Lick: Devil's Fury Book 2

by Torrie Robles

“Do not ever call me that again. I’d rather you stick to sugar tits.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “I knew you’d see things my way.”

  “You’re not getting out of answering my question by trying to distract me with your crudeness. I know you, Tylan McCoy. Don’t you play your games with me.”

  “Boy, you’ve got a real mom voice going there, Sugar Lips.”

  She shrugs. “I’m practicing.”

  This hits me the wrong way, and my playful mood turns sour. Looking out the window, I try to rein the anger in. I try to focus on the good of what we’re trying to do here, and I remind myself that I’m not only doing this for those kids, but I’m doing it to make sure she isn’t being sucked into this lifestyle.

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice is full of remorse. I know she didn’t mean anything by it.

  I turn my gaze to her. “You wanna know why I shave my head? I’ll tell you, but you aren’t gonna like it.”

  “It won’t change anything, you know? If you do decide to tell me the details of your past and not gloss over them, it won’t change how I see you.”

  “And how do you see me?”

  “As one of the strongest people I know—ever known, really.”

  Fuck me. I know she ain’t lying. Only truth flows from her lips, and I don’t know if how she sees me makes me angry or ecstatic.

  “The man who abused me used to grab me by my hair. It was his way of controlling me. Like my hair was his handle.”

  “I’m in the mood, boy.”

  The sound of Teddy’s voice and what he’s implying sends chills up my spine. I close my eyes, hoping that I’m just imagining him behind me. Once I feel his hand on my shoulder, I take off down the hall, but he grabs the back of my hair, pulling me back against his chest, his hard dick poking me in the back.

  I’m not strong enough to get away. I’m never strong enough.

  “Be a good boy, Tylan.” He tugs at my hair as he pushes me down the hall. My arms shoot out, trying to block entrance into my room, but with a shove in my back with his free hand, I stumble into the room as he lets go of my hair.

  “You know the routine.”

  He pulls his shirt over his head. His chest is riddled with bruises and scars, and I wonder if other kids put them there as they struggled against him. I take a step to go around him, but he reaches for my hair again. It rips from its roots, stinging my head. Tears spring to my eyes. He pulls me to him, the stench of his breath hitting my face.

  “You know I like it when you fight me.” His tongue hits my cheek as he licks up my face. “I love the taste of your salty tears.”

  She brushes the tears from her eyes. “Don’t fucking do that,” I tell her.

  “Do what? Care? Have emotions? Be an actual human being?”

  “Don’t fucking pity me.”

  “Pity you? It’s kinda hard not to. But it’s not a bad thing. I’d never look down on you because you’ve had a hard upbringing. That’s not your fault. My heart goes out to the little boy and young man who had to deal with that stuff. I do not pity the man you are today because I know that man wouldn’t stand for any of that. He wouldn’t allow it, but that boy is a different story, and he deserves someone who cares.”

  I don’t respond to anything she says. No reason to argue my stance on the subject.

  “You know…” Her voice breaks through my thoughts. “I understand the reason behind the whole shaving. It’s a control thing for you. No hair to grab, no way for him to force you. But he’s not here, Tylan. And you’re in control of your life now.”

  “I’m fucking trying, Jenni.”

  The car ride is quiet the rest of the way. It makes me sick to think of the awful things he had to go through growing up. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to come to terms with the things he’s told me.

  He stalks ahead of me as I follow him into the building. I’m not sure what the next step is, but the fact that he’s willing to try says that he isn’t a lost cause.

  “Good morning,” Maggie addresses us, shaking my hand and nodding politely to Lick. “I hope you’re ready for this.” She nods again and turns to leave. I follow her as Lick stays with his gaze fastened to the floor, rooted in his spot.

  “What are you doing?” I ask when I turn around. He lifts his gaze from the floor to me. There’s so much uncertainty floating in his eyes. “Tylan?”

  He pulls on the hem of his flannel jacket, and I notice the black leather of his cut behind the cottony fabric. I’ve never seen him so confined in his clothes. Even in the chill of the night, he’s always in jeans, a thin T-shirt, and his cut. I know he’s trying to make an effort. He’s purposely covering up who he is to make sure we have a shot at getting his niece and nephew, and I’m not sure if I should feel proud or sad.

  “Yeah, I’m coming. Don’t get your panties in a twist. You’re wearing britches, aren’t cha?” In three long strides, he’s caught up with me.

  My eyes widen, and I feel the embarrassment creep up my neck. “Seriously?” My eyes dart around the area to see if anyone heard his mouth. There are two women and one man staring in our direction. I turn on my heel and continue my way towards Maggie who seems to be observing us with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

  “It’s refreshing, Mr. McCoy,” Maggie says as we approach.

  “What’s that?” His voice comes from behind me, but it’s the feel of his hand on my shoulder that has me fidgety.

  Maggie peers down at me then back at Tylan. “Because even though crude and a bit unconventional, you’re true to yourself. We don’t see that a lot these days. People are always trying to please everyone, and in the end, they’re unhappy.”

  “He’s anything but compliant,” I tell her as she pulls the door open and we continue down the hall.

  “I am who the fuck I am.”

  “All right.” Maggie places a stack of papers on the table in front of her. “Have you filled out the paperwork I sent home with you?” She lifts her brow.

  “I did.” Lick pulls a now rolled stack of paper from his flannel. “There’s some questions that I have and some information that I need you to know.” He begins to flatten the papers out. “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right. Why don’t you ask me those questions and tell me those things you feel that I need to know?”

  “I’m a member of a motorcycle club,” he says as he removes his jacket. I swallow as my eyes cut to Maggie. She doesn’t seem phased by what he divulged. “I thought coming here, hiding the fact that I’ve spent most of my life as a member of an MC would be the best for the kids. Better my chances to get them and try to give them what I never had. But that’s not who I am, and I ain’t no pansy-ass piece of shit who hides who they really are. You said yourself that you don’t see many people stay true to who they are. The fact is, I’m trying to do right by a woman who cared about herself more than her own fucking kids. But I’ll always be a member of an MC. That fact ain’t gonna fucking change.”

  “I see,” she tells him. “Anything more?”

  “Yeah” He sits up, folding his arms and resting them on the table. “The name’s Lick.”

  “Good grief,” I murmur under my breath. His behavior has me a little shocked.

  She laughs. “Is that your road name, Mr. McCoy?”

  “It is.”

  “Do I want to know how you got that name?”

  “You don’t,” I butt in.

  She shakes her head. “I’m going to let you in on a little something, Mr. McCoy. My Harold, God rest his soul, was named Hell Raiser for forty years. He earned his name on and off the road.” She winks. “And in that time, he rode his bike, did his biker thing and helped me raise five hellions who turned out to be beautiful people. If you think telling me this information is gonna have me seeing red flags, you’ve got another thing coming. Because you know what it tells me?”

  “What does it tell you?”

  “That you know the meaning of family. Be it blood or not, you understand
the importance.”

  “So, they’re going to let you get the kids?” Savannah asks as she pulls glasses from a box and places them in the cupboard.

  I’m currently in nesting mode. I need to get this house settled and looking like a home before the home inspection. Maggie said that there will be another person with her when she makes the visit. Apparently, this is protocol. I guess it takes a majority vote to place kids in homes.

  “I think so.” I stack some Tupperware in the lower cupboard. “She seems confident. The background check came back clean on Tylan.” I drag another box along the floor pulling out old pots and pans. Some of it was from Bianca’s house while other stuff came from old members long since gone. Most of this stuff has been in storage for years. It may be old, but it’ll work to fill the cabinets and make it look like we know what we’re doing. Bianca insisted on filling the living room with new furniture. Tylan didn’t like it, but one look from me and he conceded.

  The house Cut gave us is larger than the one that Sin and Savannah are currently in. This is a four bedroom, three bath house, with both a family room and a living room. I can appreciate the extra room because I remember the chaos my brother and his friends would make in our house. It was awful when they were over, taking up the living room with their smelly socks and boy farts. The more room we have for the kids, the better. I’m shooting for normal with them. As normal as growing up in an MC can be for two kids. I believe that these kids’ lives will be different, better than what Tylan and I both had. That’s why we’re doing this, isn’t it?

  “Are you worried?” It’s been seven months since Savannah gave birth to Grace and she’s turned into such a worry wart. I’m not sure if the events leading up to Grace’s birth has jaded her, or if she’s always lived her life looking over her shoulder waiting for something to happen.

  “I’m not worried.” I stand, placing my hands on my hip. “Why would I be worried? They’re kids. Not patients from a psych ward.”

  “They have baggage,” she whispers like it’s a secret.

  “They’re kids. They’ll adapt. Why are you so against this?” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “No.” She points at my arms. “Don’t get all bulldog, Jenni. I’m only asking. I’m worried about you and what you’re doing here.”

  “I’m doing what’s best for those kids. Don’t they deserve to have a chance?”

  “Yeah, but–”

  “Hey,” I hear Cruise’s voice call from the front door. “Brass said you guys need help hauling some stuff from the storage unit?”

  I give Savannah a look, hoping that she’ll take a hint and help me out with him, but the shrug of her shoulder tells me that isn’t happening. I wipe my hands on the front of my shorts, heading out to meet him.

  He’s leaning against a wall in the living room. His dirty blond hair is up in a slick ponytail, and his tattoos are on full display as he’s only wearing his cut and a pair of worn jeans. He’s nice to look at, but I can’t get over the odd feeling I get when he’s around, and I’m not going to push any type of friendship with him.

  “What do you need?” His voice sounds flat. Annoyed, even.

  “Okay, um…” I look around the room, ticking my nail at my teeth while I think of where he can start. The room needs a thorough painting, but with the time crunch, we’re going to have to tackle that after the kids are here. His hand wraps around my wrist, pulling my finger from my mouth.

  “It’s not hard, Jenni Girl. I’m here to move the storage unit.” His voice has a rasp to it. At times, I think I hear a southern draw to it, but he tends to cover it up.

  I start to pull my hand away, but it only causes his grip to tighten. “I need to, um…”

  He misunderstands my speechlessness and gives me a sly grin. He thinks he affected me in the way he affects most of the woman around here. “You know you don’t have to do this.”

  I rip my hand away, rubbing my wrist. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I don’t?” He takes a step closer towards me, placing a hand on my hip and pulling me to his body. “How is it that you’ve gone twenty-four years with this fine ass, yet you haven’t given it up to anyone?” He tilts his head, waiting for my answer.

  Blinking my eyes, I swallow down the feeling of betrayal and humiliation. I know Twist, Poppy, and Scarlet wouldn’t tell him. I know it was either Kimmy or Britt. Shaking my head, I finally find my voice. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Are you really going to play it like that, Jenni Girl? Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s cock blocking the entire club because he can’t stand the thought of one of us sinking into that sweet pussy when he can’t.”

  “Get your fucking hands off her,” Tylan’s voice booms, making me jump. He’s heaving, body shaking and his eyes hold the fury that his body portrays. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you, huh?” He stalks towards us. The hand that Cruise still has on my hip rotates my body so that I’m facing Tylan with Cruise at my back. His eyes grate down my body and land on Cruise’s still gripped hand.

  “The only reason you’re even taking those kids in is because it will keep her too busy with your shit to worry about living her life and looking for someone for her untouched pussy. You gonna tell me I’m wrong?”

  Tylan’s hand flies up and grabs Cruise by the neck. I yelp, Cruise’s nails digging into my skin as I duck out of the way.

  “You’re such a shit eating dickhead, you know that? Always in my fucking business. Stirring up trouble because you’re fucking pissed that she keeps turning her back on you to look at me.”

  “You think you can keep her?” he grits out as Tylan tightens his grip around his neck. “She isn’t a possession. And she doesn’t need to clean up your shit.”

  Tylan drops his grip on Cruise and immediately swings his fist, connecting with his jaw and knocking him on his butt in the middle of the living room. A scream rips from my throat.

  “Get the fuck out,” Tylan seethes. “Get the fuck outta my house, away from my family. Next time you come sniffing around,” he bends down, “I will end you.”

  I watch as Tylan stands, turning towards me. His face is unreadable as he passes me, and right when I think he’s going to continue alone, his hand shoots out, grabbing at my arm and taking me with him. He literally pulls me down the hall as I stumble to follow. Savannah, now on her cell, probably calling Sin, eyes us as we pass her. When I look back, I see Cruise shooting daggers at our retreating forms. A sudden yank on my hand has me turning back towards where I’m heading.

  “Get in,” Tylan commands as he shoves me into the hall bathroom. My body jerks as the door slams behind him.

  Turning around, I can see the emotions flooding his face. His lips are a tight, thin line as he stares down at me. “Wh–” I stammer, trying to get my own emotions and racing heart in check. “What are you doing?”

  His eyes scan my face before grabbing the same wrist that Cruise had in his grasp. My wrist is red, and I can see the splotches of blood his grip brought to the surface of my skin. “Motherfucker, goddamn fucking cocksucker.” He feels up my arm, then searches my other arm.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Where else?”

  “Where else?” I’m confused.

  “Where else did he fucking touch you?”

  I let my head fall back and blow out a long breath. “Here,” I say as I pull the waistband of my shorts and show him the scratch.

  His eyes flare with additional anger, and he squats in front of me and inspects my injury. “He’s never to touch you again.” He lightly rubs the pad of his thumb over my skin, and I feel the touch of warm, soft lips against the skin of my hip.

  “Never again,” he whispers against my flesh, making my skin pebble.

  I watch in awe as he gently places the band of my shorts back in place before working his way up my body. His hands start low as they softly glide over my bare legs, up over my cotton shorts. The slight to
uch of his pinkies as he continues his way up, reaching his full height. He leans into me, searching my face.

  Swallowing back the emotion, I will my voice to come. “I’m okay, Lick.”

  His eyes dilate, turning his unusual brown hues into melted chocolate. He gently pulls a stray curl between his fingers before placing it securely behind my ear. I watch as his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. Tearing my eyes from his lips, my breath hitches when I’m met with the look of lust floating in his eyes. With sudden movement, he crashes his lips to mine. I tense at the action, but once the feel of his tongue sweeps along the seam of my lips, every worry dissolves as I melt into his touch.

  Heaven.

  The way her lips feel against mine is incomprehensible. Her taste, the feel of her tongue as she meshes with mine. Fucking perfect.

  A moan from her lips has me grabbing at her, pulling her closer to me. When she yelps, I instantly step back. My eyes fall to where my hand is, and noticed it’s where that fucker scratched her.

  “Sorry…”

  The rise and fall of her chest tell me that she’s just as affected by me as I am her. “Hey.” She reaches up and places the palm of her hand against my face. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

  “I’d never,” I assure her.

  “I know.” She smiles.

  All I want to do is fucking kiss her constantly, every day for the rest of my life. “It’s another first,” I tell her. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.” Fuck me, I sound like such a fucking pansy ass. “Never felt the need to.” I pick her up and place her on the counter of the vanity. Grabbing her by the legs, I pull her closer towards me. “But I was wrong. It should’ve been about wanting…”

  Her eyes flare with curiosity. She bites her lip, and my cock hardens more. Fuck me. If this woman keeps looking at me with those pure fucking eyes and her untainted spirit, I’m gonna be jerking my meat morning, noon and fucking night. Ain’t no other woman gonna be able to satisfy me now.

  She brings her hands to my face and runs her nails over my beard, tugging my face to hers. “How about a little more want?” Her lips gently brush against mine. The tenderness of it all is something that I never thought I wanted, but now I know I’ll spend the rest of my life craving her taste.