He Doesn’t Care_Fourstroke Fiends MC

by Naomi West

  “I just mean, take me upstairs and you can have your way with me in the privacy of my room,” I said. “Whatever you want to do with me.” Of course, I had some ideas for things I'd like him to do to me, but…

  He shook his head, but he obediently carried me up the stairs and along the hallway, following my hushed directions until we came to my room. He hardly spared a glance for the furnishings, just focused on locking the door behind us so that Cole — or worse, my parents — didn't come barging in on us.

  When he turned back around, I was already stripped down to nothing, eyeing him with a crooked grin. “Well?” I asked cheekily. “You have some catching up to—” I broke off with a gasp as he practically tackled me back against the bed. “Jake!” I cried, giggling. I tugged at his shirt, trying unsuccessfully to get him naked as he pinned me there, kissing me with an all-consuming passion the surprised both of us, I think.

  Our tongues battled against one another, and I wondered for a moment whether we were fighting or coming together in perfect union. I had never felt anything like this before, and as good physically as our love-making had been the other day in the shower, this was … well...

  This was us coming together, totally and completely, perfectly complementing one another. I practically melted back against the sheets. How perfect would it be, to have amazing sex like this for the rest of my life, with a man who really supported me, who was damnably sexy, and who was the father of my kid on top of that? It felt like I was just a little too lucky, but sometimes things happened that way.

  I finally managed to get Jake's shirt off him, but his pants were still there between us. Although I initially wanted to complain at the extra layers between us, hampering our contact, I swallowed back that protest as he rocked against me, dragging the silky fabric of his slacks along the velveteen folds between my legs. He caressed my body, his hands sending searing bolts of pleasure straight to my core. He cupped my breasts, rolling them in his hands and brushing his fingertips across the sensitive skin there. Then, he used his tongue to trace a line from my neck all the way down to my navel.

  I could feel him glide his fingers down the same path, treading the line between tickling me and turning me on even more. His fingers didn't stop at my navel, though, but dipped even lower, coming up between my legs and gliding straight into my crevice. They explored the moisture there, slithering through my pools and playing with my arousal.

  “Jake,” I groaned, trying to keep it down because even though I knew there was no way my parents or Cole could hear us, I still had some sense of propriety.

  He grinned up at me, nuzzling against my hip, still working his fingers. They curled inside of me, skimming deeper and deeper, preparing me for his fullness.

  When he pulled away from me, I couldn't help whining at the loss of contact, which only made him grin more widely. “Patience,” he told me, as though he weren't the model of impatience himself at the moment, with his erection still straining against his slacks, looking as though it might burst through at any point.

  He slipped off the bed for a moment, causing the bed to dip. He made quick work of removing the remainder of his clothing, and I eyed his muscular form, shaking my head. “I swear, you get more fit each time I sleep with you,” I said stupidly.

  He snorted. “Probably not true, but I'm glad you think so,” he said.

  He crawled back across the bed and bore down on me, positioning himself so that his rod was pressed to my entrance. There, he paused, though, looking seriously at me, and I groaned, wriggling against the sheets in an attempt to get him inside of me. But he grabbed my hips, holding me still.

  “Halley. Halley, wait,” he said, and there was something in his tone that made me stop and actually listen to him for a moment.

  “What's wrong?” I asked him. Was he still thinking about my parents? Was he thinking that this wouldn't work? That he didn't actually want this?

  “Nothing's wrong,” Jake said, though, shaking his head. “Just ... I love you, Halley. I just wanted to say that, before we got too caught up in all of this. I love you.”

  I blinked up at him and then smiled, relaxing back against the sheets. “Oh Jake,” I said, shaking my head in amusement. “I love you too, you goof. Now take me, please.”

  Jake plunged into me without further ado, sinking deep inside of my warmth. He penetrated to my very core, delving deep and filling me up in every sense of the word. We surged together, our movements sure and steady against one another's, as though we'd been doing this for years. There was none of the awkwardness that comes when you first start sleeping with someone new. There was none of the nervousness or the anxiety. It was just the two of us, coming together, working towards mutual satisfaction.

  He brushed feather-light touches along my body, and I responded by circling his body with my arms, dragging my fingernails down his back, excited by the goosebumps that erupted across his skin as I did that. My core was practically aching with desire, tingling with my need.

  When Jake gyrated his hips, I cried out a little louder than I would have liked to, and I blushed with embarrassment. “I thought you hinted that your parents wouldn't hear,” he said, his breath tickling my ear as he leaned in close, his voice low.

  I mewled as he continued to repeat the action, and I struggled to find the words to respond to him with. It was difficult, though, when he was basically turning my brain into mush. God, it just felt so good.

  “You like that, hmm?” he asked, grinning at me. Then, he changed the pace again, lingering a little as he pulled out before he speared back into me.

  And it was that pace, that forceful movement over me, that had me coming hard enough that I could practically see stars. I gasped, clinging to him, twisting my face to the side against the pillow but not really feeling that it was there. It was all so much, so incredibly much. And to feel him coming at the same time as me, his hips stuttering as well, his seed spilling deep inside of me, as I continued to feel the little aftershocks and prickles of pleasure darting across my skin…

  I fell utterly slack against the sheets and wasn't surprised when he collapsed down against me, a comforting weight. In a minute or two, it would get to be too much and we would peel apart, sticky and sweaty and already starting to feel gross. But for not, I held on to him, and he traced light touches along my curves, and I couldn't help smiling there in the darkness.

  “I love you,” I told him softly, the words hanging there in the air.

  “I love you too,” he murmured in response, sounding just as fucked-out as I did.

  I relaxed even further at those words, feeling sleep already beginning to claim me.

  Epilogue

  Cole was the first one out of the car when we pulled up in front of the house, darting out onto the lawn already. Not far behind him was Maverick, the black lab-slash-German shepherd that Bryce had given him for his eighth birthday a couple months before. The dog ran yipping around the yard, and Cole ran right around with him.

  I got out of the car, laughing at their antics, and smiled over at Jake. “Well, here we are,” I said quietly.

  “Here we are,” he agreed.

  It was strange to think that after less than a year of really knowing him, we were already moving into our own house together. But then again, we'd been “engaged” practically since I'd come back into his life. And we'd been officially engaged for about three months now, ever since my parents had finally thawed a little about our relationship. Of course, that thawing had been helped along by…

  “Here, let me get that,” Jake said, pulling the suitcase away before I could get to it. “I don't want you carrying anything heavy in your state.”

  I rolled my eyes a little, although secretly I was pleased by the way he had been treating me. “Jake, I'm pregnant, not decrepit. I'm not even showing yet. I think I can carry a suitcase!”

  “Come on, you can help me with … well, you can tell me where all the boxes go, how about that?” he asked. He grinned at me. “The
sooner we get all of these things put away in the right rooms, the sooner we can…” He trailed off, wagging his eyebrows suggestively, and I laughed, shaking my head.

  “We've already got the one kid and another on the way,” I reminded him.

  “All the more reason to do things now, before the other one gets here!” he said. “I know what it's like to live in a place where there are screaming babies around. Everyone is always exhausted, and they probably aren't going to do sexy things in bed...”

  I snorted. “All right, all right, you've convinced me. Let's get these things inside.”

  Cole ran over, Maverick hot on his heels. “Can I help?” he asked, ever the polite gentleman.

  “Sure, buddy,” Jake said. “Here, can you get this box or is it too heavy.”

  “It's really light!” Cole said, beaming up at his dad.

  I had thought the kid would be a bit more fazed to learn that Jake was actually his real dad and that we were going to be moving, but apparently with all the weird things on TV these days, they covered all of that kind of stuff. I thought back to the conversation that we'd had…

  Cole was sitting in the living room, doing his homework with the TV on in the background. I didn't usually let him have the TV on, but there was football game on that Jake was watching when he wasn't on the phone — which seemed to be happening a lot that day, but I no longer really let it bother me, and I didn't try to listen in.

  When Jake got off the phone and halftime started, we muted the TV and sat down next to Cole, one of us on either side of him. Cole immediately looked suspicious. “I don't know what you think I did, but I didn't do it ... probably,” he announced.

  I grinned a little at that, although mentally I made a note to keep an eye out for whatever it was that he had done that he thought that we had already found out about. “We're not here to punish you, Cole,” I told him. “We just had some big boy stuff that we wanted to discuss with you if that's okay.”

  “Okay,” he said, sitting up a little. “I'm almost done with my math homework.”

  “Good job, buddy,” Jake said, eyeing the paper. I knew he was still so proud of Cole and his homework. Jake had never been very good in school, a symptom of moving around from foster home to foster home and always having different curriculum to learn, so he was impressed with Cole's ability to really stay on top of his grades and do a good job.

  “Honey, remember that time that we had the conversation about Brian and how he wasn't really your daddy?” I asked, and Cole nodded. I took a deep breath. “Well, I don't know if you know this, but Jake is really your daddy.”

  Cole shrugged a little. “Okay,” he said. He looked at Jake. “Does that mean you're going to teach me to ride a motorcycle? Because all the kids at school think that your motorcycle is really cool. I drew a picture for show and tell!”

  Jake laughed and gave me an apologetic look. “Maybe someday,” he agreed. “But not until you've graduated college.”

  Cole pouted a little at that but then sighed. “Fine. But will you at least teach me how to throw a baseball better? Matt Dickinson always gets to be pitcher for our games because everyone knows he throws the ball the hardest, but I want to get to be pitcher sometimes too.”

  We were both suppressing laughter at how blasé he was about this. “Sure thing, buddy,” Jake said. “We can work on that. Now that the weather's nice and warm when you get home from school, we should go practice a few times a week, and I'm sure you'll get better in no time—how does that sound?”

  “Good,” Cole said.

  We continued sitting there, as I mustered up the courage to say what I had to say next, and Cole finally rolled his eyes impatiently. “Mom, why are you still sitting here?” he asked. “I have to finish my homework.”

  I laughed a little and pulled the little munchkin sideways into a hug. “Well, the other thing that your dad and I wanted to talk to you about is that we're going to be moving. Just you and I and Jake, into this nice little house that's not too far from here. So, we'll still be able to come back and see grandma and grandpa a lot, but you will have to move schools next year.”

  “Oh,” Cole said. He shrugged again and pulled his math homework back towards him. “Well, I already know that.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised.

  “How?” Jake asked.

  “Grandma told me the other day. She told me that it was a secret and that I wasn't supposed to tell you that I knew, but I did.” He scrunched up his face. “She didn't say it on purpose or anything, I was just talking about the teachers that I would have next year and she told me that I might have different teachers and when I asked what she was talking about or if Ms. Rosen was getting fired or something, she told me. But that's okay. She told me it means I get to make even more friends, and that sounds like fun.”

  “Well good,” I said, shaking my head a little. Of course, my mother had already told him that we were moving; I shouldn't be surprised. Really, Jake and I had been meaning to talk to him sooner, but I'd been afraid that this conversation would be more difficult than that.

  I got up off the floor, and Jake stood as well. “Well, if there's anything that you want to talk to us about, buddy…” Jake said.

  “I know, I know,” Cole said, rolling his eyes. “Dad, it's fine.”

  Jake looked a bit stricken at the name, and I was taken aback with how quickly the kid had adopted that. But then again, he'd been so fine with it that I had to wonder if that was another secret that Grandma had spoiled. Or maybe he had just worked it out on his own; he was a smart kid.

  I smiled at Jake and held out my hand to him, glad that everything finally seemed to be falling into place for us.

  And now that we were finally in our house together, it felt even more that way. The place was a bit small still, but it would do for now. Of course, if we had any more children, things would be a bit tight, but we'd cross that bridge when we got to it. For now, it was big enough for us and Cole, plus a nursery for the new baby. And it had a big yard for the kids and Maverick to play in.

  What I really loved about the house was the sunny, yellow kitchen. And there was plenty of space in the garage for both Jake's car and his bike. There were good schools in the area, and really, everything seemed perfect.

  “You all right?” Jake asked, coming to stand behind me as I stared out the kitchen window into the backyard, watching Cole and Maverick playing fetch. He wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder and his hands across my stomach, which wasn't growing yet but would be soon.

  “Yeah,” I said, smiling happily. For the first time since I'd found out that I was pregnant with Cole, it felt as though maybe my life was on the right track. “Yeah, everything's just ... perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

  “Good,” Jake told me. He lightly kissed the side of my neck, and I could feel his smile against my skin.

  THE END

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  Ride Dirty: Vegas Vipers MC

  By Naomi West

  I’LL RIDE HER DIRTY WHILE THE WHOLE WORLD BURNS.

  The last thing I need is a distraction.

  But how can I say no to a naked stripper tempting me to her bed?

  I should’ve known that Honey would be trouble.

  I should’ve known she was telling lies.

  I should’ve known, deep down, that she was somehow responsible for the chaos tearing apart my city and killing my men.

  But I let my guard down and I let her distract me.

  So, now…

  It’s time to make her pay.

  Chapter One

  Honey

  The dressing room at Fantasies Strip Club was as frantic as a beehive—thoug
h a beehive full of young, nearly-nude women. Girls darted from here to there, taking places in front of brightly-lit vanity mirrors, snatching scandalous clothing off of hangers, and getting their faces painted up for the evening ahead.

  Honey Lewis couldn’t help but get sucked into the energy of a Friday night before the peak hours. She wasn’t crazy about the job—it did involve taking her clothes off for strange men, after all—but something about seeing all the girls zip around, frantically getting ready as they sipped drinks and gossiped, it always ended up putting her in the right mood for the night ahead.

  “Better grab a spot quick, girlie,” said Bethany Belle, a fellow stripper and probably the closest thing Honey had to a best friend here at Fantasies.

  “No kidding,” said Honey, watching as the girls took up just about every available vanity, leaning in close to the mirrors as they slathered on the makeup.