Link'd Up (Dead Presidents MC Book 1)
Page 10
“So? Does that matter? Does it change the way I feel about you? The way I know you feel about me?”
She opened her mouth again, and then snapped it shut and glanced at Annabel and Jayson, as if suddenly remembering they were there. “We should talk about this later.”
“Fine, but don’t dismiss my role in your life because you’re uncomfortable. You’re better than that. You’re a fuckin’ queen and you shouldn’t give a damn about anyone’s opinion.”
Her gaze locked with mine, and the emotions raging behind her eyes were too complex and layered for me to peg down. Anger, gratitude, respect, fear, passion, it all lingered beneath her professional composure, begging to be freed.
And my god, I wanted to free her.
“Complicated,” Emily admitted, finally, releasing my gaze to answer Annabel. “Our relationship is complicated.”
“And hot as hell,” Jayson said, fanning himself with his menu. “The sparks coming off you two are liable to burn us all up. Man, I need to find myself a big, sexy biker.”
Annabel watched me thoughtfully, sipping her water. “Link? Such an unusual name. Is it a nickname?”
My blood was still boiling. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down before answering, “Tyler Lincoln’s the name my mom gave me. Link’s what the club calls me.”
She nodded. “My Andrew was an architect. Probably twenty years ago now, he did some volunteer work for a man by the name of Jacob Lincoln. Any relation?”
Taken by surprise, I felt the last bit of anger leak out of me. “That’s my pops. Twenty years ago? Did your husband help with the fire station remodel?”
“Yes. He was a Navy veteran and happy to do it. Had nothing but good things to say about your father and the club. Is he still the club president?”
“No ma’am. He retired a few years back. He’s still an active member, but didn’t want the hassle anymore. He and my step-mother have been doing a little traveling.”
“Good to hear.” Her gaze took in the patches on my cut. “Oh, you’re the president now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And you served in the Army?”
“Yes ma’am. Special Forces, just like Pops.”
The waitress stopped by to take our orders while I made a mental note to ask Pop about Emily’s grandpa. When the waitress left, Emily questioned her grandmother about some fence that had blown down.
“Jayson found me an excellent repairman,” Annabel replied. “So professional and fast. Had it back up in no time.”
The four of us fell into easy conversation until Emily and Jayson both excused themselves to use the restroom.
“She’s been alone for a long time,” Annabel said with a sad smile. “But you’re good for her. Give her time, and she’ll come around.”
Realizing this might be the best chance I had to find out more about Emily, I asked, “What happened to her parents?”
“They were killed in a car accident when Emily was ten.”
“And she’s an only child?”
“She’s an only everything. Matthew, her father, was our only child, and her mother, Elana, had some sort of falling out with her family before Emily was born. They’ve never been a part of her life. Didn’t even come to the funeral,” Annabel tutted. “I tracked Elana’s parents down and reached out to them, but they never saw fit to reply.”
“You and your husband raised Emily?”
“Sure did. She was a handful, too. We had no experience raising a girl, so we raised her just like we raised Matthew. Andrew taught her how to fish and shoot, and I taught her how to cook and clean. She’s compassionate and kind, but she doesn’t put up with any nonsense.”
Smiling, I admitted, “I noticed.”
“She’s quite the catch,” Annabel replied. “It’ll take a strong, determined man to keep her, but like you said, she’s worth it.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m aware,” I replied before Emily and Jayson rejoined us.
Emily
I’M NOT AT all ashamed to admit that I drank in order to get through brunch with Link, Jayson, and Grandma. In my defense, drinking was necessary to dull the scalding effects of Link’s intensity as he spoke about “us” like it was a done deal. Like he had me bagged, tagged, my life, career, and individuality prepped and ready for the eternal dirt nap. Not this girl. I didn’t care how hot he was, I wasn’t about to go gaga, worshiping at the altar of his satiating cock and gratifying tongue.
I was a fucking queen, after all. At least that’s what Link called me.
Marveling at the way that single title, spoken from his lips, could make me both freeze and melt, I ordered a second drink. Grandma—saint that she was—didn’t let me drink alone.
“Make that two,” she said, sipping down the last of her first mimosa.
Jayson was driving, so he stopped at one. Someone had to be responsible, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be me. I was too twisted up inside to care about things like propriety or social decorum.
By the time the waitress dropped off the check, Grandma and I were both three mimosas deep and I was much too relaxed to argue with Link when he reached for the bill.
Let him have his moment, I’d remind him who wore the crown later.
I hugged Grandma goodbye, promised Jayson I’d see him tomorrow, and let Link lead me to his bike and strap my borrowed helmet firmly on my head. The touch of his hands against my chin sent little jolts of electricity dancing through me.
“You sober enough to stay on?” he asked, searching my face.
“As long as you can keep it between the lines.”
He chuckled. “Let’s head back to your place.”
His eyes spoke of all sorts of dirty plans for when we got there, making my girly parts tingle. I nodded.
“I should keep mimosas on hand. I like you all calm and agreeable like this.”
“No, you don’t.” It was only three mimosas. I wasn’t even buzzed, just… happy, content, and so very chill. Also, honest. “You like it when I’m feisty.” Okay, maybe I was a little buzzed.
His eyes flashed with hunger as he closed the distance between us. “You’re right. I do.”
His lips mashed against mine, and we kissed. Not some little chaste peck, either. It was the deep, passionate, breath-stealing make-out session usually reserved for the bedroom—or at least the confines of a house—but we did it right there in front of the restaurant. His hands drifted down to squeeze my ass, trapping me against his growing erection. I should have been embarrassed, but our grossly inappropriate display of public affection only rekindled the fire burning inside me.
Link released me with a smirk, the pad of his thumb brushing my bottom lip before he swung his leg over the bike, giving me a good view of worn jeans thinly covering a perfect backside. My body was burning. I needed an industrial grade fire hose to douse the flames, and—despite the erection that had just been burrowing into my belly—he seemed fine.
“You coming?” he asked, still wearing that cocky smirk as he watched me over his shoulder.
Chances were good that I’d been caught watching his ass settle on the seat. I was too horny to care, so I shrugged off his question and climbed on behind him. Pressed against the firm muscles of his back with my hands tight against his flat abs, I was in heaven. He revved the engine, vibrating the seat, and the combination of his body and the bike made me damp.
Yep, I loved riding with Link.
By the time we arrived home, my nipples were hard and my panties were soaked through. Link removed my helmet and had me wait in the foyer while he checked out my house. Once he was satisfied no one was lurking in the closets, waiting to jump out and slaughter us while we were in the throes of passion, he stood in the hallway and gestured me forward.
“Come here, Emily.”
Something about his tone made me want to defy him. He wanted me to defy him, I was certain of it. Planting my feet and folding my arms, I asked, “Why, Link?”
Voice barely higher t
han a rumble, eyes dilated with lust, he said, “Don’t question me. Get your fine ass over here right now.”
My entire body shivered, and another wave of heat soaked my panties. “Why don’t you make me?”
Before the words were out of my mouth, he advanced. Squealing, I jumped back and fled. I made it a whole three steps before Link caught me, crushing my backside against his front. His erection poked against my lower back, promising a much-needed release for my aching cunt.
Brushing my hair to one side, he whispered against my neck, “You shouldn’t run, baby. It only makes me chase you. But you know that, don’t you?”
I nodded. “I’m a queen, remember? I do what I want.”
“That so?” He nipped at my neck. “You’re missing the big picture.”
“What big picture?”
“You are a queen.” With one hand, he groped at my breasts while the other slid inside my jeans, past my panties, and cupped my sex. “But I’m your fuckin’ king. That’s why you’re so wet for me.”
Fingers circled my clit, ripping a moan from my very core.
“So swollen and soaking wet. I do that to you.” He massaged my folds, teasing and pleasuring, before dipping two fingers inside me.
My walls squeezed around him, desperate for more.
His chest rumbled with laughter against my back. “I knew you’d be a freak, baby. From the first time I saw you in that courtroom, hair up in a bun, glasses on, looking so goddamn prim and proper as you ripped apart that dumbass on the stand… You like it rough, don’t you?”
His fingers curled against my sensitive walls, and I shuddered.
“But you’re used to being in control.” He nipped at my neck again. “No more. You’re in my courtroom now, and I’m the fuckin’ judge and jury. You can beg and plead, but I’m about to rip that control away from you so I can make you come so many times you’ll never call me a goddamn client again.”
A challenge! The idea of losing control made my knees weak, but I refused to give it up easily. I looked over my shoulder at him and licked my lips. “What’s wrong with being a client?”
His eyes flashed. He pulled his fingers from my dripping pussy and plunged them into my mouth. “Taste yourself. Maybe it’ll keep that sassy mouth busy until I can put something else in it.”
I jerked my body away from him, turning so we were face to face. Then I met his lust-filled gaze as I wrapped my lips tightly around his fingers and sucked them hard.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re gonna kill me.”
I was pretty sure he was going to kill me, but I would swing until the very end. He wanted to shove something in my mouth and shut me up? Only on my terms. I dropped to my knees and unzipped his pants, tugging them down. He was commando, and when I released his massive cock it sprang free and bobbed inches from my mouth. It might as well have been wearing a sign that said ‘suck me.’ He watched with hooded eyes, and I knew exactly which one of us was in charge. Cementing my control, I stroked his length and licked pre-cum from the tip before sliding him past my lips and into my mouth.
“Shit,” he breathed. “Holy fuck that feels so good.”
Cupping his balls, I continued sliding my mouth over his cock as my tongue licked up and down. He wasn’t deep enough, I released his balls and wrapped my hands around his hips, grabbing his ass for leverage to take him in until he hit the back of my throat.
Incoherent mutterings came from Link’s chest. I had taken away his power to speak. I was firmly in charge. Working my tongue around his dick and digging my nails into his ass, I encouraged him to fuck my mouth harder and deeper until I was practically gagging on the length of him. My eyes watered as I fought for breath, and it only made me wetter. Hands on the back of my head, he took over, plunging into me again and again until hot cum coated my throat.
He pulled out of me, and I sucked down air, smiling about the way I’d worked him over. One small victory for all the losses I’d suffered since his office. Before I had time to congratulate myself too much, Link stepped out of his pants, grabbed me by the waist, and picked me up until we were eye to eye.
His eyes were still dilated with lust and his breathing was almost as labored as mine. “You’re gonna pay for that, sweet cheeks,” he growled, walking me toward my bedroom.
I shuddered at the ease in which he manhandled me. My feet were inches from the floor, and it was both hot and terrifying. I may have gotten in over my head.
Link set me down on my bed and I tried to bolt, but he caught me.
“You’re just making it worse,” he promised.
Which was exactly what I’d been hoping for. Kind of.
He removed my scarf and set it aside before stripping off the rest of my clothes. When I was naked he laid me back, raised my hands above my head, and used my scarf to tie my hands to my headboard.
I’d never been tied up before. I felt strangely powerless and vulnerable as my body continued to pulse with need.
“Can you snap your fingers?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Do it. Snap.”
I did as he said.
“Good. If this gets to be too much for you to handle, if you want me to stop for any reason at all, just snap.”
He thought he’d be too much for me? I almost laughed. “I should have told you the same thing.”
“I should gag you,” he said, pinching one of my nipples. “But I want that smart mouth of yours free to beg, plead, and scream my name.”
Straddling my legs, his hands snaked down my body, softly caressing my burning skin.
“You sure do think highly of yourself,” I replied.
“Just statin’ the facts, babe. In fact, know what I’m gonna do?” he asked, his touch pausing just above my pelvis. “I’m gonna make you as crazy as you make me.”
His fingers drifted lower, ghosting my sex, teasing me. I didn’t want to be teased. I wanted him wild and reckless, pounding into me until I exploded with mind-blowing, earth-shattering pleasure.
He quirked a smile. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You want me already?”
Yes! “No.”
“You sure? You look a little… needy.”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Good. Try not to come, would ya?”
Before I could respond, his lips were on my inner thighs. He kissed, nibbled, and licked, staying at least an inch away from the part of me that was craving him most. His lips left my skin, and—thinking he would finally go where I needed him—I relaxed. Hot breath warmed my core. Cool air sent goosebumps across my entire body.
What the hell was he doing to me?
I tried to look, but between my bound hands and his weight on my legs, I was trapped. More hot, then cool. The sensation drove me crazy. I wanted it to stop. I wanted more. I had no clue what the hell I wanted.
A traitorous moan escaped from my lips.
“What’s wrong?” Link asked, standing and putting way too much distance between us.
I watched as he stroked himself, pumping his hard length with a hand. My pussy physically ached, and Link had his hand wrapped around the very thing that could help me.
“You ready for something else?’ he asked.
Heedless of the ache between my legs, I raised my chin defiantly.
He laughed. “I should deny that greedy pussy and come all over your stomach.”
No! He wouldn’t waste that erection when my body needed it so desperately. Was he really not as affected by this as I was? “You don’t want to fuck me?” I asked, disgusted by the hint of need I hadn’t been able to disguise.
More laughter. “Oh, yes, I want to fuck you.” He straddled me once again, leaning forward so the head of his engorged cock was at my entrance. Gaze hungry and desperate, he looked like he was barely holding himself back. “Make no mistake, I want to fuck every inch of you, but I need more than that. I need to possess you. To own you.”
He was so
close and both of us needed this. I bucked my hips upward, trying to take him in.
“Then fuck me,” I said.
“What?” he asked.
He knew damn well what I said. “Fuck me!” I shouted.
Shaking his head, he said, “You’re not in any position to make demands, sweet cheeks.”
I wasn’t interested in his fucking nicknames or positions. I wanted him to make me come.
The head of his cock pressed against my entrance. “You want this?”
I bucked my hips up again, but he laughed and pulled away.
“Not yet, baby. You still think you have control.”
He scooted down until his face was between my legs. Then he licked me from cunt to clit in maddeningly slow strokes. I twisted and writhed beneath his tongue, trying to force his tongue inside me. Or for him to speed up. Or for him to focus on my clit. Instead, he kept up those long slow licks. This continued for so long I thought I was going to explode.
Frustrated, I finally gave in and whispered, “Please.”
His tongue stilled, and then he pulled away. “What’s that?”
No contact was even worse than the teasing his tongue had been giving me. “Please!” I shouted.
He stared at me, and I could see his resolve crumbling. The big bad biker wasn’t nearly as in charge as he thought. His eyes told me he was every bit as desperate for release as I was.
“Please,” I repeated, softer this time. “Make me come.”
His hot mouth landed on my core, and I almost unraveled at the contact. He swirled his tongue inside me while I fought against my bonds, desperate to grab his head and hold him there until he finished the job.
So close. I was so very close.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, pulling his mouth away seconds from my release.
I growled in frustration, and the asshole laughed.
“What? I can’t understand that. Use your words.”
“I need…” I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. He knew exactly what I needed, and he was holding out on me. I’d asked. Hell, I’d basically begged. He wanted me to humble myself further? Fine. But not for him.