Were we trying to convince each other we were wrong for one another?
Or just that… fuck. If he could take me at my worst, what would he think when he saw me at my best?
“I’m not a monster, but I’m not nice.” I held out a hand. “Can I have the towel?”
I let the curtain drop, because he’d seen all the flaws in my fucking soul, so how could him seeing my imperfect body be worse?
I wasn’t like the clubwhores. Not being pneumatic with help from a surgeon’s knife had never stopped guys from wanting me, but I had jiggly bits, and my ass wasn’t perfect, my knees were a bit dimply, and my arms were too thick. But I stood there. Flaws and all, and waited for him to give me the towel.
He stared at me. His eyes on mine, until slowly, they drifted down my length.
It was warm out, so there was no reason for the shiver that rushed along my spine as I let him take a full look at my body.
“Some parts of you are nice,” he noted thickly, his eyes on my tits.
“Thanks,” I said dryly, making grabby hands with my fingers for the towel. “There’s a draft,” I complained.
When he stepped forward, he looked so dark in contrast to me. I wasn’t pale. My skin was olive, thanks to my Italian heritage, and my hair was just that side of black on the chestnut scale. I was golden, I guess, nothing about me white. But in contrast to him? I felt like an angel being approached by a demon.
And maybe I was.
The worst I’d done in my life was get a few parking tickets, and hell, maybe some jaywalking shit on my record. Nyx? Even his name meant night. But Christ, I bet jaywalking was the least of his worries.
Fuck, everything about this was bad, and yet...
I could be me.
I knew that.
Even more than that, I knew I could let the other side of me come out. The side that liked fucking hot milk. The one who really loved her goddamn Comfy, and the one who seriously had an issue with Friends reruns.
In his dark leather, denim, and soft jersey Henley, he was everything my mom had taught me to avoid—not just through lectures but by experience, and yet, I was a moth to his flame, because he got me.
Sure, he didn’t know every inch of me, even if I could feel the trace of his eyes along my skin, but the worst parts of me hadn’t made him back off, and that was weirdly important.
I bit the inside of my lip when his hand came out.
He didn’t go for my tits like I’d expected. He didn’t even cup my ass, or go straight for the gold between my legs—and trust me, I’d seen how he treated that bitch Cammie...
The thought of her had me stiffening. “Do you have something going with Cammie?”
He reared back like I’d slapped him. “God, no.”
My jaw tensed. “You only fuck her.”
“At the moment. I don’t share,” he stated.
I huffed. “Yeah. Right.”
“I don’t. The others know to leave her alone.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I told them to leave her alone, and they do.”
“That sounds like you’re exclusive.”
“We’re not.” He tipped his chin up, like he was waiting to argue with me, preparing himself for it, and my God, I felt my legs turn to mush when I saw how ready he was for the fight.
Excitement whirred through me, excitement and arousal. Christ, out of nowhere, I was horny. I’d gone from feeling all trembly and shaky, to suddenly feeling exhilarated.
He wanted my ire.
My wrath.
He was waiting on it.
His hand, the one I’d expected to go to all the usual places a guy aimed for, had gone to my chin. His thumb had pinched the little line I had there, so I grabbed his wrist and told him firmly, meanly, “I don’t share either. If you think I’ll fuck you until after I can clean your cock with alcohol wipes—”
Now that had him blinking. “Fuck that.”
I shrugged. “Tea tree oil then.”
“Because that’s nature’s defense against STDs?” He barked out a laugh. “If you need me to clean my cock before you come around it, then I’m okay with that. But I’m clean.”
“I’ve seen her suck you.”
“I always wear a rubber.” He pursed his lips. “Club rule.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure you wear a dental dam...”
“A what?” He pulled a face. “I don’t eat pussy. They’re not there for that.”
I blinked at him. “That has to be the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard a guy say.”
“It’s for their safety too.”
“That’s supposed to reassure me?” I slapped his hand away. “You guys are gross.” I grabbed the towel and quickly wrapped myself up in it. But, as my attention was elsewhere, his hand slipped around my waist, and he hauled me against his side.
“I’m a Sinner, Giulia. I’m dirty. Filthy to the core. My soul is black, but my body is clean. The least of my problems is an STD.”
“This is the most unromantic conversation I’ve ever had,” I informed him flatly.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you needed roses and candlelit suppers.” He laughed—breaking my fucking heart in the process, because God, his laughter was few and far between. “Remind me next time, and I’ll bring both with me when I come to ride your ass about being late.”
I tensed. “We are late.”
“I hate being late,” he informed me. “Don’t do it again.”
A part of me wanted to be late on purpose from now on, and fuck, if the notion didn’t make my pussy wet. Not as wet as being held against his body, of course.
I could feel every inch of him. And I wasn’t talking about his lean torso or the long, powerful stretch of his legs, which were covered in scratchy denim that had been worn smooth in only a few patches.
When I said every inch, I meant it.
Fuck.
He was huge.
I released a shuddery breath and whispered, “This is stupid.”
“Yes. It is,” he replied, but he rocked his hips against me. “But I want it. I want you.”
I closed my eyes as I turned my face away. Taking a moment to collect my breath, to get my head in gear, I tried to get my lips to form the words that would make him release me, but I couldn’t.
I just couldn’t.
Instead, I reached down and pressed my hand to his. Covering his fingers with mine, I murmured, “Do you promise you’re clean?” “Yes. Fuck’s sake, Giulia, I wouldn’t come to you unclean.”
I believed him.
God help me.
My safety was important to him. Why wouldn’t it be on this score?
Even as a part of me felt shitty for Cammie, another rejoiced, and what that said about the feminist in me was another matter entirely.
This entire clubhouse was bad for the feminist movement, but that wasn’t my problem.
At least, it wasn’t my problem at the moment.
The future Giulia was going to regret this, every minute of it, but God, he felt so good against me.
So right.
And the worst part about this? I wasn’t drunk, so I couldn’t blame this on the bottle of vodka I hadn’t downed. All my convictions were going down the crapper, because what he made me feel?
Sweet Lord, it had to mean something, didn’t it?
It had to be worth something.
Even if it was only once, I needed to know. Needed to understand.
When he splayed his fingers, letting the heat of his palm sink into my belly, I was a goner.
He’d pulled none of the usual tactics, had done nothing that supposedly ‘good boys’ did when they got around a naked woman. If anything, he’d done everything ass backward, and I appreciated that so fucking much.
With a sigh, I twisted in his arms and whispered, “This is a mistake.”
“All the best things in life are.”
I blinked at that, as well as the resolve that told me he meant every word. Looking into th
ose deep eyes, I murmured, “Kiss me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
❖
NYX
I KNEW SHE WANTED MORE, but I gave her a gentle peck on the lips. The tiniest kiss, a soft brush of our mouths, gentle enough to make her moan, to prove something to both of us… To prove that she meant more to me than just a fuck.
I was surrounded by beautiful women on a daily basis. Women who’d spread their legs at my command the second I walked into a fucking room. Women who could have walked on goddamn catwalks they were so fine, but no one was like this bitch.
This fine mass of curves in my arms was more than just a body.
She was Lizzie’s daughter, and if there was something that could put me off her, it was that. But it was what fucked with my head. Not because I’d admittedly had a crush on her mom as a kid, but because she was a cut above.
She wasn’t even a townie, or a country clubber, she was Lizzie’s.
I had to treat her right. Lizzie deserved that.
More than that, Giulia deserved that.
She deserved better.
Which meant I should back away, but I couldn’t. That weird as fuck connection that sprang to life whenever she walked into a fucking room was reverberating through me like a jackhammer down my vertebrae.
I felt each and every hit, except, instead of agonizing pain, I experienced a blissful pleasure at the slick bundle in my arms.
Squeezing her a little tighter than before, gifting her another soft brush of our mouths that had our lips clinging to one another, I whispered, “Let’s make the mistake together.”
When she gulped, I knew I had her. But there was no smugness, no bluster about this score. If anything, it was a kind of relief that flickered through me.
This, I understood.
Lust, need, arousal? Sure, that made sense to me. Passion and desire too. It all fit. The sense that I needed to protect her was something I could explain away also. I wanted to protect every woman and child in my vicinity. I could hide from the fact that that need trebled around her, could dismiss it as unimportant.
With her in my arms, I could breathe a little easier, all while I shoved that thought aside.
Pressing my face into the curve of her throat, I inhaled her sweet scent and whispered, “You’re going to fuck with my head, Giulia, but you’re going to fuck with my body too.”
“Is that a request or a question?”
I heard the amusement in her voice and was charmed by it. How couldn’t I be?
She was everything and nothing I’d thought I’d ever want. I hated sass in a woman. Hated it with a passion. Snark was one thing, but Giulia was a bitch. She was hard as nails too. But I respected that, and damn if I didn’t want to fuck the gall out of her, one screw at a time.
Dick twitching at the thought, I muttered, “Both.”
She snorted, then reached between us and cupped my dick. It was the first forward move either of us had made, and I let her do it and loved the way she moaned.
“Fuck, you’re huge.”
That the moan was a combination of distressed and delighted had me smirking against her throat, even as I parted my lips and began to flicker my tongue over the sensitive skin there.
“I’ll make it good for you,” I promised, knowing why there was hesitancy coming from her.
Big dicks were great when it came to an open locker room, but I’d grown past the days where measuring my cock with another guy was important. Mostly, they were pains in the asses. Bitches could never swallow me down like they could an average guy, and I could never bone someone too hard for fear of goddamn breaking them.
One of the reasons I liked Cammie was because she could deep throat three-quarters of my length. That alone was like having the Virgin Mary pop up in my bedroom every second Thursday of the month—a goddamn miracle.
“I’m sure you will,” she replied. Again, she sounded amused, and fuck if I didn’t like that I never knew where she was going with her moods.
I let my hands drop down to cover her ass, then, as I parted her cheeks a little, I dragged her against me, trapping her hands between our bodies. After a final flutter of my tongue against her pulse point, I pulled back and murmured, “Are you ready to make a mistake?”
She blinked at me before her grin, not unlike the sun rising in the morning, began to grow.
Wider and wider, until I felt blinded by it.
“I’d love to,” she retorted, then immediately squealed as I hauled her up against my chest. She parted her legs and instantly hooked them around my waist, and taking advantage, I squeezed her butt again as I walked out of the bathroom that had needed a new look back in the eighties, and into a bedroom that contained a bed that was way too small for what I wanted to do to her.
But—and it was a huge but—I didn’t need this shit getting around the clubhouse. Sure, everyone knew I wouldn’t share, but the second they knew Giulia was fucking one of the brothers, she’d be fair game, and as fucking terrified as everyone was of me, that didn’t mean some bastards wouldn’t tempt fate just to get a piece of something I wanted.
I wasn’t going to claim her, and that put her in jeopardy.
Sure, anyone who touched her would lose their fucking hands, but that wouldn’t save her the trauma.
God, my thought process was enough to make me pull back, and I probably would’ve done, if she hadn’t reached up and connected our mouths.
The second she did that, I was lost. I couldn’t even think, my brain was blown out, clean through the gaping hole in my skull after the hit to the head that was this kiss.
I felt it in my dick, my bones. Not even my soul escaped the power of this kiss. It was like a...
God, why was my mind filled with violent thoughts as I dealt with the repercussions of this kiss?
I didn’t know, so I pushed it away, focused on the good, the joy that came from this simple connection.
Her mouth was tender, her kiss soft. So unlike the woman who made a hedgehog look like it had a Brazilian. She slipped her tongue into my mouth, hesitant at first, softly, then as our tongues touched, she shivered, moaned, then hitched herself higher in my arms as though she was trying to get closer and couldn’t do it.
I grunted as her belly rubbed against mine, her heat delicious and delightful at the same time.
She thrust against my tongue, fucking me there like I’d fuck her later, but that wasn’t for now.
Next time, I’d show her shit that would make her eyes widen.
This time, I had to prepare her.
My fucking bastard cock.
With a grunt, I pulled back before I lashed my tongue over her lips in apology. She moaned, then instantly traced the same path I took, her eyes drowsy as though I’d laced my saliva with alcohol.
That look got to me so fucking much that I had to take a second to get myself under control. I had to focus. Had to breathe. I couldn’t lose myself in her. Not yet, if ever.
Revealing the real me wasn’t going to work. Couldn’t work. No one could deal with that.
No one.
Inside, the demon clawed at the control I tried to assert over it. It ripped at the cage it subsisted in, tore at it like it was made of paper, and then she moaned, ignored my silent dictate, and connected our mouths once more. That moan told me she couldn’t bear to be apart a second longer, and neither could I.
I sank into that kiss. Drowned in her and us. And the monster? It calmed. It was soothed, and I shuddered with relief as I just focused on her and our connection.
Unable to help it, my knees buckled as relief bombarded me, and I staggered over to the nearest wall, needing support, needing to make sure I kept her upright without dropping her.
Her weight was inconsequential to me, but when I was being torn in two by the two opposing sides that wanted a piece of me, I just knew I needed some extra help.
As she began to tongue fuck me once more, I stopped worrying about shit I couldn’t control, stopped thinking pe
riod. I just focused on her, and us, and what she made me feel.
With a groan, I dove into her as much as she dove into me, until our tongues were thrusting against each other’s. I ate at her, and she ate at me, and it was the deepest, most intimate kiss of my life.
Bar none.
She exposed every raw part of me, brought the light to it, and blew my mind with her power as she went, because no one had ever affected me this fucking much.
I shoved her into the wall, grabbed her hands and pressed them on either side of us, not stopping until she was pinned there, splayed above and below.
When I tore my mouth from hers, she whimpered, her eyes beseeching as the lids lazily opened, and she arched forward, trying to reconnect us once more.
“I want you to know something.”
She blinked. “What?”
Fuck, her mouth was kiss sore, pink and red, the lines blurring in a way that made me want to lick them.
“I have piercings.”
She blinked again. “Huh?”
“My dick is pierced. I didn’t want you to run screaming from the room when you saw my hardware.”
For a second, she just stared at me, then when she laughed, I shook my head.
“H-Hardware?” she sputtered.
Though I was amused at her amusement, I just arched a brow. “You haven’t seen my cock.”
She did as I’d wanted to moments before—licked her lips. Fuck, I could almost taste her. Sweet and soft, pillowy. Better than any fucking donut I’d ever eaten.
With my eyes trained on her mouth, her little smirk didn’t escape my attention, so I let my gaze drift to hers, saw the sparks in them, and muttered, “Are you going to run screaming from the room?”
“Someone did?”
“A country clubber who wanted a bit of rough on a weekend one night last year.” I hated fucking non-regulars, but she’d been persistent, and the demon was hungry… so I’d relented and had regretted it.
“I think I need to see this monster cock for myself. I mean, I’ve heard the rumors, and I’ve seen peeks.”
Inwardly, I winced, because the fucking women just couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Maybe some pricks would think their egos were being stroked, but me? I liked my privacy. That was why I didn’t share. That Cammie had talked about me, about what I’d done to her, made me want to scream.
Forgotten & Found: A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Boxset Page 14