by Dixon, Ruby
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “Really.”
But the look he gives me is fierce. “You need the calories to burn off.”
That makes me blush, and I take the bacon without another word of protest.
Once we’re done eating, I clear the table and begin to wash the new dishes, since I need to keep my hands busy. I’m mentally cringing. What if they say thanks and send me on my way? Beast knows I want protection, but he also made no bones that he wanted to get laid. He got laid, but I’m not sure what my status is any longer, and I’m terrified to ask in case it’s bad news. In case they’re done with me and I have to figure out a plan B.
I’ve just finished reloading the dishwasher when Muscle grunts. “Looks like Gem wants us at the Roadhouse this morning for just in case scenarios.” When I turn he’s looking at his phone.
Beast just shrugs. “Not surprised. Bet something is up after last night. Pussy always brings in drama.”
I still, terrified. Do they think I’m bringing drama with me? My heart pounds in my chest, and my hands begin to shake.
“S’pose we’d better get our colors on,” Muscle says, wiping his mouth with his napkin before standing up. “You got any new shit to wear, Shy?”
I look at him with wide eyes. “N-n-new s-s-sh-sh-shit?”
“Aw, hell. I’ve got her stuttering again.” Muscle approaches me and gives me a wicked grin, then leans in to whisper, “I noticed you weren’t stuttering when I had my fingers in your pussy.”
I blush hard, because he’s right.
“What do you have to wear?” Beast asks.
I look down at my dress and gesture helplessly. What I have on and my clutch purse is all I have.
“You want to head to your place and grab your shit?”
My eyes widen and I give them a look of fear. The last thing I want to do is go home. In a panic, I shake my head. “N-n-n-no, please. I want to s-s-stay.”
“It’s all right,” Beast says, sensing my terror. “You’re ours until we decide otherwise.”
“Yeah,” Muscle says, considering me. “Thinkin’ we should get you a Butchers t-shirt since you’ll be tagging along with us. Wouldn’t want anyone getting any ideas.”
I smile, because that sounds like a good idea. “I’d like that.”
And Muscle grins at me because I don’t stutter.
Chapter Five
The Roadhouse is kind of decrepit looking from the outside. Inside, it’s clearly a biker hangout, and there’s a scatter of Harleys out front that tell me there’s a lot of bikers here already. We’re not there two minutes before Muscle’s sweet-talking one of the waitresses and she trots away and returns with a black t-shirt that has the Butchers logo across the tits and NEW MEXICO blazoned across the back. I put it on over my dress, so now it looks a bit like I’m wearing a filmy skirt and a t-shirt. I’m pleased to have it, though. I want to be property. No one can fuck with property.
Beast’s big hand rests on my shoulder as we head in to the restaurant. That’s fine by me. I stay close to him because this place is filled with bikers and their ladies. Despite the before noon hour, every table is full. As we head in, though, Muscle heads for one of the booths along the side wall. Two men are sitting there, nursing drinks. Muscle leans down on the table and puts his knuckles on the wood. “Who told you boys you could sit at our table?”
The men get up, grinning.
“That’s right,” Muscle says. “Get your asses outta here.” He looks over and grinds at me and Beast. “Dumbass prospects. Someone needs to tell them booths are for patches only.” He slides in on one side and crosses his arms, looking pleased with himself.
Beast slides in opposite from him, and I’m left with a choice. Where do I get to sit? I hesitate.
“I got someplace you can sit,” Muscle tells me with a nod. “Let you take care of my morning wood now.”
My eyes widen, my gaze locked with his. There’s a challenge there. He’s trying to get me to back down, I realize. I wounded his pride last night, and now he’s trying to test me to see how I’ll react. Shock and disbelief flare...and so does a dirty bolt of lust.
If he thinks he can get me to run because he wants to play in public, he’s got another thing coming.
My dad was in a club before he went to prison. My brother joined the Butchers shortly after high school. I’ve heard enough rumors to not be surprised about Muscle’s request. I know all about the debauchery that goes on with some bikers. It’s not unexpected, and I knew if I was offering myself to Beast and Muscle that I might have to go past my comfort zone to stay safe.
That doesn’t stop me from blushing of course. My face is scarlet as I move toward Muscle’s side of the booth. He winks at me and pats his lap, and Beast obligingly pulls the table closer to his side so I have room to slide in.
“Come straddle me, Shy-girl,” he tells me, and even though the grin on his face is as cocky as ever, I sense that my willingness to be his in public has pleased him. So I move toward him, and he puts a hand to my waist and drags me into his lap, adjusting me until I’m straddling him, my breasts pressing against his chest, my legs framing his on both sides. It also allows me to feel the erection he’s started sporting, and I blush even harder.
But then he kisses me, and his hands go to my breasts, and his thumbs tickle the tips through the layers of fabric, and I feel heat pulse through my body. My breath catches and I start to kiss him back, at first tentative, then with growing enthusiasm. There’s something so titillatingly naughty about sitting on his lap and making out with him while others are around us, probably watching. Actually, I know Beast is watching. And I like that, too, because I know he likes to watch.
His hips move against mine, pressing his bulge against my pussy. I still don’t have panties so I feel the denim rub right up against my flesh.
“You gonna protest if I sink my cock right into that sweet little pussy right here? Right now?” His lips move against mine.
I sigh and give my head a little shake. “I’m yours.”
“Mmm,” he says, and the sound is delicious. His hands continue to work my breasts, his fingers tugging my nipples into aching points. “You sore?”
“A little,” I whisper. “Does it matter?”
“A little,” he teases back. “Want me to finger you first? Get you all slippery so I can just push right on in?”
My breath catches and I nod. Our faces are practically pressed together, and this feels intimate despite the fact that we’re in a restaurant filled with bikers. He grins, and I feel his mouth stretch even as he kisses me again, and then his hand pushes under my skirt and finds the curls of my sex. “Damn, baby. You’re already wet. It doesn’t take much, does it?”
I don’t answer; I can’t, not with his fingers pressing through my folds and rubbing me in secret, dirty ways. Under my skirt, no one can see, but I can feel everything, and oh God, the intensity with which he touches me drives me nearly mad. Then, he slips a hard, pressing finger inside me and I gasp. It pinches for a moment, and I’m sore, but then there’s nothing but delicious sensation.
“Damn, son,” a man calls nearby. “Muscle’s getting mad pussy today.”
“Fucking prospects,” Beast mutters.
Muscle just grins, and then his mouth claims mine again. His tongue thrusts into my mouth at the same time his finger does. He does something with it inside me, and then I jump, crying out softly, because he just hit something deep inside me that made the sensations intensify by a thousand.
“There it is,” Muscle says. “The g-spot. You like that?”
I nod.
“No, I think I need to hear you say it, baby girl.” His nose nudges mine a second before he gives me another wet, licking kiss, then pulls back again. “Tell me, ‘Yes, Muscle, I like it when you touch my g-spot.’”
My mouth opens, but no sound comes out because he thrusts into me again. I tense, but he doesn’t hit the same spot, and I make a sound of protest.
“That�
�s not it,” Muscle teases, and pushes his finger in again.
I moan, not caring that someone might hear me. “Y-y-y-yes, M-m-m-muscle,” I pant.
“Don’t push her too hard,” Beast growls.
“No more teasing,” Muscle agrees, and his finger slides out of me.
“Oh,” I protest, and kiss him again, my mouth urgent.
He chuckles and moves me to the side for a moment. “Gotta put on a glove, Shy-girl.”
I nod and watch, breathless, as he unbuckles his belt, loosens his jeans, and frees his cock. He pulls out his wallet with one hand and finds a condom, then tears it open with his teeth. He rolls it on quickly, and then just as quickly, I’m plopped back into his lap. He pushes into me, and this time, it’s not a finger, it’s his cock.
My breath hisses out, because I’m sore, and he’s big. It’s uncomfortable, and my weight keeps pushing me down onto him.
“Shh,” Muscle says, and his hands cup my face and he kisses my mouth so sweetly that I’m surprised. It’s not his way to be tender, and the small movement arouses me even more. He continues to tongue me with soft, gentle motions, for what feels like endless minutes, until I’m squirming on top of him and wishing he would move.
When I start to twitch, the kissing stops, and his hands move to my waist. “Ride me, Shy-girl.”
My face is burning hot, but I’m entranced by the tenderness in his voice. I lift my hips, and he shifts his, and then we’re moving together. And oh, it feels good. Insanely good. I forget all about where we are and concentrate on Muscle, his mouth inches away from my own, and lifting my hips up and down on his to push him into me.
“That’s right,” he encourages me. “Keep moving just like that.” I do, and he adds, “Feels good, doesn’t it, Shy-girl?”
Like I can talk? I’m too busy trying not to moan aloud. I bite my lip and nod, then bury my face against his neck. I hear a woman giggle as people walk past, and I want to be embarrassed, but God, I want to come first. I’ll be embarrassed after Muscle’s done with me. Maybe not even then, because I love the feel of his arms holding me against him, and his big, warm body pressing against mine. And, okay, I’m a little addicted to the way I feel with him seated deep inside me. My fingers curl against his shirt and I work my hips on him faster. He groans, and I’m encouraged, because that’s the first sign he’s given me that he’s enjoying this as much as I am. I like hearing his reaction.
So I roll my hips a bit more, trying to see if I can get that same reaction out of him again. Get him to make another one of those throaty groans that tells me I’m getting to him. I read somewhere once that guys like it when you tighten around them, Kegel-style, and so I try that, squeezing my inner muscles as I ride him.
This time, Muscle’s head falls back and he groans loudly enough for Beast to chuckle. “Who’s riding who?” Beast comments as Muscle’s hands grip me tighter.
“Who knew our Shy-girl would be so adventurous?” Muscle murmurs in my ear. “I’m thinking she likes getting pushed out of her comfort zone.”
I don’t, I really don’t, I want to tell him, but at the same time...I don’t feel pushed out of my comfort zone with him and Beast. On the contrary, they make me feel like anything I do is safe.
Muscle’s hand smacks my ass, making me jump at the crack of his hand against my skin. “You want me to hit your g-spot again?”
I nod, pressing my mouth to his neck.
“Too quiet,” Muscle says, his hand squeezing my ass.
He drags me down his length, and then he’s hitting that perfect spot again, and I mew against his neck like a kitten because oh God, it feels so good. He thrusts against it again, and I’m almost there, rolling my hips against him hard, when he stops.
And I smack his shoulder in protest, because I need to come.
“I think I need to hear some verbalization,” he says in that cocky voice. “Say, ‘Muscle, please make me come’ and I’ll hit your g-spot again.”
I smother my moan of protest and rock on his lap a bit harder, but I can’t hit that right spot quite on my own. Swallowing my embarrassment, I murmur, “Muscle, please make me come.”
“I don’t think I heard that,” he says. “Try again.”
I nibble on his earlobe instead, trying to coax him into fucking me.
But Muscle just sits and waits. “Nope, I’m thinking I need some serious volume, here. Else I might just stop entirely.”
Cruel man. I dig my fingernails in, but he only chuckles. Fine. He wants volume? I’ll give him volume. “M-muscle,” I scream in his ear, hating that I stutter. “Make me come, Muscle!”
A ripple of laughter moves through the roadhouse. It’s a good thing my face is buried against his neck, so no one can see my awkward expression.
“Louder,” he demands, and I can practically feel his grin. His hand slaps my ass again, harder.
“Muscle,” I bellow at the top of my lungs.
As I do, he clutches my hips and pushes deep, and there he is. Hitting that most perfect spot. The one that makes my entire body jerk and all of my muscles lock up. He stops again, and so I continue screaming. “Please, Muscle!” Thrust. “YES!” Thrust thrust. “GOD!” Thrust. “YES!” Thrust. “MUSCLE!” My throat’s getting raw from my screams, but oh my God, I’m so close to coming, and my hand clenches against the back of his head and then the ripples of my orgasm start, and a low groan escapes me, and my legs tremble with the force of my orgasm. Then, Muscle’s pounding into me even as I come, and I feel his body tense, feel the orgasm grip him, too, and he savagely pushes into me.
“Fuck yeah,” he grits out, just loud enough for me to hear, and I feel him pulse deep inside me, sending another ripple of pleasure through my body. Then, he holds me tightly in place for a good long while, and it kinda feels like cuddling. I cling to him, feeling boneless and good. Hot with embarrassment, sure, but needed and pleased at how it feels.
His hand skims down my back and then he caresses the ass-cheek he spanked earlier. His mouth caresses my neck.
“You’re sweet, Shy-girl,” he murmurs into my ear, and that gives me new shivers of pleasure. I glance up at Muscle’s face, and there’s tenderness in his normally playful gaze.
“What the ever-loving fuck?” A loud voice breaks in.
I cringe, because I recognize that voice, and I hide my face against Muscle’s shoulder again.
“Yo,” Muscle says easily.
“You’re fucking my sister?” Stuart snarls, and a rough hand fastens around my wrist.
Chapter Six
I shouldn’t be freaking out at the fact that Stuart’s here, and he’s heard me screaming my lungs out as Muscle fucks me in public. I knew when I went for Muscle and Beast that they ran in the same club my brother did, and that it was bound to get back to Stuart that I was with them.
I was just sort of hoping it wouldn’t happen while I was present.
Or that it’d happen while I’m feeling vulnerable after a guy just fucked me. In a booth. In public. Oh God. I can’t even be sorry about it, because my legs are still twitching from the delicious aftershocks.
But Stuart’s hand on my arm is bruisingly tight, and when he tries to wrench me off of Muscle’s lap, Muscle slaps his hand away.
“Fuck off, Taco,” Muscle says in that supremely cocky voice. “She’s taken.”
“That’s my fucking sister,” Stuart growls.
“No,” Muscle says with amusement. “She might be your sister, but I’m the only one fucking her at the moment. Unless Beast wants a turn right now?” His hand strokes down my back, soothing me, and it’s only then that I realize my entire body is shaking like a leaf.
“What the fuck, man,” Stuart says, not giving up. “I thought family was off limits.”
“They are, usually,” Muscle says. To my horror, he slides a hand under my skirt and presses his thumb against my clit. And whether I want to or not, my hips start rocking against his again and another orgasm starts building. I’m so sensitive at this po
int I couldn’t even stop if I wanted to. “Thing is,” Muscle continues. “I’m balls deep in your sister at the moment because we found her at the panty raid. She’s a hot little fuck, too.”
And as if to prove this point, he gives my clit a little rub and I cry out, because I’m coming again.
“I don’t plan on giving her up anytime soon,” Muscle adds, pulling his hand from my skirt and then licking the thumb he just had on my clit in a rather blatant fashion. “So you best step away, brother.”
“Come on, man,” Lock says in an easy voice, and I remember what a good guy Lock is. He’s always tried to stick up for me, even when Stuart’s been a dick. “Let’s let it go.”
I dare to peek over at Stuart, and his entire face is calm, but his eyes are narrow and cold. His gaze flicks over at me. He knows exactly why I’m here with Muscle and Beast. And the look on his face tells me that the moment they ditch me, I’m going to end up dead. I hold tighter to Muscle’s t-shirt because I feel as if I need to hold on to something right now. I’m so terrified I’m on the verge of blacking out.
Then, Stuart looks at me again. His lip curls derisively. “Didn’t realize that my sister was into prison dick. Shouldn’t be surprised. She’s a little whore. You boys might want to get checked.”
Prison...dick? Is Stuart just being hateful or does he know something I don’t?
The entire table shoves forward, the lip pushing into my lower back. I hear a low, angry growl and I realize that Beast has gotten to his feet, and he’s now looming over Stuart, a furious look on his face.
“I’ll put up with your lip because you’re a fellow Butcher,” Muscle says casually. “But my boy Beast, here, he don’t like it when people shit on him.”
I look over at Beast and the big man’s face is furious, his lips curled down in the meanest, ugliest snarl. He truly looks fearsome, and both my brother and Lock take a step back.
Lock nudges my brother again. “Come on, man. Go work it off at the gym or something. You know your sister’s with the club at the moment. That ain’t a bad thing.”
