Addicted: A Secret Baby Romance (Rebel Saints MC)

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Addicted: A Secret Baby Romance (Rebel Saints MC) Page 7

by Zoey Parker


  I have to get out of here.

  “Uh Boss?” Pip says as I get to the door.

  “Yeah?”

  “You gonna leave us hanging man? Which one?” Jaws asks.

  “The one with the crazy eyes,” I say and leave.

  Outside, I freeze, nod to a passing concierge who averts his eyes. I watch him push his food cart along the hallway, not taking my eyes off him until he disappears in another room.

  There’s no way they could know, could they? What the hell’s going on with me?

  I stride out to my bike and hop on.

  I drive in the general direction of the motel, though nowhere really in particular. I drive to think, speed to slow my thoughts down.

  What just happened in that room there? That was business as usual and yet, it was nothing like usual. Those girls – the merchandise, that’s what they were merchandise. I had never thought of them as people, with brothers, lovers, lives. These girls had lives before this, and now? Now they’re slaves, cut off from everything.

  I pull over at a Dairy Queen, check my phone again, my heart falling as soon as I see: Nothing.

  Hannah can’t get back soon enough. I’m losing it without her.

  ###

  I get a nice big Oreo McFlurry and dig in, sitting alone in the corner of the over-lit fluorescent box of yumminess.

  At least Hannah would approve of this, stuffing my face with junk food instead of cigs or beer. Or drugs.

  I take a generous spoonful, and then another and another, my hunger growing with each bite.

  I can’t fall apart when Hannah’s missing like this. I need to stay clear-headed so I can find her. I will find her.

  I shovel more and more ice cream in my mouth, until I’m in there with it, sliding along the edge of a chunk of Oreo, sweeping along a tunnel of peanut butter. I’m lost in sensation, and I’m almost alright. Almost.

  When I’m done, I gaze out of the bright box into the dark empty night. There’s not a single car in the parking lot.

  Behind the counter, even the teenaged ponytail has disappeared, is off somewhere, probably texting her boyfriend or her best friend or her best friend’s boyfriend.

  I’d feel lonely if I didn’t have tonight.

  I glance at my phone. It’s early, but I’ll go anyway. I have nowhere else to.

  Chapter 12

  Toni

  I’m early but I had to get out of the house.

  Carlos was stalking around the first floor like a hyena, jumping whenever I opened a cupboard, glaring at me whenever I was in the same room.

  He probably called that witch Laurenz as soon as I stepped foot out of the house.

  Papa’s tucked away on the third floor, probably has no idea. Or maybe she’s working her magic on him too.

  I check the clock for the fifth time. Still 30 minutes to go.

  The albino doesn’t seem like the type to be late; I’ll start a bath.

  Even the sound of the bubbling out warmth makes me relax.

  Yes, this is just what I need. A nice bath and then a nice fuck.

  Escape from this headache-inducing hell I’ve been trapped in.

  I slip a toe in and exhale in pleasure.

  Just the right temperature. I lower myself in and, under the water, close my eyes.

  Submerged there, I’m free: worry laps at the edge of my mind, all remote and powerless.

  Ridiculous considerations float through my head, everything almost plausible in these soothing heat:

  Why not just hand over control to Carlos? He’s brutal but effective. He’s been dying to lead since he was old enough to talk. Then he’d leave me alone too. I could spend more time with Jane, do whatever I wanted to, whenever I wanted to – even leave.

  I stretch myself out further, savoring the warmth embracing every inch of my body.

  God, it would be so easy.

  I sit up, breaking out of the water for a breath.

  In the coolness, it all comes swirling back: the women filthy and sprawled on the floor like animals, that one in the corner reduced to reading chunks of a book.

  No, I can’t leave them and more like them to their fate. Carlos would never agree to change things. I have to do it myself.

  At the sound of the front door opening, I stand up.

  I left the bathroom door open; I didn’t expect anyone to come in. Not yet.

  In the front door, framed in the light, his white suit and white hair like a beacon, the realization hits me like a cold slug in the face.

  I know who that is.

  That’s Gabriel Pierson, leader of the Rebel Saints. That’s my greatest enemy. That’s the man I’m sleeping with.

  He lets the door slam behind him, strides to the door of the bathroom, stops to take me in.

  “You’re all ready for me,” he says, the pleasure in his voice flitting to his lips.

  I nod, speechless.

  Does he know?

  I search his face, but all I find is a want that I can already feel blooming between my legs.

  “Here, I’ll join you,” he says, his hands already unbuttoning his shirt.

  I get out of the tub.

  “Wait there,” he commands, and I freeze.

  He acts as if I’m not there, as he undoes the buttons, unhurried, casual. Like he’s in his own house, without a wet, naked woman before him.

  He undoes his pants and slips them off with the same nonchalance.

  It’s only when he’s completely naked, that he lets his gaze meet mine.

  An electric current goes through my body. His cock looks hard already.

  He strides forward, picks me up and tosses me in the tub, the water shooting out in all directions.

  He jumps in on top of me, every inch of him pressing against every inch of me. His hand sweeps up and down me in head-to-toe strokes, while mine clutch at his hard chest. I kiss the falcon on his left pec, while, mid-stroke, his hand goes between my legs.

  “Smart,” he says with a grin, “But useless. Trying to make yourself clean before being dirty again.”

  “I want you to fuck me inside-out,” I hiss, my hands going for the hard pole of his dick.

  While his one finger starts jerking in me, the other slips to my ass.

  At a squirting sound, my eyes flutter open to see his other hand topped with a white tuft of my vanilla body cream that I never got around to using.

  “So prepared,” he says, his one finger still pulsing away, sending my body in tremors, while the palm of his other runs down my back.

  My one hand jerks him off, while the other reaches for the hand, the cream I’ll rub on his dick.

  He freezes, shoves me to the back of the tub with the cream hand, waves the cream finger in my face.

  “Ah, ah, ah, this cream has a very special use.”

  His one hand starts kneading my breast, while the other goes to my shoulder, slides around to my neck, down to my back, then further.

  I shove my pelvis to his dick. He slaps my ass.

  “Bad slut,” he growls.

  I lay back, and he pets my head.

  “That’s more like it.”

  Then his hand starts kneading my ass, jiggling the fat then grasping it, playing with the cheeks.

  I rub my pussy against his dick and he slaps my crotch with it, grabs my ass roughly.

  “Bad slut.”

  His fingers snake all over my ass, into the crack, run up and down it, up and down, rubbing the cream in, concentrating around the hole. He throws his lips over mine, probing his tongue in my mouth while he increases the intensities of his strokes of my crack.

  Suddenly, he flips me over.

  My face is under water. A loud sucking sound, and my head is lifted up by the hair, while the water in the tub slowly ebbs.

  He presses his face into the back of my head, his finger into my opening.

  “Don’t you worry, slut. I still have more to do with you yet.”

  And then the water’s gone and he’s emptying my
body cream over my lower back, then back and forth over my ass cheeks, rubbing it in with his hands. And then his hand is back on my ass crack, pressing into the hole, around it, teasing me.

  I press my ass up in frustration, but he slaps it. And then shoves a finger in me. I stick it up higher.

  He reaches down and grabs my tit.

  “Yeah, you like that, don’t you?”

  His other hand kneads my ass, slides down into my pussy.

  While it starts jerking, his other finger works its way in deeper.

  Amidst the pleasure ratcheting up and down my spine, from my ass to my pussy and back again, I’m aware of only one urge, one word, one need.

  “More,” I gasp, and he obliges me.

  Shoves his finger all the way in my ass, and the other all the way in my pussy, pumping in the same frantic rhythm he can’t keep up for long and I don’t need him to. He’s given me more and more, the hot flush of oblivion is overtaking me. I can’t hold on much longer.

  On the edge, as my whole body trembles with his jerking, the word spills out of me, becomes some kind of masochistic, insane refrain, “More –more – more –more.” Until I’m delivered with it, over the edge and howling out my pleasure, the orgasm taking hold of me, until there is no more to be had and I’m delivered, crashing, into a crumpled ball of haze in the tub.

  In the blissful haze, there is the smell of vanilla everywhere, liquid vanilla running over my head, over my shoulders, down my back, over my ass.

  I’m flipped over and vanilla gets there too, spending extra time on my breasts, sliding down to my pussy, until I’m wet again and vanilla is satisfied.

  Picking me up, Gabriel leans over, engulfs my nipple with his mouth, sucks away and face in front of mine, smiling greedily says, “Now, it’s my turn.”

  Chapter 13

  Gabriel

  God, that look on her face alone could kill me: Utter submission.

  I throw her onto the bed. “Don’t move,” I command.

  And she doesn’t. She waits there, lying on her back with her legs akimbo and her naked chest heaving. Waiting for me, for what I’m going to do to her.

  I stride back, get the cream.

  I flip her over, spread the cream along the bends of the heart-shaped ass.

  Jesus Christ, that ass, that beautiful, full, waiting-for-it ass.

  She rises to all fours like a dog.

  I palm her ass, stroke up and down her silky ass crack, pressing into the hole, teasing it some more.

  She presses her ass into me further and my finger slides in easily. As I shove my finger in, she shoves her ass out further.

  “More.”

  I slap her ass.

  “Your job is to listen and get fucked. Not talk.”

  She groans, shoves her ass out even further, the word working its way out again as I pulse, going further and further each time, “Moooore.”

  Finally, I rip out my finger, throw her off the bed and shove myself into her, my cock between her ass cheeks into her crazy tight, crazy hot hole.

  “Unh,” is all she can say now.

  Burrowing myself in deeper, I growl in her ear, “What’s that? Didn’t quite catch that. You want more?”

  I grind myself in deeper, and she groans, her ass trembling.

  I slap it, shove myself in deeper, then pull out and slam into her so hard she hits the wall, both of us shaking in the aftermath.

  “Fuck,” she groans.

  I start pumping that sweet little ass of hers, pressing her head into the wall.

  “What’s that? You want more?”

  “Oh Christ, yes.”

  God I’m not going to be able to take much more of this. The way she’s just taking it, taking it up the ass, legs spread, ass shoved up. Not like she wants more – like she needs it.

  I pull out all the way.

  Well, more is exactly what I’m going to give her.

  I shove all the way in again and slap her ass, and she’s swaying in back and forth, grinding those thick cheeks around my dick while I’m inside of her.

  She starts to say something, but I slam her back into the wall.

  “Shut up, you’re for fucking, that’s all.”

  And then I ratchet up the pace, and her moans are in time to my slams and she’s shaking that ass, that sweet slutty little ass, and I slap it and she loses it, falls to her knees, just as I’m over the edge, cumming everywhere, all over her back, her ass, that ass that’s still trembling, shaking with what it wanted but couldn’t handle.

  When we both fall still, I pull out. Then, I pick up the fucked-out ragdoll and toss her in the bath, scrub the both of us clean. I pick her back up, toss her in bed and climb in beside her.

  I watch as she drifts away, the traces of a smile still on her parted lips.

  I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about this woman.

  ###

  When I feel a cool softness at my chest and open my eyes, I know.

  She wants more.

  The next thing I can feel are those cool hands running along my dick, her breath grazing my cheek.

  “When does the pussy get him?”

  I roll around so my back is to her.

  “When she’s earned it.”

  Now the lips are on my shoulders, kissing and sucking away all the tension.

  “What do I have to do?” she asks, her tone alone making me hard.

  I wait a minute before answering, torture her a little.

  “I don’t know…”

  “Please,” she groans, her hands snaking around to my front, stroking my chest, slowly moving down further and further.

  “Get in front of me,” I say.

  I sit up and she walks over in front of me.

  I have her stand there for a minute so I can enjoy her, let my gaze feast on her wide hips, her dick-wide landing strip, her cunt with a sheen of wetness already.

  “Kneel down,” I say.

  She kneels.

  “So, what will you do for it?” I ask casually, spreading my legs so she can have a full view of my cock.

  “Anything,” she murmurs, entranced.

  “Anything?” I ask again, shoving him out further, almost to her lips.

  “Anything,” she says, throwing herself on him with vigor.

  I pull myself away with a loud slopping sound.

  “Wait there,” I command, striding away to my bag.

  I take it out, hold it behind my back.

  I sit back where I was on the bed, put the gun in front of my cock.

  “You did say anything,” I say, my ironic gaze scanning hers. I shove the gun in her face, say, “Suck this off how you’re gonna suck me off. Suck this off good and hard.”

  There’s no hesitation, not even any fear; as soon as the words are out of my mouth, her tongue is out, running up and down the barrel’s length eagerly, never taking her eyes off me.

  Jesus, that look alone…

  Eyes still on me, she probes the muzzle with her tongue, then throws her whole mouth over the gun, going down until it hits the back of her throat.

  She pulls back with a loud smacking sound, then rubs the muzzle over her lips, over her cheek, over one tit and the other.

  My hand finds my dick. This is the best show I could ask for.

  She plays with her tits with the gun, then slips it back to her mouth. Then she’s engulfed it in those slick red lips again, sliding up and down in time to my dick strokes, as if my hand is her mouth.

  I’m about to come already, so I rip it out of her mouth.

  She flops back, spreads her legs, and I smile.

  “Not just yet. You haven’t earned it yet, slut.”

  I shove the gun between her legs, and she groans.

  “What’s that?” I ask, “Not what you expected?”

  I shove it in deeper and her gaze goes to my dick, which is so hard it almost hurts.

  I start pumping the gun in her, while her pussy clasps at it in ecstasy and exasperation,
her gaze never leaving the hard thing she really wants.

 

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