by Evie Monroe
I’d been sure to restock after the last time. I reached for my wallet, pulled it out, and waved it in front of her as she shimmied out of her shorts. She laid them down on the bench and stood there, a little unsure as I ripped the condom package open and rolled it on.
I motioned her forward. “I’m going to get splinters, aren’t I?” she said.
“Yeah. I’ve probably already got a few in my ass,” I said. “But it’ll be worth it. Get up here.”
She took a step closer. I reached down and lifted her up, so she was straddling my lap. She knelt on the table on either side of me, her arms wrapped around my shoulder, her breath mingling with mine. She grabbed my cock underneath her and aimed it at her entrance.
Eye to eye, she slowly lowered herself down onto me. I let my hands fall down to her ass, grabbing the cheeks thinking how fucking perfect she fit me.
She started to grind on me, slowly, not up and down, but back and forth, rubbing herself on me and letting out little moans of pleasure. Slow, so agonizingly slow. She let out a sexy little whimper and her mouth dropped to my ear. “This okay?”
Like she had to ask? She was using me to get off. I felt her trembling, getting close. It fed my own lust, drawing me even closer. “Fuck yes. Keep going.”
I reached up under her tank top and cupped her tits. They were perfect. Just two handfuls, the nipples already hard for me. “You feel so good,” she whispered to me, her nose bumping against my ear. I dug my teeth into her shoulder. Her skin was so fucking sweet.
I wasn’t going to last.
“Take it easy,” I murmured, more for myself than for her, as she’d been moving more and more furiously, and I wanted to enjoy the ride a little longer.
She didn’t listen. Lost in whatever trance she was in, she kept going, moving on me in a wild rhythm, feeling so fucking good. Her insides were so wet, so slick, so fucking heavenly, I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt this good. I growled as I thrust myself upward, gripping her hips and pulling her up, then jamming her back down onto me as I went off.
She shuddered, let out a little scream, and exploded a second later, falling, limp and boneless, on my chest. I let her spread herself out on me, with my cock inside her, just feeling the bones of her spine in the quiet of the night.
As I held her, feeling her heartbeat against mine, I decided I’d destroy every single one of the Fury with my bare hands before I’d let them ever harm this sexy lady.
Chapter Twenty
Charlotte
I left the Green Grove Park floating on air.
Even know the Fury might have eyes on us, Hart didn’t let me walk home alone in the dark. Despite the few minutes’ walk, he insisted on following behind me at a safe distance.
I stepped lightly, almost joyfully out of the park, feeling something inside me I’d never known before. And my cunt still throbbed like it had never throbbed before. Like I still had his fat cock in there, filling me up. Making me come. I shivered, and not from the chilly air. My heart felt like it had grown wings, the way it fluttered in my chest. I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder at Hart and smiling like a goofy cartoon character.
When we got to the sidewalk outside my apartment complex, he revved his bike and tore off, giving me a little bit of a wave.
God, he was such a sexy beast. It made me warm inside, thinking of what we’d done.
When I reached our parking spaces in the lot, I saw Jojo’s bike parked next to mine. I checked my phone. Eleven-fifteen. And he was probably wondering where the hell I was.
I climbed the stairs to the apartment, and sure enough, the light glowed from inside. When I put my key in the door, I heard the dogs barking, and expected I’d come in to find that Jojo had gone off to his room. But to my surprise, I found splayed out on the living room sofa, a half-empty bag of Doritos on his lap, watching television.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he said back, turning a glazed eye toward me. “You weren’t at work. I thought they might have called you in.”
“No. Wishful thinking. They cut my hours anymore, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
He sat up. “So where were you?” He squinted at me. “And why are you smiling like that?”
I quickly ripped the smile off my face. “I just . . . went for a walk.”
“Riiight.” I could tell he didn’t believe me for one second, but at least he didn’t say what I knew was on his mind.
Instead, he said, “I just think that if you’re going to get on me about where I am, it should work both ways.”
I considered that for a quick minute. “Yeah. I guess. You’re right. I didn’t realize I’d be this late.”
He leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “You’re grounded.”
I ripped a pillow from the sofa and tossed it at his head. He grabbed it and threw it back. The animals had a field day with us. Apparently deciding it was playtime, they all started to yelp.
Thinking of what Hart had said, I got up from the floor where Ernie had bounded on top of me and claimed the other end of the couch. “Am I really that big of a pain in the ass?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Let me think. Yes.”
That wounded me. After everything I’d done, I’d hoped he’d eventually come to be thankful for all of it. “Really?”
He cocked his head at me. “Really.”
I bit my lip and took my punishment. “Okay, okay. I guess I deserve that. I know I’ve always been a little overprotective of you.”
He groaned at the animals as they understood his trials and tribulations with his big sister. “A little?”
I went to smack him again, but this time he held up a pillow, so I wound up hitting that again. “All right. A lot. But I had my reasons. Foster care wasn’t rainbows and sunshine. You know that. I wanted to protect you from that and the crappy foster parents we had. I wanted you to do great things. But I guess I failed you. I probably pushed you too hard.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t fail me. I was a rebel child.” He chuckled a little, like he was trying on that label for size.
“Yeah. Because I kept pushing you to do good things. You rebelled.”
“Maybe. But you were right. I realize that now. I was an ass. I probably should’ve listened to you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Ya think?”
“Yeah, even the motorcycle clubs. I thought it’d be cool to be a badass and ride around on a big ass hog and have everyone quake in their boots when I rode into town like some big shit cowboy.” He scoffed and added, “But I didn’t want this bullshit. I didn’t realize this would happen. I didn’t know it would be a matter of life and death.”
Tears came to my eyes, and my heart broke for him. He looked every bit the scared little kid, abandoned by his parents, beaten by his foster dad, and let down by every person who was supposed to look out for him. “Were you with the Fury, just now?”
He hung his head. “Yeah. They’re bad dudes, Char. I thought it could get better once I wasn’t a prospect and became a full member. But now I don’t think it will. Scar—”
“Scar? Is he a Fury guy?”
“Yeah. He’s . . . when I was there today, he told me they’re testing me. And I have to do everything exactly as they say, or it’s the end of the line for me.”
I gasped. “What does that mean?”
Elbows on his knees, he pulled at his hair. “I don’t know. He just said that if I didn’t come the second I was called, they’d fuck me up and make it so I couldn’t walk again, or worse. That’s what they say to their members. They’re supposed to be like a brotherhood, but they aren’t. I’d hate to be their enemy.”
“You know Hart said the Cobras would protect us.”
“Yeah. I think Hart’s a good man.” He swallowed. “But I don’t know how he’d feel if I told him . . . if I said . . .”
I leaned forward. “If you said what, Jojo?”
He let out a long breath and wiped his eyes, though I didn’t
see any tears there. “I’m done, Char. I want to tell them I’m done. All of them. I don’t want any part of this. I don’t want to join any club.”
“Oh.” It sucked to see him come to reason now, when it felt like it was too late. There had to be some way out. “Hart would understand.”
“You really think so?”
I thought of Hart, and what he’d said to me. Now I believed that he truly cared about my little brother. Not just as a buddy, either—he probably thought of Jojo as the little brother he never had. I got the feeling that whatever Jojo wanted, he’d go along with it, as long as it would keep him safe.
“Yeah. I do. And I don’t think he’d turn his back on us if you said you didn’t want to join the Cobras, either. He’d help us. He says he can hide us away—they’ve hidden other people the Fury are after. The Cobras have kept them safe.”
He gave me a doubtful look. “All right. Then that’s what I want to do.”
I sat down next to him, throwing my arm around him like I used to when he was younger. “We could move, too. Maybe not right away, because it’s too dangerous. But in a few months, when the Fury stops looking for us.”
I could tell he doubted it. “I know, I don’t have any money. But I have a couple hundred saved up for emergencies. Once we know they’re not looking for us anymore, we can just head out in my car and not stop until the gas runs out.”
His face got all cloudy with worry and he protested my idea. “The Fury would probably find us. That’s what Hart said.”
“Not if we lay low for a little while under their protection first,” I said brightly, squeezing him to me. “Remember when you and I were with the Mosely’s?”
He looked at his knees and shrugged.
Of course he did. The Mosely’s seemed too good to be true. They were religious people who lived in a mansion overlooking the bay. Mrs. Mosely was a fragile but sophisticated looking woman who worked as a lawyer, and Mr. Mosely, a handsome, geeky, mechanical engineer, had thick blond hair, and glasses and a smile as wide as the ocean. They had wealth and everything that came with it—except, they said, the blessing of children. They wanted to adopt as many children as possible. The day they drove us home, they talked about how they had a passion for travel and liked to go places almost every weekend. They asked if we’d mind that.
Mind that? We’d told them we’d love it, since we’d never been anywhere before, not even across state lines.
That first night, I remember looking at Jojo in awe. He had his own big bedroom, filled with model airplanes, Legos and Star Wars figures. Everything a kid his age would want. I was young and naïve, only fifteen, then.
It was maybe two months later that I woke up in that big, four-poster bed, and found Mr. Mosely naked next to me, with his hand in my panties. When I asked him what he was doing, he covered my mouth with his hand, climbed on top of me, and raped me.
I did all I could these days, not to think of that. How Mr. Mosely raped me every day for a month until I grew the balls and threatened to tell his wife. The next day, we were back in the foster system again. Jojo never understood it; thought he did something wrong, and I never told him.
But we had been on several day trips, before things turned bad. And that was what I wanted Jojo to concentrate on.
He nodded. “Barely. I was what . . . eight? Nine?”
“Yes. But you have to remember Santa Cruz. Right? The pier? I never saw you smile as much as you did that day. On that ride. You know, the one that goes all around?”
He laughed a little. “Yeah. You told me you were going to puke.”
“Well, yeah. It was awful! The human body isn’t meant to fall in little box like that.”
“Maybe. But it was fun.”
“Yeah. And I remember what you said to us all as we drove home. That when you were old enough you were going to live on that pier. You were going to live so that the first thing you could see every morning when you came out of your bedroom was the sand, and the Pacific, and the sea, and that pier.”
Now, he was grinning. “Well. Yeah. I guess. I was stupid.”
“No, that’s not stupid! Let’s do it! Even if we have to live in our car.”
“With the animals?”
“I’ll give them to Barb to watch over for us, just until we get settled. We can do it. You know we can. And Santa Cruz is big enough that we can probably get lost there and no one would find us.”
He drummed his hands on his thighs, thinking. “Well . . . what about you and Hart?”
It would be hard, leaving Hart. He was the first guy I’d known who made me feel like there was such a thing as love. But I had to prioritize. “You know you come first. Always.”
I hugged him close and put a big, wet, sloppy kiss on the unshaven whiskers of whatever beard he was trying to grow. He wiped at it and made a grossed-out face. “All right. All right. Then it’s a go. Let’s do it.”
“Yeah? Are you really sure, Jojo?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Let’s blow this joint.”
I reached over to hug him, ruffling his hair like I used to when he was little. He groaned and protested, but I could tell he was happy, too.
When I sat up and I saw the mess of my apartment, the shit became real. I had to make lists, make a plan. Figure out everything I’d need to do before we went into hiding. I’d have to give notice at work. Ask Barb if she could watch the animals. Sell all the furniture. Hell on wheels, actually, for the next couple months. But so easy, really, I thought, compared to the horror waiting for us if we didn’t go.
I felt like I could breathe easier now. Even Jojo, smiling for the first time in days, seemed as if a big weight had lifted off of him.
This would be great. It was the right decision. The only decision.
Hart would get over it. Me? I didn’t think I’d ever forget him. Already he’d etched a place inside me no other man ever had. But I’d have to move on. For Jojo.
As I started to get up, Jojo’s phone buzzed in his pocket. I checked the time on my phone. Who the hell was calling him after eleven thirty?
When he checked his screen and his face turned pale with dread, I knew. “Who is it?” I asked as he stared at the display. “That Scar character?”
He nodded.
“Don’t answer!” I warned him. “You don’t have to answer.”
“I do. If I don’t, they’ll come after us,” he said, swallowing so hard, his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He lifted the phone to his ear as I cringed. “Yeah?”
His voice sounded tough, but his other hand was shaking in his lap. I tried to grab it but he tensed and got up to pace as listened to a voice so loud, I could hear it roaring through the phone, though I couldn’t make out the individual words.
“Yeah,” he said after a minute. “I’ll be there.”
My stomach dropped down to my feet. Fuck.
He ended the call and threw his phone down on the coffee table as if it were crawling with bugs. “Fuck,” he muttered, staring at the phone with contempt. He echoed my thoughts.
“They want you to meet them?” I asked.
He threw up his hands, his version of a disgusted yes.
“But you were just with them.”
“They’re testing me. To see how high I’ll jump and how far.”
“And so you have to go,” I said. I didn’t see any way out of it. Until we left town, he needed to do exactly what they said.
He looked up at me with pleading eyes, every bit that little boy who used to beg to go with me whenever the system would separate us into different foster homes. I still had to be the strong one, so I held back the tears.
“You’ll be all right. Okay, Jojo?” This time he didn’t object to the nickname. “Just do what they say, and in another week, another couple of days, you won’t have to answer to them anymore. Trust me, Jojo. I promise you; it’ll be okay.”
I’d never lied to him before. When he’d go to another foster family who didn’t want siblings, I always told h
im I’d come back to get him. And I fulfilled that promise. I was determined to deliver on this one, too. He must have been thinking that, too, because in the next few seconds, he drew in a breath and his face transformed. He stuck out his chin. “Yeah. All right.”
He got up, pocketed his phone, and said, “I’ll see you in a while, Char.”
“Text me if you need me, okay?”
He gave me a brave thumbs up. Then he opened the door and stepped out into the night.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hart
I noticed Jojo’s bike parked outside the apartment complex as I left Charlie there. Good. The kid was home. All was well.
But for how long?
I pulled off at a gas station to fill up, and texted Cullen: Need to talk.
When I replaced the gas nozzle, I checked my phone, and he’d already responded. Come over. I’m home.
I jumped on my bike and headed toward the ocean, where Cullen lived in his multi-million dollar mansion. I pulled into his long driveway, climbed the stairs, and rang the doorbell. A moment later, Grace answered, giving me the stink-eye through a mess of blonde hair.
“Sorry. Were you sleeping?” I asked her.
“No, but Ella is.” She paused to listen for a moment. I heard the faint sound of a baby crying.
“Or was,” she said arching her neck. “Didn’t Cullen tell you not to ring the doorbell?”
I shook my head as she pushed the door open, let me inside, then rolled her eyes.
Before she jogged up the sweeping foyer staircase, she said, “Figures. Sorry I can’t be more hospitable, Hart, but I’m surviving on three hours of sleep a night. Ella might be an alien. I swear, she sleeps less than an hour a day.”
“That sucks. You should get Cullen to do some of the heavy lifting.”
“He does. But Ella drives us both insane.” She reached the top of the landing and motioned down the hall. “He’s in the theater.”
I thanked her and headed down the massive marbled foyer to a narrower hallway decorated with electric guitars that Cullen’s father, a famous rock guitarist, had played. Just this tiny section of the house was priceless. Cullen lived a bit of a charmed life in this rock-star home of his.
