Chase (Hell's Exiles MC Book 1)

by Sassie Lewis

  Wiping the excess ink away she looked at the piece; it was almost done. Just needed a little something. Without asking his permission she grabbed a fresh needle and a pot of vibrant green. Ignoring the fact he only wanted grays, Nessa added a few dots of color to the rider’s eyes. She wouldn’t analyze the fact Chase had green eyes. She was just doing what the art told her to. With one last wipe, Nessa pushed her stool back and rolled her neck, working out the kink forming there.

  “You want to check it out before I cover it, Chase?”

  His eyes snapped open, the look filling them sending a shiver down her spine, the intensity behind them scaring her with how much it turned her on. Why the hell was he so pissed? He hadn’t even looked at her work but for some reason he looked like he wanted to kill her. Nessa’s heart rate quickened and she got ready to bolt from the room before she did something really stupid. Standing, she spun on her heels and slammed into Frog. Christ had she ever been so happy to see her boss? Yes and no warred within her mind, but she couldn’t pick one as the winning answer to that particular question.

  Fucking asshole biker, screwing with my hormones.

  “Hell girl, was wondering if you were ever going to finish.”

  Heart rate returning to a semi-normal state, Nessa looked at her watch. Shit, no wonder she had a stiff neck, she’d been hunched over Chase’s leg for five and a half-hours. Frog pushed further into the room. His presence lightened the tension she’d felt building between her and Chase, freeing her from the coiling desire to either flee, fight or fuck. She couldn’t be sure which had been directing her.

  Turning, she found Chase finally looking at the work she’d done instead of giving her that death stare. “You added color.”

  It wasn’t a question but she answered him anyway. “Yeah. It was missing something. Don’t fret, biker boy, all your sweet butts aren’t going to think you’re a pansy ’cause you’ve got a tiny bit of color in one of your tats.”

  “Don’t fucking care what anyone thinks. And the sweet butts won’t be seeing it anyway.”

  That confused Nessa. What… didn’t the man bother to take his pants all the way off when he was screwing his sluts? And what the fuck did she care? Gah. Shifting the gears in her mind she went about completing Chase’s aftercare. At least with Frog in the room, she wouldn’t be tempted to do something silly. Say like, climb on Chase’s lap and see what her work looked like covered by her ass cheeks.

  “Fucking hell, Nessa. I take that back about never finishing. Shit girl, this would’ve taking most artists a few sittings. You haven’t even over worked the skin.”

  Tears wanted to well at Frog’s compliment. All her life she’d loved art, but between her parents and the school’s art teachers, she’d never felt good enough. It was odd having Frog praise her all the time.

  “Umm, thanks.”

  “Oh and talk to me later about that piece from yesterday. I have someone willing to come out of retirement just for you.”

  She couldn’t think about that yet. The piece wasn’t ready. As she told him, something wasn’t right about it. But it was nice knowing that when the time came she’d have someone who could ink it for her.

  Caressing the protective padding over Chase’s leg, Nessa froze when he held her hand against his skin and wouldn’t let go. “That piece from yesterday, that for you?”

  Confused by the tone in his voice, Nessa looked up at him. He still looked like he wanted to kill her but his voice was raspy with something she wasn’t sure she wanted to think about. Her hormones really didn’t need any more encouragement than his mere presence.

  “Yeah. But it’s not right, yet.”

  “It’s a damn big piece, Vanessa.”

  Snatching her hand away Nessa stood, her big brain—not the throbbing one between her legs—was once again in full control of her actions. “My name’s Nessa. Check your tattoo when you get home. If you look hard enough you’ll find it written in there.” Chase opened his mouth before closing it again, while Frog openly laughed.

  “You right to clean up, Frog or you want me to finish up? I’m sure Tommy’s waiting out there for me.”

  Frog’s, “go home,” was over shadowed by Chase’s, “Who the fuck is Tommy?” Feeling a tiny, or a lot, bitchy, Nessa slapped her hand down on top of Chase’s freshly tattooed skin before racing through the door. Skidding to a halt she yelled over her shoulder. “He’s just the latest in a long line of cocks I’ve ridden, asshole. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  At Chase’s bellow—seriously it was loud enough to shake the walls—Nessa didn’t worry about grabbing her purse. She just ran straight out the front door and dived onto the back of Tommy’s bike. Laughing all the way home.

  Chapter Six

  Chase raced after her as she screamed out about some guy named Tommy being her lover, only stopping when Frog caught hold of him and spun him back into the shop.

  “Chill, Chase. Tommy’s one of our prospects. Ya dad has him or one of the others pick her up at the end of her shifts. Now stop embarrassing your club and go put some goddamn clothes on.”

  Looking down at himself Chase realized he was only wearing a T-shirt and his underwear. The fucking girl was screwing with his head. Spinning on his socked feet, he stormed back to the room where he’d spent five hours fighting to keep his hands off her. It had been a bastard of a time waiting for her to finishing inking him. Five hours, of her scent filling his head, while the touch of her hands sent all the blood in his body directly to his cock. The moment she finished he had planned on claiming her. Taking her cherry, if that’s what it took. But the sassy bitch had taken off on him before he could claim her. And fuck, his leg stung where she’d slapped him. He’d see how much she laughed when he put her over his knee and made her ass glow with the sting of his palm.

  “Damn, you’ve got it bad.”

  “What?” Too busy dreaming about reddening Vanessa’s ass, he’d forgotten Frog was in the room.

  “Well I’m pretty fuckin’ sure that hard-on ain’t for me. And jeez man, the tension between you two is thick enough to choke on.”

  “Then why the fuck did you come in here?”

  “’Cause, Chase, this ain’t the clubhouse, it’s my shop. And that girl is one hell of an artist. Look, it’s not my business but brother to brother, don’t screw around with Nessa. She’s not one of the club girls.”

  Chase’s anger spiked. He was horny as hell and he wasn’t just Frog’s brother, he was the fucking Vice President. “You’re right Frog, it’s none of ya fucking business, brother.” Tugging a few hundred-dollar bills from his wallet, Chase slapped them down on the bed.

  “Make sure Vanessa gets the extra.” With that he stormed out of the shop and mounted up. At least finding her was going to be easy.

  Pulling up at his childhood home, he’d debated about leaving it for the night. Letting her think she’d gotten away. He wanted her bad but he also didn’t want his sister interfering when he took Vanessa. Because there was no doubt he was going to have her. Staring up at the house he watched as a light flickered on. A smirk twitched at his lips and his still hard cock did a happy knock against his jeans. He’d assumed she would stay in Becca’s room, but it looked like he already had Vanessa in his bed; just not the one he currently slept in.

  Climbing off his bike he snuck into the house the same way he used to when he was sixteen. By the time he’d jimmied open the window she was no longer there. Her sweet scent filled the space, and a basket of her washing sat at the foot of the bed.

  Resting beside the door, Chase waited for her to come back. The sound of the shower clicking off had him holding his breath while his cock thumped in time with the echo of her approaching footsteps. Wearing only a towel, Vanessa pushed through the door, her eyes widening and her mouth opening as she stared up at him. In one step, Chase closed the door, placed a hand over her open mout
h and pushed her up against the wall.

  Burying his nose into her wet hair, he breathed the scent of her shampoo in. It was some kind of flowery smell he recognized, but fuck if he knew what it was called. All he knew was it smelled damn-fucking-good on her, and had him wanting to cover himself in her scent.

  “Don’t scream, Vanessa. Not unless you want my dad to come in here, guns blazing.” She nodded, the movement rubbing her sweet fragrance deeper into his skin.

  Chase slowly slid his hand from her mouth down to the side of her neck. Her skin felt softer than butter under his rough fingers.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Her minty breath whispered over his face.

  Good she wasn’t yelling.

  “Did you really think I was just going to let you go, Vanessa?”

  She blinked big-blue eyes at him. “Go where? I have no freakin’ clue what you’re talking about?”

  “You ran out of the shop—”

  “Look, Chase if you’re pissed about my name in your tattoo, stop stressing. Okay, yeah, if you know what you’re looking for you’ll see my signature. But really, only other tattooists will notice it, and most of us do it. All the tatts I’ve worked have the letter N in them somewhere. But I’m serious, no one will ever notice it.”

  Chase snorted at her ramblings. She could put her name on him anytime she wanted. He’d already figured out why he’d gone off the deep-end the day before. Vanessa was his, had been for years. She just didn’t know it yet.

  “I don’t care about having your name on me, Vanessa. I’m pissed because you thought it was funny to run out of there yelling about some guy being your lover, and—”

  “Why the hell would that bother you, Chase? You’re confusing the fuck out of me.”

  “Because you’re mine, Vanessa. And if I find out Tommy’s touched you in any way, he’s a dead man.” Chase ran his hand further down her skin, teasing the tips of his fingers over where the towel wrapped around the swells of her tits.

  Vanessa opened her mouth, closed it then opened it again. Lifting a hand she rubbed the side of her head. “Pardon? I think I’ve got water in my ears, can you repeat that?”

  “I said you’re mine, Vanessa.”

  “Yep, I heard right.” The words were more a mumble than a response to him. Pure anger flashed across her face turning her pretty eyes to a stormy gray. Then she slapped his chest. “The name’s Nessa, moron. Now get the fuck out.”

  Squirming against him she tried to push him away. That was never happening. His woman was going to learn quickly that there were two things he’d never walk away from: his club and her. Grabbing her hands, he cuffed her wrists in one of his and held them above her head while pressing his hips into her soft stomach, holding her in place. She could carry on all she liked, fight him, Chase wasn’t going to listen. Not when she wanted the same thing. Her words might be telling him to leave her alone but her body was saying something entirely different. Her hard nipples stabbed into his chest and the smell of her wet pussy teased his nose. And if she really wanted him gone, all she had to do was raise her voice.

  “Let me the fuck go.”

  “Never.”

  “Why the hell are you doing this, Chase? You don’t even like me.”

  “Why the hell are you fighting it so hard?”

  She stopped struggling and looked directly in his eyes. “Oh, let me think…hmm… Let’s try this one. You’re my best friend’s jerky older brother.”

  “Nope, not buying it. You used to follow me around, begging for a ride on my bike.”

  “Yeah, well you cured me of that silly infatuation. Now let me go.”

  “No. Tell me what the fuck I’ve done to piss you off so badly?”

  He needed to know, because under her anger he could see sadness. Never before had he given a fuck about a chick’s emotions, but with Vanessa he found he wanted to know everything. And he didn’t like seeing tears fill her eyes. Anger he could deal with, sadness not so much.

  “Let me see if I can jog that idiotic memory of yours. Hmm…okay I think I’ve got it. ‘Go home tubby no one wants your fat ass around.’”

  Fuck! Chase knew exactly why he’d been a prick that day. Letting one of her hands go he directed it to his throbbing cock. Vanessa jolted as he pushed her palm firmly against the straining denim. “You feel that, Nessa?” She tried to pull her hand away but he wouldn’t let her. “I was a bastard that day, ’cause at fifteen you had a thirty-year-old man hard as stone.”

  She blinked up at him, confusion clear in her eyes. “You’re lying!”

  Directing her hand he continued to rub it over his cock. Closing his eyes at the feel of her finally touching him, Chase let the memory of that day flood back. “It was fucking hot as Hades outside. Me and the boys had just gotten back from a ride and we’d come over here to use the pool. You and Becca were hanging out back. Becca started pissin’ and moaning that we were there but my focus was solely on you. You were wearing these tiny, torn shorts and a yellow bikini top. Every one of your curves on display for my boys to see.”

  “Oh.”

  Opening his eyes Chase looked down at her. Her eyebrows had risen, crinkling her forehead. Her apparent shock at his detailed memory was… cute. “But you were so mean to me. Angry even.”

  Letting go of her hands he wasn’t surprised when she didn’t move the one he’d pressed to his cock away. She shivered against him as he leaned down and ran his tongue over the upper swell of one of her tits. Catching the droplet of water sliding from her hair.

  A soft moan preceded her words. “I–I still don’t understand?”

  Dragging his hands down her sides Chase took hold of her lush ass and lifted her against the wall. Confused or not, Vanessa wrapped her legs around him, her arms twining around his neck. Grinding his cock against her center, he hissed at the heat radiating through the denim of his jeans. Fuck, she scorched him.

  “Think about it, Nessa. How do you think it would have gone down if I’d done this to you three years ago?”

  “Wh–what’s wrong with this?” she wiggled in his arms, rubbing herself closer to him.

  The damn woman was killing him. He’d made a promise to himself that he wasn’t going to take her even if he needed her bad. But he wasn’t going to have her with his family around to interfere. Besides, he wanted her in his home. His bed.

  Ignoring her tempting body, he gritted his teeth and went on. “Seriously think about it, Vanessa. If I hadn’t run you off that day I would have tackled you, and had my cock buried in this warm pussy before either of us could blink. You were only fucking fifteen, and I was damn well old enough to know better.”

  Done explaining his actions to her, Chase finally took her mouth with his, their tongues fighting for control. Vanessa kissed him with a passion that had Chase rocking his hips harder against hers. He hadn’t dry humped a chick since he was a teenager, but with her moaning and writhing against him, he had no desire to stop. Her hands dug into his hair holding him close as she rode out her pleasure. Pulling away from her mouth, Chase watched as her orgasm hit. Fuck she was beautiful. Her face was flushed pink, her white teeth sunk into her bottom lip and those pretty blue eyes were squeezed tightly closed. Clenching his ass muscles together he stopped his balls from spewing their release.

  He had to go because if he stayed longer there was no way he’d stop himself from fully taking her. Carrying Nessa to the bed, Chase pulled back the covers and laid her down. kissing her once more before stepping away from the tempting goddess. Her eyes were closed and a soft smile tipped at her lips.

  Not bothering to climb back out the window, Chase opened the bedroom door and found his dad waiting on the other side.

  Chapter Seven

  Following his dad down the stairs and into the kitchen, Chase’s cock protested with each step he took. He just wanted to go home and jack off
to the memory of Vanessa rocking apart in his arms. But it seemed his old man wanted to talk.

  Dropping into the kitchen chair, Chase waited while his dad grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told Nessa if she screamed, Quin Anderson would come in, guns blazing. The man currently had one holstered down the back of his jeans—his shirt not enough to conceal the weapon.

  Slamming the beer down in front of him, his dad finally spoke. “There a reason you broke into my house, boy?”

  “Forgot my key.” It had been his standard response when he was younger.

  “Smart ass. Want a bag of peas to put on that thing?” His dad tilted his beer in the direction of Chase’s hard-on.

  “Smart ass,” he threw back, shifting in his seat, trying to give his cock some space.

  “Ya know she’s the reason I sent you north, right?”

  It was one of Hell’s Exiles rules. If you were born into the club you had to spend time with a different chapter. Every member still had to go through being a prospect, but those born into it were shipped off for a few years. If you came back that was up to you. But if you wanted to stay part of the club you needed to do your time.

  “Nope. But I had wondered why in the middle of organizing a run you sent me away.”

  “Yeah well, she was fucking fifteen and I saw the way you watched her.”

  “I was well aware of her age. But she’s legal now. And mine. So if you’re thinking of sending me off again, Vanessa is coming with me.”

  “Mind how ya speak to me, boy. Those aren’t father son words. Those sound like a direct challenge to your Prez.”

  Staring at the other man, Chase worked to get his shit together. Wasn’t easy when Vanessa’s musky scent clung to him and his cock was still rock hard. “Sorry, Prez.”