Nitro: MC Biker Romance (Dark Pharaohs Motorcycle Club Romance Book 4)

by Ivy Black

  I look up into his eyes as my pulse races. “I need you inside of me, Milo.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “I need it. Now.”

  His smile was wide, his eyes full of hunger. “Music to my ears.”

  I let go of his staff long enough for him to shimmy his sweats down. But when he stands up again, I grip it hard and start to stroke him. A throaty growl passes his lips as I jerk him off and then his mouth crashes into mine. He slides his tongue into my mouth so forcefully, it steals my breath.

  Milo steps forward, pressing the head of his staff against my opening. He bites my neck as he plunges himself into me, and I throw my head back, a scream erupting from my throat. He’s so large, he stretches me open, but that pinch of pain makes the pleasure all the more vibrant.

  I grip his shoulders as Milo starts to thrust himself into me. I’m so wet, he slides along my inner walls with ease and drives himself deep, hitting that spot inside of me that has me screaming. I dig my nails into his shoulders, drawing a hiss from him, but he keeps pumping his cock into me.

  It’s been so long since I’ve been with anybody, all these sensations feel new again. Milo leans forward and our mouths find each other again. Our tongues twirl together, a tornado in my mouth as he continues to plunge himself into me. Milo pulls back and looks me in the eye, his vibrant green gaze so intense that it makes my heart leap into my throat.

  “You feel so amazing. I’ve missed you, Milo. I’ve missed you so much,” I gasp.

  “I’ve missed you too,” he says, his voice low and breathy.

  I lock my ankles behind his back, and Milo presses me down onto the counter. He grabs my hips, his fingers pressing hard into my flesh, and pounds himself into me even harder. The sound of our bodies slapping together, the sharp crack of his flesh meeting mine, echoes around the kitchen filling my ears with the sound of our hunger for each other. The sound of it stokes the fires of desire in me even higher.

  I love the way Milo feels so deep inside of me. I’ve never been able to get enough of him as I use my legs to pull him even deeper. I feel Milo’s body tensing, his muscles growing taut as he drives himself into me with a wildness I’ve missed so much. That I’ve dreamed about. Pleasured myself to.

  The pressure is rising inside of me once more, and as he slams his staff into me, he’s pushing me to the brink. Milo’s face is tight, and his jaw is clenched. I can see that he’s close as well but is trying mightily to hold off. As much as I want this to go on even longer, I want to feel him cum inside of me. I’m desperate to feel the warmth of his seed filling me up.

  “Cum for me, Milo,” I gasp. “Cum inside of me.”

  His body grows even tighter. As he drives himself into me one final time, he holds himself there, hitting that spot that drives me crazy. It pushes me over the brink, and I scream his name as I cum harder than I ever have in my life. I writhe beneath him on the counter. He holds me as my body tenses and flexes. My orgasm hits me so hard, it steals my breath away.

  Milo holds himself deep inside of me, his face strained, his eyes shining with the light of his desire. I feel his cock, buried so deep in my core, twitch and throb. And as he bursts, he lets out a roar that fills my ears with its sweet sound. Milo holds onto my hips, squeezing me hard as he cums, his staff pulsing and quivering, making my own orgasm even more intense.

  I press my head back against the hard granite countertop, reveling in the feeling of his cum filling me up. The warmth and stickiness of it send waves of ecstasy washing through me. I close my eyes and smile, feeling more amazing than I have in a long, long time.

  Milo pulls me into a sitting position, and I wrap my arms around him. We share a kiss that’s soft and sweet. Gentle. But as I look into his eyes, I see a thousand questions—questions I’m sure he sees reflected back in mine.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nitro

  “What’s up with you today, man?”

  I look over at Spyder and shrug. “Nothin’. I’m good.”

  “Nah. You aren’t good, man,” he says. “Something’s up. What is it?”

  “What are you, psychic?”

  He chuckles. “I am just a keen observer of human nature. And my observations indicate that you are brooding over something.”

  “You’re a regular Jane Goodall.”

  He cocks his head and looks at me. “Who?”

  “Forget it.”

  I lean back in the seat and look out at the road ahead of us. Spyder’s behind the wheel of the van. He checks his side mirrors before turning back to the road. I key the two-way radio in my hand and hold it up to my mouth.

  “Blake. How we lookin’ back there?” I ask.

  “All clear,” he replies.

  “Good. Keep your eyes peeled.”

  “Copy that.”

  We’re making our first run since the last one was jacked, and the tension’s high. Spyder and I have a load of guns and weed we’re taking to our secondary warehouse to keep it out of the ATF’s prying eyes. Blake and Grease are tailing us in a follow car at a discrete distance, keeping an eye on the road back there. If anybody’s trying to sneak up on us from behind, they’ll let us know. We are not going to let this load get jacked. Prophet will have our asses if we do.

  “So talk to me, man,” Spyder presses.

  “There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re brooding. And it obviously has to do with Hadley so spill it, brother,” he replies.

  I sigh loudly and run my hand through my hair. Everything that happened last night is still a blur in my mind. I wasn’t thinking about it when we started. It just kind of happened. Not that I regret it. Not really. But it raises a lot of questions in my mind. I mean, where does that leave us? What does it mean?

  “Come on, bro. Lighten your load. Talk to me,” he says.

  “Hadley and I slept together last night,” I confess.

  Spyder’s eyes grow comically wide, and his mouth falls open into a wide “O” as he looks at me.

  “Eyes on the road please?” I point to the road ahead of us.

  Spyder reluctantly turns his face back to the road, but the look of shock doesn’t fade for a minute. But when it does, a wide smile replaces it, and he starts to laugh. He slaps his palm on the steering wheel.

  “Hell yeah. That’s my boy,” he screeches.

  “Shut up,” I say. “This isn’t something to celebrate.”

  “What are you talking about? You losing your born-again cherry is absolutely something to celebrate!”

  “My what?”

  He cuts a glance at me and grins. “Dude. It’s been so long since you got laid, you were pretty much a virgin again. Hence, your born-again cherry.”

  I try to scowl but can’t hold it and laugh. “You’re such an asshole.”

  “Yes, I am. But I’m not wrong,” he says. “So? How was it?”

  “What?”

  “How was it?”

  “Like I’m going to tell you that,” I say.

  “What? What’s wrong with just telling me whether you enjoyed yourself or not?” he asks.

  “Of course, I enjoyed myself. A lot,” I tell him. “But we were always good at that. That was never an issue for us.”

  Spyder laughs and slaps his palm against the wheel again. “That’s my boy.”

  “Seriously, stop. I don’t know what this all means. It’s trippin’ me out,” I say.

  “What’s to trip out about?” he asks. “You and Hadley obviously still have feelings for each other. This is just a natural extension of that.”

  “We’re not getting back together.”

  “Are you sure about that?” he asks.

  “I’m pretty sure, yeah,” I say. “This was just a one-time thing, I’m sure. But I’ll be honest, it’s fucking me up pretty good.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I still love her, man,” I say. “I s
till love her and I’m pretty sure she’s moved past us.”

  “If that were true, do you think she would have slept with you last night?”

  “I don’t know, man. I just don’t know,” I reply.

  I shake my head and run a hand over my face. My thoughts and emotions are a whirlwind inside my mind, and I don’t even know how to begin sorting them all out. Hadley made it pretty clear when she broke things off with me that she was done. That she couldn’t do it anymore and that I’d destroyed what we had between us.

  It didn’t matter that after we split, I started doing what she had been begging me to do for so long—seek help for my issues. But by then, she was long gone. She’d moved on and told me to do the same. I am always going to have these issues. I’m always going to be a broken person. No matter what I do, I can’t unsee or undo the things I saw and did over in the shit. There is no cure for what I went through. No pill I can swallow or shot I can take for the baggage I brought home with me. And because of that, what I broke between us can’t be fixed.

  “You’re overthinking this, bro. As usual,” Spyder says. “The fact of the matter is that you and Hadley still obviously have some unresolved feelings between you. That culminated in you two banging each other like a drum set.”

  I laugh. “Shut up, man. You make it sound so sordid.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. It resulted in you two making passionate love,” he replied with a faux English accent.

  We share a laugh then fall silent. It’s possible I’m overthinking this. I’m not so sure that’s the case, but it’s possible. Hadley is not the sort of person who sleeps around. She’s the sort of person who has to share some sort of intense emotional connection with somebody before she’ll give herself to them. Frankly, that’s one of those things I always loved about her. I love that she knows her own mind and her own limits. To be honest, it always made me feel special that she did give herself to me.

  But the more I think about it, the more I think that what happened last night was just… residual. Our relationship was always powerful. It was emotionally intense. I think I can speak for the both of us when I say that our relationship was the most passionate and fervent either of us had ever been in. By far.

  And we didn’t split up because we stopped loving each other. We stopped seeing each other because my problems got in the way. So that energy didn’t just evaporate. It didn’t just disappear into the ether. Last night was probably just a case of those residual feelings coalescing into a physical frenzy. It was us falling into the same sort of old patterns we did when we were bantering over dinner. That was the natural conclusion to things.

  “I think it’s just a case of us getting caught up in the heat of the moment,” I tell him. “I don’t think it was anything more than that.”

  “Well, do you want it to be more than that?”

  “Yeah. I mean... maybe.” I shrug. “I guess. I don’t know.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, you do. I know you do. Like you said, you’re still in love with the girl.”

  “Yeah, but that does me no good since she isn’t in love with me.”

  “Oh? Did she tell you that? Did she happen to mention that in between cries of ecstasy?”

  “You’re such an asshole,” I say.

  “What I’m hearing is you assuming a lot,” Spyder says. “And you know what they say about assuming anything.”

  “I do. And if you spout that stupid saying, I will beat you within an inch of your life. I swear to God, I will.”

  He chuckles and shakes his head at me. I hate to admit it but he’s right. I am making assumptions. However, in the absence of other compelling evidence, it’s about all I can do. And no, I don’t necessarily consider Hadley sleeping with me compelling evidence. Like I said, I’m pretty sure that was just the result of residual feelings between us.

  “You’re better with Hadley in your life, man.” Spyder suddenly looks serious. “You’re happier. Or at least, happy-ish, anyway. But I know you feel better about the world with her than you do without her.”

  I shrug. “I’m not denying that.”

  “And you’ve done a lot of work on yourself since you two split up. God’s honest truth, man, but you’re a lot better now than you were then. You’re a more balanced and grounded person. You don’t go off into those dark periods as often. Since you started therapy and group, you haven’t been as depressed,” he says.

  “None of that guarantees she’ll get back together with me.”

  “No, of course not. But it does give you a fighting chance,” he urges. “And I think you need to take that chance and run with it. The fact that she sought you out and that she slept with you tells me there’s still something there. Fight for it, man. Fight for her.”

  I open my mouth to reply when Blake’s panicked voice comes over the radio. “Incoming! Incoming!” he screams. “You’ve got two on your tail! Two SUVs. One red, one white! Two on motorcycles!”

  “Shit,” Spyder says.

  I check the side-view mirror and sure enough, I see them running up on us from behind. My gut clenches tight, and I grab the AR I’ve got sitting at my feet and take the safety off. Spyder stomps on the accelerator, and the van shoots forward. But this isn’t a high performance vehicle, so we’re not going to outrun much in this bucket.

  “How in the hell did they find us?” I growl. “We took a different route.”

  “I don’t know, but we’re in some deep shit, man.”

  I key the radio. “Blake, get up here. We need help, man.”

  “We’re tryin’, man!” Blake comes back.

  “I’m getting off the road. We’ll try to lose them on some surface streets,” Spyder says as he angles toward the off-ramp.

  “You sure that’s smart?”

  “Hell no. But out here on the highway, we’re sitting ducks,” he says. “At least off the highway, maybe we can find some cover. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather get out of this van and fight it out.”

  “I’m with you.”

  The SUVs are right on us, and Spyder waits until the last minute before he jerks the wheel and cuts a pair of cars off as he slices his way over to the off-ramp. The SUVs overshoot the off-ramp, and I let out a whoop.

  “They’re gonna have to take the next one. You bought us some time,” I call.

  “A little bit of time. They’ll be back,” he said. “We need to find someplace to make a stand.”

  “Copy that.”

  The motorcycles, a couple of rice rockets, were able to navigate the sudden turn and are still on us. As one weaves to the left to try and overtake us on the off-ramp, Spyder swerves and forces it to back off. The other bike tries to cut around us on the other side, and Spyder repeats the move, forcing it to back off as well.

  At the bottom of the off-ramp, Spyder takes the turn fast. The tires squeal and there’s a blare of horns and the shriek of tires as one car locks up its brakes to keep from plowing into us. It forces the two bikes to stop, allowing us to rocket off.

  “Shit,” I mutter and key the radio. “Blake, we took exit twenty-three-B. Repeat, we had to get off the road. We took exit twenty-three-B. Do you copy?”

  “We just passed it. We’ll have to circle back,” he shouts into the radio. “We’ll pull up your tracker. We’ll find you. Get someplace safe, man.”

  “Watch your six, guys,” I call back. “The two SUVs are out there. They’re having to circle back as well, so don’t engage unless you have to.”

  “Copy that.”

  Spyder looks over at me, his face anxious. “There’s an abandoned warehouse complex about a mile up the road. We can make a stand there.”

  “Do it.”

  He jams on the accelerator again, rocketing toward the complex. In the side-view mirror, I can see the motorcycles racing up on us. We’re on a long stretch of road that cuts through a small town. There isn’t much traffic, thankfully. And hopefully, that means there won’t be as many c
ops out here. The last thing we need is for local PD to roll up on us when we’re in the middle of a gunfight—with a can loaded up with weed and automatic weapons.

  Spyder takes a quick turn, and the van bounces down a pitted and rutted dirt road. We slam through potholes and speed into a cracked blacktop parking lot. Spyder jams on the brakes, and the van fishtails to a stop in a cloud of smoke and burnt rubber. Both of us jump out of the van and already have our weapons at the ready.

  The bikes roar down the dirt road, coming straight for us, so we open up. The chatter of our weapons rings out, the sound echoing across the lot. As bullets slam into the earth, the bikes weave to avoid them. The first bike dips, hitting one of those potholes, and flips. The rider is sent flying and hits the pavement with a sickening crunch and lays flat on his back, unmoving.

  The second rider though has a weapon in his hand and is squeezing off shots. I duck behind the van but hear Spyder grunt.

  “Spyder!” I call out. “Are you hit?”

  “I’m good. Stay covered up!” he orders.

  I duck back around the van and see him on the ground clutching his arm. Scarlet blood squeezes out between his fingers, and his face is contorted with pain. The rider swings around and starts to come about, lowering the barrel of his weapon. I dash out from the cover of the van and grab Spyder by the collar of his coat.

  “I told you to stay covered up!” Spyder growls.

  “Shut up.”

  Seeing the bike come about, I let go of Spyder’s collar and stand up, bringing my weapon to bear. I squeeze off a burst, the chatter of my AR loud in my ears. I see the rider twitch and jerk, the blast taking him in the chest. He is pitched backward, falling off his bike, which crashes to the ground and slides in a screech of plastic and metal. The rider lays on the ground completely still.