OWNED: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Blood Warriors MC)

by Naomi West

  “You guys get on outta here,” Cutter said, waving them both off, “We'll lock up and see you at the clubhouse in a bit.”

  “Ain't gonna argue with that,” Smalls said, sounding winded and beat half to death. He immediately turned to the front door and pushed through. “See y'all in a bit,” he said back over his shoulder.

  “Yup,” Squirrel said, seconding his sentiments as he followed right on Smalls's heels. “We'll have a cold one for y'all. Promise.”

  After both men had left, Cutter turned to her. She could see the exhaustion in his eyes, but she could see something else, something that resided even deeper. “I wanted to thank you,” Cutter said, after a while, his voice low and smooth. He took a step or two, coming closer to her.

  There had been something about the way they'd worked together. He'd known what order she was about to put in before she'd even mentioned them. He'd have a table's food ready just when she needed the most. And, somehow, she'd known exactly when he was about to tell her something was low or running out. It was like they were in the same head-space during their shift, like they were working from the same consciousness. It had been almost magical. And, she could almost feel it now, that same sense of connection from when they'd been turning tables together.

  “For what?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

  “Not letting me give in, for one,” he said, taking another step closer to her. “And, second, for your help.”

  That connection was greater than just mind reading, though. She could tell from the way his hips were, how he held his hands, and cocked his head that he had a special way to thank her.

  “Yeah?” she asked, taking a step closer to him.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

  She didn't resist. His arms were like steel cords, despite his exhaustion, and she felt safe and under his power at the same time. She gazed up at him, her lips parted. She'd never wanted a man as badly as she wanted Cutter in that moment. He reached up, brushed hair out of her eyes, and trailed a fingertip down her cheek. She licked her lips as he made her wait. She just wanted to feel his mouth on hers, to feel his hands on her body.

  “Thank you,” he said again, lowering his lips to hers.

  She groaned as his lips crushed hers, as he pulled her into his body. She felt light as a feather in his arms. She knew she could collapse right then, and he'd have more than enough strength for both of them. As they kissed, she could feel him beginning to harden against her belly. She wanted him to show her just how thankful he was, and do it in the most pleasurable way possible.

  He opened his mouth a little, ran his tongue over her lips as his hands went lower and grabbed her tight jeans-clad butt. She opened her mouth, inviting him in. He didn't need much of an invitation, though. They kissed like that, in the kitchen, their hands roaming over each other's bodies. His lips broke away from hers and traveled down her neck as he began to tug at the hem of her shirt.

  Finally, good sense began to take hold of her, no matter how badly she wanted this. “Cutter,” she said as he began to pull her top over her head, “we can't do this here. What if someone walks in?”

  “Who's gonna walk in?” he growled. “I'm the owner, remember?”

  She giggled as he pulled her shirt up over her head with one hand and began to unsnap her jeans with the other. “Cutter!” she squealed again.

  “What?” he asked, his rough paw of a hand finding her crotch.

  Pleasure radiated through her body, and her knees went weak as she let loose a little moan. She wobbled a little, but Cutter's hand kept her standing as she leaned a hip up against the central prep table.

  “Like that?” he asked as he continued to stroke the front of her jeans, and the fires raging inside her. He ran his callused hands over her body, massaging and kneading her bare skin.

  “God yes,” she purred back, pressing herself into his hand as she put an arm around him. With her free hand, she reached down and unzipped the front of her jeans.

  He kissed her again as his hand slipped down the front of her panties, finding her sensitive little clit. She moaned as she sucked his tongue into her mouth and thrust her hips into his expert fingers. She wanted to feel him inside her, wanted to feel his hardness filling her. She reached down and stroked him through the front of his loose-fitting chef pants, stroking him lightly. He growled low in his throat as began to tug her pants down the swell of her hips.

  She'd never wanted to be out jeans so badly in her life. She kicked off her shoes and wiggled and shimmied, helping him to get her out of the confining denim. Together they worked them off her as he continued to cover her body in burning hot kisses, his teeth nipping at her skin. Soon, her jeans were pooled at her ankles, and she kicked them off from around her feet. “How do you want it?” he asked, that throaty growl filling her ears as his hands traveled over her nearly naked body.

  She reached down, stroked him with her small, delicate hand, then turned and bent over the prep counter, putting herself in the air. He dropped down behind her, and she could feel of his hot breath coming from behind. She spread her legs for him, widening her stance. The metal was cold, icy against her skin. She felt so deliciously wrong doing this here, of all places. More hot breath as his hand began to travel slowly up the inside of her thigh. She could feel herself getting wetter by the second, even without him doing anything. She moaned softly as she felt his breath on her sensitive lips.

  He began to slowly lick her, parting her folds with his tongue. She pushed back as she leaned forward, moaning as ecstasy began to slowly creep through her body. She could feel his tongue slip inside her, could feel it as it began to trace her lips and travel up to her starved-for-attention clit. He began to slowly, deliberately tickle the spot just below her clit, just off-center, with the tip of his tongue.

  Her whole body tensed and shook as pleasure erupted inside her. It was like liquid heat, running through her veins, threatening to pour out of her body, as he deftly began to bring her to her first orgasm. He slid a finger just inside her and found her g-spot.

  She erupted, then. “Oh, Cutter,” she cried, pushing herself back onto his hand and mouth, “oh, right there.” She nearly squealed as she felt her orgasm build inside her. Her body shook almost uncontrollably.

  He kept licking and kept rubbing her, not changing his movements or speed one bit. She felt her abs contracts, felt her body quake, as she came on his hand and tongue. She cried out, pushing back into him. He released her from her pleasurable torment, then, and slid his body up the backside of hers. Rough cotton, work-hardened muscle, and firm hands slid over her naked body.

  She went to move, to turn around to kiss him, but he put a hand gently, firmly, on her back. She sucked in a sharp, gasping breath and stayed where she was, not needing his words to tell her what he intended to do. Still bent over the table, with her ass stuck out to him, she heard his pants drop to the floor. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down her slit, parting her lips as he traced it up and down them. Nearly panting with excitement, she bit her lower lip and held back the urge to just backwards onto his manhood, to impale herself on his hardness. God, she wanted to, she wanted to so badly. He ran a hand over her ass, rubbed it teasingly, squeezed, and ran it up over her lower back until he landed on the latch of her bra.

  She looked back over her shoulder. “You just gonna play with me?”

  “Not quite,” he said as he reached up and unsnapped her bra. His hand traveled down beneath, ran up and over her flat stomach till it reached a pendulous breast. He lightly tweaked her sensitive nipple and rubbed his palm over the sensitive nub.

  “Cutter,” she groaned as she pushed her breast into his hand, filling it with her flesh. She pushed backwards, trying to slide onto him. At this point, and with how much he'd been teasing her, just the tip would be more than enough.

  His hand left trails of fire behind it as he crisscrossed her body, teasing her till she was practically be
gging for him to be inside her. He heard her pleas, though, and grabbed hold of her hips. He reached down between them and guided himself to her slick opening. She bit her lower lip, her breath coming hard and fast as her body anticipated what would come next. She needed this, needed it so badly. He pushed forward with his hips as he pulled her backwards onto his hard length. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she arched her back until her hands came up from where they'd been planted on the table and her bra slipped to the floor.

  “Do you like that?” he growled, his hand coming around to cup a full breast again.

  She nodded. “Y-y-yes,” she panted out as she felt herself filled with his warm hard length. She pushed back against him, encouraging him to go faster and deeper. She stroked herself up and down his shaft, craving more of his manhood.

  He pinched her nipple, tweaking it hard again as he pushed her forward, back onto the table.

  She planted both hands firmly again as she pushed herself against him, grinding herself on his cock. “Harder,” she plead. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

  Letting her breast drop, her grabbed both hips and pulled her, slowly at first, back onto his hard cock, stretching her fully. “You're still so tight,” he growled as he bottomed out inside her.

  “Please, just fuck me deep, Cutter!” she groaned. “Make me yours tonight!”

  He pulled her more roughly off his cock, then slammed her back on. She squawked in surprise as he rammed inside her, but the pleasure she felt filled her mouth and nothing but a dry gasp came out.

  He savagely pulled her on and off his cock, his hips slamming into hers as she braced against the prep table. “Do you like that?” he asked in that sultry growl of his, his words rising above the sound of their bodies coming together, “Do you love how I feel inside you?”

  “God yes,” she moaned, her head flung back. She could feel another orgasm, a giant white light of pleasure, tumbling towards her. Her legs were shaking her, body was sweating, and her consciousness seemed like it had been shoved from her body as the impending climax grew and grew inside. She growled like an animal, begged him to fuck her harder and harder.

  He pounded into her mercilessly, nearly moving the bolted down table as he plowed into her from behind. The bubble of warmth and carnal pressure loomed in front of her, so palpable she imagined she could just reach up and grab it from the sky. Her whole body cried out for this release, prayed for it, as Cutter had his way with her. At this moment, she needed this more than anything she'd ever needed.

  “I'm coming,” Cutter announced, picking up the pace as he went to finish himself off.

  Her whole body shook as he exploded inside her, filling her insides with his warmth. That bubble of heaven burst inside her body just as he did, and her mind filled with the heat of a volcano as she tightened and clenched around his manhood.

  She would have collapsed to the tiled floor, if not for Cutter's quick, strong arms that quickly swept her up and placed her on the prep table. The cold metal of the table was so soothing to her hot, naked skin. She lay there, catching her breath. Cutter went to pull out, but she could feel how hard he was still.

  “Please,” she groaned, “finish.”

  She saw him grin and shake his head as he continued to stroke in and out of her, his own eyes nearly rolling back as he rode out the last of his orgasm. She flexed herself around him, catching and stroking him as best she could with her insides. It was the closest to a ‘thank you’ she could manage for the best orgasm she'd ever had in her life.

  By the time, he was completely soft again, Liona was more than recovered.

  He pulled out of her and tucked himself away as she gathered up her clothes from the floor and table. He pulled her into his embrace, kissed her. Their tongues swirled around each other, again. But, Liona felt this kiss was somehow different. More complete than it had been before. She realized that their first kiss, just a little while ago, had felt the same. Something had changed between them, after this shift they'd just worked together. Something had shifted, become more complete.

  And, even though Liona was just coming out of the awful nightmare what was life with Wyland West, she knew that, somehow, she'd finally made the right choice.

  Chapter 28

  Cutter

  They rode back to the Vanguard clubhouse. The setting sun hung low in the western sky, warming them as they made their way down the back roads. Cutter's head reeled from all the contradictions happening in his life. Liona's arms wrapped tight around his body as she clung to the back of the bike, and he felt dizzy with newfound emotions.

  He was with her: literally, the girl of his dreams. After nearly a decade of pining after her, of trying to forget her and put her from his mind, he had her. But the universe couldn’t simply let him have just this one thing. Instead, it had to pile misery upon his contentment.

  When he'd spoken to Hunting earlier in the day the lawyer had laid it out for him. None of his guys were coming home. Not anytime soon, at least. And the cost of keeping up with all this was rising by the day. Soon, the MC would be tapped on cash. They wouldn't have the money to smoothly transition from gangsters to legitimate businessmen. Nor would they be able to afford the cost of the bail, if that even became available. Payments to the men's families would stop, and protection for the guys on the inside would cease.

  Everything seemed to be unraveling right before his eyes.

  He hadn't said anything to Squirrel, Smalls, or Liona. He hadn't wanted to burden them with such a bleak outlook, especially since he desperately needed them to be focused and in the moment. He also couldn't have them curl up in a ball and give up, like he almost had that morning. As he pulled into the nearly deserted clubhouse lot, he realized that he would have to tell them something, though.

  The situation was untenable. Dire, even. Squirrel and Smalls deserved to know what the future likely held in store for them. They had the right to choose their own destiny. That's what an MC was about. You take away a man's free will, you make him into a cog in a machine and just another walking corpse. You strip away his ability to choose, and you strip away what made him a man in the first place.

  “Hey,” Liona said as they climbed off the bike. Before he could respond, she'd slipped her arms beneath his jacket and pulled herself close to him.

  His chest swelled with emotion as she wrapped herself around him and snuggled up close. He realized she'd used some fruity shampoo, probably left behind by one of the club girls in his shower, and her hair smelled like peaches. “Hey, yourself,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and just holding her.

  She pulled back a little so she could look up at him. “I really care about you,” she said. “You know that, right?”

  He was actually a little surprised that she felt she had to tell him. But, it was still nice to hear. “Yeah,” he said, resting a hand on the back of her head, “I know, babe,” he said as he massaged her neck lightly, “I know.”

  “And, whatever happens,” she continued, her words slow and deliberate, “I want you by my side.”

  He listened to her words, taking them in. He nodded. He wanted to tell her he loved her, wanted to spill his guts and just put his emotions and needs into words. He froze as he remembered what had happened all those years ago when he'd put the choice in front of her. Worried about the past repeating itself, he kept a lid on the words he wanted to say and just smiled, instead. “I know,” he said. “Me too.”

  Even though they weren't the words he desperately wanted to use, they were good enough for her. She stood on tip toes and kissed him, embraced him tightly.

  He held her head against his chest, his heart racing double-time. Even as he cradled her to him, his eyes swept out over the nearly deserted parking lot, at the spaces that had once been filled with bikes. He leaned down, kissed the top of her head, and patted her ass with a free hand. “Ready to head in?”

  “Yeah,” she chirped, her voice chipper and upbeat, as she released him. “What do we have planned for
tonight?”

  “Dinner, first,” he said as he headed inside, holding the door open for her. They went into the nearly silent clubhouse, with her in the lead. He could hear Smalls and Squirrel in the rec room, speaking in hushed tones like they were graveyard visitors wary of waking ghosts.

  They were both leaning forward, intently discussing the MC's options over beers. “I just dunno,” Smalls was saying as he and Liona entered the room, “I think we should go in and get the fucker.”

  “Nah,” Squirrel replied, shaking his head furiously, “rule one: don't kill the cops.”

  “Ain't a cop, he's a lawyer,” Smalls retorted.

  “Technically,” Cutter interjected as he walked up, “he's an officer of the court, which means it's a shit load worse than just killing a cop. You'll bring down the feebs and God knows what else, we do that.”

  “Feebs?” Liona asked, confusion in her voice and on her face.

  “FBI,” Squirrel supplied. “Worse than the DEA, not as bad as the CIA.”