Outlaw's Kiss

by Nicole Snow

  When she finally came outta the kitchen, carrying chips and salad for herself, I sank down in the chair next to her. Little sis gave us some badly needed privacy by rushing off to her room. Hoped like fuck the homework or reading or whatever the hell the teach handed out would keep her occupied for a little while.

  “You're gonna need to pay that tutor extra to stay late or get Jackie a babysitter tomorrow.”

  She looked up, crunching on a chip, cold and annoyed with me at once. God damn. How the hell did she stay on edge all the time without going off like dynamite?

  “Why's that? Something to do with this lipstick crap I've been hearing about?”

  Fuck. Just my luck she would've heard whores and brothers talking about it. Those fucking parties were usually the biggest every quarter. Before shit got bad with the cartel, brothers came north voluntarily, eager to get their dicks sucked, ringed with every shade of lipstick the sluts wore before fucking them to the wall.

  It was pure debauchery. The last one was when I started fucking Twinkie, fisting her blonde locks as she got my load down her throat. Bitch added her deep ruby stamp to the lighter shit left by the two girls before her.

  My cock jerked just thinking about it. And then it jerked a whole lot harder when I imagined Missy dolled up like a whore, her tongue all over my dick. Having her sweet lips full of me would sure go a long way to giving her some damned humility.

  “Well?” she asked again, working through a few more bites.

  “Yeah. I want you there to clean like usual. Trust me, you'll wanna do it too. Less work the next day. This bash'll undo some of your hard work after a buncha brothers and their girls crash through the clubhouse like a drunken fucking whirlwind.”

  She shrugged. “Isn't that every day? I hear them through the walls...”

  I shook my head. “You haven't seen shit. Tomorrow's gonna be worse because we're all on edge. Best way for most guys to blow off some steam is getting their dicks wet.”

  “Nice. I'm glad us old ladies have such an important place in your world.” She looked disgusted.

  I was starting to get pissed. No matter how many times I kept my cool and took her bites as they came, she always managed to get underneath my skin.

  “It's the way things are. I don't make the rules in the Grizzlies MC. I just follow them, same as all our traditions.” I tried not to growl. “Look, you've got the wrong idea if you think old ladies are running around screwing every brother in sight. That's the sluts' job.”

  “Whatever. I'm just glad you're not pimping me out. I doubt the rest of your buddies would be so kind.”

  My eyes fixed on her harder, wondering if that was a compliment. One thing was certain: no matter what the fuck I did, she loathed every minute with me and the club. And that made me want to strangle my dick every time it pulsed for her, as if this was just another tease I could claim by throwing her on my bike and carrying her to my room.

  If this was playing hard to get, then it was the most fucked up chase I'd ever seen in my life.

  “It won't be bad. All you gotta do tomorrow is collect trash and serve drinks. Suzy'll mix the shit at the bar, so you don't have to worry about that end of it. I'll be there the whole time. Shit, you can have a few drinks yourself and drive us both home when it wears off. I'll take my truck instead of the Harley.”

  “Joy!” The wicked smile beaming on her face almost had me fooled. Then it melted into the same lifeless frown dragging on her face since I'd pulled her into my life.

  “You don't have to love this, babe,” I said. “But you do have to get through it. These little outings are the only way you're ever gonna convince Blackjack and the others to let you go. They gotta know you're one of us, trustworthy and absolutely –“

  I stopped just short of saying it. Calling her mine when she damned well wasn't was the dumbest fucking thing I could've pushed through my lips.

  Hell, it wasn't even a good act. It never was. Blackjack saw right through it. He proved as much when he gave me shit about it this morning, and I saw the warning written between the lines.

  If I couldn't pull her further into my orbit, and at least make her act like a good old lady, then all bets were off. They threatened to collapse at any time with the Mexicans lighting fires in our backyard.

  I was about to remind her what the fuck we were doing in this crazy arrangement before she held up her palm.

  “Don't say it,” Missy snapped. “I've heard it all before, and I'm going to follow through. I promised you that much. Even if I hate it – and I will, Brass, every fucking second – I'll get through it. I'll do anything to make sure Jackie and I get out of this alive.”

  I stood, looking her over, trying to hide the lust in my eyes with pure dark menace. Showing mercy hadn't done shit for that bad attitude. Maybe a little intimidation would.

  Just standing over her wasn't gonna cut it. My hands reached out before I knew what I was doing. I reached down and pulled her up, grabbing her, slamming her to my chest.

  Fuck, those full tits felt so good pressed against me. One inch closer and she would've felt the hard-on ballooning in my jeans, raging for her, making my heart beat me deaf, dumb, and blind. My dick hummed with enough fury for my heart and soul.

  “Make sure you do,” I said in the most glacial killer tone I had. “We're all depending on you playing your part. Any fuck up, and we're dead.”

  I didn't say another word. Neither did she. I let go and took off. Missy didn't yell after me as I stepped out and slammed the door behind me, heading for another long ride through Redding to clear my head.

  Bitter satisfaction flowed through me when I realized I'd gotten the last word.

  We went in later that day, after she'd made sure the tutor was lined up 'til midnight. The bash started about five, a couple dozen tanked up brothers and just as many women stuffed into the clubhouse.

  Everybody was there from our crew, Sacramento, and even a few visitors from Nomads running up and down the west coast. The Prez was conspicuously absent, but it only seemed to liven things up. Having Fang there eyeballing us wasn't anybody's idea of fun.

  No brother needed to dig deep to see the darkness ticking away in his eyes, the single-minded obsession with moving us around on the chess board 'til the club or the cartel broke.

  Rabid disappeared early in the evening with Red and another girl, some dark haired slut I'd never seen before. I was left alone with a bottle of Jack and molten lava hitting my dick in waves. Girls halfway undressed passed by me with brothers holding their hands.

  Some were on the floor, hands between their legs, grunting as they teased their clits and warmed up for the men. Others were still fully unclothed, their ruby red and royal purple lips wrapped around every dick they could find, sucking brother's off in the hallways and underneath the tables. But it wasn't that shit turning me to steel.

  It was the little flashes of Missy I caught moving through the crowd, bending over to give brothers their drinks and pick up the shit they'd left on the floor. Christ. Her ripe, round ass did more to feed my furnace than all these other bitches would've buck naked, all of 'em wrapped around me, eager and ready at the same damned time.

  The only chick I wanted was out there, doing her job like a robot, and she'd been programmed to spit pure fire my way. Especially if I wandered up to her in this state.

  Shit. My brain turned to mush an hour ago, sprouting the happy fuzz I always got when I marinated my guts in too much booze. I stayed well away from the assholes flopped on the floor with their girls, pushing nasty shit into their veins.

  More guys were drugged and fucking in their rooms, their doors left wide open. I walked down the hallway, dick straining when I saw all the hot, sweaty bodies pumping. The thought of having mine between one special pair of legs got me harder than granite, my dick and nobody else's going in her sweet pussy, claiming what should've been mine by rights for throwing the old lady label on her.

  If I ever got a piece of her naked, it wouldn'
t be slow, sweaty, or loving. It was going to be a raw, ruthless, mind-bending fuck, a fuck that would leave her shaking long after I erupted in her pussy, splitting her whole fucking world apart and filling it with me. Really, truly making her mine.

  Fuck, my dick ached like it was recovering from a lightning strike. Guess it was – thinking about Missy's warm pussy without having it hurt just as bad.

  I tipped my bottle to my lips and poured more napalm down the hatch, stopping in front of Rabid's half-cracked door to watch him empty his nuts in Red. His bare ass bobbed between her legs, twitching with pleasure as he cursed and tweaked her nipples, blowing his load deep in her cunt.

  Shit, shit, shit...

  The flap of my boxers was soaked. I'd lost so much pre-come thinking about her, wandering around like the drunken fuck I was, that I was starting to figure out how strippers felt after dancing in their thongs all night.

  Halfway down the hall, a hand reached out and jerked my cut. I couldn't resist the pull, growling as I spun and hit the wall. Whoever the fuck did it put their hand way too close to my name patch. Nothing pissed a brother off more than having his colors messed with, front or back. I was just as ready to fight for 'em with my life as anybody here.

  “Hey! You better have a damned good reason for fucking with me like –“

  Before I could get another word out, a small flash of curves smashed against me, and lukewarm heat covered my lips. Twinkie's kiss was all tongue and teeth, so warm and wet my dick jerked in recognition.

  Fuck me if my arms didn't fold right over the small of her back. Big mistake. The slut took that as a signal to grind right into me, pushing her pussy against my jeans, nothing between her slick little slit except a pair of lacy black panties with GRIZZLIES MC stamped in red on the ass.

  I knew those panties well. I'd ripped them off and pushed them in her mouth while we'd fucked a dozen times before.

  Her tongue was darting in and out my lips, urging me to tongue-fuck her back, when I finally opened my drunken eyes. The door was still open. Somebody was standing out there watching us, and my vision narrowed on her standing there, mouth hanging open and eyes wide in shock.

  Missy looked like she'd seen a fucking ghost. Her fist wrapped around the broom so tight her knuckles were like ivory.

  The raging bull in my pants collapsed and started to go soft. I tore my mouth away from Twinkie's and gave her a rough push. Bitch had a powerful hold with her fingernails. She spun around and was still hanging on me when I was halfway into the hall, her bare legs sliding seductively on mine.

  Enough.

  I bucked my hips hard, shoving her to the wall. I'd never hurt a woman, but I wanted her the fuck off me. I used one hand to steady her, making sure she wasn't gonna fall, and then ripped myself away.

  “Baby? What the fuck!” Her face wrinkled up in confusion and disappointment.

  “I can't do this shit tonight. Find somebody else to suck and ride...”

  “This is fucking insane! She's not even your old lady...not really...god damn it, Brass! You're really going to say no for some bitch who won't even get you laid?”

  Fuck. Even the slut knew it. I almost turned around and marched back over to her, making her say that shit to my face. But I had to go after Missy, who'd bolted toward the bar like a startled cat.

  It was tough going through the club. Too many bodies packed into too small a space. Brothers, bottles, and girls everywhere, standing or else lying on the floor, too fucking easy to stumble on.

  A bottle caught me right as I saw her through two big Sacramento dudes gabbing away. I slipped and fell on my fucking ass. My body spun, the whiskey slowing my reflexes. Hit my head on a chair's leg and slumped.

  Missy! God dammit.

  I tried to call to her, but my lips wouldn't work. The whole world was just spinning, spinning, collapsing in on itself. My vision darkened just as I started to feel the wicked bump by my temple.

  My head rolled and I saw the Prez sitting on the old sofa, two sluts on his lap, his hands pinching their thighs so hard they looked like they were in pain. Fang looked right at me and smiled, showing the broken, oversized canine in his mouth. He'd supposedly used it to bite a few men to death in the old days. Same fucked up snaggle tooth that gave him his road name.

  Shit, why did he look so fucking evil? His eyes were always dark with anger, and stress pulled his face tight. But he never looked like this...he looked like Satan himself, high and pompous on his throne somewhere in hell.

  He lifted a hand. The dim light overhead reflected off the blade in his hand. He pressed it dangerously close to one girl's thigh, sliding higher between her legs, ready to sever a critical vein or shoot up and split her in two if he chose.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck...

  That's when I knew I was losing my mind. I was fucking hallucinating. Had to be!

  Too much Jack and grief on an empty stomach could really twist a man's brain to knots. I blacked out on the floor, right next to two more girls thrashing with pleasure on the ground, drooling the same way I used to when I felt the heroin's coarse purr surging through my veins.

  Somebody was crying.

  I rolled, threw my hands on the ground, and tried to stand up. The liquor in my veins became a half-faded hangover. The weird near silence in the bar told me I must've lost a couple hours – brothers were long gone with their girls, or else in an even deeper coma than I'd been in a second ago.

  I looked at the sofa. The Prez was gone, if he'd ever been there at all with those poor scared bitches.

  “Let me go! I'm just here to work. I'm not a whore!” I turned toward the high, feminine distress.

  “Heh. Could've fooled me with that fucking mouth, begging to be tamed. He hasn't done shit, has he, girl?” The rough voice paused. “Nobody's buying Brass' bullshit, least of all me. I've seen through that asshole from the very beginning. Fang fucked up failing to burn his junkie ass back in Montana, and now he thinks he's gonna get one over on his brothers, claiming your pussy's his when it really isn't? Shut the fuck up, beautiful, and enjoy yourself. You're nobody's old lady, and that means it's open season on your sweet looking ass.”

  “Let. Go.”

  “Not 'til you give it up on top of this bar, baby girl. I'm gonna rip you right open. Show you what a real man wearing these fucking colors can do. You owe me anyway for not pulling the trigger on your little girl...”

  “No! No!”

  My screwed up brain finally got its shit together. I recognized those voices.

  Missy. Serial.

  Fuck!

  I shot up, ignoring the savage vertigo twisting my brain upside down. Couldn't see anything except pure blood red when I saw him backing my girl against the wall, trying to pull her toward the messy bar top, one of his evil hands pinching her thigh.

  I charged him from the side and knocked his ass flat on the ground. Missy screamed. I fell on top of him, hoping like hell I could aim my fists at his face, knock him out before he knew what hit him. I got in two good punches before I felt him moving beneath me, one hand in his pocket.

  Motherfucker pulled his switchblade and hurled it at my guts. I barely swerved again, deaf as another one of Missy's screams ripped through my ears. I caught a blur, just her circling around us, shaking and holding an empty beer bottle like a club.

  Serial tried to stab my ass again. Too fucking slow. Adrenaline howled through me and I caught his wrist with both hands, forcing the bundle to his throat. It was all down to arm wrestling now, and I wanted to push that knife through his jugular so fucking bad.

  “Brothers, no! Get the fuck up! Both you assholes!”

  Two hands caught my shoulders and shook. I kicked like mad as they tried to pull me to my feet, throwing my head down one more time. I slapped Serial's forehead so hard with mine the sickening slap echoed in my skull, followed by the dull pain.

  More hands landed on me. Dark shapes moved all around us, cutting me off from Missy, taking me away from my target.

 
; I wouldn't stop flipping my shit 'til Blackjack and Rabid had me pressed to the wall, holding me down with everything they had.

  “Let me fucking go! That asshole tried to rape my old lady. I'm gonna put his ass in the ground!”

  “You've lost your mind, son!” Blackjack roared in my face. “If you think you're gonna deal justice without running it by your brothers, we'll take you out to meet the Mauler right now. Stop it!”

  Rabid's eyes met mine. Come on, man. I don't wanna fucking hurt you, they said. Calm the fuck down.

  Damn it. I started to relax, but I didn't stop kicking 'til I saw Missy behind all the brothers staggering around us. The men were either laughing or giving me the evil eye.

  She was safe – for now.

  I tried to relax, much as I wanted to break their hold and continue beating the fuckface on the floor. He tried to take her, against her fucking will. He tried to take what's mine.

  “I'll leave his ass alone. Just let me fucking go,” I growled, forcing myself to break eye contact with Serial.

  His lip was bloodied and a couple brothers helped him up. He shot me one more vicious look with those dark, merciless eyes. The urge to rip 'em outta his head and blind his evil ass forever was overwhelming.

  “Jesus.” Blackjack spat contempt in my face. “I can smell the whiskey rolling off you. Drunk as a damned skunk. I'm gonna let this ride, long as I don't find out you hit that other shit.”

  I shook my head. “You know I wouldn't do that. I'd rather die, brother.”

  “Nobody's fucking dying here today,” he snapped. “In another couple seconds, I'm gonna let you go. Rabid's gonna walk you out to the garages with the girl, and you're heading straight home. Got it? Don't show your fucking face around here again until you sober up and know how to handle everybody in this club – including the brothers you don't like.”

  I snorted. Blackjack's fingers tightened on my shoulders and he cocked his head, studying me, a stark warning written in his weathered face.

  “Really, Brass? You know this kinda shit happens in this club all the time. Brothers get drunk. Some of them let their girls stray. And that baby faced brunette back there isn't even yours. Nobody believes this stage show you're putting on. It's gonna be a long time before we ever turn 'em loose. I'll tell you that much. You don't trust this bitch as far as you can throw her – how do you expect us to?”