The need to pump harder, faster, deeper overcomes me. I am as wild above her as she is below me.
Her nails rake down my back and break the skin on my ass when she grips there. I love the idea of wearing her marks, feeling those sharp, little erotic pains and knowing this woman is perfect for me.
As I fill her again, she bucks underneath me to meet my thrust. I think there is no way she can get any better.
Then she does.
Morgan Powell, little Miss Prim and Proper, arches her head up and bites the skin just halfway between my ear and the curve of my neck. The barbaric little bite trips my trigger, and I hammer her hard and fast until she lets go of me with her teeth as she becomes a frenzied explosion, her release washing through her.
Her pussy becomes a vise around me, squeezing me until I think I could go blind from the sensations and do nothing except hold on for the ride. It is more pleasure than I have ever felt in my entire life, and I can’t wait to experience it again.
Rolling so I won’t collapse on top of her, I hold her in my arms, keeping my still pulsing length tucked up inside of her, refusing to pull out yet.
Never do I want to lose her heat.
Never do I want to have her out of my arms.
Never do I want to lose the light that she shines on me and my often dark existence.
Morgan Powell is my very own light at the end of the tunnel, and I didn’t have to die to find her.
I know she is close to passing out from exhausted bliss when her sleepy voice says, “Don’t forget, Brett. You promised me three times a day.” The last word is followed by a small, adorable snore.
A grin spreads across my face until my cheeks start to hurt. Damn, this woman fills all the holes with happiness that I thought had been filled with resignation years ago.
Thank God for cute, stick-up-their-ass women who take their chances on assholes like me.
Chapter
21
Morgan
One Week Later…
“Well …” Casey probes.
“Well, what?” I answer, playing dumb. I know what she wants; I am simply not convinced I want to tell her here in the club where anyone could overhear us.
“What’s it like fuckin’ the boss?” she laughs, and I gasp at her crudeness.
“Shhh …” I hiss. “I don’t know if anyone is supposed to know about us. And, since you asked so nicely”—I look around to make sure we are alone—“it’s amazing. God, why did I wait so long? I know you tried to tell me it would feel good, but I honestly thought you were lying a little. If I had only known it would feel like that, I might not have waited so long after all.”
Her fit of giggles has me balling up the paper sitting on the desk in front of me and throwing it at her. It is one thing to admit to yourself that you might have been a naïve idiot about something; it is entirely something else for your best friend to laugh at you about it. With my luck, the next thing out of her mouth will be “I told you so.”
Since giving my ‘v-card’ to Brett, he has been nothing short of amazing. When he has free time, we spend it together. He set me up in his office at After Midnight, and the day I took over the club’s books, he was so happy he shut the door and fucked me over the desk. He covered my mouth with his hand because he said he didn’t want another man at the club to know just how sweet my screams are. That comment only made me come harder. I don’t know why, but I absolutely love how possessive he gets over me.
Since I am here when the girls start arriving for their shifts, Casey tends to come in early to catch up with me. Our friendship has only grown stronger since the day my sister was kidnapped.
When Madyson was missing, she was my sounding board. No matter the time of day or night, if I called, she answered and listened to me yell, cry, or be somber as I went through the emotions of losing my sister. If it were not for Brett and Casey, I would have completely fallen apart.
Brett and I haven’t discussed being open about our relationship, and I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. I also need to figure out how we will tell Brooke or if Brett intends for us to tell Brooke at all. I know how protective he is over his daughter, and he may be worried about upsetting her. I promised her I would tell her if I ever did have anything with her dad, but now that the situation is here, maybe it is not my place.
Then there is the matter of our age difference. Does it bother him that I am only twenty-four? I know I am young, although many people have told me I have an old soul. I tend to agree with them. Going out clubbing and hooking up with different guys will never be something I want to do. It is obvious I don’t do casual relationships. If I did, I would not have held on to my virginity for twenty-four years. A part of me knew I was waiting for the right man. Now, the question is, will the man I think is right for me decide that I am also right for him?
We haven’t discussed what he wants in the future. The more I think on it, the more I realize we need to sort it out. The anxiety is building up inside of me, and I am scared of what his answers to my questions may be.
He saved my sister. No matter what the future holds, he will always hold my heart, despite the fact that we started out with a more than a rocky introduction to each other.
As the time passes, there is so much more to Brett ‘Ice’ Grady than I ever could have imagined. I couldn’t pick a better man to give my heart, my body, and everything else I have.
“Look at you, getting all day dreamy over there,” Casey jokes.
“He does that to me,” I laugh back at her.
“Better be me you’re talkin’ about when referencing ‘he’ and doing anything to you,” Ice barks out as he enters the office, causing me to blush that he has caught us talking about him.
Casey jumps up out of her seat. “I’m off to get ready for my sets. Catch ya later, girlie!”
Before she can make it out of the office, Ice is pulling me out of my chair and into his hard chest. Tipping my head up, he then kisses me breathless. Sparks fly, fireworks boom—whatever words there are to describe the fire building inside me, it all ignites as he roams my body freely with his hands. He moves to lean against the desk, never breaking contact as he continues his assault on my mouth.
His hand moves to unbutton and unzip my jeans. When he breaks our kiss and moves to nip at my neck, I rock into his hand as he reaches my now damp panties. His fingers push the silken material to the side, and then he inserts one finger in me. With him slowly dragging his finger out of me while also dragging his tongue down my neck, my body is on the edge of seeking release.
His thumb rubs circles on my clit while I put my hands on his shoulders to keep myself steady. I feel myself starting to go weak from the sensations he is building inside of me, never ceasing to be amazed at how he controls my body and the way he is quickly gaining control of my heart.
His tongue swirls on my earlobe before he nips gently. “The door is open. Coal, Skid, or anyone else could walk in right now,” he whispers into my ear. His free hand roams up my shirt, his thumb grazing over my erect nipple in my silk bra, giving this unique impression of the feel of his calloused skin on my very soft skin. “I’m gonna set you off right here, right now, and any one of my brothers could come in and see you coming for me.” The erotic way he is talking to me, the feel of his finger inside of me, the slow build-up he is creating in me, and the idea that someone could find me here with him only heightens my desire.
I watch the door as if I am willing someone to come, willing someone to watch me fall apart while he takes me higher and higher. I am so turned on I would beg him to keep going no matter who came in.
“So wet for me, all for me. If they come in, they will watch you fall apart for me. This is all mine,” he states as he adds pressure with his thumb and pushes two fingers to pump in and out of me.
I grip his shoulders as his hand in my shirt pulls my left breast out of my bra. It isn’t comfortable, but it is far from uncomfortable as I get lost in the response that only he can pul
l from me.
Brett pulls back his head, keeping one hand working me and moving my shirt up to expose me with the other. When his hot mouth comes down and sucks on my nipple, I feel myself clenching around his fingers as I hold his head against me. He stills the fingers inside me as I ride out my orgasm.
Once the aftershocks subside, he pulls his fingers free of me, and I reluctantly release my grip on him and steady myself on my feet. I tuck my boob back into my bra, and he flashes an unrepentant smile at me as he pulls my shirt down for me.
A knock at the doorway freezes every muscle in my body. Although I am still coming down from my orgasm, I am cognizant enough to realize my pants are still undone. Hammer sits in his wheelchair with a knowing smirk as I feel a blush creep over me. Even though I am hidden by Brett’s body, I can’t help but feel like Hammer knows what we were just doing.
“Ice, we got a meeting in thirty.”
Ice watches me, not responding to Hammer, and brings the fingers he just took out of me to his mouth to lick them. With his back to Hammer, knowing he is tasting me on his skin while his friend watches, I get excited all over again.
What has this man done to me? Not in a million years would I have ever imagined ending up with someone who wants to be watched while engaging in intimate acts. There is something about Brett that throws all of my inhibitions out the window to become road kill on the highway called life. He brings out a wildness in me I never knew was there.
And I love it.
“I’ll be ready in five,” he says, licking his lips without taking his eyes off me.
“Sure thing,” Hammer says, smiling at me. “I’ll expect you in fifteen, then.” He laughs for the first time since getting out of rehabilitation from his accident. “And about that conversation I once said we were gonna have about Miss Prim and Proper shakin’ you up…I don’t think we need to talk anymore.” He laughs more and Ice smiles over his shoulder at his friend.
There is a long road to recovery ahead for him and my sister. Together, however, with the support of the family that is the Regulators MC, I think they will both come out on the other side okay.
I would have never pictured myself doing accounting for two strip clubs or sleeping with the president of a motorcycle club, but then again, the best things are sometimes the least expected. Things aren’t always what they seem, and everything about this club is about family, loyalty, and protecting what is theirs.
My bad to the bone man is quite possibly one of the greatest things that could have ever happened to my life.
Chapter
22
Ice
“So, let me get this straight, Dad. You and Morgan, you’re a couple?” Brooke asks.
Once again, I am in unchartered waters with my teenage daughter. I am trying to have a conversation with her about my new relationship. The way she is watching me right now almost feels like she is the proverbial shark, circling me, waiting for the moment I screw up so she can strike. There is no telling what is going on through this child’s head. I am almost positive I would not want to know anyways.
“That’s what I said.”
“Okay, so how is it that we had the ‘talk’ a few years back,”—she pauses for dramatic effect, only making me relive the awkward sex chat with her all over again—“and in that ‘talk’ you told me don’t give it up easily. Just because a boy takes me out, he isn’t worthy, you know, of all that shit.”
“Language,” I chastise.
“Yup. Again, so I can’t ‘give it up¸’ as you say, without actually dating the dude for a while, like a long while … again, as you say, ‘make them work for it, earn it,’ you know, don’t just give the gift away.”
“Land your plane, Brooke. What is your point?” I snap. Trying to talk to a teenager sometimes is enough to drive any person bat-shit crazy.
“I like Morgan—really, really like her—and I want her to be around. I actually think she is perfect for you, for us even. She fills this space with stuff that I didn’t even know we were missing until she was here. Dad, she like, makes the best cookies. She helps me with math! She doesn’t get frustrated with me.” Her eyes glare dramatically at me, trying to get her point across. “She is everything I would truly want for you and for us as a family.”
“Great,” I say, feeling relieved that she is happy about this.
“Not great. Dad, what are you doing for Morgan? Do you know she says you are the example to what I should hold my boyfriends to? She goes on and on about how you take care of me, protect me, provide for me, and you are always here to listen or just be with me. All of which is true. Whatever man I do finally settle down with—”
“When you’re older. Much. Fuckin’. Older,” I interrupt to remind her she is too young to even think of being serious with a boy.
“Dad, stop redirecting and listen to me. What are you doing for Morgan?”
“What do you mean?” I know damn well what I do for Morgan and her body.
“You haven’t taken her on one fuckin’ date!” Brooke fusses and pushes at my shoulder.
My mind swirls so fast I don’t even bother giving her a lecture on her language. Shit, my kid is right. I have fucked this up already.
Without hesitation, I grab my phone. I know it is early on a Saturday morning, and she was up late because of my visit, but this is important.
“Ice,” she greets groggily into the phone.
“Be ready at six tonight.”
“Umm … I haven’t exactly had coffee yet, honey, so can you tell me exactly what I need to be ready for?”
“Our first date.”
“Umm … okay.” She pauses. “Is this for real?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m bein’ real. I was talkin’ to Brooke about us—”
“Brooke knows,” she gasps. “Is she mad at me? I should’ve talked to her first.”
“She is fine with you. She likes you, Morgan. This is about us. I’ve treated you wrong, and now I need to make that right, both for you and for her. Apparently, she took your ‘I’m the example’ talk to heart, and I’m not being a very good standard for her to hold the pimple faced pricks surrounding her up to. Tonight, I rectify that. We’re goin’ out, sweetheart.”
She laughs into the phone as Brooke grabs it out of my hand.
“Forget him. Come over with Madyson. I’ll send Dad away. We’ll have girl time together, getting you ready for your hot date, and Madyson can stay here with me while y’all are out. This way, you both know she’s safe, she will feel safe, and you two can go out with no worries.”
While my teen daughter squeals into the phone, before taking off down the hall, still talking to my woman about what outfits to bring over and how she’s going to do her hair, I can’t help snorting. It appears I didn’t have to worry about Brooke and Morgan getting along.
As I think on it, Brooke’s words stand out to me.
She fills this space with stuff that I didn’t even know we were missing until she was here.
She is right. I smile more. I relax more. Overall, since Morgan Ann Powell came into my life, I find myself happier. For the first time since Erin died, I feel like there is more to my life than being a dad, a soldier, or a Regulator.
The innocent woman that exudes kindness, in a cute way that is uniquely hers, has come into my life and turned it all upside down. I don’t want to be without her. On first appearances, I never would have thought she could handle my lifestyle. Things aren’t always what they seem, though, are they?
Her sister was missing and she faced it head on, refusing to give up even when she didn’t have a clue what she was doing. She challenged me at every turn, never bowing down or taking my shit, even when I was a complete asshole, which was often. She was made for me in a way I don’t know if Erin ever was, because I was too young to notice.
Morgan isn’t afraid of taking on Brooke and her teenage tantrums. She has handled her with love, patience, and understanding. Rather than turn her back on her sister, she embraced
her and took on her problems as her own. Even more so, the woman is already trying to figure out how to rescue her other sister from the clutches of her crazy-ass parents. The woman was born to be a maternal figure. She just has not realized it yet.
Morgan is exactly what I need without even recognizing it, just like Brooke said. My chest tightens as I let that sink in. Maybe the powers that be decided I needed a second chance at life to have someone, besides my daughter, who makes it worth living.
Morgan
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Butterflies tango in my belly as my nerves build up. On one hand, I can say this is happening fast. On the other hand, I have known Ice for months now, and he has been a rock solid source of strength for me. It feels like a whirlwind romance in the sense of our relationship, but the reality is, he was my friend first. It is a friendship that started off a little rocky yet has grown into something beautiful.
I have come to realize, during our short time together, that he is it for me.
His actions have proven he will always be there to catch me when I fall. I know it with every fiber of my being. He doesn’t play games. I never wonder or worry if I am enough for him when he is surrounded by gorgeous women at the club. He makes sure to show me, in a variety of creative ways, precisely how much he wants me and only me.
With Ice, what I see is what I get, no apologies. He brings out the sassy side of me. I want to challenge him because he has shown me I am strong-willed enough to do it. I don’t want to simply take whatever shit he dishes out. And, when I do throw my attitude around to let him know he has crossed a line, he gets this look on his face that lets me know he is proud to call me his. He balances me in a way I never imagined a lover would. Now that I have that from him, I can’t imagine living a life without it.
As I sit at his daughter’s vanity, while she curls my hair into soft tendrils around my face, I anxiously wonder what tonight will bring. A date with Ice? I can’t imagine. Will we end up at a biker bar? Ride his bike all night long? Go to After Midnight and watch his girls strip?
Ice Page 17
