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A Dirty Lion

Page 3

by Faye Byrd


  I sigh as I walk back to the piece-of-shit truck Rodney bought when I turned seventeen. He used the last bit of money from my mother’s insurance, and that was only because Jack had started driving me everywhere. The cash was meant to send me to college, but Rodney drank most of it away, and all I got was this lousy backfiring death trap.

  My mood has faltered by the time I make it to Triple C, Crescent Community College, so when Layla Montgomery, my BFF, accosts me as soon as I climb from the beast, I’m less inclined to entertain her petty insecurities. Don’t get me wrong. She’s my best friend, but she’s not the brightest crayon in the box.

  “Do you think this ponytail is okay?” she asks, swinging her head around so I can take a look.

  I roll my eyes. “I think it’s the first day of class. It’s not like we’ll be doing labs yet.”

  “How do you know?” she challenges, eyeing me seriously. “They could test us to see where we’re at.”

  I snort. My poor misguided friend. “Not gonna happen,” I say, shaking my head. “They’ll probably go over the syllabus, our schedule, and give us a list of supplies before sending us on our way. Besides, we have to get through our core education classes before they let us near the nursing ones.”

  My phone buzzes, and I pause at the door, pulling it from the front pocket of my bookbag.

  Good luck – E

  I smile. Thanks. Headed to my first class now – M

  Talk later? – E

  Sure – M

  “What has you smiling like that?” Layla asks, looking between me and the phone I’m turning off and shoving back into my bag.

  “Oh, nothing.” I wave her away. “The sheriff was making sure I made it all right.”

  “Now, I know you’re lying.” She pouts, looking at me with puppy eyes. “Please, tell me what’s going on. You’ve been way too secretive about how you were able to come to Triple C, and now you’re smiling at a text that isn’t from me.”

  “Fine,” I relent, looking to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “I met a guy.”

  Her brows arch high on her forehead. “And?”

  “Don’t be obtuse,” I say, huffing. “We hung out.”

  “That’s it?” she asks, rolling her eyes. “That explains the text but not how you were able to pay your tuition.”

  “It was a scholarship, okay?” I say, irritation filtering into my tone. “It wasn’t my first choice, but it’ll get me what I want in the end.” There. That’s as close to the truth as I can get.

  “See?” She bumps my shoulder. “That wasn’t so hard.”

  “Whatever,” I say as we enter our English class.

  I registered us for classes a couple weeks ago online and made sure we were in the same ones, aside from college algebra, which Layla refused to take this semester. Now I might regret that just a tiny bit. I love Layla; she’s my girl, but I didn’t consider how she might fit into the deal I made with Enzo. We’ve only texted here and there over the past month. There’s been no offers to meet up and only two phone conversations, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be.

  Soon, if I have a say.

  As expected, class is relatively short, but psych starts soon, so we hang around campus by going to the library and getting on the computers to take our online syllabus quizzes. And while sitting there answering yes to the single syllabus question, a thought occurs to me. I used my money from Enzo to pay for my entire degree, including a nest egg set aside for all the required books and other supplies I’ll be expected to buy—according to current class standards.

  But I don’t have a laptop, nor do I have home internet.

  Hello new expense.

  A smile forms.

  The day continues with two more classes, and when they’re over, instead of texting Enzo, I decide to make an appearance instead. Maybe I can goad him into fucking me for more cash. It’s a win/win from where I sit.

  Orgasms and a laptop.

  After a quick stop by the house to shower and change into skimpy cut-off jean shorts and a teeny pink tank, I’m back on the road, heading toward the outskirts of town. A loud pop startles the shit out of me, and I hang on to the steering wheel for dear life as the truck shimmies and shakes to a stop. Getting out and slamming the door as hard as I can, I stomp around to the passenger side. My tire is not only flat, but it’s busted apart with shreds of rubber hanging off.

  I kick the fender, and it hurts my sandal-clad foot. “Motherfucker,” I spit, jumping around to shake off the pain.

  A distant rumble echoes in my ears, and I put my aching foot to the ground and limp around to the road. This must be my lucky day. My smile is wide as the Harley comes around a curve up ahead, but the closer it gets, the more my lips fall. Jackson Landers comes to a rolling stop before me.

  “Oh,” I say, disappointment seeping from my tone. “It’s you.”

  “Who did you expect?” he asks, frowning.

  “Nobody,” I reply, changing my tune. “I thought it was Stevie. He owes me ten bucks, and I could use a big, strong tire-changing hunk of man.”

  He smirks, flexing his muscles. “Maybe you did get lucky.”

  “Maybe,” I tease, playing him for everything he’s worth. “You gonna help a girl out?”

  “You gonna tell a guy what happened at the sale?” he retorts, the frown returning.

  “I told you,” I snap, getting in his face to push the lie. “Someone knocked me out, and I woke in the parking lot. Sirens were coming in the distance so I hit the woods to keep Rodney from finding me. It took me hours to get home afterward.”

  He eyes me curiously, looking for the lie, but he won’t find it. I’m that fucking good. “I know there’s a new MC in town,” he says, pushing down his kickstand. “They’re the ones who blew the place.”

  “Yeah,” I say, snapping my fingers. “I saw a new guy in the diner this morning.”

  “Right,” he replies, nodding as he stands and heads toward the back of the truck. “You got a spare?”

  “You don’t see it attached to the fucking fender?” I ask, pointing where he just passed.

  Fucking idiot.

  But I need him.

  “Sure, sure,” he says, ignoring my bitchy attitude.

  He’s used to it.

  After he gets the tire and jack, we go back around to the passenger side fender. While he works, I try to be a smart little investigator on Enzo’s behalf. “How do you know it was the new MC who blew the auction place?”

  “Remember Lois?” he asks.

  “Sammy’s girlfriend?”

  “Yeah.” He nods, working to loosen the bolt thingys that hold the tire on. “She was mistaken for one of the girls at the sale and was ‘rescued’ with the rest.” He makes quotes around rescued. “As soon as she was dropped off at home, she came running over, crying to me about someone breaking Sammy’s neck.”

  A spike of fear moves through me. I’d forgotten about her when I concocted my lie. Did she see me get taken to the van? Or at the clubhouse? Has she told Jack that I was given personal treatment by the man who was in charge of the whole attack?

  “Wow,” I say, pretending to be surprised, which I sorta am. “So they just took the rest of the girls home after they stole them from you?”

  “From what I can tell,” he says, pushing the spare tire onto the truck. “I’m not sure why you got left behind.” He pauses and lifts a suspicious brow my way.

  I hold his stare, shrugging. “Maybe it was because they thought I was too old for the sale?”

  “Maybe.” He goes back to work on the tire. “They had no problem burning everyone else alive.”

  I fake a chill. “Must’ve been my lucky night.”

  “I guess it was.” He stands, grabbing the shredded tire and tossing it into the bed of my truck before looking at me with a perplexed expression. “Where ya headed?”

  I almost swallow my tongue. “I’m meeting Layla at Fisherman’s,” I say quickly, lying through my teeth. “We’re going to cel
ebrate our first day of class.”

  “You’re going to school?” he asks, suspicious again.

  “Yep,” I respond without missing a beat. “I was able to get a couple scholarships, and surprisingly, Rodney chipped in a little too.”

  His face looks sour at the mention of good old dad, but his response is still nice. “You got what you wanted.” He pauses, blowing out a breath. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad the sale didn’t go down that night.”

  Keep a straight face, Randi. Keep a straight face. “Me too, Jack.”

  “I do have a couple irons in the fire, so I’ll be in touch.” He taps the fender, moving toward his bike. “You should be good to go.”

  “Thanks.”

  He doesn’t crank his bike until I’m pulled onto the road, but I watch in the rearview to make sure he continues going the other way. When he does, I blow out a deep breath. Playing games with Jackson is dangerous, always has been, but I have no choice.

  He’ll kill me if he finds out I’m sleeping with the enemy—literally.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’ve somehow sweet-talked Jameson into letting me through the gates of the clubhouse without alerting Enzo of my presence. As I get out of the truck, I notice several cars parked in the lot, and all five bikes are here as well. Loud music spills from inside, and the memories from being here before make me tingle.

  I don’t bother knocking as I let myself inside. Nothing could prepare me for what I find, though. No matter where I look, there’s nothing but debauchery to be seen. There’s triple the number of tits as there are cocks, but one cock in particular is the only one that holds my interest, and it’s currently hidden from my prying eyes.

  Down some bitch’s throat.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Slobber-Knob

  Enzo

  I’m settled in a chair with my head laid back and my eyes closed as some random bunny works over my cock. She’s not overly talented, but a warm, wet mouth never fails to bring pleasure. I thrust my hips, and she takes it all in stride, hollowing her cheeks and humming, which sends vibrations sizzling through me.

  I groan.

  On the next stroke, her lips touch the base of my cock, sending it slipping halfway down her throat. It feels sublime, but as she gags around me, seeking to eject my erection, I realize something is terribly wrong.

  I lift my head, and my eyes pop open, only to meet a pair of stormy blues. “Miranda,” I mumble, realizing shit’s about to go down but unable to give it the proper response. “What the fuck?”

  She has a fistful of the bunny’s hair and is holding her down, effectively choking her with my cock. The bunny’s eyes are watery and the red veins are bulging, but it feels so fucking good I’m sick enough to allow it to continue. Just seeing the fire rage in Miranda’s eyes causes my balls to tighten as my orgasm builds.

  “You like that?” she smirks, pushing a little harder. “I thought we had an agreement.”

  I groan, the knot in my groin tightening. “We do.”

  She snatches the bunny by her hair, pulling her off my cock, which sends her into a coughing fit. My orgasm retreats, and I whine at the loss. “This bitch isn’t part of it,” she snarls at the girl, who’s gasping for breath and begging me with her bloodshot eyes to do something. But I can’t. I’m too turned on by the prospect of what might happen next. “I agreed to no one else, and that fucking goes for you too.”

  My brows furrow as my lust-filled mind works to comprehend her statement, but I must not be fast enough because she draws back and starts wailing on the bunny’s face. Blood splatters all over the girl’s naked skin, and my cock throbs at Miranda’s possessive display. I’m in a trance as I watch her kick and punch and snatch handfuls of raven hair from her perceived foe’s head. It’s the screams of terror that finally filter through the horny haze and snap me into reality.

  The rest of the room has gone silent, and other bunnies look on in horror as Miranda beats the shit out of this chick for sucking my cock. And goddamn, that fucker has yet to go down, turned on even more by the violence of her attack. I shake off the fog that still clings to me like a second skin and stand, fastening my jeans and reaching into the melee.

  “Fucking hell,” I roar, grabbing Miranda from behind and yanking her off the poor girl, who’s in a ball on the floor, trying to cover her face. “Calm the fuck down.”

  I attempt to set her on her feet, but her fists turn to me. “How dare you?” she screams, punching and clawing and kicking. “Get your fucking hands off me. I’m done with your stupid ass.”

  She’s pissed, so I do what I do best when it comes to her. I lift her and toss her over my shoulder. She pitches a goddamn fit the whole way, but I don’t let her down until she’s tossed to her ass in the middle of my bed.

  She straightens up immediately, looking at the sheets with wide eyes, and scrambles off it. “Don’t ever set me on your disease-infested bed again,” she spits, attempting to walk past me.

  I grab her arm. “What’s your fucking problem?”

  “My problem?” She jabs herself in the chest with her pointer finger. “You’re my fucking problem.” Now she’s jabbing it at me. “How dare you make an arrangement with me and then allow some slut to suck your cock? Did you fuck her too? Or better yet, how many whores have you fucked since you agreed to only be with me?”

  “Wait just a fucking minute,” I say, holding up my palms. “I did not agree to that insane bullshit.”

  Her eyes go wide, and then they narrow to evil, tiny slits. “You lying motherfucker,” she snarls, advancing on me. “That was the only condition of the arrangement.”

  “That condition was for you,” I stress, my cock throbbing as I remember the feel of her untouched pussy spasming around me.

  She loses it then, flying at me all fists and claws like an enraged tiger. “You piece of shit. Who do you think you are?” She’s doing everything in her power to hurt me, and I’m doing everything in my power to prevent that while also trying not to hurt her in return.

  It ain’t fucking easy.

  I finally lift her and sandwich her arms between our bodies, her face just inches from mine. “Calm down,” I say evenly, trying to soothe her anger. “I’m sorry. Okay?” She takes several deep breaths, and I think I might be getting through to her. “I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. I thought you knew I wasn’t going without pussy.”

  She draws back to get a better look at me, and I try to send the apology through my eyes as well as my words. For a brief moment, I think everything is going to be okay, but fury flashes in her eyes only a second before she slams her head forward and busts me straight in the mouth. The taste of iron seeps onto my tongue, and I drop her ass to the floor as I reach for my already-swelling lips.

  I guess she doesn’t accept.

  “Bitch,” I mutter from behind my hand.

  “Skank-fucking liar,” she returns, crossing her arms and eyeing the door behind me. “I’m out of here. We can pretend we never met.”

  Even with the taste of blood on my tongue, my cock is throbbing with need—especially with the taste of blood on my tongue. Blood she drew. She’s so fucking hot with her drive to attack things that displease her. And she’s so fucking wrong for thinking she’s going to get away from me that easily.

  I advance on her, my voice smooth as honey. “I don’t want you to go,” I murmur, reaching out a lone finger to trail across her bare arm, sending goosebumps scattering across her scintillating flesh. “Maybe I made a mistake.”

  She snorts, stepping back so I’m no longer touching her. “You definitely made a fucking mistake,” she says, looking away from my gaze. “But it was me who should’ve known better. If it sounds too good to be true, it usually is.”

  “No,” I say softly, her words causing a strange ache in my chest. “I’m committed to our agreement. I want to make sure your schooling is taken care of so you’ll never be in that fucked up place again.”

  She shakes her head, her sa
d blue eyes connecting with mine. “That’s no longer possible.”

  “Why not?” I press, taking a step toward her. “I’m still here. I have the cash. My cock is aching to be inside you this very second.”

  She lifts her chin, almost like she’s looking down on me, which isn’t technically possible. “I refuse to be part of a fucking harem.”

  So this is what it all boils down to, which I guess makes sense given the ass-whooping she delivered earlier. I take another step, entering her personal space, my voice soft but insistent. “And if I agree to give all that up?”

  She laughs, but it isn’t a cute giggle or even a belly-shaking one. It’s sarcastic as fuck. “Like I could trust you to tell me the truth.”

  One more step and I reach out and grip her chin. “A Dirty Lion always keeps his word.” My gaze is fierce because if I have nothing, I have my goddamn word.

  The belief is clear in her eyes, so I press her further. Leaning down, I pass my headbutt-swollen lips over hers, softly at first, testing. She doesn’t respond, but she also doesn’t retreat. Another pass and I add my tongue, tracing the seam of her closed lips. She sighs into my mouth and I grin as I take advantage, slipping my tongue between her open lips.

  Big fucking mistake.

  She catches it between her teeth, just hard enough to trap it in place and cause me copious amounts of pain. Her eyes bore into mine, and I’d love to say I’m getting whatever message she’s sending, but I’m not. I’m only getting fucking harder. This girl is driving me insane with her penchant for inflicting pain—in a good way. She bites down, eliciting a hiss, before reaching for me, her hands anchoring around my nape as she pulls me closer and soothes my tongue with her own.

  My head goes fuzzy and my cock pulses, but above it all, I want to devour her whole. This kiss is hungry and angry, nothing like the last we shared and everything I want all future ones to be. She tastes like fire and fury, so I return it with ice and calm, melting her ire and conquering her resistance.

 

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