Misguided (Fallen Aces MC Book 5)

by Max Henry

  “There’s something else, isn’t there?” I push my head back into the bedding so I can see his face clearer.

  He looks down, away from my eyes, and smiles. “I wanted the time to be right,” he murmurs, “but I don’t know if it ever will be, if it’ll ever be perfect enough for what you deserve.”

  I reach for his face, cupping it in my palms, and run my thumbs over his cheekbones. “Right for what?”

  He sucks in a deep breath as I let go of his face, and holds my gaze as he admits, “I love you, Mel. That’s how different you are, how much you mean to me.” He frowns, seemingly unsure of himself. “If you don’t feel the same way, just don’t tell me, okay? Just … I don’t know. Pretend a while longer? I don’t want to lose this just yet.”

  I chuckle, tucking my chin up as I look at this vulnerable man who hid behind the lie. “Oh, Dog. I’m sorry.”

  His eyes slip closed, the pain so clear.

  “I like you, a lot, but I couldn’t love you.”

  He tries to move away, yet I loop my arms under his and hold him to me with my hands pressed flat on his shoulder blades.

  “Hear me out, please.”

  The anguish in his gaze as he reopens his eyes almost has me second-guessing what I’ve said, except he has to know.

  “I can’t love you, Dog, because it wouldn’t be fair to Koen.”

  His lips twitch in the corners, as though he’s not quite sure whether he should believe what I’ve said.

  “I love you, Koen. Even when he’s playing pretend.”

  “You fuckin’ devil woman.” He grips my face hard between his hands, his palms covering my ears so tight that my sense of hearing is blocked, heightening the kiss he delivers.

  I feel my way along the curves of the muscles in his back, down to the dip before his butt as he pulls back and takes me in with new eyes. He grumbles, deep in his chest, as I circle my thumbs in the dimples at the small of his back.

  “I could do this all night, you know.”

  “We’ve got all night,” I remind him.

  “Enough talkin’ though, babe. Actions, not words from now on.”

  I chuckle at the playfulness in his eyes, the rise of his cheeks as he flashes the dashing smile that’s ruined more women than I’d care to acknowledge.

  “Okay.”

  I let go of his face and hook both thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, then push.

  “Yeah,” he grumbles in that throaty way that drives me wild and lifts his hips.

  I wrestle them down past his thighs, and then hook a foot in the material to thrust them clear of his legs. He kicks the boxers off, knocking my legs wide as he settles his between them again.

  The fire outside is near non-existent; the shadows overtake inside the tent making Dog no more than a silhouette as he retreats to kneel between my ankles, his hands on either side of my thighs. I reach out for his hair again, knotting my fingers in the lengths as he leans down, his strong shoulders arched, and runs his nose up the damp fabric between my legs.

  I damn near hit the roof when he drops his open mouth over my panty-clad mound and gusts a heavy breath against the swollen flesh beyond, sucking it back in equally as hard to create a contrast of hot breath interspersed with cool night air.

  “Fucking smells like magic,” he mutters, easing the fabric aside with one finger.

  I never thought of somebody smelling me would turn me on, but damn, it so does.

  The tip of his tongue meets bare flesh, flicking, teasing, taunting. My chest aches with the moan that breaks free as he brings me to the edge. I grip his hair with such conviction I’m sure his scalp must be on fire, and yet he doesn’t seem to mind; it makes him lick faster.

  “Fuck, Dog … that’s …”

  “Good?” he mumbles around my pussy.

  I just about come from the vibrations alone.

  “Yeah.” My head drops back, and I run my fingertips around the shell of his ear, along the line of his jaw, and back into his hair as he continues to eat me out like a man who hasn’t feasted for days.

  I’m reminded of the reputation he has among the women of the club when he waits until the absolute last moment before I explode, and then slips two fingers inside to finish me off with such intensity I trap his head between my thighs as I cry out my release.

  He’s known to be a master in bed, an animal between the sheets, and a guaranteed good time. He’s known for the fact he doesn’t get attached—ever.

  And yet here he is, as attached to me as he could get, after telling me that I’m the one for him. It seems as though I tamed the bad boy without really trying. But to be honest, I think he was never that wild to begin with.

  Dog raises up on his elbows between my quivering legs to give me a wet grin, and I can’t help but laugh, finishing off with a sigh.

  “What?” His smile grows, his eyes wrinkled at the corners as he wipes his mouth with the back of one hand and sits back on his heels.

  “You’re mine,” I say, trying not to sound as crazy as I feel. “All mine.”

  He eyes me, tipping his head slightly as he takes his erect cock in hand and strokes it slowly. “How did you not know that already?”

  I squeeze my thighs one last time at the tingles that still remain and then shift to my knees. “Guess I was too focused on wanting to be yours.”

  He chuckles, pulling me onto his lap. “Babe, you’ve been mine since you first stood before me with a bottle of Jack and asked if I wanted a drink.” His eyes grow dark, the hunger as raw as his voice. “I just needed to prove it.”

  I loop my arms over his shoulders and shuffle up his thighs, tilting my hips so as to rub the length of him in the process. His fingers bite into my ass cheeks as he takes a firm hold, and lifts me higher to line my pussy up with the tip of his cock.

  “We can’t,” I whisper.

  He groans, hands tightening to the point of pain. “Why? I thought we went over this shit already?”

  “No, I mean I haven’t been on birth control since I left.”

  He gently sets me down on his thighs, the restraint a true testament to the man as he leans to the left and snatches the strap of the pack. I watch as he unzips the top compartment, fusses around, and comes out with a condom.

  “Really?” I tease. “That confident?”

  “I like to plan for the best,” he says with a smile as he tears the foil open.

  My muscles clench, watching him sheath that weapon, anticipating what comes next. Sure enough, the second he’s covered himself he lifts me once again and without any hesitation, lowers me over him.

  My eyes roll back, my head lolling to the side as he fills and stretches me.

  “Okay?”

  I nod, wriggling in my seat a little to ask for more.

  Dog lifts me and then drops me down again, this time harder. I rest my hands over his forearms, feeling the muscles at work as he sets a punishing pace.

  We didn’t stand a chance at making this last. That’s what the second, third, and every time after is for. The first? Let’s just say the two of us have some frustrations to work out.

  I cry out as he rocks hard into me with every drop of his hands, moving my own to his shoulders so I can steady myself. Our skin slick with sweat, the air in the tent stifling due to the heat we give off as Dog grits his teeth and groans.

  “It’s too …” His words fail him as he stills, and then slams hard into me twice before resuming the frantic pace from before.

  He didn’t need to finish what he tried to say because I get it. It is too good. Almost saddening to think we took this long to realize what we have.

  I feel him swell inside of me as he murmurs, breathless, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

  My own release follows soon after, intense and crippling as I collapse against him whispering back, “Mine.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Dog

  Ever tried to fire a rifle while your cock throbs against the restriction of your pants? No? Well, consid
er yourself lucky then. It’s a hell of a distraction to put up with.

  I line the makeshift target up in the sight again and then shuffle my hips for what feels like the millionth time. Pretty sure Mel thinks I went straight to sleep last night, but the truth is I lay there staring at the plain green canvas stretched over me, trapped in my thoughts.

  She fucking loves me back.

  I don’t know if life could get any better, right now. I’ve officially become one of those guys who gladly places his balls in his woman’s handbag. She could ask me to do anything at all, crazy or insane as it might be, and I’d fucking get it done.

  Dew soaks the front of my pants, sending a chill through to my bones that snaps me back to the now. I lie on my stomach in the clearing, rifle set up to sight it in before we head out. The first hues of dawn broke through the canopy of the trees half an hour ago, rousing me from my shit attempt at sleep.

  I draw in a deep breath, and fire.

  Slightly to the left.

  If I had my own rifle, not this new unbroken one, I wouldn’t need to do this shit. But Dad being the asshole he is, I shouldn’t have been surprised he’d pull that kind of shit on me.

  Still makes my blood run hot when I think about how he spoke to Mel, though.

  “Could have given me some warning.”

  I roll onto my left shoulder and look behind me at the woman in question as she stares out from the door of the tent. Her dark hair falls in messy waves over her shoulders, my sweatshirt pulled low over her crouched legs. She’s a fucking sight for sore eyes, even in her sleepy morning state.

  “Got you up, though, didn’t it?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Almost made me wet myself in the process, too.”

  I chuckle, rolling back to my stomach and clicking the dial on the scope two to the right. “Hey, Mel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m gonna shoot the gun.” Crack.

  “Asshole,” I hear muttered behind me before the rustle of the tent fabric.

  Bang on target. I set the rifle down, and then push up off the grass to go check exactly where I hit the empty tin from last night. Mel emerges from the tent, dressed and ready to go, as I walk back to my firing spot with the tin in hand—hit perfectly center, thank you very much.

  “Is it not a problem making all this noise?” she asks, her arms raised high as she ties her hair back.

  I freeze a moment, just ogling the slender line of her neck and remembering how soft that flesh felt beneath my lips last night. I’m fucked. As bad as it sounds, I guess I got one thing going for me given Judas is six foot under—no crazy old man trying to kill me when he realizes I fucked his daughter.

  Only her equally crazy younger brother. Damn.

  “Ideally, nope, I wouldn’t be makin’ this much noise. But there ain’t any point tryin’ to hunt something if you’re just gonna miss it anyway.”

  “Can I try?”

  “Sure.” I point to her air rifle, which I loaded before mine. “Use that first. It’s ready to go.”

  She picks it up, and then promptly leans it against her leg, barrel pointed at her head while she fixes a loose strand of hair.

  I slap a hand to my face and shake my head. This girl’s going to kill me; no way in hell is she carrying the “real” gun while we’re out today.

  “What?” Mel asks, picking the air rifle up again and walking over to my squashed patch in the grass.

  “If that was an actual rifle, and it misfired, you would have just blown your head off.”

  She stills, staring at me while it sinks in. I swear I almost see the cogs turning behind her eyes.

  “Oh. Right.” A blush colors her cheeks as she looks down at the damp grass. “Is there something to lie on?”

  “The ground.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Hilarious.”

  I cross my arms and watch as she lowers herself to the grass, pure disgust on her face. “I didn’t pick you for the prissy type.”

  “I’m not,” she snaps. “I just don’t have another change of hunting clothes if I get these ones soaked.”

  “Shame,” I mutter behind my hand, picturing her crouched beside the fire in her bra and panties while we dry them off. Note to self: find a stream to push her in. “You know what you’re doin’?”

  The look she fires across at me has me lifting my hands in surrender.

  “Yes, Dog. I know how to shoot. I just haven’t done it much.” She positions herself with the stock tucked into her shoulder, cheek rested against the pink design as she lines up the second target through her open sights.

  The can vibrates with a loud ping.

  “Got the other pellets?” she asks with a smug smirk.

  Ignoring the fact I feel like a chauvinistic douche for assuming she’d need more practice, I point to my rifle beside her. “Still got plenty in it. Have a go with that.”

  She sets the pink air rifle aside, and brings the heavier model to her shoulder, propping the end on the small log I dragged in for doing exactly this.

  I give myself a sneaky slap to the face to knock the lust out of my gaze. Seeing her laid out like that in her cute-as-fuck pink camo pants and fitted T-shirt, holding my gun … fuck me dead. A man’s allowed to role-play, right?

  The crack of the rifle echoes off the trees as the can falls. She rolls to her side and waggles her eyebrows at me, and damn it all if I don’t want to kick that rifle aside and fuck her senseless all over again.

  Stay on task, Dog. You’re here to clear her head.

  Much rather be filling something else after getting a taste.

  “We’ll go check where you hit it, huh?”

  She’s up like a rabbit, darting over the dewy ground to collect the tin. Her lips curl on one side as she inspects it on her way back to where I stand, tucking that motherfucking boner into the waist of my boxers.

  How the fuck did I think I’d survive several nights in the woods with her?

  “Show me how you did, babe.” I jut my chin towards her treasure as she inspects the entry and exit hole.

  Right at the top, but definitely square enough.

  “Good work.”

  She beams, clutching the tin as though it’s a fucking trophy. “Not just a pretty face, huh?”

  “Never said you were.”

  Mel pushes up onto her tiptoes to smack a kiss to my cheek. “Thanks for taking me out, Dog.”

  I link my arm around her waist and hold her to me. “We haven’t started the actual hunt yet.”

  Her eyes search mine, and she smiles. “Haven’t we?”

  I should let go, pick up the rifle and the daypack and get us going before the morning’s over. But fuck … she just licked her lips.

  “Dog?”

  “Yeah,” I breathe.

  “Are you going to kiss me, or am I just going to stand here pretending I don’t feel your dick shoved against me a little longer?”

  The corners of her eyes crinkle as I lift a finger to the side of her face and stroke a line to her chin. Our breath heats the morning air between us, her gaze flicking between my eyes as I slide my finger under her chin and tilt her head up a little. Her body goes lax in my hold, the air escaping her lungs on a sigh as I ever so gently lay my lips on hers and capture the bottom one in a pinch. Her back arches, those full breasts pressed hard against my chest as she silently urges me to continue, to stop stringing her out.

  The anticipation is what I love the most, that excitement that builds deep in your chest and shoots outwards in a buzz that rips through your limbs. I hope it never goes away when I’m with this woman.

  I don’t hesitate a second longer, using my fingers pinched on her chin to angle her head so I can thrust my tongue inside her sweet-tasting mouth. She groans, swirling the tip of her tongue around mine as though licking me clean like a bowl of cream.

  Mel pulls away, a smile twitching at her lips before she leans in again. One taste was never going to be enough.

  I’ve kissed plenty of women in my
time, but I honestly can’t remember the last time I enjoyed simply making out with a girl like this; driven by nothing but my raw hunger for her taste, the warmth of her lips on mine, and the remnants of her kiss tingling on my tongue.

  Sure, the sex was great, but damn, there’s so much more to her that makes her special. So much more that I enjoy about being with Mel, and each little thing has its own perks.

  “You might think you’re messed up sometimes,” I murmur when she finally has her fill. “But baby, the most beautiful things I know are faultless in their imperfections.”

  She snorts a contented little laugh and then shoots her arms around my middle, holding me tight as she nestles the side of her head to my chest.

  It’s all I wanted; for her to feel secure and okay about where she is in life. Some really shit things happened to her these past two years, and anybody who thought wrong of her for taking the impact hard is a lesser person in my eyes.

  We all deal differently.

  “Ready to go shoot something?” I ask.

  She untangles herself from me and, with a deep breath, nods. “Lead the way.”

  A few minutes later, I have her air rifle stowed away inside our tent and a daypack on my back. I agreed to let her carry the rifle, only because she looked like a lost lamb without anything in her hands. Plus, I think she gets a kick out of looking all kinds of badass, even though her pink camo softens that a little.

  “How far do we walk?” she whispers as we step through the tree line and onto a worn path through the forest.

  “It’s about twenty minutes.” Vines grow over the fallen branches on the forest floor, making it a trap for anybody who isn’t watching where they step.

  In a perfect world, I would have come up here a few weeks ago and scoped the place out, looked for sign, and made a plan of attack to ensure we get a kill. But life with the MC, as quiet as it is right now, doesn’t lend much to getting out anymore.