by Kerri Ann
Lifting the hem of the shirt, brushing her skin as I do, a sharp intake of breath escapes her. Still wearing that helmet, it turns me on further. One thing I’ve never done is take a woman on my bike. I’ve never fucked a woman on it, as none have been worth it.
Raising her up, setting her on the bike, she grins, thinking she’s won. Removing the chin strap, I pull the helmet off. “Stay still,” I tell her. Laying her across the seat so her back bows against the tank, I raise the shirt.
“Lucius—” She starts her protest until my mouth connects with her exposed clit. “Jesus Christ!”
Pressing her body tight to the seat, I hold her hostage once more. She’s held in a sexual trance as I pull her greedy need from her. Her body is content to let me wreck it, to destroy it for any man that came before me, because no one will come after. I own her now.
No one else will.
I won't give her up to anyone.
Nothing can make me release her.
I may not have thought that earlier, but now that the idea is settled in my mind, it’s finite. Nothing can change it.
Squealing with delight, she grips the handlebars behind her head, shoving her body closer to my mouth, directing me to her needs. Not like I need a road map to a woman’s body, but I’m laughing inside that she tries. When I think she’s had enough, that she’s close to the edge, I relinquish my hold on her. Dragging her off the end of my bike, I sling her over my shoulder and walk inside the house once more.
“What the fuck! Lucius, finish what you started! We know how this goes. I’ll do it without you,” she complains hoarsely. Her voice hasn’t become any closer to the sound she had before Nock, and I’m satisfied with that. She’s sexy as fuck, and that voice makes her the most beautiful thing on this planet. If I’m being greedy, I don’t fuckin’ care.
Walking through the door, laying her back on her feet, I place her in front of the couch. “Hold that thought.”
Reaching into my wallet and pulling free a condom—we’ve tempted fate a few too many times for me to do it again—I strip off my jeans and wrap up at the speed of light. Bending her over the couch back, raising her ass in the air, I toss the shirt away. “You can scream now.”
Thrusting within her, Obi’s tight pussy accepts and clamps around me as I shift back and forth. The feel of her is addictive, something I could stay inside of forever. Reaching around, grasping those soft globed tits, I pinch the pink tips that call to me. Her raspy voice growls as she whines with my moves and as my speed increases.
That long hair of hers tickles my abs as I move, begging for me to hold it. Releasing a handful of tit, I grasp her strands. Weaving it around my palm, her head is instinctively thrust backward. I lean forward as her body tightens toward her end. “Come for me,” I growl in her ear.
“Not yet,” she argues. Her body disagrees even as she tries to hold herself off. Screaming out her release within seconds, her inner walls tighten so harshly, I can’t hold off. Rolling her hips to meet mine, I push hard against her body, growling out my own end.
“Fuck,” I groan as the tightness subsides and Obi slouches against the couch.
Relinquishing her hair, kissing her on the back of her shoulder and easing myself out, I laugh as her body gives me back my cock. Pulling off the used wrapping, I tie it up, then walk it to the trash.
Oubliette falls forward across the leather, landing on the cushions with a lazy slap. “Wow. That was better than before. What will you do for an encore?”
“I have to leave, Obi.” I know it’ll start a new round of ‘you’re not going,’ but I have to leave. It’s eleven now, and I’m expected at Humble shortly. As it is, I’ll have to speed like a motherfucker to get there on time.
Popping her head up from the couch, I can see the disappointment on her face. “Really? You’re really looking to leave without me, still?”
“Oubliette—”
“You can’t leave me here alone.” Her tone changes. “I can’t be alone yet. Please.”
Noting how her voice sounds fearful, I blow out a heavy breath. I thought she was just looking to leave because she didn’t want to be left here and left out. I forget that she’s a strong woman—not needy and whiny. I keep forgetting that she’s been through so much, and it must still be taking a toll.
“I don’t have anything that will fit you, Obi.”
“A pair of boxers until you can stop at my place. Or a store will do fine too.” Stepping away from the couch, she walks up to me. “Please. With you, I’m with someone who understands what’s in my head day in and day out.”
“Obi—”
Placing a hand on my face, she strokes my beard and smiles. “Please. All I see is Nock’s face, and it won’t go away.”
I kiss her on the forehead. “Give me a sec.” Turning down the hall, walking to the back bedroom, I head into the closet. The closet holds old clothing that I hadn’t gave to the charity company yet. Picking out a sweater and a pair of shorts with a tie, I walk back out. “Here.” I hand her the clothes. “We need to get going.”
Smiling, and pulling my head down for a kiss, Obi doesn’t waste any time in tossing on the clothing. “Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Oubliette
Rounding the corner, approaching the downtown core, I’m thankful that we’re closing in on Humble. Sitting at a light, Lucius told me we were on our way to a meet. I’m glad we’ll be someplace I feel at home, even if it means being around bad reminders.
I haven’t been back at Humble since this all occurred, and I know it will be dangerous to my psyche, but I’m not one to shy away from fear. Driving his bike to the back of the club, pulling it alongside a row of neatly lined up others that are already in attendance, I hop off as he parks. Handing him the helmet, I start toward the rear entrance out of habit, forgetting I don’t have my keys. I stop dead at the sight of the stain from Crystal. I don’t notice as Lucius comes up behind me. “You okay?”
“I have to be.” I’m short on options. Either I deal with the issue and overcome it, or I let it crush me.
As Lucius starts to the stairs, taking them two at a time, his heavy boots clack on the open grates. Following him up, I yell ahead, “I don’t have my key.”
“Don’t worry, Death left it open. The front’s locked and the bar’s closed.”
Making our way down the darkened hall, coming up on the staff room, I stop. “I’ll meet you inside in a bit. I have a change of clothes in here.”
As Lucius is almost past the stripper change room, he turns. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I need to wash up and get dressed in something that feels familiar.” Pulling on the sweater, I think he takes the hint I need to wear something other than an old motorcycle shop logo sweater.
Walking back to me, he stands close enough that his breath brushes my face. “If you need me, yell out.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m good. Go. You have a meet.” I try to sound convincing and smile as big as I can, hoping it looks real.
Walking down the hall, leaving me to my own devices, Lucius heads toward the front. Once he’s out of sight, I enter the staff area. The quiet of it is daunting. I’m used to a room that’s hopping with a flurry of activity as guys come and go, waitresses are bitching about tippers and strippers, and bikers check up on their girlfriends. Unlocking my locker, I’m more than glad that I keep a spare set of clothing here. Pulling it out, along with my shower caddy and deodorant, I head to the showers.
Laying my clothes out, I’m almost excited. Soft materials, a clean bra set, jeans, and thankfully a spare set of trainers. I pet them, excited to step out and trash the shoes I’ve been wearing. Too many reminders, too many thoughts that bring me back to the activities as of late.
Stripping down, then turning on the shower and staying away from mirrors—because I haven’t had a chance to put on makeup or do my hair nice for weeks—I get to work on feeling like Oubliette once more.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Busta
Explaining a bit of it to Death earlier in the week at the hospital, I know it wasn’t enough to prepare him for the events of today.
Leaving Obi at the back, I badly wanted to stay with her. I know she can look after herself, and that this is probably one of the safest places for her, but I still don’t like leaving her. Thing is, this has to be dealt with. Nothing else matters at the moment.
Passing through the hall to the main area in the club, I see that everyone is here already. They’re not sitting together and chatting like friends, but they’re in the same room. That’s a start in my opinion.
At a large table sits Death, another guy, and Miss. His VP Curse is missing, but I heard he’s still hanging in there and getting better by the day. Obi was glad to hear it as Curse, she’d mentioned, was one of her favorite guys. Instead, seated beside Death is a very large guy and an oversized dog resting at his feet. It’s one of those reddish-colored dogs like from that movie with the cop and the dog who’s a witness to a crime. I can’t remember the name of it, but this dog is just as big, slobbery, and dangerous looking.
At the second table sits Soulless and Sinner from the Heartless Bastards. Checking their phones and sipping on the beers in front of them, they raise their eyes as I walk in. I wouldn’t expect anything less, as the last time I’d seen either of them, I was one of the few that had tried to do them damage—on directives from True.
The last table is the one I worry about and fear the most—the Restless Souls. Cap and Raptor stare me down with hate in their eyes. Murder in their intentions. I can’t say I’m disappointed, as I’d be surprised if they didn’t.
Rising from the table, Death yells out, “Busta! Good. Now we can get this show on the road.” Pulling a beer from a bucket on the table, he uncaps it and hands it to me.
Starting toward him, but still not taking my eyes off Cap, I answer him. “Thanks, man.”
“Where’s my bartender?” Death asks, grabbing my attention. His smile is bright, quirky, and I can’t blame him. She’s damn amazing.
“In the back. She needed a shower and clean clothes.” Taking the offered drink, the cool liquid flows freely and joyfully down my throat. Chin raising my newly appointed VP, Miss grins. He’s already attached the VP rocker on his cut, even though my enforcer patch is still on mine. It’s been a fucking whirlwind, and I haven’t had the time to change it out. That, and my original vest houses a bullet from Death’s sister. It’s crazy how fast this shit has gone down. It’s not been years, but weeks.
“Without sounding kinda crazy, tell me that guy looks pretty much like you.” Death looks to Cap and mutters in a low tone.
Pulling the bottle away from my mouth, I wipe the foam from my lips. “Yeah, he definitely does.” Setting the bottle down, I decide it’s best to get any questions out of the way now. “Let’s get to intros then.”
“Sounds good, brother. We have a ton to discuss.” Clasping his hand, I turn to my VP. “Miss, you good?”
He hasn’t torn his eyes away from Cap, and I can just imagine the thoughts running through his head. We don’t associate normally with guys from the south, as it crosses too many clubs. At least that was under DG. With me at the helm, I’m crossing that line. I need to for my own peace of mind.
Raising his voice slightly, he directs his comment at Cap and Raptor. “Would you mind coming over to this table? We’ve got enough room to seat us all.”
With Death and his buddy rising, Miss moves to sit closer to his sister’s beau. They’ve met a few times, and yeah, he wasn’t happy at first with his twin dating a guy from another club, let alone their VP, but he’d been pretty cool about it after they met. Sinner is darker than I am, with no facial hair, and his head shaved tight to his scalp. With a multitude of tattoos that run along his throat, I assume they run down his body. Clothed, I can’t see much more than what’s showing, but he’s definitely covering the real estate he has visible.
Soulless and I have met a few times. As enforcer, it was a part of the business. We’ve not been on the best of terms, but then again, who is when you’re entering and messing with each other’s territory or business? With a long scar down his forearm, Soulless holds it out for a handshake. “Busta. Congrats on the change in leadership. I hope this is a change for the good.”
I shake the offered hand. “You and me both.” I nod my head toward his VP. “Sinner,” I greet as he eyeballs me. Under any other circumstances, we’d be guns drawn and blood spilt, but this is a change in the dynamics, a way to create something that will close off King from the game he plays with all of us. We’re a ton smarter than he thinks, and it’s time we showed him. Me calling him for an exit with Obi was a dumb move if I wanted to stay out of his way and under the radar, but it also started something that I can’t staunch the flood of.
As Cap and Rap walk over and take a seat silently, I decide it’s best to start. “I know this is your house, but do you mind if I do the intros, Death?”
“Nah. Go for it.” Still looking from me to Cap, he has a driving need to find out who and what Cap is to me.
“Left to right, club to club. I’m Busta, newly appointed Pres of the Broken Bows, and this big bastard beside me is Single Miss. If he looks chummy with the man beside him, Sinner, it’s because his sister is dating him.” With a chin raise, he sucks back on his beer. “He’s VP to the Heartless Bastards, and next on the left is his Pres, Soulless. Death, owner of this fine piece of pussy establishment, is Pres of the Four Horsemen, and seeing his VP Curse is still in the hospital, he’s in attendance with—” I pause, requesting the man to give us his name.
Death smacks his friend on the shoulder. “This is Trigger, and the dog is Radish. Trigger doesn’t talk much. Don’t expect a long, drawn-out conversation.”
Fine by me. “Then the last two joining us are Captain and Raptor, his VP. The Restless Souls are from Orange County. The reason that he looks familiar is that Cap is my little brother. Long story. I won’t get into it right now, fellas.”
“Why?” Cap pipes up. “They might as well know you deserted your family, ran off with a DEA agent and left everything you ever knew in New York. I mean, why would that be a long story? I think that was pretty fucking short.”
“Cap—”
“Don’t fuckin’ ‘Cap’ me, Lucius. I’ve waited years to hear this story, might as well draw it out as long as you can. After all, story or no story, truce or not, I’m putting a bullet in your skull once we walk out of here.” He’s deadly serious, and it puts Miss on alert.
I place a hand on Miss’s shoulder. “It’s good, brother. Let me run it all down before we start with the killing.”
“Cap, I don’t know you. I don’t know shit about you and Busta, but I know who we’re up against. If Busta can shed some light on it, more than he and I have already chatted on, then I’m open for discussions. You might want to give him a moment before that bullet flies. For your club, just as much as I’m doing this for mine.” Death is calm, and as serious as a heart attack. His tone brokers no room for blood in his club.
“Your club, your rules, for the moment.” Cap leans back in his chair. “Expect splatter marks on the pavement, though.”
Taking a seat, I run down what happened the day I left Cruel Intentions. How the death of Colton and his father wasn’t what killed the club, but King. That fucker took everything from me that day, even so much as my brother too. We were thick as thieves, and King has made us enemies. I’m hoping this sorts shit out.
“I know King has approached all the clubs in the area in some way. He’s infiltrated them, setting his own men in places of power.” Keeping a close watch on my brother as I run down the last ten plus years, I tell him everything. The training, the deal that was struck, and the way that King has kept us all in check. “There’s no reason for you to trust me, and there’s no reason for you to believe me, but we need a resolution to this. If we want to survive, if we want to take him down so that we can run our clubs the way we want
, then we need to do this right.”
As everyone settles into a quiet calm, thinking over everything I’ve told them, Oubliette walks out of the back. Wearing a thin, short, see-through tank top that shows of her midsection, a red bra—that hardly hides those nipples, tight black jeans that hug her curves in all the right spots, and a set of black heels, my concentration on the table wains. Fuck, she’s damn gorgeous.
“Bennett!” she yells, running across the space.
Rising out of the chair, he hugs her tightly, murmuring into her hair, “Damn, girl, you lost weight. Those fucking hips are sticking out.”
“Did I?” Only days have passed, but it’s taken its toll on her. Being with her, as she wore the same clothing, I guess I never noticed the change. I never saw that she hadn’t eaten much, that she hadn’t been taking care of herself. Fuck. And I promised Death I would make sure she was good.
Looking over his shoulder at me, while he still has her wrapped in his arms, his scowl says the same. He’s pissed. I think she looks fucking hot, but I don’t see the difference that he does.
“Oubliette, have you been looking after yourself?”
Pulling back slightly, she smiles. “I guess not. You want a special?”
Deflection.
“Damn straight I do. Give me an Oubliette special. One for each of these men too.” Taking his seat again, Death stares me down. “We’ll chat.”
Standing beside me for a moment, Obi touches my shoulder and says hello to Miss as she walks off to the bar. Watching as she walks in those heels, I make a mental note to have those wrapped around my head tonight.
“Damn. That’s a nice piece of ass, Busta,” Rap jokes. “Hate to see anything happen to that old lady. Hate to see her leave you for a real, honest man.”
Spinning away from checking her out, I level Raptor with a glare. “You fucking think to touch that woman and I’ll leave your bones on the pavement, Jerry.”
Smirking, he raises his hands in mock defeat, but I know better. Even after all this time has passed, I know that Rap wouldn’t worry about crossing a line between a brother and his girl.