Charlie's Heart: MC Romance (Burning Bastards MC Book 3)

by Ryder Dane

His hands pulled the sweater up and over her head before she was completely on her feet. His shirt had too many buttons for him to deal with, so he pulled it up and over his head, dropped it on the floor, and began to loosen his belt. He never took his eyes from her body as she disrobed the rest of the way, right down to her skin.

  “You are so beautiful, look at you, every time I see you like this it makes me need to take you as high as possible so you’ll always want to be with me.” His hands molded her breasts and allowed his thumbs to rake their rough texture across her nipples and loved the way her back straightened and thrust her breasts further into his work roughened hands. “It gives me a feeling inside when you show me that you need me as bad as I need you. Look at these little hard berries just waiting for me to suck on them.” He bent his head and licked her nipple before opening his mouth and taking the nipple and areola inside. He didn’t hesitate to suck strongly on the skin and whipped the sensitive nub with his tongue for long minutes while her hands tangled in his hair and held his head in place.

  When he released that breast, his hand took over and his lips sought out its twin to treat to the same pleasures. His lips let her breast loose and traveled up to her neck to lick the spot under her ear. “Now, little girl, its time for me to have my dessert. I want you to lie down right here on the table, I’m gonna’ grab a chair and make a meal of you. It’s been too damned long since I had a taste of you, so don’t expect much mercy, babydoll, I need this.”

  He had her clit in his mouth and was sucking on the small muscle hard. His tongue licked at the little muscle peeking from the hood of skin and his teeth scrapped over that while he sent a finger straight inside of her soaked pussy. Hearing her low scream only egged him on and he added a second finger to the first. Within seconds her hips tightened and she was clenching on his fingers and pushing her clit harder against his mouth and he let her ride that one out. If he hadn’t jacked off twice this morning, he would have been inside her when that happened, and probably disgraced himself by coming with her.

  He pulled his fingers out and began licking her from asshole to clit with long swipes of his tongue. He paused long enough to look at her, and couldn’t help but feel the satisfaction deep in his chest for pleasuring her and putting that look on her face.

  A man would kill to see that look on his woman’s face. He bent his head and continued to keep her juices flowing for his efforts and her pleasure.

  Selma grinned and sat on the tabletop. He was right, it had been too long since she’d enjoyed his brand of loving. The wood was cold on her back and she shivered, but she forget about the cold and hardwood under her when his hands spread her thighs and she felt his breath on her wet pussy. “Oh, Daddy, please, make me feel like you want me as much as I want you. I need this too, you know, and if I can walk when I get off this table, I plan to suck your cock until you haven’t got a drop of cum left in your body. I want yo… Oh, Daddy.”

  She loved every swipe and stab of his tongue. She just came down from her second orgasm and her flesh was so sensitive that when his cock bumped her clit, she lifted her hips and gasped. No one, no one had ever made her feel so beautiful, and no one would ever take the place of the talented man now standing between her thighs.

  “Give it to me, Daddy, let me feel you deep inside, I’ve missed you so much, and your cock will make up for a lot of lonely nights. Oh Yesss…” He took his time working his thick cock inside of her vagina, and she held her breath when his girth stretched the walls almost to the painful limits. This was her Charlie and he gave her everything she needed. “Oh Yes, I can feel every inch, yes, a little more, right there.”

  “Fuck, babydoll, I can barely get in, it’s like the first time we did this, do you remember? So fuckin’ tight.” He pulled back and swiveled side to side to make a place for his cock in her velvety wet body.

  As soon as he was seated, he bent down over her, and sweat dripped from holding back for so long. He settled into alternate short soft jabs, which morphed into the most powerful feeling of belonging that he’d ever felt any place. He wanted to laugh and yell at the same time, but not until he’d given her one more orgasm, she needed it and he damn sure needed her to keep needing him.

  He leaned over her, smashing his cock as deeply as possible and began licking and nibbling at her breasts. He loved feeling her fingers tangled in his hair and pulling down so his attentions didn’t stray from her breasts. He felt her pussy begin to throb and clench on his thickness, and blew out a breath of relief. He doubled the speed of his thrusts and she pushed up to meet his hips. He let go of his hold on the cum shooting from deep in his balls to fill her, as she yelled his name in her pleasure.

  He picked her up from the table still impaled on his softening cock, and walked to the bedroom of the small house. He laid her on the bed and went to fetch a damp face towel to clean her up so she would be able to sleep in comfort. His woman was crying, and he knew it was from the release of the stress she’d been under, but it didn’t set right with him to see tears fall from her beautiful eyes.

  He wiped her face from the tears that continued to fall and she put up a small protest when he rolled her to her back to part her thighs to clean her pretty little pussy and inner thighs, taking the thick combination of their juices from each pass of the damp cloth. He took the cloth back to the bathroom and made sure he was cleaned before re-joining her in the bed. He took her into his arms and they fell asleep with him running his hand down her thigh where she’d gotten her first tattoo over a year ago. The butterfly was too girly to decorate his arms, but looked sexy as shit on the side of her ass. He was tickled to see that she’d continued to have the tat expanded on until it almost covered her entire thigh and hip. He fell asleep on the thought that he would explore the new additions to the picture with his lips tomorrow.

  Chapter Seven

  One month later…

  Selma was again back in her courtroom presiding over the day’s docket, and had just been handed a file to look at. She looked up toward the prosecuting attorney’s table and saw him with his head close to the local sheriff’s, and they were both staring at her as if daring her to say anything. Opening the file, she was surprised to see Pressley’s name, and he was being charged with kidnapping and sexual assault. There was also a charge of resisting arrest and assault on a police officer. The officer in question happened to be the sheriff himself, and the victim just happened to carry the same last name as the sheriff’s.

  As she looked through the paperwork, she noticed there was no victim’s statement, and no witnesses had come forward to substantiate the claims that Sheriff Houser had charged Pressley with. From the looks of him, it also appeared to her that Pressley should have had self-defense training because Houser did not appear to have a scratch on him.

  “All right, Attorney Buel, I would like to know what we have here, I see a police report, sworn out by the father of the alleged victim, yet I see nothing more. How am I expected to rule on this without some sort of solid evidence.”

  The attorney stepped forward as if to approach the bench without her expressed permission until he caught the look she was giving him, and stopped in his tracks.

  “Your Honor, may I approach the bench?” His words were spoken in a sneering manner and that pissed her off even more. She had to keep her composure, but it was hard for her not to charge him with contempt of court right on the spot. The man had been a pain in the ass since the day she took the bench as a judge, and he was still bitter by the defeat she’d handed him. His attitude was what had sank him in the voters’ eyes, and she had just about had enough of his shit.

  When he stopped mere inches from the bench, she leaned forward to tell him a few home truths. “I want to know what this arrest is based on, not just a pissed off father’s concerns for his twenty-three-year-old wayward daughter, and I want to know why the prisoner is not in this courtroom while the charges are being levied against him. More importantly, I want to know what makes you believe you can co
me into this courtroom and speak in such a scathing tone to an elected judge. This is the last time you will speak to me in that manner or I will have you in front of a review panel.”

  He was turning red, and she knew he wanted to blast her with words, but he was not going to get the chance to do so.

  “Now please answer the question, where is the prisoner, and why isn’t he in the courtroom?”

  “He is in the hospital, your Honor, there is a guard on him, but since he hasn’t woken from the time the ambulance brought him in for care, we could not very well bring him in to face the charges.”

  She had to swallow the bile in her throat. Charlie loved that boy as if he was his own child, and he was not going to take this news easily.

  “Okay, so the prisoner is in a coma, and where is the kidnap victim? I assume you at least have her stashed back at home in a safe place? Since there is no mention of her in this report, and the alleged suspect is in custody, I would like a detailed statement, one you know must be submitted to prove there was actually a crime committed. Do you have something for me to look at?”

  He was shaking his head. “No, your Honor, the victim is still missing, Sheriff Houser has said in his statement the suspect came to the house to collect a ransom that he’d demanded and that is where he attempted to resist arrest and the assault on the sheriff occurred.”

  The idea that Pressley would do something like this was ridiculous, she had met him several times and unless she saw solid proof of his alleged wrong doing, she would not believe it. “So the ransom note must be available for the court to peruse.”

  He was shaking his head yet again. “Sheriff Houser swears the demand for ten thousand dollars was via his cell phone, and that his phone was trampled in the scuffle with the suspect.”

  He still wore that look that she hated while he stared at her. He was up to something no good and she knew exactly what that no good was. The sheriff was still standing by the prosecutor’s table looking smug.

  She waved Buel back to his place and spent time re-reading the documents sitting in front of her. Finally she made up her mind, it didn’t set well with her to let this go, but she would leave that for an old friend of hers to decide.

  “In light of the lack of prosecution’s evidence, and the nature and familial status of the alleged victim and the alleged assault, I am sending this case to the State’s Attorney General to decide whether or not to prosecute Elvis Collier. In the mean time, I also will recluse myself from this case to ensure justice is carried out in a manner that cannot be questioned due to my involvement on a personal level.”

  She smiled at Attorney Buel and Sheriff Houser. “Gentlemen, I suggest you get your facts in order and have your evidence ready to present to Dean Plyer, he does not suffer sloppy work, and you had better have a good reason for Mr. Collier to be in a coma, especially given the fact Sheriff Houser has no visible injuries or pain.”

  She smiled at the men who had attempted to lock her into a conflict of interest problem, and poor Pressley into prison without any chance to tell his side of the charges. They were whispering furiously to each other and she poked the bear one last time to make them aware she was on solid legal grounds here.

  “I trust there is no objection to my decision, and I trust that Mr. Collier is receiving all necessary medical care to improve his health. Sheriff, I am certain you realize that without further proof, and the man dies, you will be facing manslaughter charges at the very least.”

  She rapped her gavel on the wooden square and the next matter was brought before the bench. Thankfully it was a straightforward breaking and entering case where the police had been waiting for the suspect to exit the pharmacy where they had broken into to steal drugs. Her concentration was shot to hell and back, and all she could seem to focus on was Charlie and what he would say about the charges leveled at his young friend.

  Finally the last case came and went and she could go to her chambers and call him to find out what he knew about the subject. There was a voicemail from him that simply said, “I love you, babydoll, don’t wait up, I’ll be back in a week. I gotta do something for Pressley. Call Big Dog if you need anything. I’ll be back, so keep the bed warm for me.”

  She texted his phone and knowing that he wouldn’t look at it until he stopped for the night, or got to his destination, she said:

  Will do, I love you too. Do what you can for him, I did all I could legally. Watch out for Sheriff Houser & Attorney Buel trouble brewing. Call me Daddy I miss you. Xoxoxoxoxo.

  The x’s and o’s were an old fashioned way of sending kisses and hugs, but he would understand.

  She went home and couldn’t sit still for five minutes. She wanted to visit Pressley in the hospital, but knew her every move would be questioned and scrutinized. Knowing the young man was lying in the hospital without anyone who cared close to his bedside bothered her to no end, and she picked up the phone to call the club. Hopefully Big Dog would be there.

  After vetting Tiny, the bartender and clubhouse caretaker, informed her that Big Dog was at school for parent/teacher conferences. Steven was in the second grade this year and Selma remembered the child well. He was actually the son of Big Dog’s sister. When she died, the big man adopted the little boy as his own, and from all accounts the kid was flourishing under the care he received from his father and stepmother, Future.

  Charlie had told her when they were eating dinner one night that Future was now pregnant and Big Dog was a nervous wreck. She smiled remembering the way he’d laughed about the tough guy being whipped and loving it.

  He said something that stuck in her head and never left. “I was never fortunate enough to have kids of my own, I always wanted one or two little rugrats hanging around, but I never found a woman I’d want to be the mother of any kid of mine. Too bad we didn’t meet twenty years ago.” He’d leaned over and kissed her with longing and she’d wished they had met earlier too. He would be a wonderful father.

  From all physical indications, she was going into menopause, but mother nature was dragging her feet on that. She never had children either, but that didn’t mean she never wanted them. There had been a time when she actually had made an appointment with a fertility clinic to look into invitro with a donor’s sperm. She’d chickened out at the last minute and canceled that appointment.

  Maybe Future would allow her and Charlie to be honorary grandparents to the new baby. Not having a child was the one thing she regretted in her life, but a baby to love would help keep those regrets at bay. Even a borrowed one might help fill the void.

  She shook her head at the brief fantasy that flashed through her mind. At forty–eight years old, she was too old to get pregnant and Charlie might have a few things to say about spending their retirement years raising a child. She wrote a note for herself to remember to ask Future if they knew the sex of the baby yet. Grandmothers were allowed to buy baby things, and she loved shopping for gifts. The thought made her smile and she opened her computer to see what there was in the line of baby needs nowadays.

  By the time she looked at the clock it was already eight o’clock. So she stretched her arms above her head and moved the muscles around in a more comfortable position before reaching for her Rolodex and the landline that she kept for making private calls. She punched the numbers into the dial pad and waited for the line to be connected.

  One of the perks of being a long term attorney and then a judge was having made contacts over the years, and she was taking advantage of her ability to call in favors now. The phone was answered on the fourth ring.

  “This is Dean Plyer, what can I do for you, Selma?” The idea that he had her number startled her for a moment, but she remembered that they had gotten along well before, and the State’s Attorney General would have Caller ID.

  “Well hello to you too. I am calling about a case that came across my bench today, if you have time I’d like to discuss it with you?” She proceeded to tell him everything she knew and was gratified to hear his
disgust at the shoddy way the sheriff and Buel had conducted themselves. “Also, you should know that I have recused myself from the case, the man I am with is good friends with the suspect, and it would be a conflict of interest if I tried to force the issue of the young man’s treatment at the sheriff’s hands. I know there is more to this than they are telling me, but again, if I get involved, the case will be a circus.”

  By the time she’d hung up the phone and hooked up her fax line, there was an order releasing Pressley from custody. Now all she had to do was talk to Big Dog and hopefully Charlie would call so she could give him the news.

  He’d been so enraged when he saw Pressley lying in that hospital bed with his face a mangled mess, and the tubes sticking out of the kid’s nose and mouth, that it was a good thing Show had been with him at the time to pull him back away from the room and the cop with a gun.

  The Bastards knew what this was about, but no one thought for a minute that the sheriff would try to pull something so underhanded, or Pressley wouldn’t have been sent to the fucker’s place by himself. Now the kid was as close to dying as he could be without actually kicking heels up and dropping into a hole. Charlie was too pissed and concerned about the boy to wait to talk to Big Dog, and he and Show were on their way to Washington State. The proof exonerating Pressley was there, and if they didn’t co-operate willingly, they damn sure would unwillingly. They should have dealt with that fucker, Houser, a couple of years ago when he came to them to find his runaway wife and daughter.

  Chapter Eight

  Houser had pulled Big Dog over to make his deal. The chicken shit fucker didn’t have the balls to approach the Burning Bastards directly, no he had to make a production to cover his possibly being seen talking to one of the bikers.