Tray (A Hell's Harlem Novel Book 2)

Home > Romance > Tray (A Hell's Harlem Novel Book 2) > Page 7
Tray (A Hell's Harlem Novel Book 2) Page 7

by J. M. Walker


  “Okay.” My heart melted. Was that even possible? I reached over and rummaged through the drawer. A laugh escaped me. “Porn?” I held up a magazine.

  He winked. “Best kind.”

  “Haven’t you heard of Pornhub?” I teased, putting the magazine away, and grabbing a condom from his stash. “That’s what people look at these days, old man.”

  “Old man?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. We watch it on the internet. Have you heard of it?”

  “Oh, little girl. You are so damn lucky this is your first time.”

  My heart stuttered at the threat hidden beneath his words. “Or else what?”

  A wicked grin spread on his face. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you watch porn.”

  “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I don’t know how to please myself.” I opened the condom and pulled out the rubber. “Now what?”

  “Fuck me.” Tray grabbed my wrist. “Your innocence is going to fucking kill me.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He blew out a slow breath. “I’ve never been with a virgin before and it’s …”

  “What?” I whispered.

  “It’s taking everything in me not to flip you over and just shove my cock deep inside your cunt. But that position can wait. Right now, I need to feel you. I really need to fucking feel you.” Tray grabbed the condom from between my fingers. “Touch me.”

  Before I could think twice about it, I wrapped my hand around him. I never expected him to feel so … soft. Even though he was hard, the skin was velvety smooth. The veins twitched beneath my touch. A groan rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest. His hips started moving, thrusting his cock into my hand.

  “Fuck me, baby. That … I can’t … Shit.” His hand covered mine, guiding me up and down the length of him. “So fucking good.” His eyes snapped to mine. “You’ve never touched a man before.”

  I shook my head even though it wasn’t a question.

  He blew out a slow breath and leaned over me. “I’ve jerked off twice today and I know I’m still not going to last long.”

  “Y-you did?” I asked, my eyes wide.

  Tray kissed my forehead, giving me back the condom and helped me roll it down the hard flesh of his cock. “I wanted to make it last. To make it feel good for you.”

  “It already does.” I lifted my hips, the ache inside of me becoming more pronounced the longer time went on where he wasn’t inside me.

  “Shit, Beauty. You know how to make a man feel good about himself.” He kissed my nose and then my mouth. “Grab my hand. This is going to hurt.”

  My heart hammered in my chest. I linked our fingers, cupping his shoulder with my other hand.

  Spreading my legs even wider, I watched him line up his cock with my soaked entrance.

  “I wanted you to come on my tongue, but I need this. I need you.”

  “Take me,” I whispered.

  He pushed the tip inside of me, stretching me.

  He was bigger than the toys I used. The slight burn of him stretching me turned into a delicious roar of pleasure.

  I moaned, arching beneath him.

  Tray pushed a little deeper, pulled out, and slid back into me, inch by erotic inch.

  “Oh, God.” My nails dug into his shoulder, our joined hands tightening, squeezing each other as the pleasure consumed us. “Tray.”

  In a smooth move, he thrust forward, filling me to the hilt.

  I cried out, my body shaking around him.

  “Fuck.” He shook above me, petting a hand over my head. “So damn tight.” He pulled out slowly, slamming back into me so hard I could feel the back of my teeth rattle.

  “Harder,” I whimpered, my pussy clenching down around him. “Tray,” I whined.

  Covering my mouth with his, he slid his tongue between my lips and picked up speed with his hips.

  The pleasure was so great, I couldn’t think straight. I had never felt anything like it. It was unnatural how good he felt inside of me. Spots danced behind my eyes. His groans and grunts of pleasure slid over my skin.

  “Tray.” I broke the kiss, arching beneath him, and took him even deeper. “Please. Oh, God. Oh, God.”

  Grabbing my hips, he pulled me farther beneath him and rested his arms above my head. “Can you feel that, Zillah?” he asked, brushing his cheek against mine. “Can you feel me fucking your soul?”

  “Yes,” I screamed, the sudden release crashing into me. But it didn’t make Tray stop. No. Instead, he only fucked me harder and faster.

  “Come again. Come all over me, Zillah.” His pelvis slammed into mine, the pain from him stretching me no longer there.

  I moaned, taking everything he had to give me and more. My gaze flicked to the mirror above us. His back muscles rippled, the tattoo of the monster moving with each powerful thrust. His ass flexed as he powered forward and back. My body became wetter for him and I couldn’t help but watch the way the monster moved.

  Grazing my hand over the tattoo, his skin was damp beneath my touch. The way Tray was moving made the monster almost look like he was smirking. And it only turned me on that much more. A tingle spread from my toes, hitting me in the chest. The monster was claiming me. Taking my virginity and making it his. And I couldn’t help but crave more. Every inch. Every thrust.

  Tray pulled out of me, the loss of not being filled by him leaving an emptiness I never thought I’d feel.

  “You see that?” He pushed the tip of his cock through the slick folds of my pussy.

  I glanced between us, noting the red liquid coating his shaft.

  “Your virginity is mine, Beauty.” Flipping me onto my stomach, he landed a hard swat on my ass and slid back into my waiting and ready body.

  “Now this is my favorite position,” he purred in my ear.

  “Yeah?” I spread my legs even wider for him. “Why?”

  “Because.” He kissed my shoulder. “Eventually, when you’re ready, I can fuck your ass.”

  My eyes widened.

  He chuckled, inching a hand beneath me.

  I jumped when his fingers came into contact with my clit.

  “You’re going to come again for me. And you’re going to come until I feel like you’ve had enough.”

  I whimpered, shaking beneath him, and let him have complete control. Over me. Over my body. Over my soul.

  THE NEXT MORNING, I woke up to the delicious scent of coffee and food. But I didn’t care about the food. It was the coffee that I was more looking forward to.

  “Zillah,” Tray purred in my ear, giving my shoulder a soft nip. “Wake up.”

  I groaned, turning away from him, and wrapped the blanket tighter around me. As much as I wanted the coffee, sleep sounded better.

  He chuckled, ripping the blankets off of me.

  “Hey,” I cried, shivering as the cool air washed over my naked skin.

  “Hmm …” He licked his full mouth, raking his eyes over me. “I could get used to this.”

  “What?” I pulled the blankets out of his hands and covered myself. “Pissing off the woman who woke up in your bed?”

  Tray laughed. “No.” He handed me a mug. “I don’t want to piss you off. But I could definitely get used to seeing you in my bed.”

  I grinned, shaking my head, and took the mug from him. Inhaling deep, I let out a low moan.

  “I didn’t know what you take in it.” He sat beside me and turned on the TV.

  “This is perfect.” Black was how I took it. Even if there was milk in it, I would have drank it. It was sweet that he thought to make me coffee. “Where’s yours?”

  “I don’t drink coffee.” He leaned against the headboard.

  “You don’t? But you made me one.” I took a sip, the hot liquid enveloping me in a blanket of bliss.

  “I did.” Tray patted the spot beside him. “That was me being nice, as you put it.”
/>   I sat beside him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  Wrapping his arm around my middle, he brushed his fingers beneath my breast.

  I pulled the blankets higher, covering myself, and continued drinking the coffee. I enjoyed this. Waking up beside him. Sitting in his bed. Naked. I noticed then that he had on gray sweatpants and nothing else. And for the first time, I actually noticed that his room reminded me so much of the owner. It was dark but warm. It didn’t show too much about the person living in it but it was everything that made up Tray.

  The furniture was a dark cherry wood. A large floor-to-ceiling bookshelf sat in the far corner with two chairs before it.

  “Do you have plans for today?” I asked him, needing to hear his deep voice.

  “I have to take a ride.” He cleared his throat but never met my gaze.

  My stomach twisted. “Oh. Where to?”

  “Just drink your coffee and I’ll take you home.” He kissed the side of my head and slid off the bed. Pulling off his pants, he turned toward me.

  My heart thundered behind my ribs.

  “Zillah?”

  I coughed, my gaze raking down his naked form. His cock jumped under my scrutiny. His muscles twitching under my watchful stare. “I didn’t know they came in this sort of package.”

  Tray laughed, the sound vibrating through me. He crawled back onto the bed, pulling the blankets from my grip, and wrapped a hand around my ankle. “I suggest putting the mug on the nightstand.”

  “Oh?” I took a sip of the coffee. “And if I don’t?”

  He grinned, pulling me toward him in a rough move.

  I squealed, some of the coffee splashing over the side of the mug.

  Tray chuckled, taking it from my hand and putting it on the nightstand. “Spread your legs. Let me see you.”

  My throat went dry, but I did as I was told.

  He towered over me, his dark eyes roaming down the length of me. “Fucking perfect.” Wrapping his hand around his cock, he stroked and pulled. A few more pumps and he was coming on my stomach. “Shit.”

  “Oh … my,” I breathed, the warmth of his release coating me.

  “You turn me into a prepubescent boy.” Tray kissed me softly on the mouth. Running a finger through the white creamy liquid, he rubbed it into my skin. “I want you to smell like me. I want every man who comes into that damn shop to smell me. Fuck, Zillah.”

  “Tray.” My chest rose and fell.

  “You need to go on the pill.” His dark eyes snapped to mine. “Promise me. I need to feel you whenever I want.”

  “No.” I pushed him back, licking along his bottom lip. “You need to fuck me whenever you want.”

  Tray cupped my ass, lifted me in his arms, and carried me to another room.

  I covered his mouth with mine, sliding my tongue deep between his lips and taking from him everything I wanted at that moment. I didn’t want to go home and face the day. I didn’t want my father to question where I had been or for my brother to give me a hard time about sleeping with Tray on the first date. I just wanted Tray. Him and me. And I wanted to feel. Every inch of him inside of me. Again.

  “Beauty,” he growled against my mouth, slamming me up against something cold.

  I broke the kiss just as water rained down over us. I realized then that he had carried me to the shower.

  “Tell me you’ll go on the pill,” he pleaded, thrusting his cock between the soaked lips of my pussy.

  “Yes,” I promised. “I will.”

  “Good girl.” Tray released me and lowered to his knees. “We’ll take a shower and I’ll drive you home but first, I need to taste you on my tongue.” He winked. “Again.”

  (Tray)

  After I had dropped Zillah off, I headed back to the clubhouse. As much as I wanted to spend the rest of the day with her, I knew I had to get shit underway. I didn’t need her father on my ass and I also wasn’t ready to let it be known that I was in a biker club. Even though I didn’t feel like I was. I’d been a loner most of my life and preferred it that way. But then Greyson came along and everything changed.

  “What’s with the stick up your ass?”

  My back stiffened. I turned, finding myself coming face to face with the large fucker known as Greyson Mercer. He was the vice-president of Hell’s Harlem. I had actually never met him before now.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to refrain from having a bite in my tone, but I didn’t like being called out in front of the guys. Although no one had said anything, it didn’t mean I wasn’t embarrassed any less.

  “You come into the club like your shit doesn’t stink.” Greyson jutted his chin. “You a spy? You’re not patched. Who the fuck are you?”

  Funny thing was, we had become friends instantly after that. But I was a hothead and shoved him. Demitry stopped it, and ever since then, I couldn’t stay away.

  Pulling into the parking lot of the large house, I gripped the steering wheel and let out a heavy sigh. I should have ridden my bike. There was a lot of shit I should have done.

  A tap on the window made me jump.

  Opening the door, I saw Greyson standing a foot away.

  “Everything cool?” he asked, crossing his arms under his broad chest.

  “Yeah,” I grumbled, stepping out of the vehicle. “How’s everything here?”

  “Fine.” His deep blue eyes zeroed in on me. “You didn’t spend the night here last night. Why not?”

  Greyson never butted into our business but most of us had a routine we followed by. When that routine changed, it threw him off. And rightfully so.

  “I spent the night at home,” was all I said.

  “Who is she?”

  My back stiffened. “Why?”

  “Because I need to know if you’re going to break Catch’s heart and I have to pick up the pieces.” Greyson took a step toward me. “Tell me.”

  “Just because you boss your wife around doesn’t mean you can do the same shit to me,” I threw back at him.

  Greyson laughed. “I don’t boss her around. In fact, she’s the one who wears the pants in our marriage and that doesn’t bother me one bit. You want to know why? I’ll tell you,” he said, instead of waiting for me to answer, “because I know she loves me. I know that no matter how much of a dick I am, she’s always there keeping me in line. Can I say the same for you?”

  My jaw clenched. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”

  “Tray.”

  “Greyson,” I snapped. “Just drop it. I’m done with this shit.”

  “Like fuck you are.”

  I shoved past him, heading toward the house, and stopped just at the base of the stairs leading to the front doors. The large building had been another home to me for the past several years. For as long as I could remember. But ever since a year ago, it felt like anything but.

  “I miss her.” Greyson came up beside me.

  “Me too.” I looked up at the house. Greyson had kept up with the maintenance, putting all of us to work and making sure the grounds were top-notch. If there was something we didn’t know how to do, we were either trained or he had professionals come in. They were also paid extremely well to keep their mouths shut no matter what they saw or heard. But again, it still didn’t feel like home. “Have you talked to Butcher?”

  Greyson stiffened beside me. “No. Not since we saw him a few months ago at Trixie’s grave.”

  Butcher, or John, but no one called him that, lost his wife just over a year ago at the hands of a madman. Butcher was unleashed onto the fucker and left shortly after. He took his twin boys with him and we hadn’t heard from him. Not since we paid his wife Trixie’s grave a visit and found Butcher sobbing. But that was several months ago. We got a postcard every now and again but that was it.

  “It’s been a year,” Greyson murmured. “I know he visits her grave often.”

  “You saw him?” I asked, glancing at him. “Other times, I mean?”

  “I pulled
up as he drove away, once. The other time was with you and Catch. I miss the fucker but I won’t push him. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

  I nodded. “If he ever comes back.”

  “True.” Greyson clapped my shoulder. “Come inside. We’re having a meeting because I’m on edge and need to see you guys.”

  “Where’s Eve?” I followed him into the house.

  “Taking a nap with Jaron. He doesn’t sleep well so she stays up with him.” He let out a heavy sigh. “We had him checked after everything that happened and the doctors said he’s fine but I don’t know.” He looked at me then. “Can a baby have trauma from something they’ll never remember?”

  I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “I don’t know.”

  He nodded. “Me neither.”

  We headed into the meeting room just as the rest of the club members joined us. I sat on one side of Greyson while Catch sat at his other side. He nodded to me. I did the same. And that was that.

  “Listen.” Grey rubbed a hand over his head. “There’s really no point to this meeting. I just needed … I don’t even know anymore.”

  “Whatever you want boss,” Psycho, formally known as Marc Taylor, said, leaning forward.

  “Is there an update on … anything?” Greyson asked, desperate for the information that we couldn’t provide. When in all reality, things were quiet. But it put us on edge. And he didn’t like that. At all.

  “Have you talked to Demitry?” I asked. “Maybe he has new information for us.” We had been trying to keep our noses clean. Make a good name for the club but we were bikers. We were shit on before we even spoke.

  “Yeah.” Greyson shoved a hand through his hair. “I got us some charity work to do at the local animal shelter. That’s what he wanted us to do for right now.”

  My ears perked up at that information. “Animal shelter?”

  He glanced my way and nodded.

  “Perfect.” I clapped my hands together and sat back.

  A round of chuckles sounded throughout the room.

  “What? I love pussy. Doesn’t matter if it’s the cat or human kind. Pussy is pussy.” I shrugged. Truth was, I loved cats. All animals really but cats were my favorite. They did their own thing, not giving a shit what anyone thought. They were my spirit animal.

 

‹ Prev