by Faye Byrd
“Oh?” I lift a challenging brow. “Has the little girl changed her mind about the sale?”
“What?” She tenses, pivoting to face me. “The auction’s been canceled, remember?”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t come to some type of agreement,” I say, moving over to perch on the edge of my bed. “You’re a woman. I’m a man.” I shrug and kick off my boots before yanking my T-shirt up and over my head. The cool air causes my barbells to stand at attention as I toss the tee across the room. “Sure, there’s a ten-year age gap, but I promise it’ll be beneficial for you.” I stand, tilting my head toward the bathroom as my fingers land on my fly. “Now go get cleaned up.”
Her eyes are glazed over as she looks first at my fingers and then trails them upward, over my chest, pausing at the chrome, before finally settling on mine. “You couldn’t fucking afford it.”
“Try me.” I unclasp the button and lower the zipper, my jeans settling extremely low on my waist. “Name your fucking price.”
The shift in my mind has changed the entire vibe between us. Tension pulsates in the space and in turn creates a sticky-sweet anticipation. It settles on my tongue as I fantasize about the taste of her untouched pussy. It burrows into my groin and thickens my cock, causing it to throb with want.
She lifts her chin, the smeared black on her cheeks making her look childish. “Ten thousand dollars.”
“Why?” I ask, approaching her. “What could a young woman such as yourself need with ten grand?” I circle behind her, taking in every asset with new, more appreciative eyes.
“None of your fucking business,” she growls, crossing her arms to hide her chest from my prying gaze.
I lean close, my lips millimeters from her ear. “Tell me why, and you can consider it done.”
Her eyes snap to mine, questioning. “You’re serious?”
“As a fucking heart attack.”
“The nursing program at the Crescent Community College,” she states, holding her chin high. “My dad is an asshole who never saved a dime for my future, and I want this so bad. I need to be able to take care of myself, and for two years, I’ve been begging Jack to help me get the cash.” She spares me a harsh glare. “And when he finally agreed, you fucking ruined it.”
“Then let me fix it for you.” I fist her hair, yanking her head back so I can access her neck. Very slowly, I run my tongue across her exposed collar bone and up past her thundering pulse, leaving a trail of goosebumps all the way to her ear. “Get cleaned up. I prefer the women I fuck without black streaks trailing down their cheeks.”
I release her and return to my bed, pausing to shove my jeans to the floor. I look up and smirk at the click of the bathroom door. Naked and aching, I position myself against the leather headboard, my eyes trained on the door. Water runs on the other side, and I grip my cock, stroking it slowly.
I expect the wait to be long, but it isn’t. Within minutes, the door clicks again, opening to reveal a fresh-faced woman with determination burning in her dark blue eyes. Even when she realizes I’m stark naked and waiting for her to join me, she doesn’t falter.
Holding her head high, she stands just beyond the foot of my bed. “If you’re lying to me, I’ll slit your fucking throat.”
“A Dirty Lion always keeps his word.” I grip my cock tighter, her threat turning me on even more. “Once we’re done here, I’ll open that safe, pay you, and drop you wherever you want.” I eye a painting on the wall before bringing my free hand up and making an x on my chest. “Cross my heart.”
Her jaw clenches, but she nods.
I smirk, the anticipation almost fucking killing me. “Strip.”
Her dark eyes don’t relent. They stay on mine as she grips the hem of her tank and lifts it over her head. They bore into me as she pushes her skirt past her hips and stands in nothing but navy blue lace. They sear me with intensity as she releases the clip and her ample breasts fall free. They dare me as she kicks loose her thong from her bare foot. She’s naked and divine, a woman in every way, and I can’t wait to be inside her, yet I realize virgins require a delicate touch.
I lift my hand and crook a lone finger, beckoning her toward me. “Don’t be shy. I’ll make this good for you.”
She approaches the foot of the bed, propping one knee on the mattress. “I’m not interested in good, only cash.” She adds another knee and crawls toward me on all fours like the tiger I know her to be.
One minute, she’s advancing and the next, she’s on her back with me hovering above her. I flatten my tongue and run it along her jaw. “That’s not how this works.”
“Just fuck me and get it over with,” she spits, closing her eyes.
I chuckle, a sinister quality seeping into my tone as I accept her challenge. Virgins aren’t immune to pleasure, and I intend to melt this ice queen act before we even get to the main event. Her fire burns too hot to remain detached beneath my skillful assault.
My lips descend, beginning on her neck and moving across her collar bone. I nip and lick my way down to her breasts. Taking a nipple between my teeth, I clamp down just shy of being painful, and she arches into my mouth. I use my fingers to tweak and pinch the other nipple.
Once I’m satisfied with her pliancy, I move lower, scraping my teeth against her stomach as I go. She’s no longer still, and her eyes aren’t closed. They’re on me, watching, burning, turning me on so fucking much. My cock is throbbing, and my mouth is watering.
Spreading her wide, I flatten my tongue and take one long lick through her slit, and her thighs try to close on my head. I look up her body, smirking as I brace her legs farther apart.
“Don’t fight it, babe,” I rasp, licking my lips. “I need you soaking wet before I pound this pussy.”
She rolls her eyes, her head falling back to the mattress. I snicker to myself as I lean forward again. All humor dies as soon her taste lands on my tongue, and I become ravenous, licking and sucking and finger-fucking her until her fists are tightly clenched in my hair and she’s mad with want. Her hips are thrusting to meet my fingers and tongue, and the little purrs she’s emitting are making my cock weep. I lick and suck and thrust until she’s spasming beneath me, and then I lap every drop of her sweet nectar as she clings to me for dear life.
Before she has time to consider what just happened, I sit back on my haunches. Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, I roll it down my cock while she watches with breathless fascination. I lick my way up her naked stomach and chest before taking myself in hand. With one solid thrust, I’ve buried myself deep inside and claimed my ten-thousand-dollar prize.
She tenses, her entire body going rigid, but I place my lips to her ear and murmur soothing words as I start to thrust my hips back and forth, in and out. She relaxes, her hips matching my pace as I grab her hands and pin them above her head. Her stare is different now, softer, welcoming even as she once again soars toward her peak. Sweat beads on my brow as I crave giving pleasure to a girl whose name I didn’t even bother to get before I decided to take something she can never again give.
Her back arches and her eyes fall closed, severing the connection between us. She’s fucking gorgeous as she floats through the clouds, climbing higher and higher, before crashing back to earth and tumbling inside wave after wave of pure bliss.
Unable to hold back any longer, I release with a growl and immediately pull away to sit back on my knees, my breathing labored. Her eyes pop open at the sudden loss, but I wave it off and climb from the bed to dispose of the condom.
My shaky legs take me to the bathroom where I retrieve a wet cloth for her to use while I get dressed. After pulling on my boots, I gather her clothes and toss them to her.
“Get dressed,” I say, moving toward the safe.
She snatches them up and starts dressing quickly. “Way to make a girl feel special.”
I pause, cutting my eyes her way. “You got two fucking orgasms, and I’m the one paying ten grand. Don’t talk to me about feeling special.”
“Whatever.” She stands, crossing her arms. “Just get my money and take me home.”
“Done.” I turn, a ten-thousand-dollar stack in hand. “Let’s ride.”
I lead her back through the clubhouse and out to my 2010 Dyna Wide Glide that’s all black and chrome, with lime green flames that lick over the gas tank and form a ghost skull near the lid.
“Nice.” She smirks, nodding to the bike. “This is prettier than most I’ve seen.”
“Thanks.” I reach over and gather her hair, transferring a rubber band from my wrist onto her ponytail. “We can’t have this mess slapping us in the face.”
“Look who’s talking,” she says, flicking the ends of my golden shoulder-length waves. “Do you have a scrunchie for it too?”
“I don’t do fucking scrunchies.” I chuckle, gathering my own hair and doing the same. Smirking, I lift my leg up and over before settling on the seat. “Hop on.”
“Hey, where’d you pick up this Fender Fluff?” Mad Dog asks, pausing on his way into the clubhouse. “I’ve been too busy since we landed in town to check out the local bunnies.”
“Fuck off, fatso,” the girl says, flipping him a bird. “I’m no one’s fluff or bunny or local piece or whatever the hell else you’re suggesting.”
A bark of laughter bursts through my lips, and I kick my bike to life, drowning out his response. Tonight’s been one hell of a night and ending it with this chick’s arms tightening around my waist seems like the perfect way to finish it off. With a loud grumble as I hit the throttle, we take off out the gate, giving Jameson the thumbs up to pull it closed behind us.
Instead of worrying about where she lives, I first find an open highway and ride a moonlight mile. She doesn’t seem to mind, and the wind feels good against my sweaty skin on this cool summer night. But all too soon, the time to return her to her law-abiding world draws near, and I motion for her to guide me to her place.
The closer we get, the more familiar the area is, and when she points to a house, every cell within me sets ablaze. I pull to the curb and drop the kickstand. “This is where you fucking live?”
“Yep.” She hops off the bike and looks between me and the house. “You got a fucking problem with it?”
I grip her nape and pull her close, eye to fucking eye. “You’re telling me that this is the dipshit father who made you sell yourself to pay for school?” It’s all I can do to keep from riding to the sheriff’s department and blowing his motherfucking brains out.
“He is.” She licks her lips, drawing my eyes to the movement. “And you’re the dipshit who paid for what was up for sale.”
“Fuck,” I curse, releasing her and getting off the bike to pace. “Why the fuck didn’t you say something before?” I’m tugging on my ponytail, my stomach in knots. How could I have added to her already shitty life? I kick the curb, cursing again.
“How was I supposed to know you had Daddy issues?” She shrugs, not in the least impressed with my meltdown. “I figured you two were in bed together. He hates the Wolves.”
“Jesus Christ.” I tug my hair even harder. “We are,” I say, feeling sick to my fucking stomach. “Look, uh …” I still don’t know her name.
She smirks, crossing her arms. “Now you wanna know?”
I stick out my hand. “I’m Enzo Stone: President of the Dirty Lions, Crescent City Charter.”
“Fine.” She takes it. “Miranda Dawson: Virginity Seller Extraordinaire.”
“Please don’t,” I say, another pang of guilt stabbing me. “If I’d have known …”
“Fuck that,” she snaps, standing to her full height. “It was amazing. You were fucking amazing, and I’ll never regret it.”
“Really?” I ask, a skeptical smile forming.
“Really.” She pulls the rubber band from her hair and shakes out the long, shiny locks. “You never know when an unexpected expense might occur. I’d love to have someone who knows their way around a woman’s body on stand-by.” She looks at me from beneath her lashes. “Though I can no longer offer you V status.”
I consider her proposal, picturing the stacks of cash sitting in my safe and comparing them against the way she looked as she came on my cock. I also consider who her father is and how much I despise that motherfucker. Then I picture another man, one with an abstract face but who’s the President of my rival club. I ruminate on how they’re on a first-name basis, yet he was willing to sell her to some old, perverted fuck. The men in her life are shit, and while I’m not much better, I can make sure her dreams are fulfilled to the extent that she won’t need any of us for much longer.
Knowing what I’m about to do is as selfish as it is helpful, I step into her personal space. “On one condition,” I rasp, the thought of having her again more of a turn-on than I first realized. “You offer to no one but me.”
“Pfft.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re kidding me, right?”
I grip her nape and bring her lips to mine. The kiss is powerful and possessive and meant to express everything I want her to understand in one fell swoop.
While you fuck me, you’re mine, even if I’m paying for the pleasure. I’ll make it worth your while, babe. I fucking promise. I’ll protect you from the vultures and release you to spread your wings when the time comes. You’re making the right choice with me.
“Shit,” she mutters when I pull away, both of us a little breathless. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”
“I try not to make it a habit with one-night stands.” I shrug, a little unsettled by the depth of the kiss and how lightheaded I feel.
“Good thing I’m no longer a one-night stand, then, huh?” She smirks as she sticks out her hand. “I’d say we have a deal.”
A quake of unease moves through me, but I take her hand anyway, the offering too good to pass up. “Deal.”
CHAPTER THREE
Sleeping with the Enemy
Miranda
“Here ya go, hun,” Amy says as she places a steaming cup of black coffee in front of me. “Can I get ya something to eat?”
I take a long draw, feeling instantly energized. “Sure. I’ll take two eggs, over easy, and a piece of toast.”
“No sausage or bacon?” she asks, pencil poised on her pad.
“Not today,” I reply, smiling. “It’s my first day of class, and I don’t want to overdo it.”
“All right, sugar.”
She turns to call out my ticket to old Mr. Pope before sashaying down the bar to the only other person in the diner. I recognize him, but only barely, though it wouldn’t be hard to guess with the Harley parked outside and the leather vest announcing his affiliation. He’s blond with long, thin hair and the strangest mustache I’ve ever seen. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s late-thirties to early-forties and has a wiry but taut build.
My waitress, Amy, is in her forties, and she looks it. Wrinkles line her forehead and gray streaks her once raven hair. Long hours and tiring work make for a worn woman, but she’s as sweet as the apple pie she serves, and that Lion would be lucky if she let him into her and Jesse’s life. And judging by the sound of her giggles, it’s a definite possibility.
“Order up,” old man Pope calls.
She snaps into action, grabbing my plate and sliding it across the bar. “Can I get ya anything else?”
“I’m good, Amy. Thanks.”
I hurry through my breakfast, eavesdropping on the goings-on down the bar as I do so. What? I’m curious. Besides, since I’ll be fucking Enzo again at some point, it helps to know the type of guys who’ll be hanging around on my visits to the clubhouse.
I’m not accustomed to such an old crowd.
When I’m done, I toss a ten on the bar. “See ya later.” Amy barely spares me a wave as she’s deep in her flirting game.
My lip curls into a sneer as I walk into the parking lot and notice my father’s cruiser parked in the far spot, a bottle turned up to his lips. I march his way, my fists clenched at my side. Halfway across the lot,
the loud rumble of a group of motorcycles causes me pause, and I turn toward the noise. Jackson and three of his guys ride past, eyeing arrow-mustache guy’s bike. If it wasn’t for my father’s presence, there’d probably be trouble. Those two despise each other, and my father happens to be the one with the power in this neck of the woods.
For once, maybe I am glad to see him.
My clenched fists relax as I stop outside the driver’s door, crossing my arms as he rolls down the window. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a man see his daughter off on her first day of school?” he asks, already slurring at seven-thirty in the morning. “I’m proud of my girl.” The last part of girl comes out disoriented as he hiccups the end of his sentence.
“He could if he gave a shit about said daughter,” I snarl, my fists opening and closing beneath my arms. “Look, Rodney, I don’t know why you chose today to act like you give a fuck, but don’t bother. I made sure to pick up where you were slacking.”
“You never did say where you got the cash.” He’s suddenly serious, his bloodshot eyes glaring my way.
“I didn’t,” I concur, not offering anything further.
“Randi.” My name is a plea from his lips, but I don’t soften. That may have worked when I was ten and he wasn’t a drunk, but those years are long past. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”
Guilt gnaws in my gut. “It wasn’t from Jack, but that’s all you’re getting.”
“Good.” He takes another swig from his bottle. “I can live with that.” He points a bony finger my way. “You need to stay away from him. There’s trouble brewing.”
I want to scream that he doesn’t get to tell me what to do, but even without being told, I know. The Lions are here for a reason, and I’d bet a million fucking dollars it has to do with the Wolves. So, I stay quiet, choosing instead to give a reluctant nod.
“Fine,” I mutter petulantly.
He looks me up and down, checking for the lie, but I guess he deems me truthful because he shifts the cruiser into reverse and jumps over the nearest curb as he backs out of his space. Not even bothering to check, he guns it out of the lot, swerving and squealing tires as he goes. He’s going to kill someone one day—and maybe himself.
