The Lost Boys MC Series: Books 1-4

by Savannah Rylan

  Which meant I needed to speak with Bronx again.

  Not that I didn’t want to. I did. I really did. I was so disappointed when his crew called him away. For what reason, I have no idea. I never did with my father growing up, either. But I had a strange feeling it had to do with my quest to find my half-sister. It didn’t matter, though. My want to see him was beginning to override my need for answers.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, either.

  I rattled off the address for the hotel, and the Uber driver started in that direction. I sipped on my soda with the window rolled down, wondering if it was smart to want to see Bronx like I did. I mean, that kiss. Just thinking about it made my arms pucker with goosebumps. I hadn’t been expecting it. I would have never thought a man like Bronx would have kissed me the way he did.

  But it happened.

  And I wanted it to happen again.

  I tried to tip the driver, but he waved me off. Said the “man in the leather” gave him more than enough money to “cart me around.” A crass way to put it, but I was thankful nonetheless. So, I got out of the car and waved him off. With my full stomach and my soda gone, I was ready for a nap. But first, I wanted to stop by the vending machine and pick up a few snacks for later.

  They had some things in there I’d never seen before.

  I walked into the hotel and fished around in my purse. I had a few ones and some change, so I used it all up in the vending machine. Honestly? I didn’t want to go out tonight. I wanted to curl up in my hotel, wait for Bronx to call, and sleep. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted from the whirlwind of my first couple days in the area. And Lord only knew my father would expect me to pick up on the first ring tonight. I made my way inside, tossing my empty drink into the nearest trash can.

  Then, I made my way to the vending area.

  I slipped the change into the drink machine and pulled out four sodas to keep in my fridge. They weren’t the best for my health, but I didn’t care. If I was going to enjoy San Diego, then I wasn’t going to hold myself to some sort of diet my mother thought I needed to be on. Every time she went on a diet to maintain her weight, she expected me to do the same. It was exhausting, sure, but I knew it came from a good place. I knew it came from a place of love and not wanting me to be overweight.

  But I liked my curves. I liked the way they made me feel and look. I enjoyed dressing them up and covering them up.

  And judging by the way Bronx held me, he enjoyed them, too.

  Oh, that man.

  I shivered as I slipped the sodas into my purse. Then, I turned my eyes onto the snack machine. I had nine dollars in ones to tank through so they weren’t so bulky at the bottom of my purse. So, I slipped them each in and picked out a snack. There were chips I’d never heard of and candy bars I had yet to try. There were energy bars that would work with my morning breakfast and a couple different kinds of honey buns.

  I never could resist a good honey bun.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I bent over to scoop up the treats. For some reason, I got the vague impression someone was watching me. I sighed as I stood up, easing the snacks into my purse. Then, my head was on a swivel as I looked around.

  My father always told me to stay on alert. He taught me to always trust my gut. That, no matter what, my instincts would never betray me. That was why I felt as if I could trust Bronx. That he was good people, even though I’d already encountered people that weren’t good. At all. I gazed out the windows behind me, looking out toward the main road the hotel sat on. I watched cars to by, and people walk past on the sidewalk. But I didn’t see anyone with their focus on me.

  That sensation at the nape of my neck didn’t go away, though.

  You’re being paranoid, Freya. Like Mom sometimes is.

  I mean, it was true. My mother could get very paranoid at times. Again, came with the territory of what my father did for a living. I shrugged off the sensation as a fluke, but in the back of my mind I knew it wasn’t.

  Bring it up with Bronx when he calls.

  If he called.

  I made my way up to my room and closed the door quickly behind me. I tossed my purse of treats onto the bedside table, resolving to putting them in their rightful place later. I flopped down onto the luxurious bed and groaned, feeling myself sink into the softness of the mattress. Of the down comforter. Of the pillows that cradled me while I slept.

  “So fucking good,” I moaned.

  I laid there and felt myself falling asleep. My body was ready for an afternoon nap. However, I wasn’t ready to take it. I slid off the bed and walked over to the window, throwing back the curtains. I cracked it open just a smidge. Just enough for the saltiness of the ocean in the distance to filter into my room. Sure, the smells of the city came along with it. But it was worth it.

  And if I paid close attention, I could hear the echoing of the waves crashing against those sharp shorelines.

  I put all my snacks away on top of the fridge and stuck the sodas in the freezer. I pulled out my phone just in case someone called, then ripped off my boots. My jean shorts came off and I slipped my bra out from underneath my dress. Then, I slipped underneath the covers of the bed.

  I was just about to fall asleep for good when my phone vibrated on my bedside table.

  “Hello?” I asked groggily.

  Bronx chuckled. “Hello, sleepy head.”

  My eyes shot open. “Bronx. Hey.”

  “I didn’t mean to disturb your nap.”

  “No, no, no. You’re fine. Promise.”

  I leaned up in bed as he cleared his throat.

  “So, how did the search go?” he asked.

  I sighed. “It didn’t yield anything. Though, I kind of figured it wouldn't.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. I think this city is protecting her, too. Maybe I’m not supposed to find her.”

  “I wouldn't be too sure about that.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  He paused. “Can I come over? I mean, you’re back at your hotel, right?”

  “Seeing as you caught me on the cusp of a nap, I’d say yes,” I said, giggling.

  “Good. Can I come back over?”

  “Sure. You're more than welcome. I’m in room 902.”

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  We hung up the phone and I laid there on pins and needles. I kept my ears trained on the noises outside, flinching and jumping at everything that could have been interpreted as a motorcycle sound. But when I heard Bronx roaring down the street, I sprung out of bed. I paced the room, my heart slamming against my chest. And after almost twenty minutes of being strung out to dry, a knock came at my door.

  “It’s me,” Bronx said.

  I strode over to the door and ripped it open. And there he stood, in all his glory with that damn leather jacket stretched across those muscles. I smiled up at him before I stepped off to the side, allowing him to come into the room. The man was massive, and he made the room seem so small.

  Hell, he was practically a double bed in his own right.

  “I’m sorry. For earlier,” he said.

  I closed the door and locked it, then turned back to him.

  “I promise, you have nothing to apologize for. It’s not a big deal. I get it,” I said.

  “I know. It’s just…”

  The sentence trailed off as my eyes met his.

  “It’s just what?” I asked softly.

  His eyes rushed down my body and I flushed underneath his gaze. I licked my lips, wondering what he was thinking. Did he want to kiss me again? Because I sure as hell wanted to kiss him again. Did he want to touch me? Holy shit, I hoped he did. I wanted to feel those big, strong arms around me again. Wrapping around my waist and picking me up clear off my damn feet.

  “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of the kind of man I am,” Bronx said.

  I furrowed my brow. “
What impression do you think I’d get?”

  “That I’m someone here to manipulate you. To mislead you in some way.”

  “Well, are you?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Then, don’t. It’s as simple as that.”

  He walked toward me, his dark brown eyes locking with mine. His jet black hair fell into his face as he stopped only inches shy of my body. I pushed myself away from the door, closing the distance between us. And as I craned my neck up to keep his gaze in view, his hand came up and cupped the back of my head.

  No, not cupped.

  Cradled.

  Like he was holding something precious.

  “I’m working on it. I promise,” he whispered.

  I nodded softly. “I know you are.”

  His face fell to mine and my eyes closed. His lips pressed against me, and fireworks ignited in my brain. My hands came up to grip his leather jacket, feeling the roughness of the zipper against my palms. His arms cloaked my back as he walked forward, pressing me against the door of my hotel room.

  And when I slipped my tongue into his mouth, he reached up and flipped the last lock on the door.

  15

  Bronx

  Her tongue sent fireworks swirling throughout my body. I pinned her against the door with my body, flipping the lock as our tongues collided. She tasted like salted caramel. Sweet and savory, with a hint of spice. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Her hips rolled into me, coaxing my cock to grow thicker than it already had. Her hands pushed my leather jacket off my shoulders, and I listened as it fell to the floor in a heaping pile of uselessness.

  My hands explored her as I sucked on her lower lip.

  The moan that crept up the back of her throat made me growl. Her curves were thick. Accentuated. Her softness poured into the slats of my muscles, filling me up and molding to me. My hands roamed her body, cupping her clothed breasts and feeling her excess pour through the slats of my fingers.

  Damn it, I needed more of her.

  My hands gripped her ass cheek and I raised her off the floor. I carried her to the bed, her legs dangling and her giggles vibrating my mouth. I grinned against her as I laid her down onto the mattress, her legs just barely hanging off. She was so short. So thick. Like the most petite Christmas present I could have ever been given. I kissed down her neck, raking my teeth over her pulse point as her hands fisted my hair.

  “Bronx, that’s it. Oh, your lips.”

  Her sounds pushed me forward. She spread her legs for me and I smelled her womanhood wafting around my head. I fell to my knees and tossed her legs over my shoulders, kissing up her bare thighs. Her muscles jumped and her legs flexed as my head crept underneath her dress. The dark green swirling with bright colors that grew dark as I approached her pussy.

  Those dripping wet lips separated by a thin piece of cotton nonsense.

  With her dress over my head and her thighs around my shoulders, I pulled her panties off to the side. My tongue fell directly between her pussy lips, and I felt her buck against me. Her hands ripped her dress up, grabbing at my hair as I buried myself between her legs. My tongue fell against her throbbing clit, her juices pouring against my chin.

  I flicked, and I sucked, and I pressed down hard. I let her use my tongue as I lapped her up, from her clit to her pulsing mound. My hands pinned her hips down. Her thighs wrapped around my face, giving me soft pillows to rest my cheeks against. She shuddered and wiggled around, moaning and whimpering for me as her juices dripped down my neck.

  “That’s it. That’s it. Right there. Bronx. Oh, it burns so good. Oh, yes. Yes. Harder. Harder. Harder. Bronx!”

  Her back arched, pressing her hips further into my face. But I didn’t stop. I traced her throbbing clit with my tongue, making her cry out and push my face away. I fisted her hips and pulled her closer. I found her hands as they fell away from my hair and threaded our fingers together. I tugged on her arms, listening as she told me no, yet begged me for more.

  Her back arched deeper as I pulled her closer to me, trapping her against my lips.

  “Bronx, I can’t. It’s too much. You’re too—I just—oh, fucking. Yes. Right there. Right there. Bronx. Bronx, oh. Yes, please. Yes, please. Yes, please!”

  I growled against her pussy as I flattened my tongue over her clit. I let her ride my face, bucking ravenously against my tongue. Oh, she was greedy. Her body was greedy once she let go. And now, it was my turn to be greedy. I stood up and gripped her cotton panties with both of my hands. I ripped them apart, pulling them away from her body as she collapsed against the mattress. I tossed the pathetic scraps of fabric off to the side before I ripped my belt from my jeans. I shoved my pants and boxers down my body, feeling my cock weeping to be inside her.

  Dripping small threads of precum as she laid there, panting. Red in the face and whimpering for me to come closer.

  I gripped her thick hips and wrapped her trembling legs around me. Her eyes slowly opened, taking me in as my cock fell between her pussy lips. I thrusted slowly, coating myself in her juices. In the fluids that glistened on my neck as I licked them from my lips. Her hands fisted the sheets as a sheen of sweat appeared on her body. I grinned down at her as I grabbed my cock, lining it up with her entrance.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Fill me up, please,” she whispered.

  I slammed myself into her and set a torrid pace. I didn’t give her a second to breathe or adjust, and her legs clung to me as my hands gripped her hips. I pulled her to the edge of the bed as she wailed out, my name being broken down into nothing but syllables.

  Her hot pussy wrapped around me, making room for my thickened girth. She dripped over my balls, wetter than any woman I’d ever had. She had uncaged the animal within me, and I wouldn't let up. She wiggled around to adjust as her chest flushed with pleasure and her lips cried out for more. Her tits jumped as I pounded into her. Her juices sprayed against my pelvis as her heels dug into the small of my back. Her pussy fluttered around me, causing me to bare my teeth and growl at her as her back arched yet again.

  “That’s it. Come on this cock, Freya. Do it. I dare you.”

  “Oh, shit. Oh, yeah Bronx. Fuck. You feel—so—”

  My toes curled in my boots and my hips stuttered. Her pussy clamped down onto me and not once did it let up. It massaged my girth. Stroking against my bulging veins. And with her juices dripping down the insides of my thighs, I was a goner. I smelled her. I tasted her. And now? I had her.

  “Shit, Freya. That’s it. Holy fuck,” I growled.

  My cock exploded with her, painting her walls as she gasped for air. My legs caved from underneath me and I collapsed against her, her curves catching me. She wrapped her arms around me and held me close. She gasped for air as her heart raced against mine. Threads of cum poured from the tip of my dick, marking her before I filled her up so much that it dripped out from her body.

  We shook together as we caught our breath, the smells of our ravenous desire filling the corners of her hotel room.

  “Oh, Bronx,” she whispered.

  I found the strength to scoop her into my arms as I pulled out from between her legs. I turned around, sitting on the edge of the bed as I pulled her into my naked lap. She curled into me, tucking her head just below my chin. And as I closed my eyes, I relished the moment.

  I cradled her body close, protecting her from unforeseen forces.

  “I’m glad you came back,” Freya whispered.

  I smiled. “I’m glad I did, too.”

  “Are you staying? Or…?”

  I kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry about earlier.

  “Don’t be. I just… don’t know what to expect after something like this.”

  I furrowed my brow. “You don’t.”

  She lifted her head and I gazed down into her wondrous color-changing eyes. A dark blue, like the raging sea just before a storm.

  “Never had a one-night stand before,” she said, giggl
ing.

  I grinned. “I had a conversation with the club.”

  “Oh?”

  I nodded. “I need you to understand that I believe your story. I believe you’re in town to do nothing but find out another piece of your life.”

  She sighed. “But they don’t believe me.”

  “They’re wary of the situation, given some of the things the club’s been dealing with lately.”

  “So, you were talking to the guys of your club.”

  “Wasn’t that obvious?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t specified, but I assumed.”

  I nodded. “I’m going to keep working with them. But in the meantime, I feel like I should tell you what they decided to do.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “They decided to contact the Celtic Riders to figure out some things we’re trying to piece together.”

  Her face fell and she immediately scrambled away from my lap. Her face fell with horror before it ignited with anger.

  “You what?” she asked.

  “Freya, you have to understand—”

  “You called my fucking father? Like I’m ten years old and I’ve run away from home!?”

  “No, it’s not even like—”

  “Pull your damn pants up, Bronx,” she hissed.

  I stood and stuffed myself back into my clothes, trying to move as quickly as possible.

  “Freya, there is so much in play right now. And I can’t talk about it with you,” I said.

  “I know! I know! You biker assholes are all the same! Even though it pertains to my life, you somehow can’t tell me because of allegiance or protecting me or some bullshit. This is my life, Bronx. And you had no right to go contacting my father because I swooped into your fucking territory.”

  “That isn’t why we did it.”

  “Then, why did you do it? Huh? Tell me why you did it!”

  Except, I couldn't. And she knew that.

  Freya snickered. “Get out.”

  “Freya, please.”

  “Get the hell out of my hotel room.”

  “Freya—”