Wayward Deviance (Wayward Saints MC Book 8)

by K. Renee

  “Not that I let little girls play with,” he answers, dipping his head down to my collarbone. He runs his tongue along my skin softly before he nips at the skin there. A touch of pain hits my body and my back arches into his body. The grin on his face gets wider before he sucks away the pain.

  “Oh God,” I moan as he runs his fingers down my back toward my ass. I’m only dressed in one of his tee shirts, and it doesn’t take him long to pull it up high enough for him to get access to my ass and pussy.

  His fingers dip inside of me, and I grind up against him like a cat in heat. It’s almost embarrassing how much he turns me on. One of his hands slides up my stomach, and he squeezes my tit before kissing me hard on the mouth.

  We are a mess of teeth, lips, and tongues by the time he’s pulling the shirt up. He pulls away so he can get his shirt off of me before he gets off of the bed completely.

  I watch him walk towards his dresser before he reaches in to grab something. The crop he pulls out is black and red, and as he walks back over toward me, he sheds his jeans on the ground. I can’t help but stare at the crop in his hand. I’ve seen them before in sex shops, but have never felt one hit me.

  “Up,” he orders. I get to my hands and knees on the bed. He motions for me to spin around and I do it without a second thought. I don’t know why, but I trust him. He would never hurt me on purpose, that much I know about him. He may like pain, but he wouldn’t subject me to it if I didn’t like it.

  “Ass in the air and grab your ankles.” I do as I’m told, trying to find the most comfortable position for me to lay my face against the center of the mattress. “I’m going to show you just how fucking good it feels before I let you hit me.” I feel my body heat at that. I wonder how many women he’s let hit him with that.

  Before I can think any more about it, the sound of the crop flinging through the air, and the feel of the sting as it hits my skin. My body lurches forward, and I gasp at the feel. It’s a mixture of pain and pleasure, and I don’t know how I feel about it exactly. Before I can get my bearings again, he hits me again on the other ass cheek this time.

  My back arches and I let out a little moan. He hits me a few more times and it feels better each time, and it doesn’t take long before I can feel how wet I’m getting just by this. If this feels this damn good, how come I never tried before now?

  He rubs his hand against my sore ass before he dips his fingers between my thighs and discovers just how wet it made me. “Fuck, you like that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I whisper as he sinks two fingers inside of me. I moan at the feel of him filling me, and I want more. “Please,” I beg when he doesn’t give me anything more than his two fingers. He pumps them in and out of me quickly, bringing me closer toward the edge, but when I get ready to fall over, he stops all movement and pulls his fingers from me.

  His palm comes down on my ass, and I bite my shoulder to keep from moaning again.

  "Sit up." His demands are hot as hell, but what he says next is what does me in. He pulls me off the bed to stand next to him before he kisses me. Once he pulls away, he sits on the edge of the bed before handing me the crop.

  I stare at him in shock as he takes a deep breath before looking back at me.

  I don’t move because part of me is afraid to. The other part of me wants to hit him with the damn crop. I know we shouldn’t be having sex right now with everything that has happened, but I’m craving it. I’m craving him and all that it entails being by his side.

  He motions for me to come closer. I stand between his thighs as he runs his fingers up the back of my legs. “What do you want me to do?” I finally ask when he doesn’t say a word. It’s almost like he’s preparing himself for what he wants me to do.

  “I want you to hit me with this.” His fingertip runs along the tip of the crop, and I just watch him. He takes my hand and flicks his wrist, showing me just how hard he wants me to hit him.

  The crack of the crop hitting him causes me to flinch. It sounds like I’m hitting him hard, but he doesn’t look like he’s in pain at all. He moves our hands, forcing us to hit him again, this time in his thigh. Every time he moves us, I can’t help but watch in fascination. After a few more hits, he releases me and pulls me to him.

  His eyes are dilated, and his breathing is ragged. I bend down and press my mouth to his, kissing him like my life depends on it. He pulls me into his lap, and I can feel how hard he is now. Wrapping my legs around him, I let him take control. I know he needs it.

  He lines us up and slams into me, stealing my breath from inside my chest. Every thrust of his hips feels like he’s going to break me in half. His mouth ghosts over my chest and my neck and when I get close, I whimper out the words, “I’m going to come.” My breathing hitches and I clamp around him tightly. My nails dig into his back, and I sink my teeth into his shoulder as I come.

  “Fuck, Brynn,” he bites out as he squeezes me tighter. We fall back onto the bed, and I can feel the sweat that has gathered along my spine. His hands run through it, but it doesn’t even faze him.

  “That was…” I don’t even know how to describe what just happened. He let me hit him with a crop. The same way that he hit me with it.

  “It was fucking good,” he laughs. “So fucking good.”

  I pull back slightly, and he looks almost peaceful. The demons that I generally see in his expression are gone, and he looks happy.

  “That’s what you like?” I ask, tracing the tattoo on his chest. The Wayward Saint patch is something that I figured out was tattooed on all the members somewhere on their body. Everyone seems to have theirs in different places, but I like where Bentley put his. It’s above his heart. The tattoo on his forearm flexes when he moves his arm behind his head. For I am my brother’s keeper.

  “What is this tattoo for?” I reach up and trace my finger along the words on one of his forearms.

  "Just like it says, for I am my brother's keeper." I narrow my eyes at him because he doesn't give me a real answer. I want him to tell me why he put that on his body.

  “Whatever.” I try to roll off of him, but he stops me.

  “Don’t.” He leans forward and presses his mouth to mine, kissing me until I all but forget my own name. When he pulls away, he starts to tell me what it means to him. “I got it because I stand behind my brothers, blood and club. I will protect them at all costs and do everything in my power to make sure they are okay. I will kill for them and anyone else in the club.”

  A shiver climbs my spine, and I swallow around the lump in my throat. "Have you killed someone?" I know he doesn't like talking about what he does for the club, but I need to know the truth. I need to know how dangerous this life is.

  If my father left it, it must have been bad back then. I doubt it would change much over the years.

  “Yes.” My body goes cold at his words, but I don’t pull away from him. I stay right where I am as I try to process what he just admitted to.

  "Who?" I don't even know why I ask the question. I don't want to know that he is capable of killing someone.

  "No one you need to worry about. I'm just going to tell you this; I've killed men that threatened my family or put them in harm's way. I don’t regret a damn thing I’ve done for this club. I warned you that it wasn’t a pretty life with me, that I would ruin you. I wasn’t fucking lying about that. I’m not a good man. I like sex to be painful. I kill people who cross my family. I make no excuses for being the man I am and I never will.” He moves out from under me and stands up.

  I watch him grab his jeans and pull them on. I am still in shock that I can't even move. I can't even think about anything he just admitted to. He isn't the man I've always thought that he was. I had played them all up to be good guys. Guys that were safe and protective to an extent.

  He doesn't say another word as he makes his way over to his dresser to pull on a pair of socks and his boots. He grabs a tee and pulls it over his head before he walks out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
The echo of the door slamming fills my ears, and I just stare at it in surprise.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Bentley

  I shouldn’t have walked away from her, but if I didn’t, I would have said something I regretted. I've already spent the last two years without her; I won't spend any more with her on some other dick’s arm.

  I hit the bar first, grabbing a beer from the prospect. Taking a swig, I force myself to calm down. She’s too damn pure for the shit I do. I warned her that first night, and I swear she didn’t listen to me.

  I look across the room, and the girls are gathered together for whatever reason. Instead of getting dragged into whatever plan they are probably cooking up, I make my way toward the game room. At least up here, I can think. No one comes up here unless we have a party or lockdown.

  The minute I walk through the door, I see the rest of the guys hiding out just like I was planning on doing.

  “What? Already tired of hitting that pussy?” Seb asks with a grin on his face. I flip him the finger and take a seat next to my brother Robbie.

  “Yeah, why the fuck you up here when you could be drowning in pussy instead?” Robbie interrogates. I shove his shoulder, and he doesn’t budge. He stays right up in my business.

  "She asked what my tattoo meant. When I told her, she didn't seem all that interested in me, so I walked out.” Dom narrows his eyes at me, and I just shrug.

  “You mean to tell me you told her that you’re a dickhead and she decided that she didn’t like that after all?” I shrug again, not answering his question.

  “What tattoo?” This comes from Brant.

  I hold up my forearms and they all grimace. “You mean you told her that you would kill for us.” I nod, taking another swig of my beer.

  “Shit. I’m sure Brynn will understand. She loves you, kid,” Dom says tossing a bottle of Jack at me. “Here you probably need this more than me. My ole’ lady only wants another baby. Nothing as bad as your shit.” I knock back the rest of my beer as my brothers continue to talk around me. I don’t even bother with joining in because the only thing that is on my mind is Brynn and how to get her to see me and not the me I am with the club.

  A few hours later and we all finally emerge from the game room to see the girls all giggling together in the bar. About six bottles of wine are tipped over on the table, and a few more are still standing. Someone says something about getting fucked hard from behind before they all start giggling again.

  “Fuck,” Jase says from behind me. I look over my shoulder at him and grin. His ole’ lady is so smashed that she ends up tipping her glass over, spilling some of the wine on the floor.

  I hear Brynn laugh at something my sister says before she tips her head back and laughs harder. She is so damn beautiful. Sometimes I don’t even think she realizes it.

  Walking over to the chair she's occupying; I kiss her neck. Her hands reach up, and she tangles them into my hair, pulling my head down to her. She gives me a sloppy drunk kiss, and I can't help but smile at her. I like her the best when she doesn't have a care in the world, just like right now. She's having fun with her friends, even if that means she's getting drunk with the other ole' ladies at the clubhouse.

  “You ready to head to bed or what?” I whisper against her jaw. She closes her eyes and nods her head, not saying a word.

  “Benny, don’t you dare take my girl! You’ve had her all night and day since she got here!” my sister slurs half the words and I’m not even sure what she said exactly.

  "Too bad. It's my turn with Brynn again. I have a lot of time to make up for." I run my hand along her throat, and she moans quietly. I know I'm going to win her if I keep kissing her. She won't be able to refuse me.

  “No!” my sister squeals, but Brant steps in and wraps his arms around her.

  “Yeah, I got plans for you anyway,” he says in her ear, but loud enough for the rest of us to hear him.

  "Mhm I like the sound of that," she giggles. I just shake my head at her, but glad that he stepped in and got her one-track mind on something other than Brynn. I notice Sailor out of the corner of my eye watching the four of us, and I see a look of longing pass over her features. I know she misses the shit out of my brother and I wish shit would have gone down differently. I would have given anything to take his place that day.

  He would have got to meet his son. The little boy that looks so much like his daddy that it's crazy. I know my brother is watching us right now, watching over Sailor and that little boy. Maybe with some time, she will be able to move on. Find someone new and be happy just like Raef wanted. He gave up his life so she could live hers without having to look over her shoulder the rest of her life.

  He saved our old man that day too. Taking a bullet to the chest was his sacrifice, but I know that he didn't regret it. Every single one of us would have taken that bullet for Pres. He is the reason most of us are here and in this family. He's what has kept us going even after Raef's death.

  We may disagree more times than not, but I would be lost without him. The man I will always idolize until my dying breath.

  Sailor notices me watching her, and she gives me a somewhat reassuring smile. She hates when we feel sorry for her and tries not to show us how vulnerable she is. How lost she feels now that he isn't here with her. We accepted her into our family even when she didn't want anything to do with us. Part of it was the grief, and the other part was the anger. I know that she blames us for his death, and fuck, most days so do I.

  We didn't plan shit the way we normally do. We made shortcuts, and ultimately it led to his death. I wish we wouldn't have, but we ran out of time.

  I can feel myself start to break.

  I need to get the fuck out of this room. I grab Brynn’s hand to pull her to stand, but she pulls away from me quickly and almost falls to the ground. I catch her before she hits the floor. I pull her up to my body and all but drag her off to my room. I need to get behind closed doors.

  Once I get the door shut, I release her and fall to my knees. I cover my face with my hands and try to suck in deep breaths, but it doesn’t help. All the memories of my brother taking that bullet hit me at once. I’m brought back to that day.

  The sounds of gunshots going off around me are all I can hear. I cover my ears and hunch over even further, putting my head on my knees. A hand lands on my back and I barely register it.

  “Bentley,” she sounds scared, but I can’t force myself to look at her. I’m still stuck in the damn memory with no way of escaping it.

  Watching Raef run right at our father, taking that fucking bullet that wasn't meant for him. Tears start to fall down my face, and a sob escapes from my throat. "Bentley, please tell me what's going on?" Her hands go to my face, and she cups my cheeks. "Please," a broken whisper falls from her lips.

  "He's dead," I utter. The words burn me as I hear them in my ears. The grief takes over, and nothing else comes out. Brynn wraps her arms around my neck, and she holds me to her chest. She doesn't say a word, she just holds me.

  I break down in her arms. As all the memories of Raef's death hit me like a ton of bricks, she whispers that it's going to be okay. She tells me that the pain will slowly disappear as time goes on, but I know it won't. It's been two and a half years, and it still hurts just like it did the day it happened.

  We lay on the shitty carpet in my room for hours, not moving. Brynn never releases her hold on me, and I'm thankful for that. I'm not one for showing my emotions to a woman, but there was nothing that I could do to stop the memories as they flooded into my head.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur to her when the emotions finally fade. We are still laying on the shitty carpet still, facing each other, not letting go.

  She wipes a stray tear from under my eye. "You have nothing to be sorry for Bentley." I lean forward and kiss her. I never talk about my problems or emotions, and I don't want to start now. I just hope she gets that. She's lost a brother, and she might be the only one who understands.

&
nbsp; My brothers and old man want to talk about Raef, but I can't. Anslie can barely mention his name before she falls apart. Time doesn't heal. Anyone who believes that has never watched their brother take a bullet in front of them.

  "I don't break down like this. I don't show weakness." Brynn links our fingers together in front of us, and she holds our hands up in front of us.

  “It’s not a weakness. You miss your brother, that isn’t a crime. You deserve to grieve his death. Trust me, I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to lose someone. Don’t ever beat yourself up for breaking down. He is your brother.”

  My hand cups her neck and I pull her closer to me. “I don’t deserve you.”

  "You really don't." A grin forms across her lips and I can't help but chuckle. She may be innocent in most aspects, but she has been through heartbreak too.

  "Please don't leave. I know I can be an asshole more times than not, but I need you." She closes her eyes briefly, and when she opens them, I can see the tears pooling in them.

  "You are the biggest asshole I know, but I believe in you. My head tells me to stay away, but my heart breaks just thinking about being without you for the rest of my life."

  "Good, follow your heart then." I press a kiss to her nose, and she wrinkles it.

  “That was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard. I didn’t know you had a cheesy side to you. I always thought you only knew asshole and caveman.” I grin and pull her face to mine, kissing her to silence her.

  "I can show you caveman any time, don't you worry about that." Grabbing her ass, I pull her body closer to mine. We don't do anything more than this; we just continue to lay on the dirty floor, not doing anything other than talking and kissing. She asks me my favorite memories that I have of Raef, and we laugh and cry together. I get her to tell me a little about her brother, and I feel the pain in her voice as she tells me about him.

  We end up falling asleep on that damn ground, but I don’t regret a moment of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two