “I can’t believe you.” Her fingers curled into a tight fist.
He chuckled. “You gonna punch me, baby?”
She blew out a breath and slowly relaxed her hand. “I should.”
He snorted. “Ain’t gonna hurt me, gonna hurt you since I have a thick skull.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and murmured, “You’ve got that right.”
He brushed a knuckle over her check and said softly, “Baby, look at me.”
Ivy blinked her eyes open. Then regretted it when he had the gentlest of looks in his eyes. Her heart squeezed painfully.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“We need to make it clear—”
He cut her off sharply. “No need to repeat yourself. Heard you the first time. You call, I come, we both come, then I leave. Got it.”
It sounded so simple.
Both of them knew it wasn’t.
“You get what you want then I get what I want.” He reached between them and cupped her mound firmly. “Nobody else in here, Ivy. I’m serious.” He pressed his lips to hers and she tasted the blood she had drawn. He pulled away just enough to say, “Don’t ever lock me out again, either.”
With a grunt, he rolled off of her, off the bed and onto his feet. He gathered his clothes from the floor and his cut from the chair and walked out of her room. She heard the water running and the toilet flushing from the hall bathroom.
When the door squeaked open, she yelled. “If I don’t call, are you still going to show up?”
“Yep.”
Fuck.
“Gonna get one of the prospects to stand outside your door until I can get them to fix it tomorrow,” he yelled from the living room.
He was going to do what? “You’re going to make one of them stand out there all night?”
He peeked his head around the broken bedroom door. “Yeah. Don’t let ‘em in. An’ for fuck’s sake, let ‘em do what they need to do. They wanna patch in, they need to do what I say.”
Then his head disappeared, and she heard his boots thumping down the hallway, the scrape of something heavy being moved, then the clatter of what she could only assume was left of her front door.
“I’m not going to be yours, Jag,” she yelled, hoping he was already out the door.
“Too late.”
“Fuck!” she screamed.
She swore she heard a chuckle. She slammed her fists into the mattress and screamed.
She was afraid he may be right.
Chapter Six
Pierce leaned back against the glass display case that housed handguns. A lot of them.
After Jag left last night, Weasel had shown up to “stand guard” at her broken front door. Despite what Jag said, she invited him inside to hang on the couch. She wasn’t going to have him standing outside all night long.
Ridiculous.
Now three of the prospects were in her apartment replacing both her front door and bedroom door.
Instead of stopping down and having to explain to Ace about why her doors were kicked in, she had texted her brother Dex to tell him she needed to run an important errand and would be in later.
Ivy
knew this errand might bite her in the ass, but her frustration with Jag was apparently driving her to do stupid things.
Though she was far from stupid.
Pierce had his arms crossed over his broad chest and his ankles crossed as he perused her. “When you gonna come work for me? Could use the help.”
She would never work for Pierce. He was a biker who wanted to remain in the old ways. Women were nothing but a doormat and a hole to bust a nut into. “Recruit more prospects. They’re cheap labor.”
“Doin’ that, but this is a gun shop, gotta trust everyone workin’ here an’ can’t have a record.”
“Annie’s helping you out still, right?” Speaking of Annie, Ivy wondered where she was. She didn’t want her aunt overhearing what she came to talk to Pierce about.
“Yeah, only part-time, though. Has to help take care of that bag o’ bones that’s your grandmother.”
She sighed. “You’re such a gem, Pierce.”
He shrugged. “Truth, though, right?”
Ivy shook her head. But she had to stay on good terms with the club president, so she bit her tongue.
He jerked his chin in the direction of the glass display case. “Need a gun?”
“No.”
“Sure? Can teach you to use it.”
Right. That’s what she needed... To have him teaching her how to shoot in his indoor range with no one else around. To him, she was club property and with him being president, he’d think he could have her whenever, wherever, he wanted. She wasn’t claimed by any of the brothers, so in his mind she was fair game. Didn’t matter if he already had an ol’ lady. Wasn’t unheard of for Pierce to take what he wanted.
Also didn’t matter to him that he was old enough to be her father. Pussy was pussy to a man like him.
Which reminded her to state her business and get the fuck out of Dodge before she regretted this whole thing. But she needed to handle it delicately. She really wasn’t supposed to know club business. None of the women were. Though, they did find out some of it... But if the brother who spilled the beans was caught? Not good for him.
However, this time it was Diesel that kind of gave up some of the info to her and Jewel, the rest she overheard from Dex and Ace. Plus, Jewel was a pro at sneaking around the garage, listening for anything interesting.
Luckily, Diesel could sing like a canary and no one would do anything to the man, except maybe pull his rank of Sergeant at Arms. Though if Pierce did that, he’d be stupid. Diesel was the best and scariest enforcer the club ever had. No one on the Executive Committee or even any of the brothers would back the president on a decision like that.
“If you ain’t here for a gun an’ you got somethin’ to say, say it, woman.”
She almost rolled her eyes at him, but she was proud of herself when she didn’t. “I accidentally overheard a conversation about getting one of Dawg’s girls to infiltrate the Knights for intel. Did you find someone?”
He cocked a brow at her. “Expect me to answer that?”
Fucker. “Yes, and I’ll tell you why... I have a proposition...” She pursed her lips as she gathered her thoughts. “You probably can’t trust one of the strippers to do the job right or know what info you need... so...”
“Fuckin’ woman, get to the fuckin’ point.” The impatience ran deep in his gruff voice. “All you bitches talk in circles.”
Ivy sucked in a breath and counted to five. Five wasn’t long enough but it would have to do. “I just think you should send someone in who’s not only smart and loyal to the club, but is part of the club, too. Someone who has some skin in the game.”
“You sayin’ Dawg’s girls ain’t smart?”
It was her turn to cock a brow.
A wide smile crossed his face. “Hear what you’re sayin’. You proposin’ somethin’?”
“Yes.”
“Who you suggest?”
“Me.”
Pierce quickly pushed away from the display case and Ivy instinctively stepped back, her heart racing.
“You?” he barked loud enough that she flinched. “You fuckin’ crazy?”
Probably. “No.”
“You don’t think they know who you are? With that fuckin’ red hair of yours? They don’t know you’re DAMC property?”
“I’ve never met any of them.” At least she didn’t think so.
“Good thing, that.”
“So why would they know who I am?”
“Hard to miss, Ivy. Any of ‘em ever come into the pawn shop when you’re workin’?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Couldn’t miss ‘em if they did. All of ‘em are black an’ would be wearin’ their colors.”
She already knew the Dark Knights were an all-black MC. That was no secret and hard to miss. And since she had a college education, she was sure she could read the words “Dark” and “Knights” on their cuts. Not that she was going to say that to Pierce. Now was not the time to be a smart ass.
“Then no, never saw any of them, never ran into any of them anywhere.”
“Lucky, then. Probably like a girl like you. All that white skin an’ red hair with that temper to boot.”
Temper? She didn’t have a damn temper.
Okay, maybe just a little one.
Before she could respond, he continued with a thoughtful expression, “Though, probably would like a girl like you. Probably swarm you like flies on shit. Try their chance at some sweet white pussy surrounded by a red bush.”
Ivy struggled not to roll her eyes, or even heave at his words. Sometimes Pierce was just a plain old obnoxious asshole. More than sometimes. How he ever got the gavel, she’ll never know. That’s what happened when you let men run things.
“Well, there you go. I’m perfect for it.”
“Why do you want to do this?”
Why? Because she’s crazy, that’s why. Did she want to help the club out? Sure. But that was just the excuse, not the real reason.
She didn’t want to admit to herself the real reason. And if she couldn’t face the truth herself, she certainly wasn’t admitting it to Pierce.
“Show my loyalty to the club,” she said simply.
He frowned. “When was that in question?”
She shrugged. “I’m not saying it was. But you guys need someone, right? Who better than me?”
He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his short salt and pepper hair, and down to his tattooed neck, which he squeezed as he stared at his boots for a moment. When he looked up, his gaze pinned on her hard. “Need to bring it to a vote.”
Shit. No. That wouldn’t work. She should have just done it and not told anyone, but she needed someone to know she was going in. Someone other than Jewel.
“No vote. You bring it to the committee and it’ll be shot down. And then what? Even if the Knights agree to a sit-down, you’ll be going in blind. Wouldn’t it be better to have some intel on what’s up first? Go in prepared?”
He shook his head. “Fuckin’ Ivy. Too damn smart for a female. Could run this club if you had a dick.”
“But I don’t. So let me do this.”
“Ace know you’re here?”
“No. No one knows.”
“Might wanna keep it that way.” He stared at her long enough she wanted to squirm. Finally, he sighed. “You go. Get what you can. Get out. Report directly to me.”
She nodded, trying not to smile.
“Careful what you gotta do to get intel, Ivy. Don’t need any of your blood breathin’ down my neck if you get knocked up by one of those Knights.”
She no longer had to fight back a smile, now she frowned. “It’s not going to get that far.”
“Hope not. Ain’t like they ain’t gonna try for a piece of you though. You bring fresh pussy into Dirty Dick’s, you know they gonna be sniffin’ hard. Maybe even fightin’ over you. Be prepared. Sure you don’t want a gun?”
“No, I’m good.”
Little did he know that she already had one.
Ace got it for her a long time ago and taught her how to shoot it. She hardly ever carried it, though, and kept it locked away in one of the pawn shop’s safes. It was a little .38 snub nose and she doubted she could do much with it in the midst of a brotherhood of bikers who was sure to be packing lots of fire power. But she’d bring along a small container of pepper spray, just to be safe. And to give her a little peace of mind.
Suddenly Pierce stepped closer and before she could back up, he reached out and flipped a finger through the wavy ends of her hair.
“Damn, your hair is hot and feisty like you. Bet you’re searing hot in bed, too, ain’t ya? Jag get a piece of you yet?”
Should she say yes to get him off her back? If Jag claimed her as his, Pierce wouldn’t express interest. At least out loud. But she also didn’t want anyone in the club to know that Jag and her had hooked up.
Plus, Pierce would probably change his mind about her heading into Knights territory if he thought she belonged to Jag. He wouldn’t want to create any static with his Road Captain.
“No.”
“Sure you know you’re on his to-do list. Maybe you can give me a little taste first.”
When he reached for her, she shimmied away from his grasp and rushed to the front door. “Gotta go. Ace is waiting for me to get to the pawn shop. I’m late.”
“Right,” he grunted, looking a little put out.
Before the door almost shut completely behind her, she heard, “And, woman, we did not have this talk, got me?”
Jag gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might shatter. He parked his sled close to but not exactly in line with all the other bikes that sat in front of Dirty Dick’s. Even the glow of the neon beer signs didn’t do shit to light up the stone parking lot. But he could see a Dark Knights prospect standing guard in the shadows at that line of Harleys. The young guy was doing his time and whatever he was told to do to in order to patch in.
Been there, done that, he thought. He’d gone through all that bullshit himself over a decade ago and survived. This guy would, too.
Down & Dirty_Jag Page 9
