by Franca Storm
I stopped outside his door.
Staring at the intimidating CLUB PRESIDENT nameplate, I took a moment to get myself together.
Then I sucked in a steadying breath and knocked.
I jumped as a terse voice responded, “Still fucking busy, assholes! Back off. Next shithead to knock's gonna get their ass handed to them!”
Wow.
I hesitated for a moment. He was clearly pissed.
But I’d come this far. Turning back would be an act of weakness and I couldn’t have that.
Throwing caution to the wind, I called through the door, “It’s Dani.”
There was a delay and then I heard the thump of heavy footsteps coming toward the door. The lock clanged and then the door flew open and there he stood.
As per usual, just the sight of him had my body coming to life.
His hair was all sexily ruffled from running his fingers through it too many times. His enthralling gray eyes latched onto me. He stood there in a pair of black jeans and a matching t-shirt that barely contained his muscular form. The way he leaned against the doorframe with one muscular arm pressed against the wall, made him look so formidable, powerful and capable.
“Sorry,” he said, that delicious rumbling voice booming forth.
God, he was the sexiest man I’d ever met.
“The boys have come by trying to drag my ass outta here about twenty times in the last hour,” he went on. “Never woulda said that shit if I’d known it was you, love.”
I waved my hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I get it.”
There was an awkward few moments where we just stared at each other.
He grunted, clearly hating the feeling of being ill at ease just as much as I was.
“So, what’s brought you by my office?”
His bluntness especially after the insecurity I’d been experiencing since I’d shown up here was jarring.
Ugh. I couldn’t do this.
Things really weren’t working out at all.
It was just one of those days. Going home and sleeping it off was best.
“I don’t know, but I… I need to go. I’ll let you get back to work. Thanks for—I mean—see you around.”
I turned to go, but I was stopped by his hand gently grasping my upper arm.
“Wait, love.”
Just his slight touch had a rush of heat roaring through me. I looked down at his hand on my arm and a gasp escaped me at the sight of it. It was badly bruised and his knuckles were red raw and virtually shredded. I shot a look at his other one and saw similar damage.
“Oh my God. What happened?”
“Ain’t nothing,” he said dismissively.
An awful explanation occurred to me. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t go after Don.”
He let go of me and sighed heavily, resignedly really. “Come on in.”
Stepping back and opening the door a little wider, he motioned for me to come inside. I hesitated and tensed up. He noticed right away, being the perceptive guy that he was.
“It ain’t what you think,” he assured me.
Worry gave way to curiosity. Perhaps, morbid curiosity.
“All right,” I conceded, walking in, as he shut the door behind me.
I took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. His extremely cluttered desk. There were papers piled haphazardly all over it. There were two empty coffee mugs in amongst them and an opened energy drink.
As he sank into his leather chair behind it, I took a closer, investigative look at him.
There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And there was something else there too. A haunted, pained look.
My gaze fell to the content of the documents scattered all over his desk. I kept seeing the same image and name over and over.
Knox Price.
My heart sank. Oh no. No wonder he was in so much pain.
“You found him, but he got away,” I stated. The evidence pointed toward just that. He’d obviously been in a fight. He’d sequestered himself away in his office during the club’s infamous family barbecue. Aside from the massive run they did twice a year where they rode for hours through the countryside and hung out at a place with a bunch of friendly MCs for the weekend, it was their biggest event of the year. There were papers with photos of Knox and details listing potential leads.
Yeah, the evidence spoke for itself. He was grieving the loss of failing to apprehend Knox. Well, I hoped his only goal was to apprehend him and not to take it further than that.
He appeared surprised that I’d put it together.
“We’ve both got our secrets, ain’t we, love?”
“Yes,” I said, picking up on the subtext. “Yours is safe with me,” I vowed.
“Appreciate it, but I ain’t looking to talk about none of it.”
“Then, why did you invite me in here?”
“I wanted to make it clear that I ain’t gone after that shithead bothering you. Don’t want you stressed over it.”
I didn’t completely buy that. It seemed more like he had wanted to talk, but he’d freaked at the prospect of opening up like that and ended up changing his mind instead. We were a pair. I eyed him and asked, “And you’re not going to at any point, right?” I had to shut it down now. I was going to handle it. I didn’t want him getting involved.
“He hurt you and he’s still an active threat.”
So, that was a 'no' then.
I blew out a breath, trying to rein in my frustration. How many times did I have to tell him to back off, before he actually did it? “If I needed your help, I’d ask for it.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” He rose from his chair and strode around to the front with that confident, verging-on-arrogant swagger of his. “You’re way too worried about the whole balance of power bull between us and anybody you come into contact with.” He leaned his ass against the desk, folding his arms across his chest as he told me, “You gotta get past all that.”
“You don’t know everything,” I retorted. As responses went, it wasn’t the best. In fact, it was downright weak, but he’d caught me off guard, coming at me like that and hitting me right where I lived.
“So, I’m wrong about this then?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Well, that’s a fucking copout.”
“That’s your opinion,” I ground out with a bite.
He wasn’t the least bit deterred, being the tough badass that he was and he challenged, “It’s a goddamn fact.”
I shot out of my seat. “We’re done here.”
“It’s a real shame.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, turning from him and heading to the door.
“For such a feisty thing, you sure do run a lot. Don’t that bother you? Choosing cowardice instead of courage? Never took you for that, but I must’ve been wrong after all, yeah?”
I stopped in my tracks. My fists were clenched. I was fuming. “Cowardice?” I seethed.
“Yeah. Running from that shithead. From me.”
I spun around, exploding, “You’re the one who ran from me! In fact, you couldn’t get out of my apartment fast enough and I’ve heard squat from you since!”
He got in my space and loomed over me. There was no aggression on his end, though. Just heat. His gaze blazed into mine, as he said, “If I’d stayed that day, I woulda fucked you all over that damned apartment. You weren’t in no state for that.”
Oh.
His confession caught me off guard and it took me a moment to get a hold of myself. “Who are you to decide what I’m ready for? Huh?” Talk about insulting.
“When you ain’t being honest with me or yourself, I gotta step up and take over to protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection.”
“Too bad. You got it.”
“You’re a stubborn ass.”
“Right back at you.”
I glared at him.
He glared r
ight back.
Intensity flared between us.
Heat escalated to raging flames.
“You want honesty?”
Before he could speak, I stepped into him and fisted my hand in his shirt.
I jerked him down to me and crushed my lips to his.
Clearly, he was as shocked as I was that I’d made such a sudden, bold move, because it took him a moment to actually respond.
But when he did… holy crap.
His hands sank into my hair, first stroking and massaging, then tightening to my scalp in a dominating move that held me in place as he took control of the kiss.
His lips were soft but firm and sure.
His hands were gentle but commanding.
His tongue swept across my lips, teasing them. I opened for him and he claimed my mouth wholeheartedly. I’d never experienced anything like it before.
He knew what he was doing for sure. The man was skilled.
But it was more than even that. He was a commanding force, overwhelming my mind and body alike. And that was just from a kiss. Somehow, it was more than just lips and tongue. He had my entire body enraptured.
His grip loosened in my hair and I felt him moving to pull back.
No. I didn’t want it to end yet.
I used my hold on his shirt to push him against the wall.
He smiled against my mouth as his back jarred against the drywall, seeming to like my take-charge move.
Pushing my hands up under his shirt, I ran my fingers over his hard pecs, down to his sculpted abs. He was hot to the touch, his skin so warm and soft.
With a growl, he grabbed my hips and ground his dick against me, his incredibly hard dick. Yes.
Grasping his ass, I used it as leverage to increase the pressure of his grinding, desperate to feel more.
It’d been so long since I’d been with a man and so long that I’d wanted him. It was surreal. His mouth, his hands on me already had an overwhelming need sparking within me. Now his dick, that sexy growl… it had it erupting in full force. I needed him. I needed to feel everything, for him to give me everything he had.
I broke the kiss and panted, “Fuck me, Scott.”
His eyes burned.
The next thing I knew, he was sweeping me off my feet and carrying me across his office.
Surprising me, he put me down on his leather desk chair. His hands braced on the thick arms, he leaned over me.
He flashed that sexy smirk of his that always made me tingle.
“With all our bitching back and forth, I never told you how fucking incredible you’re looking.” He took me in, my bold purple and red sundress, my denim jacket, my sandals, and my hair down for once and falling in loose waves about my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling at his sweetness. “You’re way up there on the incredible scale yourself.”
He grinned, then placed his palms on my thighs, running them up and down. I moaned out when he slid them to the insides, teasing me. His eyes were fixed on mine as he slipped his hand under my dress and then ran his knuckles over my panties. Just that soft contact had me bucking in the chair.
“Ain’t gonna fuck you.”
“What?” I asked, startled. Had I misread what this was? Had I gotten so carried away that I’d thought it was leading to something way more than what it was?
As usual, he read me well, telling me gently, “This has been a real long time coming for us both. I don’t want it being some cheap fuck in my office.”
Wow. “You’re a closeted romantic,” I accused.
He stroked my arms gently, regarding me intently as he asked, “Is that what you want? A shitload of romance?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
The next thing I knew, the fingers of his free hand were caressing my chin and easing my head up, directing my gaze right to his. “You get to tell me what you want, love. It’s gotta be an equal mix of give and take. It ain’t all my way, or all yours. You wanna do this thing with us, then you gotta bring that. You gotta be upfront and honest.” He brushed his finger over my lips, gazing at me intensely. “You gotta drop them walls of yours.”
“I… I know,” I murmured.
“Work on it,” he said gently, understanding bleeding from him.
He shifted his weight and his fingers left my face. “Until then, I’m gonna tide us both over.”
Moving so quickly then, he shoved my dress all the way up to my waist, tugged my panties down, then dove between my spread thighs. I cried out as he ran his tongue up the length of me. It was a gentle, teasing pressure as he took his time exploring me, learning me for the first time.
I threw my head back trying to handle the sudden pleasure. His mouth was spellbinding. No man had ever gone down on me in such a reverential, totally consumed way. It was like he’d been starving and I was his long-awaited feast.
Just as he’d lulled me into sensual, soothing pleasure, he shifted gears.
In seconds he had me beside myself as he slid two thick fingers inside me. At the same time, he began teasing my clit with merciless flicks, then switching back to long, erotic licks with feather-light pressure.
His fingers twisted, curled, and pulled gently.
“Yes, Scott! Fuck!” I cried out, struggling to handle all the conflicting sensations. I was digging my nails into the arms of the chair, squirming, panting. I was a hot mess, so close to coming already.
When he pulled back, I could barely breathe. “Oh my God,” I gasped out.
With his thumbs, he spread me open. He flicked my clit with his tongue, nipped lightly with his teeth, then sucked it into his mouth.
I almost flew off the chair.
He pressed his hand to my stomach, holding me steady. My juices were wetting his lips, his chin. My pleasure-glazed eyes met the fire burning in his.
He blew on my highly-sensitized pussy and I bucked wildly. He thrust two fingers back inside me. “Next time, it’ll be my cock fucking this sweet pussy.”
He pumped hard and fast this time, finger fucking me wildly. I thrust my hips automatically, frantically trying to match him.
He crushed the palm of his hand to my pussy, exerting pressure on my clit as he continued to pump his fingers so deep inside me. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot,” he growled. “Let go, love. Come all over me.”
“Yes! Don’t stop!”
“Ain’t stopping until I’m tasting your cum on my tongue.”
Oh God.
He snarled, then pulled his palm back and smothered my pussy with his talented mouth again. His tongue went wild on my clit. He crooked his fingers deep inside me, fingering my G-spot.
And that was it.
I exploded, screaming and thrashing like mad, as my orgasm slammed into me.
He didn’t stop until he’d milked every ounce of pleasure out of me.
Then he rose up and kissed me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and making me taste myself. It was gloriously dirty and had me hooking my arms around his neck and holding him to me until I was forced to pull back to draw in breath.
“Holy shit,” I gasped. “Who the hell are you? The Pussy Whisperer?”
He chuckled in that sexy throaty way of his that did things to me. “Worth the wait, yeah?”
I fisted my hand in his t-shirt and held him to me. “I never doubted it.”
He kissed my forehead sweetly, then he eased back and pulled my panties back up and fixed my dress.
I grasped his wrist as he went to get up. “Let me return the favor.”
He smiled and rose to his feet, using my grip on his wrist to help me up with him. “Weren’t doing you no favor. I needed a taste of you.”
Oh. “Still, I—”
“Gonna take you to my room. There’s a bathroom in there where we can clean up. Then we’ll head out to the barbecue. It’s why you came by, yeah, to pull me outta hiding?”
I let go of his wrist. “I wanted to see you.”
“Makes both of us, so let’s spend some time togeth
er.”
“Okay, sure. I mean, good,” I stumbled, more than a little surprised by him. I mean, he’d just turned down a blow job. I could see he was turned on, big time. His big dick was tenting his jeans. And before that, he’d turned down actual fucking. But he’d eaten me out? I didn’t get it at all. It didn’t seem to make any sense. Unless… did he not want me touching him?
“Scott, I don’t understand.”
He reached out and stroked my hair. “It’s all good, just one step at a time, love.”
One step at a time?
It was about him being gun-shy too then.
Well, I could relate to that.
And I could work with that just fine. Slow and easy was my thing nowadays.
Getting caught up in my need for him had nearly screwed with that.
He’d saved me from myself.
I had a feeling that he knew that and it was exactly why he’d held back.
12
~Spartan~
SHE WAS TRYING.
I could see it.
I could hear it.
I could fucking well feel it.
As I watched her mingling with my boys in the yard, laughing and talking, she just seemed to fit.
But I’d already known that.
She’d gotten along with every one of my club brothers that she’d come into contact with in the two years she’d been here in Ridgefield.
In some ways, she was right up there as perfect Old Lady material.
But it wasn’t enough.
And it never would be until she could drop those walls of hers.
She weren’t ready.
Not for me. Not for nobody.
It was why I’d held off with her in my office.
Hell, I’d been ready and willing to go. I’d wanted to take her right there and then, claim every inch of her smoking body, be with her the way I’d wanted for a long time.
But I didn’t go there with just anybody. I’d tried it a few years after my wife had died, trying out being the stereotypical club president who fucked around with the club pussy throwing themselves at him. It hadn’t worked for me. It wasn’t who I was, even in grief. The boys had razzed me about it, but, for me, it had to be real. There had to be a connection. After having that with somebody, it was way too empty without it.
When I’d felt that kind of connection with Dani, it’d seemed like a miracle. I’d never thought I’d be able to feel something like that again. It was bittersweet, though, with her holding herself back.
