Savage Kings MC - South Carolina Box Set #1

by Lane Hart

  “I’m not sure. I do want to be with him. I’ve missed him for so long and I was angry at him for all this time. I just…I worry that we could be jumping into something too soon. It’s all happened so fast.”

  “Doesn’t it always,” Tessa mutters.

  “Fast or slow doesn’t matter,” Charlotte tells us. “It comes down to how he makes you feel.”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t know how Winston makes me feel yet, other than in the bedroom. And yes, it’s amazing in there, you know, but what about when we’re out of bed? Is it just great sex, or is it more? I’m not sure what it is for me or for him. When I was a teenager, I thought I was in love with him. What if that was just a crush, and now the sex is only lust and we’ve made a huge mistake?”

  My phone dings with a new text message and the relief I feel seeing the words from Winston, that he’s on his way back, is such a relief. It’s like I can finally breathe again without fear squeezing my lungs.

  “What is it?” Charlotte asks.

  “He’s on his way back,” I tell them with a smile, clutching my phone to my chest.

  “Did he mention how it went? If the other guys are okay?” Tessa asks frantically.

  “No, he didn’t, sorry.”

  “Ugh! At least we can grill him when he gets here,” Charlotte says, just as the rumbling of a motorcycle can be heard outside. “Is that him already?” she questions, as all three of us jump up and rush to the front window in the living room to peek out the blinds. It’s too dark to see anything other than a single headlight.

  “I doubt that’s Winston,” I remark as the biker comes closer. “He wouldn’t text while riding.”

  “Then who is it? Roman, maybe?” Tessa asks.

  “No, he said he probably wouldn’t see me until morning, if everything went according to plan,” Charlotte explains.

  The bike comes to a stop in the driveway. The engine cuts off, but the light stays on. In the darkness, it looks like the rider removes his helmet, but I can’t get a look at his face.

  As he comes closer, his face is in the shadows when he reaches up to run his fingers through what appears to be short hair.

  Tessa gasps. “It’s Verek!”

  “Who’s Verek?” I ask at the same time Charlotte says, “Are you sure that’s him, Tess?”

  “Yes!” she exclaims before she hurries over to the front door.

  “Don’t unlock it until we hear his voice!” Charlotte warns her in a hushed whisper.

  Tess rolls her eyes at her and shakes her head. “I’m not stupid enough to let in a stranger.”

  Knuckles rap on the wooden door and then the man says, “Hey, it’s me, Verek. Open up.”

  Tessa looks to Charlotte with her brows raised in question and Charlotte finally nods her head. “Let him in.”

  It takes a second to get the deadbolt and lock all turned to get it open and then Tessa throws herself at the tall, lean man on the other side, hugging him tightly. For a second, his hands raise as if to hug her back before he lowers them again. “You’re okay! Is everyone else?”

  “Yeah, everyone’s fine,” I hear him say, causing me and Charlotte both to let out sighs. “We caught him, we’ve got one of the men who hurt you.”

  That news has Tessa letting him go and taking a step backward. “You did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which one?”

  “The fucker with the dagger tattoo.”

  “Oh,” Tessa mutters as she wraps her arms around herself. “Is he…is he dead?”

  “Not yet,” Verek responds, reaching up to grab his short brown hair in what looks like frustration. “I wanted to, but Roman’s right. We need to get the other names from him first.”

  “I want to see him,” Tessa says.

  “Tess, no!” Charlotte yells. “You don’t need to see that asshole ever again!”

  “I need to face him, and I need to see him die,” Tessa explains to her best friend. “Otherwise…I’m not sure if the nightmares will ever end.”

  “I’ll make sure you’re there, when it’s time,” Verek assures her.

  “You really think Roman will let you do that?” Charlotte asks him when she places herself between the two of them.

  “Yeah, maybe…” he answers just as another motorcycle rumbles up.

  “Who the hell is that?” he asks.

  “Hopefully Winston,” I say when I join them all over at the door.

  “Shit, I didn’t know you were here,” he tells me. “It’s Zoe, right?”

  “Yes, and you’re Verek, right?” I ask, holding my hand out for him to shake.

  “That’s me.”

  “Nice to meet you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure he’s still in one piece,” I say to him as I slip out the door and jog down the steps, over to Winston. He’s still sitting on his bike, having barely had time to turn it off and remove his helmet, when I grab the sides of his face to kiss him.

  I start to melt as soon as I feel the rough scruff of his beard against my face and his hot, wet tongue demanding entry past my lips. By the time Winston cups the back of my head with one hand and pulls me closer, his other palm squeezing my ass, I’m ready to climb on his lap and ride him. Apparently, it’s not just me who wants that. Winston hefts me up with a grunt so I’m straddling his lap on the seat of his bike, his hard bulge pressing into my soft center.

  “Took you long enough,” I whisper against his lips as my arms wind around his neck, meaning the time he was gone and the time it took to pull me on top of him.

  “I was only gone a few hours,” he replies, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip. “Did you miss me?”

  “It feels like it’s been days since you were inside me,” I tell him honestly while grinding on his cock.

  “God, yes,” Winston groans as his palms squeeze my ass and press me down on him harder.

  A deep throat clears, and then Verek says, “We’ll go on in and give you two some privacy.”

  “Verek?” Winston’s mouth leaves mine and he whips his head around to the front of the house. “What are you doing here?” he shouts. “How the fuck did you get this address?”

  “From Roman’s phone when he put it down earlier tonight at the clubhouse,” Verek answers, not sounding the least bit regretful.

  “He’ll kill you if he finds out you’re here,” Winston mutters.

  “I’m staying until Roman gets here.”

  “Your fucking funeral,” Winston warns him.

  “Maybe. Either way, I’m staying. So, you two are free to leave if you want,” the other man informs him.

  “Ah, thanks, man,” Winston says before his mouth finds mine again and I hear the door finally shut. The hands on my bottom tug the fabric of my dress up, and then they’re slipping under the back of my panties to get to my bare ass before his middle finger penetrates me. “Fuck, you’re already wet.”

  “I need you,” I tell him as my hands get to work undoing his jeans. Winston lifts his hips so I can pull the open denim down enough to get his cock out. Wrapping my fingers around it, I give it a few strokes while his pump in and out of me.

  “I need you too, Zoe. But if we do this right now…fuck, I can’t promise you I’ll be able to stop.”

  “Then don’t stop.”

  I want Winston, all of him, and not just this one time. Even though it’s only been a few days, we’ve gone too far to walk away from each other again. So, before he can change his mind, I lift my hips and guide his shaft to my pussy, rubbing his crown back and forth over my panties until Winston pulls his fingers free to tug the fabric to the side so his smooth tip can slide between my soaking wet lips.

  “You sure this is what you want?” he asks, his mouth moving down the side of my neck. I let go of his cock to take him all the way inside of me, but Winston grips my hips to hold me up off him.

  “Yes. I want you. Please,” I moan, and my eyes drift closed when he gives me a few inches before he holds me up again.

  “Z
oe, look at me,” Winston orders. I open my eyes to find his in the darkness, the moonlight dancing in them. “If you leave me again, I will find you and drag your ass back home. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I agree, because I would be crazy to give up this man. I never wanted to leave him in the first place. I consider reminding Winston that he pushed me away. He sent me out into the world because he thought that’s what I wanted. And he’s right. I did want that back then. Now? Now, a few hours away from him is too long.

  Finally, after what feels like he was teasing me forever, Winston slams me down on his cock, filling me up and knocking the air from my lungs. But after that, his grip eases on my hips and he lets me take control.

  I ride him so hard both of us cry out loud enough to probably wake up our parents, but I don’t even care. We’ve waited too long for this moment, to finally be together, bodies joined as one. My orgasm gathers slowly, waiting for Winston to reach his climax with me. Near the end, we’re both pulling each closer, holding on as tight as possible until it finally happens.

  I bury my face in Winston’s neck and tremble all over while he thrusts up into me with a growl, right before his shaft swells and his hot release erupts inside of me. My pussy clenches, pulling him deeper to try and drain every drop of his seed from him.

  It feels so good, better than every other time before, because I know what we just did changed everything. There’s no going back to the way we were before, and I wouldn’t want to, even if I could.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Winston

  * * *

  As I hold Zoe in my arms while we both catch our breath, I wait for the regret to wash over me, but it doesn’t. I don’t think it ever will either.

  I’ve known for years I want Zoe in my life, however I can get her. Now, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her here with me, even if that means putting my kid inside of her. I’m ready to settle down and start a family with her, even though we are already both part of the same family…

  “How did my mom and Martin handle everything after I left?” I ask Zoe as I rub my hands up and down her spine. “Not that I give a shit what they think…”

  “They’re fine,” Zoe says. “Absolutely fine.”

  “They are?” I say in surprise, pulling back to see her face.

  “Yeah. My dad said he wasn’t even all that surprised. They would just prefer that we not have sex around them.”

  “Then I guess I should take you back to my place tonight,” I tell her with a grin, since I don’t plan on sleeping anytime soon and Zoe can get pretty loud.

  “Sure. Let’s go back to your place,” Zoe agrees, biting her bottom lip. “As long as you promise not to kick me out of your bed in the morning.”

  “I promise,” I tell her, cupping her face in my hands. “Never again. If you decide to go to Paris or anywhere else again, I’m going with you.”

  “I think my modeling days are over,” she admits with a sigh. “And I’m okay with that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes,” she answers. “I’m not sure what I’ll do now, but I’ll figure it out.”

  “You can do any fucking thing you want,” I tell her. “As long as you stay here.”

  “Okay,” Zoe says, which isn’t exactly a promise, but it’s a start.

  “You want to hop on behind me so I can get us out of here? We’ll come back in the morning for your things, and to talk to Martin and my mom.”

  “Sure,” she agrees, climbing off the bike to rearrange her dress. I stand up to put my dick away, belatedly remembering the gash in my thigh. “Fuck,” I hiss, zipping up and sitting back down again.

  “Are you okay?” Zoe asks.

  “Yeah, I just have a sore leg. It’s nothing. Climb on up and let’s go home.”

  “Home?” Zoe repeats as she throws her leg over and wraps her arms around my waist.

  “Our home,” I tell her, cranking the engine before she can protest. Letting her leave my apartment ten years ago was the stupidest thing I ever did. I don’t plan on making that mistake again.

  By the time we make the twenty-minute drive to my place, my leg is so sore every tiny movement hurts. It was cold again for a little while, but now it’s burning, as if a hot coal is lodged inside me. I can only hope it’s not getting infected.

  Once Zoe and I are inside the apartment, locked up tight for the night, the exhaustion and blood loss finally hit me. I limp over to the recliner and that’s as far as I can go before I crash.

  Zoe turns on a table lamp and gasps. “Winston!” she exclaims, crouching down to peel back my torn jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “You’ve got blood running down to your shoes!” she protests as she wrestles with my belt buckle, then drags my pants down my legs. “You’ve got a bandana wrapped around your thigh! What the hell happened?”

  “I think a bullet grazed me.”

  “A bullet?” Zoe exclaims, her jaw dropping. She stands up and starts toward the door, then back to me. “We…you…we need to get you to the hospital, and I don’t have a car!”

  “Calm down, baby. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine!”

  “Sure I am. I just need to clean it up and put a bandage on it. Can you grab my first-aid kit? It’s in the bathroom cabinet under the sink.”

  “Bathroom cabinet sink?” Zoe repeats.

  “Yep.”

  She disappears in a rush and then I hear her rummaging around in the cabinet before she quickly returns with the red plastic box in her hand. Tears streak down her cheeks.

  “Oh, baby, don’t cry.”

  “You’re hurt!” she sniffles as she kneels down beside the recliner. Pulling out an alcohol wipe, she dabs it over the wound. There’s an initial sting, but then Zoe says, “I love you and you could’ve died, and I would’ve been so pissed at you!” Her words immediately make me forget the pain.

  I stare down at her in awe as she cleans up the blood, then rubs on antibiotic cream before covering the four or five-inch gash with butterfly closures.

  “Y-you need stiches,” she hiccups.

  “Nah, I just need you,” I tell her, running my fingers through her long hair to brush it back from her damp face.

  “You should’ve told me earlier…when I was sitting on you,” she sniffles again as she glances up at me, her green eyes glistening.

  “It didn’t hurt then,” I assure her. “All I felt was you. Now come up here on my lap so I can hold you.”

  Zoe stands up and hesitates, eyeing my sore leg before she goes around and climbs up on my other side. Cupping the back of her head, I pull her mouth down to mine to kiss her. “I love you.”

  She ducks her head, fisting my leather cut and pressing her face into my chest. Then I feel her tears soaking into my shirt as she whispers, “I love you too. Just…please don’t hurt me.”

  “Never again,” I promise her when I place a kiss on the top of her head.

  And that’s a promise I plan to keep for the rest of my life, no matter what it takes.

  Chapter Twenty

  Zoe

  * * *

  Last night was emotionally exhausting. Winston and I were both so tired we fell asleep in his recliner until the sun came up. I think a small part of me was avoiding his bed because of what happened the last time I was in it. Maybe I thought that if we slept in his bed again, it would jinx us and everything would go to hell.

  Even though I’m nervous about his bedroom, this morning, when Winston groaned as he tried to stretch his leg, I knew he needed to go lay down and get comfortable. I helped him limp to his room, then joined him in bed, both of us naked. But when he tried to get me to climb on top of him, I refused, scared I would hurt him.

  “You’re not gonna hurt me,” Winston assures me.

  “I know I’m not, because I’m not going to fuck you again until your leg stops bleeding.”

  “Fine,” he says with a heavy exhale and
a grin as he pulls me closer to his side.

  “So, what’s the plan for the day?” I ask, running my fingertips up and down his abs with a sense of déjà vu, worried about what happens next for us.

  “I guess we should talk to our parents, tell them they can go back home and that we’re together, right?” Winston asks.

  “Right,” I agree with a smile.

  “And you’re moving back home?”

  “That would make the most sense, I think.”

  “Good. Fuck,” he says with a sigh. Reaching for my hand, he lifts my knuckles to his lips and places a kiss on them, but doesn’t let go. “That’s all I want…you here with me.”

  “But you would prefer if I stopped taking topless photos too?” I tease him.

  He chuckles. “That would be the icing on the cake, yeah.”

  “Then, I guess we’ll see,” I say, not making any promises just yet.

  “And I’ll try and keep an open mind,” Winston agrees. “You ready to face the firing squad?”

  “It’s not going to be that bad. I told you my dad wasn’t even very surprised.”

  “That doesn’t mean he approves,” he mutters. “Either way, I want to get this conversation out of the way. Don’t want Martin thinking I ran off yesterday just because I thought he might shoot me.”

  “No, someone else did that!” I huff. “You have to be careful. I can’t lose you, now that I’m here with you, and happy.”

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he assures me with another kiss on my knuckles. “Now, go get that roll of gauze for me. If you’ll help me wrap my leg up, I’ll take an Aleve or something and we’ll go see our parents.”

  There’s a Harley parked with the other cars when we pull up to the safe house around lunchtime, but it’s not Verek sitting on the porch steps. Instead, it’s a big man with reddish-blond curls.

  As we approach, he gives us a jerk of his chin in greeting. Winston takes my hand, interlacing our fingers before he says, “Roman, this is my girlfriend, Zoe. Zoe, meet Roman, the president of the Savage Kings of Myrtle Beach.”