Returning Home (Satan's Sinners MC Book 4)

Home > Other > Returning Home (Satan's Sinners MC Book 4) > Page 2
Returning Home (Satan's Sinners MC Book 4) Page 2

by Colbie Kay


  Opening the door, I respond while looking into her eyes, “I know. You were made for this life, just like the rest of us.” Placing my hand on Chatty’s lower back, I guide her inside.

  The loud music blares throughout the bar, clouds of smoke can be seen through the air, and the party is in full swing. As I look around, I see a few prospects shootin’ pool, money’s thrown down on the table, and winner takes all. A couple of the club whores are dancin’ around, trying to gain the attention of some of the guys. Hang-arounds sit at the tables drinkin’ and bull-shittin’ with each other.

  The couches are filled with men getting their dicks sucked, others have a bitch on their lap ridin’ ‘em like there’s no tomorrow, and others have one straddling their face with another on her knees and one beside ‘em spread the fuck open while his fingers push in and out, makin’ her scream like a fuckin’ banshee.

  “Some shit never changes.” Chatty shakes her head with a laugh and walks to the bar.

  “Hey, Gunner!” Turning my head towards the shouting of my name, I see the ones on the dance floor smiling my way and waving. I tilt my head up—that’s all the acknowledgement they’ll get from me right now. I follow behind Chatty.

  “What’s your name again?” Chatty asks the prospect tending bar.

  “Drifter. What can I get for you?” He wipes down the bar as he waits, but adds, “Good to have you back, Gunner.”

  “Thanks. It’s good to be back. Where’s Hanger?”

  Drifter tucks the towel into his back pocket as he replies, “Him and his Ol’ Lady took off towards the rooms a while ago.” No surprise there; even after four years together, marriage, and three little kids, they still fuck every chance they get.

  “Give us a six pack of Corona, lime, and that bottle of Jose.” Chatty smiles, then lets it be known, “Tomorrow, I’ll be taking over the bar.”

  “Got it.” Drifter grabs everything Chatty asked for, then sets it in front of us. I’m pretty sure his answer was for both of Chatty’s demands.

  “Where you wanna go?” I ask as I start grabbin’ the alcohol.

  “Let’s hang out in your room.” She turns away from the bar and starts heading towards the bedrooms.

  Handing the drinks over to Chatty, I open the door to my room and flip the switch. The light brightens the space as we walk in, then I shut and lock the door behind us.

  Chatty looks around and says, “I’ve never been in any of these rooms, except for the one Ripper and I stayed in.”

  “I know.” I look around and it’s just as I left it—same as everything else. The different Harley posters with half-naked women cover the light brown walls. My 42-inch flat screen TV sits on top of the wooden dresser along the wall in front of my full-sized bed.

  Chatty walks over and puts the alcohol down on my black comforter, then sits down on the bed. She removes her boots and socks then leans against the dark wooden headboard. Walking to the opposite side of my bed, I sit, remove my boots and socks, then mimic her position.

  She opens one of the Coronas, takes a sip, then opens the tequila and takes a healthy swig before passing me the bottle. Watchin’ her suck the juice out of her slice of lime has my cock hardening once again. “You gonna stay in the old room since you’re back?” I question, trying to keep my mind off where I’d really like that pretty mouth of hers.

  “No, I got my cousin, Tinsley, set up in one of the empty rooms, so I’ll just share with her.” Another shot down and half the beer gone.

  “Makes sense.”

  A few more shots pass between us, leaving the bottle half empty, and a few more Coronas gone; Chatty’s feelin’ a little tipsy. Not that she tells me so, but with the way she’s laughing, and her eyes have that far-off look, you can tell. I’m feelin’ pretty damn good myself since this is the first drink I’ve had since I got locked up.

  I turned the TV on a little while ago to some music station so it wouldn’t be so quiet if we weren’t talkin’. Chatty surprises the shit outta me when a new song comes on. She straddles my lap, then holds a lime close to my mouth. I take it between my teeth as she takes another shot, my eyes glued to the goddess while waiting for her next move. No way in hell am I going to disturb what she has goin’ on; it may ruin the moment. If this is my chance, I’m takin’ it. She might regret it tomorrow, but I’ll deal with that then.

  Bringing the bottle down from her lips, she bends closer to me. She takes the lime right out from between my teeth and sucks the juice out. “So good!” Chatty says as her eyes roll and she throws the peel into the small trash can next to my bed. There’s no way she can’t feel my hard, throbbing cock against those tight leather pants.

  She hands me the bottle while putting the next slice between her teeth. It sits there, waiting for me like a bad temptation. Never said I was a good guy, so I take the shot and move in close to her. My tongue slides across her bottom lip—the moan is quiet, but I don’t miss the sexy little sound coming from her. Takin’ the lime, I suck the juice out. “So fucking good!” I respond as I watch her eyes slowly open, and when they do, there’s desire and lust in her blue orbs.

  Chatty places another piece between my lips and takes a shot, only this time she doesn’t swallow. She leans in close, grabs the lime with her fingers, and puts her lips to mine. Swallowing down the hot liquid she transferred from her mouth to mine, a low growl escapes from deep in my chest. Watching as she squeezes some of the lime juice into her mouth, she holds it in the air a few inches above me. Tilting my head back, I open up, waiting for the tart taste to hit my tongue.

  Leveling my eyes with Chatty’s, I know mine are a reflection of hers, showing off our desire and lust. I’m hungry for this little goddess. I’m done playing—and fuck waiting for her next move! I grip the back of her neck roughly and pull her close. With our lips not yet touching, only a breath between us, I demand, “Kiss me, Chat.” Her eyes move down to my mouth and a small gasp leaves her before she moves in the rest of the way.

  There’s nothing slow about this kiss—it’s primal, devouring, and control-craving as our tongues duel and we explore each other’s mouths. Chatty is a woman that likes to have control, but I’m a man who takes it.

  Her hands work furiously, tuggin’ at my black t-shirt until we break apart and she gets it over my head. Quickly following suit, I pull her tank over her head in a swift motion. They both go flying across the room. With one hand on the back of her head, I bring her lips back to mine. My other hand finds the clasps on her bra, and with ease I undo them as the straps fall around her arms. While the kiss continues, Chatty gets her bra off and throws it off to the side somewhere. I don’t really give a shit where the clothes are going, as long as they keep comin’ off.

  My hand buried in her hair, I stop the kiss, pullin’ Chatty’s head back a little. My mouth moves to her neck. Her arms wrap around my neck and her head tilts to the side, allowing me easy access. My free hand cups her tit, massaging gently as I pepper kisses along the side of her neck and shoulder. I then run my tongue lightly along the same spots my lips just were; Chatty shivers, and her breathing becomes heavy.

  I bend down a little, sucking her tight rosy nipple into my mouth. My tongue moves in circles around the hard bud before I flick it and bite down some. The sensation makes Chatty cry out louder as she starts moving her hips along my rock hard cock. Her hands move up onto my head as she tries gripping my non-existent hair. It used to be long as fuck on top, with the sides shaved, but in getting locked up, I had to shave it all when they transferred me to the prison. Maybe I need to grow it back?

  Moving on to the other tit, I give it the same love and attention as Chatty bends down. Her lips and mouth kiss and suck at my skin—no doubt there’s gonna be a mark. A growl rips free as she bites down roughly, but it’s a huge fuckin’ turn-on, because I love fuckin’ rough. I’m not into the slow, romantic love-making.
<
br />   Letting go of her nipple with a pop, I tell Chatty, “Stand up, get those sexy fuckin’ pants off, and bend over the bed with your legs spread.”

  She scurries off of me and off the bed as I lay there, watching. Finally able to release my cock, I undo my jeans, lift my ass and slide them down my legs. I don’t have to worry about boxers or none of that shit; I’m a commando kinda guy. Pulling my feet free, I stare in pure adoration as she stands before me in all her naked perfection. Gripping my cock in my hand, I give it a few good strokes. Chatty’s lips part and her tongue peeks out licking across her swollen bottom lip. “You’re beautiful, Chat.”

  Her lips lift in a slight smile. “Gunner, it’s been a long time since a man has touched me, kissed me, or looked at me the way you are right now. I need you to fuck me. I need it to be hard, rough, and don’t you dare take it easy on me. Make me forget every-fucking-thing. Can you do that?”

  “My pleasure.”

  Scooting off the bed, I walk behind Chatty and put my arms around her. I run a finger along her pussy, feeling how fuckin’ wet she is for me. Moving my hands up her body, I give one last squeeze to her tits before placing my hands on her back and bending her over. Chatty holds herself up with her hands on my comforter and spreads her thighs wide open. Grabbing a condom out of the nightstand, hoping like hell they aren’t expired, I rip the wrapper with my teeth and roll the latex down over my length.

  Placing the tip of my cock at her entrance, I push forward in one swift motion until I’m all the way in. Chatty cries out loudly and tightens her hands around the comforter. It’s been a while for her, so I give her a second to adjust, because let’s face it: I’m not small by any means.

  “Move,” she tells me, and I do as she commands.

  My hands fingers dig into her hips as I thrust in and out of her tight heat. The quick pace and rhythm I’ve set is controlled and deliberate, making sure to hit the spot that will make a woman go fuckin’ crazy. Pushing in as far as I can, I stop all movement and reach around to find her clit. As I move my middle finger in circles, Chatty’s moans grow louder. Slowly, I start moving again, but it’s rough little pumps, where her feet come up off the ground. “Fuck, you feel good! Your tight little cunt’s so fuckin’ greedy.”

  Chatty’s knuckles begin to turn white because of the hold she has on my comforter. Her head flies back and I feel her walls clenching me tighter. “Fuck, I’m close. Don’t stop!” Chatty cries out, and her lips stay parted. I move my finger quicker, push in and out a little faster, but keep that same rough rhythm. “Yes! Right there!” My finger goes even faster, as do my thrusts, then I’m growling out and she’s crying for God.

  “I’m coming!” Chatty announces loudly, and I’m right there with her.

  Our breathing is fast, our bodies are sweaty, and she’s shaking, still having one hell of an orgasm as her juices soak the latex. I wish it was my cock, but going unprotected wouldn’t have been smart. My cum fills the condom as my legs shake from such a powerful release; I don’t remember it ever being that good.

  Chatty falls onto the bed in an orgasmic bliss and I crawl to the other side after disposing of the condom. My breathing finally gets under control and I look towards Chatty. She’s looking at me in a different way now. Fuck, I knew this shit was gonna happen, but I wished it would have come tomorrow.

  “What have I done?” Chatty stands, her eyes shining—and not in a good way. I’ve only seen her cry twice in eight years, and that’s when Ripper died and then the day they put him in the ground.

  “We didn’t do anything wrong, Chat.” I sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed. I want to grab her, hold her, and comfort her. I want to reassure her, but she’s already grabbing her clothes and putting them back on.

  “Speak for yourself.” Chatty walks to the door and opens it.

  “Chatty?” She doesn’t look back, just shuts the door behind her as she leaves me lying there, feeling like a complete asshole.

  Chapter One

  Guilt sits heavy in my gut and has ever since the night with Gunner a week ago. I feel like I betrayed my dead husband and that’s a horrible feeling to bear. I could make excuses all day long for why it happened—Jesus, I’m the one that started it—but no amount of excuses would make fucking one of his club brothers acceptable.

  I could say it was the alcohol, but realistically I wasn’t drunk enough to not know what I was doing.

  I could say it was the fact I have been lonely since the day my husband got killed, but I went three years without another man. Why would I jump on Gunner the first chance I got?

  I’ll tell you why: because he looks downright sexy, plain and simple. He’s changed since the last time I saw him; his long blondish-brown hair is gone now, it’s short in a buzz cut. His beard is no longer there, just shadowy stubble where he might grow it back. He’s still the same hard-bodied, tall, tattooed man as before, but I was looking at him in a whole new light last week.

  Maybe that moment had been building between us for some time now and I didn’t realize it until we saw each other again. Gunner was the one to hold me and give me comfort the night Ripper died. If Crazy Girl wasn’t with me, then Gunner was. Up until the day I left, they took care of me when I couldn’t even bring myself to get out of bed. He would lay with me, hold me, and let me cry. When I’d wake from nightmares of seeing my husband take his last breath, he would pull me in close and whisper soothing words, rubbing my back until I’d fall back to sleep.

  When Gunner got locked up, I knew he couldn’t talk to the guys and felt it was time for me to be there for him. I didn’t want him to be alone, so I wrote him letters. I wrote one letter, once a week for three years. I told him not to write me back, but to just enjoy what I was sending. The letters weren’t really anything special, just about how my week went, what was happening in the world, and I would tell him stories of when I was younger. I hope he got a good laugh from some of those stupid stories.

  So…imagine my surprise when he came strolling up with Hanger on the exact same day I decided to come back. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him that day, and he was no longer Gunner, Ripper’s brother, he was Gunner, this sexy, built man that I’m attracted to. I knew he had gone three years without being with a woman, and after our ride on his bike I didn’t want him to fuck one of the whores. I wanted him to fuck me—that he did, and he did it well.

  My emotions are all over the place now, and I don’t know how to deal with them or figure them out, because from the time I met Ripper, he was all I ever saw. I never once looked at any of the other guys in this club, until I returned here and laid eyes on Gunner again. I never pictured myself wanting another man, but I did or do. Hell, I don’t know. The only thing I do know is I feel fucking guilty for it, and I can’t let anything with Gunner happen again. One-time deal, that’s it!

  Besides, why should I be able to move on with my life when Ripper can’t? He was taken from me way too soon, and it’s not fair that I have to be here without my husband. I should have died that day.

  With the way I ran out of the clubhouse, the gunshots being exchanged and I didn’t even care if I got hit. I didn’t try to dodge the bullets—all I wanted was to get to my husband—but by some miracle not a single one hit me. Most people would be thankful for that, but I wonder if life would have been better on the other side with him, rather than being subjected to this fucked-up world.

  I had a plan when I decided to return here, and it never involved another biker when I walked through those gates. Especially one of Ripper’s brothers. I wanted to work in the bar again and make some money while keeping my cousin, Tinsley, safe and hidden. That plan fell to shit when I looked into Gunner’s crystal clear blue eyes.

  Later than night I was asking Gunner to make me forget and he did, but it wasn’t just during the amazing sex, it was from the moment I straddled his bike. I wasn’
t Ripper’s Ol’ Lady anymore—I was just Chatty, the twenty-eight year old woman having a good time. The first good time I’ve had in so long, and not once did I think about being a widow. Not once did I think about Ripper, either, and he fills my thoughts day in and day out. Because of that, my heart feels heavy, and I’ve been beating myself up over my situation for the last week.

  The girls wanted to get together today for lunch and shopping, no doubt to discuss what happened at the BBQ. I need this girls’ day more than anything. Friends, shopping, and gossip—I’m in.

  Tinsley and I walk into the restaurant; it’s not overly packed for an afternoon lunch hour, which makes it nice because I am starving. Our table is in the back and as we head that way, I look around at the quaint little place. Lit candles sit on top of the white tablecloths so the lighting is dimmed some; empty wine glasses and silverware rolled in white cloth napkins are placed for each of the four wooden chairs per table. The décor is old—vintage antiques and black and white portraits hang on the walls, which are painted half turquoise and half chocolate brown, with white trim separating the two colors.

  Already seated at our table is Crazy Girl, Jacey aka Lil Mama, Daphne, Sierra, and Audrey. The only one that’s still missing is Ever, Crazy Girl’s twin sister. I don’t know Audrey or Daphne that well and I’ve only been around Sierra a few times, but they all seem nice.

  Five years ago, I didn’t have any friends outside of the guys. The whores were less-than-pleased that Ripper brought me in as his Ol’ Lady because I took my man away from them. I had to gain my respect and they had to learn I wasn’t the bitch to fuck with. Crazy Girl did it after me, followed by Jacey.

  Crazy Girl and I immediately hit it off and she’s my best friend. Jacey, on the other hand… We had a rocky start, because I didn’t like how she did Bear—and, in fact, I thought she was a fucking bitch. That’s why I’ve never really adapted to calling her Lil Mama, the name Bear gave her. I know she had her reasons for why she put Bear through hell and she’s made up for her mistakes, but Jacey hasn’t won my respect yet. I don’t judge her for the choices she made and Bear got past all that, but those guys are family to me and when you fuck with them, you fuck with me. I keep the peace, though, for Crazy Girl’s sake.

 

‹ Prev