"Dude, you have no idea. You don't get in the ring with me, I'll just take you down right here. I am totally sick of the testosterone poisoning. You guys need to learn that women are more than pussies and tits. Let's go."
He finally grinned and took off his rings. "Okay. You want to change or anything?"
I was barefoot, wearing yoga pants and a snug tee. "Nope. I'm good. You?"
"Nah. Let's do it." He took off his top.
"Boots too, asshole." That was Jake.
Now the guys were free to get into it, and we were betting and trash talking and having a great time. The crowd went out to the ring. Jake stood way back, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked like a proper grumpy baby. I could see he was worried and angry, but I was too jazzed to care. This was ‘me’ time.
I took down my ponytail and fixed it again, looping my hair into the band so it was totally out of the way and out of reach, in case Ron turned out to be a hair-puller. He was a biter, so hair-puller was a definite possibility. I climbed into the ring and bounced up and down, waiting for Ron.
He climbed in and said, "You know I can't fuckin' hurt you, Dakota. Not 'cos I don’t hurt women, ‘cos I don’t, but because of your fuckin' vicious dog over there who will tear me to fuckin' pieces if I even scratch you."
I laughed. "Yeah, Ronny. I know you can't. But I want you to try." The crowd loved that. He shrugged, and we went to opposite corners. Dixon said, "Three rounds. Round one." Then he rang the bell, and we went at it.
We danced around each other, looking for the in. Ron took the first swing, and I dodged it easily. I thought he'd pulled it. No way, dude. So I got in the first blow, landing a kick squarely in Ron's chest. It knocked him back with a "woof!" I crowed inwardly at the look of surprise on his face. He came in with a jab to my stomach; I sidestepped, and he was carried forward with the momentum of his miss.
Now he was going for it. Good. I spun and swept his leg out from under him. He fell to the mat, and the crowd went nuts. When he got up he looked a little pissed. Heh. Finally. Some balls.
Like all the Fire Birds, Ron was a brawler, and he just couldn't keep track of me; I dodged and spun away from him and then used his misses against him. I handed him his balls on a platter, landing several kicks and blows in each round. Ron made contact exactly once. In the second round, he got in a full-force jab to my gut, which knocked me back and to the mat, breathless. I took a beat to fill my lungs–and saw Jake coming fast to the ring–then kipped up to my feet. The move impressed the hell out of the guys, if their reaction was any indication. Then I made Ron pay for the hit.
When Dixon rang the bell ending the third round, Ron came up to me and raised my arm. The crowd cheered. He gave me a big hug and whispered in me ear, "You're a fuckin' machine, doll. That was the most fun I've ever had getting the shit kicked out of me."
I could feel his slight erection, and I pulled my hips back a bit but hugged him around his shoulders. "You are a twisted, horny son of a bitch, Ronny."
Jake was in the ring then and pulled Ron off. "Back the fuck off, brother."
Jake led me out of the ring. I was still feeling the adrenaline pump through my veins and let him lead me into the clubhouse, high-fiving and fist-bumping as I went. He led me through the common room and into the hallway, and then I pulled back. "What the fuck, Jake?"
"We need to talk."
"I'm not going back there with you right now. Not after that. It looks like you're taking me back to yell at me."
"That was the fucking plan, yeah."
"Oh, Jesus. No way, buster." I yanked my hand out of his and went to the bar. He stood stock still in the hallway for a few seconds, and then he followed.
I stayed out in the common room with the guys for a while, drinking and joking around. Their respect for me had a new dimension, which was certain. Jake stayed too, but he never seemed to relax. Okay, I guessed we were going to need to talk. Now that I was feeling good and buzzed, I wasn't so pissed off now, so what the hell.
I tossed back a final shot of tequila. I was actually pretty drunk–not slurring and slobbering or anything--and feeling really good. I looked over at Jake, who was studying me quietly. Huh. He looked really hot when he was grumpy. Maybe I could change the conversation.
I smiled at him, then said to the guys at the bar, "All righty, boys. I need a shower. It's been a pleasure educating you all this evening." I gave Ron a kiss on the cheek. "You might want to take some aspirin before you go to bed, hon. You're liable to be pretty sore in the morning from that reaming you took today."
"You can ream me anytime, doll." I made my exit to a chorus of hoots and cheers.
Jake was right behind me. When we got to his room, he closed the door and leaned on it, arms crossed. I decided there were several things I'd rather do right now than fight. Fighting would be wasted on the tasty treat that stood before me. I put my hands on his arms and looked up at him with a pout. "Come on, Bad Boy. Let's not fight. You don't even have a good reason to be mad."
He pushed off the door and moved me aside. He walked into the room and turned back to me. "You're wrong. I have a bunch of fucking good reasons. First, you could have fucking gotten hurt, and for what? For kicks? Second, what the fuck do you think it does to these guys to know they could get taken down by a woman?"
"Jesus, Jake. The he-man thing is a real drag, you know? One: Maybe I could've gotten hurt. But it was my fucking choice. It is not your job to protect me."
"Yes it is! It is!"
I ignored his interruption and continued. "Two: The biggest reason I did it was because of what it would do to them to know I could take them. They needed–you need–some eye-opening. I get you feeling like you need to protect me from evil gangs and stuff like that. Okay. That's reasonable, and, look, I've been here in the clubhouse for a week because I understand.
"But I do not get you insisting I hide behind you for my entire goddamn life. You can't protect me from everything. I need to protect myself, too. I’m the daughter of a Green Beret. It’s in my bones to fight for myself. I’m not some weak, cheap, biker groupie.
“Yes, I have breasts, but so do some of those chubby guys out there. If I need a penis for you and the others to give me the respect I deserve, then so be it. I’ll go out and get one. They can do that now, you know. Sew on a fucking penis."
Jake would have usually laughed at my humor but this time he didn’t. Jake ignored my penis suggestion, his eyebrows furrowed even deeper, and he picked up where he left off. "Do you know what the fuck it does to me to watch somebody–especially someone in a fuckin' gang–try to hurt you? It tears me up. Do you even fucking care? Tina…She was beaten and raped for hours before they shot her brains out and you just made me watch a fucking guy attack you. I feel sick."
I blanched. I hadn't thought. Jesus Christ. I'd been so wrapped up in my own need to prove a point that I hadn't thought about his agony.
His face bore a look of abject desperation. I walked up to him and pulled his arms loose so that I could get close and wrap mine around his waist. He rested his hands on my hips. I looked up. "Oh my God, Jake. I didn't even think… I didn't make that connection. I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry."
He kissed the top of my head. "I know. It's okay. I could never hate you for anything."
We held each other for a minute, and then I leaned back and looked up at him. "I feel terrible that I didn't make the association with Tina and fighting. I'm so sorry I made you go through that. And I'm sorry that you get so worried, baby. Of course I care. I love you, Jake. Completely. I don't want to cause you pain." Jake cupped my face in his hand, running his thumb over my cheek.
I caught that hand in my own and continued. "But I have to ask. Can't you see that your worry is unreasonable? While you were standing there watching, didn't you see that he couldn't hurt me? He was dripping bucket loads of sweat, you know. Kinda rank when he hugged me."
Jake looked down at me for a long moment. Then he grabbed the h
em of my tee and pulled it up. I smiled and raised my arms. “Good. Let's move on to the entertainment.” But he didn't smile back at my words. He tossed the shirt aside. He held me away, took a long look at my belly, and grimaced. God, he looked so damn sexy when he was broody. Curious, I looked down. A large, nasty-looking bruise flowered just under my ribs–the one hit Ron had gotten in had been a good one. I'd forgotten.
Jake grazed the fingers of one hand lightly across the bruise. I flinched a little; it was tender. "Looks to me like he hurt you."
I grabbed the little beard that had grown on his chin during the lockdown and pulled his face up so I could look into his eyes. I smiled. "You should see the other guy."
He grunted in frustration. "Dakota–"
I put my fingers over his luscious mouth. "–No, Jake. Enough. It's not a big deal. I'm not really hurt. And I, quite literally, asked for it." I stopped, realizing that I might have a way to get him to understand. "When you ask me to let you get between me and the world, you're asking me to be weak. You're asking me to be helpless. Can you understand why I don't want that? That's not who I am. You love who I am, right?"
He put a hand on my face. "You know I do, babe. God. I love you so fucking much it scares the shit out of me. You scare me. The thought of something happening to you makes me sick to my fucking stomach. It brings on a rage that I don’t know if I can control..."
I turned my face into his hand and kissed his palm. "Then being able to take care of myself is a good thing, right? You can't be with me every minute. Right?"
He just looked at me. I took that as a sign that I'd rendered him speechless, and moved on to more romantic pursuits. I was pretty drunk, even after all this drama, I was really horny. A fight, ending with him telling me how much he loved me–add the exceptional sexiness that oozed from him when he was broody–did nothing to cool down the lust that was now boiling inside my secret place. I wanted him to fuck the brains out of me.
I reached up and pulled off his beanie. I combed his hair with my fingers, bringing it forward to frame his face. I grabbed it in my hands and pulled his head to mine. "If you love me, Jake, then love me." I pressed my mouth to his. I felt his hand flex around my jaw as he deepened the kiss, pushing his firm tongue firmly into my yearning mouth.
I caught his tongue in my teeth, biting just gently, but it surprised him, and he flinched. I smiled and took a step back. I vaguely realized that this was the first time I'd ever been actually drunk with him. I was a very filthy, horny drunk. And just now, I was feeling like a badass. I gave him a saucy smile. "What do you want to do?"
Jake looked confused. "What do you mean?"
I put my hands on his chiseled chest and walked him back until his legs hit the end of the bed. I gave him a little shove, and he sat down. He unhooked my bra and let it drop to the floor. "Take anything you want. Whatever you want. What’s mine is yours... Anything you want." I shimmied out of my yoga pants and stood naked in front of him. I took my breasts in my hands and twisted my nipples.
He swallowed audibly. "God, Dakota. I don't… I don't know. We already do everything I want. What do you want to do?" He might be a bad boy, but he was so good to me.
I pinched at the shoulders of his fitted black t-shirt, and he pulled it off. I leaned down and licked his neck, nibbling into his chin and along his jaw to his ear. I sucked his earlobe into my mouth and bit down. I felt his hands on my waist. I stood back up and pushed at his chest, encouraging him to slide farther back on the bed. He pulled off his boots and socks and moved back until he could lay his head on the pillows.
I crawled onto the bed with him and undid his belt and fly. He lifted his hips so I could pull his jeans off. Then I licked and nibbled my way up from his calf, pausing about midway. I took his hard length in my hand and sucked him down my throat. He hissed in a breath and lifted his hips. I released him and continued upward to his neck.
I felt his arms come around me and try to pull me down onto him, but I resisted. "Dakota, babe. I just want to be inside you."
"Oh, you will be." I turned around and straddled his head.
I heard him whisper, "Sweet Jesus," as his arms wrapped around my thighs. I leaned down, my breasts brushing against his belly, and took him into my mouth. His arms tightened around my legs, and his hands slid up to clutch my buttocks. He spread my thighs wide and pressed his face between my folds. The intense pleasure of his mouth against my core distracted me for a second.
I pulled him out of my mouth, my hand wrapped around him, and flexed against his face. He thrust his hips up, and I got back to work on him. Every time I sucked him deep into my mouth, I felt his moan vibrating on me.
His tongue was all over–inside me, on my clit, back and forth, hard and soft, driving me crazy. His hands were wrapped around my butt, his fingers on the sensitive skin of my cleft. When he clutched me closer to him, his fingers brushed against my anus, and I moaned. At my reaction, he pulled his face back a bit, and I felt his fingers gingerly fondling me there, testing out my response. I moaned again and pressed back at him. I was having a hard time focusing on him.
One of his hands left my buttocks. I released his cock and looked down between us. I saw him put his thumb in his mouth. I closed my eyes and dropped my head to the top of his thigh as he wrapped his arms around my legs again, and then I felt his thumb pressing gently against that tight, ridged ring. I flexed and moaned, and he pulled my hips down against his face. He sucked on my clit, and at the same time, I felt his thumb push into me, going deeper.
"Jake… Oh… Jake…" I came immediately, rearing back, bucking hard against his hand and his mouth, seeking more pressure, more penetration. I came so hard I was brought to tears. He growled loudly and sat up under me. He rolled onto his knees and pushed me forward, pressing me down to lie prone on the bed. I was still spasming when he sank home into my core.
He left his thumb where it was at first, then he gently pulled it out and grabbed my hips in both hands. He pounded into me, grunting hard with each deep thrust. My waning orgasm picked back up and I bucked against him, my breath coming in heaving gasps. He encircled my hips with his arm and pulled, bringing me up to my knees. He grabbed my ponytail and pulled me hard against his chest, sliding his other hand down my belly to rub tight circles on my clit.
I screamed and arched my back, my entire body rigid as another huge orgasm crested. At the same time, Jake released my hair and wrapped his arm around my hips again, thrusting deep into me and holding, squeezing me hard against him as he came.
We fell together to the bed, exhausted, and Jake pulled out of me. He rolled to the side and looked at me as I lay prone. "Holy shit, Dakota," he gasped. I was too dazed to respond, but then I saw worry furrow his brow. He brought a hand to my face. "Babe, are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
"What? No! That was fucking amazing, Jake. Fucking amazing."
"You're crying." He brushed my cheek with the backs of his fingers, and I could feel the wet cool of tears.
I smiled and caught his hand in mine. "It was really intense, that's all. In a fucking hot way. You make me feel so fucking alive. God…"
He scooted closer and kissed my shoulder. "I didn't know you liked that."
There was really only one new element, so I knew what he meant. "Sometimes, yeah, I do." I rolled to my side to face him. "I get a little kinky when I'm drunk. But there are boundaries. And I think you're probably too big for that, so don't get your hopes up, if that's something you're thinking about. I wouldn't be against trying, but there will definitely need to be alcohol involved. Maybe drugs, too." I grinned. "And like a safe word or something."
"You find a way to surprise the hell out of me just about every day, babe. You are a fucking amazing woman."
I smiled. “Yeah, I know.” Then I yawned. The day had been long and, well, complicated. "I'm going to jump in the shower quick and then I'd like to curl up and fall asleep in your manly arms. Sound okay to you?"
He stared at me for a few seconds befor
e saying, "Fucking hell, you’re gorgeous… Sounds perfect to me, Dakota. I don’t wanna do anything else."
Chapter Nine
Jake
The immediate danger passed after Weston had told us the men who'd killed Fry's family had been 'handled'. He didn’t tell us how, but he was the boss. We had to trust him. Weston sent everyone home the day after New Year's. I was still extra vigilant, but Dakota's new and improved acceptance of my need to protect her, limited though it was, and her demonstration of her ability to protect herself, helped me feel less desperate. So the lockdown ended, and life again felt right.
One morning a few weeks later, while Dakota went to campus, I drove up to Pops’s house. Pops had grown bitter and restless with the way Weston was running the club. He hated maybe more than anyone where Weston had taken the Fire Birds and he'd checked out, spending more and more time alone in the woods with tequila. He had skipped the lockdown. He was a stubborn old bastard, and I think that’s why Dakota and him got on so well.
We were sitting together on the front porch. I had filled Pops in on recent events. Pops was, as expected, furious. I ranted for a long time, but nothing I said was new to him–in fact, I agreed with most of it. But Pops believed that Weston's time as boss had passed. Too many of our brothers had died and a proportion of the gang were now becoming more and more agitated with Weston. Pops believed Dixon should take over and turn the gang around.
I didn't disagree in principle. I had never been able to fully trust Weston since I'd learned that Tina's murder landed in his lap. Weston had screwed over a small gang who in turn retaliated by doing a drive by. Two of my brothers were killed. Tina was taken… tortured and killed.
But my loyalty to the gang–my family–was strong. I couldn’t leave. I didn't see Weston stepping down until his old bones gave out entirely, and a regime change before then could fracture the gang. There was already strain in the ranks because of recent events. I didn't think the Fire Birds could survive a coup right now. After all, Weston had dealt well with protecting us and 'handling' the Locos bastards who killed Fry’s family.
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