Thrust/Throb: Lost Devils MC - Book 2

by Madison Faye

  I blink and turn back to her. “Huh?”

  “I said are you okay?” Scarlett sets her mug down and reaches up to re-tie the pile of gorgeous red hair on top of her head. “You look distant.”

  “I’m fine, I just…” I frown, and she does too.

  “Barnes?” she growls, scowling. Scarlett’s my best friend, and she’s well aware of the fucked up arrangement I have with Bryce.

  I nod, and she purses her lips tighter.

  “That fucking prick,” she hisses. “Did he fucking hit you again?”

  “No, no,” I quickly shake my head. “Just in one of his moods this morning.”

  “Is it a mood or a condition if you’re always a douchebag?”

  I laugh loudly, shaking my head.

  “Thanks.”

  “What?”

  I smile. “I needed that.”

  She grins back. “Hey, it’s what I’m here for. That and eventually saving up enough so that you and I and your Grams can get the fuck gone and go live on a beach somewhere.”

  “Sounds amazing,” I sigh.

  Scarlett’s grinning, but she suddenly stiffens, and her eyes go wide. I frown.

  “You okay?”

  “Oooh yeah,” she purrs, a cat-like grin spreading over her face. She’s staring past me, and I realize I hear the sound of a rumbling engine winding down and then turning off. I turn, and my heart jumps into my throat.

  It’s Oliver, swinging a leg over and off his matte black and chrome bike. He’s wearing perfectly fitting jeans, riding boots, his leather jacket, open, and just a tight white t-shirt underneath it.

  “He’s mine,” Scarlett blurts with a giggle.

  “Excuse me?” A flash of jealousy spikes through me before I remember that Scarlett has no idea who he is, or that he and I already, uh, know each other.

  “I called it!” she giggles. “My section.”

  “No way!” I grin, playing along. “You’ve got two tables, I’ve got none.”

  “Too bad, I call dibs,” she giggles. “Or fuck me, I’d take him to go.”

  I blush, biting my lip as I grin and look up to see him stride inside. His eyes lock right on me, and my breath catches just like it did that first time he walked in here the other night as he strides for the counter.

  “Table for one?” Scarlett blurts out.

  “No, thanks,” he growls, his eyes just locked on me. “I was looking for a coffee, to go. Maybe you can help me,” he purrs, his eyes blazing into mine.

  Scarlett steps back and puts the menu in her hand down. She turns and wags her brows at me as she steps past me.

  “And he’s British? Are you kidding me?” she hisses under her breath as she walks past me and out from behind the counter over to one of her tables.

  “Um, yeah,” I whisper. “Yeah, we have that to go.”

  His jaw clenches, and we both just stare at each other, eyeing each other as the tension builds and builds around us. The air feels thicker, and I swear I can feel the heat of his body from here.

  Fuck do I want him. Horribly so. Immediately. Desperately.

  “Black?”

  “Please,” he growls quietly, his eyes never leaving mine.

  Heat pulses through my face as I turn grabbing a to-go cup and filling it with coffee. I turn and slide it across the counter to him.

  “A dollar.”

  He nods and slides the bill my way, but this time, his brows knit.

  “You okay?” he purrs.

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  Oliver’s eyes narrow. “Did he—”

  “No,” I whisper. “No, I’m fine. He was just in a shit mood last night and this morning.”

  He nods soberly, his eyes burning hot into mine.

  “What time are you off?”

  I make a face. “A lot later. I’m working a double.”

  “Well that’s a shame.”

  “Yeah,” I bite my lip, and he nods.

  “Yeah, it is. Well, later then,” he says quietly. He starts to reach for his coffee when he pauses. “Actually, mind if I use your restroom before I go?”

  Before I can open my mouth, his eyes flash something fierce at me, and he leans over the counter towards me.

  “And could you show me where it is?”

  Oh fuck.

  Heat explodes through me, tingling over my skin and taking my breath away. It pools between my thighs, making me squirm as desire pulses through my core.

  I swallow, my face burning as I glance past him. Scarlett’s just chatting away with one of her two tables, and I take a shaky breath as I drag my eyes back to Oliver.

  “It’s down the hall, back there,” I whisper, pointing towards it. I blush fiercely. “Give me one minute and I can help you find it if you think you’ll miss it.”

  “I think I will.”

  My face burns hot, and raw lust and heat throbs through me. Oliver growls lowly, his eyes tracing over my face before he turns and walks towards the hallway that leads to the restroom. I shiver, watching him walk away and already feeling my arousal soaking my panties. Every single thing about him and this entire situation just makes me feel like we’ve got this filthy, hot little secret. He’s my filthy hot little—well, not at all little—secret.

  I quickly walk over to the register and grab a handful of mints from the little cup next to it. I cram five into my mouth to try and get rid of the coffee taste as I watch Scarlett smile at her regulars and walk back up to the counter.

  “Hey, can you watch my section?”

  She snorts and arches a brow at the almost empty restaurant.

  “Yeah, I’ll see if I can manage. What’s up?”

  I shrug, looking away because lying to your best friend sucks.

  “Just my stomach, it’s a little on the fritz.”

  “Maybe not eating a hundred mints at once might help.”

  * * *

  I roll my eyes and turn to covertly spit them out into the trashcan. “Thanks.”

  “Hey, where’d he go?”

  “Who?”

  She sighs heavily. “The hot British guy with the ink?”

  “Oh, I…” I shrug and look away again. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I gotcha, girl.”

  “Thanks.”

  I rush off, tossing my apron under the counter before I duck into the back hallway. I pause at the end of it, right in front of the bathroom door. My pulse races, and I swallow before I wet my lips.

  What am I doing? This is insane, and dangerous, and if we get caught in this thing—whatever this thing is—it could mean dying. If I had any brains left that Oliver hasn’t melted along with the rest of me, I should—

  The door yanks open, his eyes blaze into mine, and I gasp as he grabs me and yanks me inside. I moan when his lips crush to mine, pressing me against the bathroom door. Our hands are a frenzy—ripping and yanking and shoving clothes away until my panties are around one ankle, my uniform is unbuttoned down to my waist, my bra is pulled low, and my dress is bunched around my hips. Time is not a luxury we have right now, and we both know it.

  Oliver’s shirtless, his jeans and boxers pushed low as he growls into my mouth. I pull him into me, gasping as he slides between my legs and grabs one thigh. He lifts it high to his waist, and I moan when I feel his throbbing hard, thick cock between my legs. I reach for him, curling my fingers around him and pulling him against my pussy. I whimper when his thick head slides into me, and when he growls, grabs me, and sinks ever inch deep inside, I slam my lips to his to muffle my cry of pleasure.

  He grunts into my lips, his hands tight on my body as he slides his cock out and then buries it right back to the hilt. I moan, feeling my pussy clench and ripple around his huge size. His hands grip my ass, supporting me, and when he grabs my other leg, I gasp and cling to his neck as both my legs tighten around his waist.

  I moan as he drives into me, fucking me against the bathroom door hard like a dirty girl. His lips tease mine, his tongue slides with mine, and our bod
ies grind together. We pant into each other’s mouths, gasping and moaning as he starts to fuck me harder, and faster. The lewd, wet sounds of his fat cock sliding into my eager, dripping wet pussy fill my ears along with my own moans of pleasure.

  “I can’t fucking get enough of you,” he growls into my ear, making me whimper as he thrusts deep. “I woke up this morning so fucking hard for you. I woke up and the first thing I wanted was you. The second thing I wanted was you.”

  I moan, clinging to him as we rock together faster, our bodies grinding and slamming together.

  “The third thing, the fourth thing, the bloody fifth thing,” he groans. “Everything I’ve wanted since the moment I left you last night, is you, Delphine,” he hisses.

  I moan, kissing him with everything I have as his cock sinks into me over and over again. The pressure begins to build, the heat pulsing and sizzling through me, until I can feel myself start to explode.

  “You’re all mine, angel,” he hisses into my ear as he drives his big gorgeous cock into me. “All fucking mine.”

  My mouth finds his, and I kiss him hard as I start to fall. He slides deep, hitting me in all the perfect spots, and I lose it. I scream into his lips, clinging to him and raking my nails across his muscled back as he grunts and buries his fat cock in my tight, creaming pussy. He throbs, and I moan as I feel him follow me right over the edge. My orgasm rips through me as his cock pulses and his heavy balls begin to unload inside of me. His hot cum pumps deep into me, making me whimper into his lips until we both stagger to a stop.

  We stay like that, my arms and legs around him, my back to the door, and his lips glued to mine. Slowly, we come apart, and he gently slides out of me to set my feet back down. I giggle, leaning into his chest and kissing his skin.

  “We need a bed.”

  He laughs deeply and wraps his arms around me, and I know I’m in trouble.

  I know I’m lost.

  I know I’ve fallen for a man I can’t have, and I’m not really sure what comes next.

  Chapter Eleven

  Oliver

  “Hey.”

  I glance up from my bike to see Shepherd standing in one of the open bay doors of the Lost Devils garage. It’s not as expansive and well-stocked a place as Mountain Steel, but Ryker, along with Axe and Stone—two other former Lost Devils members from the first version of the club—helped set this place up pretty nicely.

  “Oy,” I nod at my best friend as he leans against the wall, arms folded over his chest just under the “President” patch on his cut.

  “El Presidente,” I grunt, grinning up at him. “How’s it hanging, mate?”

  He frowns. “Good.”

  One word answers from the one guy on earth who talks as much as I do is never a good sign.

  “What’s up?”

  He clears his throat. “You got a sec?”

  “Shoot.”

  Shep nods gestures with his head to follow him out of the garage. I shrug and get to my feet, following him out and over to the fire pit next to the clubhouse. Shepherd slumps into a chair, and I pull one up.

  “You okay, man?”

  He wrinkles his brow and looks at me intensely. “Are you?”

  I shrug. “You know me.”

  “Thought I did, man,” he growls. “But apparently I don’t. Or, not as well as I thought I might.”

  My jaw tenses. “Meaning?”

  He rolls his eyes and looks away. “C’mon, Oliver. Like I wasn’t going to hear about it?”

  I swear. “Shit. Ryker spilled, huh?”

  Shepherd laughs. “Ryker? That guy wouldn’t spill shit on anyone. But thanks for going ahead and confirming what I was just guessing at.”

  I scowl. Fuck. Walked right into that one.

  “What are you into, man?”

  I smile. “Thought you had me all figured out.”

  “I don’t know the details, but I know you’re into some shit and only getting deeper. I know you’ve been driving up to Dark Water Falls for those bike races.” He frowns. “This guy Barnes who runs them… I’ve heard he’s real dipshit.”

  “Yeah, he’s a cunt,” I shrug. “It’s just some races, Shep. Me blowing off steam.”

  “Heard he’s heavy into the loans game too, and the bets on those races.”

  I nod, not saying anything.

  “Oliver, I’ve known you for a long damn time.”

  “And?”

  “And the day you don’t bet on a race you can bet on is the day I grow fucking wings and fly to the moon.”

  “It’s just races, man. Just a spot of fun.”

  “Oh, so I’ve heard,” he growls. “You’re getting a reputation in the street racing circuits.” He rolls his eyes at my scowl. “Oliver, if you wanted to keep a low profile, maybe stop winning every fucking race.”

  “Who says it’s me?”

  “Yeah, you’re right. It’s gotta be some other heavily inked bearded motherfucker who talks like Downton Abby.”

  I snort. “I don’t talk like those twats.”

  “Well, you’re winning every race, so word gets out. About you and that sweet little Ducati Panigale 916 you’re roaring around on, apparently.”

  Shite. Double shite.

  “Oliver, that’s a forty-five-thousand-dollar bike.”

  “Yeah,” I wink. “And this one’s customized too.”

  Fuck it, when it’s already blowing up in your face, might as well lean into it.

  Shepherd chuckles and looks away. “Buddy, where the fuck are you getting that kind of cash?”

  I shrug. “Like you said, I’m winning.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Dude, it’s Dark Water Falls with a bunch of knuckleheads like Bryce Barnes, not Daytona. C’mon, man, just level with me.”

  I know I should. I know keeping shit like this from Shep and the rest of the club goes against the whole reason we even formed this group up in the first place. This isn’t a group of solo dudes who like bikes, it’s a club. It’s a brotherhood. Or at least, that’s the idea. But I know this shit I’m in is my own doing, which means it’s my mess to clean up.

  “It’s just racing, brother, that’s all.”

  “You in deep with this Barnes guy?”

  I shake my head. “Nah. C’mon, I’m not that stupid, am I?”

  Yes. Yes, I am, apparently.

  “The guy is more dangerous than people give him credit for, Oliver,” Shepherd grunts. “I’ve been asking around about him. He’s a dipshit, but he’s not someone I’d willingly fuck with. It’s not an accident that he’s running the show over in Dark Water Falls.”

  “It’s just a bit of fun, okay?” I growl.

  Shepherd frowns and nods at my neck. It’s been five days since the Rosebud, and making Delphine come on my cock in the bathroom. Since then, we’ve met at the diner four times when she was closing, the parking lot of the grocery store in downtown Dark Water Falls twice, over my bike on the side of a road somewhere about a dozen times, and one cheeky time in the garden outside of Barnes’s house.

  And what can I say? Delphine gets… physical. If we keep this up at this rate, I’m going to need to start wearing football pads on my bloody neck.

  Shep clears his throat. “That a ‘bit of fun’ too?”

  “Obviously.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. I grin back, but it’s to cover the tension in my jaw. Delphine is not just a “bit of fun.” She’s so much more than that that it actually scares me. It’s been less than a week, and I’m bloody lost with this girl. Twisted, shook, royally fucked. It’s a disaster waiting to happen, and I can’t fucking stop.

  “Oliver.”

  I look up to see Shep looking at me curiously.

  “Dude, where’d you go just now?”

  “Huh?”

  “You got that hardcore look on your face you get sometimes.”

  I shrug. “Mate, you don’t know what you’re—”

  Shepherd laughs. “Oh fuck off, Oliver. I’ve known you too long a
nd been through way too much shit with you to get the bullshit responses. But, fine. Since I do know you so well, you’re obviously playing this close to the chest.”

  “Figured that out all by yourself, did you?”

  Shepherd flips me off, and we both grin.

  “Why is she a big secret?”

  I shrug.

  “Is it a she?” I roll my eyes, and he chuckles. “Hey, just checking.”

  “Mate, if I switch teams, you’ll be the first I tell, don’t you fret.”

  He laughs loudly. “I can’t quit you, Gauge!”

  I snort and look down at the fire pit.

  “Oliver.”

  “Shepherd.”

  He sighs. “Seriously, why is this such a secret? She married?”

  I scowl. “No.”

  “But she’s with someone.”

  My frown deepens. “No… no.”

  “Why does that sound like yes?”

  I shake my head. “It’s a fucked situation.”

  He laughs. “With you? I’m shocked. Hell, knowing you, it’s probably Barnes’s sister or—”

  His face pales.

  “Awwww no, Oliver.”

  I clear my throat and look away, running my fingers through my hair.

  “Is it his fucking sister?”

  “Don’t think he’s got one,” I grunt.

  “Girlfriend?”

  “If I say it’s complicated again, are you going to keep giving me shit?”

  “Brother,” he growls. “I meant what I said about that guy. He’s not as bumbling as he looks. That fucker is dangerous. Dark Water Falls might be a shit-heel town, but that spot at the top of the crime food chain there is a coveted spot, and he didn’t get there by tripping over his own feet.”

  His eyes narrow as he shakes his head.

  “And you’re fucking his girl?”

  “She’s not his bloody girl,” I snarl.

  Shep sighs, sitting back and pushing his hand through his hair. “Fuck, man.”

  “I’m taking care of it.”

  “Oh, wonderful, that makes me feel so much better,” he mutters dryly.

  “I’ve mentioned that you’re a right prick before, right?”

  He grins. “Once or twice. Oliver—”

  “It doesn’t and it won’t involve the club,” I growl. “I can promise you that.”