Outlaw's Kiss

by Nicole Snow

  I'd never seen his eyes so bright and mischievous. If it wasn't for the fact Jackie almost stumbled in on us fucking, I would've loved it.

  My hands beat his grizzly bear tattoos and I tried to wriggle away. Brass laughed, pulling me closer, pressing his lips to mine.

  The shower hissed and filled the bathroom with steam while we kissed. One fast, furious taste and I knew I was in too deep...all the horror and disgust in the world couldn't have stopped my pussy from tingling as he worked his tongue against mine.

  Holy shit. So much for shame.

  “What are you doing?” I shook my head, breaking the kiss. I shouldn't have bothered asking, because one more squeeze of my ass told me.

  “What does it look like? Cleaning up and fucking your brains out before we eat breakfast,” Brass said, bringing one hand to my breast, tweaking my bright pink nipple.

  I shuddered. My body was completely shameless, and it was quickly overpowering my head.

  Oh, shit! This can't be seriously happening, can it?

  He looked down at my panties wadded up near my feet.

  “I'll stuff those in your mouth if you're worried about sis hearing more than she needs to over the shower, but it's plenty loud with this shit going. Come on.”

  He brushed the curtain aside and stepped in, pulling me with him. His hands worked fast, picking up where they'd left off, plumping one breast while the other slid between my thighs. He found my clit and worked his fingers, tender trending rough, strokes so filled with need I couldn't have dreamed about saying no.

  “Just so you know, this is the last time we're fucking all secret squirrel, babe. Next time, I'm gonna drag your pretty ass somewhere we can fuck good and proper. I wanna hear everything that comes outta your mouth when you come on my cock.”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing would come out. I barely stopped the moan building in my throat in time, knees shaking, folding my palms tight against the wall. It felt so good having his fingers moving through my folds, swirling against my clit, all while the steady hum of hot water beat against our backs.

  My head started to roll back and forth, struggling to hold it all in. Brass slowed the circles around my clit, holding me in suspense. Bastard tease!

  Just as I tried to turn, he grabbed my wrists and held me tight, throwing my palms back to the wall.

  “Don't. That was just a warm up. No fucking way are you coming on my hands and mouth twice in one morning, Missy. This dick's not halfway done with its workout.”

  I heard something crinkle up and fall to the floor. He'd snuck a condom out of his pants sometime when I was lost in pure bliss on his fingers. Heat bloomed in my womb and shot up my spine when he rubbed against my ass, hard and sheathed, ready to fuck like never before.

  His hand slipped away and found its way over my mouth. I could smell my own scent on him, a wetness against my lips thicker than water.

  “Bite this shit when you need to. Taste your cream on my fingers. It's hot as fuck that I did this to you, babe, and now I'm gonna do a whole lot more.”

  He pushed inside me, and my knees went full jackhammer. His cock slid up more easily this time, probably because I'd never been so wet in my entire life. I sucked my bottom lip and chewed, resisting the urge to bite his hand like he'd invited me to.

  I'd need to save that for later. But not much longer – when he started to thrust, I knew I wasn't going to last long.

  Fresh lava swelled inside my head, bathing me in creeping pleasure, like someone kindled a fire near my brain stem. My ass lifted up and fell against him, rocking to meet his thrusts, following his lead as he picked up speed.

  My lips formed an O against his skin. Brass pounded deeper, harder, faster. My back arched and the firestorm in my belly pinched everything tighter, a vortex that wouldn't let go until every muscle in my body turned to stone.

  His hand clamped over my mouth a second before I screamed, pushing it back inside me. The suffocating fire ripping through me made me lose my mind. I couldn't think about the pain or serving the club or what Jackie would think anymore.

  All I could think about was how fucking good his dick felt buried in me, swelling as he let go and joined me in ecstasy.

  “Fuck! Fuck! Don't. Fucking. Stop.” His last words gurgled out before he let go, filling the condom deep inside me, making shallower strokes with his throbbing cock, losing his load.

  He fucked right through my pleasure. His balls pulsed against my pussy, hurling seed, stretching our pleasure to its rabid breaking point.

  I sweated, clawed, and rasped into his hand all through my climax.

  When it finally let up, I slumped down, wriggling my ass against him to milk the last energy out of him. His big chest rose and fell in waves. He cursed as he pulled out, drawing off the condom and shoving aside the shower curtain to toss it toward the waste bin.

  I heard it hit the trash next to the toilet. Perfect shot.

  “Fuck, baby girl. I'm never gonna get tired of this. I wanna keep fucking you 'til I can't even think. You understand?” He held one hand around my waist and slowly turned me around.

  My lips trembled. “Yeah. I think I do.”

  “Think? Shit, that means I've still got work to do. By the end of the week, I promise I'm gonna find some way to get us both outta this shit for good. I'm done letting anything come between me and this pussy.”

  I cocked my head, stepping into his warm embrace, listening to the steady slap of the water on our skin. The steamy cloud filling the bathroom was like a second embrace layered over us, a welcome dreamy haze in the post-orgasmic bliss.

  “You really think your club's going to trust us? Let me off the hook that fast?”

  His face darkened. He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine.

  “No.” Brass paused, as if he was mulling his words. “I've been wrong about most of my brothers for so long. Everybody except Rabid, Blackjack, maybe a couple other guys...they're all fucked. Fucked up and sick. And it's only gonna get worse.”

  I shook my head, trying to understand. What was he saying?

  “Babe, I'm gonna take you somewhere far away. You and Jackie both. Somewhere you can be safe and live your lives without worrying about a buncha assholes pushing the knife into your throats.”

  I shuddered. The crude imagery wasn't just an exaggeration. Then I thought about his words, reading between the lines. My heart skipped a beat when I saw it laid out in front of me.

  Holy shit.

  “You mean you're going to –“

  “Leave? Yeah. If that's what it takes to protect you, so be it. We'll head north, all the way through Oregon and Washington. Maybe find some place way up near Canada where nobody's gotta worry about MCs or cartels tearing each other to bloody pieces.”

  “Brass...” My voice hitched. I started to slide down, but he caught me, laying my cheek on his chest.

  “Shhh,” he whispered, running his fingers softly through my wet hair. “All we gotta do's go through the motions 'til I figure shit out. One week. That's all it's gonna take to get shit in order and go. I just need to work the logistics and tell a couple guys I can trust what's up. I can't come right away, though. Got some unfinished business with the club, and if I take off permanently, I'd like to leave on good terms.”

  “Won't they make things worse for all of us when they find out what you're planning?”

  “I don't give a shit,” he growled. “You're my old lady and I can do whatever the fuck I want with you. If nobody understands that – if I don't have a single fucking brother sticking up for me – then I'll know everything my club represents is a goddamned sham.”

  He turned, holding my hand, twisting the shower faucet until the steady warm rain stopped. I pulled away, folding my arms over my breasts in the steam, wiping my eyes.

  His arm swept the shower curtain aside. He looked at our clothes strewn over the floor, his gaze zeroing in on his cut. I watched his magnificent hard ass as he stepped out, pulling his cut off the groun
d and letting it fall open in his hands.

  “I gave my life and cost some other people theirs trying to do right by this patch.” A sad tone darkened his voice. “Maybe one day, I'll be able to. Maybe after the cartel's done thinning out the trash. But not while this club's controlled by a buncha greedy fucking maniacs who think it's okay to kill, rape, and burn the whole world for no good reason.”

  The leather vest dropped and hit the floor. He turned toward me, naked in the steam, eyes shining brighter than I'd ever seen them.

  “Don't worry. I'm not going back on anything I said while I was wearing these colors, proud and stupid. I'm still a full patch member in the Grizzlies MC. I vote, I fight for the honest brothers, and everything I've said and done since wearing this patch belongs to me.” He stepped forward, helping me over the tub's edge to the tile floor. “You're my old lady, babe, come heaven or hell. I don't need any fucking club behind me to back that up. Long as you're willing to have me, I'm gonna have you...every way that's beautiful and dirty and fucking sweet. You and me, Missy. Just us against the whole fucking world, if that's the way it's gotta be.”

  He took my hand. In the last two hours, everything went crazy. The man I'd thought about killing was staring at me like I was an angel. If it wasn't for the warmth filling my heart, the guilt there would've caused it to sink like a lead weight.

  I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and mustered my most serious stare. “I'm ready, Brass. I want you to set things right...and I'm ready to run away if it means we can finally be together, start over, keep my sister safe...”

  He tugged me closer, one strong arm around me, pushing a sturdy finger to my lips. “Stop. There's no fucking ifs in what we're gonna do. You, girl, are coming with me no matter what's up ahead. You're mine, dammit, and once I lay claim, I don't let go. Not for the club. Not for the cartel. Not for my own fucking mistakes. Not even for the awesome fucking French toast I'm gonna make when we get outta here.”

  It took me a minute to figure out that last part. Then I remembered Jackie was still outside in the living room, waiting for us and the breakfast he'd promised. Smiling like an idiot, I punched him in the side.

  “Jerk. We'll judge how awesome this stuff's going to be.”

  He grinned. “Dry your hair and get dressed. You'll find out.”

  We were stuffed around the little breakfast table about thirty minutes later. The entire apartment smelled like warm bread, cinnamon, and syrup, sweet as it was comforting.

  Jackie dove into hers with a teenager's appetite, eyeing the big stack of breakfast on the serving plate. He served up eggs to go with the toast and a pitcher of coffee. It looked as good as it smelled.

  Brass didn't touch his food. He sat across from me, his Grizzlies MC t-shirt clinging to his chest, waiting for me to have a bite.

  I dipped my toast in syrup and brought it to my lips. One crunch, and I was in pure heaven. I think I moaned – dangerously close to the sound I'd made in the shower, when he pushed me over the edge.

  “Fuck yeah,” he said, reaching for his own bread. “Told you it was good.”

  Jackie looked at us both, covering her mouth. I rolled my eyes when I finally came out of my sugary high. Whatever, she had every reason to giggle, and it was good to hear her laugh versus all the alternatives weighing on us the last few weeks.

  Soon, we'd be heading out for the day while my Christa showed up for lessons. I'd be stuck cleaning up more of the mess from the night before, hoping to god that freak with the barbed wire on his face kept his distance.

  One more week. I told myself I could do it. With a few more mornings like this, maybe I could. And maybe – just maybe – being his old lady wasn't half bad.

  VI: Escape Plan (Brass)

  Fuck. I did it. I really made up my mind, ready to leave behind everything I'd given my life to since I turned eighteen. Ready to turn on the brotherhood that was never anything but a fucking illusion.

  Sitting at the table for church the next day was surreal.

  Fang came in and took his seat at the head, red as molten steel. When Crack snuck in behind him, moving like an animal with its tail between its legs, I knew he'd broken the news about the cartel hit in SoCal.

  The room was stuffy, tense with brothers waiting to hear the Prez go off like fucking dynamite. Instead, he picked up the petrified bear claw, raking its nails just right on the table. Sounded like some asshole teacher scratching chalkboard.

  Guys covered their ears and groaned, including me. We only stopped when he slammed the thing so hard on the wood I thought the whole table was gonna go up in splinters.

  “All right, you bastards, listen up! Hope you all enjoyed Lipstick Night, 'cause it's gonna be the last time you fuckers got enough free time to get your cocks sucked for a good long while. Half this room was holding out on me about San Diego. You motherfuckers must think I'm stupid or incompetent. Which is it?”

  His hard eyes shot to Crack, then Blackjack next to him, slowly moving down the ranks of brothers. When they landed on me, Fang blinked, peeling his lips back in an angry snarl. It was the same ferocious smile I'd seen before I crashed out on the floor, and I remembered those two scared whores with him.

  “Well? Clearly, I've lost your fucking faith, or I'd be getting my intel without assholes sealing their lips.”

  “Fang...” Crack folded his hands and leaned toward him, but froze the instant the Prez shot him the evilest eye I'd ever seen.

  “Shut the fuck up. Both you assholes.” Fang's head snapped back to Blackjack. “I'm gonna give you one chance to call a no confidence vote for President. Everybody in this room's gonna have their say. If I walk outta here still holding the claw, then I expect to have everything flowing to me the instant it happens. And I mean abso-fucking-lutely everything – even if it makes me want to tear this place upside down. This club is dysfunctional – fucked – when the head doesn't know the fucking tail's on fire.”

  Nobody moved. Fang had been the national Prez since...fuck, I didn't even know. Decades.

  I wasn't sure what to think. The pale, flat expression on Rabid's face next to me said my brother was just as confused as me. This shit was unprecedented, and now we were gonna see if anybody had the balls to threaten removal the safe and easy way, or if this was some kinda fucking trick.

  “Prez, in the interests of full disclosure, I think everybody ought to know about Tacoma –“ Blackjack started to speak, but Fang cut him off with another table rocking slam of the bear claw.

  “They don't need to know shit 'til they decide if I'm gonna lead, or if some other cocksucker wants to sit on this mountain of shit. Come on, asshole. Be a man.” His eyes were dark, intense, drilling into our old Enforcer's.

  Finally, Blackjack stood up, his gray hair flopping on his shoulders. “Fine. All right, everybody, we're gonna take a vote on No Confidence for the sitting Prez of the Sacramento charter and acting Prez of Redding. If Fang's deemed to have lost our faith, then we'll have to elect a new man to head the club. Not just our charter, but for the entire Grizzlies MC in the whole twelve state area.”

  Fang rolled his eyes. “Fucking get on with it. Here, Sarge.”

  The Prez sneered as he passed the bear claw to Blackjack. As Enforcer, it was his job to carry out a vote like this.

  My brain was on fucking fire. I couldn't decide if this was a blessing or one helluva curse. If Fang was removed – and that was one big fat if – the club would be in so much chaos it'd be a cakewalk moving Missy and her sis north. Shit, even I could slip away in the craziness if I wanted to, assuming the cartel didn't crash the power struggle and burn us all alive.

  Blackjack gripped the bear claw. He looked us up and down, letting his eyes linger on Rabid and I.

  “Let's do it, brothers. Starting at the head of the table. Every man here gets a vote except the Prez, an aye or a nay. I'll keep count. Crack?”

  The VP was the first man up. Thirty pairs of eyes turned toward him. Fuck, the first few votes were bound to
set the precedent.

  The only way Fang was gonna be removed was if anybody had the balls to effectively spit in his face. And I wasn't sure anybody here had the balls. Dammit. If only the charter allowed these kinda fucking votes to go by secret ballot instead.

  My heart stopped. I forgot to breathe. For a second, I thought he was really gonna do it, thought Crack was gonna vote aye for his own selfish ass reasons.

  “Nay,” the VP choked out.

  Adrenaline flooded my head. Rabid let out a little hissing sound, and several brothers next to us looked down, shuffling their boots underneath the long table.

  Blackjack moved down the line, cold and efficient, no emotion showing on his face. Nay, nay, nay.

  Three more votes to keep Fang. Then six. Then five.

  “Nay.” Rabid's hoarse, quick vote echoed loud in my ears, like the sound of my own blood running out after getting stabbed.

  Fuck. It was my turn, and Blackjack was looking right at me. I didn't have to count everybody else on my right to know they'd all have to vote aye to even make this fucking thing a tie.

  I clenched my teeth and waited too many seconds before I let it out. “Aye.”

  Several brothers cleared their throats loudly. I caught Fang's eyes before he caught mine, holding as firm as I could without shaking, looking right into his devilish eyes.

  He'd saved me from being burned alive with the other rebel Grizzlies one fucked up night in Montana. But, fuck, he wasn't good for the club. There were no excuses. We were losing the cartel war, and he was letting desperation eat us alive, turn us into demons no better than the Mexicans.

  I had to be honest. The Grizzlies patch on my back felt like lead, and the one on my chest itched something terrible. There was no understanding in the Prez's eyes – not even when the asshole next to me voted nay, followed by Serial and Splitter too.

  I tried to do right by the club – the same thing everybody wearing the bear on their cuts was supposed to be about.

  Idealistic? Stupid? Probably.

  Right? Fuck yes.

  It was over long before it swung back around the U-shaped gathering, toward Blackjack. I was the only aye. I seriously wondered if I'd make it outta the room alive when the claw returned to Fang.