Fury: Sons of Chaos MC

by Paula Cox

  Vanessa chuckled. “I’ll let him know. He’ll probably want to meet, but there’s a chance he’s really not going to like this, baby. Like, violently not like it.”

  “Just because I left the Sons doesn’t mean I forgot them,” Tex said, but he let a little quaver creep into his voice, like he didn’t believe what he was saying. “I don’t think they’d appreciate someone coming after me.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Tex,” she said, and his heart beat too fast for a minute. “The Sons are still down in Los Angeles, and even if they were up here, they wouldn’t give a rat’s ass what happens to someone who blew them off like you did. They wouldn’t cross the street to piss on you if you were on fire. They-”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay,” he said, ducking his head like his bluff had been caught out. “You’ve made your point. You can shut up now. When’s the meet?”

  “Give me your phone,” she said, holding out an imperious hand tipped with a geometric manicure. He handed it over, and she tapped in some details into a contact screen. For the photo, she lifted the phone up and took a selfie of herself, biting her lip in that pose that used to drive him wild. That still didn’t entirely leave him unaffected, no matter how much he wanted nothing to do with her ever again.

  “Okay,” he said. “Now get out of here, so I can repair the damage you just did to my life.”

  “You know we’re meant to be, right?” For a moment, her voice sounded so small, so much like a sad little girl, that it tore him inside out. He knew she wasn’t honestly a bad person; she’d had a hell of a life, and she needed therapy, and maybe meds, and someone who loved her. But he wasn’t that person. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t put in the work. But her kind of crazy and his kind of crazy—they fed off each other, driving the fires higher, instead of calming them down. He’d done shit with her that he wouldn’t have done in a warzone, and he’d laughed like a hyena at the after effects.

  “No, Vanessa, we’re not,” he said, as gently as he could. “I loved you once, and I’ll care about you forever, but I left for a reason. Even if this thing with the Racketeers takes off, you and me, we’re just friends now. Associates.”

  “If you patch, you’d be my brother.”

  He had to laugh. “What, the Racketeers decide to join the 21st century and start patching ladies?”

  She glowered, and he knew he’d said something incredibly wrong. He made himself smile.

  “Anything else you need to say to me right now, Nessa?”

  “No,” she said. The conversation wasn’t done, though. She was angry now. That last comment had been one push too far, and she was pissed. He was going to pay for that, later. Hopefully, not by her blowing his cover to Gunner.

  “All right, then,” he said. He stood up and walked out of the small room. After a minute, she followed him. He walked her to the front door and held it open for her. She hesitated for a moment, and he wondered if she was going to try and kiss him again. He balanced lightly on his feet, ready to dodge. Maybe she read the movement, because she didn’t try to move in.

  “Goodbye, Tex,” she said. “We’ll catch up soon.” There was a sad, soft layer to her voice. At a different point in his life, he would have melted, curled into her, begged her to forgive him for whatever he’d done that upset her. But he’d moved on. Not just from her, but from the man who had needed to do that.

  She went through the door, and he didn’t wait for her to walk away before he flipped the latch and drew the shades. He’d heard Delilah’s office door close, and he turned back, ready to go beg, borrow, or steal his way inside to sort things out with Jessie before they got even worse.

  Instead, however, she was standing in front of the office door, her arms crossed tightly over her belly. Not like she was angry, like she was holding back some intense emotion. There were streaks of tears running down her cheeks, leaving marks in the subtle makeup she wore. A surge of need rolled through him, driving him to hold her, clutch her to his chest and kiss her hair. But she looked too fragile, too afraid. If he squeezed too hard, he might put her pieces back together, or he might fall apart.

  So he didn’t grab at her. He walked slowly across the room, his hands at his side and neutral. He kept his gaze on her face, but not specifically her eyes. That would be too intense right now, for both of them. “Hi,” he said, as soft and careful as he would have said it to a frightened animal. “What did she say to you?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  For a long, fraught moment, Jessie contemplated slapping him again. He deserved it, the way he was using moves on her like she was a rabid dog he had to corral. She was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a jealous woman. If he was with this Vanessa girl, then fine, more power to him. She’d tell him off for lying to her, but she wasn’t going to fight over him. That was a bunch of patriarchal bullshit she didn’t want any part of.

  “So,” she said instead. “Family friend?” It was kind of funny, once the words were out, and she had to choke back a giggle. If she started giggling, she’d be laughing before she knew it, and laughing was the path to more hysterical crying and hiccups. She’d just stopped hiccupping, and her belly was still hurting from the muscle convulsions. No more of that would be just fine with her.

  “Not even close,” Tex said. He paused for a moment, and then nodded a little at himself. “We used to date, a few years back. I’d just gotten back from Afghanistan, and my head was in a very bad place. Hers was too. We took it out on each other. After a while, I got help, and she didn’t like who I was anymore, so I split. I had no idea she was in town. It turns out that she’s…attached to the Racketeers, and I had to talk to her. What did she say to you?”

  “That I was fucking her boyfriend,” Jessie said, doing her best to make the words calm and cool. It didn’t work very well, but hey, participation trophy for making an effort, right?

  She was rewarded by a flash of pure anger that twisted Tex’s features for a moment. He covered his eyes with his hand, and when she could see his expression again, he was calm and still. “Okay. That’s absolutely not true. I promise you, Jessie, I haven’t seen her in three years, and I would have happily gone the rest of my life without ever seeing her again.”

  Since she wasn’t a jealous woman, there was absolutely no reason for the flush of pleasure that ran through her, brightening her skin and lightening her mood, pushing her mouth up into a smile. No reason at all. “Okay.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  A simple “yes” was too difficult to say. “I don’t have any reason to not believe you.”

  He reached out slowly, crossing the space between them. Her hands were still tight around her middle. She’d had to support herself, to stand up from that sobbing corner and step back into the salon after she’d heard him letting Vanessa out. It was an odd act of faith, releasing that grip and taking his hand. But once her fingers twined with his, she found herself wanting him so much that it felt a little dizzying.

  His pupils flared just a little, too, at the contact. She stepped closer into him, and let her head fall back a bit to gaze up at him, all loose and interested. “I feel so tense,” she said, letting her voice blend and purr just a bit. “Maybe you could help me with that.”

  He tugged her another step closer, so that the front of her body pressed up against him. She could feel the beginnings of an erection pressing into her belly. “I bet I could,” he said, his mouth ghosting over her lips as he leaned down over her. “I am very good with my hands.”

  “Show me,” she said.

  He stepped away, keeping her hand, and led her through the salon to the small massage room. She started to move towards the table, but he shook his head. “There,” he said, pointing at the chair. “And take off your shirt.”

  So many of her partners had been practically routine when it came to sex. A little finger, a little fucking, they’d get off, and then if she begged, she’d get a little bit of half-hearted head to finish her off. No wonder she’d never been particularly bothered abo
ut her lack of partners. But Tex was something else. He liked to boss her around, but he also liked it when she took the initiative and told him what she wanted. Sometimes.

  Based on the growl in his voice, this was not going to be one of those times. She unbuttoned her blouse very slowly, keeping her eyes on his face, but he didn’t pay any attention as he busied about the room. He closed the door, put on some quiet, instrumental music, and flipped on a white noise machine that was set to sounds of soft rain. The room also had a scent infuser running, pumping out a thick floral scent. Jasmine. It wasn’t something she’d want in her own home, but while she was here, it loosened the tension in her shoulders and made her hips roll just a little bit while she walked.

  The first time she’d seen the massage chair, she’d been boggled by its weird look. The pillow for her face, the weird incline, the odd spots to put her hands. It looked less like a place to relax and revitalize and more a place to get strapped down and spanked. And thinking about that had set off a strange and confusing whirl of emotions inside her head—and her pussy—that had no place in her good girl image. But now? Today? She didn’t care as much. Not when it was Tex behind her, watching her with heat in his gaze.

  “Sit,” he said again, and she sat.

  She faced the inclined back of the chair, rested her arms on the grips, and scooted forward until she could relax her body into the angle of the chair. Given the weight and heat of Tex’s look, she’d almost expected him to go straight for her tits. When his warm, oiled hands descended instead on her shoulders, it was a surprise. A pleasant one, an eager one, but still a surprise. His strong fingers began to work into the knots in her muscles. She wasn’t just tense from the strangeness with this Vanessa woman; it was also being on her feet all day, and smiling pleasantly at everyone who came in the door. People acted like her job was easy and brainless, but she’d worked hard to get good at cutting hair, and that was the easiest part of what she did. Interpreting what people wanted, figuring out how to go from the pictures of actresses and models they brought in to a look that would suit them—it wasn’t simple. But she loved it.

  “I didn’t realize you were so tense,” Tex said. “I’m going to have to get you into my chair more often.”

  She groaned agreement as he dug into a spot right along her spine that ached all the way down to her bones.

  “I have to admit, I had an ulterior motive when I brought you in here,” he added. “But I think that plan is going to have to wait for another day.” His hands glided down her spine, working into her low back, pressing out along the muscles on top of her hips, just above her ass.

  “No,” she murmured.

  His hands vanished instantly. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  “Not what I meant,” she said, blinking. “I meant I didn’t want you to wait.”

  He laughed. “Are you inviting me to have sex with you at your place of work? I gotta say, Jessie, I wasn’t sure that would be your speed.”

  Her pussy was heavy with heat. “There’s no one here. Delilah won’t be back until morning, and the door’s already locked. Who would catch us?”

  She felt his weight behind her as he scooted his stool right in behind her. His hands gripped her hips, tugging her back so that her ass lined up perfectly with his cock, now hard and eager in his scrub pants. All that was holding them up was that one little bowknot. She could probably undo it with her teeth.

  “Oh,” he murmured as he tugged her back, pulling her against his chest, stroking his hands over her neck, her upper arms, her belly. She’d worn a stretchy lace bra today, and her nipples were hardening, poking at the lace as if they were begging him to touch them. “You’re taking all the fun out of sex in a semi-public place.”

  “Sorry,” she lied, and then his thumbs found her nipples and she didn’t even pretend she cared anymore.

  “I have plans for you,” he said, his voice dropping down lower and gaining intensity. “I have all sorts of plans for you. I don’t have half of what I need with me.”

  “What were your plans?”

  He twisted her nipple hard enough to make her gasp. After a week, he’d gotten incredibly good at finding that delicious line between pain and pleasure. “As if I’d give away my secrets.”

  “What if I begged? What if I told you all my secret fantasies about how I want you to take your thick cock and ram it in my ass.” Her cheeks felt flaming hot, but she twisted her head to look back at him and raise her eyebrows. “Isn’t that what all the guys want to hear in porn?”

  He chucked softly as he gripped her breasts again, flicking at her nipples while she struggled to control her hips. “Maybe. That’s not exactly my thing. But if you wanted to try, I’d certainly help you out.” His look got very serious for a moment. “I don’t have lube here. I’m not sure if this massage oil is actually internal safe—”

  She laughed, caught the back of his neck in her hand, and pulled him down for a kiss. He met her eagerly, his tongue tracing over her lower lip before he nipped at her. “I think I was kidding.”

  “You think?”

  “It’s…not a thing I’ve done before. Not something I’d want to leap into.”

  “Understood,” he said. He rolled his hips, and his erection pressed hard against her. “So what do you want to leap into? Or onto? Or whatever works for you.”

  “This,” she said. She reached back around and gripped him through those lightweight pants. He was damp already, a small circle of wetness spreading around the head of his cock. “I want you inside of me. Does that work for you?”

  “Always,” he growled. “You wanna play with me, baby?”

  “Always,” she said back. And she meant it. He’d yet to disappoint her.

  “Stand up.”

  She obeyed his command without question. Her legs were spread over the chair’s seat, and he rolled back on the stool, tugging her along with him until she stood with nothing between her knees. His fingers played up her inner thighs until he reached the band of her panties. He slipped his fingers inside the fabric, tracing over the lips of her pussy before hooking the waistband and dragging them down her legs. He kicked them into a corner, then moved her again, leaving her standing, leaning on the back of the chair, her legs spread. He shifted himself forward so he was sitting on the seat, his face about level with belly. He pushed her shirt up and kissed her soft stomach while his fingers pressed up and inside of her cunt again, one thumb finding the hardening nub of her clit while the other circled the wet opening of her body.

  It felt good. It felt amazing. There had been a moment, when Vanessa had said that she was with Tex, that had felt like her world was falling down around her shoulders. There was a cynical part of her brain that wanted to claim Tex was only trying to play both sides of the coin, that he didn’t give a shit about her at all, but when she looked down into his eyes as he worshiped her, there was no way to believe it.

  “Are you with me?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “Does this feel good?”

  “God, yes.”

  “Do you want more?”

  “There’s more?”

  He laughed; his thumb left her pussy, making her whimper, but he replaced it with three fingers that spread her so wide open she didn’t have enough air to do more than gasp. “Baby, there is always more.”

  “Shit,” she murmured, feeling intense waves of urgent need starting to swirl through her as her pussy clenched around his fingers. “Oh, shit.”

  “Are you gonna come for me, baby? Do you want to?”

  She nodded, her breathing too fast to give him a proper answer.

  “Do you love how fast I can get you churning? Or do you want me to slow down?” His fingers went from a rapid, almost punishing thrust to a dragging rhythm, pressing on the front wall of her body, finding the little nubby place that made the world go white.

  She tried to make words, but her mouth wouldn’t move the right way. Her hands were gripping—shit, something, sh
e didn’t know—so hard she thought her nails would leave marks. Her hips rolled with his thrusts, urgent and desperate, trying to get him to move faster. Harder.

  She heard fabric move, and then the rapid slap of his hand against his flesh. “You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured against her skin. “Jesus, I love you.”

  Her brain vapor-locked for a moment, and the spinning urgency fled. He was kissing her stomach, moaning against her skin, and she wasn’t sure he’d even heard what he said.

  She reached down and tugged his chin up so he was looking into her eyes. When she had his full attention, she let her knees go weak, sinking down so his cock teased at her opening. His fingers made way, gripping her hips, his pupils so wide she could hardly see the color of his irises. “I don’t have a condom,” he said.

  “I’m on the pill,” she said. “I’m clean. Are you?”

  He nodded. “Tested a couple months back. No one since then.”