He was suddenly next to her, in her space, holding the dish towel. She stared at it for a second, then lifted her gaze to him before taking it and drying off her hands.
“That sink in yet?” he asked.
“Trip, you need to stop. I don’t understand why you’re doing this. The bar I do, but me?” She shook her head. “There’s no reason for it. We made a mistake, it’s now over and let’s move on.”
He dropped his head until his breath was beating off her lips, but he didn’t kiss her. No. He let that warm breath sweep along her jaw and up her cheek as he slid his nose along hers. “You were born club property,” he said softly but firmly into her ear. “I’m reclaiming what belongs to the club. That means you belong to me.”
That means you belong to me.
Was it wrong that heat rushed through her and everything clenched tight? Her nipples, her pussy, everything except her lips which parted, and a ragged breath escaped.
Yes, it was wrong. So, so wrong. “Sounds like slavery to me.”
“Then you weren’t listenin’.”
“I heard you, Trip, loud and clear. As much as you want to think you can ‘claim’ someone, you can’t own a person. Not without their consent. Hell, maybe not even with their consent.”
“Then tell me no, baby. Tell me that’s not what you want. Tell me you didn’t feel what I did in my kitchen this mornin’. And don’t lie.”
“Having sex with someone is not even remotely similar to having someone claim them.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Maybe if you’re into some kinky shit.”
“Maybe I’m into some kinky shit.”
Stella pulled her head back so she could look at his face. Her hand which she had pressed against his chest to give them as much space as possible, curled into his T-shirt, gripping it hard. “Are you?”
“No, but if you are, I’m willin’ to try whatever the fuck you’re into.”
Holy shit, this man! He was fucking crazy!
She pressed her lips tightly together and pushed at him. He didn’t budge. Of course not.
“I can tell you what I’m not into... You being a bossy motherfucker and trying to control my life. You’re not asking, you’re telling. That’s bossy. And I don’t like it.”
“Don’t you?”
She sucked in her stomach as his callused fingertips traced the waistband of the leggings she had put on earlier. They slid lower until he cupped her mound. She was afraid he’d discover just how damp the crotch of the stretchy cotton was.
Because even though she didn’t want to be claimed as some biker’s woman or ol’ lady, she definitely wanted to have sex with Trip again.
As crazy as that was.
Her brain reminded her it was a mistake and would make things even messier, but her body disagreed. Besides the other night downstairs in the bar and again this morning in his kitchen, her blood hadn’t pumped like that in a long time.
Also during that time, her black and white world had taken on a little color. Just like when the top of the morning sun hit the horizon. Creating enough light to start chasing away the darkness.
He dropped his head until his mouth lightly touched hers and he gripped her mound tighter. “Want my mouth on you there. Want you moanin’ my name as I eat you ‘til you come. Want you beggin’ me to give you my dick. Want you drippin’ wet as you claw my back and bite me hard enough to leave a mark because you’re losin’ your fuckin’ mind as I fuck you.”
His tongue slid quickly along her bottom lip, then was gone. Simply a taste before he devoured her.
“But when I do all that, when I take you like that, wanna know it’s all mine and only mine. I don’t fuckin’ share, baby. Want my name on your lips as you come and no other man’s.”
“We hardly know each other, Trip. We’re different people than we were twenty years ago.”
“Know what I see and know what I want. Also know what I’m feelin’.” His middle finger slipped deeper between her thighs tracing the damp line of cotton. “And what I’m feelin’ doesn’t lie.”
“Can you give me space to breathe, to think?”
“Nothin’ to think about.”
“There’s so much to think about, Trip.”
So much happened in the last two decades. He was no longer a fifteen-year-old boy and she certainly wasn’t an eleven-year-old girl. He hadn’t even wanted—or, hell, liked—her back then. He and Sig and most of the other boys considered her and the other girls pests.
So, what changed?
It certainly wasn’t her sparkling personality.
And he said she was too skinny. Plus, she was so broke, her meals basically consisted of oatmeal or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
What did he see in her that made him want to claim her?
She just couldn’t wrap her head around it.
She needed to switch gears and help him understand exactly what he said. How he said it. See how wrong it was.
Because while she wanted to have sex with him, she did not want to sell her soul to the devil. “Your father took what he wanted, whenever he wanted. As did a lot of who you call the Originals. But that was his downfall. Do you want to end up just like him?”
Trip tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. A long moment later he dropped it and pulled away, giving them at least a few inches of space. But he was still too close. “You’re right. Goin’ about this the wrong way.”
“You shouldn’t be going about this at all. I’ve got nothing to give you, Trip. Nothing. You’re trying to claim someone who won’t make you stronger, but who might pull you down.”
“Bullshit.”
“Trip,” she whispered as she closed her eyes. “Listen...” She had to make him understand without revealing what needed to remain buried.
Her eyes flicked open as his fingers grabbed her chin and he yanked her face up. “No, you fuckin’ listen. Know what I fuckin’ see in you, Stella. I see it clearly. Maybe you don’t. Not sure what fucked up your head, but I still see who you are deep inside. That stubbornness, that determination. That’s who I need at my side. A woman like that. Someone fuckin’ loyal. Someone who’s got my back. Someone who’s got a spine of fuckin’ steel and balls to match. That’s you.”
“No.”
“Yeah, baby, it’s you.”
“It used to be. Not anymore.”
“Think we had a conversation about when life kicks you in the nuts. The pain has passed, Stella, now you gotta rise up and fight back.”
“You don’t even know...”
“Right. I don’t know. I wanna know and you’re gonna tell me.” He lifted a hand to cut off her protest. “When you’re ready.”
What, he wasn’t going to demand she spill her guts?
“We’re stronger together, Stella,” he said softly.
“How do you know that?”
“I just do.”
“That’s not even a good answer.”
“But it’s an answer.”
“Holy shit,” she muttered under her breath. She shook her head, trying to shake the craziness out of it. Was this really happening? “We only had sex once, Trip, and now your hinting at me moving in with you.”
“Not hinting. And we’re gonna change that other fact, too.”
“We are?”
“Yeah, baby, we are. You fuckin’ snuck off before I could finish what I started.”
“That was the point, Trip.”
His eyelids got heavy and he gave her a slow grin. “Didn’t like what I was doin’?” She opened her mouth and he pressed his finger to her lips. “Told you I don’t like liars.”
She decided not to lie. “It was the first time in a long time that I’ve felt alive.”
“You’re definitely alive, baby, and I’ll prove it to you.”
He took her mouth, burying his fingers into her hair, arching her neck back as he increased the pressure of his lips. The hand over her leggings at her pussy squeezed so hard it made her gasp,
but it also made her throb.
And want so much more.
Their tongues tangled and their breathing caught when he removed his hand to only slide it between the fabric and her skin. She wore no panties, nothing stopped him from reaching his destination.
His middle finger pressed on her clit, then circled it a couple of times before continuing lower, separating her folds which were getting slicker by the second.
Cupping her, he slid that long finger of his into her. She couldn’t hide her body’s reaction to him and his Neanderthal-like mentality.
Claim.
Eat.
Fuck.
He just needed to grunt, club her over the head and toss her over his shoulder, and evolution had gone backward millions of years.
If this was anybody else but Trip, she wouldn’t be tolerating it. But with him? For some reason, she was.
At eleven she had foolishly pursued a boy who wanted nothing to do with her.
Now, the tables have turned.
Chapter Ten
Had the tables turned? While, yes, Trip’s relentless pursuit of her was unexpected, was it all one-sided? Had the last twenty years purged him from her system?
Her body was saying otherwise as he continued to make her breathless with not only his kiss but with what he was doing with his fingers.
And what he was doing was about to make her come.
Unlike the time in the bar, no anger or frustration was behind it for either one of them. No need for anything but the pleasure he was bringing.
She missed being touched like this, letting everything go except for what was currently happening.
Losing herself in Trip instead of her memories.
She hadn’t been this wet in forever. Not since her relationship with her husband had been new and exciting.
Before things began to change.
Trip pulled away just enough to end the kiss. “You were with me. Now you’re not.”
She realized his hand had stilled, though two of his fingers remained inside her and his thumb on her clit. He began to move them again and she sucked in a sharp breath.
“You with me?”
“Yes,” she breathed, closing her eyes and dropping her head back far enough it pressed against one of the kitchen cabinets. “Yes,” she repeated as he began to plunge his fingers in and out of her wetness faster.
“Gimme your mouth,” he demanded.
She lifted her head and opened her eyes to see him focused on her lips. “Kiss me.”
His nostrils flared and a little growl escaped him as he captured her lips again. Their tongues clashed and her fingers gripped his face, encouraging him to kiss her harder, deeper. Somehow swallow her whole.
She needed to lose herself within him. Even if for a short while.
She shouldn’t want this.
She shouldn’t want this.
She shouldn’t want this.
But she did.
And she wasn’t going to tell him to stop. It wasn’t going to end with their kiss. It wasn’t going to end with him making her come with his hand.
A few seconds later, heat exploded from her center, radiating to every outer edge of her body, pulling not only a groan from her but one from him as she convulsed around his fingers.
Their breathing was ragged but he didn’t let her mouth go, even when he pulled his hand free from her leggings and hooked her around the back of her thighs, lifting her up.
She held on by wrapping her legs and arms around him and he moved to her bed. When his legs hit the mattress, he let them both topple. Her mouth only became free for a second, enough for her to gasp at the impact of his heavy body landing on hers. He took it again, his fingers digging into her hair, his lips moving, his tongue exploring, like he owned her mouth.
And at that moment, he did.
Where he learned to kiss like that, she had no idea, but it was driving her wild enough that she wouldn’t be surprised if she came again. Or maybe it was the thought that his hard cock—which was pressed into her thigh—would soon be inside her.
Either way, she was holding onto the edge by her fingernails. Fingernails she wanted to dig into his back when they both came.
That wouldn’t happen until he was undressed. He had way too many clothes on.
She twisted her head to break free. She was practically panting when she demanded, “Fuck me.”
That got him moving. He surged up, stripping himself of his cut and tossing it onto a nearby chair. Next, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and threw that onto the floor. His hands dropped to his belt and she followed their every movement as he unfastened it, popped open the button and unzipped his jeans.
He scrambled off the bed to his feet, his eyes not leaving hers. “Get naked.”
She wanted to watch him get undressed first.
He bent over, unlaced his boots and toed them both off, yanked off his socks and then shucked his jeans, leaving them right where they landed with a loud jangle from his belt buckle and chain wallet as they hit the floor.
She didn’t get to see him like this the other night. She had been facing away from him and he’d only dropped his jeans enough to fuck her.
Now she saw everything.
And he was fucking breathtaking.
His thick cock, which pointed right at her, in a nest of trimmed dark hair, and his even thicker thighs. He circled the root of his cock with his hand and began to stroke it, his dark gaze catching hers.
“You’re not naked,” he growled.
She wasn’t sure if she could do that, get naked while he watched. He had said she was too skinny, plus she wanted to put off that other conversation as long as possible. If it was up to her, she’d never have it. But she had a feeling it wouldn’t be up to her.
So, to avoid him from seeing her all at once from a distance, she said, “I want you to do it.” She’d prefer if it was dark when he did it, but the April early evening sun was still high in the sky and the curtains were so thin, they didn’t even darken the studio apartment when closed.
He climbed back onto the bed and walked up her body using his hands and knees, his erection swinging heavily as he did so.
She didn’t know where she wanted to look more. His cock, which had a thick string of precum hanging from the tip, making her want to lick it off, or his face. The intensity of his dark eyes and the predatory expression he wore...
It made heat swirl in her belly as well as goosebumps explode over her skin.
He looked as if he was hungry and she was his next meal.
“Wanna taste that wet pussy but it’s not gonna happen this time, baby. Next time, though. Promise. Will make you come a couple times with my mouth. Is that good?”
Was which part good? The next time part? Or the part where she’ll have at least two orgasms by him eating her out?
She guessed the first one was needed for the second one. And the first one was the problem. By having sex with him, she was dropping her guard enough to let him in, and she was afraid that would be all he needed to take over.
Like he was doing with the bar.
He ripped her tank top over her head but as he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings, she twisted until she was lying flat on her belly.
He hesitated.
And she knew why.
He was looking at the tattoo that took up even more landscape on her back than the BFMC colors did on his.
He was no longer in a rush to remove her leggings. Instead he remained silent and his finger traced down her spine. She knew he was reading the word “perseverance” that was written down the center of the trunk of the large Tree of Life tattoo.
She held her breath when his fingers hesitated on the fallen leaf at the base of the tree.
Please don’t ask. Not yet.
Not yet.
She released the air she was holding deep within her lungs when he moved on, catching the waistband and rolling her leggings down her thighs, working them over her knees, calve
s and then her feet.
His broad, warm hands slid up her bare skin from her ankles to the top of her thighs, where he gripped her hips, and pressed his mouth to the very top of her crease, where one of the tree roots ended.
“That’s a lot of ink,” he murmured against her skin.
“Yeah,” she murmured back.
“Took a lot of time.”
“Yeah.”
“Your full sleeve alone... Know how long it takes. The time and money invested.”
“Yeah.” She could afford it then. She couldn’t afford it now.
Most of it had been done years ago, starting when she was eighteen, one small piece after the other, until the sleeve on her left arm was done in full color, unlike his sleeve of black and gray.
The tree was also in color, but done in watercolor, so it was a softer look for the green leaves and the brown trunk. PERSEVERANCE was in solid black. The only part in grayscale was the fallen leaf with Kade’s name in it.
She had that done, along with the lettering, a lot later...
After.
He ran his tongue up her spine and when he was finished, he said, “The word’s a good reminder, unless you don’t heed it, Stel.”
She had gotten it to keep herself breathing when she wanted to do nothing but stop. To remind herself that one day it would get better, she just needed to get herself to that day.
She almost didn’t... until she persevered.
He straddled her hips, swept her hair from her neck and replaced it with his face. His mouth moved along her neck and around the curve of her ear. “Need to grab a wrap and for you to turn over, baby. Not doin’ it from behind today. Wanna see your face, want to feel your nails, your mouth. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she breathed.
She shouldn’t want that, too, but she did.
She wouldn’t fight him this time. Not like the other night.
Her crappy bed shook violently as he moved off her to grab his jeans and wallet. A few seconds later he was back. She heard the tear of the condom wrapper and the bed moved again as he rolled it on. She squeezed her thighs together in anticipation. The slipperiness between them confirmed she was soaked.
Blood & Bones: Trip (Blood Fury MC Book 1) Page 15
