by Raven Dark
“I didn’t think I would see you again,” I shake out.
He blinks, and his nostrils flare.
Yeah, bad move, Anne.
“Are you shitting me?” he growls.
“Vicious—”
“Why did you fucking lie to me?”
When I don’t answer fast enough, he closes what’s left of the distance between us, which is to say his chest is almost pressing against my nose. I back up and bump into the wall, giving a start.
He closes in again.
“Are you married, Anne?” he snaps.
“What?” The words are like a spear going through me. I knew he’d think the worst, but I hadn’t thought of that. “Oh God, Vicious, no!”
“Are you lying again? You got a husband in that house you don’t want me to know about? Did I just fuck another man’s wife?”
He looks so disgusted with me, it crushes me.
“No! Vicious, for God sake, I’m nineteen!”
“A boyfriend then. Is there another man?”
More hot tears splash. “No… Jesus, Vicious, stop. It…” I sigh and force myself to meet his eyes as humiliation rolls through me. “It’s…my mother.”
His mouth makes an Oh, and for a second, I swear I see amusement under the irritation in his eyes before he scoffs. He doesn’t think I’m married anymore. He thinks I’m something almost as painful.
“Anne,” he drawls, “what are you, fucking twelve?”
The implication in his words cut like a knife, playing on all my worst fears. The age gap between us looms like a chasm. I’m sure I know what he’s thinking. I wasn’t mature enough, wasn’t ready for a real man or a real relationship.
“Vicious, I’m sorry. It’s just that with my mother, it’s complicated.” My eyes flick to his cut, to the patches there, to the tats that cover his arms. “What I did was stupid and wrong, and I’m sorry I lied, but if my mother knew about us…”
“Aw fuck.” He shakes his head at the sky. When I don’t continue, he nods. “Go on. Say it.”
I close my eyes and make myself say the words.
“If she knew I was dating a guy like you, she’d kill me. And besides, you’re nearly old enough to be my dad.”
“And you care what the fuck she thinks?”
Shit. I’ve never felt so low, or so ashamed. Vicious might be a biker, and he might be a Heathen, but he’s never done anything remotely bad to me. He’s been wonderful, doing nothing but make me feel like a queen, cherished and cared for. I should be stronger than this. Strong enough not to care what others think. He deserves better than this.
“Vicious, you don’t get it.” I shake my head. “You don’t know what she’s like. She’d have made trouble for you.”
The response seemed like such a sensible thing, but as soon as I say it, it sounds silly.
He lets out a bitter laugh. “Do I look like I’d give two shits?” He pushes me further against the wall and lays his big hands on the brick, caging me in. “I’ve been in a lot worse trouble than your mother could bring on me. Trust me, Anne, I’ve handled the worst type of guys. I can handle an uptight helicopter mom.”
If the situation hadn’t been so heartbreaking, and if Vicious didn’t look so intimidating right now, I’d have laughed.
“Were you afraid of what she’d do to me? Or are you just too immature to deal with us?” he asks.
The first volt of anger shoots through me at that. He’s right, but does he have to make me sound so ridiculously childish?
“Hey!” I shove his arms away. “I already said I was sorry. I shouldn’t have deceived you, and if I made you feel like I’m ashamed of you, I’m sorry about that too. But if you think I’m that immature, you can walk the hell away!”
He puts his hands more firmly on the brick wall. “Oh, no. No, no.” he murmurs. “You’re not getting out of this that easily.” He lays his fingers on my lips, and the heat of them almost scalds my skin. “You fucked up. We’ll deal with it, but you’re mine, and I’m not walking away.”
I swallow. There’s a threat in his eyes I can’t miss. What the hell is he going to do?
“Wait…deal with it? How?”
He drops his hands from the wall and backs up a pace. “If you want to behave like a child, Anne, I will treat you like one. Turn around.”
“What?” The order is so out of the blue, so absurd, I can’t begin to guess what he’s up to. One thing I do know, I’m not stupid enough to do it. I’ve clearly pissed off this leather-clad beast. No one with half a brain puts their back to an angry bear.
He makes a circle with his finger. His face is so calm now, it’s almost more intimidating than his anger. “Turn around and hike up your skirt.”
My mouth falls open. His words are so shocking, I can barely process them. He expects me to turn around and bare my ass to him right here in this alley where anyone could walk by, where Sandra could walk out at any moment?
Sandra is probably still getting it on with Skeet in the back room. She isn’t likely to come out, but if we make enough noise… Why does the thought that she might see us only make me wetter?
Worse, I know what Vicious intends to do once I obey. The thought pisses me off, but it also sends a confusing heat right to my core.
I glare at him. “Absolutely not. Vicious, I’m going inside now. You have no right to—” I start for the door.
Big mistake.
The door isn’t even open before Vicious is on me.
One of his big palms thumps against the door, keeping it shut, while the other shoves me up against it. My back is to him, my breasts flattened to the door, the cool steel soaking through my uniform shirt. I hardly feel the chill with the heat of Vicious pressing into me, his chest pressing into my back.
I let out a startled whimper, lust bolting through me. I’m a little scared, but I’m also completely turned on. I squirm against him.
“Vicious, what the hell are you doing?” I squeak. “You have no right to do this—” For all my indignation, need hammers into me.
His fist captures my hair, tugging it just enough to take control. The slight sting makes me groan, makes my sex ache. “I have every right,” he growls in my ear. “You’re mine. My woman doesn’t lie to me.”
“Oh, my God. You bastard.”
“Scared, Anne?” he purrs. His other hand stills my hip, pinning me to the door.
“Are you actually going to do this right here?” Vicious has proven he has no shame and cares nothing for social graces, but this takes the cake. I hate that I sound as horny as I feel.
“Hell, yes.” His fingers slide over the curve of my ass, down to the hem of my skirt. There’s no one near the alley, and I’m pretty sure I can hear Sandra moaning inside. Shit. Her best pal in the world is about to get her ass whooped by a biker, and she’s in there having a sex fest. Great. I’ll have to talk to that girl about her damn timing.
Vicious’ hand stills, his fingers curled around the hem of my skirt. Waiting… but for what?
My breath freezes in my lungs, my heart pounding like a drum in my ears. The independent, fiercely modern girl in me wants to stop him, smack him, tell him this is wrong, but there is a part of me that more than wants what he’s doing. It needs what’s coming, even though I can’t fathom why.
I lean into him and drop my head against the door, my hands pressed to the steel. I’m waiting too.
Vicious shoves my shirt up to my waist. I pant and moan, half trying to squirm into him, half trying to escape the pain I know is coming. He presses his hips into mine, flattening me to the door and trapping my ass in place. His cock jabs into my back, thick and long and hard as iron.
Damn, this is hot.
He yanks the back of my panties down, grinding into my bare ass. I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
“Fuck.” He breathes in and out slowly against my neck. “You’re so fucking sexy, you make me crazy.”
Those long, silver-decked fingers of his slip around my waist and down
between my legs, over my exposed sex. Wetness slicks them. Jesus, I’m soaked.
Vicious rumbles his approval and strokes my aching clit, both relieving and intensifying the ache at once. His fingers tease, and when I rub against him, they barely touch.
“Vicious, please…” I don’t know if I’m begging him to keep going or to stop.
“Please what?” His tongue darts into my ear. “You’re so wet. You want to come, Anne? You want me to make you come?”
There’s no point in lying to him. “God, yes.”
“You lied to me. You’re a bad girl, Anne. Tell me why I should let you come.” His fingers stroke and then barely touch again. I’m so close I want to sob. I let out a helpless mewl. I’m at his mercy, and I love it.
Vicious slips his hand around and down to the slope of my ass. He cups one cheek hard. I whimper and try to grab at his hand, to bring his fingers back where they were.
“No, no, no. Hands on the door.” I can hear his smile. “You get what I give you.”
I pant and curse but put my hands on the door like I’m told. He pulls back just enough. Then his palm swats across one ass cheek, hard. I cry out, and the sound rings through the alley, high and no doubt easily heard by Sandra, and anyone else on the street.
Now his hand roams over my ass, heating one cheek then the other. He squeezes them and swats the other cheek.
“Why are you being spanked, Anne?”
My eyes close as a mix of shame and an absurd gratefulness washes over me. “Because I lied to you.”
“Good girl.” He swats a few more times, changing the pressure between soft and hard. Somehow, the mix of stinging and heat makes me hotter. I almost come.
I can’t believe this is happening. This hotter than hell biker has bared my backside to him as if he owns me, right in the middle of the alley, and now he’s punishing me for lying to him as if this is all par for the course with him.
“All this time, I thought you were the nice, sweet, good small town girl.” His voice is pure wickedness. He licks my ear. “But you aren’t, are you?”
I shake my head. Tears spill from my eyes. “No.” My voice comes out sad and filled with shame.
He swats my ass and the sting makes me cry. The tears are therapeutic, as healing as his hand across my cheeks. “No. You’re a liar, Anne. Aren’t you? My beautiful little liar.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“I’m a liar.”
I should be mad, but instead, I’m getting hotter. I love the implications in his words. I’m the bad girl that deserves what I get.
Vicious’ hand comes down across my ass three times, one cheek, then the other, then the first again, the sting taking me higher. It’s strange, but despite his anger with my deception, his voice is laced with approval. Why?
He massages my ass and it takes away the sting. I pant and lay my head against his shoulder, barely able to stand. His arm bands around my waist, holding me up.
“There. It’s over, beautiful.”
Relief sweeps through me, relief and an odd feeling of being released. I’ve done a horrible thing, betraying him, and he’s forgiven me. It’s more than I deserve. I sob, and he brushes my hair back, holding me close.
“Shh. It’s all over.”
I nod mutely.
“Your ass looks so perfect, all pink from my hand.”
“I kind of hate you right now.” But also love him a little.
He kisses my neck. “No, you don’t.” His fingers stroke my clit again, renewing the indescribable ache growing there. “I had no intention of fucking you like this right now. Not here.”
The air fills with the clink of his belt, the growl of his zipper, and the sounds alone make me wetter than ever. Then he jerks my shirt from the waist of my skirt, shoving it and my bra up. My breasts spill out and he rolls each hardened nipple between his fingers until I whimper with need.
“But I’m so fucking hard right now. If I don’t come inside your sweet pussy right here, I’ll only end up crawling into your bedroom tonight and fucking you hard enough to break your damn bed.”
I can totally see him doing it, too. Along with the tornado that would result when my mother found out. “Oh, God, no. I’d die.”
“Here it is, then.” His cock bounces against my ass before I feel his fist pumping it slowly, up and down. My nipples peak until they hurt, my sex clenching hungrily.
Vicious grabs my hips and walks me backwards away from the door, then bends me over. “Hands on the door.” His voice is rough and sexy as all get out.
I obey without even thinking and flatten my palms to the door, bracing myself. I’m so wet, I’ll come with the slightest touch to my clit. There’s no way I could deny this man anything.
The head of Vicious’ cock presses against my sex, thick and hard and teasing the ache there. I pant and wriggle into him. He thrusts in deep, a single, hard, greedy stroke.
He slides inside me as if I’m made of hot butter. A growl erupts from him, and he grinds into me, rocking my hips and groaning hungrily.
Oh my God. He’s an animal, a savage, completely without shame. He’s tearing down all the good girl walls I have, obliterating the propriety I’ve clung to my whole life. I want those walls down. I want to be what he needs, wild and free and without rules.
“Vicious,” I moan.
The need in my voice seems to rip away the last of his control. He pounds me hard and fast, his hips slapping mine, a primitive drumbeat that fills the night. The door rattles and I rock my hips, clawing at the door and crying out.
“Fuck, Anne. So perfect.” One of his hands fists my hair, pulling my head back. I curse in delight. The other rolls and pinches my nipples, sending me careening toward the edge of sweet release. He’s rough and mean, and I love the way he owns me.
I press my lips closed and whimper in my throat, a high keening sound.
“Mm, yeah. You like that, don’t you?”
I make the same noise, but louder.
With one hand still tugging my head back, Vicious’ fingers slip down between my legs, strumming my sopping pussy, intensifying the sensations as he fucks me like the wild man he is.
“Shit, Vicious, oh, shit, shit, shit!”
“Fuck, yes. Come for me, beautiful. Come on my cock.” He strums faster, his hips beating against mine.
I cry out, almost a scream. White lights explode across my vision and I come apart, bucking frantically.
A few savage thrusts and he growls, his cock twitches inside me, and then he pulls out. He fist-pumps his cock, and liquid heat spread across my ass cheeks.
I glance back at him. “Did you just come on my ass, Vicious?”
“Oh yeah.”
He wipes me off with his handkerchief, cleaning up his mess. “Next time, I’ll come in your mouth.”
“Oh, Christ.” That’s hot. I’ve never even entertained the idea of a man’s cock in my mouth, and the thought makes me nervous, but I have no doubt he’ll make me an expert before long.
Vicious spins me around and guides me back to the door. He does his pants up and then pins me against the steel with his huge frame, and it feels fantastic.
“Would you like that, beautiful?” he whispers, pulling up my panties and settling my clothes back in place. “You want to suck me off?”
I bite my lip and nod, hardly able to believe I’m doing so. He’d said that so plainly, so shamelessly, I feel a little envious of his boldness. I would do anything for him. I want him to show me how to do everything he likes, exactly the way he likes it.
His thumb swipes my lips, his eyes fixating on them hungrily, as if he’s already imagining what it will feel like to do to my mouth the same thing he just did to my pussy.
“I’ve corrupted you.” His eyes dance. “I get the feeling you never would have lied like you did last night before you met me.”
“I wouldn’t have. Vicious, I’m so, so sorry.”
He nods and tips my chin up. “All rig
ht, let’s just get one thing straight, and then I won’t bring it up again.” His tone is gentle, but firm. “You belong to me, but you have to be honest with me, Anne. Always. No secrets. Ever. You have to trust me enough to know I can handle whatever happens. Understood?”
He forgives me. My heart swells until it feels like it will burst.
“Yes. So much, yes.”
He brushes my lips with his and kisses me long and hard until I melt into him, clinging to his shoulders and back. “Good girl.” He turns me around and pushes me gently toward the door. “Now get inside. I’ll see you on Monday.”
I open the door but turn back to him. “Monday?” My stomach dances with excitement.
“Yeah. We have somewhere to go in the afternoon.”
“Oh? Where?”
“We’ll discuss it then. Get gone before I bend you over again.”
Whatever it is he has planned, it sounds serious. Where he’d be taking me that would be so important, I can’t imagine, but I promised him I would trust him.
I disappear into the restaurant with a spring in my step and a smile plastered on my face.
The smile is still there long after Vicious is gone.
6
The Problem with Birdie
Vicious picks me up early on Monday afternoon. My mother is away at a culinary conference until Wednesday, so I don’t have to worry about her seeing him ride up. Which is good, because I still have no idea how we’ll handle the inevitable.
I run out to meet him and happily hop on his bike, slipping on the helmet he’s given me. We ride out of town, but he won’t tell me where we’re going.
Whiskey is in the middle of nowhere, so there are plenty of places he could be taking me that the town doesn’t have. A movie theatre, an afternoon at the arcade, his favorite restaurant. All would make it necessary to take the hour-long drive into the next town, Hamden. The thing is, whatever his plans are, they’d sounded too important to be a normal afternoon date.
It’s my day off, which means we have the whole day to spend together. I can’t wait.
When we get into Hamden, we don’t pull up at any place I would have thought of. Across the street from where he’s parked his bike, there’s a clinic, a small, one-story structure with an emblem that had a baby on it.