Vicious Rebel (82 Street Vandals)

by Heather Long

  The first orgasm startled me, and I screamed against his mouth. He slowed only to power me through it as I spasmed around him, and then he picked up the pace, not once letting up on the kiss.

  My lips were going to be bruised. My face would be burned. My cunt was already raring up for round two when round one hadn’t even ceased.

  “More?” he asked in between brutal kisses, and I pulled at my wrists. He released me in a second, and I dug my nails into his back.

  “More.”

  “Oh fuck yes, Swan, more.” I swore he made me come twice more before he let himself go. The shattering sensation as he stiffened against me and the hot flood of his release were perfect. We clung to each other, and I cradled him as he collapsed. His muscles shook and trembled in tandem with mine.

  With a kiss to my shoulder, he eased himself upward and then kissed me again. I shivered as he pulled out, and I swore my cunt was already crying for more.

  I clenched around the emptiness, wanting him back.

  “One second,” he whispered as he walked through a door to a bathroom. A minute and one toilet flush later, he came out and held up a hand. “One more minute.”

  I chuckled, because the firelight did wonderful things for his ass shifting and clenching as he moved. He wasn’t downstairs long before he returned, this time with two beers in hand.

  At my raised brows, he said, “I asked for a favor, and they delivered them. There’s food down there too, but I’ll get that for us in a bit.”

  “You ordered dinner?”

  I sat up slowly—holy crap, I was shaking—and held out my hand to take the open beer bottle he handed me.

  “It’s a date, Swan. I even got you a big fat piece of chocolate espresso cake.”

  I stared at him.

  “My dessert is right there,” he murmured, pointing to me. “I suppose I can eat you out again now, yes?”

  He took way too much delight in grinning at me as I forgot English for a second.

  “I’m going to take that expression as a compliment to my prowess and not your lust for chocolate espresso cake.”

  Laughing, I dragged myself into sitting in a cross-legged position. He leaked out of me, and I swore for a moment, he just stared at my cunt, licking his lips.

  Fuck me. “Definitely your prowess.”

  “Finish that beer, sweetheart. I’m really fucking hungry all of a sudden.”

  When I shot-gunned the damn thing, his grin turned positively sinful. Two seconds after he took the empty bottle from my fingers, he had me flat on my back with my legs over his shoulder and his face buried in my cunt.

  The next orgasm took him time to get there, but he fucking knew how to apply himself and that tongue of his could curl on the inward thrust to stroke me in ways I didn’t know were possible.

  At some point, we took a break for food and another beer. I might even have napped, but it wasn’t for long, and then he filled me with his cock again and I came crying and screaming.

  While he hadn’t let me suck him off yet, he promised that he would, on our next date. In between bouts of sex and sleep, he told me a little about his childhood and the group home and the friends who became his brothers—the Vandals.

  It twisted my heart into all kinds of knots. I told him a little about growing up, not a lot. I’d been working since I was eight, and when he complained about that, I told him that life on the road was so much better than life at home. I swore for a moment, he looked like he would press me for more, and then he said, “Yeah, homes don’t always mean happy.”

  And I think that made me want to cry. Eventually, we slept. Or I did. I wasn’t sure Jasper did at all. He woke me so early, it wasn’t even light outside. At my grumbling, he teased me out of the bed and carried me into the bathroom, where we took a shower and he fucked me right against the tile until I was wide awake and aching.

  I hated having to leave the place so early, but Jasper couldn’t take more than the night away. As it was, he said the guys were probably gonna be pissed at him for disappearing with me all night.

  “Should we call them?”

  “Nope,” he said once we were back on the road. “We still have a couple of hours of it just being us, and I’m going to be selfish and take it.”

  The drive back, we talked about the different jobs he’d had. He also, apparently, knew how to drive a big rig and he had a degree in accounting and business.

  I must have looked surprised, and that made me feel like an ass when he said, “What, didn’t expect more from this pretty face?”

  “No,” I said, then winced and he laughed. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know, most people don’t look at me and see a businessman. But we have to make money, and making money in business is a lot about who you know to begin with, but it’s also about mining opportunities.”

  That was far too close to something Uncle Bradley had told me once, but I shut out that little voice and stuck a gag in it. Jasper was not Uncle Bradley. Also, Jasper’s stories about punk-ass bitches—his words not mine—that he went to the local community college with and then later in the online courses he took at the state university to finish his bachelor’s degree entertained me.

  “How can you know they were ‘punk-ass bitches,’” I asked, using air quotes, “if you were in an online class with them?”

  “They posted snotty.”

  I snorted, but he gave me an unrepentant smirk.

  We grabbed fresh coffees, and I talked Jasper into getting donuts for the guys as a peace offering before we pulled up to the warehouse. It was still early. We’d made way better time on the way back than we had on the way out. A part of me debated calling Lainey. Of all the people who didn’t know where I was, she was the one I wouldn’t mind knowing. If only to tell her that I was all right.

  I’d talk to the guys about it later. They were the ones worried about someone else coming after me, and I was more worried about Uncle Bradley finding me. Inside, it was quiet. There weren’t even any rats around.

  Jasper frowned as he scanned the empty area. The trucks were both gone, but he didn’t look bothered by that.

  “Maybe they aren’t here because the guys are?” I suggested, and he flicked a look at me, then smiled.

  “Probably. They have work to do too, and we don’t need guards all the time…” Still, despite the easy expression he wore, his eyes remained cooler, more assessing. “Do you mind carrying the donuts?”

  He had them, but I had a feeling he wanted his hands free. Sucking in a deep breath, I said, “Want me to wait here?”

  One shake of his head. “It’s not that bad.” At my raised brows, he sighed. “I promise. I just prefer three being on duty all the time. The others think I’m paranoid. So probably just a way to fuck with me, but carry the donuts and let me go in first?”

  I nodded. His swift smile and gentle kiss went a long way as a thank you. Then he took point.

  The door was unlocked, but it always was. He didn’t make any discouraging sounds, so I followed right behind him. Jasper didn’t even make it to the living room area before a blur with dark hair slammed into him. His coffee went flying, and he went down in a wild furry of pounding fists.

  I froze. Jasper was already coming up swinging and I started forward, but an arm looped around me. “Don’t, Dove,” Vaughn said, his voice strained. That was when it hit me—everyone was here. Kellan gave me a pained look, and he sported fresh bruises on the side of his face. Freddie stood a couple of feet behind him, fidgeting miserably. Rome and Liam were like silent sentinels near the kitchen.

  Rome flicked his gaze from me to the fighters, but Liam never took his eyes off them.

  Who the fuck…

  “Let go,” I said as Jasper and his assailant broke apart. Blood poured from Jasper’s nose and from a cut on his face. “Stop it!”

  The man beating on him froze and cut a look at me. His chest rose and fell as he panted. His hair was cropped close, and there was a shadow of stubble o
n his cheeks. He had tats running up both his arms, and his knuckles were bloody and broken.

  Everything about this guy screamed threat. Jasper raised a hand. “I—” He didn’t get more than that out before the guy lunged forward and slammed his fist into Jasper’s face.

  I dropped the donuts and slid out of Vaughn’s arms. I didn’t know why no one was stopping this, but I got right in front of Jasper. If the guy wanted to hit him again, he’d have to hit me.

  “Sparrow—”

  “Starling—”

  “Little Bit, don’t…”

  “Boo-Boo!”

  “I don’t know who you are,” I said, glaring up at the guy towering over me. “And I don’t care. Leave him the fuck alone.” I didn’t know when Jasper stuck that knife in my pocket, maybe he’d done it outside, but the weight of it was there and I pulled it out, flicking the blade open.

  No one moved, not the bruiser, not the guys, no one.

  “It’s okay, Emersyn,” Jasper said from behind me. “He has a right.”

  “The fuck he does.”

  But I didn’t dare look at Jasper. The guy staring at me blinked slowly. “Ivy,” he whispered, in a tone so raw and broken, it didn’t quite sound human.

  “What?”

  “Little Bit,” Doc said slowly as he moved toward us. “This is Raptor.” They’d mentioned him. Great, so Raptor was an asshole. Good to know. “Your brother.”

  What?

  Emersyn and the Vandals will return in Ruthless Traitor.

  To keep up with Heather and all her series join her reader’s group:

  Https://www.facebook.com/groups/HeathersPack/

  Ruthless Traitor

  At the heart of it all was a secret and a lie.

  A secret we didn’t tell her.

  A lie we told ourselves.

  Emersyn Sharpe is more than just the girl we watched over. She’s very much the woman who fits us.

  The last thing we should have done was take her and the worst thing we did was keep her, but she needs us. I think, more than one of us—myself included—needs her.

  The secret wasn’t ours to share and the lie?

  I bought into the lie that keeping her was saving her. The lie that persuading her to trust us was needed. The lie that falling in love with her was as natural as breathing.

  It didn’t matter if I wasn’t alone in falling into this trap. It mattered that when the trap closed, it put her on one side and us on the other.

  Damn and we were so close too…

  My name is Vaughn Westbrook and I’ll be damned if I give up now.

  RUTHLESS TRAITOR is a full length mature college/new adult romance with enemies-to-lovers/love-hate themes. This is a reverse harem novel, meaning the main character has more than one love interest. This is book three in the series.

  Afterword

  This is one of those rare books that poured out of me. I think I was on chapter five when the entire book just flooded my mind in one go. I sat down and wrote out an entire book’s worth of chapter breakdowns.

  From that point forward, I was full throttle writing this book. It wanted out of me and while I was stuck on bedrest with a herniated disc in my spine waiting to find out whether I’d get to have surgery or not, this was my distraction and my joy. It was also sometimes my agony because I couldn’t always keep up with the words I wanted to pour out.

  Scarily enough, the next book in the series is doing the exact same thing, so I cannot wait to see where we go from here.

  Thank you for being on this journey with me. I’m so excited to see where we go from here.

  xoxo

  Heather

  About Heather Long

  USA Today bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas summertime. From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories—her characters drive the books. When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family. She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.

  Follow Heather & Sign up for her newsletter:

  www.heatherlong.net

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