Find Her: Avenging Angels MC Book 1

by Nia Farrell

  “And what about Vance? What’s he doing?”

  “Lubing himself with massage oil,” she breathed.

  “Lean forward, princess. I’m going to put on a condom and stick the head of my cock in your pussy. I want you to work it in enough to sit on me. Keep watching,” he warned. “Tell me what you see.”

  Rose sank onto his length, inch by inch, until he more than filled her. Pushing herself up, she settled onto him, filled with him, watching the roller derby queen get taken by two men at once.

  “J.C. is holding her hips while Vance sticks his cock in her ass,” she said. “Now Vance is holding her, cupping her breasts for J.C. to suck on while he fucks her.”

  “Are your pussy lips swollen?” he asked. “Does watching this make you tingle? I know it’s made you wet.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Can I—may I touch myself, Sir?”

  “No.” He bit her ear, then sucked on it. He shoved his fingers in the cleft of her legs and cupped her mound. “This pussy is mine,” he growled. “Mine to touch. Mine to play with. Mine to fuck. Like your mouth. And your ass. Think you can handle me there, princess? I promise, it will be easier than fucking two men at once. Definitely better than taking on ‘The Titanic.’”

  Rose went still, keeping his cock buried inside her. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “Maybe.”

  Good enough.

  “I want you to lean forward, princess. Put your hands under my thighs and help brace yourself. That’s it. Good girl.”

  Presented with a lovely view of her backside, he wet his thumb and teased her anus. Rimming it with the pad of his finger, he pressed the center of the puckered ring and pushed his way inside.

  “Fuck me, Rose,” he growled. “Fuck my cock. Fuck my thumb. That’s just a taste of what’s coming. I need to get you loosened up. You’re so goddamn tight.”

  She moved experimentally, pushing back, easing forward, pushing back again. Growing bolder as the minutes progressed, she didn’t just push, she shoved herself back, until she was ramming his cock and using him like a double dildo.

  “Hold on, princess,” he said. “Let’s try it. I’m going to put my cock in your ass. I need you to bear down like you’re doing something and let me in. Are you ready?”

  She shot a look over her shoulder at him. “What if I say no?”

  He slapped her ass for her sass. “You’ll get spanked, then fucked. This is happening, princess. You’re primed for it. Just relax. Relax, push back, and your body will let me slide in. Trust me, you don’t want to tense up and make me push through. Sliding is so much easier.”

  Michael pulled out of her pussy and replaced his thumb with his dick. Notching his head in the center of her hoop, he slowly pulled her back onto him and eased his way inside, giving her body time to adjust to his possession.

  “How we doing, princess?” he crooned. “It feels fucking fantastic from here. You okay? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

  “I think so,” she managed, panting softly. “The stretch—it burns. You’re so big.”

  “And every inch is inside you, princess. No bottoming out and making you cry. Just warm walls, gripping me. Come here. Lean back. I want to play with your tits and your clit.”

  He used the fingers of his clean hand on her breasts, teasing her sensitive nipples, pinching, pulling, twisting them. Her body responded, grinding down on him until he was balls-deep inside her.

  With the index and middle fingers of his other hand, he stroked her swollen labia, found her seam, and opened it from back to front, exposing the sensitive button of flesh at its crux. Coaxing her clit from its hood, he alternately circled and fanned it with his fingertips, making Rose even wetter and more than willing to move.

  It was small strokes at first, the barest in and out. Being on top, she had all the control—and that was okay, for now. He wanted her first time to be so good, she would want to repeat it.

  Michael kissed the side of her neck, sucking, licking, scoring it with his teeth. He pinched her clit and breast at the same time, making her buck and writhe. Impaled on his cock, she went from riding him like a new student to a seasoned rodeo pro. The next time that she came close to her orgasm, instead of backing off, he pushed her through it, biting the back of her neck while her body spasmed and tightened around him.

  He held her fast and pushed in deep, climaxing and filling the end of his condom. When they got back home, they were going to the clinic. Once both of them tested clear, it would be bareback from there. He wanted skin to skin with Rose, with nothing between them. He wanted to fill her with his cum. Mark her as his own. Hell, he could even see giving her the kids that she said she wanted.

  One of these years.

  Rose leaned heavily against him, replete. “Stay,” he murmured, not ready to leave her just yet. In a few hours, there would be another phone call, hopefully with good news. But he’d seen enough action to know that even the best-laid plans could go to hell in the blink of an eye. One wrong move, and she might be facing a future with one parent.

  Or none.

  The situation in Diamond Springs was out of his hands. All he could do was be here for Rose, keep her safe, and wait for the next call to come.

  * * * * *

  It wasn’t the phone that woke him. It was Rose, whimpering in her sleep, still trapped in the nightmare that she’d lived through.

  “Princess,” he whispered, smoothing her hair away from her face. “I’m here. You’re safe. Wherever you are, come back to me, Rose. I’m here. You’re safe. Come back to me, Rose.”

  Michael crooned the word softly, gently, repeating them with strokes of her hair. Eventually, she settled.

  Eventually, the call came.

  This time, with the passwords.

  Mama Mare was back, and they’d be going home.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “She said to leave it.”

  Michael spoke over the giant stainless steel mixing bowl that he was holding, while Rose stood in the middle of the pantry, looking at the food that they’d brought, wondering what her mother was thinking.

  “The canned goods, I can see. But the noodles? Pasta? Rice? All this stuff?” She pointed to a section of similar packages. “It will get buggy, Michael! Or mice will get into it. That’s what happens when you just leave it on a shelf. Hey, wait a minute!”

  She started filling the mixing bowl with groceries. “Anything not canned, I’m putting in the fridge. Next person can take it out and put it back in the pantry, bug-free and ready to use. God, I’m a genius.”

  “Never doubted it,” he quipped.

  “Never should,” she fired back, then softened after she said it. “Thank you, Michael. Before I get too busy and forget to tell you, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you to anchor me these past few days.”

  At least her family was safe. She’d insisted on hearing their voices.

  “My pleasure,” he rumbled.

  “And mine—for the most part.” She shot him a look over her shoulder. “I still haven’t forgiven you for the pickle and vinegar.”

  He tsked and shook his head. “You will,” he promised. “You’ll think of all the other things that I could have done, and realize how easy I went on you. But you’ll never forget the lesson.”

  No, she’d never forget the lesson.

  They had already washed the sheets and towels, remade the beds, and loaded their clothes in Michael’s SUV. Her purse and his carryon with computers and electronics were ready by the door. The kitchen was the last on their list before leaving.

  Rose chewed her lip, looking at what was left. “Leave the beer, too?”

  “Yes, princess. That’s what she said. But let’s fit what we can in the fridge. Out here, it’s good for 6 months or so. Chill it, and you can keep it three or four times that long.”

  Given the size of the refrigerator, they were able to rearrange things and fit more beer into it. They loaded the cooler in his SUV and did a walk-through of the en
tire house. Finding everything in order, they grabbed the last of their things and locked up behind them. With the computers loaded, they climbed into the front seats, buckled up, and headed back to Diamond Springs.

  The closer they got to town, the more nervous Rose grew. Yes, she’d talked to her family, but who knew what they would find when they got back to the clubhouse? There had been attacks, an invasion, a kidnapping, a rescue. Guns had blazed at the strip club. How many Angels had been wounded?

  How many men were dead?

  “Settle,” Michael crooned, reaching over to take the hand that she was rubbing on her thigh. “Fretting is wasted energy. It changes nothing, princess. Save yourself for when we get there, and be ready to show the Angels that you’re mine. That I’m your Sir. Even if you can’t come home with me right away, we need to let everyone know how it is. Otherwise, they’re going to think that I took advantage of their princess, and I do not need club members picking fights with me.”

  The picture that came to mind made her smile.

  “Think that’s funny, do you?” he growled. “Handling your family’s going to be bad enough. I fucking guarantee the other sixty-one members won’t be nearly as nice.”

  Just as quickly as it came, her smile disappeared. “I’m sorry. I had this mental image of you facing off with the Angels and going all Bruce Lee on them.” She’d never seen him fight, but she’d heard stories about his Marine RECON days with her brother. Mad Dog was probably the only Angel who could come close to taking him on.

  “I’ll try my best to avoid it,” he promised. “Let’s find your mom and dad first. Once we’re clear with them, I want to talk to Mad Dog. He needs to know that I’m serious about us. That I want you in my life, in my home—even if I have to wait…and I will. After talking to your mom, it will be your call to make. If she needs you there, I understand. I hope not,” he added. “If memory serves, you have a twin bed. We’ll have to spoon to sleep on it. Then again, that wrought iron headboard is built for kink.”

  Picturing her bed, she could easily imagine him there with her, adding restraints, cuffing her wrists and ankles to the frame, clamping her nipples, and indulging in sensory play that would have her writhing, desperate for his possession.

  Fuck.

  “You’re blushing, princess.” Michael smirked. “If you like the thoughts of us in your bed, just wait until you see mine. I’m already thinking of all the things that I can do to you, once I get you there.”

  He started describing them in detail, distracting Rose enough, she barely noticed the last miles passing. The clubhouse was on the far side of town. The most direct route took them by Angel Ink—or where Angel Ink once was. The historic building was gutted, a blackened reminder of the nightmare that she’d lived through.

  “Remember what I said,” Michael instructed her as they pulled into the compound and headed for the parking area closest to the clubhouse kitchen. “I’m going to bring my computers in with us and stash them in your room, in case I need them. It’s either that, or run them by home. I can’t leave them in the car or the heat will play havoc with them.”

  Rose angled her head and narrowed her eyes. “It’s not just an excuse to see my bed?”

  Michael grinned. “Well, maybe that, too. Here we go.”

  He came to a stop, put the transmission into park, and turned off the motor. Without the air conditioner, the sun immediately began to warm the interior. It was only ten AM. The day promised to be a scorcher.

  “Computers first. Cooler next. Everything else follows, comprende?”

  Rose nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  Michael grabbed his carryon. Rose got her purse that held makeup and toiletries and followed him into the clubhouse kitchen.

  It was between breakfast and lunch, and the communal kitchen was deserted. They hadn’t gotten ten feet inside before her mother came running. “Rose! Rose! Oh, babygirl!”

  Tears stung Rose’s eyes, blurring her vision, but not before she’d seen that her mother looked unscathed by her ordeal. There was no visible bruising. Her face was untouched, thank God. In one of her nightmares, her mother had been beaten and disfigured.

  Her mother’s face crumpled with concern. “Oh, baby,” she whispered, hugging her fiercely, then drawing back to wipe the tears from Rose’s cheeks. “There, there, now. Don’t you cry, or I’m gonna start, and I’ll be damned if I let the sweetbutts see me like that.”

  Rose sniffed and jerked a nod. “I’m trying, Mama. I’ll try. I’m just so fucking glad to see that you’re okay. I was so scared.”

  “Knowing that you were safe helped me stay strong.” She managed a shaky smile. “And I have this man to thank for that. Come here, Mikey. Your turn for a hug. They’ve been few and far between since you were in grade school, but these arms are always open, anytime you need one.”

  Michael set down his carryon and braced himself, stiffening when her mother threw her arms around him. Awkwardly returning her hug, he cleared his throat before speaking. “Mama Mare, where’s Papa Bear? I need to talk to him.”

  Mama eyed the piece of luggage by Rose’s feet.

  “Crash’s computers,” Rose explained. “I told him we could put them in my room.”

  Her mother’s gaze shifted between the two of them, eyes narrowed slightly, as if she sensed the change in their relationship and was trying to define it. “Rose, honey, why don’t you take the back stairs and put that away? You can meet us in the lounge when you’re done.”

  Rose felt the hairs stand up on her arms. There was something that her mother wasn’t telling her. She looked at Michael, a silent question in her eyes.

  “Go on, princess. Take care of this thing—” he pointed to his carryon “—and look for me in the lounge. I need to find your dad. Ritchie, too. See if I can get him to bring in the cooler. We’ve got stuff that needs to go in the fridge, Mama Mare.”

  Her mother’s smile turned brittle. Rose said nothing. Michael had given her instructions. Her first duty was now to him.

  Rose did as he asked, taking the back stairs that were used mostly by the sweetbutts for sneaking into and out of rooms. She put his carryon out of sight in her closet and headed for the main stairs that led to the lounge.

  Some of the doors were closed with kerchiefs hanging on the knobs—the “do not disturb” sign commonly used by their club members. The closer she came to the lounge, the thicker the air was, rife with the smell of sex, liquor, and smoke—and not just tobacco. More than one member rolled their own joints. Seemed like there was always someone in need of a hit, and someone willing to share his weed.

  Rose reached the stairs that led from the bedrooms on the second floor to the lounge below. Holding onto the rail, she took one step at a time. The end of the bar slowly came into view. When she was past ceiling level, she started looking for Michael…only to be stopped short by her first full sight of the room.

  She saw bandages. Wounded men. At least one empty spot at the bar where Jack Daniels always sat, drinking the same. Uncle Jack—her mother’s brother and her father’s best friend—wasn’t here.

  Oh, God.

  She clutched at her stomach, feeling sick with worry and anxious to find Michael. She needed him. Needed his strength. Where the fuck was he?

  Rose scanned the room, searching for his dark Irish head. Suddenly, a body rammed into hers. A familiar pair of tattooed arms wrapped around her, pulling her into an enthusiastic embrace.

  Fucking Flynn.

  Rose wedged her arms against him and pried herself away. “What the fuck?” she asked him. He’d never touched her before now.

  He didn’t seem to take the hint. “I’m so sorry, princess. I never should have left you there alone. It’s all my fault you were taken. I went nuts, thinking the worst! Jesus Christ, I—”

  “Rose!” A familiar bark stopped Flynn mid-sentence. The moment she met Michael’s gaze, he gave the hand signal to kneel at his feet.

  Keeping her fo
cus only on him, she obeyed. Taking her place at his feet was a silent declaration of their relationship, Dominant and submissive.

  “What. The. Fuck?”

  Mad Dog. And her brother sounded royally pissed.

  Michael put his hand on her head and smoothed her hair. “Mare knows about us,” he told Luke, keeping his voice soft, but firm. “I had hoped to speak to Papa Bear first, but she didn’t know when he’d be home from the hospital.”

  Rose barely had a chance to stiffen before he explained. “He’s staying with your uncle. Jack took a bullet to the chest in the raid. He made it through surgery, but it’s still touch and go.”

  She was aware of the sudden quietude, as one by one, they drew the attention of club members, associates, prospects, old ladies, properties, and sweetbutts.

  “Mad Dog, let’s take this somewhere private, please. Rose needs to hear what went down. Everything,” he added meaningfully.

  Fuck. That did not sound good.

  “God dammit, Crash! Shit!”

  She felt the waves rolling off of her oldest brother and instinctively hugged Michael’s leg.

  “Fuck. All right. My room. Now. You’ll be getting the Reader’s Digest condensed version, ‘cause I don’t have time for any more shit than we’ve already got going on.”

  They followed him to his private room—one of the perks of being Vice President. Mad Dog had made up his bed tight enough to bounce a quarter off of it. A holdover from his days in the Marines.

  Some things never changed.

  Michael took a chair. Rose knelt by his feet. Too pent up to do anything as sedate as sitting down to talk, Mad Dog paced by his perfectly made bed, stopping at the end of each sentence and the beginning of the next.

  “Sorry. It’s been a helluva few days,” he grated. “And this—” he sliced a look between Michael and Rose “—is going to take some getting used to. I’m sure I’ll wrap my head around it. Eventually. But I’m gonna save my questions until after I’ve answered yours. Crash, you asked me to fill you and Rose in on what’s gone down. Well, here’s what’s happened.”