by K. L. Savage
Keeping one hand on her lower back, I reach around and grip the headboard for more leverage so I can shorten my thrusts and speed them up. I watch her pussy suck me in, her pretty pink walls trying to keep me inside every time I pull out. My bicep is straining, and my abs burn along with the severe ache in my ribs as I flex my body to ram into her.
“Logan, oh god, I’m going to come! I’m going to—” Her mouth falls open on a silent scream as a gush of her hot slick drops down my shaft. So warm, and her walls clench and spasm around me, but I’m nowhere near done with her since she pulled an orgasm from me already.
“That’s it, little sparrow,” I bring my lips down on her neck. “Try to fly away from me; I dare you.” I flatten my tongue and lick the sweaty skin to her ear. “I’ll just catch you.”
“I’ll let you catch me,” she moans, pressing her face harder against the pillow. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
I grip her hips and flip her to her back, and her tits bounce since I’m still fucking her without stopping. I bring my other hand to the headboard and hold on tight. The wood cracks the harder I grip to plummet her cunt. I watch her body react to me. Her nipples are red and swollen, and her eyes are closed, and she bites her plump bottom lip. Her cheeks are flushed, and she moans my name over and over again.
“Sing for me,” I slam against her, and one of the bed boards under the mattress breaks, sending the box spring to the floor, but she doesn’t even notice.
“Logan.” She shakes her head.
“I said fucking sing for me.” I wrap my hand around her throat and lift her until she’s sitting on top of me.
She rolls her hips and lets out a harmonic moan when my cock head drags along the spot inside her. It’s the most beautiful sound, and it causes my eyes to roll back to my head. “You’re in my soul, Logan.”
I grin, loving how wet her cunt is making it a slick pool for my cock. “If your soul is your pussy, then I’m about ten inches deep, claiming it as mine.”
“Yours,” she says with parted lips.
“What’s that?” I sneer.
“Yours,” she screams as her body bows, and she claws at my chest like a fucking cat in heat, and she’s depending on me to curve the need.
“And I’m yours, Juliette.” I slide my fingers over her jaw, and our eyes meet, our breaths mingling as we pant. Her pace slows, and I wrap my arms around her waist to pull us closer together. Chest to chest, I kiss her heart and pour every ounce of emotion I have for her with every slow intrusion of my cock.
Every wet glide of her pussy brings me closer, and the closer I get to coming, the tighter I hold onto her. I’m afraid she’ll disappear again. I dig my nails into her back, clutching her to me like a lifeline thrown at me in raging seas.
My life before her was like drowning in the waves of darkness. I could barely breathe; I suffocated. Juliette is like coming up for that first breath of air, every damn second I’m with her.
Her breathing speeds up, and her hands clutch onto my neck, her body bending back as I hold onto her hips. I eye her neck and tits while the tips of her hair tickle my thighs as she orgasms again, her pussy sucking my cum right from my tight sack.
I bury my face against her chest, right where that beautiful fucking heart is that changed my life, and grunt as I fill her up again, painting her walls with my hot seed. We collapse together, our bodies quaking from the aftershocks of pleasure.
“I think we broke the bed,” I state, looking around to notice a crack down the middle of the headboard and the bed slightly tilted to the left.
“That’s when you know it’s good.” She giggles and lays her head on my chest, right where Reaper carved his warning on my skin. “Did this happen because of me?”
I run my hands through her hair and hum. “Yes, but don’t blame yourself. I owed him a punishment, and not listening to him about staying away from you pushed him over the edge.”
“It’s brutal.”
“It’s the MC life, little sparrow, but it’s the life I live.”
“As long as I live it with you, I’ll be okay.” She yawns. Her lips kiss my chest, and she sighs happily and falls back to sleep in a record amount of time.
Juliette has showed me that the most powerful entity in existence is love and that hate no longer has a permanent home here.
Epilogue
JULIETTE
Three weeks later
“No, I don’t want to go,” I tell Trixie who is shoving me on the stage for opening night of Kings Club. “You can’t make me!” I stare at the curtain blocking me and the crowd of people waiting to hear music. Logan’s live band canceled at the last minute, and now he doesn’t have anyone to perform, and the entire place is packed with bikers, Vegas locals, and tourists.
“I can’t.” I shake my head, feeling the stage fright. My head is spinning, and the nerves are churning. “I’ve never done this before. I can’t, Trixie.” Sweat has taken over my entire body, and the more I keep rubbing my hands against my dress, the tackier they become.
Logan has worked so hard to get this place up and running after everything that happened. The other motorcycle chapters stayed behind to help him, and magically it ended up so beautiful with dark red lights and black velvet booths. Then there are lamps dropping from the ceilings to give it a low glow.
“Girly, Logan needs you. He is freaking out because people are leaving, and this night sets precedent for all the other nights.”
She had me at ‘Logan needs you’ and it still doesn’t take away the nerves.
“I have your favorite Nora Jones song at the ready. Are you?”
“No, but I’ll do it.”
“That a girl!” Trixie shoves me out from the long red curtain, and I stumble on stage, my heels clicking against the old wooden planks. The entire club falls silent as everyone stares at me. My eyes search for Logan who is at the bar, talking to Pirate who is drunkenly making drinks. He slaps Logan’s chest to get his attention, then points to me on stage.
Logan turns to me, and I see the panic in his eyes. Trixie is right—he needs me, and I can’t fail him; especially when he has been there for me. Smoke clings to the air, creating a light veil through the atmosphere.
I walk up to the microphone and the instrumental music of Nora Jones. I let out a shaky breath and stay locked in an intimate gaze with Logan. Knowing he’s here is enough to have the first note pouring out. After the first twenty seconds, I relax and hold the classic microphone with a delicate hand, rubbing it up and down sexually, pretending it’s Logan to help me put on a show.
I sing to him. I sing for him because if he wasn’t here, if this wasn’t his club, I wouldn’t be here. I bust out the last note and crescendo and then end on a slight whisper. My breath against the mic causes static in the speakers, and I take a step back.
Everyone is still silent.
I swallow, wondering if I sounded that bad, but simultaneously everyone stands, claps, and cheers. Logan runs to me and jumps onto the stage, wearing a Kings Club shirt. It’s black, and the name of the club in on the left breast.
“That was the best thing I’ve ever heard. Damn, I think I just found myself a singer every Friday and Saturday night. What do you say?”
“What? Seriously?” I gape at him, waiting to see if he’s joking.
“Seriously. No one else I want here besides you. What do you think?”
“I’ll do it for you.” I wrap my arms around his neck and smile before he owns my lips in a hot kiss.
Catcalls and whistles sound as the crowd tempts us to kiss harder and longer. “I love you, little sparrow.”
“I love you too.” Logan waves to the crowd and drags me through the back and behind the curtain. Trixie is jumping up and down, clapping.
“Not right now, Trixie. I’m about to fu—”
“Tool!” Poodle’s voice echoes through the backstage, and Bullseye, Reaper, and Sarah follow us back here.
Logan closes his eyes in annoyance. “What, P
oodle? What do you want?”
“Tool, your fucking mutt is dead. You hear me? Dead!” he shouts and then smiles with nothing but love at me. “You have a beautiful voice, Juliette.”
“Thanks,” I answer him, shifting my weight on my feet.
“You”—he points at Tool. “My Lady is pregnant! Fucking pregnant! Your damn dog fucked her, and now her show figure is done. Forever. You hear me, Tool? I’m going to kill him.”
“How do you know it was Yeti?” Logan crosses his arms and stares at Poodle, bulging his biceps.
“Because there isn’t another dog in the house that would mount Lady like … like an animal.”
“Yeti is nothing but a gentleman!” Tool defends his dog, and I roll my eyes. I can’t believe this is an actual conversation.
“Psh!” Poodle snorts. “Like father, like son. If you’re banging away every night, it’s no wonder where he learns it from!”
“Oh, you sonofa—” Tool launches himself at Poodle, and I decide to walk away toward the bar.
“Me too, girly,” Trixie says, sliding her arms through mine.
“Me three,” Sarah loops her arm through my other arm.
“Men,” I say with a shake of my head as I lean against the long wooden bar. Pirate is making a drink behind the bar. On the wall above the alcohol shelves is the screwdriver Logan used to carry around. Logan decided to retire, wanting to officially put the past behind us, so he keeps a screwdriver on him at all times now; with a yellow handle instead of a blue one.
That one damn screwdriver holds the memory of Logan killing his father and me killing mine.
It’s time to focus on the future now, and Tool has been using the screwdriver to help Skirt build our house.
Logan is good at loving me, something I think surprises the badass biker. We killed the hate the moment the screwdriver drove through my father’s head.
Hate is a tool, Tool no longer uses.
Only love lives here now.
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Acknowledgments
To my Ruthless Readers, thanks for taking a chance and starting this journey with me.
Jenifer Porter Hughes, thank you for supporting me and so kindly offering notes and suggestions.
Wander, as always, thanks for sharing your talent and taking the perfect images. Still amazes me every day that I have your images on my cover.
Andrey, I’m not sure what I did to deserve you in my corner, but thank you. Your kindness has been such a blessing.
Donna thanks for always being there ready to help, offer advice and sending inspiration.
Give Me Books and all the blogs that are always sharing and reviewing my books, thank you.
K.Lynn thanks for all your reviews and support with Book Haven Book Blog.
To My Favorite, I love you to the moon and back.
To my instigator, I couldn’t ask for anyone better to make bad decisions with.
Silla, as always, thanks for being amazing! You take the role of anybody I need at that point in time, and I know it can’t be easy, but I really do appreciate it.
To my other half, thanks for always having my back and always picking up my slack.
Harloe, as always, thank you for being so awesome.
Mom, thanks for helping me get this off the ground. For keeping calm when all I want to do is panic. For reminding me that even though I’m struggling now, all my hard works is gonna pay off.
Jeff 5 little words.
Lisa, as always, thanks for your friendship and thanks for always being there.
Austin, thanks for always being there and supportive. Y’all are the greatest.
