“Well, come on in—fresh beer, weed, and pussy for you guys,” he says with a chuckle. I watch his eyes as they shift from side to side. He looks cagey, uneasy, and that in turn puts me on alert.
Once we step through the clubhouse doors, I cringe. It reminds me of our club in Bonners Ferry before Fury came in and cleaned house.
There are a couple of broke down, strung out whores lying on the sofa, barely breathing. Nobody is laughing, joking, or partying. They’re separated and they all look pissed.
I walk over to a guy I’ve known for a while, Free. He’s leaning against the wall.
“Got a minute?” I ask. He lifts his chin toward the door and I follow him out. “You guys in trouble?”
“Got more trouble than we know what to do with,” he admits, looking off into the distance.
“Need help with that?” I ask.
“Might here shortly,” he says.
“Whatever you need, here for you, brother,” I say. He nods.
“I appreciate that. Give me a month to try and clean house. If I can’t get it done, then I’ll call in reinforcements,” he murmurs.
“Got your back, Free,” I confirm.
Free walks away, leaving me standing near the clubhouse, and I watch him take off on his bike. I turn around and head back inside.
Torch looks at me in question and I shake my head. We spend the evening partying. Well, they do. I don’t drink a drop. I nurse the same beer all night and I observe.
The drugs are flowing; cocaine is everywhere. The whores are junkies itching for their next fix, and most of the men aren’t fairing much better.
There’s a problem here, and I have a feeling Free won’t be able to fix it himself. I have a feeling that we’ll be back soon and cleaning house with vengeance.
The next morning, we leave the clubhouse but we don’t head back home to Idaho. Instead, we drive to California, to MadDog.
We need to report what we’ve witnessed, who is definitely fucked up and fucking things up. Then we need to report on who definitely doesn’t approve of the shady shit happening.
There are a few on the fence, but for the most part, there is a clean divide between the brothers.
The ride to California is going to extend our trip, but that’s ok. I need some time away from Brentlee or I’ll fuck it up even more than it already is.
After a long day’s ride, we settle into our hotel and I decide to call Brent and check up on her.
“Hello,” she murmurs sleepily into the phone.
“Hey, baby, it’s me,” I say.
“Bates, I thought you were going to be back in town today,” she yawns. I had text her the day before and told her where I was and when I’d be home so she wouldn’t worry.
“Gotta go see MadDog in California, then I’ll be home.”
“That’s a long trip. Be safe, please,” she whispers.
“You too, tigritsa,” I sigh.
* * *
It’s been another week. A long fucking week. A week where I haven’t been sleeping, and the flashbacks are coming regularly. Between riding to Canada, to Cali, and now coming home, I’m so fucking exhausted. I don’t know which way is up. I should give in to the bottle of Jack that’s underneath my bed, but I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to be my father.
I’ve been drowning myself in work at the club and the drama of the Canadian brothers. Now that I’m home, it’s time for me to focus on the Devils Club. It’s a place I have been neglecting for weeks.
“You haven’t fixed your shit,” Fury grunts as I walk from my room into the bar at the clubhouse.
“Nope,” I reply, straightening my cut.
“You need to,” he says. I want to roll my eyes.
“Doin’ the best I can,” I lie, knowing damn well I could do a fuck’ve a lot more to woo Brentlee back. I don’t want to do that, though; I want her to come to me.
“Prospects gettin’ patched in tonight. Party at Devils starting at midnight,” he informs me. I nod.
Fuck. The girls hate getting last minute changes to the schedule. I roll my neck and stretch it out.
I’m gonna have to give some of these bitches a pay raise.
I grunt as my response and leave. I don’t have time to waste telling Fury all the reasons he’s an asshole. I have bitches to round up.
The club is already alive with music, strippers, and booze when I arrive. I quickly make my way backstage, where the girls are all applying makeup and changing into costumes for their next show.
A few of them give me knowing smiles, because I’ve fucked them more than once. I try not to with the girls that work for me, but patch-in parties happen, and shit happens.
“Patch in party tonight. Who’s staying?” I ask. I hear a few groans but about five of the girls raise their hands.
“Extra bonus included for the night, naturally,” I chuckle. Another girl raises her hand. “I’m gonna call in a few of the girls that have the night off, then. I need more than six,” I say. Nobody else volunteers and I turn to leave.
“Can’t wait for tonight,” one of the girls I’ve fucked in the past speaks up as soon as I step out of the door.
I don’t respond to her. If I do, I’ll say something stupid. I want to wait for Brentlee, I want to wait for as long as she needs me to. I want to show her that I mean it, that I want only her. But my dick—yeah, my dick ain’t so patient, and he wants some pussy.
I spend the rest of the night in my office doing paperwork I hate so that I’ll keep my eyes and my dick to myself. When the club shows up at midnight, it’s time to kick the rest of the patrons out of the bar.
Luckily, nobody gives us any hassle and the girls start the show right away. I make my way over to the bar and grab a beer for myself before I go to join my brothers.
I watch as two girls start to strip, doing their regular routine. I know It’ll end up being much dirtier with the doors locked. When they’re completely naked, the show really begins and they start to go at it on stage. Licking, fingering, pinching, and kissing. It’s sexy as fuck, and my dick presses against my zipper at the sight.
One of the other stripers walks right over to me, already completely naked. I’ve fucked her. Angel. She’s a fucking wildcat, too. I bite my bottom lip as she climbs on my lap, her thighs spread with her knees on either side of my legs.
I watch as her fingers trail between her tits and down to her waxed pussy. I almost whimper when she slides them between her folds and thrusts them inside with an exaggerated moan. I don’t give a flying fuck if it’s fake, it’s still hot as hell.
“Touch me,” she demands breathlessly.
My hand twitches, ready to roam over her naked body, but I don’t.
I shake my head. I want Brentlee. I know the abstinence and the hard work will pay off eventually.
“What—oh, my God.”
I hear Brentlee’s rasping voice from behind me and I stand, sending the naked stripper to the ground before I turn to face her. She looks horrified and sad all at the same time.
“Brent,” I start. She shakes her head, backing away from me.
I didn’t do a fucking thing wrong and I’m not letting her out of here thinking I did. I take several quick steps toward her and pick her up without warning. She screams, but I ignore her as I take her to the closest private place. The strippers dressing room.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“What were you doing? You know what? It’s not my business,” she says as her head hangs.
“Why ain’t it your business?” I ask.
“Because you’re not mine. It doesn’t matter. We aren’t together,” she says. It pisses me the fuck off.
“Fuck that, my names on your body—we’re as together as it gets,” I grind out, taking a step toward her.
I watch as she backs up with each step I take, until her ass collides with the makeup table.
“Bates,” she whimpers.
I don’t stop until my hips are fitted
between her thighs, my jeans making contact with her panty covered pussy. Her skirt is indecently short, and that’s another thing that pisses me off, added to my fucking list.
I slide my hand up her spine and twist my fingers into her hair before I tug her neck back. I scrape my beard along the length of her neck before I press my lips to hers.
“We shouldn’t,” she murmurs against my lips.
“We absolutely fuckin’ should,” I growl before my lips crash against hers.
I shove my tongue deep into her mouth, tasting her, consuming her, showing her exactly who owns her.
I know the moment she surrenders. When her hips roll and her hungry pussy searches for more. Her fingers slide through my hair at the nape of my neck. When she shivers in my arms, trembling, I know I’ve won.
I slide my hand from her hip over her thigh and to the lace over her pussy.
Fuck, she’s soaked through, and I shiver myself before I slide it to the side and run my finger over her damp lips.
“Baby,” she whispers, pulling her lips from mine and arching her body closer to me. I lick and kiss the column of her neck while I sink my finger inside of her hot core.
She feels so fucking good. Warm. Wet. Tight. I pull my finger out and rub her wetness onto her clit, rolling it between my fingers and enjoying the way she gasps when I pinch it lightly before I sink two fingers inside of her. She sighs as her body relaxes beneath my touch. My lips never leaving her neck.
This is the end of our separation.
I can’t deny myself a moment longer. I need to have her at my side. I need to have all of her, always.
BRENTLEE
I resist him for about a second before I give in. Once he touches me, slides his fingers inside of my pussy and his tongue into my mouth, I’m done for. I need him. More than that, I want him.
I want every piece of him inside of me.
“I need you, Bates,” I murmur.
Within a second, I hear his belt clink and the sound of his heavy jeans rustling and then falling to the ground.
“Open your eyes, Brentlee,” he demands.
I do; I open them and I focus on his gorgeous eyes. They’re full of lust, longing. The counter is hard under my ass, but in Bates’ arms, it wouldn’t matter how uncomfortable I was—I’d take it. I’d welcome it.
“Bates,” I moan when he wrenches my panties to the side and he presses his cock again my core. He gently pushes in, until he’s fully seated inside of me.
He pauses, just staring at me. His jaw clenched beneath his beard and his brows furrowed.
I remove one of my hands from his hair and trail my finger over my name on his neck, my eyes never leaving his.
“Don’t want anyone else,” he states. I nod but she shakes his head. “Don’t want anyone else, baby. Nobody, just you,” he murmurs slowly, pulling out of me and then sinking back inside.
“But…” I start.
He continues his slow pace, his eyes focused on me until he pulls completely out and then tugs me to my feet.
Wordlessly, he spins me around to face the mirror above the table. I squeak when he wrenches my hips back and then fills me from behind.
His gaze meets mine in the mirror as one of his hands dips inside of my panties. His finger gently strokes my clit while the other hand wraps around my throat.
“Don’t want anyone else, Brentlee,” he repeats. I can’t take my eyes off of his as I feel his cock’s long, deep strokes.
“That’s not the way it looked,” I rasp as I tip my hips a bit more, shaking slightly in my high heels.
“She climbed on me and asked me to touch her. I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I only want you,” he grinds out, squeezing my throat a little tighter.
“I can’t trust you,” I say, meaning every single word.
Bates growls above me and begins to fuck me a little harder, a bit rougher. I throw my arms up and wrap them around the back of his neck.
Surrendering to him, letting him hold me up while his powerful body thrusts inside of me. I’m his, my heart and head can’t trust him, but my body always will. I feel him pinch my clit before he taps it with his fingers.
“You’re going to have to trust me, tigritsa. You’re going to have to accept that you’re mine, and I’ll take care of you,” he grunts.
“I can’t,” I whimper before he pulls completely out of me.
I almost fall when he steps back from me. I whip around and look at him in surprise.
“You can’t fuckin’ trust me, then we can’t do this,” he roars.
I open my mouth as he grabs his pants and pulls them up. I can see the defeated look in his eyes. If he leaves now, there’s no hope.
I want hope.
I want him.
He’s right.
I need to let some of my shit go. He’s been constant and consistent, but this place, this limbo, it isn’t going to work for much longer.
“Wait, please don’t leave me,” I beg. He stops, his eyes wide.
“Brent,” he sighs.
“Fuck this. Fuck the past. Fuck it all, Bates. I love you and I want you. The rest of the shit, I’m going to have to let it go. Because losing you, it would be my biggest regret,” I confess.
A second later, I am wrapped in his arms and he’s lifting me, his lips crashing against mine and my back slamming against the closed door.
I don’t register his fumbling hands beneath me as I wrap my legs around his waist, my lips attacking his with the same ferocity his attack mine.
I cry out when he rips my panties completely off and then fills me again. This time, he doesn’t fuck me slow. No, he pounds into me, his strength causing my back to bang against the door.
I’ll be bruised up in the morning, but it will be worth it—worth every second. I wrench my lips from him as I cry out in pleasure.
“Say you’re mine,” he grunts against my neck as he sucks at my skin.
“I’m yours,” I murmur.
“I want that whole fucking club to hear it,” he orders as one of his hands smacks the outside of my thigh.
“I’m fucking yours,” I shout as I feel myself on the verge of climaxing.
“Shit, yeah, you are,” he groans as he slides his hand between us and pinches my clit, sending me over the edge.
I cry out as I come around him, my pussy pulsing, my entire body going still. Bates doesn’t stop, though. He fucks me like the savage beast that he is. His fingertips dig into the sides of my thighs as he holds me up, and his cock pistons inside of my core.
I cry out with each and every thrust until he stills inside of me. His cock fills me with his release as he lets out a guttural cry into my neck.
He doesn’t move as he empties inside of me, then he begins to slowly slide in and out of me, his face nuzzling my neck.
“Bates,” I whisper breathlessly.
“Never leaving. Not ever again,” he states. I sigh. I hope he’s telling the truth. I hope that he means his words. I’m so tired of fighting it, fighting him.
“Are you coming home?” I ask.
“I’m already home, baby,” he grins, thrusting his hips slightly.
It makes me laugh. I immediately stop when his hand cups my cheek and his thumb slides across my bottom lip.
“I love you so much,” I admit.
His eyes darken before he kisses my lips softly, brushing them twice before he rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes.
“I love you more than life itself, Brentlee. I’m so sorry I hurt you. So fuckin’ sorry. I’ll try not to do it again, ever,” he murmurs.
I tighten my legs around his waist and he lifts his head up, looking at me with confusion.
“You better not ever do it again, Bates. Not like that,” I warn.
“Never.” He nods once before his lips touch the tip of my nose and he slides out of me.
I straighten my skirt and start looking for a tissue or something to clean up with when one of his hands cups my cheek.
�
�You’re mine. Always,” he whispers as his thumb slides along my cheekbone.
“Always,” I whisper.
I gasp when his other hand slides between my legs and his fingers enter me.
“My cum stays here tonight,” he murmurs.
“Bates,” I breathe in surprise.
“Need you marked. Head-to-pussy,” he grins. My heart stops for a second at how gorgeous he is.
“You know you’re a disgusting Neanderthal?” I ask.
“I branded your body with my name permanently, babe. You can’t seriously just be figuring this shit out now.” I giggle at his words, unable to control myself.
“Now that’s the sound I love—close second to the little sounds you make when you’re about to come on my cock—your laughter,” he says softly before he pulls his hand from between my legs.
“Let’s go home,” I suggest. He nods.
Together, we walk out of the dressing room, my arm around his waist, his hand planted on the spot on my hip where his name is etched into my skin.
“Thank fuck,” Fury barks as soon we walk into the bar area. I notice that he’s bellied up to the bar, talking to a pretty bartender.
“Candy, get my woman here somethin’ to drink, yeah?” Bates shouts over the loud music.
“What’ll you have, honey?” she asks.
I ask for a bottled beer. I don’t need anything special, and I really just want to go home, cuddle next to Bates, and sleep—god, I want to sleep so damn bad.
I sit on the barstool next to Bates, who is leaned down murmuring to Fury about only god knows what.
“You the reason he’s been absent?” Candy asks. I shrug as my response, unsure of what to say.
“He looks happy, honey. Keep him that way, yeah? Makes my life a hell of a lot easier.” She winks and I smile back at her. “You’re Kent’s sister?” she asks, changing the subject.
We spend the next thirty minutes talking about my sister, about her time working in the club serving drinks, and how close she and Candy became during those years.
By the end of the conversation, I have an even higher opinion of my sister, a higher respect. My sister kicks ass and has to be the strongest woman I have ever known.
The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet Page 51