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Twisted Devil (Vicious Vipers MC Book 4)

Page 8

by Lynn Burke


  “Want a beer?” I asked, turning and leaving the door open for him.

  The door slammed shut before I reached the kitchen, and I bit back a chuckle as his boots stomped toward me.

  “I planned on swinging by the shop today to talk to you.”

  “The fuck you even asking her out for a ride without talking to me first?”

  I popped one cap and handed it to him, but he shook his head. Shrugging, I put the other away and took a long pull of the cold one I clutched a bit too tightly. He could squash me with his bare hands—but I’d learned a few defensive moves in the previous two weeks of karate class.

  “She’s going to be eighteen on Saturday, Ryker.”

  “So?”

  “You’re not her father.”

  “Fuck you, Devil. She’s under my protection, living in my goddamn house. Hell, I even hugged the girl last night—the only person other than Pia I can stand to touch.”

  My eyebrows shot up, and I lowered my beer. I knew he didn’t like to be touched, but fuck. “Seriously?”

  He glanced away, his throat working—and I found myself face to face with a man I’d never met in the dozen plus years I’d known him.

  “You’re right. I should have asked first,” I said, my voice quiet.

  Ryker turned his cold green eyes on my face.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He stared long enough I fought the need to shift on my feet, and stuck his hand out.

  I jerked my focus back up to his face.

  “You have my permission.”

  I considered being a cocky jerk and telling him I didn’t need his goddamn permission, but grasped his calloused hand instead—for the first time since I’d met him years earlier. “Thanks, Ryker.”

  His beard twitched as though he clenched his jaw, and I released my hold so he could wipe his palm down his jeans. “You fuck with her heart, and I’ll rip yours from your chest with my bare fucking hands.”

  I held up my hands, bottle neck of my beer in a lighter hold.

  “Saturday night,” he snipped, nodding. “You can pick her up at seven, but I expect her home by midnight.”

  Biting back a retort, I nodded. “You got it, daddy-o.”

  He spun and stomped back the hallway again.

  “What changed your mind?” I called after him.

  “Turns out I’ve got a soft as fuck heart for big blue eyes welling with tears!” he barked back without looking at me.

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  The door slammed shut behind him, and I chuckled while lifting my beer to my lips. The callous, cold bastard really had grown a heart.

  And little Jail Bait had begged—with tears—to spend the night on the back of my bike.

  Goddamn, I was so ready to fucking roll.

  ****

  My heart stuttered in my chest when Dasia came skipping out Ryker’s front door, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling with stars in them.

  Ryker and Pia stood behind her on the stoop as I climbed off my bike.

  Dasia pulled up abruptly in front of me, her smile dazzling—fucking owning me. Had her adoptive parents, of a sort, not stood behind her, I expect she would have thrown herself into my arms.

  I glanced at Ryker. He scowled. I nodded, taking the hint.

  “Where’re we going?” Dasia asked with that breathless tone that stirred my dick to life.

  “It’s a surprise.” I handed her my extra helmet and helped her clasp it beneath her chin, the long braid of her red hair laying over her chest giving me all kinds of kinky thoughts.

  Later.

  Grinning, I tapped her helmet. “Let’s ride.”

  “Enjoy your freedom!” Pia called from the porch, and Dasia climbed on behind me, her laughter fucking music to my ears.

  Her arms went around me, the heat of her front, the softness of her tits crushed against my back enough to make me hard—and groan.

  Patience, I told my dick and roared the engine to life.

  I shot up Route 1, heading north into New Hampshire. Dasia clung to me, and I’d never been happier in my goddamn life. Open road, whipping, mild wind, and a warm palm sneaking beneath my sweatshirt.

  The girl was going to drive me fucking insane. Temptation to bypass my plans to sip hot chocolate while sitting at Hampton Beach had me eyeing every motel we passed.

  I’d promised to take her out, though, and I wasn’t one to fail or go back on my word.

  I slowed and pulled into a parking spot along the ocean wall, glad to find the bulk of tourists had dwindled with the heat of summer giving way to cooler temps. At least my favorite shop still sat open.

  Dasia eyed me while I helped her with the helmet clasp, but rather than explain where I’d brought her, I entwined my fingers through hers and dragged her across the street.

  “They have the best hot chocolate,” I told her as we pulled up in front of the coffee shop’s to-go window.

  Five minutes later, we sat on a bench, watching the waves out in the distance. A salt-scented breeze blew in off the ocean, but not enough to chill us the fuck through—especially since we held steaming cups of rich hot chocolate.

  People trickled by on the walkway in front of us as we sat thigh to thigh.

  “So, what’s it feel like to be eighteen?”

  She laughed again, and the sheer joy emanating off her gave me a high unlike any I’d known.

  “You have no idea how free I feel right now. I’ve been counting down the days for years.” Her smile faded as a bigger wave crashed on shore and a gull swooped in to land at our feet, his beady eyes watching us in hopes we dropped a tasty morsel for him to snatch up.

  I kicked at the damn thing, and he took to flight again with a sharp cry as a guy in khakis strolled past, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched.

  “What are your plans now that you’ve got that freedom you’ve been longing for?” I asked.

  She shrugged and turned to face me, her smile gone, but eyes still happy. “Until I know I’m really free to move about how and when I please, I’m not making any.”

  “You mean the whole Ivan affair.”

  “Yeah.” She sipped, searching my face.

  “I’m almost there,” I told her with finality in my tone. “I promise I’m going to set you free.”

  Dasia turned away toward the ocean once more, but not before I caught the disappointment in her eyes. If she thought I planned on setting her free of me, she was in for one hell of a surprise.

  “I can’t call you Jail Bait anymore.”

  She huffed a light laugh without the joy from earlier. “I am legal now.”

  Thank fuck. “How about I call you my sweet little pussy cat instead?”

  She shot me a quick glance and raised eyebrow.

  “What part don’t you like?” I asked. “The pussy or my part?”

  Pink fused her cheeks. “You’re serious about being broken together, aren’t you?”

  “Dead fucking serious, Dasia. The first time I saw you at the gate, the pulling in my gut...” I had to swallow against a rush of emotion I couldn’t name. “Fucking beat to hell and shivering—bruised and yet a hint of fire in your eyes—you owned me. Couldn’t look away even though the sight of your battered body filled me with rage.”

  “You were so gentle,” she whispered.

  “I wanted to tear into the person who hurt you—still do.”

  The man in khaki’s strolled past in my periphery again, and I glanced up to find him jerking his focus off us to the cell in his hand. My nape tingled, and I kept my attention on him as he moved off a little ways and leaned against a light post.

  “Adrian?”

  “Do you recognize that guy?” I asked, motioning with my head, my stomach turning hard.

  She turned to look. “No.”

  Once her focus returned to my face, I forced my own off the guy even though I couldn’t rid myself of a feeling of wrongness. I scanned the area around us, noting his quickly glancing back down when I turned
his way once more.

  A muscle ticked in my jaw, but he moved off a few seconds later.

  My stomach refused to rest. “Come on,” I said, standing and reaching for her hand. We ambled back toward the bike, finishing off our drinks and tossing them into a can.

  On alert yet not wanting to worry Dasia, I forced myself to take my time while hooking her helmet. Unable to help myself, I laid a kiss on the tip of her nose.

  “Where are we heading now?” she asked, her smile returning.

  I considered the ride I had planned and going with my gut feeling, I changed my mind. “Time to go get your present,” I told her, and turned to climb on my bike, taking a quick scan of our surroundings while doing so.

  The bike roared to life, and Dasia climbed on, hugging my back in the best fucking way possible.

  Khaki prick wasn’t anywhere that I could see—but after getting on the highway once more and making a few turns, I expected he drove the dark sedan following us.

  I clasped over Dasia’s hand beneath my sweatshirt resting on my abs. “Gonna open it up. Hang on!”

  She let out a squeal of laughter as I shot forward, weaving onto Route 95 south. The wind whipped, the engine of my orange baby tearing it the fuck up.

  I considered my place rather than getting her back to the safety of Ryker’s, but wondered how much we’d been compromised. Taking her to the club might not be safe, either.

  We needed to disappear until I could straighten shit out.

  Losing the dark sedan in my side mirror took less than a mile even though the fucker had sped up trying to keep within sight of our asses. I took the next exit and headed west, my focus split between the road ahead and my rear view mirrors.

  Once sure no one followed, my stomach eased up a bit, and even though I knew I had a call to make, my body took interest in Dasia’s warm hands on my stomach, her pinkies shoved into my jeans’ waistband, and where we headed.

  And I’d thought her cheeks were pink earlier. She pulled off the helmet before I could help, her gaze flitting over the big brick building I’d parked behind. “I don’t suppose we’re here for dinner, are we?”

  “No.” I clasped her hand in mine, and she willingly strode by my side into the inn. I paid cash at the wood-paneled desk, only letting go of her hand when signing for the room.

  We headed up the stairs with their old fashioned wooden railing, the thick carpet hushing our footsteps even as we rounded the landing to the second floor. My heart thumped heavy in my chest, but more than from the thought of finally getting her naked in my arms.

  I let us into the room, locking and bolting the door behind me.

  “What’s this?” she asked, biting back a smile while turning toward me.

  Fighting to keep my concern to myself, I spread my arms wide. “Your present.”

  She narrowed her gaze but with a playfulness that twitched my dick. “You’re my present?”

  “I’m all the present you’ll ever need, pussy cat.”

  A snorted laugh escaped her. “Has anyone told you you’re arrogant as hell?”

  “Yep, as well I should be.”

  She set her hands on her hips and slowly slid her gaze down over me, hardening my dick fully. “I think you’ll do.” Her breathless tone clued me in to her nervousness even though she acted calm and sassy.

  I considered stalking toward her and showing her I would do just fucking fine, but I had a phone call to make first. Sitting in the closest chair, I eyed the bathroom, ready to drop a lie to get a moment’s privacy.

  She took a quick inhale as I shucked my first boot as though realizing I meant business—and what we were about to do.

  “I’ll be right out,” she squeaked, disappearing into the bathroom and locking the door before I could tell her I needed to head in there myself.

  Quick as fuck, I pulled out my cell and moved to the other end of the room, cuffing my mouth with my hand as Ryker answered.

  “Ryker—we had a tail,” I rushed to say. “Not sure who the fuck it is, and Dasia didn’t recognize him either.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At an inn in Exeter.”

  “She okay?”

  I glanced at the closed bathroom door. “I don’t think she even knows we were followed,” I whispered.

  “Good. You stay put. I’ll call Vigil. And Devil?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Take it easy on that girl, you hear me?”

  I grinned, my dick still on board. “I’m not going to do anything she doesn’t consent to.”

  “Better not, you sick fuck.”

  The sink’s water turned on, and I tossed my cell onto the bed stand, putting aside thoughts of what waited outside our room, the threat of unknown fuckers wanting to find her.

  Time to focus on making my pussy cat purr in pleasure.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dasia

  I stared at myself in the mirror as the rush of water flushed the toilet behind me.

  I’m eighteen now. Free, I told myself, trying to calm the mad swarm of butterflies in my stomach.

  I hadn’t really expected Adrian to bring me to a hotel, but I’d definitely hoped for something along those lines. His low tone sounded out in the room as I inhaled a steadying breath while ripping the tiny bar of soap open.

  Warm water rushed from the spigot as I washed my hands slowly, taking time to fight off my nervousness.

  I’d made a shit ton of bad decisions in the past couple of months that landed me in trouble, but something inside me knew Adrian—Devil—wasn’t a bad choice. He’d kept his dick in his pants while wanting to get into mine, waited for me to be of legal age. A horny asshole would have taken me willingly that night we sat outside on Ryker’s back patio because God knew I’d been more than willing.

  He hadn’t, and because of it, I trusted him.

  I huffed a snort while drying my hands on a fluffy white towel that smelled heavily of bleach.

  Ryker trusted him, otherwise he never would have allowed me to head off on his Harley. I trusted Pia. Pia trusted Ryker who trusted Devil. Yet another reason I knew he wasn’t a bad choice.

  But could I give up control and submit fully to what he wanted?

  Getting involved meant a possible break up, and I considered fucking him just to get a taste of what my body craved, but driving him away to protect my heart afterward wasn’t what I truly wanted.

  I wouldn’t hook up with him just to keep from being lonely, though. With him, I didn’t feel lost or alone. He and I connected in ways I never had with anyone, not even my best friend Stacey. Like me, he didn’t trust easily, and also like me, he wanted to be in control to keep from being hurt again.

  That is what drew me to him. That is why I wanted to know him better. That was why I wanted him.

  I want this.

  He’d shown me vulnerability, trust when I hadn’t yet earned it, and I was ready to give him mine.

  One last exhale, and I grasped the bathroom door handle, my heart in my throat.

  Adrian sprawled on the chair, legs spread, his palms resting on the ends of the arm rests. He ensnared me with those bedroom eyes, and my body came alive as he slid his gaze down over me while I stood like a deer in the headlights in the bathroom doorway.

  “Come here.” That raspy, low timbre slid down over my body like a caress, and I moved on auto pilot, his voice commanding my brain waves. My nipples pebbled tight, and wetness from his intense gaze alone soaked clear through my panties.

  “Stop,” he whispered when I stood less than two feet from his knees.

  My feet halted.

  “Would you strip for me?”

  I let out an audible gulp, but far from one of fear. Stripping had been a bad choice, but hell if I wanted to say no to Adrian. Letting out a slow, steady exhale through my nose, I turned and bent at the waist, all but shoving my ass in his face.

  “Goddamn,” he groaned, and I bit back my smirk while my shaking fingers unzipped my boots.

&nb
sp; Once unzipped, I bent my knees and slowly slid back to a stand, gyrating my hips enough to pull another groan from him. I slid my feet free and turned, hands on my jean’s button while moving as though music slammed into my ears rather than our heavy breaths.

  Adrian’s focus zoned in on my fingers as I unsnapped and unzipped my jeans. Another turn and side-to-side shimmying of my hips lowered the jeans to my knees, and low curses escaped him as I slid them to the floor, my satin-covered ass once more in his face.

  My hands still shook, but I managed to rid myself of my socks without breaking from the seductive movements. A glance over my shoulder once standing showed him drooling over the ass I’d always thought too big, too juicy. He looked like he wanted to take a big bite, and the thought of his mouth on me sent another rush of arousal to my panties.

  I gathered up my sweatshirt and long-sleeve t-shirt in my hands, and pulled them off overhead, baring my back. They swished to the floor, and I continued to move my hips while reaching behind me to unsnap my bra.

  My breasts ached, and I caught their weight as the bra sagged—slowly turning to slip one arm free, then the other.

  “Let me see your tits, pussy cat,” he rasped, his tone stroking over me like a flame, his white-knuckled grip on the arm rests revealing his restraint. His control.

  I dropped my bra and held my breasts, squeezing my thighs together while continuing to dance.

  Rather than close my eyes and getting lost in the music like I’d done at the strip club, I kept my focus on him while feeling myself up—taking my arousal to another level.

  “Fuck, Dasia.” He swallowed, his focus sliding down to my soaked panties. “Take them off and get on the bed.”

  I turned and sashayed away, giving an extra sway to my hips and paused at the bed’s foot to shimmy the soaked panties off my body. Another groan from him, and I climbed atop the bed he’d turned down, keeping my ass in the air while glancing over my shoulder.

  He stood and stalked forward like an animal after prey, but I was a willing victim. I wanted to be pounced upon. Devoured. All trace of aversion had disappeared over the past couple of days—when, I didn’t know for sure, but relief over that war having been won set me free to enjoy my birthday gift.

 

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