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

by Nicole Fox

  Grinning, Francesca picked up her purse off of the couch and stood in one fluid, graceful motion. “Sounds good; we’ll stop at 7-11. They serve smokes and drinks, but we might have to look elsewhere for the bullshit.” She eyed him, a crooked grin on her perfect, beautiful lips.

  Logan laughed, a loud, barking sound that echoed around their hotel room. Francesca laughed right back at him, and then hurried out of the door. It would take a while to get up into the hills, and Francesca’s stomach filled with butterflies at the idea. This was going to be wonderful; she would not only have an excuse to cling to Logan’s perfect body all the way up the hills, but she would also get to feel the thrill of being on his bike with him again. And that thought was enough to want to spend some time out in the savage, savage wilderness.

  # # #

  Logan

  Francesca nearly screamed with delight as the two of them took off on the bike. Her innocent delight at riding Logan’s bike was one of the million reasons he loved her.

  “Love? What I love about Francesca?” The thought was still so new and raw that it felt a little like lemon juice poured over paper cuts, but the word popped up in his mind over and over again. He loved Francesca? Yes, he did. He loved her like he’d never loved anything before, or would ever love anything again. She was the sun, the moon, the stars, and everything else he found beautiful about this world.

  It was so true, he couldn’t have convinced himself otherwise no matter what.

  They picked up some supplies, stuffed them into the saddlebags on Logan’s spare motorcycle, and sped up the hills. The road quickly turned from city streets to suburbs, then those turned in quieter, one-laned things that were steep and narrow. The going was a little dangerous, and Francesca clung to Logan as though she would fall off at any moment. He nearly laughed at her clinginess. It was easy to forget that not everyone had spent their whole lives astride one of these monsters, learning every motion and sound. After years straddling this particular saddle, Logan knew exactly how this bike would react to every situation. He knew how it should feel underneath him, how much power to hold back, and how much he should lean to one side or the other to keep the bike in perfect balance. Francesca’s weight, as slight as she was, added a little bit of an unknown to the balance, but he adjusted for it like the bike was part of his own flesh.

  It was a fine day out; the rains had brought a little warmth back into the air. Everything was cool and washed in sunlight, the rain completely soaked into the thirsty ground. The overlooks were going to look amazing, especially with the fiery, autumn leaves just starting to set all of the trees ablaze. He just hoped Francesca liked them as much as he did.

  After about an hour of driving, they pulled into one of Logan’s favorite overlooks. It was hidden from the road in a way that made it nearly impossible to spot, even when you knew what you were looking for. The spot was a little overgrown and small, but it was also private and beautiful, and it was one of Logan’s favorite places to go when he and his people would occasionally escape the confines of the MC’s warehouse to see a little sky.

  As they pulled off of the road and onto the path that lead back into the overlook, Francesca gripped Logan's shoulders a little hard, her nails digging into his arms in a way that reminded him of the night before. It sent a thrill through his veins.

  Much to Logan's delight, the overlook was just as stunning as he'd remembered. As his powerful bike roared once last time before falling silent, the stunning overlook came into full view. The leaves this far up had already started turning, the oranges, reds, and greens all blending together like a forest fire. The overlook was nearly at the top of the hill, leaving them with a nearly three-hundred-and-sixty degree view.

  Francesca slid off of the bike, her eyes wide, her hand pressed to the valley between her perfect breasts. She seemed to be having trouble catching her breath, scanning the view with a kind of awe he had been hoping to inspire.

  Getting off of the beaten path a little, Logan pulled a few branches out from the woods, filling the park's little fire pit with bits and pieces. He laid out a blanket for Francesca, and she sat down on the bit of cloth and watched him work. He took out a cigarette and a lighter, lighting both his smoke and the wood in the fire pit. Francesca watched him with curious, green eyes, her arms locked around her knees as he worked.

  “Have you done this a lot?” Francesca asked, watching as the little cones of receipt paper caught flame, slowly setting fire to the wood. Lucky for him, most of the small stuff was already dry after the rains yesterday, probably from the warm sunlight pouring through the trees. Logan worked quickly, feeding the fire little bits of wood until it was big enough to take one of the bigger, slightly damp logs.

  “Yeah. Sometimes the crew and I would come up here when I was younger; we'd make something of a camping trip out of it. We didn't have any money, so we had to come up with our own amusements.” Logan grinned, his mind filling with memories of his many visits to this very spot. “We learned pretty early on that as long as we stayed quiet and didn't destroy anything, the police would leave us alone. It was always the loud groups that got into trouble. We would spend most of our weekends up here.”

  Francesca set her chin down on her knees, her eyes following him around the campsite as he performed the chores necessary to keep the fire going. The sun was heading toward the horizon already, taking much of the light with it. It made the fire seem all the brighter; it glittered off of the side of his motorcycle like a Christmas display. By the time the sun set completely, Logan had everything set up. A large blanket took up most of the room by the fire. A bottle of wine waited for them along with a collection of cheap snack foods that were Logan’s favorites. Holding out his hand to her, Logan helped Francesca to her feet, twirling her around before sitting her down closer to the fire.

  Chuckling, Francesca glanced around at the odd collection of things waiting for them on the blanket. “So, what’s first?”

  Logan twisted the cap off the wine, taking a sip right from the bottle. He passed it over and Francesca stared at him for a long moment. He was pretty sure she was going to pass, but then she tentatively took the bottle with both hands and held it up to her mouth.

  “Wow,” she laughed, taking another sip of the wine. “That is unbelievably sweet. What is it?”

  “Some cheap dessert wine, I think. It gets better the more you drink, I promise.”

  They dug through the snacks, Francesca laughing at the names and started obsessively checking the ingredients. “Does this actually contain any real food, or is it just chemicals pushed through a tube?”

  “I think it might have a little food in there somewhere. But how about you try it first before you mock it?” Logan chuckled, sticking a few Cheetos Puffs into his mouth. “Have you never had a Cheeto?”

  Francesca made a face. “I don’t think so. They always looked so orange, like they were made from nuclear waste.” Looking a little ill, she put the puffy, cheesy thing in her mouth, chewing suspiciously. “Hey, these don’t taste as bad as I thought they would!” She took another from the bag, nibbling on it as Logan chuckled.

  “These things are one of my favorite snacks. I love these things.”

  Francesca’s face went serious all of a sudden, her eyes black in the dancing firelight. “I — Logan, thank you for all of this. For showing me your home. It means a lot. I — I’ve been wanting to — ” She paused for a moment, looking over the darkened landscape. “I’ve been hoping to get to know you better.”

  Logan glanced down at the ground, breaking a Cheeto in half. “There’s nothing much to get to know; my life isn’t glamorous or anything. It’s not like yours.”

  “But if it’s important to you,” she said, her voice wavering, “then I think it’s important, too.” Francesca turned away from him, her eyes studying the stars, which were coming on in force on this clear night. “They are important, because I love you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Francesca

/>   Well, now that she said it out loud, it sounded silly. Just putting it out there like that. Logan didn’t seem like the type of person to say those things to anyone, no matter what he felt. And Francesca had just made it weird. It would be even more weird to apologize or take it back now. “Shit. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.”

  Logan was still silent, and Francesca couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Silence reigned over their little campsite, the only sounds coming from the crackle of the fire pit.

  After a long moment, Logan brushed his fingers over her arm, making her jump a little in surprise. “Do you mean it?” he asked, his voice filled with hope and something like awe.

  Francesca let out a long breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Of course I do, Logan. I followed you out here, didn’t I? Risked my reputation to keep you out of jail. Did you think I did that for fun?”

  He chuckled. “Might be a mistake, saying you’re in love with a criminal, Francesca. What will people say?” his fingers caressed circles up and down her arm; she shivered, but not from the chill.

  “I don’t care what anyone says,” she answered, her voice thick with emotion.

  All of a sudden, Logan was kissing her, his mouth hungry, his hands holding her face pressed closer to his. “Francesca, I — I love you,” he whispered.

  And Francesca’s heart soared, swelling until it pressed against the confines of her chest. Everything ached, everything felt heady and light and beautiful. She was filled with the dizzying feeling of having drunk too much wine too fast. Filled with the thrill of driving too fast on an empty highway. She could feel the whole world spinning under her feet, and yet it seemed to all be frozen in place, holding its breath.

  With a cry, she threw herself forward, claiming his lips again, her tears turning their lips salty as they spilled down her face.

  “He loves me. I love him.” The sound of him saying he loved her echoed inside of her skull.

  There was a part, a tiny part of her in the dark recesses of her mind that whispered that Logan couldn’t love her. That they couldn’t belong together. But she told that tiny shadow in the back of her brain to go take a long hike off of a tall cliff.

  For now, all that mattered was the crackle of the fire, and his body close to hers. Logan, with a fire in his eyes hotter and brighter than the one that burned in the fire pit, tore off both of their clothing with a fervor Francesca had never witnessed in him before. His buried his face against the curve of her neck while hard, bruising fingers caressed every inch of her skin. Gasping, Francesca clung to him, her mouth kissing every inch of skin she could reach. Her lips traveled across his tattooed shoulders and up that beautiful, long neck of his. His scent was thickest here, that spicy raw scent of the man she loved.

  She inhaled deeply; she never wanted to forget this scent for as long as she lived.

  Sliding down his body, Francesca kissed every inch of him. Her mouth traveled along his arms, her teeth nibbling along the ridges of his arms and his wrists. One at a time, keeping her eyes locked with his, Francesca pulled each one of his fingers into her mouth, suckling them gently. Logan shuddered under her ministrations, his eyes hooded and dark with lust. But he let her take control, perhaps curious to see what she would do.

  She continued, caressing the curves of his chest and stomach muscles with teeth, lips, and tongue, tracing the long lines of his tattoos with her mouth. He made a small noise in the back of his throat as her kisses moved south down his perfect body. Logan’s hands came to rest on her shoulders and she got to her knees, bending over him for better access to his hips, his thighs, and eventually, the throbbing cock that stood at attention between his legs.

  Admiring that wonderful dick for a moment, Francesca tentatively ran her fingers over the spongy head of his glorious cock, unable to believe how soft the skin was that wrapped around him like silk. She pressed her lips to the head, kissing it softly. Logan’s hands began to move as she made out with his dick. He massaged her shoulders with his strong hands, moving up her back as Francesca took a hold of his manhood in one of her hands, squeezing gently as she put the tip of him in between her lips.

  Moaning, Logan took a hold of her hard enough to bruise. He pulled her to one side, giving him access to her pussy as she swallowed him, her mouth watering as she caressed him with her questing tongue. He fit into her willing throat, her lips sliding all the way to the base of him before pulling back up. Logan quivered underneath her.

  His fingers traveled her body as she sucked him, her head bobbing in a slow, sensual rhythm. His thumb found its way inside of her, nearly making her scream as she swallowed him again. The finger slid in and out of her wet opening, caressing her g-spot and sending pleased shivers through her whole, quaking body.

  The night air was cold against her boiling hot skin as Logan laid back, pulling one of Francesca’s legs effortlessly over to the other side of his head. She spread her legs for him willingly as she blew him. Much to her delight, she felt Logan’s tongue slide in between her legs, finding all of those spots that made her scream and twitch.

  “Oh God,” she said into the thin, night air. She ground shamelessly against his mouth, mewling into his cock like it was a microphone. “Logan, I love it when you eat me out,” she whispered, her voice ragged from pleasure. “But I need you inside of me. Right now.”

  Logan chuckled against her clit, sending thrills through her whole body. “Right now?”

  “God, please, yes.” She knew she was begging but couldn’t seem to stop herself.

  “As the lady wishes.”

  # # #

  Logan

  Fuck, everything Francesca did was hot. Logan climbed out from underneath her, getting to his knees as she stayed on all fours. Francesca was nearly panting with desire, her pussy dripping and ready for him to enter. He grabbed his cock in his left hand, guiding himself into her beautiful, tight cavern as she begged him to fuck her.

  It was too much, but not enough. No, Logan would never have enough of Francesca. Even if he had her every day for the rest of their lives, it still wouldn’t be enough. He’d still dream about sinking deep into her body as she cried his name like a prayer into the night’s sky. Sliding into her slick pussy from behind almost made him cum right then; he had to pause for a moment to collect himself, to force himself not to end this too quickly.

  “Logan!” Francesca begged, her hands clamping hard onto the picnic blanket below them. “That feels so good.”

  Logan put his thumb into his mouth, licking the taste of her off of his fingers. She was salty and sweet and, oh God, she was everything he had ever wanted.

  He slid in and out of her body with a rhythm that seemed so natural and right. Everything about her seemed to be a puzzle piece in his life that was missing from the beginning; she was a part of his soul and their flesh melded together perfectly, like this was meant to be.

  Francesca’s body gripped him hard as he thrust into her from behind, the cold autumn air caressing his skin like a thousand fingers. The fire burned down to embers as he watched, leaving the beautiful views visible in the moonlight. The stars twinkled, making the night almost seem alive around them.

  Moaning, Francesca pressed her face into the soft cotton of the picnic blanket, her cries muffled as she thrust back against his hips with her own, forcing Logan’s cock deeper and harder inside of her.

  Grinning wickedly, Logan leaned back, picking Francesca up and pulling her into his lap. He slid her down carefully onto himself, moaning a little as her silky, wet insides gripped him again. Francesca gasped, glancing over her shoulder as she moved her hips in an experimental circle. The cry that spilled from her mouth lit every nerve of Logan’s on fire, and he lifted his hips, slamming into her from underneath as she rode him.

  “Holy shit, Francesca,” Logan groaned, the feel of her hips sliding along his was undoing him. Soon he would be too far gone to stop from tipping over the edge. “Francesca, Francesca,” he whispered, “I love you, Frances
ca.”

  The woman, so perfect and beautiful, graceful and lovely, inhaled sharply, slamming her hips against his as she shuddered to a halt. Her body closed around his cock like a vice, caressing him, stroking him, until he climaxed, too.

  Francesca made a long, slow moan in the back of her throat as she panted, her head thrown back in quiet, loving ecstasy. Logan suddenly wished he had a camera and could capture this moment forever. But instead, he lay there, tangled up with her as the cold air swept over their little campsite.

  After a few minutes to catch her breath, Francesca turned and collapsed on top of him. “Let’s say we build that fire back up before we freeze to death, okay?”

  So he did, the two of them cuddling and stoking the fire until well past midnight.

  And there was nowhere in the world either of them would have rather have been.