“Shut up and fuck me, Zane.” I hiss, pulling the zipper to his pants down. He’s quick to kick his jeans off. Meanwhile, my hands have already gone under his cut and he tosses it on the desk in the room. I peel his shirt off and see the most defined abs I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. His skin is a deep caramel, reminding me of filling inside of a Milky Way bar.
Zane’s hands pull up my shirt and I pull down my shorts, only standing in a pair of navy-blue lace panties with a matching push up bra. He slowly drags his tongue across his top lip and chuckles sinfully. “Cinnamon, you didn’t tell me you were one of them.”
“Them?” I question, pulling my hands behind my back, I unhook my bra and drop it on the floor in front of me. My nipples harden at the instant difference in temperature. This cabin has to be in the low seventies from the air conditioning unit.
“Mhm, one of them chicks who buys the nice lingerie. The type you tear off with your teeth.”
Zane skims his hand over my nipple, teasing and toying with it. He pinches and I jolt, biting the inside of my mouth ‘cause fuck I feel wetness pooling between my legs. He doesn’t realize how badly I need this. How much I’m craving feeling something, anything except the sadness, the betrayal, the hurt.
“Are you going to fuck me, or what?” I snap.
He takes off his fitted boxers and I see his cock. The intense veins surrounding it and the piercings. Not piercing. Piercings, as in multiple. He has one underneath the head of his cock, another that goes through his urethra, and one on his balls. I had no idea this man liked pain. Fuck. We may have a couple things in common. I’m not as innocent as I look.
Zane hooks his thumbs under my panties and I assumed he was going to take them off, but that isn’t what happens. He turns me away from him, pushes me down and impales his cock inside me at the same time. I’m being pushed so far down I can touch my toes, and with every thrust I can feel heat boiling over at my core. With every movement he’s grinding his cock against my g-spot.
“God dammit,” I cry out, palming at the floor below us, but I have nothing to grip onto, so my nails scrape against the wood.
A stinging sensation shoots against my right cheek, and then my left. “Shit, you get worked up quick.” Another slap on both cheeks. “Keep getting’ worked up, Cinnamon.”
He pulls his cock out until I feel the head at my entrance. But, his fingers strum against my clit like it’s a guitar. Slowly, he shoves himself back in, the metal of his rings causing me to jolt. My body slowly shivers and then stops when he halts. “Zane,” I grumble, showing my obvious displeasure.
“I’m gonna milk this pussy of yours and unleash my load in your perfect little cunt as much as I want. I’ll fuck you like a savage, and I’ll fuck you slow. I’ll fuck you from your head and down to your toes. But Cinnamon, you’re gonna cum harder than you ever have with what’s-his-name, ‘cause I know how to pleasure a woman.” Zane pulls the hand up from my clit and grabs the back of my hair, yanking me against him while he rams his cock in and out of me, fucking me so hard the sound of our skin slapping together is filling the room.
Heat. Warmth. Rushing.
It all overwhelms me until I’m screaming with my release, being held by someone who might not even give a damn about me. But, at least it gives me the illusion of being cared about.
I thought fucking him would make me feel better, and while it did for a second, my heart only burns more for the one I left behind. The one I wish I could forget about. Zane isn’t Inc and he never will be. Even in knowing that, I need to do the best I can to make this work . . . because I don’t want to run my entire life.
Chapter Thirteen
Sometimes the healing is in the aching
~ Unknown
Zane
If someone would’ve told me I’d be right here, right now . . . I would’ve called them insane. Funny how the world works. I’m layin’ beside Octavia. She’s wrapped in some matte black Egyptian cotton or silk type of sheets. I watch as her chest rises and falls, the most peaceful I’ve seen her since we met.
In a way, I’m kinda in denial about what transpired tonight between the two of us. I don’t know what changed in her head, why she started lookin’ at me different or any of that. My head is tellin’ me she hasn’t looked at me different, but she’s using different shit to dull her pain. She tries to cope with alcohol, but I’m wonderin’ if sex is an issue too . . . or if it was purely to help her get over that guy she left back home.
I rise from the bed and walk over to the window where my pants and boxers lay in a pile. While I get dressed I ponder everythin’ I know about her, which isn’t much. If I really think about it, the only thing she hasn’t told me that I know is how all of her siblings are kids from clubwhores. Her dad really got around back in the day. Otherwise, she’s a mystery to me.
We very well might be strangers, but I don’t have a doubt about it that we can relate. When you think about it, we were both lied to, deceived, tricked, betrayed or whatever word you’d prefer to use. I have to admit, I’m thankful she’s not viewing me as the enemy anymore. I was preparin’ myself for that, though. I even bought chloroform to knock her ass out if she got on my fuckin’ nerves.
Picking my shirt up off the floor, I slide it back over my head and put my arms through. Dad lied to me, but he must’ve had a good reason. Right? He had to have some reasoning on why he didn’t tell me Cracker was my biological father.
A rustling sound comes back from the bed and I spot Octavia sitting up, holding the sheets against her chest. “God, what time is it?”
I shrug, pointing out the window to the horizon. “Looks to be a bit before sunrise,”
“Wow. It’s beautiful here,” Octavia says in the moment. One of the qualities I already adore about her is how she finds the beauty in every situation.
I debate whether or not I should ask her this, but fuck it. “You know fuckin’ me won’t make your memory of him go away, yeah?”
She gapes her mouth open, before shutting it abruptly and nods. “I know that. Can’t deny things wouldn’t be easier if it did.”
“Nah, ya can’t.” I reply.
Octavia gets off the bed, picks up the remnants of her clothes from the floor and gets dressed as well. I slide my cut on and check my phone, seein’ more missed calls and texts than I want to admit.
From: Grim
Yo. Where the fuck are you? Kade’s losin’ his shit. Said somethin’ about shit hittin’ the fan between you two. Text me back. Wanna make sure you’re good.
From: Kade
You took off without sayin’ a word? I know that was a mindfuck, but you don’t do shit like that man.
From: Ashley
Zane. Where are you? I’ve been trying to call. I called Kade and he said you’re in Las Vegas, which you didn’t even tell me but we’ll get into that later. He did tell me you two got in a fight and . . . he said you were probably gonna tell me something when you get back. I’m freaking out. Are you okay? Is he okay? Is Ivy okay? Are the twins okay? Jesus, call me for fuck’s sake. I’m losing my shit, Zane. I love you. Just tell me everything is okay.
Christ almighty. I’ll deal with Grim and Kade in a bit, but I need to text Ashley back before she goes into labor. She’s about to pop at any given moment.
To: Ashley
Hey, I’m alright. Just gettin’ to know Octavia . . . if you know what I mean, lol. Kade and I got in a tiff, but things will be fine Ash, they always clear up. I just need some time. Promise I’ll tell you everything soon. Love you.
Ashley is married to my interim VP, Blackjack. He has a kid from a previous relationship who’s almost ready to head off to college. I think Dex is in his senior year of high school now. Ash and Blackjack have a young daughter named Noelle, and she’s gonna have a baby boy any day now. Feels like she’s been pregnant for a damn century, though. Pretty sure she’s a few days past her due date which makes me anxious. Ash has had two or three miscarriages, so if the baby is still co
okin’ it freaks me out.
The way she’d been after she lost the babies . . . it wrecked me, ‘cause there’s nothin’ I could do as her brother to make her feel better. The only thing you ever wanna do is protect your family, and when you can’t do that it’s the worst feelin’ in the world.
“I don’t expect to be able to erase everything I had with him you know,” Octavia starts to say, so I turn away from the window and look at her. She stares right at me and while she might appear okay to most people, the way her eyes are glossed over tells me how much she’s still hurtin’. And damn, how I hate to see women hurt. “I don’t expect everything to just be okay, to not miss him, or miss the way things were back home. This is a huge change, but it’s one I’ve accepted. It’s one I can’t deny and I’ll do my best to make the best of this situation. I’ll be honest Zane, when I first was told about all this, I thought you had a choice in the matter as well. It took me a while to realize you’re as trapped as I am. Our fathers made this agreement amongst themselves for the better part of our clubs, and if you didn’t want to honor it, you didn’t have to. So, I kind of wonder why you did. You have the club down here now . . . so you’re expanding. Why do you need the Raiders?”
I should’ve known she was a smart woman. I might not need the Raiders, not really anyway. I know why my dad made the agreement with Ice, because he didn’t have certain allies that we do now back in the day. Honestly, he could’ve thrown it out. But he didn’t. That’s not to say I couldn’t nix it . . . but anyone who knows me knows I’m a family man. I could be honoring the agreement Dad made, or I might be doin’ this shit ‘cause I know they were bein’ targeted for a reason and the thought of a woman ending up hurt or dead because of me not acting, or acting in a certain way. Mmm, nope. I can’t live with that.
Again, I find myself in a position where I debate lyin’ to her. I could say what is partially true, that being how her father has connections with the man who owns the docks. How we could use it to ship drugs. Dad never got out of that business and we do still manage it up in Montana. Though, I’m not fond of it, I’m also not willing to let the club run into the ground because we don’t have enough money to take care of everyone.
Yet, I know it wouldn’t really be the truth. I’d be lyin’. “I didn’t have to do this. That’s the God’s honest truth. I could’ve burned that fuckin’ contract and told your brother to go fuck himself.”
Octavia’s eyes widen. “Why didn’t you do that then . . . I mean . . . this doesn’t make sense to me.”
Glancing down at the floor for a moment before I look back to hers and I finally speak, “Is it hard to believe I’m not as bad as they say? That I have a heart in here, and knowin’ women were bein’ targeted pissed me off. Maybe I have a death wish, maybe I’m insane . . . honest answer is I dunno. It surely would’ve been easier to not give a flyin’ fuck about an innocent woman, but I kinda got pissed about what was happenin’ to all your sisters. It’s not like your dad or brother were doin’ a good job protectin’ ya ladies.” I shrug, actin’ like this isn’t a big deal.
What I’m not tellin’ her is how I feel like I’m close to bein’ done with fuckin’ around. Every day I’m gettin’ older, and much like Dixon, Kade and the others, I do want to settle down.
There’s only one thing I haven’t had the courage to tell her just yet. I don’t want an ordinary relationship. I desire an extraordinary one, and she deserves just that. I’ve never been the type who’s happy with one partner. Fuck, look at my aunt Roxy. She has three men.
I fuckin’ love women, but fuck, I love men too . . . and even if I have to keep the latter part a secret from my club, I will. I just want a . . . throuple, if that’s even a word. I want two. I now have a woman, one I’ll be bound to by the state of Montana soon. The only thing I’m missin’ is a man.
Just wonderin’ if she’ll let me have what I want.
“Wow, I didn’t—”
“We should get goin’ back to the club.” I interrupt her, ready to get a move on it. I have some shit to talk out with Kade when I get back, and we have a fuckin’ flight to catch.
Chapter Fourteen
“Life itself is a privilege, but to live life to the fullest — well, that is a choice.”
~ Andy Andrews
Octavia
He shut down on me. It was apparent with the way he cut me off and practically bolted out the door. I’m not sure why, though I do hope I’ll figure that out. Immediately I thought of Inc, and if the fact I was previously in a long-term relationship is scaring the shit out of him.
It shouldn’t because at the end of the day Inc and I won’t ever be anything. At least not anymore. I can have my hopes and dreams about the things Zane has implied without flat out saying it. But I know Inc, and he would never go for it. To my knowledge, Inc isn’t bisexual . . . and Zane wants someone who is. Erm. No, he needs someone who is. Shit, what the hell am I even doing? Zane hasn’t flat out said to me that he wants a man too. I’m overthinking, or maybe I’m simply dreaming about having Inc back in some manner and this was the only feasible option to having him back in my life.
Regardless, that door has closed and now my only option is to move on and look forward. No more glancing back at what once was for me.
I drove back to the club and Zane went back into his brother and sister-in-law’s house. He asked me to wait outside, so I am, leaning up against their trailer. I see a small sedan pull down the driveway. They’re going so fast the brakes screech as they come to a stop.
Four women exit the vehicle. One immediately catches my eye with a short pink bob, while the one who exited the car across from her is tan and has jet black, long wavy hair. An Asian looking woman came out of the back next to a tall, skinny blonde.
I don’t think they’re clubwhores . . . because they look a lot nicer. What I mean by that is they dress nicer, more upper class and less skank. “You’re a new face we haven’t seen before,” The tall blonde one says. Her accent is thick, but I can’t place it.
“I’m here with Zane,” I explain, knowing if they’re clubwhores they’ll either try to get in his pants or immediately back off.
“Uh, who?” The black-haired one asks.
They’ve got to be joking, right? “The National Charter Prez for the Reapers. You know, the head honcho. Who are you ladies?” I cross my arms while I’m leaning against the trailer.
The Asian one comes up and extends her hand, “Hi, I’m Yami. This is Tatiana,” She points to the blonde one, “This is Esme,” Now she’s pointing to the one with black hair, “and lastly this is Mirage.” She says, leaving only the pink haired woman.
“How about you tell us who the fuck you are,” Mirage barks, cocking a brow like a sassy little shit.
I blink a couple of times, trying to figure out what I want to do. I haven’t gotten in a fight with a sweet butt, club bunny, clubwhore, or whatever the hell you wanna call them in eons. It’s about time I crack the skin on my knuckles.
“I’m Octavia, Zane’s girl. I’ll be real with you though, baby girl. No one talks to me like that and gets away with it. I don’t tolerate being disrespected. Now what exactly is your role here?” Being Zane’s woman so to speak will automatically give me seniority over these bitches. The three of them seem nice, but this Mirage character has some serious attitude problems. If I have to lay into her to set an example, I won’t have any problem doing so. Back home I knocked out teeth for even looking at me the wrong way.
Then again, the clubwhores who got my wrath belonged to my father. Dusty, Midnight and Lexi. The rudest, most naïve bitches if I’ve ever met any. All of them told me the same shit, how my father was going to make her his ol’ lady. The three of them were friends, and yet they each thought they were gonna be an ol’ lady. I’m not a mathematician or anything, but it didn’t add up. Though, I should be grateful. Dusty ran off a couple years back. Actually, make it more like six or seven. It’s been a bit. She did get a replacement. I never paid enoug
h attention to catch the new third wheel’s name.
Soles hitting the ground below us cause me to shift my gaze to one of the only actual homes here. A woman with dark hair is approaching. Since the sun still hasn’t fully come up I can’t tell if it’s chocolate brown or black as a raven’s feathers. “These girls work in the brothel. I’m sure they’re getting off work and that’s why they’re up so early. Right, ladies?” Whoever this new chick is, I like her.
“Don’t slut shame us, Cheyenne.” Mirage grumbles.
“I wasn’t slut shaming anyone.” Cheyenne states, looking to the group of women.
Yami clears her throat, “It kinda sounded like you were. I’m sorry, but it did.”
“Ladies, you’re reading into too much shit again. She asked what your role was, and none of you told her, so, I did.” Cheyenne shrugs, pulling a cigarette up she takes a puff.
“Oh no. Sorry!” Yami says, pouting.
“You should get going and go see Damon, right?” Cheyenne suggests, and Tatiana grabs one of Mirage’s hands. Meanwhile, Yami and Esme strut off behind them.
“Are they normally like that?” I don’t have to know the answer. I’m only curious.
“No, not typically. They’re just a bit cautious of new people. If you put them all together, they’ve had one hell of a life. I’m Cheyenne,” Cheyenne extends her hand and I shake it.
“Octavia,” I reply.
She laughs lowly, “I know. I heard you before.”
“Oh yeah, sorry. You one of the ol’ ladies’ here?”
Cheyenne busts out into laughter. “Hell no. I’m just a . . . I’m a Nurse Practitioner.” A lot of MCs usually have someone trained in the medical field at their club. We have one back home too.
Zane (Reapers MC Book 11) Page 7