by Naomi West
As many times as Blue had already come, it still felt so good just to have him inside her. His girth filled her channel, making her body bend and arch in ways that she never did any other time in her life. Torque grabbed her by the hair again, twisting it into a rough shank around his hand as he pulled back on her with every thrust. He was dominant, he was in control, and she loved it. Torque was the only one she would trust with her life and with her body, and she wanted him to do his will.
But he had an agenda, and no matter how good their lovemaking felt, it was time to move on. He picked her up, turned her around, threw her over his shoulder, and headed down to the bathroom. Torque set her on the cold counter and plugged her, watching his dick as it moved in and out of her. “One of these days,” he said, the ardor clear in his voice, “I’m going to put you in that shower and rub my soapy hands over every inch of your body.”
She sighed lustily, knowing it would feel just as good as it sounded. “Promise?”
“Fuck, yes.” His eyes closed as he lost himself in the motion. “I want to do it right now, but you aren’t going to let me. Your body feels too good.”
Her core jumped, threatening to come again.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He picked her up once again. “I love to see you get yours, but that’s just going to make me come.” Torque turned back into the hallway and went around to the stairs.
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“I’m not ready yet. There’s at least one more thing I want to do.” He practically ran up the stairs with Blue in his arms.
She felt like she was flying, and a shudder of delight ran through her body when they reached the landing and Torque kicked in the door to their bedroom. He carried her to the bed like a medieval warrior king carrying his prize, but he laid her so gently between the sheets that he surprised her. Torque kissed her as he mounted the bed and slowly spread her legs. His eyes stared down into hers with such intensity that she couldn’t look away.
Entranced by this softer, gentler side of him, Blue smiled. “What’s this all about?”
He hovered above her, caressing her face, studying her eyes and her mouth. “I love to get rough with you, Blue. I love the way you respond to me when we’re going crazy. I love that we can be complete animals with each other. But I don’t want you to ever forget how special you are to me. We can fuck each other all we want to, but at the end of the day, I just want to make love to you.” He entered her again, but slowly, meaningfully, sheathing himself inside her for safekeeping.
Blue wrapped her legs around his tapered waist, allowing him to go as far inside her as possible. She wanted every bit of him, physically, mentally, emotionally. He was everything to her, and the baby they had made together was only proof of that. She felt their bodies intertwine, but she couldn’t close her eyes this time. She wanted to see the need in his eyes, the urgency, the honesty.
Just as she knew in her heart how much she loved Torque, her body knew it as well. A tension built in her body, increasing with every slow thrust until it built into a ball of desire in her chest and exploded outward through her muscles. Blue undulated around him in waves of delight, pulling him in even farther.
His member responded, his girth expanding and his hips suddenly moving faster. His arms slackened underneath him as they both climbed to the pinnacle of their ecstasy. Blue moaned, panting as he filled her. Torque shuddered and collapsed, his body spent.
They lay together in bed afterwards. Blue’s head was on his chest, her fingers tracing the muscles of his chest and stomach. His hand stroked her hair, moving down occasionally to tap rhythmically on her shoulder or trace a line down her spine.
“What are you thinking?” he asked when she laughed softly to herself.
“Well,” she replied demurely, “I was just adding up in my head all the places we missed.”
“Oh? I didn’t know there were that many.”
She counted them off on her fingers. “There’s the kitchen. I think if it was night and we had the lights off, we could get away with doing it on the screened-in patio. We completely skipped the guest bedroom.”
“Anything else?” he asked derisively.
Blue screwed up her face as he looked at the ceiling. “The hallway. Maybe some of the closets would work.”
“If you want to get technical about it.”
She giggled. “I do. Trust me, I really do.”
“Damn. I guess I should have bought a smaller house. I’ll never be able to get that all done in one day before you make me come, but I’m not complaining.”
“You can always make another appointment with me if you want to try again.” Blue pulled herself up on one elbow so she could look at him properly. He really was one hell of a handsome man. He was so tall and so muscular, like a god. She knew that even if he hadn’t been so attractive, she would have had no choice but to be with him. He was perfect for her. “I’m so glad I have a family with you,” she said softly.
He pulled her over his chest so that he could kiss her once again, tenderly, lovingly. “Me, too. I never thought I would, not with the way I had been living. I wasn’t even too sure of how Acer would feel about me moving out of the clubhouse and reducing my time with the clan, but he just smiled and smacked me on the shoulder. I think he likes you.”
“He just likes my work,” Blue countered. “Did he tell you he made another appointment after I fixed his arm?”
Torque shook his head and grinned. “I’m not surprised. What’s he getting this time?”
“He wants the Ace of Spades down his left calf, and he tells me he has plans for the Jack of Diamonds on the right.” She had already started on the sketches, eager to fill out Acer’s collection.
“That sounds like him,” Torque replied. “I don’t know what I want for my next one just yet, but I do have my artist picked out.” He kissed her nose.
“Sounds good to me. Speaking of, we’ve been gone for a while.”
Torque got up, the sheets sliding off his naked body and revealing it in all its glory. Blue let herself admire his strong legs, his muscular ass, his flat stomach, and his wide shoulders. His deep black tattoos complemented it all, and she could see now that the new tattoo in honor of his daughter would only make it better.
His arms rippled as he held out a hand to help her off the bed. “Let’s go get our girl.”
THE END
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BABY WITH THE SAVAGE: The Motor Saints MC
By Naomi West
IF SHE WANTED SOMETHING SAFE AND NORMAL, SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE HAD A BABY WITH THE SAVAGE.
The deal was simple:
Take her to bed until she’s pregnant.
Hot sex with an eager woman, no strings attached?
I’d have to be insane to say no.
But it’s never that simple.
When my enemies catch wind of what’s happening, everything goes to hell.
I can’t make an innocent woman pay for my sins.
I barely know her, but I’ll go to war to protect what’s mine.
She may have entered my life as a plaything.
But the longer her skin is up against mine…
The louder I can feel her hot breath in my ear…
The more her nails scrape down my tattooed back…
The more certain I am of this:
Anyone who lays a hand on my woman or my baby will feel every ounce of my wrath.
I’ll tear them to pieces if they hurt her.
That’s what happens when you have a baby with a savage.
Chapter One
Dante
“Now listen here, I’m a proud Texan man and I don’t take kindly to waiting aro
und.”
I watch the man silently, wanting to get this deal over with. The last thing I need is some bastard wearing a cowboy hat and boots with shiny bits on them talking down to me. I offer him a sideways smile and wait for him to shut his mouth. At my side, Lion bristles. I can feel my VP getting ready for a fight, but there’s no need.
“You have the drugs,” I say. “We have the cash. It ain’t our fault if there was a crash on the road into the city.”
“Passing the buck,” the man tuts. His name is James, if I remember rightly. “I don’t like that sort of—”
“What you like and what you don’t like don’t matter none to us.” I rest my hand on my revolver. “What matters is the merchandise. You say you don’t like waiting around. Well, I don’t like it either. So how about you stop wagging your tongue and get to dealing?”
James looks to Lion. “The fuck you looking at me for?” my VP snaps. “You heard him.”
At my other shoulder, Timmy stands up straighter. Both of my men are ready for fighting if it should come to that, but I don’t see why it should. We’re standing in an alleyway in the heart of Austin, the summer night heat making it stink like the devil, the sounds of the city all around us. I just want to get this deal done and get out of here. I wonder briefly how Markus would’ve handled this, and then push that from my mind. There’s never any use dwelling on the past. It’s called the past for a reason.
“You’re aware this is Chosen Wraiths’ territory.” James smiles.
“I’m aware I have my hand on a .44 Magnum,” I counter.
Behind James, his cronies rise from their bikes. There’re four of them in all, the type of men who’ll kill and think nothing of it. It’s lucky we’re that type as well, then. But still, I should’ve brought more guys. Three against four, five including the cowboy. Silently, I curse myself. It’s a goddamn rookie mistake.
James laughs. “Okay, friend. Let’s get this done. Rustle, bring the merchandise.”
“Lion, the money.”
“Boss.”
As our men collect the bags, James leans over and pats me on the shoulder. I should let it go. It’s just a pat on the shoulder, nothing worth ruining a drug deal about. But it’s the way he does it, just pats me and then leans back and says nothing, as if proving he can do anything he damn well pleases and get away with it.
“If you ever touch me like that again,” I say, knowing it’s a mistake even as I say it, “I’ll break your hand.”
James inclines his head. “If you say so. I really don’t see the need for that sort of attitude, though.”
Our men exchange bags. I watch James’s face closely. As Lion unzips the bag and peers inside, it goes from a smile to one of deadly intent. Before he pulls his gun, I know the deal’s going south.
“Boss, there’re bricks in—”
I dive at James and smash the gun from his hand, head-butt him, and then throw him at the nearest man, knocking them both over. Gunshots fill the air as I sprint to a trashcan and duck down behind it. Rat-a-tat-tat, gunshots ringing off the metal and chipping the brick above me. Lion and Timmy crouch down on the other side, exchanging shots.
“The Gentleman wants him dead!” James roars. “How hard can that really be?”
The Gentleman …the leader of the Chosen Wraiths. This was a trap from the start.
“Fire back, lads!” I shout, aiming with my revolver. I shoot twice, quickly, turning two heads into sprays of blood and messes of bone and brain. The men slink down and James turns to them, mouth hanging open.
“Get out of here!” he cries. “Get the fuck outta here!”
I fire more shots after them until my revolver clicks on empty. The men climb onto their bikes and fire back, bullets hitting the concrete at my feet …and then one bullet, taking me through the shoulder and sending me flying to the ground. I land heavily on my back, staring up at the blue Texan sky. Lion and Timmy keep firing and then run to me.
Lion’s mane of blond hair falls down into my face. He brushes it aside. “Sorry, boss,” he mumbles, leaning over me. “Fuck, they got you, didn’t they?”
“They got me,” I wheeze, trying to sit up. My shoulder throbs painfully. “It’s just a flesh wound, I reckon.” I manage to sit up on my second try. There’s pain but I can still open and close my fingers. Moving my arm hurts some, but since there’s a bullet in there I think hurt some is the good end of the deal.
“Did they get our money?” I ask.
Timmy, peering down behind Lion, nods. “Sorry, boss.”
“Should’ve brought more men,” I mutter. “If they really are Wraith dogs, they’ll be paying the Gentleman by sunset, and then the money’ll be in Wraith businesses within the week. Help me up, will you? We need to get back to Sun Town. I hate the fuckin’ city.”
“Boss.” Lion leans down and lifts me by my good arm. I struggle to my feet and then limp to my bike. Forty thousand in Wraith hands …stupid fucking mistake.
I’m about to climb onto my bike when sirens fill the air around us. I jump on my bike and then a spike of pain shoots through my shoulder, the bullet moving around in my flesh. I grit my teeth and try to grip the handlebar but the pain is too severe. Sometimes being a man is about pushing through the pain. Sometimes it’s about admitting when the pain is too much. I’m not risking my men because I got shot, no damn way.
“You two get out of here, now,” I tell them. “Don’t second-guess me on this. Just leave. I’ll handle the police.”
Timmy opens his mouth to protest but Lion claps him on the back. “You heard the man,” he says.
They ride out of the alleyway, leaving me to sit with my back to the wall. Maybe the injury is worse than I think because no sooner have I sat down than my vision is going blurry—and then it goes black.
I wake up hours later, the midday sun turned into a purple bruise in the sky. A woman in a suit stands over my hospital bed, her hair scraped back into a tight ponytail, her lips pursed. Just behind her a tall man stands with his hands folded, a smirk on his face. I recognize them as police officers by their demeanors but I don’t know either of them personally. This ain’t Sun Town, where we own the cops. This is the big city.
Before either of them can talk, the doctor sweeps into the room. She’s a pretty Asian lady with pink-framed glasses. “Mr. Dante Stevenson,” she says, using the alias from my fake driver’s license. She glances at the police officers and then goes on. “The bullet fragmented and went deeper into your arm, but we were able to retrieve the fragments. We have given you …” She trails off, glancing again at the police officers. It’s clear she wants to get out of here as quickly as possible. “We have given you seventeen stiches and billed your health insurance company. There will be moderate pain. Please treat this accordingly. I can prescribe something if you like.”
“It’s all right, doc,” I say. “You can go.”
She nods gratefully and retreats, closing the door behind her.
I turn to the woman. “I bet you’ve been ragging on her all damn day about speaking to me. You’ve got her all shaken up.”
“My name is Detective Grimson.” She waves at the man. “This is Detective Junior.”
“Your surname is Junior?” I laugh, ignoring the pain in my arm.
Now that the fragments are out, it’s less severe. I feel good enough to ride. I clench my fists when I remember …the Wraiths! The Chosen Wraiths can’t get away with this. The Gentleman …his name rings through my skull. More like the Animal. I remember a day long ago when I looked down at a man with blood in his beard, his eyes closed and blood pooling like egg yolk around his skull.
“Mr. Stevenson!” Detective Grimson snaps. “Are you with us?”
“I think this gunshot is making me lightheaded. I’ve half a mind to push that there button and get me a nurse.” I nod at the call nurse button. “Hopefully one with a tight ass and some big, bouncy tits.” I wink Detective Grimson. “You’re a little stern-lookin’ for my tastes, ma’am, but I’m
sure I could make do.”
“I need to know what happened in that alleyway,” Detective Grimson says. “Your account of what happened, anyway.”
“My account?” I shrug.
“You are a suspect in a murder case,” she says, watching me closely. “Two men are dead.”
I sigh. “We both know how this is going to work. Two drug dealers are dead. Your boss’s boss is going to get a call and he’ll tell your boss, who’ll tell you, that two dead drug dealers ain’t worth anyone’s time.” At least that’s what I’m counting on. Lion should’ve already made the call, offering a substantial bribe and using blackmail if necessary.
“That’s not how things work,” Grimson says. “Maybe in your biker world, but not here.”
“Biker world? I don’t know what you mean.” The only good decision I’ve made today, I reflect, is making sure Lion, Timmy, and I were wearing civilian clothes when we rode into town.