UnScrew Me (Savage Beast MC Book 1)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Don’t hurt me, Joel. Please, don’t,” I breathe.

  His hands flex against my waist. He doesn’t promise me a damn thing. Not that I really expected him to. It’s actually better that he doesn’t fill me full of false promises and hopes that will be dashed and squashed.

  Joel leans forward, running his nose along the column of my neck stopping at my jaw then traveling back down. He repeats the path again, except using his tongue this time. I let out a long moan, trembling against him.

  “You’ll be safe, cariña. I’ll keep you safe. You’ll be mine. Branded, marked, and wearing my colors. Nobody would dare touch you, not ever again. I made a statement with Karma. If anyone even thinks about touching you, they’ll remember what his face looks like, and they won’t even consider it. It’s time to start your adventure, Presley.”

  His words are soft and gentle, their meaning is not. I already know that this man would maim and kill to protect me, I’ve watched him do just that. However, I don’t want a life where this is a norm. I do not want to get used to any of this.

  “Be brave, Presley,” he rasps.

  I nod, biting the corner of my bottom lip. “I’m going to try,” I whisper.

  His lips twitch beneath his beard and turn up into a smile. “That’s my good girl,” he rumbles.

  Lifting his hand, he wraps his fingers around the back of my neck and pulls me closer to him. His mouth touches mine, his tongue filling me in slow sweeping movements. I completely relax in his hold, melting against him and moaning into his mouth. He swallows the sounds, pulling me even closer to him, and I find myself swallowing his groans.

  We stay like that until our lips are swollen, and we’re attempting to catch our breaths. Resting my forehead against his, I sigh. His hands travel from my waist to my ass and he squeezes me through my jeans. We don’t say anything, we just stay close, enjoying our bodies being close.

  SILVER

  Buster looks between me and Presley, he frowns then a slow smile appears on his lips. “Wow,” he breathes. “Really?” he asks.

  He’s never lived with a woman. It’s always just been him and me. This is going to be a completely different experience for him. I have no doubt that Presley will make this more enjoyable than miserable, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not anxious about it, and I’m sure Buster is feeling the same way.

  Presley gives him a small smile and reaches for his hands. “This doesn’t mean you get a free pass on anything at school,” she says, attempting to be stern. It’s her teacher voice, I’m sure, but it isn’t stern at all. It’s cute and sexy, but it’s definitely not stern.

  “Yes, Miss Gray,” he grins.

  She shakes her head with a sigh. “After school, I’m just Presley. Okay?”

  He knows what he’s doing, the shit. He grins widely and nods. My phone rings and I dig it out of my pocket. Looking at the caller ID, I frown and let Presley and Buster know that I’ll be right back. Heading out front, I swipe my thumb across the screen.

  “Talk to me,” I demand.

  The throat on the other end of the line clears. “First, church tomorrow night to vote on that shit with the Skulls. Second, we got a fuckin’ problem. Our product never arrived for today’s shipment. We got two hundred mattresses that are going out with no product, and our buyers are not going to be fucking happy about that shit.”

  Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair. I grip the strands and tug. “Fuck. Let me call my contact. What’s the latest they can leave to make it on time?”

  Mountain hums. “Wolfe says they need be gone in the next three hours. Four at the absolute latest,” he mutters.

  “Let me call,” I bark before I end the call.

  Closing my eyes for a breath, I go in search of my contact’s name. Once I find it, I press my thumb against it to call. It rings, and rings. I frown. My contact has never not answered me. His life is dependent on this job, on his job. This is what he does. This is his life. A sick feeling slides up my spine.

  Looking at the house behind me, I have to do something that I didn’t want to do on our first night together. I suppose I need to get Presley used to this life, to my life, and her being alone, unfortunately, is going to be a big part of it. I have to leave them, and it’s the absolute last thing I want to do right now.

  Jogging inside, I look at the two of them. Their heads are close together, and they’re murmuring to one another. They both stop, slowly turning their heads toward me. They’re smiling and swear to fuck I feel it in my gut. Then my eyes move over to Presley and I watch her tongue run across her bottom lip, and I feel that fucking shit in my dick.

  “I gotta go out for a bit. You’ll be okay?” I ask, looking between them.

  I watch as Buster loses his smile, his face becoming almost angry, definitely irritated. I wish I could take it away. I wish things were different, but I’m not just a brother, I’m the fucking treasurer. These contacts, they’re mine, and I need to find them.

  “We’ll be okay. We’ll go to the grocery store, get all stocked up for the week,” Presley offers as she stands. She closes the distance between us.

  I wrap my hand around her waist and give her a squeeze. Dipping my chin, I press my lips to hers. “Thanks, cariña,” I whisper against her mouth.

  “Try to come back for dinner?”

  My lips turn up to a smile at just the thought of coming home to my family, to Presley, Buster, and dinner. “I’m gonna try really fuckin’ hard,” I lie, pressing my mouth against her lips. There’s no way I’ll make it back in time for dinner, but admitting it aloud right now, it feels too fucking wrong.

  Touching my mouth to hers, I take a step back. Releasing her, I walk over to Buster and ruffle his hair and head toward the door. Toward my bike. Toward the clubhouse and what awaits me.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  SILVER

  Luckily, the town my contacts are in isn’t too far away. Unfortunately, it’s still five hours one way to get to them. Once I arrive at the clubhouse, I don’t bother going into the bar, instead, I make my way toward the warehouse.

  Brothers are busy loading shit up, and I’m glad that we have the ammo we need, plus the guns for this run. It’s the dope we don’t have and although the guns make a tidy profit, that fucking dope is what keeps us fed and living comfortable.

  “I can’t get ahold of him,” I announce once Mountain walks up to me, and is within hearing distance.

  He frowns, looking at his boots then back up to me. “Thoughts? Skulls?” he asks.

  I shrug. “They’re in Antelope Wells, New Mexico. They’re out in the middle of fucking nowhere and just a few miles from the border,” I explain. “Their service is sometimes spotty, but he’s not responding to texts or anything at this point. It’s been thirty minutes, this isn’t like him. You think after that meeting we had that the Skulls would risk it all?”

  Mountain shrugs. “I’ve seen weirder shit,” he mutters. “Karma looked pretty fucking sincere about it all though.”

  I nod in agreement. I didn’t get any bullshit vibes from him either. That doesn’t erase the fact that he took my woman, forced his dick down her throat, and made her bare herself for a whole group of men. I haven’t forgiven, nor have I forgotten what he did. In fact, I’m still pretty fucking pissed. I know what this world is like though, and to a degree, I understand his reasoning. She isn’t branded, she isn’t publicly claimed, she was just a chick in town I was fuckin’ to him.

  “You up for a ride?” I ask.

  He groans, glancing back at the truck, and then to me. “Yeah, let’s bring reinforcements, just in case,” he suggests.

  I lift my chin in agreement and head out of the warehouse and toward the bar. I need a fuckin’ shot before I do this shit. I debate calling or texting Presley to let her know the truth, that I won’t make it back in time for dinner. I’m holding the phone in my hand when someone bumps it.

  Looking down, I see Esther. “Is she okay?” she asks.

&
nbsp; Frowning down at the woman, I sigh. “She will be,” I grunt.

  Esther nods. “I’m not going back to teaching,” she whispers. I don’t know why she’s telling me this, but I wait her out. Her gaze shifts over my shoulder and a small smile appears on her lips. “I just wanted to tell you, because you know Benjamin has a thing for Presley and he gives me a really bad feeling. Tell her to be careful, okay?”

  She reaches out, wrapping her hand around my forearm. My brows furrow and I open my mouth to ask her about this feeling, what she knows from experience, and how careful, is careful. The way my gut twists I already know what I want to do. I’m going to put a man on her. I don’t know who yet, but I’m not risking her safety again, especially since I may not be around for the next few days.

  Mamba passes by me and Esther drops my arm. She stiffens, and her eyes widen a touch before she relaxes.

  “You ready, babe?” he asks.

  I watch as his hand wraps around her waist and something shifts in her face. It isn’t what I expect though. What I expected was what I imagine I look like when Presley touches me, euphoria or happiness, lust—something. No, the look she’s sporting is one step above a cringe. In fact, she looks like she’s about to be sick.

  “Yeah, let’s go. Is Wolfe waiting?” she asks, and it sounds almost pleading.

  Fuck.

  This poor girl.

  Sacrificing what I assume she wants, which is a relationship with Wolfe, so that she can have whatever piece he’s willing to give her, which at this point looks like sharing her with Mamba. My gut twists again, but this time it’s because I can empathize with her.

  I was once a man willing to do almost the same thing. There were so many times that I almost caved and took Savanna to bed. Fucked her, and took whatever piece of herself she was willing to give, even knowing that I would always have to share her with Hawk.

  “Nah, babe. He’s going with Silver on a run. Let’s get up to my room, I have a taste for you,” he grunts.

  The light in her eyes dim, but she smiles brightly as she turns her face up to his. “Okay, baby,” she coos.

  Mamba lifts his hand, flicking his fingers out as he turns her around and together they walk toward his room. I watch her go, wondering how much longer they’ll be able to go on like this, how much longer she’ll be able to go on like this. Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair.

  Never have I given a fuck about my brothers’ relationships. Esther, Mamba, and Wolfe, though? I fucking care, and probably because I’ve found Presley. I’m sure that’s the reason. Shaking my head again, I turn and head outside.

  “We ready?” I ask the men gathered around in a circle.

  Wolfe, Jaguar, Mountain, and Taz lift their chins. “Dragon is staying here, along with prospects and the rest of the brothers,” Mountain announces.

  I nod, “Sounds good. We don’t want too much presence, but we need some,” I mumble. Then an idea pops into my head. “What if we grabbed a couple Skulls? Let’s see if they were involved or not, might as well have them there, too.”

  Mountain chuckles. “Fuck. That’s gold, Silver. Yeah, let’s see what they’re about. We’ll know the second everyone is face-to-face,” he grumbles.

  Less than an hour later, the five of us are headed toward Quemado, toward the Skulls’ clubhouse. An hour after that, three Skulls join us and we’re on our five-hour trek toward the border. To their credit, none of the Skulls acted fishy when we mentioned what had happened.

  We told them this was their first trial run as patched over, or affiliate brothers. We aren’t sure exactly what’s going to happen yet. It was only a partial lie, but a necessary one. My stomach continues to twist, and I can’t help but think of Esther’s words, of her warning.

  Fuck. Something is coming. Either to me, or her, somewhere. Something is fucking coming. I can practically taste the goddamn doom.

  PRESLEY

  “That’s not how you bake cookies,” Buster announces.

  I look between the face-down chocolate chip bag, and all of my ingredients, then up to him. “It’s not?”

  He shakes his head. “You cut it from a tube,” he announces.

  I can’t hold in the giggle. “Is that how your dad makes them?” I ask.

  His eyes darken a touch and he looks so much like Joel it’s almost startling. “He doesn’t cook or bake. That’s how Trista and Savanna make them,” he announces.

  Just hearing the name Savanna sends a chill up my spine. I want to hate her so, so badly. However, I don’t know her well enough to really hate her. So, instead of making some kind of smart-assed remark, like I want to, I smile.

  “Well, this is how you make them from scratch. It’s really the best way,” I continue to smile.

  He hums and leans over the counter watching every move I make. He doesn’t ask me any questions, he just observes. Acting very much like his father. I start to ask him little questions, things about his likes and dislikes. I ask him when his birthday is, and Joel’s. I tuck those dates away for the future, Buster’s isn’t too far away and I have a feeling he hasn’t ever had a homemade cake before, either.

  Once the dough is all ready to bake, I glance at the clock to check the time. Frowning, I wonder when Joel is going to be back, it’s growing dark and getting closer toward dinner time.

  “He won’t be home tonight,” Buster announces. My head twists around and I frown at him. “Dad. He won’t be home tonight,” he shrugs.

  “He said he would try,” I point out.

  Buster laughs, it’s not a cute little boy giggle, instead it’s full of too much maturity and knowledge for a boy his age. “He says that a lot,” he shrugs. “We’re still having that chicken, right? It sounded good to me.”

  I try to wipe the sadness from my eyes as I look back over to him. Plastering on a fake smile, I nod. “Yes, chicken, rice, veggies, bread, and cookies with milk for dessert,” I say a little too chipper.

  He gives me a fake toothy grin and that is exactly how we spend our evening together. When eight o’clock rolls around, dinner is cleaned up and dishes are washed. Buster is tucked into bed, and I’m alone, only then do I drop my fake façade.

  Walking into Joel’s bedroom, I look around. My suitcase is leaning against the wall, my purse is on the bed along with my car keys for tomorrow morning since I drove my car here this afternoon, and went to the store. I’m alone. Completely and totally alone in a strange house.

  I sink down on the edge of the bed, wondering again, why in the fuck I keep falling for this man’s words. Why do I keep believing a damn word he says? Why do I keep throwing myself at him only to be let down.

  He doesn’t want a family, he wants a woman to take care of his son. A good woman. He’s said it to me, and then he added some bullshit about wanting me for himself too, but his actions? They scream he wanted a goddamn babysitter.

  “Why am I a glutton for punishment with this man?” I whisper to myself. “Why?”

  Picking up my phone, I hold it in my hand and flip it over. There are no new notifications. There are no missed calls. Nothing. Biting my bottom lip, I debate calling my sister. Shaking my head, I let out a breath. My phone starts to dance in my hand and I gasp at the name.

  “Hello?” I answer, trying not to sound like I’m crying.

  A throat clears, then his voice comes over the line. “I meant to call earlier. What is going on is bigger than I’d planned. I’m going to be gone at least until tomorrow evening,” Joel explains.

  “It’s fine,” I sigh.

  He chuckles. “It’s not fine, mi vida. It’s work, and it’s shit timing. I don’t want you driving that beater car of yours though. I got a ride in the garage you can take. Keys are hanging by the back door,” he explains.

  “What?” I breathe.

  He hums. “That car goes to the scrap yard the second I roll back into town. I should have already taken care of that shit, meant to, but fuck if it ain’t one thing it’s fifteen,” he
groans.

  He’s right in that it’s been pretty hectic the past couple of weeks. “I can’t really afford a new car right now, Joel,” I inform him.

  I can almost see him shaking his head, and running his fingers through his hair at my words. “Cariña,” he says softly. “You won’t have rent anymore. You’ll live with me and Bust. You also won’t make car payments. What you do with your money is your business. I take care of the house and cars,” he explains.

  “That’s too much,” I remark.

  “Goddamn, I want to be there right now. Eat that cunt, and fuck you, you’re so goddamn sweet. Any other bitch would be browsing new cars to choose from,” he laughs. “It ain’t too much. You’re my woman, it’s my job to take care of you.”

  I open my mouth to offer some sort of rebuttal, but he cuts me off. “Now, be a good girl. Take my ride in the garage. Then, think about what you want. Call your landlord too, yeah? You in a lease?” he asks.

  “Umm, it was only six months. I’ll be out of it in a couple months,” I answer, unsure of how to respond to the rest of his words. I didn’t plan on this. I thought this was going to be more of an ease into the situation thing. Apparently, it’s happening now. Right now.

  “Good. See how much to buy him outta that. When I get home, new ride and we move your shit to my place. Odds are we’re going to need to outfit my house. What I have was hand-me-down, mainly because I don’t give much of a fuck. You’ll want to decorate, make it a home,” he rambles.

  “Joel,” I say softly.

  “Mi vida. You’re mine. Here to stay. Now say, yes, and tell me what I wanna hear. I gotta go handle some shit.”

  His words send my heart to my throat. “You have to handle shit?” I ask.

  “Tell me what I wanna hear, cariña,” he growls.

  “I’ll be good. I’ll take your car,” I say.

  He makes a tsking sound. “Not what I want,” he chuckles.