BLAMELESS: MC Biker Romance (Black Thorns, #3)

by Franca Storm

  “What’s the problem then?”

  “This!” I snap. I gesture angrily to myself. “Me!”

  “You ain’t that guy no more. Jase shot you up. You didn’t do it to yourself. Ain’t the same, Runner.” He strides over to me, “You feel me?”

  I can see by the look in his eyes and the fierce growl in his voice, just how much he wants that to be true. He needs it to be true. He were there last time ‘round when I were pulling myself outta it and fighting to get clean. He don’t want me going through it again, no more than I do. Thing is, don’t matter one bit that somebody else shot me up. Why? Cuz, that high still hit me. That addictive, better-than-anything rush. Don’t even matter how my body reacted so badly to it. I ain’t gonna remember the puking up soon. Only the high it gave me.

  Guess I take too long answering, cuz he gets in my face and tells me, “You’re gonna see somebody.”

  He means therapy.

  “Can’t,” I say.

  He grabs my arm. “Runner!”

  “Therapy’s for addicts, Ax! You get that? You sending me there’s like saying I am one of ‘em again.”

  “That ain’t what—”

  “Fuck off! Just drop it. I’m recovered, okay? Have been for twenty years! I’m recovered! Recovered!”

  I’m screaming so loud, it wakes Sarah up. I see her lift her head and look our way, all confused and wondering what the hell’s going on.

  Ax goes to say something more, cuz he’s a stubborn bastard, but I stop him, fisting my hand in his cut. I glare up at him and growl low, so Sarah don’t hear, “I got this, so I’m warning you now. Stay outta it. When it comes to this, I don’t care that you’re Prez, or if you’re the fucking King of everything, I’ll make you stay outta it, if I gotta. Last warning, Ax. You feel me?”

  Before he can get another word out, that I know will push me over the edge, I let go of him and walk into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

  The second it shuts and I lean against it, I notice my hands are shaking wildly.

  I slide down the door and bury my face in ‘em.

  Fucking hell.

  Chapter 19

  ~Sarah~

  I’ve been staying at the Black Thorns MC clubhouse for a few days now. Ax and Zeb explained to me that I’m under club protection. The club has taken on the responsibility of protecting me from Eddie and his people. I didn’t understand why the club would care so much until Zeb explained it’s because he claimed me. It makes me something like club property, I believe. I really don’t like the sound of that degrading and extremely sexist explanation. It sounds completely archaic and…odd. But, on the other hand, I know it’s coming from a good place.

  Zeb making a claim on me seems to mean I am his. His woman. But I really don’t know whether he did that just so I could stay here and obtain club protection, or whether he actually feels that way. Does he really want me as his? We still haven’t talked about any of it. I have no idea where we stand.

  In fact, I’ve barely seen him at all.

  I’m not staying with him in his room. At Zeb’s request, Ax had one of the prospects set up another room for me that’s situated at the opposite end of the clubhouse to Zeb’s room. Zeb and I haven’t even touched one another since we sat down to dinner at the safe house several days ago. I really don’t know what to make of it. He seemed really into this thing between us while we were at the safe house.

  But it had just been the two of us then, cut off from the rest of the world and in our own little bubble. Maybe now we’re back to cold, hard reality, the appeal of us has worn off for him. It’s crossed my mind several times that he might be pushing me away. I can’t be certain, because he hasn’t been himself.

  Ever since his brother shot him up that night, he hasn’t been the man I’ve come to know.

  He’s been antsy, irritable and distant.

  Apparently, one of the major jobs he does with the club is fixing up old bikes in a used bike shop in downtown Reirdon Falls. It’s become clear that he has a reputation for being really skilled at it. Ax has banned him from leaving the clubhouse, because he’s under club protection too from Jase and locked down. So, he’s been spending most of every day holed up in the garage attached to the clubhouse, working on some bikes there that a couple of the prospects brought up from the shop in town. Outside of that, he gravitates to the bar for the remaining hours of the day and drinks himself into a stupor.

  I’ve just been trying to give him some space for a while and busying myself cooking for the boys, something which they’ve been very appreciative of. Men and their food…it really is the way to their hearts, that’s for sure. They’ve all been very friendly towards me since the first meal I cooked for them a few days ago. Some of them have been hanging out with me as well. Grit, Mullet, Dealer and Sin have been sitting with me a lot whenever they have time. Smiter has been my most constant companion, though.

  I’m sitting with him right now in the lounge area, watching the evening news on the flat screen TV they had installed a couple of weeks back. I just finished a video call with my staff at Sarah’s Place. Seeing as though I can’t be there in person, that was the next best thing. Thankfully, everything is running smoothly at the diner. At least that’s one positive thing I’ve got going for me in amongst all this hell of being stuck in a strange place with people I barely know and Eddie’s threat hanging over me.

  Unfortunately, Rox hasn’t come into the clubhouse at all, because of Ax calling the lockdown thing. No significant others of the members are allowed inside right now. Smiter explained to me that it’s because the club, itself, is a target as well. When one member is targeted—in this case, Zeb—because he’s a member of a club, the entire thing is put in the firing line.

  The evening news breaks for commercials and I eye Smiter lounging on the couch opposite the armchair I’m relaxing in. “Off to see Halle tonight?” I ask, to make conversation. I’m not going to lie; this entire situation has been making me very antsy. I can’t go to work at my diner, I can’t leave the clubhouse. And Zeb—the one person I do know—barely being around me at all, is not helping things.

  “Nah. Not tonight.”

  “How come?” I ask, without thinking. Wow, that sounded really nosey.

  Fortunately, he doesn’t take offense. Instead, he grins and eyes me over the rim of his half-full beer glass.

  “Keeping it casual, you know? Me going down there every night ain’t gonna maintain that. Plus, with the lockdown, gotta get Ax’s permission to leave. He ain’t too keen on none of us heading down to Brockford right now with Jase and Torvin still being ‘round.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “Please.”

  He takes a sip of his beer. “You ain’t agreeing on that, sweetheart?”

  “On the lockdown part, yeah. But not with the rest.”

  “Yeah? And why not?” he asks, shifting his weight into a sitting position. He leans forward, resting his glass on his knee and looks at me, seeming really interested in what I have to say.

  “A woman can tell when a man wants casual and when he doesn’t. Frequency of visits doesn’t matter.”

  His eyes widen, looking scared for a moment. But he quickly covers it up and clears his throat, before responding in a casual, cool and collected tone, “That right?”

  “Yep. Well, unless you’re dealing with Zeb “Runner” Wilkes, of course. The King of mixed signals.”

  Shit. I can’t believe I said that. It just…came out. Days of frustration finally getting the best of me, I guess.

  To my relief, he chuckles. “He ain’t the easiest guy to figure out, for sure. But he ain’t used to this.”

  “This?”

  “Women like you.”

  “Like me?”

  He smiles kindly. “A good woman.”

  That has me blushing like an idiot.

  “He likes you, so much that he’s claimed you as his. He just needs some time to wrap his head ‘round it all. Plus, what happened to him…it’s
messing with his head.”

  “I know,” I say, sadly.

  He’s about to reply when his eyes dart to something behind me. A loud thud makes me jump and I turn around to see Zeb storming out of Ax’s office.

  Ax follows him out and I hear him yelling angrily. “Calm the fuck down, Runner! You feel me?”

  Zeb smashes his fist into the wall and spins around, roaring back at him, “I can track him, Ax! Jesus fuck! Just lift my lockdown! I got this! It’s my fight!”

  A gasp escapes me then as I watch Ax lunge at him and fist his hand in his cut. He jerks him forward and bellows, “Wrong! It’s the club’s fight! Mess with one of us, mess with all of us. You know our code.”

  “Screw it! You know I can sort this!”

  “You can’t! You ain’t thinking straight! And, like I told you, ‘til you go to those therapy meets I set up for you, you ain’t leaving this damn building!”

  “Jesus,” Smiter mutters. He gets up from the couch and makes his way over to the two of them.

  Ax releases Zeb and I hear Zeb muttering curses. They glare at each other for a moment and then Zeb turns and storms off down the hall towards the inside entrance to the garage.

  I get out of my chair and head over to go after him.

  “Sarah!” Ax calls to me.

  I stop and turn to face him and Smiter.

  “I wouldn’t,” he tells me.

  “He’s volatile right now,” Smiter adds, shaking his head at me with worry in his eyes.

  But I don’t care about their warnings. Zeb is in pain. He might only be displaying anger at the moment, but it doesn’t take much to see the underlying reason for it. He’s hurting.

  “I have to.”

  I turn away and hurry down the hall, following Zeb’s path.

  Thankfully, they don’t try to stop me. Two huge guys like them wouldn’t really need to do much to make that happen.

  I push through the door into the garage. It shuts behind me automatically with a grating screech that has me cringing.

  Zeb turns around at the sound. His eyes flash when he sees it’s me standing there.

  There are two other guys inside. One is working on a bike that looks half put together. The other is doing something to the engine of an old red Corvette. There have to be about a dozen bikes in various states of repair inside the large space. There’s also a massive black shiny Hummer over in the corner. Zeb is standing between it and a bench cluttered with tools as he eyes me.

  He gives the guys a quick glance and snaps, “Out. Now.”

  At his word, they put down their tools quickly and hurry through the door at the opposite end of the garage—the one that leads outside into the courtyard.

  Now that we’re alone, I don’t waste any time in getting to what I came here to say to him.

  “Zeb, I—”

  He holds up his hand. “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  “You were gonna ask if I’m okay, yeah?”

  “I…yes…I know you’re not. I saw your blow up with Ax.”

  He sighs and reaches behind him. I watch him snatch up a half-full bottle of beer from the workbench and gulp it down. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and puts it back down.

  “Zeb?” I press.

  He folds his arms across his chest and shakes his head at me. “Can’t do this. Can’t talk right now. Just go, darlin’.”

  He turns his back to me and I see him slap his hands on the hood of the Hummer. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

  I walk over to him, the soles of my flats not making a sound on the concrete floor.

  When I reach him, I lay my hand gently on his back. “Zeb, let me help you.”

  He spins around, making me jump and cry out from the surprise of it.

  His eyes are hard this time as he tells me, “Go, Sarah. I mean it.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He steps into me and growls. “Telling you for your own good. Fuck, do it. Go.”

  “You can’t scare me away, Zeb.”

  He growls to himself and moves away. “You think you can help me? That it?”

  “Just tell me what you need.”

  He scoffs. “What I need, huh?” He strides back to me and gets in my face, forcing me to back up. My ass hits the hood of the hummer. He leans in to me and slaps his hands down either side of me, boxing me in. “What I need ain’t something you can give me.”

  “Wh…what?” I struggle to get out, finding it hard to breathe with him suddenly this close.

  “I need to get some shit outta my head. Outta my system. And the way I do that is booze or sex. But both…both I gotta do hard-core. No holds barred. All right? You wanted to know. Now you do.”

  He pushes off the truck and steps back from me.

  “You need…your whores?”

  His eyes narrow. “Ain’t no more whores for me!” he yells, really pissed at my question.

  “What?”

  “We’re together now! You and me. And I don’t cheat, woman! You hear me?”

  Oh. Okay, then. I guess I have my answer on that at last. But then…then he’s saying now we’re together, he can’t get what he needs…sexually? How dare he?

  “Come here!” I find myself demanding angrily all of a sudden.

  He starts in surprise at this sudden flare up of spunkiness from me. It has him stepping up to me again. “Yeah?”

  I hold my hands out to the sides. “Take it.”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head vehemently.

  “Why not?”

  “Cuz…you ain’t…it ain’t you. Too rough…no…no…no.”

  I grab his arms and his gaze snaps to mine. “Zeb, don’t tell me who, or what I am. How dare you think you can decide this for me? How dare you refuse to let me help you? For days you’ve just been avoiding me. And then you tell me we’re together…in your mind. It’s not fair! You can’t do this to me! You can’t decide everything in this…this…relationship of ours!” I stomp my foot and yell, “It’s not fair! Stop it!”

  He just stares at me, unmoving, for several long seconds of intense silence.

  And then he says, “Tell me to stop.”

  Before I can get a word out, he lunges at me and attacks me with his mouth.

  Oh shit!

  He kisses me harder than he ever has. He doesn’t wait for my permission this time either, before shoving his tongue into my mouth. I can barely breathe as his lips, tongue and teeth devour my mouth, taking intense possession of every part.

  He grabs my wrists then as he leans over me, forcing me to lay back on the hood of the truck. He pulls them up over my head and pins them there with one hand. With his other, he grabs my ass and jerks me up onto the hood so my back is flat against it.

  He breaks our kiss as he climbs onto me, straddling my hips, while his hand continues to trap mine above my head, holding me at his mercy.

  “Tell me. Tell me to stop, Sarah.”

  I shake my head. “No,” I pant, struggling to catch my breath from the intensity.

  He shakes off his cut and then he’s ripping his t-shirt over his head in the next second and revealing those amazing rock solid abs of his. He smirks at the look on my face as his fingers glide down to his jeans. He pops the fly and he’s pushing them down frantically then. He’s not wearing any boxers and I gasp when his dick comes into view, as he pushes them down to the middle of his thighs. And then he’s tugging down mine. He doesn’t even take the time to take my panties off. He just rips them off me roughly, making me cry out in surprise.

  “Sarah,” he growls as his hand comes up again and holds my wrists down above my head.

  He thrusts into me then, shocking me with the lack of warning.

  “Fuck,” he grunts. “Tightest fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”

  He drives deep, pulling out almost all the way and then slamming back in again hard, driving so incredibly deep. It’s rough and brutal and every thrust has me screaming from the ferocity of it.
This is what he was trying to warn me about.

  “Tell me,” he grinds out as he slams back into me once more. “Tell me…to…” he pulls out. “Stop!” he yells, thrusting deep again.

  I shake my head from side to side.

  Desperation clouds his face and he groans, “Sarah.”

  He pulls out, grabs my hips and lifts me up, his every movement jerky and urgent. He carries me over to the workbench. And then he’s sweeping his hand over it, knocking all the clutter onto the floor. It crashes to the floor with thunderous clang after clang, echoing through the garage. He lays me down on it.

  His hands grab my thighs roughly, his fingers pinching the soft flesh there. He spreads them wide, holding me open.

  And then his mouth is on me, his tongue lapping at my pussy wildly.

  He doesn’t build me up slowly like he’s done before.

  No, he overwhelms me immediately.

  “Oh God! Shit!” I scream out, digging my nails into his shoulders.

  He thrusts his tongue inside me and I almost buck up off the workbench. In and out. Hard and deep, just like with his dick moments ago.

  “Zeb! Ah!” I scream, thrashing beneath him as his mouth assaults me with wild licks, kisses, nips and…sucking. Oh God…he starts sucking my clit into his mouth.

  I dig my nails into the workbench and cry out, “No. I can’t. It’s too much! Zeb! Ah!”

  “Yes!” he roars, pulling his mouth from my pussy. “Take it. Come. Give it up to me,” he commands, in a fierce tone I’ve never heard from him before. I look down at him and the look in his eyes makes me shudder. It’s wild. Primal. Uncontrolled and untamed.

  His mouth is back on me in the next second and he’s suckling at my clit again, showing me absolutely no mercy.

  He’s forcing me to come.

  He’s hell-bent and desperate for me to give it up to him. I guess he needs the rush of watching me come undone because of him.

  Not only do I want to give that to him, but I have to. He’s not giving me a choice. He’s brought me right to the edge.

  I throw my head back and scream at the top of my lungs as my orgasm slams into me with a brutal intensity I can barely breathe through. “Yes! Zeb! Zeb! Yes!”