UnScrew Me (Savage Beast MC Book 1)

by Hayley Faiman

  Reaching over to my boy, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and gently squeeze. He turns to me, his eyes watery. “Boy, we’re going to give her a nice life while we have her,” I grunt.

  “How long is that?” he asks, hope laced in his question.

  My lips twitch. “As long as she’ll have us, Buster,” I admit.

  His mouth turns up into a smile, and I watch as it spreads on his face. “You love her?” he asks.

  I shake my head once, squeezing his neck before I let my hand fall. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves Bud,” I chuckle.

  We let the conversation hang, unfinished, unanswered, but as far as it will get for now. Both of us hop out of the truck and head inside. Buster seems happier, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulder. I hum. He must really like his teacher, more than anyone else he’s ever encountered. He’s never been so worried about losing his relationship the way he is with her.

  I have a feeling if I don’t treat her right, I’ll have to deal with him and he’s going to bust my balls more than anyone else in the world could. I smirk. Yeah, he’s fuckin’ mine all right.

  Chapter Thirteen

  PRESLEY

  What does one wear to a biker party? Going out with Esther, I just kind of threw something together. This time it’s completely different. This time I’m going to be on the arm of a man, my man. This is the most important party I’ve ever been to. It’s not like when he said he would work on my car, this is different.

  We’re a couple, an official couple. Before, I didn’t care about any impression I made on his friends, or clubmates? Whatever they are. Now, things are completely different. I want them to like me. I have a feeling if they don’t, then I’ll be kicked to the curb. He isn’t forty-five and single only to find a woman that his friends hate.

  My stomach flips and I press my palm to it, trying to take a few cleansing breaths. Anxiety fills me at the thought of what is to happen, then I think about the fact that Joel is indeed forty-five and single. He was completely in love with another woman for twenty years. One who didn’t return that love. Feelings like that don’t just disappear, they don’t suddenly die off.

  Doubt creeps into my mind. Is he with me now, solely because he wants someone to help him raise his child, and I’m readily available and stupidly naïve enough to spread my legs over and over again? Sitting down on the edge of my bed, wrapped only in a towel, my brows furrow.

  What is wrong with me? Am I this desperate for a man, for a life, for an adventure? His words and actions, they seem to be genuine, but there’s something niggling at the back of my mind. Is this real? My phone buzzes and I look down, surprised to see my big sister calling me. She never calls me.

  “Are you dead, dying, are you okay?” I ask as my greeting.

  She snorts. “What are you even asking me that for?”

  “You never call me,” I point out.

  There’s a pause and then she sighs. “Kenny is pissing me off. I just needed to get away, talk to my sis.”

  “Patti,” I warn. “What happened?”

  She chuckles. “Just work shit. So tell me, how is your new miniscule town? Do you hate it?”

  I bite my bottom lip, thinking about her question. I contemplate telling her about Joel, about Buster. I don’t though. I decide to focus on my job, talk to her about my students and Benjamin, the dickhead, I have to deal with on occasion. We don’t talk for much longer, she sighs and admits that Kenny has been calling her repeatedly the entire time we’ve been on the phone.

  “He loves you, Patti,” I remind her.

  “I know he does. He just pisses me off sometimes. I’m parked in the Target parking lot three blocks away. I couldn’t go far,” she admits.

  I laugh softly as I hear a knock on my door. Hitching my towel up a bit, I tell her to be good to my brother-in-law. She ends the call, and I toss my phone on my bed as I pad toward the front door. Standing on my toes, I look out of the peephole to see Joel standing on the other side of the door.

  He’s wearing his vest with a tight black t-shirt and his perfectly faded and fitted jeans with black boots. I glance behind him, surprised that Buster isn’t with him. “Cariña, I can hear you breathin’, open the door, yeah?” he calls out with a chuckle.

  I suck in a breath, slowly opening the door a crack, sticking only my head out. “I’m not dressed yet, my sister called,” I explain.

  He frowns, his mouth tipping down, then his eyes meet mine. “Didn’t know you had a sister,” he mutters.

  Joel places his hand on my door, curling it around the side gently pushing it open. He brushes past me, until he’s inside of my home, standing in my living room.

  Closing the door behind him, I lock it and hold the towel a bit tighter as his eyes travel my body. “Sweet towel. It would look better on the floor though,” he smirks.

  Rolling my eyes, I turn from him and begin to walk toward my bedroom. I hear his boot’s heavy footfalls behind me. As much as I want to tell him to wait in the living room, I don’t think that he would listen. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man that would give me space, not if he wasn’t in the mood for that, and right now he doesn’t seem to be in the mood to give me space.

  “Where’s Buster?” I ask, going to my closet and rifling through my clothes in an attempt not only to find something to wear. I’m also trying to distract myself from the fact that Joel is in my room, and I’m only in a towel.

  I feel his heat against my back, his hands wrap around my hips and his lips touch the side of my neck. My entire body freezes at the sensation. I let out a breath, my body trembling beneath his touch.

  “He’s already at the clubhouse. Told him I needed to come and get you. He’s good there for a bit, mi vida,” he rasps his breath fanning my skin.

  “I should get dressed,” I exhale. Joel hums, his hands fisting in the towel at my hips and he roughly tugs it down and off in one quick move.

  He growls, his lips touching my neck again. His tongue slides over my skin as my head falls back against his shoulder. I’m unable to resist him. My body won’t let me, even if my brain screams at me to stop, to ask questions, to demand answers—I can’t. I won’t.

  I gasp when his hands slowly slide around my hips, up my belly and cup both of my breasts. He squeezes my flesh, then pinches both of my nipples, gently tugging on them. I push my ass against his hips, my pussy clenching and searching for his touch as well. He grunts, his mouth still gently sucking my neck.

  “Mierda, Presley,” he grunts, his teeth scraping my skin.

  Lifting one of my arms behind me, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck. I thread my fingers through the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Gripping him, I moan as my eyes slowly slide closed. My center is so wet, it feels incredibly empty, it aches and begs to be filled.

  One of his hands releases a nipple and his fingers gently glide down the center of my stomach, stopping at the mound of my pussy. “Joel,” I breathe.

  His index finger slides through my folds, across my clit then he slowly fills me, grunting when he feels how wet I am. “Always so goddamn wet for me, cariña. Every time I touch you feels like fucking heaven,” he whispers.

  Spreading my thighs a bit wider, I tip my ass back, giving his hand more room. I want to feel all of him touch me, fill me, become part of me. “More, please,” I beg on an exhale.

  His one finger is replaced with two, filling me in one swift move as his palm grinds against my clit. “Give it to you all, mi vida—todo.”

  My hips jerk, my body climbing higher as he curls his fingers, caressing that delicious spot inside of me. “I’m so close,” I sigh. “I want you inside, Joel.” I attempt to demand, however, it comes out more like a plea.

  I hear the clink of his belt, then the whoosh of his deliciously faded jeans before his hands leave my pussy and my breast to wrap around my hips. He yanks me back, filling me at the exact same time in one thrust. I lean forward but have nothing to grab ahold of. Joel’s
hand leaves one of my hips, his arm wrapping around me beneath my breasts, gently pulling my back up to press against his chest.

  “Oh God,” I moan, never having been in this position before and loving how different it feels.

  His beard tickles my neck as he speaks. “Fuck my cock, cariña. Touch that pussy and fuck me. I want to watch you work me.”

  A shiver rolls through me from head to toe. I push back against him, my hand moving toward the middle of my legs. I can feel the way he stretches me, the way he fits so snuggly inside. “Presley,” he snaps.

  Spreading my fingers apart, I slide them around his cock, feeling our connection. Even if this isn’t completely genuine, this relationship between us. Right now, while we’re connected like this, it feels like it is, so real.

  This feels like the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt in my life—it’s right. No matter how wrong, when we’re alone like this—it’s so, so right.

  My fingers find my clit and I swirl the small bud. I moan, pushing back against him, my eyes sliding closed and without another thought, I fuck him. I do exactly as he wants me to do, I fuck his cock, enjoying the way he stretches me, and holds me against him. I can feel the cool leather of his vest against my bare back, and his beard against my neck.

  It’s sensation overload.

  I come on a sob, my entire body shaking beneath Joel’s hands. He holds me for only a moment as my release ebbs, then he fucks me hard and fast until he stills, filling me with his release. We both attempt to catch our breaths, my eyes unable to open as I inhale and exhale, attempting to calm myself.

  “Tonight I’m coming all over this beautiful body, Presley. I’m going to cover your skin, paint you so goddamn pretty with me.” His words are husky as they fill my quiet bedroom.

  Turning my head slightly, I open my eyes and look at him behind me. He looks so dark, looming, and yet his eyes are liquid and satisfied. He’s at peace, calm, and dare I say, happy even. “I can’t wait,” I grin.

  He shakes his head, his hand shifting my hair to over my shoulder. I feel his fingers drag down my spine, stopping at my lower back, just above my ass. “Get dressed. We need to go,” he announces before he slowly slips from my body.

  I frown as he tugs his pants up and I straighten to standing. It doesn’t seem like that’s what he was going to say, but I don’t question him. I still feel like we’re too new for me to ask too much of him, of his thoughts. I can tell that something has shifted in him, from just seconds ago though and that thought worries me. I try to brush it off and start to walk toward the bathroom to clean up.

  “You go to this with me inside of you, cariña,” he announces as he sits down in the chair in the corner of my room.

  I turn to face him, my eyes wide from his words, but when they land on him in my girlie light yellow chair, they’re wide for a different reason. I never thought I would have a man like him, all rough edges and gruffness. Then to see that roughness sitting in my feminine chair, something slithers up my spine and settles deep in my belly, something beautiful. He looks good in my chair, in my room, in me.

  “I should clean up, Buster is going to be there,” I say, wrinkling my nose.

  His eyes darken, darker than I’ve ever seen before. Since they’re already black, that is something spectacular to watch. “Wasn’t a request,” he states.

  His jaw is hard, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches me. I contemplate skipping off to the bathroom to do whatever the hell I want, his feelings on the matter be damned. Sleeping with his cum inside of me is one thing, going to a party, especially where his son will be attending is another. There’s something dark and sinister in his words, in his expression and I have a feeling this is important to him.

  SILVER

  I watch the war waging inside of her head. Should she go and clean up. Should she do what I am demanding of her. If she’s the woman I think she is, the good girl who will abide by her man’s wishes, then she’ll do the right thing.

  Shit like this, it may not be important to her, but it is to me and if she can’t put some of her self-consciousness aside for me, for my wishes, then I don’t know that we’ll work. Harsh? Maybe. However, I’m not known for being fair and gentle.

  She slowly makes her way toward me, her long legs moving closer and my satisfied cock twitching with each sway of her full tits. She surprises the fuck out of me when she sinks down between my wide legs.

  Presley places her hands on my knees and slowly slide them up my legs, my thighs, then places them on my abs. I look down at her, capturing both of her wrists with one of my hands.

  “If you want me inside of you, then that’s where you’ll be,” she breathes.

  I can tell it makes her uncomfortable though. I should care. There will be other things I ask of her that will make her uncomfortable as well. This isn’t the first or the last. I should tell her to clean up, that it’s no big deal, but I don’t. It’s control. She’s mine to control and I’m going to make sure she knows exactly who is in charge, and this will be a reminder for the evening of who will stay in charge.

  “Get dressed, cariña. Something sexy. A skirt,” I murmur.

  “A skirt?”

  She looks adorably confused. Releasing her hand, I cup her cheek, feeling her soft skin beneath my fingertips. “I want to feel my cum inside of you anytime I want. Yeah, a skirt.”

  “Buster,” she breathes.

  Leaning forward, I capture her lips with my own in a swift but gentle kiss. “Will be in bed before any of that happens. You’re his teacher, I would never, not in front of him,” I vow.

  She sucks in a breath, nodding once. I release her hands and watch as she shifts to her feet. I don’t leave the room. I sit in her ridiculously yellow fucking chair and for the first time in my life, I watch a woman get ready to go out with me.

  It’s erotic.

  By the time she’s dressed with her hair done and her makeup on, I’m hard and ready to fuck her again. I don’t. I stand, taking her hand in mine and as gentlemanly as I’m able, I guide her toward my truck. Then I drive us toward the clubhouse. I don’t stop on the side of the road and make her ride me, like I want. I decide all of that can wait until later. I have plans for my cum. I’m painting her with it, all of her. Head to fucking toe.

  Chapter Fourteen

  SILVER

  Cars litter the parking lot of the clubhouse, as I pull my truck into my spot. Once I shift my truck into park, I look down at my woman and grin. She’s tugging her skirt down, but that’s not what has me smiling. She looks like the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.

  She’s wearing a short white skirt with little flowers on it, and a scooped tank that she has tucked into the waist of the skirt. Her tits, her legs, goddamn they all look fantastic. Instead of sky-high heels, like most of the clubwhores wear, she’s got on a pair of tall sandals. I don’t know what they’re called, but they make her calves look fucking great.

  “Are you ready?” she asks, turning her head to face me.

  I lift my gaze from her calves and drag them back up to her face. Giving her a smirk, I open my car door and jump out. Jogging over to her side, I help her out of the passenger seat, sliding my hand up the back of her thigh to grab her ass as she lands on her feet.

  “Joel,” she breathes, tipping her head back to look up at me.

  I grip her ass harder, digging my fingers into her soft flesh. Lowering my head, I brush my lips across hers. We’re in the parking lot so I know that Buster won’t see. Filling her mouth with my tongue, I tug her closer to me, grinding my cock against her lower belly.

  “Cariña, that mouth gets better every time I sink my tongue inside. Magic mouth, magic fuckin’ cunt. How’d I end up with you, huh?” I ask.

  She places her hands on my chest and slowly slides them up, wrapping them around my neck as she keeps her eyes on mine. “I think the same thing, Joel.” Her voice is soft and swear to fuck, I hold my breath as she moves one of her hands. She lifts it toward my face, her f
ingertip sliding across my lips, tracing them. “I’m nervous they won’t like me,” she admits.

  I nip her finger, releasing it quickly. “They will. You already met a few, they liked you just fine. Today is about food, beer, and relaxation. Tonight we’ll have some fun, and I’ll get you drunk, then I’m going to fuck you all night long, mi vida,” I promise.

  “What’s it mean?” she asks

  I was wondering when she would ask me. Lowering my face, I press my lips to the side of her ear. “My life, Presley.”

  Releasing her ass, I wrap my fingers around her hand and tug her toward the party before she can respond to my words. Maybe I shouldn’t tell her how much she means to me, so soon. There’s a lot of shit I probably shouldn’t do to her, especially having her at my side, bringing her to this party. Making her mine.

  The target I’ve placed on her, without her even being aware of what it means to be anywhere near me. Plus, the shit I started with the Skulls, that’s made her a mark and she doesn’t even know how to protect herself. She doesn’t understand this life, what war means, and I’m just selfish enough not to explain it to her if I don’t have to.

  The barbeque is in full swing when we walk to the back of the clubhouse. Picnic tables are all set up, people are piling food on their plates, eating, or milling around and chatting. There are a few kids, but not a bunch.

  Our group is pretty kid-free, except for a couple of us. Buster is the only boy, which makes him think he’s a big fuckin’ deal, and I can’t even say shit, because I was the same way at his age.

  When my eyes land on Savanna, I freeze. My fingers flex in Presley’s hand, but if she notices she doesn’t say anything. Not that I would hear her if she did with the blood roaring in my ears. Savanna turns her head when Trista points over toward us and her eyes skirt past me to Presley.