Vexed

by Phoenyx Slaughter

  “I’ve already seen it.”

  “What?” Realizing she’s messin’ with me, I tug her close and smack her ass. She giggles and skips out of my hold.

  “Boss, Prez, is there anywhere you’re not in charge, Reed?”

  “No. Now get your ass over here, I want to show you something.”

  Still laughing, she follows me to the last open garage door. “Oh, wow. It’s so pretty.”

  She walks around the car, careful not to touch it. “It’s beautiful.”

  When she’s within reach, I grab her and yank her to me. Then we’re mouth-to-mouth. Her arms slide around my neck, and I pick her up and set her on the back of the car. We’re still kissing and she skims her hands under my shirt. My body shudders from her touch. I can’t get enough of this girl. She pulls away and moves to take her top off, but I stop her.

  “No. Don’t want any of these fuckers seeing you.”

  “Oh.”

  Then we’re right back at it. Her fingers twist in my hair as she keeps me close. My hands slide up under her skirt, fingers hooking into her panties and dragging them down her legs. Her hands fumble with my belt and I decide I need her tits in my mouth, so off her shirt goes. Bra too.

  “I thought you didn’t want anyone to see.” She gasps as I lash one hard nipple with my tongue.

  “Fuck it. Let them see what they can’t have.” My fingers brush against a condom in my pocket, and I take a second to roll it on.

  She laughs, then gasps, when I spread her knees, lift her up, and thrust into her. I get a little lost staring into her eyes. My movements slow, and she rakes her nails over my scalp. “I love you, Reed.”

  It’s the first time she’s said it, and I can’t imagine a better time or place.

  “Love you too, Shortcake.” Our lips meet for a long, slow kiss.

  When we part, she lies back against the curved glass of the back window, letting me see the way her tits jiggle when I slam into her.

  “Like that?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she answers breathlessly.

  “You’re so fucking hot. You gonna be mad if someone sees me fucking you?”

  “God, no.”

  The car’s low, making it an odd angle for me. I pull out, drag her off the car, bend her over it, lift up her hips, and thrust into her from behind. “Fuck, Reed!”

  “Take it for me, Athena.”

  She’s too busy moaning and grinding back against my dick to give me any lip.

  “Come for me, sweetheart.”

  She doesn’t answer, but a few seconds later, she moans even louder, clenches so hard around me, I have no choice but to let go. The blissed-out feeling goes on and on as I empty into her.

  “Holy fuck.”

  She gasps and leans against the car. “Oh my God. That was intense.”

  I lean over and press a quick kiss to her lips. “Yes, it was.”

  After dropping the condom in one of the trashcans, I find her still slumped against the car. I reach out and run my fingers over her cheek, and help her into her clothes.

  She nods at the trashcan. “Thank you.”

  Knowing exactly what she means, I nod. I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her close. “Figured since I stole your underwear, least I could do is make sure you’re not running around with my cum dripping down your legs.”

  “Damn, you’re dirty,” she whispers.

  I take her mouth in a kiss and give her ass a squeeze.

  When we part, she’s flushed, and I contemplate taking her into my office. Maybe spreading her out on my desk—

  Her voice interrupts my dirty desk fantasy. “I think we left sex prints all over this car. Is the owner going to be mad?”

  “I dunno. You tell me.” I dig out a key and hand it over.

  “What’s this? What are you—”

  “You need something to get back and forth to L.A.”

  “It’s mine? You got me my seventy-six Corvette?” Her voice keeps rising in pitch as the pieces fall into place for her.

  “Well, someone brought in as a trade, and I’ve been fixing—”

  She squeals and jumps up to hug me. “Oh my God! That’s…thank you.”

  Fuck, do I love her. “Sparkly paint’s coming this week. And Locke’s been practicing his Strawberry Shortcakes.” Man, has he been pissed about that, too.

  Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I mentioned that once. One time, Reed. The night we…got together. And you remembered?”

  “Fuck yeah. Silliest thing I ever heard. Fucking cute as hell, though.”

  She hugs me again. “You really don’t mind me going back to L.A.?”

  “Yeah, I fuckin’ mind. But I’ll visit you and you’ll come home. Then, when you’re a big movie star, you can buy us a house half way.” I brush a few loose curls off her cheek. “Nothing else matters as long as you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours. I’m so yours.” She reaches up and gives me another kiss. When we part, she glances at the car again. “Thank you, Reed.”

  “Anything for you, Shortcake.”

  * * *

  Six months later…

  “Hurry up, Biker Barbie, Ken’s going to be here any minute,” Elliot shouts.

  “You better not call him that to his face,” I warn as I join him in the living room. Romeo’s accepted Elliot as my roommate, even if he doesn’t always appreciate Elliot’s sense of humor.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He runs his skeptical gaze over my cupcake leggings. “What are you wearing? Pajamas? At least pretend you’re not going to fuck as soon as you see each other.”

  “Shut up. He likes these.”

  The buzzer downstairs goes off and my heart races. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Romeo’s knocking at the door. We don’t speak at first. I throw myself against him and he catches me, lifting me up, pulling me against him. Our mouths meet and get reacquainted while everything else fades away.

  Elliot clears his throat and I draw back.

  “I’d leave you two alone, but you’re kinda blocking the door.”

  Romeo’s mouth slides into a smirk and he holds his hand out to Elliot for a quick shake. “Good to see you, kid. My girl been behaving?”

  “Hey,” I protest, smacking Romeo’s arm.

  Elliot shakes his head. “Not one bit.”

  “Shut up,” I grumble, but I’m laughing too.

  Elliot leans over and gives me a brief hug. “Have a safe trip home. See you in a few weeks?”

  “Yup.”

  Romeo watches Elliot leave. Once the door shuts, he pounces, grabbing me and carrying me into the bedroom.

  “Missed the fuck out of you,” he mumbles against my mouth.

  * * *

  Later, when we’re properly worn out, he leads me downstairs to the garage where my car’s stored.

  “You want to drive my car home?”

  “Yeah. I’ll leave this bike in your garage.”

  I notice it’s not his regular ride. This one is devoid of any Iron Bulls MC logos or colors. The respectful way to ride through territories claimed by other clubs, Romeo’s explained to me.

  The drive home doesn’t seem as long when we’re together. He drives while I tell him all my stories from the set of the television show I’ve been working on. It’s nothing major. A tiny, tiny recurring role on a big show.

  Okay, it’s a big deal. The pay is shit, but I’m meeting lots of people.

  While the show’s on a break from filming, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with Romeo. Even if it is at the clubhouse.

  Except, he goes right past the turn-off for the Iron Bull compound. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Are we going to Dante and Karina’s?” I have plans with Karina for the day after tomorrow. Tonight and tomorrow are reserved exclusively for my man.

  “No.”

  We pass Dante’s driveway, and still Romeo continues into the mountains. Finally, he turns into a long driveway and it’s a long way
before a house comes into view.

  “Where are we?”

  “You’ll see.”

  It’s a modest log cabin-type of home on the outside. There’s nothing modest about the inside though. High-end kitchen, a wall of windows that looks out over the mountains, a spiral staircase to the top floor. It’s not completely furnished yet. “It’s beautiful, but whose is it?” I ask.

  “Mine,” Romeo answers. “Ours.”

  “Ohmygod!” While I don’t mind being at the clubhouse, sometimes it’s a bit much on my short visits home. I’ve never complained about it. My eyes burn with unshed tears and my lip quivers. He just knew.

  He takes my hand and leads me downstairs. “What’s down here?”

  “My favorite part.”

  He leads me into a room and slides a switch by the door up, illuminating enough for me to see it’s a home theater.

  “This is so cool.”

  I’m walking through the space, touching the wide, leather theater-style seats when I notice Romeo slide the doors closed and dim the lights again.

  “Have a seat.”

  “Are we watching something now?”

  “Oh, yeah. Been waitin’ way too long to watch this with you.”

  Confused, I take one of the seats in the middle of the room. The chairs are big enough, that Romeo settles in next to me. Our shoulders and thighs press together and I tuck one of my hands under his elbow.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  And I know what’s coming.

  Us.

  I’ve watched myself onscreen a few times. The television show.

  This is mature content, only appropriate for us. I don’t look half bad, shyly posing and teasing him. But when he sets the camera down and comes into view.

  Wow.

  “Fuck, you’re hot,” I mutter.

  Next to me, Romeo chuckles. His hand moves over my thigh, between my legs.

  By the time the film gets to the good stuff, we’re not even looking at the screen. We’re way too entwined in each other.

  “Think we’ll ever watch it to the end?” I ask between kisses.

  Against my mouth he smiles. “Probably not.”

  I hope you loved Romeo and Athena’s story. As with all of my stories, their end is more of a Happy For Now, given that Athena is only eighteen.

  Originally, I planned for Kadence’s book to be #4, but while I was finishing up Entwined, Romeo demanded that I work on his story. Because of the similar age difference between Romeo and Athena and Dante and Karina, I worried their stories would sound too much alike. Thankfully, Athena had exhibitionist tendencies rather than babygirl ones, so I think the two couples ended up being very distinct.

  If you haven’t noticed, I enjoy my alpha heroes crude and dirty, but with a soft side that is always looking out for what’s best for his lady. Too many times lately I’ve read books where there hero isn’t alpha, he’s just an asshole looking to get his dick wet. While Romeo may have started out that way, I like to think that by supporting Athena’s ambitions, he turned himself into a true alpha hero. To me, there’s nothing sexier than a growly, dirty-talker who respects his woman and puts her needs before his own. Women, especially young women, shouldn’t settle for anything less.

  Thanks for reading!

  Nyx

  p.s. Keep reading for a sneak peek at Unhinged (Iron Bulls MC #5)

  Coming sometime in 2016

  * * *

  Kadence

  I should be dead or worse by now.

  Taking in the collection of seedy men in the room, I think I prefer death.

  I’m anxious to see the sun rise. You know, since it will probably be my last one.

  For once I’m completely innocent in this whole mess. I had a night out with my new-found half-sister, Karina, and her best friend, Athena. At the last club we went to I ran into a bitch from high school. We traded a few insults and then my very proper sister dragged me out of there before the hair-pulling started. Although she’s hooked up with the Sergeant at Arms of the Iron Bulls MC, my sister seems to be a gentle soul. I would have preferred to throw a few punches at Ivy Wilder before we left, but Karina didn’t give me the option.

  On my way home, a pack of bikers forced my car off the road and brought me here.

  You see, I’d forgotten that my high school frenemy’s father was president of the Red Storm MC, which runs some of the surrounding territory. I’d also forgotten that Ivy was a whiny bitch who couldn’t handle her own battles without running to daddy for help.

  The sound of no fewer than ten Harleys pulling into the parking lot makes me want to beg for death.

  “Guess what, princess? Someone came for you after all.”

  Great. My step-father. Hell, not even my stepfather. My ex-stepfather. And if I’m lucky—yes, that’s sarcasm—he brought his son, my ex-stepbrother with him.

  The men who’d been guarding me, surround the men who just arrived. How far could I run before one of them caught me?

  Or shot me?

  Doesn’t really matter since I’m tied to this fucking chair.

  “Got nerve wearing your cut in our territory, Bolt.” The president of the Red Storm MC greets my ex-stepfather.

  Ah yes, Bolt Savage, President of the Savage Dragons MC. They control a hell of a lot more territory than Red Storm does. This should be interesting.

  “That my daughter you got tied to a fucking chair?”

  Ah, Bolt. He always did have a way of getting right to the point.

  It’s why he and my worthless mother are no longer together. She’s not fond of hearing the truth. Bolt has no filter and a low bullshit tolerance. Two annoying qualities his son inherited.

  “Your daughter?”

  I clear my throat and chuckle at the same time. “I tried to tell you, asshole.”

  Behind me, someone yanks my hair. “Watch your mouth, bitch.”

  “Hey! Get your hands off her.” That would be my stepbrother, Blaise Savage, Vice President of the Savage Dragons MC.

  Ex-stepbrother. Very ex.

  Because if we were still step-siblings, the things we did together the last time we saw each other would be a little squicky.

  Despite my predicament, my body heats at the memory.

  “What the fuck you doing here, Dante? What’s your stake?” Deacon shouts.

  Oh, goodie. Karina’s scary boyfriend joined the rescue party. Friggin’ bikers.

  There’s just way too many of them in my life.

  Also by Phoenyx Slaughter

  Asunder (Iron Bulls MC #1)

  Disconnect (Iron Bulls MC #2)

  Entwined (Iron Bulls MC #3)

  Vexed (Iron Bulls MC #4)

  * * *

  Infatuation (A Rebel Stepbrother Romance) – only available on Amazon.

  * * *

  Coming Soon:

  Unhinged (Iron Bulls MC #5)

  Fearless (Iron Bulls MC #6)

  Claimed (Iron Bulls MC #7)

  You might also like…

  If you enjoy your MC Romances heavy on the romance, but still full of foul-mouthed alpha bikers, here’s an excerpt from Slow Burn, book one of the Lost Kings MC series by Autumn Jones Lake.

  * * *

  Forced to represent an outlaw biker, a married attorney must come to terms with her feelings for her client while avoiding the danger he brings into her sedate life.

  Slow Burn (Lost Kings MC, Book 1)

  Copyright © 2014 by Autumn Jones Lake.

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-9907945-0-9

  Print Book ISBN: 978-0-9907945-1-6

  * * *

  Edited by: Marti Lynch

  Cover Designed by: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

  Photography: Kelsey Keeton of K Keeton Designs

  Models: Cameo Hopper and Walter Veale

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the tex
t of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Autumn Jones Lake. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Lake, Autumn Jones/ Slow Burn (Lost Kings MC, Book 1) / Autumn Jones Lake

  SLOW BURN and the Lost Kings MC series is a complete work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Slow Burn is an original work of fiction by Autumn Jones Lake.

  Chapter One

  It wasn’t love at first sight when I met her. Lust? Definitely. I don’t think I believed in love at the time, but one look at her beautiful face, and all the bad stuff around me melted away. Not an easy feat for a guy in handcuffs.

  Someone as innocent as her should never have gotten involved with a man like me. By innocent, I don't mean she was some breathy, eighteen-year-old virgin ingénue. No—when we met, she was a thirty-one-year-old married lady. When I use the word innocent, it is in terms of never having killed someone. Never seeing someone die in front of her. Never breaking the law.

  True violence had never touched her life.

  Violence and I had been close personal friends for a large part of my life. Along with crime. And death. I used violence as a tool to keep order in my often chaotic world, just as she used the law to keep things orderly in her black-and-white one.