by Joanna Wylde
“You throw yourself right in, don’t you?” he asked, and I smiled, puzzled. “You’re picking up, helpin’ the girls. I even saw you talkin’ to Painter despite the fact that he’s been sort of an asshole to you. You like takin’ care of people, don’t you?”
I rolled my eyes, feeling all smug.
“I’m just being polite,” I said. “Who sits around at a party ignoring a mess like this? I’ve had fun hanging out with the other women, too—they seem like a good group. They’re really friendly, and they’ve told me all sorts of interesting things about you.”
“Really?” he asked, smirking. “Why don’t you fill me in.”
With that he drew me away from the table, catching my hand and leading me past the bonfire toward the same corner of the courtyard where I’d talked to Painter earlier. The giant tree sheltered everything, and behind the massive trunk you couldn’t really see the rest of the party. It formed something like an outdoor room back here, with the corner of the courtyard wall ensuring privacy.
Reese grinned at me, then sat down and leaned back against the trunk. I tried to sit next to him, but he caught my leg and tugged it over his waist. I fell off balance and then I was straddling him, hands braced against his shoulders. His own hands caught my waist, pulling my pelvis down and into his.
Oh, very nice … Like always, being near him filled me with tension and longing, a feeling I knew was mutual because his penis was getting harder and harder. It pushed up at me through our jeans, and I couldn’t help myself. I just had to wiggle around just a little.
Reese groaned, then his fingers dug into my ass hard, dragging me up and down along his length.
“Christ, feels like forever since I’ve touched you. Been stuck yap-pin’, instead of hanging out with my girl.”
“I was a little upset with you earlier,” I admitted. He leaned forward and started sucking on my neck. Not hard enough to make a mark, just enough to heat me up and start driving me crazy. The space between my legs was hot and empty. I wanted him up inside, filling me, stretching me … We’d been together enough now that I knew it would be good, but not so much that the mystery was gone. This position, for example. I realized that I’d never been on top with him before.
So much potential.
I caught my hands in his hair and jerked his head back, then kissed him hard, reversing our usual roles. My tongue plunged deep and he reached between us, unhooking the button on the front of my pants. Then his hands slid down my ass, under my jeans and underwear, cupping me hard as our mouths fought with each other.
Finally I pulled back, out of breath, panting. I felt how much he wanted me—his dick was harder than a rock, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. Like a pillar of granite. I wanted to taste it … Yes, I definitely needed to taste him now that I’d finally gotten him alone, because who knew how long it would be before someone found him and needed something? Knowing my luck they’d spot us any minute.
Well, if they did, they’d get a show because I was tired of waiting.
What? Sheesh, how much have I had to drink? That isn’t me.
But why couldn’t it be me? I’d been stuck doing the right thing, being a good girl, my whole damned life. Fuck that.
“So you still pissed?” he asked.
“What?”
“You still pissed at me?” he asked again. “Right before you kissed me, you said that I’d upset you. What’s the problem?”
My head shook, and I smiled at him, feeling dazed.
“You told me to come out here and then you weren’t around,” I told him. “At first it bothered me, because I felt like you abandoned me. But it kind of worked out. I had to reach out and introduce myself. I don’t think I would’ve met nearly so many people if I’d been with you. I like your friends—at least, I like the women. The ones wearing the property patches. I didn’t really talk to the others.”
He smirked.
“Probably just as well,” he said. “You probably wouldn’t like the stories they have to tell nearly as much. Biker groupies and club whores. Nice girls, a lot of them, but they aren’t part of the community the same way the old ladies are.”
I frowned.
“You seemed pretty comfortable with that Sharon chick. I thought she was part of the community. Now you tell me she isn’t?”
“It’s complicated. Sharon’s a good kid,” he said, hands kneading my ass in a slow rhythm that nearly made my heart stop. I struggled against the lust, trying to turn off my brain and listen to him. “But she’s still a club whore.”
“You told me she wasn’t a prostitute.”
“It’s just a term,” he said, shrugging. “She isn’t getting paid or anything. Just means she likes to hang around, and in exchange she’ll sleep with whoever wants her. She’s under our protection.”
He slipped a hand around to the front of my body, then reached down and found my clit with his fingertip.
“You really wanna talk about Sharon right now?”
I shuddered, and shook my head, burying my face in his shoulder as he started working my clit harder. My hips twisted over his, grinding his cock down hard as the tension built inside me.
“Ladies first,” he whispered, then used the hand still on my ass to lift me just enough for him to shove three fingers down deep inside. Holy crap. I don’t know how he pulled it off logistically and I didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he filled me up and ground down on my clit at the same time. My heart was beating too fast and I felt dizzy with need and desire and pleasure that wound so tight I thought I might explode.
Oh, God … please explode!
Then it hit, and I bit his shoulder so I wouldn’t scream, waves of ecstasy shattering me. My body went limp over his, and he pulled the hand that’d tortured me free. Then it was at my mouth, pushing inside until I tasted myself all over him as he gripped my jaw in a soft but firm hold.
“You ready to suck my cock?”
I nodded so fast it made me dizzy. Then he let me go and I slithered down his body, ripping at his jeans and pulling his belt free. He lifted his hips to help me, his erection springing free to slap up against his belly. I’d seen it before, of course, but never up quite this close and personal. We hadn’t had a normal courtship, and I realized with a shock that we’d only had sex three times, total. Wow. Felt like so much more than that.
A little frisson of excitement raced up my spine—there was so much more about him I couldn’t wait to learn. I giggled, giddy, and he grinned down at me, wrapping his fingers tight into my hair.
“I feel like a kid when I’m with you.”
“I do, too,” I whispered back at him. “It’s fun.”
“Yeah, it is. Why don’t you suck me off like we’re in the backseat of a car and you’ve got ten minutes ’til curfew,” he said, winking.
I leaned down and licked his full length, root to head, in answer. He groaned and dropped his head back against the tree. My tongue wound around his cockhead, tracing the smooth ridge dividing the head from the shaft. Then I found the little notch on the bottom and pointed my tongue, wiggling across it.
Reese groaned again, shifting his hips as his hands clutched my hair. He tugged at my head and I knew what he wanted.
Not yet. I wasn’t done playing.
I sucked and nipped my way down the shaft, letting my teeth brush him just enough to let him know they were on the job, so he’d better behave. I’d always loved giving head. I don’t know why … Maybe the power of it, the way a man will do almost anything if you offer to touch his dick with your mouth? I found his balls and reached up to catch them in my hand, squeezing them gently before sucking one into my mouth.
Oh, he definitely liked that.
I pulled my head away and looked up at him through my lashes, letting my tongue slide along my lower lip.
“You ready for it?”
He nodded, something close to desperation in his eyes. His thigh muscles were rock hard under my hands, and while he might look relaxed agai
nst the tree, I knew that was a lie. If I pulled away right now, he’d probably stroke out. Fortunately, I’m a benevolent kind of woman, so I opened my mouth wide and sucked in his cockhead like a Popsicle.
Bobbing up and down, I took him a little deeper each time. He hands came up to clutch my head, fingers tightening in my hair with restrained power. He could force me if he wanted to. Just shove me down over his erection, slamming it into my throat.
The hint of danger turned me on and I felt myself getting wet again between the legs.
By the fourth or fifth stroke I’d gone as deep as I could without gagging, which thankfully seemed to be plenty good for him. He grunted and groaned as I sucked him hard, bringing my hands up to catch and squeeze the lower part of his shaft with every stroke of my mouth.
Then he started swelling in my mouth, and I realized he must be getting close. His length twitched and he gave me a little tap on the side of the head, a warning to pull away. A real gentleman. But I wasn’t feeling ladylike, not at all. I sucked him down harder, and when his shaft throbbed and he started spurting I swallowed hard as he groaned and shuddered.
Finally I pulled away, catching the edge of his shirt to wipe my mouth. My lips felt sore, almost bruised, and when I spoke my voice rasped.
“I’m not an experienced club whore, but I hope that was okay with you?”
He stared down at me, blinking, then gave me that sexy smile of his again.
“Fuckin’ amateurs compared to you, babe. You got a real talent for that,” he muttered. “Shit, how long since you had sex again? Six years? That include givin’ head?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Six long years,” I said. “But I think my dry spell is over. I want to brush my teeth, though. You got a toothbrush around here? Or is that too much to ask?”
He laughed, then dragged me up his body, holding me close.
“If we don’t, I’ll send a prospect to the store to buy you one,” he muttered. “Fuck, babe. You can have whatever you want.”
I squeezed him tight, because I already had what I wanted.
Him.
This.
Us.
Unfortunately, fantasies are for children and I was a grown woman. I should’ve known it wouldn’t last.
REESE
I lay in the darkness on my office couch, eyes closed, mind drifting.
London was passed out on top of me, her soft curves molding against me. She gave a tiny, ladylike snore. Adorable. I let my hand slide down to her ass, cupping it as I considered all I had to get done in the next twelve hours.
Big meeting today. Big decisions, and I had a feeling that within the next couple of weeks we’d start to see the bodies pile up. There’d been more drama in the south, more cartel bullshit. My daughter’s old man was in it up to his ass.
I had mixed feelings about that situation.
On the one hand, I wanted Hunter dead for all he’d done to Em, not least of which was stealing her from me and knocking her up. On the other, the last thing I needed was some cartel fuckwad pulling the trigger on him. If anyone put that bastard in the ground, it would be me.
Yeah, right.
Like I’d do that to my little girl. Or her baby. Shit. Couldn’t quite wrap my head around that—my little girl was gonna be a mom. She didn’t seem old enough, although I’d been several years younger than she was right now when I planted Emmy in Heather.
God help Hunter if he treated her wrong. He’d be on his knees praying for death before I ended him.
London stirred against me, the perfect distraction. Couldn’t wrap my head around her, either. I still couldn’t believe how much fun she was. Her house exploding had turned into something of a bonus, at least in terms of keeping her in my bed. Not like I was happy about her losin’ everything, but I was more than willing to take advantage of it, given the opportunity.
She’d talked to her insurance agent Thursday, mentioned moving out into an apartment. Wasn’t gonna happen—at least not any time soon. I liked her way too much. Sure, having Mellie around was a pain in the ass, but kids always were. She’d move out by the end of summer anyway. Planned to start college, and I knew she’d signed up for housing. All good there.
Now my brothers? They weren’t too sure about me and London. They liked her plenty, but they also knew I was a player and they didn’t want me fucking up the cleaning contracts.
Fuck ’em. What’s the point of being president if you can’t pull rank every once in a while?
Someone knocked at the door and I glanced at the clock. Almost nine in the morning, though you’d never know it seein’ as the office didn’t have a window.
“You in there, prez?” Bolt asked.
“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice low. London stirred, then slumped back down into sleep.
“Girls got breakfast going,” he said. “Shade says he wants to start church before ten. We got a lot to get through.”
“’Kay,” I muttered. I shook London, who grumbled and muttered at me to go away. Biting back a smile, I rolled her to the side, sliding her off my body and down into the fabric of the couch. Her butt stuck up in the air and her hair covered her face. She gave another little snore.
I stood and stretched, reaching for the little light on my desk. I found it and flicked it on, sending a soft green glow through the room from the banker’s shade covering the bulb.
You have fun last night? Heather asked.
I glared at her picture on the file cabinet.
Yeah. You got a problem with that?
She laughed, and I imagined her shaking her head.
I told you to be happy, baby, she seemed to whisper. I like this one. She makes you smile and she pitches in. The girls like her. I know you don’t want another old lady, but maybe you need to pull your head out of your ass.
Fuck that. Happenin’ too fast. London grunted and rolled onto her back, making a smacking noise with her mouth. It wasn’t the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, but the sight of her tits flattening out across her chest was right up there. She’d seemed too sweet, too soft when I met her. She’d never survive in the club, I’d known it in my bones.
Then she’d sucked my cock like a pro in the courtyard, and the fact that any one of a hundred people could’ve walked up on us at any moment didn’t seem to bother her at all. Earlier, when I’d gotten stuck talking to my national president and left her hangin’ for hours with a crowd of strangers, London did great on her own. The woman wasn’t a coward.
Not only that, she brought food to the party and she wasn’t scared to stand up to Painter. She pitched in to keep things tidy, made sure everyone had enough to eat. Hell, she didn’t even freak out when her house exploded, which would’ve been totally fair, even in my book.
Old lady material.
You don’t want her, maybe you should pass her along to a man who does? Heather suggested, her voice sly. Don’t waste a good old lady—bring her into the club. Doesn’t have to be you claiming her. We need women like this one … Bolt’s lonely as hell these days.
“Bolt touches her, I’m shootin’ him.”
London stirred, then opened her eyes.
“Did you say something?” she whispered. I shook my head.
“Must’ve been someone in the hallway,” I grunted.
“You mind if I sleep some more?”
“Not at all,” I told her. “You rest. I think later on the girls are goin’ out, getting their toes done or some such shit. You should go with them.”
London’s eyes were already closed again.
I gave Heather the finger and slipped out the door.
“It’s time,” Hunter declared, looking around the big game room on the second floor of the Armory. We had men from three clubs here—nowhere near enough room in the chapel for all of us. “We’ve been playing defense against the cartel for too long. The Jacks are standing strong, but we don’t have the manpower to hold out much longer. We’re already losing territory. They’re gettin’ more powerful an
d soon they won’t be satisfied with anything less than open war. We think it’s better to attack them before they come after us with full strength, but we can’t do it alone. We need the Reapers and the Silver Bastards to join us, along with your support clubs. This may be our last chance to stop them.”
I sat back in my chair, wishing I didn’t dislike Hunter quite so much. Hard to listen to him making such sense and reconcile my respect for his opinions with him fuckin’ my baby girl and putting a baby in her. Shade, the Reapers’ national president, gave Hunter a respectful nod. The younger man sat back down, making way for Boonie—the president of the Silver Bastards—to speak.
“I agree,” Boonie said, surprising me. The Bastards had the most to lose in a war at this point. They were smaller than us, and so far as I knew, the cartel wasn’t directly interfering with their operations in the Silver Valley, which meant they were only here out of loyalty to the Reapers. I knew Boonie would lay down his life to save any one of us, but there’s a big difference between standing by a brother and following him into war. “The Jacks can’t hold—no offense meant by that, it’s just numbers. And when they fall, the Reapers will fall and then it’ll be too late for the Bastards. If we’re going down, I want to do it with my gun in my hand while there’s still a chance we can win.”
“So we agree?” Shade asked, looking around the room. “I know there are details to be worked out, but if I’m hearing right, all three clubs are on board with an offensive?”
I raised a hand, and Shade gave me a nod. I stood.
“I’m not sayin’ we shouldn’t go after the cartel,” I started. “But I think we need to be damned careful how we plan it, because even with the support clubs behind us, we just don’t have their firepower. Straight-up confrontation won’t work. This needs to be a smart attack, take out their head and then smack them down before a new one pops up. That should buy us some space, at least for a few years. I don’t think anyone here is naive enough to think we can destroy them completely.”
“Wouldn’t matter if we did,” said Duck, the oldest man present. He’d been through Vietnam and had watched more than one MC president rise and fall. Normally only officers spoke at a meet like this, but Duck had earned the right ten times over. “You take out one, another one comes. But we can defend our territory and make a difference if we hit it right. Just remember this—they’ve probably got the CIA behind them. Not that I have any proof, but there’s plenty of evidence the feds have fingers in the drug trade. Goes all the way back to ’Nam. But those spooks aren’t loyal, which means if we weaken the cartel enough, they’ll pull out their backing and it’ll fall apart. Could buy us years of peace. Maybe more if we strike a truce with whoever comes along next.”
