Maverick: A Dark MC Romance (A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Series Book 6)

by Serena Akeroyd

My heart was pounding for a different reason this time. Honest exertion and excitement.

  God, that had felt good.

  And as we hauled our asses into the car, and she took off, we contained our glee until we made it out of the subdivision, but just before we could celebrate, we saw them.

  Lined up in a row.

  Five of them, their faces revealed in the headlamps.

  Maverick riding behind Link, Nyx, Cruz, and Sin, all of them waiting on us.

  “Stop the car, Indy,” Giulia ordered, but she didn’t sound nervous. If anything, she sounded excited.

  Frowning, wondering what she was about, I watched as Indy pulled up, and Giulia was out like a rocket. When the door opened, like he knew, Nyx climbed off his bike, and seconds later, she hurled herself at him, her legs coming around his waist, her arms wrapping around him.

  When they started to eat each other’s faces off, I had to smile, and the adrenaline that was still pumping through me from before, churning through my veins, setting me alight from the inside out…morphed.

  Twisted.

  Formed something else. Something less destructive and something infinitely more powerful.

  Lust.

  Need.

  Desire.

  We hadn’t slayed our foe, but we’d threatened him and punished him, and now, like marauding knights who could kill their own dragons, we were ready for our rewards…

  An orgasm.

  Or two.

  Or maybe even three…

  Thirty-Eight

  Maverick

  There were four contrasting emotions rippling through me.

  Rage. That she could put herself in danger, that she could be stupid enough to commit a crime when her immigration status wasn’t cemented into stone yet.

  Concern. That she’d get hurt. Or get caught.

  Pride. That she wasn’t scared to defend one of our own. That she’d go to bat for my brother’s daughter. That she’d do what needed to be done to make sure that little girl was safe.

  And lastly, need.

  The complicated cocktail made it hard for me to do anything other than stay quiet on the trip home.

  Rex, made aware of the situation, had postponed church until tomorrow morning, where we’d been ordered to get our Old Ladies in line because the clubwhores had been whining about some broken noses and black eyes. Rex had apparently used that as an excuse to hide the real truth of why he was delaying church from Storm.

  We were protecting the one man who needed to know, but there was a reason for that. We didn’t want him to end up in jail, and that was where he’d be going. Without passing fucking go and without collecting two hundred dollars.

  That was his right as well. To defend his daughter, to protect her and guard her from a pedophilic cunt, but there were two issues.

  One, we didn’t have confirmation yet that London was a pedophile. But we would, shortly, because I’d be heading down that rabbit hole in the AM as well. The second it was sanctioned, London’s blood would be painting the Fridge’s walls.

  And two, because if we got him involved before the bastard was trussed up in the Fridge, he’d do something insane in public. Something we couldn’t cover up.

  Impotent with rage, need, pride, and concern, I seethed on the ride back to the house in Indy’s Camaro. Alessa drove while Indy rode bitch with Cruz, after she’d extruded the promise that Alessa would take it to her place in the AM. It meant that we had privacy, but that privacy wasn’t doing much for my mood.

  The streetlamps dimmed as we reached a kind of crossroad that would either take us deeper into town or would let us head into the Orange Hills subdivision where Lily’s property was located. I fully expected her to drive onto the estate, but she didn’t. She pulled off to the side of the road, driving over bumpy terrain for a minute or so until we were sheltered from the minimal traffic that was passing by at this time of the night.

  The second she cut the engine, the silence throbbed through the cab, and then she was on me.

  I didn’t expect it, couldn’t have expected it. In all honesty, I’d thought she’d be scared about my being angry with her. Never in a million years did I think she’d be fucking horny.

  But she was.

  Sweet fuck, she was.

  She threw herself against me, plastering each of her luscious inches against me. Her hand worked between us to cover my dick with her palm while her other shoved the dainty skirt of her dress up high so she could tunnel beneath her leggings.

  When her fingers found gold, she sighed into my mouth, but just for a fraction of a second. Then she was back to thrusting her tongue against mine, fucking me with a ferocity that spoke of an adrenaline high that I was happy to let fizzle out on me.

  With my emotions coalescing the way they were, this was the release I needed, but fuck, it was more than that. This was Alessa. And Christ, I needed her as much as I wanted her.

  Hands snapping out so I could drag her leggings down, I groaned when I pulled back to see the shadowy motions of her touching her pussy, her fingers slick enough that they made a sound with every caress she gifted herself. I wished I could see that, wished we weren’t in the pitch dark of the small copse of off-road trees, but somehow, that pitch black made this all the hotter.

  Seeing was hard, but we could hear, we could feel, we could smell, and we could taste. Those four senses suddenly seemed a hell of a lot more powerful than sight.

  I wanted that taste on my fucking tongue, and I wasn’t about to be denied it.

  The Camaro’s front seat was too goddamn small, so I pushed open the door and slid out. She squawked at me, but not for long, not when I hauled her out of the car and dragged her to the trunk. At first, I leaned her against it, letting her stand there as I slipped my hands around her bare ass, pulling the cheeks apart with one while I threaded the other between her thighs so I could nudge her slick folds.

  The heat of her had me hissing as I explored her mouth, loving that she let me even as she didn’t stay passive. She was in this fight as much as I was.

  The thought had me pulling back and lifting her so I could wedge her on the small fin on the trunk. As I spread her legs to step between them, I snarled, “You put yourself in danger.”

  “I’m a Sinner,” she snarled back. “It’s what we do.”

  More of that damnable pride filled me.

  “You leave it to the men. That’s what we’re for.”

  “Some crimes deserve different punishments.” She tipped her chin up. “This is bitches’ business.”

  “Fucking Giulia.” This had her scent all over it. “It ain’t bitches’ business, it’s club business. You shouldn’t be getting involved in this.” I reached up and cupped her throat, forcing her to look at me. “What the fuck would I do if you got deported, huh? Deported and jailed for crimes that we have our own ways of solving.”

  Her eyes glinted with defiance, and even though it worried me, it also turned me the fuck on.

  Alessa, I was coming to realize, was nothing like Ghost.

  Ghost was the woman I’d fallen for, but she was a shadow in comparison to Alessa who was more like a full-bodied glass of red. She came with the bitter tang of tannins, and a headache the morning after, but she slipped down your fucking throat like manna from the gods.

  Growling under my breath, I pulled her forward so I could kiss her into compliance.

  It didn’t work.

  She fought back. More than before. Harder than earlier. She took everything I had to give and then some, not even faltering when I began to rub her clit then finger fucked her. When she cried out, her cunt pulsing and throbbing around my digits, I didn’t stop, just carried on, using orgasms to force her to realize what she was to me.

  Mine.

  To protect.

  To defend.

  To love.

  As I curled my fingers up against the front wall of her cunt, I pulled back so that our lips hovered above the other’s. “You put yourself in fucking danger aga
in, Alessa, I’m gonna make you regret it.”

  She snapped out, her teeth grabbing my bottom lip. She bit down hard enough to fucking hurt, then pulled back too, taking my lip with her before she let it go. “What are you going to do?” she growled. “Rape me? Slap me? Whip me? Cut me? As if you would.”

  The words were a dare and a sneer all in one. It spoke of her trust in me, her faith, even as it made me want to go out and kill the fuckers who’d owned her.

  Christ, I’d been so busy today that I hadn’t even gotten started on that list.

  Fuck.

  With my lip stinging, I swiped my tongue across it, only to come across the taste of blood.

  The metallic flavor filled my mouth for a second until I whispered, “I’ll lock you in our bedroom, keep you in our bed, I’ll stuff you so full of my fucking cum that it fucking weighs you down and you can’t move. I’ll keep you so cock-drunk and orgasm happy that you won’t know shit about the outside world. I’ll fuck you so often and so hard that it’ll be hard for both of us to walk, and the only time we do will be to get food so I can fill your stomach to keep you strong enough for the next round.”

  Her nostrils flared at that, and she dared to state, “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

  “It’s not a fucking threat,” I snarled, “it’s a promise.”

  Her lips flattened, but not in irritation.

  In goddamn need.

  Want.

  Fuck.

  My toes curled in my boots, and I was left with no option other than the sanest, safest one.

  I dropped to my knees, grabbed her thighs so I could pull them apart, and hauled her closer to me. Keeping her mouth busy as she screamed through an orgasm was the only way we’d make it back to the poolhouse tonight, because if she pushed me anymore, we’d turn into Tarzan and fucking Jane as I showed her I meant every word—whether the bed was under a roof or the night sky didn’t matter a damn to me.

  Only she did.

  Her safety.

  Her wellbeing.

  That was all that mattered.

  Thirty-Nine

  Alessa

  The second his tongue collided with my clit, I felt sure I’d go mad.

  Having never experienced this before, I wasn’t sure if it was irritating or delicious. It didn’t pack the same punch as his fingers, couldn’t rub my clit as hard as I needed it, but there was a delicacy about it that caught my breath. And the sounds he made? Pizda rula. They added to the deliciousness of what he was doing. He munched on me. He slurped me down, tasted me, groaned as he did so. His lips suctioned down around my clit until I was howling, but it was different than the other orgasms he’d gifted me, because it was strong yet also had my toes curling because it had me feeling empty and ready for more.

  This was, I realized, an appetizer.

  To what he’d promised?

  When he’d spoken of punishments, a red mist of annoyance had whispered over me. I’d been punished enough for a lifetime, but his idea was nothing like I’d thought.

  His castigation would keep us locked together for hours at a time, and he believed that would be a bad thing? I could think of nothing better.

  With my howl echoing around the clearing, ringing in my ears until I felt sure it would deafen me, he finally surged to his feet, unzipping his fly as he moved, and suddenly, he was there. Against me. Between my legs. So close to me I could taste his breath.

  When his dick surged into me, I screamed again, my head falling back, my body both tense and straining as his mouth worked its way to my throat. As he sucked down hard on me there, I groaned, my hands moving around to his shoulders, digging into his muscles, holding him close with both my arms and my legs.

  As he powered into me, hard and fast thrusts that weren’t as gentle as he’d been before, I gloried at his loss of control, something that was founded in his need to protect me.

  My pussy clenched at the thought as arousal whirled around me until I felt sure I’d go insane with it. He started to speed up, faster, deeper, he rocked into me, making the vintage car shudder beneath us until finally, he roared out his own release in my ear as I screamed one final time. My entire being pulsing as one big ball of pleasure struck me down like I was ten pins on a bowling lane.

  “Tomorrow,” he rasped in my ear, having finally let go of his hold on my throat, “when we go to Indy’s…”

  My breathing was just as fast, just as thick as his. My heart was pounding like I’d been running, and the sensation of his hot exhalations against my tender flesh made it feel even more sensitized.

  “To Indy’s?” I asked dazedly.

  “To drop off her car,” he muttered, and I nodded, limply letting my head come to rest against his as my entire body danced with glee at just how wonderful I felt. “We get branded.”

  “With hot irons?” I questioned, surprised when he tensed up and pulled away from me.

  “No!” he shrieked. “Not with hot fucking irons.” Even in the dark, I felt him change. His anger transformed into something that gave it wings. “Have you been branded that way?”

  Because I was tired, I leaned back so I could rest on the window and I lifted my arm to show him. “Move the cuff,” I ordered on a yawn. When he did as bid, his fingers traced over the skin the bracelet had covered.

  “Jesus fuck,” he whispered. “How did I never see that before?”

  “Stone gave me a leather cuff to hide it.” I yawned again. “Don’t worry about it. It’s in the past.”

  “Sure it is,” he rumbled soothingly, moving my wrist so he could press his lips to it. “You’re mine now. I want the whole fucking world to know it too.”

  Because I liked the sound of that, I smiled before flopping forward against him and drifting off to sleep.

  Forty

  Maverick

  It was almost pathetic how chirpy we were the next day, making it quite clear for any of the brothers in the vicinity to notice that we’d gotten some.

  A lot of ‘some.’

  From the scowl on his face, I had to assume Rex was the only one whose morning wood hadn’t been solved, and as he was staying at Rachel’s place, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

  Sure, he could head to the motel where the clubwhores were staying, but A, they’d probably squawk his ear off about Giulia’s Posse’s ‘visit’ yesterday, and B, why would he want to fuck those skanks when the woman he really wanted slept down the hall?

  So his grouchiness made total sense, and it amused me that not a one of us, not even Link who was the unofficial joker of the bunch, said a word about it.

  We didn’t have death wishes.

  Settling around Rachel’s mahogany dining room table was a lot grander than his office back at the clubhouse and I told him as much. “Looks like we’ve come up in the world.”

  He stared around the room, which was definitely classy with its terrace doors that overlooked a pool, and which let in a lot of light so the red in the table gleamed like fire, and the greenery from all the plants she had in here made it look all the more savage. I didn’t know she had a green thumb, but this room alone made me wonder if she had some kind of weird addiction to plants because they lined every wall, in myriad sizes with different, not matching, pots.

  It took the formality down a notch, while still making it feel grand because I recognized one of those orchids by the window from an article I’d read online, and knew they were rare as hell.

  “I’d give my left nut to be in my old office,” was Rex’s grim reply.

  As a creature of habit, that didn’t surprise me. Plus, as shitty as it had been, there were a lot of memories in that dump. Good and bad. Devastating and amazing.

  “Well, don’t give up hope on Rachel just yet,” Link dared to tease. “You might still need that nut.”

  Rex shot him a glare. “Fuck off, Link.”

  “Gladly,” was his immediate retort. “None of this sits well with me. Why the fuck are we here and Storm isn’t? He needs to know
what happened last night and why.”

  I didn’t necessarily disagree, but neither did I fully agree.

  It was too complicated to be black and white.

  If Storm knew about Martin London, then he’d kill him.

  Deservedly so, but he’d act in rage and would repent in a prison cell.

  If we took care of shit, then he’d still be around to sort out his kid in the aftermath of what had gone down.

  Complicated, see?

  Because of the night’s events, church was one short. Technically, Storm didn’t have to attend because he wasn’t this chapter’s VP anymore, but he was our kin. We weren’t gonna leave him out totally, we were just going to delay him so we could discuss this shit.

  Nyx rocked back on the antique dining chair that creaked under his weight. “We don’t want him in a jail cell,” he replied. “And I made a promise to Indy that I wouldn’t pull those moves anymore.”

  Sin shook his head. “I don’t get it. Why would she make you promise that?”

  Nyx’s mouth tightened. “Kevin got to her too.”

  Steel’s nostrils flared and horror set his eyes alight. “You’re fucking with me?” he demanded, his tone guttural.

  “Wish I fucking was, brother, but I ain’t.” He gritted his teeth. “Quin, when I visited him, said that he didn’t get to him, but Christ, just the thought of that cunt with Indy makes me want to—” He released a short, sharp breath, and the tension in him betrayed itself in the bright red flush to his throat, the way the sinews popped out, and the vein that pulsed in his forehead.

  I’d never noticed that one before, so it had to be new.

  One thing was for sure, if we were going to keep him from breaking his promise to his sister, we’d need to figure out a way to keep him on the straight and narrow. Anger management was definitely in the cards because, otherwise, he’d have a fucking stroke.

  “Christ,” Sin whispered, which pretty much said it all.

  Rex’s shoulders hunched as he shoved back his chair, then leaned forward, elbows to his knees as he stared at the floor. “I get the promise you made, Nyx, especially after she told you that she wanted you to prioritize your kid, but this ain’t healthy for you, brother.”