Broken Memphis (Little Memphis MC #2)

by Bijou Hunter

  "Is that code for more please?"

  "Yes, sir. Now shut up and do that again."

  He responds by pulling at one nipple with his teeth. When he nips at one hard nub then the other, my pussy clenches like a sex-starved beast. My fingers slide into his hair while he sucks and bites my nipples. Pax loves my tits, and I think he'll never stop.

  My squirming finally distracts him. "You're wet."

  "Fucking duh."

  "You want this, don't you?" he asks, leaning over me while stroking his cock. "Can you feel me inside you?"

  "No because you're not inside me. Fix that problem."

  "Say please," he murmurs, caressing my clit with the thick head of his cock.

  I stare into his beautiful eyes and say, "You said you'd never make me beg."

  "I lied."

  Sharing his smile, I whisper, "Please, Pax."

  Before I'm ready, his cock opens me up, and everything else disappears. All I can feel is the heat of his body inside mine. All I can hear are my breaths coming fast as he moves deeper and deeper until I can't take more of him. Unbearably full, my body shivers, leaving goose bumps on every inch of me.

  "Pax," I say softly.

  He looks down at me, and I think he wants to say something. Maybe something too emotional. Maybe he's afraid to make a promise he won't keep. Whatever he wants to say, Pax chickens out.

  Rather than using words, Pax shows me how he feels with a good, hard fuck. Not hard and ugly like with Howie. This is something amazing. Pax might have magic hips or a supernatural cock. I just know the pleasure makes me cuss like a sailor and come like a porn star.

  16

  Pax

  Worship Me

  Fucking Bebe is better than I dreamed. Maybe I lack imagination. She feels so perfect that I worry she'll run off once the last drop of cum pumps from my cock. Bebe proves me wrong again by exploring my tats with her tongue.

  Bebe licks the skull tattoo circling my bicep. "When did you get this one?"

  I start to answer until we hear Lula's coughing on the monitor. Pausing, we wait to see if she wakes up. When she remains quiet, Bebe nips gently at the flesh of my armband.

  "Got that one when I became an enforcer. You know, because I leave behind a graveyard."

  "Doesn't Ford have the same tat?" she asks. "Did you copy him?"

  Slapping her ass, I'm startled by how Bebe gasps. Our gazes meet, and I worry a little rough touch will piss her off. For a long moment, she stares at me before smiling.

  "If you spank me, I'll spank you. Keep that in mind, sir."

  Even grinning at the idea of her spanking me, I roll my eyes and return to the tattoo conversation. "Why does everyone always assume I'm copying Ford?"

  "Because he's older. I copied my sister."

  "How?"

  "You know how girls crimp their hair?"

  "No."

  Sitting up, Bebe shows me on her hair how the style works. I try to care, but she's naked, and I can feel the heat coming from her pussy. Thinking is hard enough when she's dressed, but this is fucking impossible.

  "So I thought crimped hair look stupid," Bebe says, brushing her lips against the Reaper tattoo on my ribcage. "Then Sabine and her friends did it, and I changed my mind. When she decided to wear animal prints, I wore them too. Sabine seemed cool, so I copied her. Ford is cool, right?"

  "Yah, I guess. He's lame a lot too."

  Leaning forward to suck at the tattoo just above my nipple, Bebe sighs. "Ford is whiny, and he smells weird sometimes."

  I frown darkly at her. "When does he whine?"

  "All the time. He's always complaining like a little bitch. Well you know how he is."

  "Ford doesn't whine," I growl.

  Bebe grazes my stomach with her teeth then grins up at me. "I know, but look how cool he suddenly is when someone else shits on him. You're a little bro, and you want to be like your big bro. No harm in that, assuming your big bro doesn't suck."

  "Well played, baby."

  Running her tongue down my inner thigh, Bebe zeros in on my cock. I nearly come the moment she slides me down her throat. My hands grip the sheets while she sucks me slow and deep. When my hand grips her hair, Bebe smiles and licks the head. I want to tell her how fucking hot she looks. Before I can, she grips my cock then bobs her head up and down faster and faster. My body clenches with need, and I think I say her name. I go fucking blind and deaf for a minute. All I can feel is pleasure.

  Bebe sucks me dry and leaves me worshipping at the altar of her blowjob skills. When I imagine how she learned to give head so good, my temper flares. Wolfman doesn't deserve to speak to a woman as amazing as Bebe, let alone to have fucked her.

  "Did that hairy loser teach you to suck cock?" I ask as she rests her head on my thigh.

  "No. Sabine and I practiced on vegetables. First with carrots before graduating to cucumbers."

  "Man, you were the frigging Brady Bunch, weren't you?"

  "You mean secretly kinky?"

  Grinning, I watch her climb over my lap and nestle next to me. "Are you tired yet?"

  "No."

  "Good. I need more before we call it a night."

  Bebe's focus is on the smiling skull tattoo on my shoulder. Watching her trace it with her finger, I admire the way her dark lashes flutter against her pale skin.

  "I've been wanting to ask you something," I say, caressing her thigh, "but I worried about putting you in a bad mood."

  Bebe flashes a glance at my face then returns to the tattoo. She kisses the flesh softly then nips at the blade sticking from the top of the skull.

  "Let me be a killjoy and ask anyway. How did your mom die?"

  Nuzzling her cheek against my arm, she stares at where my fingers tease her knee.

  "Two girls were fighting over a corner or maybe it was clients. They were on the street, screaming in the middle of rush hour. Mom tried to talk them down before Howie's brother showed up. She was trying to help, but one of the girls shoved her into traffic." When Bebe pauses, I wonder if she'll cry. She doesn't. "I don't know if it's true, but the doctor said Mom died quickly and didn't suffer."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Thanks. She lived better than a lot of women in my family, but I wish she was around to meet Lula."

  Taking her hand, I press it against my chest. "I'm not good at small talk after fucking. Usually I keep things light, but you're not other chicks. You're my brother's fiancée's best friend. Guess that makes you special, so it makes me want to talk about your dead mom."

  Bebe gives me an odd look, but she knows I'm struggling. What are we? Friends? Lovers? Is she my woman now? Am I looking for what Ford has or am I afraid to be alone? We don't know the answers, so the room falls silent for a few minutes.

  "You ever go to church?" I ask her finally.

  Bebe shakes her head and wraps one of her legs over mine.

  "We did sometimes. Depended on what family we were living with. I hated church and Sunday school. Learning about the Bible was just learning another bunch of rules. So school was boring, but I remember one book was about heaven. I liked the idea of a quiet place where we're all happy and get to see people we've lost."

  Caressing her head, I continue, "If I thought about Ford dying, I'd get paranoid and want to shoot everyone just in case. Since killing everyone wasn't a smart move, I'd think about heaven. I told myself that if he took a bullet, I'd see him again. Of course, that's assuming a guy like me can get into heaven. I mean, it's not like I'm great at following rules."

  "No, you're not, but you also do sweet things like trying to make me feel better about my mom."

  Feeling like a douche, I admit, "Asking about your dead mom was a pretty stupid move, but you should be happy I'm not being fake with you. That's good, right?"

  Smiling, Bebe straddles me. "Yes, very good."

  I study her plump tits with hard red nipples. They're so much hotter than I pictured, and I'm again struck by my lack of imagination.

  Her lips find
mine while her pussy strokes my cock. Arms wrapped around my neck, her eyes tell me everything I need to know. Flushed with hunger, she knows I'm the only thing that'll satisfy.

  Bebe's pussy opens for me then clamps down as soon as I'm inside her. She closes her eyes and groans in the most beautiful way. I watch the way she licks her lips and grips my shoulders. Once her eyes open, she smiles.

  "I could get addicted to this."

  I can't think of a single fucking thing to say, so I wrap my arms around her waist and fuck her. Bebe holds onto my shoulders and works her hips with mine. Cussing and groaning, she makes such sexy fucking sounds. I'm obsessed with her every noise and the way she moves. When she comes, Bebe pulls at my hair while leaning back her head.

  "Fucking, Pax, fuck," she moans, causing me to grin at the wild tone of her voice.

  "You are addicted," I tease when she loosens her grip on my hair.

  "Sorry, but I thought sex was horrible or dull. Never like this."

  "I don't care if the only guy you fucked was Wolfman. I'm taking that as a compliment."

  Bebe leans forward, sucking on my tongue as her hips move faster. I close my eyes, feeling her every muscle tightening around my cock. I relish the way her fingers snag at my hair. Of all the women I've been with over the years, I need this one to worship me. Based on the look on her face when we come together, I know she does.

  17

  Pax

  Breakfast of Champions

  Lula is a great kid even though she excels at the role of cockblocker. I guess I don't blame her. I'd hug all over Bebe 24/7 too, if I could. Instead of enjoying a morning fuck, I'm left with only a long kiss at the front door before heading out to the club breakfast.

  Bebe looks so sexy in the morning. Her tired eyes watch me walk to the Harley under the carport. Her goodbye smile makes me feel like a fool, but I don't care. Why shouldn't a man enjoy the good shit? Why does anything have to mean more?

  Ford is playing suck-face with Shay when I pull up to their house. Annoyed by their love, I decide to head to the diner. Unfortunately, I arrive at the same time as Madden, who barely glances at me before strutting over to his younger brother. I can't imagine having such a turd as a sibling. Trigger's sons suck, making me appreciate Ford more when the asshole finally arrives.

  "Your woman smells like pickles," I say, walking into the diner.

  "Your woman looks like a pickle."

  I hit him in the arm. He follows up with an elbow to my chest. We're about to go full-fledged wrestling match when Joker comes up behind us.

  "Don't make me get the belt," he sighs.

  I smirk. "No, daddy, we'll be good."

  Joker gives me one of his smartass looks then disappears into the backroom of the restaurant.

  Ford and I order our food then sit across from each other so we can share snide glances and kick each other under the table.

  I've just dipped into my hash browns when Sharpie sits down next to me. Normally the fucker keeps his distance since slapping him around is one of my hobbies.

  "You know that job you wanted me to look into at your place?" Sharpie asks me.

  "No."

  "The one in the backyard for the kid staying there."

  "Did you dream this, Sharpie? I know you fantasize about me a lot, so I wouldn't be surprised."

  Ford kicks me under the table, and I glare at him. He only stares with his dark blue eyes until I get the message. Grunting, I glance at a nervous Sharpie.

  "I'm not overpaying just because you're a club bro, so don't pull any shit with me."

  "Do you always have to be an asshole?"

  "I do what comes natural."

  Sharpie rolls his eyes. "I'll give you an estimate. If you don't like the numbers, you can fuck off."

  "Fine. Talk to me about it after I eat."

  The rest of breakfast is Big Dick babbling about a few dealers giving the club trouble. His big plan is having Zombie deal with them. Ford gives me a look that means nothing to the others, but I know he smells a con. Zombie isn't a guy sent to do dirty work alone. He makes a fucking mess even when he has a grownup looking over his shoulder. Fuck, I've even been nervous around Zombie.

  What Zombie lacks in sanity, he makes up for in loyalty to Uncle Trigger. These days, apparently loyalty to a bad plan matters more than protecting the club.

  I don't add anything to the discussion. My mind returns to killing Taz's lackey and Bebe's expression when she saw him dead. Reminiscing our every moment in bed, I miss the part where breakfast is over.

  Ford waits for me to shove my final sausage links into my mouth. I hold his gaze and chew widely, so he can enjoy the view. His steely expression never falters. I finally swallow and grin at him. He shares my smile as we stand.

  "Sharpie, we have shit to do today, so come over now and give us the estimate," Ford says.

  The jackass to my right nods. He also shoots me a nasty look. I can barely contain my need to punch him in the face.

  Outside, Trigger is laughing his ass off. He still looks sickly after his heart attack months earlier. Despite his health issues, the man is living the dream. All he needs to do is kill off his vice president and a few of Joker's loyal guys. Yeah, everything is fucking peachy for Trigger.

  18

  Pax

  Switching Sides

  Lula hears me enter the house and squeals in excitement. Too bad I can't get that kind of welcome wherever I go. She's waiting for me at the top of the stairs. Picking her up, I'm overwhelmed with guilt when she hugs me. The kid relies on me too much already.

  Bebe is in the kitchen, washing dishes and ignoring my arrival. What's a man got to do to get her to squeal? Oh, I can think of a few things.

  "You bored of me already?" I ask, holding Lula while finding a Coke in the fridge.

  The expression on Bebe's face puts me in the awkward position of getting hard with a damn kid in my arms. Bebe smiles and takes her daughter.

  "When are we leaving to get the tree?" she asks.

  Grinning at the way Lula squeaks with excitement, I pop the can open. "I got a guy coming over to talk with me and Ford. We're playing some game I don't know the rules to. Once he leaves, we'll take the truck and get our tree. Think you can wait that long, Lula?"

  Nodding, she looks ready to burst out of her skin. I can't remember being that excited about things when I was little. Of course, I don't remember a whole lot from when I was little, besides Ford always being around and how much I loved hot dogs. Otherwise, good riddance to my childhood.

  Lula slides on her shoes and lets Bebe fix her hair. Sitting on the couch, I watch my girls and think about being a family man. I can do this shit. If an idiot like Sharpie can have a wife and kids, I can nail the father and husband role.

  Bebe glances at me, and I see lust in her eyes. She nibbles at her bottom lip then lifts a brow as if to fuck with me. I glare at her for making me hard, but my irritation only makes her smile. She needs me to want her. Since we met, I noticed how she tried to disappear when men were around. Sex wasn't something she craved. Oh, how things have changed.

  I laugh at the idea of her as a sex-craved manic. Lula laughs too because she's bouncing off the walls. Nearby, Folgers trots downstairs, and I know Ford is here.

  "Are you getting the boys a tree today?" I ask my brother as we wait outside for Sharpie.

  "Yeah. Bebe told Shay, so now Shay wants to get a tree this very minute. I swear she's as excited as the boys."

  "Wanna go together?"

  Ford kicks at the rock garden near the steps. "Sure, but I'll need you to hold my hand and hug me and shit."

  "I promise."

  Ford grins. "Joker called and said he thinks Sharpie might be setting us up. Then he called back and said Madden told him Sharpie was gonna ask for our help."

  "Pretty boy always knows shit."

  "And rarely shares any of it."

  Frowning, I whisper, "You think he'll take out his dad?"

  "No, but I've been
wrong before."

  My plan is to point out the many times he's been wrong. We hear an approaching Harley, so I keep my mouth shut.

  Sharpie is a big guy, and most people fear him. A few houses over, our elderly neighbor hurries inside at the sight of the biker. Ford and I might seem safe after all these years, but the club terrifies the locals.

  As we sit in the carport, Sharpie pretends to be interested in engines. I don't want to listen to him bullshit us. Not when Lula is in the house waiting for her first real Christmas tree and Bebe is waiting to reward me later for making her baby happy. Sharpie's problems don't mean crap to me.

  "Zombie is stalking my little sister," he blurts out.

  Ford nods. "Yeah, he'll do that."

  "She goes to the community college and has a job. She's trying to do right, and now that fucker is stalking her."

  "You talked to him?"

  "Yeah, but he just nods and says the sky is blue or the wind smells like mint. I talked to Trigger too, but he says Zombie don't mean any harm."

  Crossing my arms, I mutter, "So why are you telling us, if the boss says to let it drop?"

  Sharpie looks me in the eye. "Trigger is planning to kill Joker."

  Ford and I glance at each other then back at him.

  "Did he tell you that?"

  "He told the club that. Not you guys or Lucky or the people Joker brought in. Trigger's been having secret meetings."

  "You know telling us this shit could get you killed, right?"

  Sharpie's stupid face twists into a panicked frown. "Trigger's gonna let my sister be raped and killed. We'll find her in a ditch somewhere, and he'll pretend he doesn't know who did it. That leaves me with two choices. I kill Zombie myself and wait for Trigger to kill me. Or I come to you and swear allegiance to Joker. He knows it's bad to have fuckers like Zombie running loose."

  "Where's your sister now?"

  "I had her move into my house. Once she finishes the semester in a few weeks, I'm sending her out of town to stay with relatives."

  Ford scratches at his dark beard "We can't make promises. I mean, you're coming here and making accusations against our president. It's not like Joker is going to just gonna take your word."