Bitter Sweet Deception (The Kingsmen M.C Book 4)

by Oakes, Tara

  “Come here.”

  Her shoulders straighten, clearly tense from nerves. I pull back the covers for her, my tented boxers showing as my hard cock lifts them. She slips in the bed, lithely, sliding into place next to me with the quilt sealing her in.

  She smells like mint and soap. Her lips are cold as they find mine, offering a chaste little kiss before she tries to roll over to her side.

  What the fuck? Yeah, that’s not gonna work. My woman’s never been shy in bed. Hell, she’s the first chic I’ve found that can actually keep up with me. I wrap my arm around her, hand sliding down the curve of her side, feeling the tiny bumps breaking out along her skin.

  My mouth finds her ear, latching onto the lobe, playing with it, taunting it. I know she’s fighting against herself not to give in to me. That’s OK. I know I’ll win.

  “Baby…,” she calls out, facing away from me. “I’m just really tired.”

  I turn her over onto her back, my arm strong as I hold her in place.

  “Then I’m gonna wake you up.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHARLIE

  The bright lights hurt my eyes as I adjust to the intenseness coming from the bulbs above the vanity. The bathroom is clean, sterile looking. Hell, the whole house looks sterile looking, like it hasn’t been used in forever. I can’t believe he took me back here. I know there’s some deep shit in his heart when it comes to this house.

  I don’t dare ask him, as I’m afraid it will only open myself up to return questions about my own past, but I’ve heard enough from the girls and from clubhouse gossip that he was burned bad, years ago by his ol’lady.

  He’s mentioned his son before, Brandon, but never went into detail. The hurt look that would come over him every time he said the boy’s name was enough for me to know to let it go. It was fine, though, a healthy distance. Room for each of us to have our own past.

  What the hell was he thinking, bringing me back here? This is not how we operate. This is his space, his history. Surely, he doesn’t want to mix me in it, or so I thought. Will he want in on my history, my life, other than the part that he already knows? I don’t like this new change, this new direction for us.

  It was safe before. Keeping each other at arm’s length. I’m not dumb, I know it couldn’t stay that way forever, but part of me wanted it to. Before it gets real, and ugly, and intense, and messy. Relationships are messy. The good parts and the bad. They have a stronghold on you, and I’ve always known that I wouldn’t do well tied to another person like that. I’ve got too many issues, too much shit weighing me down.

  I came to this town thinking I could find a way to fix that, so that I would be able to get past them. Here I am, months later, worse than I was before. Now I’ve got daddy issues and commitment issues. Fuck… me.

  Part of me wants to run out that door and get the hell outta Dodge. The other part won’t leave him…can’t. As scared as I am of what’s set to happen next between us, I know I’m more scared, terrified even, of what would happen if it didn’t. I’ve had a taste of him, a harmless little bit that sucked me in and took over. Now I need it to live, to breathe, to function.

  I look at the tired eyes staring back at me in the mirror.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  ******

  The icy mintness in my mouth makes breathing a chore, hurting my throat as the air passes through. He’s in bed already, chest showing, blanket low. Is he sleeping? It’s too dark to tell, but his form is still.

  “Come here.”

  My eyes close for some reason, although there is no light offending them. Shit. He’s not sleeping. I swallow hard. I can do this. What the hell is wrong with me? I wasn’t even this nervous the first time a fucked a guy.

  I can hear him breathing, even and deep as I get closer. He pulls back the covers showing me my place in the bed. My place by his side. My pulse races. Moonlight creeps in through the slits in the blinds, laying evenly-spaced lines across his flesh, his boxers, his bulging dick. There’s something inherently intimate about sharing a bed with someone. Fucking or not, just sharing the space. It seemed different in my bed, knowing that I could have him leave at any time, even though I knew I never would.

  The clubhouse crash room didn’t count. It was neutral territory in a way. Just a frame and a mattress, no strings attached.

  But, this was his place…and he was asking me in, showing me where I fit. Next to him.

  I crawl in, swift and discretely, offering him a goodnight kiss and turning myself from him, as If he would somehow be able to read my thoughts. I know from his body language that he wants more, but hope that he will simply take the hint and leave it be. This is a lot for me. Whether he knows it or not.

  His dick presses into my lower back, enticing me, calling to me. I fight against myself not to just pounce on him and take it in my mouth, but sex is only going to gloss over all this right now. His lips take my ear in between them, tongue stroking the sensitive lobe, teasing me. His warm breath showers me with his need. It’s stronger than mine, but I’m catching up.

  No. If I give in, it will only solidify what he’s trying to do here. It will only serve to connect us more, deeper, and leave me even more vulnerable to him. More to loose when the other shoe finally falls one day.

  I try in vain to hide my physical wants from him, lying.

  “Baby….” Thank God he can’t see my face while I say this, as I know it will only betray my false words, “I’m just really tired.”

  I pray it works.

  He grabs me to him, bringing me closer and no longer able to face away from him, holding me in place.

  “Then I’m going to wake you up.”

  Fuck. I’m done for.

  His lips crash down on mine, tongue demanding entry against my futile and half-hearted resistance. His leg swings over, knee bending to lift his thigh up in between mine, prying my hips apart. They do…easily.

  My mind goes blank, all thoughts erase, making room for the feelings seeping in. My neck lifts off the pillow, eager for his mouth, his fingers curl into my skin, deepening their hold on me. His knee rubs against me, with my hips gyrating to deepen its effect. Saltiness wafts in the air around us as my need starts to escape.

  “I’m going to taste you, lick you dry, and make you scream for me to stop.”

  A compressing pain starts in my chest as I’m sure my heart has stopped at his words. He rolls over, pulling me with him, positioning himself in the middle of the bed. His hands clap themselves around my thighs.

  “Sit on me.”

  Oh God, the pressure in my chest won’t let up, each time it starts to, he opens his mouth and speaks again. I fumble with moving my legs to complete the task, knowing what’s in store. His tongue is evil, with its underhanded control over my body. I hook my fingers around the elastic waist of my panties.

  “I said. Sit. Now.”

  OK then. If he’s in such a rush, then he can deal with them himself. I walk forward on my knees, carefully swinging my leg over him, clearing his head and lowering myself carefully. His hands eagerly tug at the thin cotton bottoms and I feel them stretch before finally tearing, the ripping sounds electrifying the room.

  He now has the access he wants and buries himself deep, tongue splaying itself and taunting me with its strength. His hands take a hip in each palm and guides them to work in unison with the movements of his mouth. It’s helpful at first but I find that I don’t need the instruction. I roll my hips slowly, on their own, hovering just low enough for him to work his magic. And it is magical. He’s casting a spell, hypnotizing me.

  I grab his rough hands from my hips and pull them upward, each cupping their own breast. “Why don’t you use these where they’ll do some good?”

  His hands spring to life kneading roughly and pinching at the tips. The double assault, above and below, is heaven. Each one is immensely pleasurable in their own right, but battling with the other, demanding my attention. He rolls at my nipples, puni
shing them for my smart mouth. That’s OK. I like his punishments.

  I control myself, knowing how to prolong the building eruption in my lower half. I concentrate hard, not willing to give it up too early. He needs to earn it tonight. I cover his hands with my own, gripping tight before taking his right hand up to my mouth and taking two fingers in, stifling my moans into my cheeks as I taste him deep.

  His teeth gently close around my center, teasing with delicious pressure as I try to delay the inevitable. He knows I’m fighting it. He’s pulling out all the stops tonight, determined to set me off.

  “So you wanna suck, huh?” he moans from under.

  He snakes his arms back, trailing his hands up my spine, resting them on each shoulder, pressing forward.

  “Then suck,” he adds pressure behind his palms, guiding me down.

  Finally. My body crumbles under his direction, bending forward to return his favors. His dick is pin-straight, pointing to the ceiling, growing even bigger by the second. I open my mouth, spreading my lips, and slide down, covering him with moistness as my tongue caresses his thickness. My lips are taught, stretched tight to accommodate him, but I know how to. His length is another story. It takes time for me to work myself down as far as I can, careful not to trigger a choke. He doubles his efforts on me, nibbling and sucking.

  I can’t hold it in anymore. I release his cock from my throat as I need to scream my release, pleasing him by voicing his victory to the night. His hands knead my ass cheeks, my skin shudders from the violent quakes setting off one after the other. I collapse, crashing my head into his thigh, struggling to breathe, waiting for it to end, but praying it won’t.

  He kisses my thighs rhythmically, avoiding my pulsing flesh as it settles. It takes moments to recover, and I feel his cock throbbing against my hand, waiting its turn.

  Once I’m stable, he moves me, knowing that I can offer no help.

  “The first one was a tough one. Let’s see how easily you give me the second.”

  He slips into me, my tightness allowing him only partial entry.

  “You feel so fucking good, Sugar….”

  My body slowly comes to life, working with him as he thrusts further and further in, closing in on sheathing himself completely. His lips lower to mine, their muscles playing with me, as we each demonstrate our skills.

  “Deeper,” I beg.

  He licks my lips. “How deep?”

  I grab hold of his ass and pull, “As deep as you can go. Please, I can take it, I swear.”

  His hips are swirling as he enters me, offering beautiful friction to my aching nub, still not fully recovered.

  He kisses my chin, my neck, deep…I know I’ll have his marks on me in the morning, but I don’t care. He’ll have mine, too.

  He hovers over my ear, “Then I need to ride you. Hard.”

  God help me, and all the cliches out there, but I swear I fainted. I must have, because he has to turn me on his own, as my body is nothing more than a mass of mush right now. His words, crude, rough, and honest…they did this to me.

  I try to help as he stages my body where and how he wants it. The softness of the mattress underneath is comforting as I search for places to hold onto, knowing I don’t have much time. I feel his hands fisting at himself, preparing his dick for its job. He bends down and bites one ass cheek, following it with a kiss on the other.

  I feel his knees shift, aligning himself, and close my eyes tight as I feel the head tickle my wetness. I brace myself. I know this is his absolute favorite. I know he tries to control himself, but I also know he rarely wins that battle.

  “Uhhh…,” a loud breath of powerfully forced air escapes as I take his thrust.

  Even though my eyes are clenched tight, I feel them roll back in satisfaction. This position was never my favorite before Clink. Maybe they never knew what they were doing, I don’t know. But now, I can’t even imagine not having it.

  “Agh!” Another deep thrust. He leans forward and kisses my shoulder, sweat dripping from his body from his efforts.

  I try to remain as present as possible but it never seems to be long before I slip into a state of sated bliss as he pumps away.

  He slaps my ass, hard.

  “Mine.”

  ******

  CLINK

  Holy fuck. I pant heavily. I can’t speak. I can barely think. Sugar’s passed out next to me with a huge fucking smile on her face. I raise my hand to run back through my hair. That was hands down, the absolute best I’ve ever had. And that’s some tough competition to be up against.

  I look down at Charlie’s sleeping face. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I swore I would never do this again, take on another ol’lady. But even thinking of mySugar ever being with another man the way she was just with me, makes me wanna fuckin’rage.

  I’d been thinking about this for weeks, going back and forth, not sure if I wanted to really do this. Weren’t things just fine the way they were? No expectations, no falling short. It was the perfect arrangement, right? Why go and fuck it up?

  I’ll tell you why. Only she can push my buttons the way she does. My damn dick practically jumps outta my pants every time I see her, and my head gets all messed up anytime I think she’s gonna wise up and take off. I’ve unconsciously given her test after test to give me reason not to do this. But, she passed them all. She’s proven her loyalty to the club, to me. She’s proven that she can put up with my thick fucking head and wicked stubborn streak. She can match me blow for blow when we get into it and doesn’t put up with my shit.

  The final test was tonight. It was two-fold.

  Firstly, I never thought I would be able to stomach being in this house with another woman after the misery that was left behind by the last one who lived here. Surprisingly enough, Charlie fits in here. I would want to come home every night if she were here. Secondly, the bed. I let loose tonight, held nothing back. I needed to be sure that any woman who was going to wear my leather was able to keep up, satisfy me completely. If I’m gonna take an ol’lady like Charlie, one that I have no doubt would cut my dick off with a spoon if I fucked around on her, I needed to make sure she could take care of her man.

  Looks like I need to go buy her a rag.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHARLIE

  All right, so it’s not in this cabinet, either. I turn around and look at the kitchen in its entirety. If I were a can of coffee, where the hell would I be?

  “Babe!! Where the hell is your coffee?” I call out to the back rooms.

  Clink jumped in the shower after me, but I’m pretty sure he’s been out for a little while.

  “Um…I don’t know, the store?” he answers as he strolls in, smelling like aftershave. He sees my look of shock. “Is this a trick question?”

  “No…it isn’t a trick question, smartass. You have no coffee, no fruit, no dish soap, napkins, I mean, really…how do you live like this?”

  He rolls his eyes, “Didn’t have a need for those things. Since you have a little list already started of things I need, youcan go to the store.”

  I cluck my tongue, “Oh I can, can I. Are you feeling all right? You seem to be delusional.”

  I put my hand on my hip. I’m nobody’s housekeeper. He laughs, reaching in to his pocket, withdrawing his thick money clip and unfolding several bills, placing them on the kitchen counter.

  “Get some steaks, and maybe, just maybe…,” he pulls me in close, “I’ll cook you dinner and then dessert.”

  I arch my eyebrow. “You’re gonna cook me dinner… and dessert?”

  His eyes dance in the morning light.

  “I’m gonna cook you dinner…but you’re gonna be dessert.”

  I swallow hard. “Oh.”

  ******

  “Taylor. How about Taylor?” I know the answer before she even opens her mouth.

  Lil’s politely finishes her mouthful before turning it down, “Ah…no. I don’t think so.”

  I let my head fall back. This girl i
s too much.

  “Lil’s, at this rate you are gonna bring that baby home from the hospital and still not have a name for it.”

  She waves me off, “It’ll come to me. When I find the right name…I’ll just know.”

  I laugh, “Whatever you say, momma.”

  She takes another bite of the lasagna on her plate. I swear, she might be singlehandedly creating a lasagna shortage in Chisolm. Every time I see the woman, she’s eating the same thing. Talk about cravings.

  She eyes her almost emptied plate, deciding whether she has the ambition to polish it off.

  “So, you riding this weekend, or what?”

  She finally decides against eating the remaining few bites. That’s a first. As she painstakingly begins to raise herself to clear off her dish, I squash it… fast.

  “Sit your ass down, Lil’s. I’ve got it.”

  I take her plate as she reluctantly hands it over, and walk it over to the empty sink for a quick rinse before depositing it into the dishwasher. Fork to follow.

  “I’ve gotta get going in a minute, you sure I can’t bring up the laundry for you?”

  Lil’s laundry room is in the basement, and it makes me nervous thinking of her going up and down those steps when no one’s home. I’ve seen more than a couple of those accidents in the E.R.

  “If my laundry miraculously appears on the kitchen table, let’s just say I wouldn’t be devastated. But, you’re not stepping foot outside this kitchen until you answer my question,” she threatens.

  I exhale deep as I set to wiping her counters with the sponge in hand. I don’t know the answer to her question. So far I’ve gotten by, by playing dumb about it. Sure, I’ve heard all about the charity run and camping trip. But, Clink’s never asked me to go on any of his other runs, so it’s nothing out of the ordinary for me not to go asking questions about this one.

  Although, I know this one’s different. I know it’s a full show of force for the MC, a loyalty ride. All brothers, all ol’ladies and wives. To be one of those people and not ride is like a slap in the face to the club.