by Franca Storm
“I know, but it’s a whole other level.”
He wasn’t wrong there.
A manhunt.
Murderers.
A disgraced former psycho MC president.
Black ops assassins.
No wonder Finn taught the way he did with that kill-or-be-killed mindset. Scott’s revelations about what was really going on with the whole Knox thing had made me realize just how complicated and dangerous Finn’s past was. It was still haunting him. And Scott, now that Knox had tangled those ex-military maniacs up in everything.
“I understand why you haven’t told Finn, but wouldn’t he be safer knowing that these guys are active again and gunning for him through you?”
“You don’t know that side of Finn. Getting back into all of this… he’s been through enough.”
“And you haven’t?”
“It ain’t the same. I’ve lived a life. Finn’s just getting back to his.”
I nodded, getting it. “And that life is now with your daughter. If he knew and reacted badly by going after them—”
“It would hurt Ash. I ain’t gonna do that to her. She’s already suffered from the Rogue Riders bullshit over the years. I gotta keep her free of it now.”
“That’s also why you don’t want to bring the club in on it. It brings everybody in.”
“Makes for too many wildcards. The less people involved, the more elements I can control. And, like I said, I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire either.”
“I know. We need to distance ourselves from each other to the outside world. I get it.”
“Yeah? You’re really okay with it?”
“It’ll give you peace of mind. You already have enough on your plate as it is. I told you that I’d do whatever I could on my end to help and if this is it, then you’ve got it.”
Admiration shone in his slate-gray eyes. “I knew it all along.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll make a hell of an Old Lady.”
“An Old Lady, huh?” I teased, walking my fingers up his arm, over his club tattoo. “The Queen to your King?”
Heat burned in his gaze. “Hell, yeah.”
The next thing I knew, his mouth was crashing down on mine.
There was no slow burn about it this time.
It was an explosion of all the pent-up passion and desire that had been simmering between us for far too long.
Our tongues tangled, exploring, tasting.
Heat pooled between my legs.
I was more desperate for him than I’d ever been to have anybody.
I grabbed his leather jacket and tugged him against me, needing him closer, needing so much more all at once.
He slipped his hand under me and eased me onto his lap, my thighs straddling his waist. His hold was firm and tight, dominating and reassuring at the same time.
Being held by him was all consuming. There was so much want emanating from him, rivaling my own, and it only escalated with every passing moment.
Before I knew it, I was grinding in his lap, my body taking over, reacting on instinct.
He broke our kiss, his mouth moving to my cheek, the nape of my neck, down to that sensitive spot between my neck and shoulder. I gasped at the sensations he was eliciting and I delved my fingers into his hair, kneading, tugging, beside myself as I ground against his rock-hard dick.
“Fuck,” he growled, bolting forward, grasping my waist, and taking me with him. I wrapped my legs around him, clutching his biceps for support as he carried me across the living room.
The next thing I knew, my back was hitting the dining room table. I hadn’t even realized we’d stepped into the adjoining dining room.
I didn’t get the chance to acclimate, before he slid his hand around my back, eased me up a bit, then pulled my jacket down my arms. He didn’t waste any time undoing what was left of the buttons on my lace blouse after earlier. He just pulled it up over my head, then flicked open my bra and brushed it off the table.
Then he was on me, his mouth descending on me, all over me. Licking, sucking, nipping my neck, my breasts, my nipples. He made his way down my torso, swirled his tongue inside my navel, then teased my lower stomach.
I jolted when I felt his hands reach under my skirt. They skated up my thighs and brushed over my panties. “So fucking wet,” he gritted out. “So ready for me.”
He hooked his fingers in my waistband, then roughly jerked my panties and skirt down in one thrust, making me gasp.
“I love those sounds you make,” he said, grinning at me as he unbuckled his belt, then pulled down his fly.
He reached around to his back pocket, pulled out a condom, then shucked off his jeans.
I swallowed hard at the sight of his dick, the studs in the head glistening in the muted light.
I’d never seen anyone roll on a condom so quickly. It was like a blur of movement, and then he was grabbing my hips, pulling me to the edge of the table.
His huge body loomed over me as he spread my thighs open and sank into me.
Expecting it to be a rough, harsh thrust in deep, I was pleasantly surprised when he actually eased in slowly.
He held my gaze, the intensity in his flaming gaze almost too much as he stretched me slowly. It was so incredibly erotic, him watching me and making me feel every inch of his girth filling me up deeper and deeper. I cried out at the extra edge the studs in his head offered as they rubbed my walls in the most deliciously stimulating way.
“Oh my God,” I choked.
“I know,” he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes rolling back in his head with pleasure. “Your grip is… damn, you’re tight. Jesus Christ.” Concern filled his eyes. “You all right?”
I smiled. He was so sweet. Even deep inside me, he was still making sure I was okay, still thinking about my wellbeing. Most guys wouldn’t have cared once they’d gained access. But Scott “Spartan” Tate was a far cry from most guys.
I reared up and grasped his biceps, determined to show him how right I was. With a tug, I pulled him down with me.
And that was it.
We both lost it.
Our lips clashed hard and intense. His hands were all over me, sweeping down all over my body. I buried my fingers deep into his thick head of hair, then down his neck, to his pecs, his abs, around to his back.
It was a frenzy, our passions unleashing all over each other in full force.
He pulled almost all the way out, then drove back inside me so so deep that it had me screaming out in pleasure as he hit my G-Spot. He didn’t stop then, fucking me wildly, his thrusts hard and fast. He was a powerful, unstoppable force, a frigging powerhouse.
Every thrust, every touch was uncharted bliss, new realms of intense pleasure.
I couldn’t get enough.
I grabbed at him desperately as I bucked my hips, trying to meet him thrust for thrust, moving with him.
Losing control, screaming like a banshee, I raked my nails down his back.
He snarled. It was so primal and intense that it sent a spike of pleasure right to my core.
I was right on the edge of coming when he abruptly pulled out and flipped me over. He slammed back inside me and I jerked up the table.
He fisted his hand in my hair, making a makeshift ponytail and forced my head back. “Look at me,” he growled. “Wanna see you as you come all over my cock.”
“God, yes.”
As he powered into me, jackhammering me against the table, I felt his fingers spreading my pussy open. He had me bucking as he teased my clit, circling, pinching, flicking. Pleasure built so quickly, taking over my whole body.
I was lost to it, to him.
“Scott,” I rasped. “So good. I’m there. I’m gonna come.”
“Yeah, you fucking are.”
The next thing I knew, his finger was sliding inside my pussy, along his dick already filling and fucking me.
He pulled it out suddenly. “Suck,” he commanded.
I opened m
y mouth and he plunged it inside, making me taste myself. It pushed me over the edge and my pussy clamped down around him as my orgasm slammed into me.
He pulled his finger free as I jerked wildly beneath him. All I could hear were my own shrieks, animalistic sounds that barely sounded like me.
There was only ecstasy and him.
It just kept going.
On and on.
His wild thrusts.
Him slapping my pussy, pushing my orgasm further and further.
And then I heard a ferocious snarl from Scott. He jerked and cursed, his thrusts easing, his hands stilling and I knew he’d come.
I collapsed onto the table, shuddering as aftershocks racked my body.
His body covered mine and he kissed my back, my shoulders, then my lips.
I could feel the smile on them as he said, “You’re something else, love.”
I chuckled. “Right back at you.”
16
~Spartan~
I LIKED HER HANDS ON ME.
All over me.
We were sprawled out on a blanket on the floor. I was chilling on my stomach and she was tight to me, tracing her hands all over my ink.
She walked her fingers down my arm and tickled down over my shoulder, trying to reach my chest.
I laughed and rolled onto my back so she could get a better look at the flames inked on my right shoulder and stretching around to the right side of my chest.
“What does it mean?” she asked.
My ink was real personal to me. I weren’t used to talking about it with nobody. It had me tensing up a bit and she noticed, drawing back.
Pulling her hand away, she said, all sheepish, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”
I took her hand and placed it back on my tat. “Nah, it’s all good, love.” We’d turned a major corner by putting all our shit out there, being honest and trusting each other. I wasn’t gonna go back to all the secrecy and holding stuff back.
I covered her hand with mine, running back and forth along the length of the tattoo, as I explained, “Flames, or fire, being able to create it, was a major turning point for man. A symbol of power and wisdom. Two of the things I value a hell of a lot and what I aspire to be. But fire can also get outta control and be real destructive. So it’s kinda a reminder to me to be careful and responsible with the power I wield in my life.”
“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes sparkling up at me in wonder. “That’s beautiful. Deep.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Beautiful,” I joked.
She laughed.
I reached out and ran my hand through her hair. “You gotta do that more, yeah?”
“What’s that?” she asked, her pretty blue eyes beaming up at me.
“Laugh. Smile.”
“Okay,” she murmured, then went back to her exploration. Touching my club tattoo on my forearm, she said, “I know what this one is all about.” She shifted her weight and told me, “It’s really great what you’ve done, what you’ve built.”
“The businesses?”
“That too, definitely. You’ve created an impressive empire. But I meant the club. I get it, you know? I’ve had a lot of time to observe it over the last couple of years and I see that it’s not just a bunch of guys riding motorcycles, and that it’s also even more than a tightly knit brotherhood. You’ve brought together a group of good men with troubled pasts who’d been burdened by who they used to be and you’ve provided them with the opportunity to reinvent themselves, to live a better life and become the best versions of themselves. You saved them.”
Well, shit. She could really read between the lines. That was exactly what Iron Kings was about. More than even the empire we’d built, it was the club that was my real life’s work, what I was most proud of and what meant the most to me outta everything I’d done.
“You’re giving me too much credit, but you’re right about the basic idea of the club, yeah.”
She smiled and reached for my third tat. I shifted onto my side to give her full access to the upper right of my back.
“LIVE TO RIDE. RIDE TO LIVE,” she spoke, reading the text that surrounded the image of a Harley.
“Pretty obvious, huh?”
“Yep,” she murmured, checking it out in detail. “It’s impressive. True art.”
“I had a good guy for a while. He retired a couple of years back.”
“Now there’s Ashley and TRUE INK.” She pulled back and I rolled onto my back again, stretching out and enjoying the down time of just chilling and talking nice and casual, enjoying being with each other.
Her eyes darted to my dick, taking in my piercings. “Did that hurt when you got it done?”
I shrugged. “It was over real quick. Healing took ages though.”
“What made you get it done?” A sexy smirk played on her lips. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Enjoyed them, yeah?”
She bit her lip coyly. “God, yes. It was intense. Does it feel like that for you too?”
“Yeah. It makes fucking way more sensitive and heightens the whole thing.” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “So, tell me about yours.”
She frowned in confusion. “I don’t have any piercings other than one in either ear.”
“I meant your tat.”
I’d seen something when we’d got it on earlier, but things had been a whirlwind, so I hadn’t been able to make it out. It’d pretty much been a blur.
She blushed, looking embarrassed. For a few seconds, I thought she wasn’t gonna show me. But then, with a sigh, she turned onto her side and pressed her fingers to it.
I studied it, taking in the swirling navy lines wrapping around three purple tulips.
Easing her fingers away, I traced mine over it. It was good work, all 3D and positioned just right on her lower back. Jesus, it looked sexy as all fuck on her.
“I was young. It was a graduation present to myself. I wanted to do something wild before going off to college, so I got this tattoo. Tulips are my favorite flowers.”
“Nice. Real nice, love.”
She scoffed and pulled away. “It’s a tramp stamp.”
“Anybody calls it that to you, just let me know and I’ll set them straight.” I leaned in and kissed her forehead, “It looks good on you. It don’t matter where you got it, you got it for you, to express something about yourself. Nothing else matters.”
Her eyes lit up. “You’re too sweet.”
“Yeah? Am I?” I said, grasping her hips and pulling her on top of me. She squealed in surprise, making me laugh. It was the cutest fucking sound I’d ever heard.
I wrapped one arm around her, holding her to me. With the other, I stroked her long, blonde hair. She murmured peacefully and relaxed against me, resting her head on my chest.
It’d been a long time since I’d had a naked woman wrapped up with me, since I’d let myself fuck anybody. Hell, I hadn’t just fucked her, I’d unleashed and let myself go.
And I’d forgotten what I’d been missing.
So much so that I hadn’t been able to stop.
Doing it over her dining table had only been the first of three go-arounds that had stretched over the last couple of hours. My dick was already hard and wanting to go again. I was sure I could go all night with her, like a goddamn twenty-year-old. I couldn’t get enough of her, of being with her. It was more than fucking.
It was the connection we had.
Intense.
Consuming.
Deep.
On the surface we were from two different worlds.
Her real world was all fancy-ass luxury and civilian.
My world was down ‘n’ dirty and club life.
She was a big-time architect and I was the President of a notorious motorcycle club.
But she got my world. She liked it. My world liked her.
And I was also a businessman, an entrepreneur like her, able to get her.
The fundamental stuff intersected with us.
The rest was just surface stuff, smaller differences that really just made things interesting.
It was a hell of a shame that I had to hide all of this with us from the world.
I wanted to celebrate it, to get the ball rolling on easing her into my life.
But her safety came first.
Until my mission was taken care of, we’d keep things between us off everybody’s radar.
Dani lifted her head up to look at me. “I’m sorry we’re on the floor. I haven’t lived here for two years, so everything’s dusty, including the bed. Thank goodness I keep a blanket in the trunk of my car. After the number of times it’s broken down, it just seemed like good sense, in case I ended up stranded in the freezing cold one day.”
“It’s all good, love.”
She pulled out of my arms and sat up on her haunches. “Do you want a tour?”
Looked like now she’d recovered from our back-to-back fucking, she was restless and wanting to get up and move about. Maybe she was uncomfortable on the floor. I’d had enough experience sleeping in some uncomfortable places from my time in the military, so it made no difference to me either way.
“Sure,” I said, humoring her. Besides, it’d be nice to see more of her place. From the little I’d seen of it so far, it was real impressive.
She pushed off me and I followed her up. I snatched her clothes off the floor and handed them to her. As I pulled on my own, I watched her get dressed, wiggling into her panties and skirt. Damn, it was just as sexy watching her put clothes on as take them off. There was just something about the way she moved, all fluid and confident. Even getting dressed she had some major attitude and it was a hell of a turn-on.
When we were dressed, she grabbed my hand and tugged me with her, bounding out into the hallway.
“Let’s start with the kitchen. I need water. My throat is so dry from screaming.”
“Yeah, you’re a hell of a screamer, love.”
She blushed and gave my chest a playful slap. “It’s your fault.”
I grinned “I know and there’s more where that came from.”
Heat flared in her eyes. But it was gone in the next second as she blinked hard and shook her head. “Uh uh. Tour first.”
I chuckled and wrapped my arm around her, tucking her into my side. “You got it.”
