He Doesn’t Care: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Motorcycle Club Romance (Fourstroke Fiends MC)

by Naomi West

  His sky-blue eyes locked onto her and narrowed in an expression of barely-controlled intensity, Owen put his hands onto her hips once again, this time moving his palms up and down along the curves of her hips. Carey closed her eyes, taking sweet pleasure in the feeling of his touch, loving how his hands felt on her body.

  Then, without warning, he turned her around on her feet, put his right hand on her back, and bent her over. Carey gasped at the speed at which he took her from standing normally to bending her, her ass in the air in front of him. She felt his hands clasp down on her rear, slapping the flesh hard enough to make it sting and to send a wave of thrilled pleasure through her body.

  “Oh, fuck,” she said, the words slipping out.

  Owen growled slightly, still seeming just as much of a barely-tamed beast. He grabbed onto her hips once more, pulling her closer. Carey propped herself up on the edge of the bed, keeping her ass pointed up at Owen. But as the two shifted their weight, the floor beneath them let out a long, creaking moan, as if the foundation of the house itself was shifting.

  “Might want to be gentle,” said Carey in a sensual voice. “Don’t want to wreck the place.”

  “I’m ready to bring this house down around us,” said Owen, not missing a beat.

  Carey wiggled her ass slightly, a sly grin forming on her lips as she bit down slightly on the crook of her finger. Then, Owen placed the head of his cock on her sex, holding it there for a brief moment before driving it into her slowly, inch by inch. Carey let out a wild moan as he entered, her eyes going wide with surprise at just how full he made her feel. Once he was buried to the hilt in her, he held fast for a moment, letting her get used to just what it felt like to have that much cock inside her. Carey gripped hard onto the bedframe, her eyes winced shut in pleasure.

  Owen then began moving in her, slowly at first, but soon picking up to a deep, full pace. His hands held hard onto her hips, one occasionally rising up and coming down onto her ass with a hard slap that rang through the still air of the bedroom. Carey had never had a man spank her like that, and she was a little surprised with herself at just how good it made her feel.

  “You like when I slap your ass?” he asked as he pounded her, his voice gruff.

  “Fuck, yeah,” she said, feeling herself turn more sexual by the moment. “Slap it hard; fuck me so good.”

  He did just that, bringing his hand onto her ass again and again, the pleasure and pain shooting through her body, each strike on her firm, ripe flesh bringing her closer and closer to the orgasm that she could feel stirring inside of her.

  Owen continued to buck into her wildly, his hips slamming into her rear as he buried himself in her over and over again. Carey couldn’t take it any longer—a thundering orgasm tore through her body, the pleasure like nothing she’d ever experienced before. She moaned and screamed as the sexual delight rushed through her, the feeling extending all the way from her pussy to the tips of her fingers and toes. She worried that she might collapse right then and there.

  Grunting hard, Owen came soon after her. Clapping his hands on her ass one last time, Owen shuddered and shook as he released himself into her, that same animal growl that drove Carey wild sounding out from the deepest parts of him. Carey took sweet delight at the feeling of him exploding inside of her, knowing that his long, thick cock was shooting deep, so very deep into her.

  Soon, the two of them were done, their bodies spent completely. The house gave out one last groan, and the two of them couldn’t help but chuckle. Then, Owen pulled out and yanked his pants back up to his waist.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said.

  Chapter Six

  Carey

  Carey felt strange as she put her clothes back on. As they got dressed, Owen seemed to her to be more distant, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that now that he’d gotten what he wanted out of her, that was it—time to pack up and get home. Indeed, once he was dressed, he made for the bedroom without saying a word, apparently simply assuming that Carey would follow him. Having no choice, that’s just what she did.

  “Um, where to now?” she asked.

  “Not sure,” he said. “Hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

  Carey felt more and more foolish by the second. Looking over Owen, taking note of his tattoos, thinking about just what kind of man he was, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d been played somehow, that he’d swindled her. She wondered what if all of this, the whole day that they’d had, had been some sort of plan from the start to get into her pants?

  There’s no way a man like him, some biker criminal, treats girls like this for any other reason than getting a quick fuck here and there, she thought.

  Heading down the stairs, she felt her mood plummet. Carey wasn’t sure what she wanted, possibly nothing more than reassurance that he wasn’t planning on tossing her to the curb. But even asking that struck her as desperate and insecure. She felt she had no recourse for how she felt, no way to feel better.

  What the hell was I thinking? she asked herself, rubbing her arms with her hands in an effort to self-soothe. I just gave it up to some biker guy that I’d just met. What am I, some kind of slut?

  As soon as they stepped outside, Carey’s mood hit its nadir. All she wanted was to get back to Lily’s, to get under the covers of the bed in the shitty little room where she was staying and to forgot about everything that had happened.

  “Can you … take me home now?” she asked.

  Owen turned his eyes to her, his thick eyebrows slightly raised. “Back to Lily’s?”

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice small.

  “You got it.”

  He hopped back on the bike and she followed after him. When her arms were around him, however, the feeling of his body against hers was now more like a mockery of how she’d felt before. Where his touch and scent had been intoxicating, now it was repelling, just a reminder of how she’d foolishly given in to her passions with this man who she barely knew. The motorcycle roared to life, and soon they were on their way. Carey spent the ride to Lily’s scolding herself, wishing that she could go back in time and resist her urges.

  I mean, the sex was great, she thought, but now what? What else can I expect from a man like this?

  Then a sinking feeling hit her gut.

  Oh, God, she thought, what if my family found out? They’d disown me for sleeping with a man like this, especially since they’re trying so hard to get me set up with that little asshole Brady.

  Her mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and restless thoughts. Carey had no idea why she was now feeling so overwhelmed by everything, but she knew that she’d made a mistake. Now, all she could do was go home and hope to put it out of her mind as quickly as she could.

  What do I even want? she thought, still holding tight onto Owen. For this guy to tell me he loves me or something? Guys like this don’t say things like that. Guys like this do exactly what he just did—wow some girl, fuck her, and move on to the next one. I bet he’s got a damn stable of biker chicks who he can fuck on command. I was probably just a little break from routine.

  They soon arrived back at Lily’s place. By the time the bike pulled up in front of the house, Carey was eager to get off and back inside to start the process of putting this day behind her.

  “See you around,” said Owen, his voice as cool and calm as ever.

  “Bye,” said Carey, hopping off of the bike and scrambling towards the door, not looking back once.

  The bike roared as Lily reached the front door. Once inside, Carey was greeted with the sight of Lily seated at the dining room table, a pile of applications in front of her that she was eagerly filling out.

  “Hey!” she said, her voice chipper. “Was that a, uh, motorcycle that I just heard?”

  The last thing Carey wanted to do was to explain the events of the afternoon to Lily. Carey realized that if she was that hard on her own brother for running around with guys like Owen, she likely wouldn’t be too pleased that her friend
had fucked him.

  “No,” said Carey. “I mean, yes. I got a taxi and a motorcycle passed us by while he was dropping me off.”

  Smooth, thought Carey, realizing that lying had never been one of her strong suits.

  “Oh,” said Lily, apparently not too interested in figuring out if Carey was telling the truth or not. “Anyway, how did the job hunt go?”

  Fuck, thought Carey. Not like I made any progress on that front either. One more thing to lie about, I guess.

  “Nothing too promising,” she said, plopping into a seat across from Lily.

  “Oh, well that’s fine,” said Lily, “because I got, like, ten leads on jobs. I went to a bunch of restaurants in the nice part of town outside of the downtown area and a bunch of them were hiring. And plenty of them said that they’d be interested in two waitresses, assuming you’re into that kind of work.”

  “Um, sounds great,” said Carey. “But I still have to check in with that artist in town who I’m gonna be working with.”

  “Okay, well, do that tomorrow and then we can get the job thing figured out. Then, after that, we can start looking at apartments!”

  She then let out an excited squeal as she balled her hands into tight little fists. Carey, however, couldn’t muster up matching enthusiasm.

  “What’s up, girl?” asked Lily, putting down her pen.

  “Nothing,” she said, looking away.

  “That bummed about having to work for a living?”

  “No,” said Carey. “I’m just really exhausted for some reason.”

  “Oh, that’s looking for jobs for you. It always wears me out too for some reason, even if it’s just picking up applications. We can go grab some food later; that’ll do you some good.”

  Carey hated lying, but she felt even worse about how the day had gone. And still, despite herself, all she could see when she closed her eyes were Owen’s ice-blue eyes, locked in that same sultry expression that they had when he’d looked her over just before pouncing on her with a kiss. She couldn’t help but feel the damage was done—he’d gotten under her skin, and now all she could do was figure out how to live with it.

  Chapter Seven

  Carey

  The next week passed without incident. Carey and Lily started part-time jobs at a local upscale restaurant, and Carey’s internship with the artist was about what she expected. The artist reminded Carey of the self-absorbed, too-cool-for-school girls that she went to class with, except all grown up and making a living from her work. The internship took place at the artist’s large loft in the bohemian part of town, and involved Carey mostly performing grunt work like fetching supplies and cleaning up messes. It wasn’t glamorous, but between it and the restaurant gig, Carey was happy to have something to occupy her mind.

  After all, she still couldn’t stop thinking about Owen.

  It was as though he’d invaded her mind and taken up residence in there. Even though she was certain that all he’d wanted from her was what he’d already gotten, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking of him constantly. At her weakest moments, she found herself fantasizing that the day they’d spent together had meant as much to him as it did to her, and that at any moment he’d pull up in front of the restaurant or the artist’s loft on his bike, fix those killer blue eyes on her, and nod for Carey to drop whatever she was doing, to climb on the back of his bike so he could take her to parts unknown.

  But she dismissed all of that as the silly fantasy that it was.

  Still, that didn’t mean that her ears didn’t perk up whenever she heard the rumbling growl of a motorcycle off in the distance. Carey hated that she felt like such a silly little child, but she couldn’t help it—Owen had left his mark on her.

  “Okay,” said Lily, her computer in front of her at the small table in the coffee shop where the two girls sat, “I’ve got it narrowed down to these two places.”

  She turned the laptop around, the screen filled with two separate apartment listings in two Internet windows.

  “I liked the two-bedroom in the townhouse, the one with the fake fireplace. It was so cute. Buuut … a little pricey. The apartment was nice too, but it’d be kind of a hike to work. What do you think?”

  “I think they’re both good,” said Carey, her mind someplace else.

  Lily lowered her eyes at Carey and shut the computer.

  “Okay, girl,” she said. “You’ve been acting like this for the last week. What’s up? Are you pissed you came out here?”

  “No,” said Carey. “It’s not that at all. It’s just that, um, I don’t know …”

  “Is it a guy?”

  Carey thought fast. She didn’t want to go on about Owen, but she knew she couldn’t keep lying and pretending that there was nothing wrong. She had to give Lily something to throw her off the trail.

  “I mean, it is. Kind of. It’s just that I haven’t dated a guy for a really long time, and I’m just getting a little tired of being single. But I have no idea how I’d meet anyone in a town like this.”

  “Finally!” said Lily. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to realize that there’s more to life than practicing your damn art all day? We need to get you a man!”

  Carey realized at that moment that she’d bitten off more than she could chew. She knew that Lily was the type of girl who was single-minded when she fixed her mind on something, especially when that “something” involved playing matchmaker.

  “And, lucky for you,” she said, “I’ve got just the thing in mind.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Carey.

  Right at that moment, the engine of a motorcycle cut through the quiet ambience of the coffee shop. Just as always, Carey’s ears perked up. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as a massive bike of chrome and black pulled into view, coming to a stop in front of the shop. Her heart rate quickened, and she did her best not to look over at the bike, eager to see just who was the man riding it.

  “Oh, speaking of the freakin’ devil,” said Lily, turning her attention, along with everyone else in the coffee shop, to the bike.

  Carey could tell right away that the lanky frame that clambered off the bike that it wasn’t Owen. And when she spotted the long blond hair trailing out from under the helmet, her heart sank just a bit as she realized it was only Liam.

  Liam strolled into the coffee shop, pulling off his helmet and giving a wave to the girl at the counter, who seemed more than happy for his attention. Once he bought his coffee, he flicked his head up towards the girls and took a seat at their table.

  “There you are,” said Lily, springing out of her seat and throwing her arms around her brother. “We were just talking about you.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, a cocky smile forming on his lips. “Hopefully not talking shit like you normally do.”

  “Me?” said Lily, touching her chest with her hands. “Never.”

  Lily’s eyes turned to Carey.

  “You look surprised,” she said.

  “Oh,” said Carey. “I just thought you guys were, like, fighting or something.”

  “Us?” asked Liam. “We fight every fuckin’ day. We’ve been fighting since we were old enough to walk over to the other and hit ’em upside the damn head.’

  “It’s how we show our affection,” said Lily. “Anyway, I was just about to tell her about what you’ve got in mind for my birthday this weekend.”

  Lily’s eyes flicked to Carey. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t forget, as usual.”

  She then flashed a warm smile that let Carey know it was all in good fun. Carey hated how absentminded she could be about matters like this, and made the same silent vow to keep track of these sorts of things that she made every time she was reminded of an approaching birthday that had slipped her mind.

  “Anyway,” said Liam, tossing his blond hair over his shoulder, “the boys and I were thinking we’d throw you a rager at my place this weekend. We’d provide the keg, the food—all the good s
hit. All you guys gotta do is show up.”

  “Well, I’d like to bring some of my friends from high school,” said Lily.

  “If you don’t mind them getting swooped on by bikers, then be my guest.”

  Liam and Lily both looked at Carey.

  “What’s up with you, chica?” asked Liam. “You look like you’ve seen a damn ghost.”

  “So,” asked Carey. “You’re saying that all of the, uh, Fiends will be there?”

  “Unless they’ve got something better to do,” said Liam. “But I can’t think of anything a biker would rather be doing than getting fucking hammered on a Saturday night.”