“Bastard.”
His body shook with silent laughter and I couldn’t help but smile as I wiggled against him, trying my best to get even closer to his body—like it was even possible.
“I gave you three days.”
I snorted. “I came back in two.”
“I know. I’m glad.”
“Kit kicked me out.”
Optimus laughed, the sound drawing the attention from his brothers and the girls at the bar who looked over at us with confused looks on their faces. “I know, I told him to.”
“I’m not even slightly surprised,” I said rolling my eyes.
“We need to talk,” he said as he brushed my hair back from my shoulder and his lips found my neck. Just that one simple gesture had me forgetting about everything and grinding my ass against him. “I—”
Turning my head quickly, I pressed my lips to his. My body automatically turned on from the familiar taste of his mouth and brush of his unshaved face against mine. “Not yet. Let me just have five minutes before the world comes crashing down around me again.” I pulled back infinitesimally, my lips still close enough to brush his as I spoke.
Before I knew what was happening, Optimus had hooked his arm under my knees and with his other arm supporting my back as he carried me out of the room and down the hall. “Five minutes might not be enough time.”
“Maybe not, but right now I’ll take whatever time I can get.”
I kicked the door closed behind me before I tossed Chelsea on the bed. She let out a little squeal followed by laughter as she bounced in the center.
“Are you ever going to give the caveman routine up?” she asked in amusement.
I let my cut slip off my shoulders, catching it as it fell to my hands and turning to hang it on the back of Chelsea’s door. We took pride in our club colors. It showed everyone who we were. When you wore your colors you wore them with your head held fucking high because you weren’t only representing yourself, you were representing your club—your family. What you did come back on all of us, so you better be ready to back your actions the fuck up to your brothers. You never handed your cut over to anyone, you washed it, you stood and watched over someone’s shoulder as they sewed on your patches. You protected it with your life. Because that’s exactly what it was.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, Blackbird,” I told her, pulling at the neck of my shirt and dragging it over my head and tossing it into the corner of the room. She rolled her eyes, but her eyes soon came back to me, scanning my body. I had my fair share of tattoos that ran down my arms and across my upper chest. I also had the club emblem in a full back tattoo, much like many of my brothers. Those of us that chose to have it done knew that the club would be in our lives forever, there was no leaving and there was no backing out. I would live and die a brother. That was a fact.
I knew Chelsea loved to trace my tattoos. Sometimes I’d wake up to find her fingers dragging lazily across my back or my arms. I never told her, but I fucking loved it.
“You just gonna stand there?” she asked, her voice soft but full of anticipation.
“You’re the one fucking me with your eyes from all the way over there. Was just letting you have a good look,” I told her, holding my arms wide. “Would you like me to do a spin or something?”
She smirked. “Could you drop your pants first? Your ass is amazing, but those jeans just don’t do it justice.”
I laughed and took three steps to the bed. I reached out and grabbed her ankle and she giggled as I pulled on it, dragging her to the edge of the bed. I stood between her legs and leaned forward, placing my hands on either side of her shoulders. I brushed my nose against hers and she lifted her head, forcing her lips against mine.
If I had to choose a favorite smell or taste, it would be her. Even in the mornings when most people have the most God awful morning breath, she always tasted amazing. I didn’t know how or why and I didn’t care. I forced her back on the bed, my tongue delving into her mouth and dueling against hers. It was never a fight for power with her, it was more playful than anything. Chelsea always gave in to me.
“Missed this mouth, baby,” I mumbled against her lips.
“This mouth or just a mouth in general?” she asked, licking at my lips and attempting to draw me in again.
“This mouth,” I whispered, taking her lip between my teeth and pulling at it. “Always this fucking mouth.”
I felt her hands reach for my jeans, unbuckling my belt and fighting with the buttons. I usually liked to take control. Make her wait and squirm as I ordered her about. It was sexy as hell seeing her give her power to me and trust me to make her feel good.
Chelsea could be a spitfire, no doubt growing up the way she did she had to deal with more than her fair share of overbearing assholes and people trying to tell her what to do. You wouldn’t think the club life would suit her, that she would rebel against the rules, but we had given her so much more. Here she had people who cared about her. She might be pussy, but she was part of our family and nobody fucked with our family. Right now, all I wanted to do was to force her to her knees and fuck her pretty little mouth. But another part of me told me to let her take the lead.
“I want your cock,” she whimpered, pulling her lips from mine.
I pushed off the bed and stood straight. She quickly pulled herself to sit at the edge and looked up at me expectantly.
I smirked. “Have at it, baby. You want it? Take it.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. I wasn’t giving her control, but I was letting her lead. She wasted no time in dropping my pants to the floor and wrapping her delicate hands around my cock. I groaned, the instant she touched me it was like coming home. She knew, even without my prompting or orders, exactly what I needed and how to please me. She fisted me with both hands, pulling at my length as her tongue flicked out and tickled the end.
“Fuck,” I moaned.
“I heard something today,” she said faintly, continuing to jack me off. “I heard you took Lou Lou to your room but wouldn’t fuck her.” She dipped her head and took one of my balls into her mouth. My whole body clenched and my hands wrapped themselves in her hair.
“You got a point to make, babe?” I grunted.
She let go with a pop before doing the same thing with the other. “Why?”
She let her hands drop and took me in her mouth, her head bobbing up and down, occasionally forcing as much of me down her throat as possible and causing me to grind my teeth. “You using this as some weird torture technique to get me to tell you my secrets?”
She laughed softly. “Is it working?”
I held her head and thrust my dick in and out of her mouth. “I would have kept a lot more secrets if I knew this was how you planned to get them outta me.”
Saliva dripped from the side of her mouth as she gagged and I held her there for a second more before releasing my grip and letting her pull back. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and climbed to her feet.
“You didn’t fuck her,” she stated, pulling her shirt over her head and shimmying out of her skin tight jeans.
I walked around her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t long before she followed, climbing into my lap and straddling my legs. I could feel the heat radiating off her pussy and I had to stop myself from driving my cock straight up into her. Her tits sat right in my face, begging for me to pull one into my mouth.
“You didn’t fuck her?” she repeated, her wetness still hovering.
“She wasn’t you,” I growled, frustrated.
She instantly dropped herself, her pussy swallowing my dick whole and causing us both to cry out. We both stayed there for a minute, breathing hard and staring directly into each other’s eyes. Slowly she began to move, lifting herself and grinding on me. It felt incredible, but I wanted more and I know she did too.
“My turn.” I hooked my arms under her legs and stood up. I dropped her back on the bed and fell right on top of her, my penis never leaving
the nice wet cave it had found. I’d given her time to have her fun. Sometimes it was fun to see what she’d come up with when given the opportunity to show me what she liked. But the reality was, we worked because we knew what we liked. And the one thing that would take her over the edge, every single time, was when I did what I knew best.
I braced myself over her. “Take those nipples in your fingers, Chelsea. I want to see you pull them.” She did it instantly, closing her eyes and throwing her head back as it gave her that little bit of extra pleasure.
“Good girl. You know I’m gonna make you feel good, don’t you.”
She nodded. “Please. More Op.”
I slammed back into her, her breathing increasing with every powerful thrust. I threw her legs over my shoulders and bent her in a way that you’d think would hurt, but that gave me access to that little button inside her.
“Oh! Op!”
Hitting it over and over, pistoning my hips, I rested my forehead against hers. A sticky sheen of sweat between them. I could feel her body tightening in anticipation. She was ready to explode like fireworks on the Fourth of July. The feeling was mutual, but I was trying my best to hold off. I wasn’t done with her yet. I sat back and used my hand to rub at her clit as I slowed down, but it was more than enough. Her walls clenched around me and I had to pull out before I erupted inside her before I’d had my fill.
“Op! Oh my God,” she cried out, throwing her head back on the bed and taking a fist full of the blanket in her hand as her body writhed and squirmed.
I wrapped my hands around her waist and lifted her to my mouth, lapping at the juices that leaked out. That shit was sweet, so fucking sweet. She wiggled her hips as I used my tongue to tease her sensitive clit before dipping back to swirl it around her tight little ass.
“Oh God,” she moaned, the awkward position not allowing her much movement but forcing her to lay back and take it like a good girl.
I held her tightly to me as I pressed my tongue in and out of her tight little ass, each time pressing a little further. When it was nice and wet, I bought one of my hands from around her and pushed against it with my finger.
“Oh yes, more. Please.”
I smirked, my girl liked a little dirty play. I began to lay her body back down on the bed and she pouted at me. Fucking pouted those full sexy lips.
“Turn over,” I demanded. She scrambled to do as I said, twisting herself in the sheets and raising her ass to me as she kept her upper body flat on the bed.
I lined my cock up with her still weeping pussy, sliding it in slowly. She buried her face in the sheets and pushed back against me, filling herself. I let her move, sucking my cock in and out as I licked two of my fingers and pressed them to her ass.
“You like my fingers in here don’t you, baby.”
“Mmm,” she groaned as she pushed back again, sucking my fingers deeper.
“Ride me,” I growled, spanking her ass with my free hand. Her speed quickened as she slammed back against me, both our moans filling the still air of the room. “That’s it. Harder!”
She pushed herself up onto her hands, giving her more leverage to push back. I drove into both her holes, knowing it wouldn’t take long before we would both come.
“Oh God, I’m coming.” Her whole body started to shake and I pulled my two fingers from her tight ass and gripped her hips as I slammed home.
“Fuck!” I called, my come spilling from my cock as her pussy convulsed around it, dragging my release out longer than I expected. Breathing heavily, I fell to the side, pulling her with me.
“Holy…shit.” she whispered between deep gasps.
I chuckled, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her snug against my chest. “Fucking missed you,” I growled, nuzzling the back of her neck. “Fucking missed you.”
“Need to go away more often if that’s the welcome home I get,” she said, laughing and wiggling her perfect fucking ass back against me.
“No fucking way.” I pulled her in tighter, not caring if she couldn’t even breathe.
Kev called me out early, dragging me away from the beautiful woman that was snuggled contently into my side. Chelsea was a cuddler. I wasn’t big on displays of affection, but there was something about her that made me want to tuck her into my side and never let her leave. I’d grown accustomed to waking up with her at my side. It was something over the last few years that had become normal for us.
Sure, I’d been with other club girls on the odd occasion. Sometimes on the road the need for a warm body at night had become too much. But what I had come to hate, was the guilt that sat in my gut after every encounter. Chelsea had buried herself under my skin—her touch, her voice, and her smile were all at the forefront of my mind.
So eventually I just stopped. I no longer shared mine or any other bed with another woman. Yeah, it sounded fucking stupid. In my head, this woman was mine. I didn’t want another. But I wouldn’t claim her as my own.
I was a fucking idiot.
I didn’t know how else to explain it.
I tugged on my jeans and threw my cut on over my naked torso before I answered the door. I gave Kev a small lift of my chin. “What’s up?”
“Blizzard’s waiting in church. He’s got some shit to show you,” he explained as he walked next to me down the hallway.
“Is this shit urgent or do I have time to make coffee?” I grumbled.
Kev chuckled. “You might need something a little stronger than that.”
I scrubbed my face with my hand. “Coffee. Need fucking coffee.”
I took a quick detour to the kitchen where Sammy was prepping breakfast and got her to pour me a cup—black. I had the feeling it was just going to be one of those days.
I sat in my chair at the head of the table. Even after all these years it was still surreal to be sitting here in front of my men just like my father had before me. They looked to me for direction and support and I held my head high. The fact that I was lucky to have so many men ready to stand at my back at the drop of a hat was definitely not lost on me.
Unlike some MC Presidents, I never took for granted that I had the power to either raise my men or completely destroy them.
“So what’s the deal?” I grunted before taking a sip of my coffee.
Blizzard sat to my right, some papers strewn out over the table. Kev, Leo, and Wrench joined us too, all looking at Blizzard with varying expressions. Some concern, some anger.
“The first thing—”
I groaned. “There’s more than one thing?”
He hit me with a serious look that said shut the fuck up. I glared back at him, but he continued, “We found some shit in Target’s things that were a little...worrying.”
I frowned. “How worrying?”
He picked up a brown colored folder and pushed it across the table to me. I slapped my hand down on top of it, stopping it from sliding off the side and onto the floor. I stared at it for a minute, willing myself to open the front page, but the sickening feeling of dread in my stomach froze my body, afraid of what I would find.
I flipped it open.
There were pages of documents, documents that I had seen before and were of no real big surprise. I flicked through them. “Are these from Chelsea’s background check?”
He nodded. “I’m not sure if he was looking for something, or if he found what he wanted in that pile of papers, but they’re copies of the ones we hold in the office safe.”
“How the fuck did that bastard get in the safe?” I snapped.
Blizzard was unaffected by my sharpness and continued to flick through the papers before him. “I wouldn’t have a clue. But that’s not the only thing that we found.”
Blizzard and I were the only ones who had the combination to the safe that was located inside my office. Not only that, but it was a combination that we changed monthly and never written down. It never had any importance to either of us—birthdays, ages, addresses—it was always randomly chosen. How that fucker had figur
ed it out, I had no damn idea.
The information that was kept in the safe was private, but not incriminating. We had other ways to store that kind of thing. In the safe, we mainly held personal documents for members of the club. It was all types of information like background checks for when a new member prospects—family names and addresses, account information for club payments, and any legal information.
“What’s all the rest of this shit?” I asked, gesturing to the other papers scattered over the table.
“Chelsea’s paperwork was the same as the original. Target had just taken a copy and put it back. But all this stuff, it’s been altered,” Wrench explained, picking up one of the loose pieces. “This shit says I did time when I was twenty-three. I didn’t get locked up that year.”
“Same with mine,” Leo said pointing to the pile of papers. “It says I was in prison that year, but not only is it wrong, it’s also named with a prison out of state.”
I frowned. “Does this make sense to anyone?”
They all shook their heads.
“The only thing we know for sure is that Target was focused on Chelsea,” Blizzard explained. “He had all her info—info that was not easy for us to get in the first place. Nothing named her parents, just foster parents. The rest of it is pretty bland, nothing suspicious.”
“He went through a lot of trouble to do this,” I said, picking up one of the other pages and eyeing it carefully. “This shit looks legit.”
My brothers nodded in agreement.
“No shit. This ain’t Photoshop. This is a document that has been altered by someone within the state who has access to this kind of shit,” Wrench explains. “I rang the prison on Leo’s info. It says they have no record of him ever being incarcerated there, so obviously they changed it back when they had the proof they needed.”
“Motherfuckers,” I muttered under my breath. “There’s a game going on here that we are very unaware of. We need to sort this shit out and now.” My voice slowly rose, my anger clearly evident to my brothers.
“That’s not the only problem,” Blizzard said solemnly
Chelsea (The Club Girl Diaries Book 2) Page 10
