by Hart, Lane
“He’s right,” Nash agrees. “You already know she’s shady as hell. No pussy is worth losing your cash and your head over.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I snap at him.
“That girl is all about the money, man,” Silas answers. “She’s using you, setting you up to be her baby daddy and meal ticket for the next eighteen years. If you haven’t figured that shit out yet, then you need to get your head checked, Prez.”
No, I don’t believe that. Naomi doesn’t care about money. She was only stealing from the Aces to pay back Harry.
But she never has told me why she had to steal from him...
I thought I was getting to know Naomi, but all I’ve really learned the last two weeks are the sounds she makes when she’s coming on my tongue or cock and that she can’t seem to get enough.
Could it just be an act, and she’s only pretending to love fucking me until I knock her up?
“She’s on birth control,” I say aloud.
“That’s what they all say,” Silas grumbles. “How do you know for sure, though?”
“I’ve checked the pill container she leaves in the bathroom and see them missing each and every day,” I assure them.
When Silas and Nash both share a knowing look, I want to knock their teeth out. “What?” I exclaim.
“What if she’s flushing them?” Nash asks.
“Fuck you!” I shout at him. “She’s not flushing her pills. Who the hell would do that?”
“Gold-diggers,” Silas answers without missing a beat. “One of the oldest tricks in the books.”
“Get the fuck out of my office!” I yell at the two of them and nearly lose my shit when they exchange a glance again. “You’re wrong, and I don’t want to hear another fucking word about her!”
“If you say so, prez,” Silas mutters before they walk out and slam the door behind them.
Naomi
* * *
Malcolm doesn’t say a word to me the rest of the night on the boat, or before he drives us home on his bike. The tension between us is back, the sensation exactly the same as when he was jealous of Fiasco and blaming it on me.
As soon as we walk through the door of his house, Malcolm snaps.
One minute I’m wondering if he’s going to ever speak to me again for something that wasn’t my fault; and then the next, he’s slamming my back against the front door and pushing me down to my knees.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Malcolm grits out softly when I’m kneeling on the floor.
“N-no,” I answer in a whisper.
“Tonight I nearly killed a man,” he goes on to say but I’m mostly distracted by his hands that are undoing his belt, popping the button on his jeans and lowering his zipper. “I nearly killed a man just for touching you.”
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that information. I didn’t like seeing Malcolm so out of control, but I can’t lie. I do enjoy seeing his jealousy because it means he cares.
“You make me fucking crazy,” he tells me as he pulls out his thick, semi-hard cock and gives it a few strokes, making it grow longer and causing my mouth to water for a taste. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fuck your mouth without thinking about you getting on your goddamn knees for Fiasco in our stock room, sucking him off so good he was willing to fight me for you.”
“It-it was just once,” I remind him, unsure what else he wants me to say or why he’s bringing that up now. “I barely remember it.”
“Just one time, and he was ready to fight me for you,” Malcolm reiterates. “If being addicted to your pussy is enough to have me ready to kill a man, I’m not sure if I can handle your mouth.”
“I bet you can,” I look up at his face to tell him before my gaze goes back to his hard length. “I really want to try.”
“Take your dress off,” he orders me, refusing to give me his decision on the matter just yet.
Reaching around to my side without breaking eye contact with Malcolm’s dick, I find the zipper with my fingers and lower it. I shrug out of the material until it’s completely off, leaving me in nothing but a bright yellow thong, one the same color as Malcolm’s bike. I thought he might like the color on me. And judging by the way he steps back and tilts his head to the side to get a better look as his hand speeds up the movements on his dick, I think he does.
“So fucking beautiful,” he says, but it doesn’t sound like a compliment. It sounds like a complaint. Stepping forward again, he grabs my chin with his free hand and tells me, “Open your mouth wide.”
My jaw falls open on command, stretching as wide as it can possibly go for him. Malcolm feeds the fat crown of his cock inside, rubbing his flesh along the flat of my wet tongue before pulling it back on a groan. He lets go of my chin to slap his palm to the door above my head and then pistons his cock in and out of my stretched mouth several quick times in a row. When his head hits the back of my throat, I gag and my mouth closes around his shaft instinctively, not biting but sucking him down deeper. My hands tear his jeans down his hips a little further so I can cup his balls.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Malcolm roars with a hard slap of his palm on the door that startles a moan from me. “Please, Naomi,” he begs, the only time I’ve ever heard him beg when he lets go of the base of his cock to grab the back of my head and hold it still. He shoves himself deeper into my mouth before retreating slowly with me sucking him so hard he grunts in pleasure. That’s when his control snaps.
Malcolm’s hips take over, and then he’s using my mouth however the hell he wants, and there’s nothing I would change. Tears run down my cheeks and mix with the drool from my mouth when Malcolm pins the back of my head to the door. I have no choice but to accept what he forcefully gives me of himself. At one point, he freezes with my nose pressed to his fuzzy pelvis and nowhere to go. Looking up at him as I hold my breath, I meet Malcolm’s green eyes that are so heavy-lidded and dark they almost look black. His balls I’m still playing with are now pulled up tight to his body, telling me he’s not going to last much longer.
“Swallow,” he instructs me, and I follow his command. I would do anything this man asked me to do. “Again. Again. Ah-ah-again…” he trails off right before his entire body jerks and I taste his thick seed running down the back of my full throat. Once more his hips begin to buck furiously as he shouts my name like a curse and bangs his fist against the door. When I glance up, he’s watching me as he rambles like I’ve never heard him do before.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck me, that’s so good, honey. Take it all, every drop. All your fault for draining me dry.” He curses some more and then asks, “Are you wet?”
“Mmm-mm,” I agree with a nod without taking my mouth off of him.
“Yeah? Show me. Fingers in your panties. Now, honey!” he demands when I take my time. “Rub that tight little pussy until I can remind it who it belongs to.”
I finally get my fingers down into the fabric, and they sink right inside I’m so turned on, making me moan around Malcolm’s girth.
“Your sexy mouth stays on my dick until you come, you hear me?”
I nod and hum my agreement, making his cock twitch before I pull my damp fingers out to tease my swollen clit.
“That feel good?” he asks as he keeps thrusting slowly, lazily in and out of my mouth, and I answer in the affirmative even though he already knows it does. I just think he loves the humming. “Better than my hand?”
I hum again and he grins down at me, causing butterflies to flutter around my belly. “Liar. If it were my fingers in your panties, you would’ve soaked through them by now. Hurry up and get yourself off so I can lick you clean.”
The mention of his tongue between my legs causes my pussy walls to clench. God, he’s so good at licking pussy that it should be illegal.
“That’s right,” Malcolm says, urging me on, knowing I’m getting close as he rolls his hips to keep his dick nice and hard in my warm, wet mouth. “I’m gonna handcuf
f you to my bed again so I can eat that pussy all night long. Your legs will shake so many times you won’t be able to stand on them tomorrow.”
I was doing good, right on the edge until he said the last word – tomorrow. Tomorrow’s our last night together.
Reaching down to lift my chin, Malcolm says, “All you need to worry about is tonight. Right now. While I’m devouring your pussy, I’m gonna be fingering your tight asshole so I can take it before the sun comes up.”
And my orgasm is back thanks to that threat. I’ve never had anal with anyone before, but the idea of being tied up while Malcolm licks me and stretches me is exciting. I can’t wait to see what happens, because I know that anything Malcolm does to my body will feel good.
My fingers move faster on my clit, and he notices. “You like that idea?”
I moan around his cock and close my eyes as my pleasure builds and builds until my orgasm finally explodes like a rocket out of me.
“Fuck,” I hear Malcolm say as I start to come back down and he finally withdraws his dick from my mouth. “I knew it. Your mouth has ruined me.”
“I’m…not…apologizing,” I tell him between gasps as I swipe my fingers over my lips to dry them.
“Of course not,” he mutters. “And I’m not going to apologize for how I’m about to rip apart those yellow panties to get my mouth on your cunt.”
“About time too. My jaw may never close right again,” I joke, opening and closing it a few times.
“That mouth of yours is dangerous. Downright lethal. And I fucking love it,” Malcolm says, not even flinching over his use of the l-word.
“You just love my lack of a gag reflex,” I tell him as I start untying his boots to get them and his jeans all the way off.
“That too,” he agrees while removing his cut and shirt over his head in one move, then tossing them to the floor. “It’s impressive; but if I think about it too long, I may put a hole through the fucking wall.”
“Naked and jealous is a good look on you, Malcolm,” I tell him honestly as I let my eyes roam up his tattooed and muscular body.
My hands freeze on his second boot when he says, “I’m sure it would look good on you too if you ever met the women I’ve fucked before.”
“Ugh, let’s not talk about that.”
Malcolm reaches down and pulls me to my feet. “I wish it had been me,” he says, his big hand grasping my jaw as his eyes hold mine. “I wish it had been me that first day in the bar.”
“Me too,” I tell him honestly.
For a few silent seconds, I think he’s going to say something else, something else sweet, like maybe declare his love for me. But instead, he hefts me up and over his shoulder without another word, and then neither of us are able to speak the English language for the rest of the night as Malcolm makes good on his threat.
Chapter Nineteen
Malcolm
* * *
I get an earful from my boys the next day. Bobby G. and his crew split as soon as the boat docked last night; and needless to say, the merger was dead on arrival. I’m starting to think the guys may be right. When it comes to Naomi, I lose my cool and can’t think straight. If I keep fucking things up because of her, I won’t last as president. And the MC? Well, it’s the only fucking family I’ve ever had. Nothing is more important to me. I refuse to sit around and watch it crumble from the inside out like the Ace of Spades MC did.
I need to make better decisions. Rational decisions that don’t have anything to do with who I’m sleeping with every night.
Besides, my time with Naomi is almost over. We only have one more night together before our deal comes to an end. Then we’re done and over. She’ll go her way with the debt to Harry paid, and I’ll stop thinking with my dick and start using my head to run shit again.
It sucks because I’m not ready to give her up yet. And the worst part is that I’m not sure if I would ever get enough of her even if I had years with her.
She’s the best woman I’ve ever had in and out of bed.
While it won’t be easy to forget her, I have no choice but to get the hell over her.
Naomi
* * *
Something happened earlier today in the Aces’ most recent meeting. I don’t think it was anything good based on the way Malcolm’s been watching me during my shift and putting away so much Jack Daniels that Ronnie seems worried we might run out.
“Everything okay?” I ask when I walk up to him at the bar and stand between his spread legs.
“Today’s the end of your two weeks,” Malcolm says coolly, keeping one hand on his bottle of Jack and the other on top of his thigh.
“Yeah, it is,” I reply. I never would’ve thought that I could have so much fun with the outlaw biker. Now I’m glad I got caught stealing from him. “Should we celebrate hard tonight?”
“Tonight you need to come by the house and get your things,” he says, throwing back the rest of his whiskey in one gulp.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“The two weeks are up, so you need to move on, find work someplace else.”
Putting my hand on my cocked hip, I say, “You want me to move on?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you saying you want me to move on from you too?”
“That’s right, honey. Move the fuck on,” he slurs, the effects of the alcohol showing. “We’re done. Time for you to get the hell off this gravy train.”
Wow. I can’t believe he just said that.
“So, the last two weeks were just satisfying a deal to you? Just fucking, nothing more?” I ask as tears blur my vision. His silence speaks volumes. “Wow, Malcolm. Guess I was wrong about you after all.”
“Guess you were,” he mutters, making me even angrier since he looks like he could care less that we’re done and over.
“If we’re done, does that mean I’m free to go back to fucking Fiasco?” I ask, trying to get some sort of response out of him.
One minute the empty bottle of Jack is there, and the next it’s busting against the far wall as Malcolm jumps to his feet. “You stay the hell away from him!”
“Why do you care?” I ask. “Our two weeks are up and you’re done with me.”
“I’m serious, Naomi,” he warns me.
“Maybe you two should fight again and see if he can win a turn to use me as his blowup doll for two weeks or two months.”
“Don’t fucking test me, woman.”
“Or I could go sleep with the other four members of your MC, give them all a test drive to see who the best fuck is...”
He grabs my necklace to pull my face to his so swiftly that it snaps the clasp and he’s left holding the charm and chain. “You are going to stay the hell away from all of us, do you hear me?”
“Fuck you, Malcolm,” I seethe. “What Harry said about you was true. You are a cold, heartless bastard who deserved to be robbed.”
Without another word, I storm off to the bathroom in the employee lounge to hide, bawling my eyes out as I sit on the closed toilet lid crying until we dock.
Chapter Twenty
Malcolm
* * *
The next few weeks are fucking miserable. Naomi did what I told her to do — packed her shit and left without sparing me a backwards glance. My boys keep reminding me of how she was stealing from us and reassuring me that she was only after me for some easy money. They’re trying to make me feel like a sucker and an easy mark, just another guy who fell for her petty little bullshit. As the weeks pass, though, and my head clears from the drunken haze of the first lonely nights I’ve known in a long while, I start to have my doubts.
Naomi never asked me for anything.
I’m the one who made her the offer, and I’m the one who settled her debt with Harry. All of that was on me, my idea and my decision.
And her necklace with the outrageously expensive black diamonds? Well, after I broke her necklace the last night on the boat, she didn’t even try to take it with her.
&nbs
p; I keep trying to play back every interaction I had with Naomi in my head, and I’m convinced she never asked me for a dime. Yeah, she signed on with us with the intention of stealing, but she didn’t know me from Jesus H. Christ at the time. Once she did, she never tried to run any scam on me.
I’ve gotten so used to the kinds of chicks that hang around the MC, looking to trap a brother with their pussies for an easy paycheck, that I’ve become cynical. Yeah, Naomi was in a fucked-up situation when we first met; but the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced there was more to her. More to us.
Now, if I only knew how to express that to her, or how to even begin sorting out the way I feel in her absence.
Naomi
* * *
Fuck Malcolm Hyde. Fuck his temper-tantrums, fuck his club, fuck his bike, fuck his little house, fuck his beautiful hair, fuck the way he made me feel when I wrapped my arms around his waist and rode on the back of his motorcycle, fuck the way he made me feel when he wrapped his arms around my waist and rode me so goddamned well…
“Shit!” I cry out as I sit on my couch in my empty house. It’s not working. I keep trying to get angry at him, to hate him for sending me away, but all I keep coming back to are good memories. Great memories, actually, of the time we spent together and what I was sure was something … something … god, I don’t know. A relationship? After the way we started things off together? That would be impossible.
He could never trust me after the things I had done. Thinking about him all the time, even dreaming about him as I sleep, won’t change things.
The next morning, almost three weeks after I walked out of Malcolm’s house, I finally decide while I’m brushing my teeth that I’m going to forget about my beautiful, bad-ass biker crush and get on with my fucking life. No matter how bad it makes me feel, no matter how much it twists my guts up or how nauseous the thought makes me, I have to let him go.
