by Marie James
“I’ve had less painful injuries in the fucking war zone,” I complain around my finger.
“Please stop,” he grunts.
I look up, smiling around my finger when his heated glare stays pinned to my mouth.
With a quick shake of his head, he snaps himself out of whatever fantasy was playing in his mind. My eyes dart to the erection straining against his jeans.
He clears his throat and sits on the other side of the box.
“You’re covered in fucking tattoos and piercings, sitting here complaining about a paper cut? Nut the fuck up, man.”
I circle my tongue around the tip of my finger before releasing it with a pop that’s pulled his eyes back to my mouth for good measure. I’m sure the haze clouding his eyes matches mine.
“You going to help me with this shit or not?” I ask after watching his Adam’s apple bob on a rough swallow.
“Huh?”
“The bed thing, Itchy. Em said they need it for Griffin.”
He nods, the mention of the baby pulling his mind from illicit thoughts.
“Shadow has a fucking baby,” he mutters cutting open the end of the box with his pocket knife.
“Fucking crazy right? I can’t even imagine.”
We work in silence for over an hour, both refusing to look at the instructions and complaining about the fall of America to products made in China.
“Oh, thanks, by the way,” I mutter after snapping the last wheel in place. “If you and Idiot Biker had gotten more shit last night, I wouldn’t have sliced my finger open.”
“Papercut,” he chides.
“Cardboard cut,” I correct. “Ten times fucking worse.”
“Maybe,” he agrees. “I had a hard enough time keeping him from picking up a crack head and bringing her back to the clubhouse to worry about more than we were told to get. Shadow asked for diapers and formula, and that’s what he got.”
“Well, I got roped into shopping at the Bull’s Eye for three fucking hours,” I complain. “You can only look at new release DVDs and TVs for so long before you want to stab yourself in the eye.”
“I spent the last two hours cleaning out Kid’s old room so Shadow can stay in there while Misty recovers from her C-section. Besides, you were supposed to help Em shop for the baby shit,” he says stuffing the extra packaging into the empty box.
“I did. I helped her push three carts of baby crap out to the truck and pack-muled all that shit to Shadow’s room.” I hold my hand up for proof. “And I have the injuries to prove it.”
He laughs at my inability to forget about the cut on my hand.
“You want me to kiss it and make it better?” He’s asking about my hand, but his eyes never leave my mouth.
It’s my turn to swallow past the sudden dryness in my throat. I take a quick look around the room, pleased to find us still alone. “You can kiss something else.”
He smiles, flashing white teeth before they sink into his lip. “I’m pretty sure sucking it would feel better.”
Are we really doing this in the middle of the living room? My cock urges me on like a wingman at a sorority party.
“You want to suck my cock, Itchy?” I haven’t verbalized my wishes since the hotel shower.
“So fucking bad.” The gravel and need in his voice echoes in my rock hard dick.
My back stiffens, and Itchy’s eyes dart to the front door when the knob turns. Snapper and Snake laugh their way into the clubhouse, none the wiser to the conversation we were just having, but it doesn’t stop the freak out from starting.
“Don’t,” Itchy hisses, his eyes following the happy twosome to the sofa twenty feet away. Eventually, his eyes find mine. “Don’t shut down on me.”
Before I can respond, Shadow converges on us. “Is it ready?”
He’s exhausted, dark circles under his eyes only the first clue he probably hasn’t slept since Misty showed up yesterday.
“Yeah,” Itchy says collecting a stray bolt from the ground.
Shadow’s eyes follow it until it disappears into the box with the rest of the trash. “Did you put it together right? Why are there pieces left over? I can’t have my son sleeping in some rigged up piece of shit.”
“Calm down,” Itchy says with a chuckle. “It’s safe, promise.”
“Son?” I ask. “You’re sure he’s yours.”
Shadow runs a hand over his beard. “He looks just like me.”
Itchy laughs. “He looks like a wrinkled old man.”
Shadow takes a menacing step in his direction. “He has my eyes.”
Itchy holds his hands up indicating he doesn’t want any trouble, but he still can’t manage to keep his damn mouth shut. “Snatch has your eyes, man. Doesn’t mean you’re his daddy.”
I glare at my best friend and back to Shadow, wondering if he thinks it’s weird that Itchy notices things like the color of my eyes.
“Yeah, well,” Shadow says with another rough grab at his beard. “The DNA test will be back in a few days.”
“Cool,” Itchy mutters, standing from the floor wiping down the front of his jeans and disappears down the hallway.
“I need a few minutes,” Shadow says looking past me at the front door. “Can you get this to Misty?”
“Sure, man,” I agree, but his back is already to me heading out the front door.
My cell dings, once again a text from Itchy.
Itchy: My room. 30 minutes. Darby and I will be ready for you.
I take my time delivering the bassinet to Shadow’s old room dragging the empty packaging out to the dumpster on the edge of the property.
My blood hums with the prospect of the planned clandestine meeting, and I realize thirty minutes is a long ass fucking time when it’s leading up to something you want so fucking bad. It’s as if I’m a kid again, waiting in my room until my parents come get me on Christmas morning.
“Hey,” Ace calls out from the front of the garage before I can make it back up the front steps of the clubhouse. “So Shadow’s the first daddy in the house, huh?”
I look around, noticing Shadow’s bike is gone. “Looks that way.”
He tilts back a beer even though it’s only noon. “I seriously thought Kid would knock Khloe up before Shadow would fuck up and have a baby show up on the front porch.”
“I’d keep your opinions to yourself, Ace. Shadow is on edge these days, and Kid’s not going to let any bullshit about Khloe slide.” He grumbles some bullshit about the club being taken over by unavailable women and babies before turning around and disappearing into the garage.
I can’t be bothered by his disgruntled attitude over Misty showing up with a baby; I have a guy inside waiting to suck my dick. My priorities are straight. Besides, bitching about something beyond my control is pointless.
Chapter 17
Itchy
“Fuck,” I hiss when Darby takes me to the back of her throat. “You have an amazing mouth.”
Coming up for air, she grins at the tip, licking the underside with a roll of her tongue so skilled I’d bet she took classes. “Shouldn’t we wait for Snatch?”
With fingers tangled in her messy blonde hair, I guide her back down my cock. “He’ll be here eventually.”
She pops again, playfulness sparkling in her eyes. “Maybe he wants to be the one sucking you off.”
I nearly blow in her mouth at the thought, but I know better. Snatch wants my mouth, my ass, but returning the favor isn’t something I anticipate ever happening.
I’m about to close my eyes, ignoring her words when the door into Snatch’s room opens and he walks inside. His eyes sweep to the door leading out of my room into the hallway, verifying that it’s locked. The notion sends a chill up my spine, anticipation going up a hundred levels. He wouldn’t be worried about getting walked in on unless he’s afraid of getting caught doing something he doesn’t want others to know. My mouth waters at the thought of sucking his cock.
“You couldn’t even wait for me?” His w
ords are teasing, but his eyes never leave Darby’s head as it bobs down my cock.
“She’s eager,” I placate.
Cold rushes the length of my dick when Darby pulls her mouth off. I relish the reprieve. Now that Snatch has joined us, his pleasure and the thrill I get from giving it to him is my only concern.
My eyes stay on him as his clothes disappear and hundreds of tattoos are revealed. God, he’s a work of art.
“He’s ready for your mouth,” Darby coos.
Snatch’s cock jerks at her words, and he fists it, squeezing hard. When I look down at her, I realize she’s said the words to Snatch, not me. Looking back at him, my sac tightens when I see his eyes on her mouth as she licks the weeping tip of my cock. His tongue sweeping his lower lip is almost my undoing.
“Come here,” she says holding her arm out and offering him her hand.
My heart stops when he closes the distance to the bed, eyes never leaving my cock.
I will fucking die if he even so much as breathes on my dick. I know cardiac arrest is in my future, but what a fucking way to go.
The bed dips under his weight, knee touching my thigh but he pauses, making no further attempt at contact.
Darby, always the one to keep things from getting awkward and the one to encourage whatever this shit is that’s building between Snatch and I, releases my cock and sucks the head of his in her mouth.
His eyes lock on mine, trapping me in his stare until his gaze lowers to my mouth. Having been with him, fucking countless women, I can tell by the stiffness in his spine and the way his hands hang loosely at his sides that Darby sucking his cock isn’t what he wants. He’s allowing it, not encouraging it. As skillful as her mouth is, we’re losing his focus, and she doesn’t even have a clue.
It’s not what I need.
His words from Costa Rica fill the room as if he’s transferring them to me telepathically. I nod in understanding, knowing I’ve guessed right when the tightness at the corners of his eyes relax.
“Let me,” I offer with a gentle touch to the back of her head.
“He couldn’t get enough of your taste yesterday,” she says softly before sucking one of his balls into her mouth. Her eyes meet mine. “He kissed me until the taste of your come was gone.”
Instinct and unfulfilled need make my hips roll against the mattress, grinding my erection into the tousled sheets.
“He wants to suck your cock, but he just doesn’t know how to ask for it,” she assures.
I close my eyes, working his cock exactly how I’d love him to work mine and push her words away.
“What are you guys whispering about?” Snatch grumbles.
After a final swipe of his balls, Darby pulls her head back a few inches to speak. “I was telling Itchy that you…”
I pinch her nipple until she yelps. There’s no way I can take the chance that she’s reading him wrong.
She glares at me, clears her throat and continues. “You should grab a condom from the drawer so Itchy can fuck me while he’s sucking you off.”
I give her a weak smile, thanking her for not telling him the truth.
Even she knows that Snatch would rather come in my mouth than inside of her, and the pain in her eyes is evident even though her words are contradictory. She’s well aware how one-sided this situation is, and it makes me feel like shit.
We reposition, Darby on her back ankles being held aloft in Snatch’s hands, exposing her beautiful pussy to me. He’s straddling her head, legs spread wide enough for her to still be able to suck and lick his sac without having to strain her neck. I position myself at her entrance, loving the slide of my cock into her heat before bending forward and reclaiming Snatch’s cock.
“Oh fuck,” he grunts as we lavish him with attention.
I don’t realize my hips are static until Darby’s abdomen flexes and bunches. She’s taking her own pleasure, fucking herself on me.
Sensation overload is an understatement as Snatch’s rough hand grips the back of my head, fingers flexing at my scalp. I suck harder, take him deeper, only come up for a breath of air when he allows it.
“He wants you, too,” she whispers licking her finger.
I watch, entranced, as her hand disappears behind his sac. His cock kicks so hard he nearly falls from my mouth.
“Holy shit,” Snatch groans. “Oh God.”
“Suck,” she urges.
I double my efforts, nearly coming myself when I watch her hand work inside of him. I hate that the minuscule movement of her hand is all I can see. I’d sell my soul for a front seat of the actual act.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck.” Snatch’s voice echoes in the room just before his cock thickens further and he orgasms.
I nearly choke on the heated flood but manage to swallow his offering. Darby’s pussy clenches around me as she claims her own release.
“Jesus,” I hiss pulling my mouth off of Snatch and my cock out of Darby.
My hand trembles when I rip the latex free of my cock, my orgasm barely holding back long enough to move my hand.
Jet after jet of come streaks Darby’s pussy and lower belly, and I’m amazed at how damned fast we all peaked.
Darby smiles up at me, her face half hidden in the shadows under Snatch’s body. I look up at him to see his eyes clenched tight and his chest struggling with uneven breaths.
“Let me get you a wash rag,” I offer climbing off the bed and heading into the bathroom.
I grip the edge of the sink, doing my best to regain my composure, the knowledge that Darby’s fingers were inside my best friend almost more than I can bare.
I stop cold in my tracks when I head back into the room. I hardly notice the warmth of the wash rag as it falls from my hand and lands on my foot. Half-mast cock, now fully erect, I stand in the doorway and watch Snatch as he devours Darby’s pussy like a gourmet meal.
Her eyes are closed, head tilted back digging into the pillow, but that’s not what makes me creep closer to the bed to get a better look.
The come I’d spurted onto her body is gone, licked and cleaned away by Snatch’s mouth. Normally the way he’s devouring her, fingers plunging deep would be what got my libido to an all-time high, but today it’s the clean milky expanse of her lower stomach.
My only regret is that I left the room and didn’t get the chance to see it on his tongue.
***
“This is nice,” Darby says sleepily.
We’re all three still in my room, never having left the bed after Snatch made Darby come twice more with his mouth. I watched, unable to look away as he took care of her like she’d given him a new house for his birthday and he was repaying her kindness. We didn’t talk about it of course, and I hate that Darby is in the middle rather than tucked into my side with Snatch on the other. But, beggars and choosers and all that.
My eyes look up at the door to the hallway when I hear Griffin cry as someone carries him toward the kitchen.
“That’s so fucking strange,” Snatch mutters, his eyes looking the same direction as mine.
“Tell me about it,” I agree.
“Not used to babies being around?” Darby asks one hand on each of our thighs under the blanket that covers us from the waist down but leaves her gorgeous tits exposed to the chilly air.
I huff a laugh. “Never. I mean Kincaid and Em are trying to get pregnant. That we’d be prepared for. Misty showing up with a baby after lying and pretty much tricking Shadow into knocking her up? We never saw that shit coming.”
Her fingers grip my thigh harder before she pulls her hand away completely.
“You guys don’t eventually want kids?”
“Fuck no,” Snatch hisses, answering my sentiments before I can get the words out.
I laugh at his response. “No babies for us, Darby. Our lives are too crazy, too dangerous for children.”
“Besides,” Snatch adds. “We’d never settle down long enough to raise a kid. We got too much fucking to do.”
He reac
hes over her head, fist clenched, expecting to bump with mine. I give him what he needs, just like I always will, but his confession of never settling down weighs heavy on my heart.
“I’d fucking die if some chick showed up with my kid,” he mumbles before climbing out of bed and pulling his jeans up his tattooed thighs. “Y’all hungry? Let’s go find something to eat.”
Darby sits up, eyes searching for mine, almost as if she wants to say something but can’t find the words. I’m the asshole who climbs off the bed, relieved she stays silent because the only thing I can think of is following Snatch to the kitchen.
Chapter 18
Snatch
“I’m not carrying your beer for you, asshole.” I look over at Snake whose arms are full of long necks.
“I can’t carry anymore,” he whines like a child despite being almost thirty years old.
“You can do one of two things. You can choose not to drink so much, or you can make two trips.”
I hear him grumble behind me, but I leave him to figure it out and head to the garage. A lot of us guys hang out there now that the house has been overrun with women. Brighton, Shadow’s older sister was at the clubhouse when we got home from a mission a couple of weeks ago. He said she was tasked with helping Misty with Griffin while he was gone, but it was quickly discovered that although in her mid-thirties she doesn’t know shit about kids.
Her arrival along with Misty still being around has created even more tension with the club girls. They’ve become snippy as hell, so us guys leave them to their shit and stay outside most of the time.
“Hey, man.” I clap Shadow on the back and take the empty chair beside him.
He doesn’t even acknowledge me, too busy working the label off of his beer bottle.
“His dog die?” I ask Kid.
“Woman trouble,” he mutters before taking a long swig from his beer.
“Fuck,” Shadow says pulling his eyes from his bottle and leaning back in his chair. “Women are nothing but trouble.”
