GRIZ: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (Chained Angels MC)

by Nicole Fox

  “What’s going on?” I ask as I push my bike into its spot.

  “Four guys in Grave Robbers’ colors are standing outside the northwest fence. We saw them drive by about three times, so we were pretty sure they were casing the joint. Looks like they might be thinking about jumping the fence,” my garage supervisor, Tony, says.

  “I can go shoot a few warning rounds in the air if you want?” Spike asks. “Give them fair warning to get the fuck off our property?”

  I lick my teeth as I stare him down. He’s jittery today, bouncing on his heels, wringing his hands. If he thinks I can’t tell he’s fueled by something besides adrenaline, he’s dumber than I thought.

  “Inside the fence or out, they’re already on our property and in our territory,” I say, not breaking eye contact with my dickhead vice president. “Jace, Tony, and Dex, come with me to greet our trespassers. Spike, get the fuck out of my sight and get the guys at the house locked and loaded in case we need backup.”

  My guys fall in line with me and we make our way to the northwest edge of the property. It’s always been an area of vulnerability, with the corner of the fencing hiding under plenty of tree cover. I like the privacy, but goddamn if we don’t need to figure out a better way to secure that area.

  We actually catch the four guys climbing over. Three are fairly young but one is older, middle aged. None are Draven Williams, and it really surprises me that they only sent four. In fact, I radio for the front gate to keep an eye out, in case this is some distraction meant to allow a larger group through the front gate.

  “All clear here, boss,” is the reply.

  They’re checking their weapons as we approach and all four have their backs turned to us. Dex holds a shotgun, which he cocks to get their attention. They spin, hands going straight to their weapons, and each man finds a gun trained on him.

  “Hands up, boys,” I say. “What are you doing on my property?”

  The eldest of the group puts his hands in the air, the others following his lead. He’s probably a head shorter than I am, but stocky. His high-and-tight cut highlights the gray at his temples. I recognize him immediately. This is Kit, Draven’s vice president.

  “Kit,” I say. “Couldn’t ring the doorbell like a normal visitor?”

  He grins. “Heard you might have something my boss is lookin’ for. Thought we’d peek around and see if we could find it.”

  “Sneaking around like that could get you hurt. Not sure how Draven would react to someone scaling his fence, but I think you should be glad you don’t have a bullet lodged in your ass right now.”

  “Well, my ass thanks you for being less of a hothead than Draven,” Kit says. He pauses and his eyes flit to me, then to my guys, then back to me. “Where’s the girl, Griz?”

  “Why don’t we walk up to the house and have a conversation like gentlemen, rather than talking in riddles out here in the backyard?” I ask.

  Dex motions the shotgun to move the guys forward. “Keep your hands up,” he orders. The Grave Robbers’ representatives obey, trudging along ahead of us, our guns to their backs. We make it to the garage and our boots crunch on the gravel drive, the only sound as we near the house.

  We stop as we near the front steps. Several of my guys have come out to stand behind me, though Spike is nowhere to be found. I keep my weapon trained on Kit.

  “Very disrespectful, what you did today,” I say. “By all accounts, you could all four be dead right now and Draven would have no recourse.”

  “Well, Draven could’ve come and shot the front gate down,” Kit says. “He sent us in to be sure she was here, first, instead of starting war for no reason.”

  “How benevolent of him,” I say. “Too bad y’all fucked up.”

  “The girl, Griz,” Kit says once more. “Where is she?”

  “What girl are we talking about?” I ask. “And what’s she to you?”

  Kit narrows his eyes, trying to read me. I give him a look that says I’m not in a talkative mood.

  Kit’s eyes go wide all of a sudden, his hand instantly going to his weapon. My guys are all a blur as they surround the four Grave Robbers. Kit’s now got a gun pointed at his head in addition to the one Dex points at his chest.

  I turn and there’s Spike, holding Tanner with a knife at her throat. His pupils are huge, even though it’s bright and sunny. His face is split into a grin made more maniacal by all of the damage I did. He says, “Come for this little slut? She’s probably got six loads of cum in her by now.”

  I turn my head to look at Kit. He tries to look unaffected but I see something there. A slight flinch, his eyes focused on the sheen of Spike’s knife against Tanner’s creamy skin. He cares for her. Maybe it’s just the caring one would have for a friend’s kid, but I don’t think so, because his eyes roam—to her pert breasts, outlined nicely by the form-fitting dress she wears, to the line of her pelvic bone, and down below.

  Well, this calls for a different tactic, then.

  I stomp up the stairs and grab her by the hair. Spike loosens his grip and steps away. I make eye contact and project every nasty thought I have at him in that moment. He grins at me and I can’t tell if it’s excitement over all this action he’s seeing, or if he’s taunting me. He’s forcing my hand here and he knows it. We showed our cards too quickly by letting them see that the girl is here. Now I need to show strength, or this will not turn our way at all.

  I turn my attention to Tanner. “You know this guy?” I ask, jerking my head toward Kit.

  She nods, first hesitantly, then more vigorously. “He’s my dad’s second.”

  “He climbed over my fence to find you,” I say. “Kind of romantic, isn’t it? The valiant knight come to save the princess from the dragon.”

  She sucks in her bottom lip. Her eyes are huge in her beautiful face. She’s got a line of indentation on one cheek, like she might have been sleeping when Spike grabbed her.

  I look at Kit. He has his lips pressed into a line, his forehead wrinkling. Concern is all over his face.

  “Tanner,” he says.

  Tanner looks at him but I can’t read her expression. She closes her eyes.

  “You don’t get to say her name,” I say to Kit. “She’s mine now.”

  Kit looks at Tanner, back to me, back to Tanner.

  “Get on your knees,” I say to her. “You’re going to suck my cock like a good little girl, now.”

  Her eyes go wide, but she does as she’s told, slowly making her way to the ground, her bare legs scraping on the concrete. She’s barefooted, I notice for the first time. She’s a natural beauty, with no makeup and a simply ponytail. Somehow, though, she looks like a fucking model and I find that it’s not hard to get aroused at all just by looking at her.

  I unzip my pants and pull out my cock, rubbing my hand along its length a few times.

  “Open that sweet pink mouth for me, Tanner,” I say. “Show everyone just who you belong to.”

  I hold my hand in her hair. She opens her mouth, her eyes focused upward, meeting mine, staying there. She takes me into her mouth, at first tentatively. Her tongue swirls around the head and my cock hardens instantly. She moves her head, slowly increasing her movements.

  I nod ever so slightly. “That’s right. Take it balls deep, girl.”

  She takes me deeper. I can feel her trying to stop her gag reflex and it makes me wonder if she’s ever had a cock in her mouth before this. Not for the first time, I wonder if she’s got any sexual experience at all.

  I gently push at the back of her head, making her move faster. She hasn’t stopped looking at me. The connection between us is electric. If I weren’t trying to prove a point, I’d be ten inches into her pussy by now.

  “You can do better than this, love,” I say, cocking my head.

  I pull her head back now, and start to thrust.

  Chapter Five

  Tanner

  I fight back the urge to gag, at first. I’ve never done this before and while I’m total
ly freaked out to be doing it on the front steps of a mansion, with Kit and a dozen other guys watching, I’m more worried I’m not doing it right.

  I close my eyes to stay in the moment. He moves my head back and forth at a pace he likes, controlling me. I take his cues and listen to his commands because, at baseline, I want to make him happy. I want to make him feel good because if he feels good, then it’s really me who has the control, right?

  I mean, I know I should be embarrassed or angry. To be put in this position of vulnerability, to be debased like this, it’s disrespectful. And confusing, I guess, since he’s obviously tried to stop anything sexual between us up to now. But I’m not mad or embarrassed at all. In fact, I feel a deep, deep want unfurl in my core, a desire to go further, to be closer. This is turning me on.

  When he tips my head back and thrusts, I have to force my throat to stay open, to take the length of him. I hear moaning and realize it’s coming from me, from deep inside my throat as I take all of him. I work my tongue along the shaft as he picks up the pace.

  “That’s it, baby. Take all of it,” he says. It’s barely a whisper, an encouragement just for me, he says. “Just a little longer.”

  I open my eyes and his gaze is right there. It’s dark and hungry and focused. It’s like we’re alone. He wants this. He likes it. And I want to feel him come for me.

  He doesn’t break our connection, just stays totally focused on me, giving me soft words of encouragement until I feel the salty release start to slide down my throat. I swallow, and when he’s fully spent, he withdraws, tucks himself back into his jeans, and holds a hand out to help me up.

  He pulls me in front of him then and meets the eyes of Kit and the other Grave Robbers, who watch with varied expressions. Two of the guys are sporting active wood. Kit, however, looks revolted, his mouth turned down in a deep grimace.

  Griz reaches around, one hand snaking up under the hem of my dress and to my inner thighs, pushing away my panties, slipping a finger into my folds. I’m surprised once more to find myself wet for him. Drenched, in fact, and as his lips meet my ear he says, “Good girl.”

  My hips move forward ever so slightly, pushing into his touch. He chuckles a bit, splaying his other hand over my dress-covered breast, pinching at the nipple underneath. His fingers find my clit and he strums it like a guitar string. I lean back into him, wanting nothing more than for him to play me straight to the edge.

  “Sorry, Kit,” Griz says. “As you can see, this young thing has been well and fully claimed. She’s mine, and she’s not going anywhere with you.”

  Kit starts to step forward, his hands in tight balls at his sides, but thinks better of it when a third gun ends up pointed at him. These four guys are outnumbered. There’s no way he can fight for me and get out of here unscathed.

  He puts his hands back up in surrender. His eyes meet mine and I’m surprised to be able to hold his gaze long enough that it’s he who looks away first. He scowls and says, “We’ll go quietly. We’ll let Draven know that his daughter is sucking cock on your doorstep like a common whore. That should go over real well.”

  “Great,” Griz says, his fingers still working my clit, his tone slightly bored. “We’ll be here. Probably naked. Show up again and we’ll blow your heads off.”

  Spike makes a hand motion and several of Griz’ men flank the Grave Robbers, walking them to the front gate. As they disappear, Griz lets go of me and I feel disappointed, somehow. I mean, what did I expect? He had me blow him in front of an audience as a power play. This whole thing was for show to piss off Kit, to send a message to my father. But it felt like something more. I’m inexperienced, but I know what sexual chemistry is and we have it.

  He walks me back inside, and I look at the floor. Whoever that woman was—the one who got wet sucking a guy off in public—she’s gone now. I feel used and ashamed. But also … wanting. I still feel his hands on me. I still taste him in my mouth. I still want him.

  I don’t know how to feel. I guess that’s how he wants it.

  # # #

  Griz

  Fuck. That was not how I wanted that to go. I wanted Tanner to stay inside. I wanted Kit and his men to leave unsure of whether she was here or not. Then I could have toyed with them, worked more of an angle.

  But fucking Spike, hopped up on whatever, had to bring her out and force my hand. When we say we’ve laid claim to someone, we need to mean it. And I’ve played Mr. Nice Guy with this woman for long enough.

  We head into the bedroom. I shut the door and order her to shower. She starts to protest, but when she sees whatever sour expression I’m sporting, she shuts her trap. She starts the water, undresses, and gets inside.

  I watch her through the glass door like some creep. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, as she makes a show of soaping her body, spending a good amount of time between her legs and over her taut nipples.

  She’s got a beautiful body, this Tanner Williams. I think she’s only just beginning to discover the power she could wield with it, too. As I watch, my cock strains against the confines of my jeans. I cross my arms over my chest and assume a position of power. I will not lose control with this girl. She means less than nothing to me, which means I can control my fucking self.

  She steps out and the water slides over her skin. She dries off and then heads to the sink to clean her teeth and brush her hair. She stays naked for this whole rigmarole, as if she’s trying to drive me crazy. It’s kind of working, though I refuse to let any part of me show it. Even the part that has a mind of its own.

  Once she’s satisfied, she turns. “What now?” she asks.

  I can’t take my eyes off of her beautiful lips, lips that just sucked me dry. I stare at them a long time, savoring the moment when she licks her bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth, a sure sign of nervousness in spite of her best efforts to look calm and confident.

  “I’ll ask the kitchen to make us some dinner,” I say. “There’s a black dress in the bag I sent. Put it on. “

  She obeys and I make a mental note that she might be fun to play Dom and Sub with later, watching as she pulls on the slinky black dress and nothing else. She leaves her hair wet but twists it into a braid that falls over one shoulder, tying it with one of Shannon’s pink hair ties.

  I lead her to the dining room, which has been cleared of other club members and set just for us. Chef comes out as soon as we arrive, explaining the menu and asking Tanner if there are any dietary restrictions she should know about. Tanner says no, and we’re presented with a bottle of wine.

  “Are you even old enough to drink?” I ask.

  “Yes, but I don’t drink much,” she says. “I’m twenty-three, by the way.”

  “Ah,” I say.

  “How old are you?” she asks, sipping her wine. Her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, a pleased smile on her face as she takes another sip. “That was better than I expected it to be.”

  Her obvious pleasure and pleasant surprise make my cock twitch again. I take a drink from my own glass and then say, “Twenty-nine.”

  “Young to run a club,” she says, picking at a piece of bread nervously.

  “I guess,” I say. “It’s a lot of headache.”

  “Why do you do it?”

  “Because I was asked to follow someone else’s lead but that never felt right. I had my own ideas about how a club should run. so I built what I wanted. And I’m a stubborn son-of-a-bitch when I put my mind to something.”

  She nods and looks around the room. “Yes, I’ve noticed that,” she says.

  A staff member comes in and delivers a soup course. She waits for me to take my first bite before she digs into hers. When she takes her first sip, her eyes close and her lips curl as a soft sound of satisfaction escapes her lips.

  “Kit is in love with you,” I state.

  She opens her eyes. “He wanted to claim me for himself. That was jealousy, not love.”

  I tilt my head in question.

  “He’s of
fered to marry me several times. My father hasn’t said no, so Kit takes it as a yes,” she says. “In all honesty, he’s’ nearly old enough to be my dad and it creeps me out.”

  I consider this as we eat. So Kit came because he really did plan to be the valiant knight who would save the princess. He thought if he could retrieve Tanner and deliver her home safely, Draven would reward her to him as a prize. It’s kind of pathetic, really, but I get his motivation. All clubs are political. Kit would want to set himself an easy path to leadership, ready to step right in once Draven steps down or croaks.

  “He wasn’t even supposed to see you,” I say. “I intended to leave him guessing.”