Savage Saints MC: MC Romance Collection

by Hazel Parker

His hands went to my jeans and tugged the belt off. His fingers then wrapped to the inside, getting my underwear and my jeans in one fell swoop. When he had them off, the rush of air across my naked body made me shiver.

  No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t the fresh air, though it certainly felt chilly. It was being naked before Jack; I couldn’t ever remember moving so quickly with someone, and yet at the same time feeling so comfortable this early with sex. We may have only had one date, but I knew in my heart that Jack wasn’t going anywhere after this.

  He ran his hands on the curve separating my ass from my thighs and lifted me up, then lowered himself down to my wet sex. He kissed me there, sending my head tilting back and moaning with pleasure.

  “Jack…” I said, reaching down at the intensity of what he’d done.

  “Yeah?” he said innocently as if he had no idea what he’d just done. “Feel good?”

  “What do you think?” I said, desperate for him to get back to work. “Don’t stop!”

  Jack let out a miniature version of that boisterous laugh before burying his face down on me and taking me further and further up the ladder of sexual pleasure, orgasm already in sight.

  He had moved so fast and with such enthusiasm to go between my legs that I had forgotten how, in the past, most men just outright refused to go down on me or did so with dampened enthusiasm, as if they were doing me a huge favor. I had never had anyone who not only liked to eat pussy, but they loved to do so and did it before I even had a chance to see what their cock looked like.

  Suffice to say, that was playing a major role in how good I felt right then. The enthusiasm and proper aggression went a long way to making sure my drive to climax, already going at a pretty good clip, was going even faster. I’d thought that the library was going to be the best part of the evening, but I was very clearly wrong—this, right here, was the best part of the night.

  “Oh, Jack…”

  I said more, but it wasn’t really English. It was the muttering, groans, and garbled words that were influenced by an orgasm that now seemed inevitable. In some ways, it was almost coming too fast; I didn’t want me to finish so soon. I knew I had the luxury of being able to have multiple orgasms, but I wasn’t like some girls who could roll from one into the other. Unfortunately, my body required me to have some downtime before the next one.

  Not that that was going to stop me from having an orgasm right now. I’d have to be a damn fool to say no to that right now.

  “Oh, Jack.”

  My fingers ran through his hair as I tried to get a glimpse of his eyes. The tension within me was increasing by the second, and though I could hold it off for a little bit, it wasn’t going to be that much longer before I’d have no choice but to experience release. I just wanted a look at those handsome eyes just one—

  There it was.

  God, he was so fucking hot.

  “Oh my God, it’s right there, yes, yes, yes…”

  And with what felt like a bolt of lightning coursing through my body, the orgasm erupted from my sex. I clamped my legs tightly around Jack, squeezing and pulsing in sync with my orgasm. My whole body shook and quivered. My mind raced, unable to think of anything, flooded by the pleasure rushing through my body.

  I just knew I wanted Jack. I needed him. I had to have him. This was not going to be our last time.

  This was, in fact, not even going to be the last time this evening.

  Holy fuck.

  “My God,” I said after I pushed him away, giving me a second to recover. “You were right. That was better than anything I have ever written.”

  Jack gave a shortened version of his laugh. I rolled over for a few seconds, trying to catch my breath. My entire body felt like it had just experienced the greatest massage of my life. I both wanted him inside of me, and I wanted to just pass out on the bed, not waking up ever.

  Eventually, while the good tingling remained, my desire to return the favor and have Jack feel what I felt won out. I slowly rolled over, motioned him over, and started kissing him. I pushed him on his back and started trailing kisses down his stomach.

  “And what do you think you’re doing?” Jack said playfully.

  I eyed him in such a way that I think I might have gotten him to come just by looking at me. I was determined not to say anything until he had orgasmed, other than the uncontrolled moans and gasps for when he was inside of me. The eyes and the actions would speak for themselves.

  I didn’t let go of my gaze until I had him completely naked, and even then, I only briefly looked down at his cock before stroking it with my hands. I had to say; I knew that while there may not technically have been a correlation between a man’s size and the size of his dick, in this particular case, the girth and thickness that defined Jack’s body overall translated perfectly to his member.

  The one word that perfectly described it was “thick.” And when I put my mouth around it, I was in awe.

  Jack, of course, loved everything that I did. He muttered my name a few times, saying how he loved one thing more than the other, but for the most part, just as I had, he spoke mostly in incomprehensible gibberish. He seemed to have a real affinity for having his balls gently rubbed and his tip flicked with my tongue, but there wasn’t really anything I did that he seemed to dislike or not be aroused by. I was tempted to ask how long it had been since he’d had release, given how hard he was, but hey, it’s not like I needed a reason.

  And really, this had the added side effect of getting me back to the state where I could have another orgasm. Watching Jack have pleasure got me excited, and I could only hold out for so long before I had to have him.

  “Alright,” I said when I pulled away, giving him a few good strokes for good measure. “I need you inside of me or I’m going to go crazy.”

  “Don’t have to say that twice,” Jack said with a chuckle.

  He bent forward, grabbed his wallet, and pulled out a condom. In the interim, I kept stroking his cock, drawing some murmurs and eyes to the back of the head reactions from Jack. It took him a lot longer than normal to get his condom on, but in this particular case, I think he could be forgiven.

  When he finally did get it on, I straddled his hips, letting his thickness rub the outside of my sex.

  “Oh, yeah,” I murmured. “God, you’re so big.”

  Jack smiled and ran his hands up and down my body. I loved feeling his fingers exploring all of my curves and all of my skin. Everything about this moment was just absolutely fucking perfect.

  Finally, after a few seconds of torturing him—and, let’s be honest, myself—I put him in me.

  It was everything and more.

  Despite being an author, sometimes, there just weren’t words in the English language that properly conveyed what I was feeling. Deep connection, intimacy, exquisite pleasure—they were great, but they didn’t fully capture what I felt. The closest that I could come was the perfect straddle between overload and maximal pleasure.

  But mostly, the words failed me because Jack felt so good, it became impossible to describe. I figured I’d find the right words for it later when I had the chance to recover from what was already some of the best sex of my life. He was so thick and surprisingly supple, giving us multiple positions to work with.

  Somewhere around missionary, the perfect word hit me. Best. That was it. The best. The best sex? Yes. The best moment? Yes. The best pleasure? Yes.

  Time became a blur as I felt like I was falling into becoming one with Jack. Yeah, I was losing myself in the moment, and I knew it couldn’t always be this good, but goddamn if this wasn’t the perfect start to something special. I just kept kissing Jack, uttering his name, and trying to tighten my body in anticipation of the second orgasm.

  Said orgasm came when he had me from behind, his hands grabbing my hips tightly and his thick, hard cock thrusting deep into me. When I came, I had to grab a pillow to scream into. My entire body felt like jelly. To say I wanted to melt into the pillow was an understatement—I
wanted to dissolve into the pillow.

  The pleasure was so intense that I barely even noticed that Jack, too, was starting to approach the point of orgasm. By the time that I came out of my haze, he was already moaning in a higher-pitched voice, and his cock had seemed to swell to twice the size of before.

  “Yes, Lilly, yes!” he screamed.

  He let out a couple of halting gasps, and then, just like that, he was exploding into his condom, his guttural grunts as deep as I had ever heard them. I turned and looked at him, but his face was contorted into something that defied description—half pleasure, half overwhelmed, all orgasmic. I let him finish into me and rested my head on his pillow, relishing the couple of moments of stillness following the storm that was sex.

  “My God,” he said. “Damn, Lilly.”

  “You liked that?” I said with a giggle.

  “Uh, understatement!”

  He then pulled out, letting out some moans as he removed himself. He went to the bathroom, threw out the condom, relieved himself, washed his hands, and then came back and snuggled up on me. My body immediately felt at complete ease and comfort huddling up on him like so.

  “Oh, Jack…” I said.

  I had something more to say, but the words just eluded me. Strangely enough, I wasn’t as concerned with the exact words as I was with just being present with him. I didn’t need to say anything more; my actions from the prior twenty minutes or so had said everything.

  “Lilly…” he said. “Is that going to make one of your books?”

  I laughed. That was definitely not expected, but it somehow felt like the exact right joke to make at that moment.

  “Nah, my books are risqué, but they don’t usually involve sex like that,” I said. “And besides, even if they did, nothing could match what we just experienced. It was too personal and intimate to ever replicate on the page.”

  “I’ll say,” Jack said, kissing me on the cheek.

  I think he, too, had more to say, but we both decided that peaceful silence was just the best thing right now. Listening to the gentle breathing, being curled up with him, being naked but at ease…what more could I want?

  Nothing.

  There was nothing more I could want.

  I couldn’t tell you how long we remained silently like this, cuddling, but I could tell you it was long enough that I almost started to wonder if I’d start to nap and fall asleep on him. It wasn’t out of the question. It—

  His phone rang.

  “Sorry,” Jack said with a playful groan. “You know how it is! Right when the good things start, someone’s gotta call and disrupt things.”

  I couldn’t even begin to express how happy it made me that Jack was saying that post-coitus cuddles and chat were the “good things.” Obviously, the sex we’d had blown my mind, but for him to say that this was the good thing…well, I had a feeling I might be changing my mind about him being perfect.

  “Looks like it’s Marcel, my brother,” he said. “Should be quick, I promise.”

  “No, take it, take it; it’s fine.”

  He smiled and answered the phone.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Jack?”

  Though Jack had not put his brother on speakerphone, I could still hear the audio clearly without much other noise around me. Marcel sounded…scared. Nervous, even.

  “Marcel?” Jack said, suddenly sounding equally worried. “What’s going on?”

  A long pause came.

  “Something happened, Jack. Something really bad.”

  Chapter 11: Biggie

  The tone in Marcel’s voice was unlike anything I had ever heard before.

  He sounded shaken and beaten. He never, ever sounded this way, even when he had to go to jail and be away from his daughter for years. He was always the face of poise and the sound of tranquility and steadiness.

  But as I heard him breathing on the phone, I heard a man that had seen or suffered through something unimaginable. “Something bad” didn’t even begin to describe what I suspected he was feeling.

  I stood, naked, from the bed and went into the living room. I didn’t want Lilly to have to hear whatever it was that was going on. I knew it was something with the club, and that only further reinforced my desire to keep her away from the madness. She only knew the good parts of the Savage Saints; perhaps it was best that it remain that way.

  I wasn’t going to be able to avoid this conversation, but a part of me certainly wished that I could also duck away from whatever Marcel was about to tell me. A part of me certainly wished that what I had told Lilly was completely, unequivocally true.

  “Marcel,” I said, steady. “What happened?”

  Marcel gave a very, very long sigh, and when he finally spoke, it was barely audible, the kind of thing where I had to repeat the words in my head a few times before they became coherent. And yet, even with that, I only needed the one hearing to understand what had happened.

  “They got Uncle.”

  Uncle.

  They got him.

  They…

  “Is he…is he dead, Marcel?”

  Marcel didn’t answer.

  “Marcel.”

  “Just come to the shop, Jack,” he said. “But come alone. And come armed. There’s no one but us here, but I don’t need a second attack to happen on our watch.”

  Jesus Christ. The fuck happened?

  “OK,” I said, and Marcel didn’t say a word as he hung up.

  I went back into the bedroom to grab my clothes. Lilly was sitting up. All of the passion and joy from the moment had vanished in a snap; even she seemed to understand that something very serious and very bad had happened.

  “Jack?” she said.

  “I have to go,” I said, muttering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave so soon. But…something happened to my uncle.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  It was a truthful answer, but it was certainly not one that led in the right direction. There was zero chance that Marcel would have placed that call for anything other than the worst of news. I just didn’t want to face up to the idea yet that the worst of that news had happened.

  “I heard you say the words ‘is he dead’ out there. Jack, who is that in reference to? Are you OK?”

  I was starting to feel myself becoming emotional. I couldn’t be having this conversation here. Not in front of a girl I was starting to fall for really hard. Not right after we’d had sex. Not when I had to put on a strong face at the club for whatever was going down.

  “I’ll be all right,” I said. “I just need to go handle some club business.”

  “OK,” she said. “You can come back here if you want when it’s done. I don’t care if you don’t finish until two in the morning, Jack. I just want you and your friends to be OK.”

  I wanted to say we would be. But if the worst had come to pass…

  “I’ll text you and let you know, but don’t wait up for me, OK?” I said. “You’ve got work to do in the morning. I promise I’ll be in touch either tonight or tomorrow. I promise I’ll be OK.”

  I went over and gave her a gentle kiss, but my mind wasn’t really into it. It was kind of hard to be after what we’d just suffered through. I didn’t think it was possible, actually, for me to be anything but distraught and fearful about what had just happened to Uncle.

  “I’ll see you again. I promise.”

  I hated that I even had to say that as if there was the possibility that I wouldn’t see her again. I left without another word, pausing only to grab my shirt in the living room, and then made haste for my motorcycle. I didn’t bother to put my helmet on, speeding through the streets back to the clubhouse.

  The first sign that something was amiss was that outside the door, four Savage Saints stood. They didn’t have their guns out and ready, but they weren’t exactly making any effort to hide them, either. It was like they wanted anyone passing by who was thinking about coming close to get the exact
opposite idea.

  Once I parked my bike and walked over, I could see no one was smiling. There was a mixture of anger, hurt, and sadness on their faces. No one acknowledged my presence, but I could see fear entering their eyes when they saw me.

  By this point, I had to accept the inevitable; I just naively but willingly held out hope that there was a chance I was wrong.

  I walked into the repair shop and saw the lights on. Four more Savage Saints guarded the entrance to the office. No one was saying a word. It was like I had walked into a funeral. I really hoped that that metaphor didn’t turn out to be literal.

  I walked into the entrance and saw Marcel and Niner standing over something in the corner—something that looked disturbingly like a body bag. Fitz was sitting at the table in silence, his chin resting on his hand. When he saw me, he stood up and walked over to me slowly.

  “I’m sorry, Biggie,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  No one’s saying this if he’s alive. Uncle…

  I nodded to Fitz, biting my lip. He moved aside as I headed to Marcel and Niner. Niner patted Marcel on the back, then did the same to me as I walked over to what was certainly a body bag. Marcel saw me, opened his mouth, bowed his head, and then embraced me in a hug. He began to sniffle.

  I knew what I was looking at.

  Uncle was dead.

  The man who had bankrolled the club’s beginning, who had overseen much of our childhood, who was as much a father figure as anyone else in our life, was dead.

  “They killed him, Jack,” Marcel said, his voice shaky and on the verge of just becoming full-on blubbering. “They fucking killed him, man. They went right for him…”

  I couldn’t think of anything I could do other than hug him back. It was just so much to take in at once. They? The Bloodhounds? Kyle?

  They went right for him? What did that mean? Did they kill him here? That didn’t seem likely; there would be more blood. They…

  But the questions were less important than what we were going through right now. I bowed my head into Marcel’s shoulder, and the two of us cried.

  We cried at the loss of Uncle, the father figure.