Starving For Vengeance

by Debra Kayn

  What continued to impress him was the way she took care of everyone. His MC brothers were oblivious to the way Shari always made sure she fixed everyone's meals, washed their clothes, and kept the women happy by giving them hints on how to handle the Silver Girls. She was mom, sister, and friend to them all, and not one of them ever questioned her if she was happy.

  He'd made her happy until he'd hurt her, and that bothered him.

  No one else knew she had another life away from Bantorus MC, except him. He walked to the stairs shifting his plan. It was time someone noticed Shari, and since he held the information she needed and could hopefully put a smile on her face, he wanted to be the one who gave that to her.

  She'd kept Tango's secret for five years. He could trust her to keep what he needed to tell her to herself. She had to know that she could trust him.

  Inside the club, he spotted Shari talking to Jojo. He headed in her direction, determined to put her at ease and take her worries about her uncle away.

  Ink stepped in front of him. "Hey, man. Germ's looking for smokes. You got any?"

  "No." Lee moved away and looked back in the direction where Shari stood. He cussed under his breath. She was gone.

  Jojo caught his eye and smiled. He approached her, needing to catch up with Shari before she hid out in the cabin.

  "Hey, baby." Jojo planted her hand on her hip and leaned forward. "What's the frown about?"

  He shrugged. "Cooped up and ready to ride."

  "Yeah?" Jojo laughed. "I can make you feel better."

  "I bet you can, sweetheart." He lifted her chin. "But not now. I need to talk with Shari first. Do you know where she's at?"

  Jojo's lower lip popped out before she rebounded. "She's up in Sawyer's room."

  "Thanks." He walked toward the stairs.

  "Anytime," Jojo called out behind him.

  He ran up the steps, hoping he'd catch Shari before she escaped with Sawyer. At the top of the landing, he stopped. Shari stood in Sawyer's embrace, her head turned away from him. He swallowed his disappointment. He'd chased her right into Sawyer's arms.

  No one claimed Shari. She was free to see whomever she wanted. She deserved someone better than him, but he couldn't walk away. He strode to the end of the hall, determined to be the man Shari looked for when she needed someone.

  Sawyer lifted his chin and continued to hold her. "Hey."

  "Hey." Lee glanced at Shari.

  Sawyer rubbed Shari's back that'd gone stiff when Lee spoke. That was going to end. If she were hurting, he would be the only one comforting her.

  "What's up?" Sawyer asked.

  Shari straightened and pushed away from Sawyer. Lee gazed at her and spoke to Sawyer. "Trump, man."

  Seniority ruled within Bantorus. Even though he'd only recently slapped on the patch, he was born into Bantorus and Sawyer had to step down when it came to the bitches, riding position, and orders.

  Sawyer leaned closer to Shari. "You need me later, find me."

  "Thanks," she whispered, kissing Sawyer's cheek. "I'm okay."

  Lee waited until he could no longer hear Sawyer's boots echoing in the hallway, and then he said, "We need to talk."

  "If it's about how the knife appeared back in my hands, I'll talk with you." Shari hugged her purse to her stomach. "But if it has to do with you and me having sex, I'm not interested. If that means going to Kurt and telling him that I'm being difficult and vote to have me kicked out of the club, go for it. I no longer care."

  She stared him in the eyes. He pressed his lips together. Her choice to leave the one place she was safe and go against her uncle's instructions to get away from him sat on his shoulders. He had to make her understand and keep her on Bantorus property, for her own sake.

  And, for his. He wasn't ready to let her go.

  "Let's go to my room and talk," he said.

  She watched him move away and only then followed him. He strolled down the hall and opened the second door. He stood back and let her enter. All he could think about was how strong she was to go through the last five years not knowing what became of her uncle and still trusting him. That said a lot about her devotion. The majority of women would've gave up and went back home, but she'd followed Tango's wishes, stayed in Federal, and made the most of a bad situation. That put her at the top of his list for qualities he respected in a woman.

  Trusting, loyal, and smart.

  Even though some might claim becoming Bantorus MC property as one of the worst things a woman could do, he knew the truth. It took a woman who was comfortable with herself and had the ability to open her mind up to taking orders from a club while retaining her strength and independence to survive.

  Few women were that strong. Taylor, Tori, Crystal, Brandy, Risa, and Shari. All of them had to change their lives, because of Los Li and accept their position within Bantorus MC.

  Shari leaned against the dresser, arms folded, and her chin hitched higher than normal. "Tell me about the knife."

  He stared at her. She was beautiful. She was passionate. She was a good person. A good woman. She deserved to know that her uncle was alive, still helping her stay safe in his absence, and the knowledge of knowing the only family member she had left continued to love her from afar.

  There wasn't anything about himself he could give her, but he could give her the security of knowing her uncle was alive.

  He moved over and leaned against the dresser beside her. "I put the knife in your purse."

  Her shoulders rounded and she muttered, "Oh, God."

  He folded his arms to keep from touching her. Instinct had him wanting to hold and support her while she accepted the truth, but that was for his sake, not hers. He blew out his breath, waiting until she grasped onto what he was telling her. There was more to come, and he was afraid of hurting her more if he rushed.

  "Is he...?" She cleared her throat, looking at him. "Is he okay?"

  Her eyes shined bright with emotions and behind her gaze, she'd opened herself up to him. Her need for any information outweighed her being pissed at him, and she was willing to listen.

  "He's fine. He's alive." He lowered his voice. "He's doing what he has to do to make sure you stay safe."

  Shari covered her mouth, whether to stay quiet or stop the many questions that his information brought to her, he had no clue. Her knees buckled, and her body slid along the front of the dresser. He moved and brought her to her feet, holding her close. She willingly leaned into him when a painful sob burst from her mouth. He cupped the back of her head and held her against his chest, letting her have her moment.

  "He's close, doll," he whispered. "I know it seems like he left you, but he did what he had to do to keep you alive."

  She cried harder, her body more a rag doll than the strong woman who stood up to him. He scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He cradled her on his lap, and smoothed her hair out of her face. If he could make the heartache go away, he would. But taking care of a woman, feeding her confidence, wasn't his specialty.

  "Can...can I see him?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "You need to let him do his job. It's important that you keep doing what you're doing. Don't mention him to anyone, and continue on with your plans."

  "But, I..." She sniffed and sat up, turning to face him. "Who are you, really?"

  He gazed into her eyes and for the first time, he wanted to explain what he'd done over the last fourteen years. He wanted to tell her everything he'd kept from Kurt, his parents, his club. The colors he wore on his vest were put there because he was born into the club, but deep where it mattered, he was a stranger to his family.

  "I'm a nomad," he said. "I don't deserve to be here, but I'm here."

  She frowned, moistening her lips. "I don't really believe that, because you're Kurt's brother. I've met your dad and your step mom."

  "You might not, doll, but it's the truth." He wiped the high ridge of her cheek. "Fucking beautiful," he whispered.

  A man used to living alone co
uld get used to having a soft body to lie beside every night, but he wasn't trained to dry tears or protect the fragile emotions of a woman. He had no softness in him anymore. He could crush her heart without thinking.

  "I'll walk you back to the cabin, so you can pull yourself together. Everything is going to work out okay for you and Tango," he said.

  "Tango..." she whispered. " I haven't heard someone say my last name for over five years."

  His chest tightened and he wrapped his hand around her neck, pulling her forward. He rubbed his nose back and forth across her nose, wanting to give her more, and whispered, "You're a strong woman, Shari Tango. Remember that."

  Shari held his face close. "Don't stop."

  He held still, unsure if he was reading her right. The news he gave her wasn't something to take quickly and accept easily. He'd give her time and space.

  Though there was no denying what she was doing when her lips skimmed his mouth. He was a gone.

  He tilted his head and when she tasted him, it wasn't a nibble. She stroked him deep with her tongue, savoring the kiss. His dick hardened and he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled back slightly, causing her to moan from the loss.

  "You sure?" he said against her lips.

  Her mouth smiled against his. He groaned, knowing there was no stopping him now.

  "I need this. Need you," she murmured, nibbling on him.

  Still unsure if he could take her there without causing more damage, he hesitated. Knowing she was settled with everything that'd happened was more important than adding more chaos to her life.

  Shari's hand roamed down his neck and pressed against his chest as she leaned back to look at him. "This isn't about my uncle. It's not even about you, so if you want to let me go, you can, and I won't be pissed."

  "Then who's it about?" he asked feeling her quick breaths against his collarbone.

  She lifted her brow, ran her tongue across the bottom of her front teeth, and said, "Me. I need to be with you tonight. I can't explain why, because I can't make sense of what's going through my head, I only know that I don't want to leave you right now because having you with me is the closest I've come to being myself in years."

  That he could give her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lee's eyes remained alert, focused, and for the first time, uncertain after Shari admitted she needed him. Her heart hammered in her chest. He wasn't moving. He wasn't speaking. He only kept looking at her.

  Within his gaze, he gave her everything. Warmth, compassion, understanding, and most of all himself. He let down his guard and gave her all of these things, inviting her to see inside of him.

  What she saw was raw beauty. A vulnerability that took more strength to show than to hide. She took in every little detail about him. The lines etched around his eyes and mouth. The hardness of his jaw. The wildness that came off him in a scent of leather and testosterone. The almost green flakes in his brown eyes that took the edge off his harsh expression. When he gave her all that, she could see beyond the nomad attitude.

  Scared that he'd leave her and go back to the cold indifference he'd thrown at her the last couple of days, she weaved her fingers into his hair, tilted his head down, and forced him to stay with her. When he remained, she touched her tongue to his lips.

  "Please stay with me," she whispered.

  Lee laid back on the bed, putting her on top of him. She straddled him, welcoming the position of holding him down and not letting him leave. He claimed her mouth and swallowed her gasp of surprise. In the fog of her arousal and the thrill of his participation, she sucked on his tongue, sparring and stroking, kissing him deep, hard, wet, and anxious.

  Her body ached desperately to wrap around him. Her conscious no longer reminded her that he was bad news, and she'd only end up with a broken heart. She needed him. She wanted him. She had to have him.

  His hands cupped her ass, grinding her against his hardness. Her sex pulsed. There were too many clothes in her way and an urgency to strip him bare overcame her.

  She pushed at the edges of his vest, and then she lost his touch. She lost him. She lost what was happening between them, because he'd set her aside and ripped off his vest, his shirt. He unlaced his boots with frantic pulls, and stripped off his jeans, taking his boxers and socks off in a whirlwind of motions.

  Then he had her on her back, stripping of her shorts and panties and his whole attention centered on the wet apex of her legs. She dug her nails into the mattress, caught between wanting to press her knees together and throwing herself spread eagle on the bed giving him free reign to do whatever came to mind first.

  The sensations, so incredibly intense, overwhelmed her and yet, she urged him on, wanting to go where he was taking her. Half hell, half heaven, she wanted to remain right here, taking everything he voluntarily gave her, and making sure he understood that this was more than sex. This was living, and to keep breathing and moving forward, she needed him in her life.

  "Don't move." He slid his hands over her knees and up the inside of her thighs.

  He was looking. She sucked in her breath. No, he was aroused and liking what he was looking at, which made her feel good, warm, wonderful. Oh, God. She never wanted him to stop looking at her.

  Urgency had her reaching for him, and the only thing she could grab was his wrist. "Now, Lee."

  His eyes flashed to hers and he said, "Say it again."

  "Now."

  His hand shook and he said, "My name, doll. Say my name."

  "Lee," she whispered.

  She no sooner had the word out when Lee landed between her legs, pinning her to the bed. His broad chest and shoulders filled her vision, and then he shoved his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back, taking her mouth.

  His weight settled on her, and his hardness teased the inside of her thigh. She rolled her hips against him, grasping his biceps. Her insides coiled and she wanted him inside of her.

  "Condom," he mumbled.

  His body shifted to her side, and he stretched to the nightstand and grabbed a foil package. While he concentrated on opening the wrapper, she lowered her hand between their bodies and rubbed the flat of her hand over his cock.

  "Jesus," he said inhaling loudly.

  Her own desire multiplied knowing she was responsible for the frantic movements of his fingers struggling with the package and the way his hips thrust against her hand. Her fingers curled around him. "Hurry."

  He groaned. Her hips jerked in response and her gaze locked on his. Her body vibrated, afraid that she'd come before he was inside of her, and it'd be over. She wasn't ready to have him leave her again and have reality come crashing down. This time with Lee was perfect, and she wanted to suspend the moment forever.

  Lee's heavy breathing filled the room and he straightened on his knees. She shoved his hands aside and rolled on the condom.

  He chuckled and scooped her back off the bed, changing positions and putting her on top. She planted her hands on his chest. She arched her back, rocking on his thighs. "Lee..."

  She wasn't sure what she wanted. Her body screamed for more, and she rubbed and bounced atop him to sooth the need spiraling inside of her. Her pussy dampened and her skin heated. She pulled her tank off her body and unhooked the front clasp of her bra. The weight of her breast, heavy with arousal, fell free and she rolled her shoulders, leaning forward until her nipples skimmed the hair on his chest.

  Lee's fingers dug into her hips and he groaned. "Sweet."

  "Lee... please."

  He removed one of his hands and hooked her neck, bringing her gaze back to him. "Then take it, doll."

  She took it.

  Hard.

  She filled herself with all of Lee.

  He consumed the empty space inside of her and more. He'd brought her life back and gave her hope that the last several years of being alone would be over soon. In the same instant, fear circled her, making her movements against him jerky. What did she have?

  The club.
>
  The Silver Girls.

  A home.

  Through the mess of her life, she hung on to one fact. Lee was right here with her, and leaving himself wide open with his deep eyes claiming her.

  Lee's hands roamed over her sides, her breasts. She moved from her knees to her feet, getting more height, more pressure, more leverage to ride him. Her legs shook as she rode him.

  He pulled her down, taking her mouth and her feet slipped out from under her. She yelped against his lips.

  "I got you," he said, thrusting his tongue in her mouth, his cock inside her pussy.

  Under his power, she rode the wave of his hips. He possessed her body, her mouth, and all she had to do was give herself permission to move with him. He slapped his hand down on her ass, gasping hold, and taking her higher. Her head shot back and she panted as her orgasm owned her.

  Lee dug his heels into the mattress and thrust his hips off the bed, holding her hips down and groaning his own climax. His body stiffened, shuddered, and then quivered as her sex pulsated in long deep rhythm around him, still coming, still holding him.

  His hand gripped her thigh and his harsh breath came out in a rush. She sank down onto his chest as his ass hit the mattress. She hooked her arms under his shoulders and held herself in place, not ready to separate.

  He bucked slow and softly, until his cock—satisfied and exhausted—slipped out of her. She sighed at the loss, wanting him back. Not because she was ready for another round, but because she was content for the first time in a long time and she wanted to stay that way.

  "I need to get rid of the condom, doll." He kissed the side of her head and rolled her over, putting her in his place on the slim mattress.