by M. Merin
Nudging him aside, there’s a low moan as I stick my head through the doorway. Fuck. Trying to push herself off the floor, Bree is in all her glory; half on top of what’s left of the shower curtain and with some blood dripping down her chin.
“Fuck. What the fuck?” I yell as she slips back down trying to cover her tits with one arm and duck away from the dog, who has slipped past me. “Fuck.” I know it’s not the time, but her breasts do not disappoint. She points towards a bathrobe, I hurriedly grab it as I hear Rusty clamoring up the steps.
I call out to Rusty to stay back and to find the leash. Covering Bree with her robe, I pull the dog out towards Rusty with orders to get him outside, that I’ll handle her. Rusty looks worried but doesn’t question me.
Heading back to and kneeling beside her, unsure of touching her, I can only ask, “What happened?” in a low voice, hoping to calm this woman who still hasn’t spoken.
“Turn around.” She says breathlessly. “Hot water stopped. It was ice cold and I tripped on the tub trying to get out. Hit my chin, knocked my wind out when I fell.” She says, still struggling to get her breathing under control. I’ve turned but can’t help but see her in the full mirror.
“What are you doing in here?” She asks, making eye contact in the mirror, narrowing her eyes to let me know that she doesn’t appreciate my appraisal.
“I was coming to talk and heard you screaming your head off.” I reply, “Let’s see that chin.” She whimpers as she tries to stand, obviously favoring her left leg. I move to get her on the toilet and kneel in front of her to assess the damage.
My hands on her leg cause us both to start; I hold my breath for a moment in an effort to will my cock back down, like a fucking teenager. My calloused hands, darkened by years of riding, glide up against her soft, pale skin causing a ripple of goosebumps in their wake.
“Please, could you just get me some ice?” She asks while grabbing for my wrist, causing her to loosen her hold on the front of the robe. Giving up at the sight of the valley between her nicely rounded tits, I start to lean forward. Guessing my intent she gives up holding onto the robe and moves her other hand to catch my chin; she forces eye contact between us. “Ice, Romeo, just ice.” She says, shattering my plans.
“I’m gonna need some too.” I quip.
“I’m sure that shower hasn’t warmed up, feel free!” She laughs, quickly blushing as she realizes what that would entail; I wiggle my eyebrows, turn off the water, and head in search of the kitchen.
Chapter 3
Bree
Well, that was unexpected and horrendously awkward. Maybe if I just stay in here, Flint will leave?
Feeling as though I conjured him while fantasying about him when I woke up and just now in the shower, I sigh and stretch my left leg. It doesn’t feel like I’ve done much more than strain my knee, bitten my tongue and wounded my pride.
I haven’t been in that close proximity to a man since my Alex died and have no doubt Flint noticed my reaction to his touch. At least I wasn’t the only one! His jeans looked downright uncomfortable there towards the end.
I stand shakily and check the damage in the mirror; a slight red lump forming on my chin. I grab a washcloth to wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth and batten down the hatches. Time to face Flint.
On the walk out to the kitchen, I see my door is shattered and that he’s discovered my collection of ice packs in the freezer. Two are on the counter, with dishtowels near them. “Why do you have four ice packs, woman?”
“Clumsi-itis.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a thing.”
“You only met me yesterday, wait till you see my first aid drawer!” I throw back. Really, I just bruise easy and tend to leap before I look. Using a dishtowel to secure an icepack to my knee, I dive right in. “What brings you here? I’m guessing you had planned to knock and not run through my door?”
“I’ll call one of my Brothers and get that fixed.” He offers, at least attempting to look apologetic.
“I fell; you were trying to help so I’ll pay for it if you know someone,” I reply.
“Woman –“
“My name is Bree – Brianna Lynch.” I jump in to get him to stop with that “Woman” shit.
“I know a plumber I can send by also.” He volunteers.
“From what I’ve heard, you know everyone.” Deciding to cut to the point, I spit out: “Except me. Now you want to know where we stand.”
“I’ve lived my whole life here, the MC lives and breathes this town and has, well, fostered it. Town is growing but yeah, I am curious as to why you decided to buy into a mid-sized dot on the map.”
“I upset your applecart, you mean?” Flint shrugs at my question while maintaining eye contact.
“Look, I liked the town, the bar, and Rusty. I’ve been on the road, seeing the country for a year. That wasn’t fair to Ragnar; I wanted to stop moving for a bit and decided on this spot. I don’t care about the game that goes on downstairs, I’m not trying to make waves, but I own this place now and I’ll keep to myself as long as no one shits on what’s mine.” I end with more bravado than I feel.
“Where did you learn to play poker?”
“My husband taught me.”
“Is he around?”
“Dead.” I succinctly reply. I can almost say it now without a tremor in my voice.
“Rusty didn’t mention that.” Flint’s frown seems to be deepening every minute of this interview.
“I can’t imagine how he would know. Actually, if that tidbit makes the news feed at the diner, I’ll know the source.” I sass back, winking at him. Not missing the widening of his eyes, nor their quick glance down towards my boobs. I nearly groan aloud as I feel my blush start from my chest, quickly rising up my neck and to my face. Damn it! I had nearly managed to forget that he saw all of me not ten minutes ago.
“Glenmorangie?” I throw out, keeping my title of non sequitur queen. Putting the ice pack on the counter, I test my leg a little first then head to grab the bottle. Having learned interrogation techniques at the feet of an Irish grandmother, there’s no reason not to turn this little interview of his around.
“No Jameson’s, Ms. Lynch?” Throwing his right eyebrow up in question.
“Expand your horizons a bit! Rocks or straight?” I ask, scavenging for cubes for my glass, then more for his once he declares his preference. Moving over towards the couch, I glance out to the backyard; checking to make sure Rusty had attached Ragnar to the lead line I had installed for him back there. He’s jumping through the high grass near the fence line, thoroughly enjoying himself.
Flint has followed me over from the kitchen area, setting the bottle on the coffee table. He stands over me, waiting for me to get settled and arrange my robe, looking back and forth between the chair and the opposite end of the couch like he can’t figure out the right answer to an important question.
“Where ever you prefer,” I say, hoping to expedite his decision while handing him his glass. Walking to the far side of the couch, he settles his large body in a few inches from where my leg is stretched out.
“How about you Flint? Are you married?” I catch him off guard and hide my smile behind my whisky glass as he proceeds to choke on his sip.
Recovering himself, he shifts to face me full on. “I was. She left a long time back. Flings here and there since then, but nothing that stuck. How long were you married?”
So, we’re in for a game of twenty questions? “Almost four years. Do you have children?”
He smirks right back at me, catching how this is going to work. “Three, all with my wife. Was he your only husband?”
Ouch. A direct hit with that one, I was not a young, blushing bride when we married. “Yes. What is your preferred handgun?”
“Interesting diversion. Sig Sauer, you?” His strokes his beard as he lets out a rich, deep chuckle that makes me pause, it doesn’t sound like he’s accustomed to laughing.
“Glock. How many
bikes do you have?” I counter.
“Three. How many felonies have you committed?” Whisky shoots up my nose and it’s my turn to wheeze.
Bright red, I quickly answer. “I’ve never been arrested,” As I reach over to refill my drink and catch my breath.
Contemplating my next question, Flint places his hand on my ankle and slides it up to wrap it around the middle of my calf. Grinning, he watches as goosebumps once again flare under his touch, he finally breaks the silence.
“Doll, you and I both know you didn’t answer my question.” His smoldering, brown eyes darken as he stares unblinkingly at me. Fuck. Me.
I press my thighs closer together as I feel the floodgates in my long-neglected kitty open. My movement gives me away; he glances down my body, simultaneously tightening his grip on my leg. Shifting my lower legs off the couch and away from his touch, I lean forward and with a lopsided, little smile I say:
“Why, Flint, how many have you admitted to?”
Accepting defeat in the game I started, I walk towards the kitchen to get a measuring tape; tossing it to Flint, I ask him to call his man about the door before heading to the bedroom to get dressed.
I’m not doing this. I tell myself over and over while grabbing jeans, a bra, and a t-shirt. I am not getting involved with anyone in this town. Well, that is getting ahead of myself. Maybe I can get him to scratch this itch I have then walk away? Still, doing anything of the sort when I’ll have to interact with him afterwards is asking for trouble.
I look over to my bed, making sure my vibrator isn’t lying about. The water heater is in a closet in this room, so with a call needed to sort that out, I can live without any talk from the local plumber.
Walking back out to find Flint near the door and on the phone, he’s a step ahead of me asking whoever it is to arrange for someone to look at the water heater. I motion to get by him, Ragnar’s been downstairs long enough; but Flint pins me in, putting his free arm on the door frame to make sure I don’t avoid him. He continues answering questions from whoever is on the phone while maintaining eye contact with me.
I’m not doing this, I try repeating to myself. The intimacy of his stare is too much; I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes. He steps forward and tucks my head into his neck, his beard tickling my cheek. Breathing in, I feel even more enclosed. He smells of oil, mountain air, and whisky; his body calls to me in a way I haven’t felt in so long.
Without any further thought, I lean forward and lightly kiss his neck. When he presses further into me, I continue a trail up towards his earlobe.
His free hand slides down behind my head and he pulls me back to look at me before disconnecting his call.
Flint
Watching her walk towards me in her fresh clothes and long, wet hair, I have no doubt she means to escape the space. Escape me. The thought pisses me off, nearly as much as her breaking away from me on the couch. I smelled her cunt get wet for me; she can’t possibly think I’ll let that go? Her game took an unexpected twist, yet somehow she seems even more irresistible.
The first touch of her lips on my neck is like a jolt through my entire body. I feel it everywhere, all at once; I also feel her uncertainty so I quickly move into her, covering her with my body. Finishing up my call with Gunner, I lean back and reach a finger under her chin. “The guys will be here in a half hour or so, they’ll get something figured out.”
“Uh huh.” She says, eyes darting towards the broken door. “I have to get Ragnar.”
“Later, Bree.” I toss my phone on a nearby table and lift her, cupping her ass cheeks so she’ll wrap her legs around my waist; I slam my mouth down on hers as I walk back to her bedroom.
Kicking her bedroom door closed, I kneel on the bed and gently set her down. Our mouths barely break contact as we each tear our own clothes away.
“Fuck. I don’t have anything, Bree!” Indicating my cock that’s standing up, inches from her. I’m well past the age to walk around with a condom in my back pocket. “Shit, this isn’t something I do anymore.”
“Are you clean, Flint?” Bree asks as she wraps her hand around my dick and gently pulls it towards her.
“Absolutely. I get tested every year, although I haven’t had any partners in a long while.”
“I can’t exactly get pregnant,” She smiles at me; indicating a scar that goes down from her navel. “I haven’t been with anyone since my husband.” She shrugs and draws me down on top of her.
I reach a finger down to swipe it over and through her naked slit, finding her just as slick as I had hoped. “So goddamn wet, Doll.” Sliding my finger into her, she clenches her walls around my digit.
“Your cock, Flint! I want your cock in me.” Shifting my finger up to her clit, I furiously start to rub it causing her to arch off the bed.
“Bossy, Bossy!” I chide her, nibbling her neck below her ear. Her hand reaches back down for my throbbing dick again, this time lining it up with her hot, wet center; her little moans beg me to relieve us both.
I thrust into her good and hard, her cry of surprise at my sudden entrance causes me to pause until her legs circle my waist and she moans, “More!”
She’s so goddamn tight I’m not sure how long I can last, but I work her clit and lean over to lick and suck her nipples until I feel her orgasm all up and down the length of my dick and her sobs of pleasure start to fade.
I know I should pull out but I want to mark this woman, I want her to feel my seed inside her; so for the first time since my ex-wife, I give a few final thrusts then let my cum spray up inside Bree. Finishing with what can only be described as a roar.
I can’t remember the last thing that felt this good.
I can’t remember the last time I wanted a woman this badly.
The most primal part of my mind has just marked her as my own; I look down at her and the soft smile on her face is my absolute undoing. I know I will do anything necessary to keep her by my side. My dick is softening inside her and I’m looking forward to our next time as she leans up to whisper in my ear.
“Can you get off me, please?”
Chapter 4
Flint
My jaw drops and I arch back to look down at her; she’s looking up at me with a little grin and proceeds to wiggle her hips and give me a little push to get me further off of her. Sliding to the side, my gaze narrowing as she gathers her clothes.
“Can you get dressed? I don’t want your friends to think we…” She shrugs and waves her hand in the air with her back to me. “Well, to have anything to talk about.”
Heading to the bathroom, her lush, creamy ass makes me want to follow her anywhere. Hearing her finish and move out to the living room is when I truly realize she isn’t coming back and that cuts me to the core. I know she enjoyed herself, my ear is still ringing from her screams. She thinks we’re going to do that once and we’re done?
“I’m not going anywhere,” I mutter to myself in her room. Getting dressed and heading to the bathroom to clean my dick off, I get as pissed as I’ve ever been. The thought pops up that I’ve behaved this way to more than a few women, but I quickly squash it. Never promised anyone anything more.
Entering the living room, I take the time to study her pictures along the hallway wall. A steady progression of Bree’s life, several of a man I imagine was her husband, and pictures from her travels. I’ve only been outside the U.S. to Canada and Mexico, but it looks like she’s seen a lot of the world.
I turn back towards the door as I hear the dog coming up ahead of her. Bree tilts her head at me but walks to the kitchen to get the dog’s meal without comment. Waiting for her to acknowledge me, I watch her graceful movements almost as eagerly as Ragnar – whose eyes are on his food and water bowls.
Setting them down, she turns and starts to speak as my phone rings. “What?” I answer Gunner’s call.
“Where you at, Boss? Vice is coming into the lot now, too.” He answers. Giving them directions up to the apartment and ending the
call, I turn back to Bree. “Gunner, um, he’s in the Grizzlies; he’s a carpenter and will get this door replaced. Vice, also a Brother, is right behind him and does plumbing / HVAC / general contracting type work; he’ll look into your water heater problem. Why don’t you put your dog in the other room?”
Her eyes are narrowing as I speak but as she opens her mouth to reply, Gunner is knocking on the frame of the shattered door. “Boss, what happened? OH! Hey, we haven’t met.” His attention is drawn over my shoulder to Bree, as he walks towards her Vice quickly overtakes him introducing himself.
“I’m Vice, and you are?”
“Bree. My water heater seems to have kicked it,” She says, shaking his hand then Gunner’s. “Ragnar, down!” Following her own command, she sinks to the floor to hold onto her dog. All three of our eyes are quickly glued to the sight of her chest in her v-neck tee. “Hopefully y’all like unruly dogs?” She laughs, looking up at us.
Noticing our overly interested stares aren’t focused on her pet, she squares her shoulders and gets down to business.
“Gunner, Flint thought you could replace my door? I know its early-afternoon but I need a solution so I can sleep here tonight. Vice, my water heater went out, I also need a fix sooner rather than later; follow me, please.” She could be a dancer the way she stands in one fluid motion before I can think to reach my hand out to help her. Clumsi-itis, my ass.
Still trying to determine her age, I follow behind Vice and her dog, leaving Gunner to figure out the front door. Past the bathroom and into her bedroom, I’m fighting the urge to growl. I nudge Vice when he pauses too long at the bedroom door, taking in the messy king sized bed.
Bree has opened a closet door to show the water heater and a stacked washer / dryer along the wall that would back up to the bathroom and kitchen.
“Work some magic for me?!” She asks, giving Vice her lopsided smile, she steps aside to let him check out something other than her ass. I hang back, waiting until I can clear up something Vice is obviously missing.