Blood & Bones: Trip (Blood Fury MC Book 1)

by Jeanne St. James

Why did she want him? Why? She didn’t need more complications in her life. She certainly didn’t need them in a man like him.

  She had vowed she was done with men like Trip.

  And here she was, about to roll over and let him into her life.

  “Baby, turn over.” He rose enough to give her the room to do so.

  And because he was straddling that area, she hoped he wouldn’t see what she wanted to hide.

  The reminder of what she’d lost.

  As soon as she rolled over, she curled up and grabbed his face with both hands, falling back to the mattress and pulling him with her.

  She took his mouth, while her fingers gripped the wiry hairs of his beard. She swallowed his groan, spread her legs and bent her knees.

  He tried to break away, but she held him there. His next groan turned into a growl as he reached between them, lined up his cock and pressed the crown just barely between her folds.

  Pushing her hips up, she tried to force him deeper, but he held back, not letting her impale herself.

  And that’s what she needed, him to fill her up, to take her completely.

  He jerked his beard free of her fingers, which had to hurt. Just as she suspected, he was not going to let her take control. She doubted Trip would ever allow that. And if he did, it would be on his terms, not hers.

  With both of his palms planted in the mattress right above her shoulders, he stared down at her, his brown eyes dark.

  She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just continued to stare at her, as if almost being able to see her soul.

  Which scared her. Her eyes slid to the side to avoid his. “Trip,” she whispered.

  “Baby, look at me.”

  You’re everything I don’t want, what I don’t need whispered through her head.

  “Look at me.” The words were still said softly but much more demanding.

  “I can’t,” she breathed.

  “You want me?” he asked.

  She should say no, but she couldn’t. She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Then look at me.”

  She gave herself a second to breathe before opening her eyes and meeting his. And the moment she did, he slid all the way inside her until he was completely buried.

  He remained deep. His chest pumping but his hips still.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Takin’ a moment to appreciate you, baby. Don’t look away... Eyes on me. Look, I like it rough, too, but now’s not the time for that. If you’re expectin’ me to just pound it out to get it over with, give you what you want and then get out? Ain’t gonna happen. Not today. Wanna take my time, show you—”

  “Stop.”

  His head lifted, his nostrils flared, and his lips flattened as he began to withdraw from her.

  Her hands gripped his ass, stopping him. “No, not that. What you’re saying. Please, let’s just fuck. That’s it. Nothing more.”

  “With me, you get more.”

  She swallowed back a scream of I don’t want more! “We’ll talk after.”

  “After, you’ll want me gone.”

  He was right. Afterward she’d want him gone. She’d want her space. “I can’t be who you want me to be.”

  “Bullshit.” He thrust inside her again. “Fuck first, talk later.”

  “Thank you.” He seemed annoyed that she thanked him, so she left one hand gripping his ass and curled the other around the back of his head and pulled him down. “Kiss me again. You’re good at it.”

  His smile was smothered by their kiss.

  She moaned as he began to move. This wasn’t a pounding like the other night. This was way more than that. She swore the flex of his hips took her to heights she never went before.

  She dug her heels into the back of his thighs, matching his movements. Her fingers slid from the back of his head down his spine, her nails scraping along his heated skin as he powered deep.

  Kissing wasn’t the only thing he was good at.

  Damn.

  It wasn’t long before their kissing was interrupted by her throwing her head back and crying out his name as she came. But as soon as the orgasm faded away, he captured her mouth and began all over again. Thrusting deep, but steady, stealing her breath with his kiss.

  This wasn’t just fucking, it was more.

  She could not fall for him. If she did, she might end up back where she was, on a path to the darkness. Unexpected and devastating.

  And she swore she’d never take that path again.

  She was hot and wet and... Fuck, her orgasm had been intense. So much so, that he had to fight not to come when she did.

  But he wanted to hold off. Make it last as long as he could. He needed to show her he didn’t just want sex from her, and she shouldn’t just want sex from him.

  They could be a powerful team.

  He wanted to be there to help her through whatever was bogging her down and she could do the same for him when he needed it.

  Because there was no fucking doubt he would need it. Resurrecting the Fury along with everything else was starting to wear on him. The pressure was beginning to overwhelm him. Not only because of that endless to-do list but because of all the financial shit.

  He had never been good with money, but now he was forced to be. If he had known the bar was such a shit show before he bought the motel, he wouldn’t have bought it. He would’ve dumped the money he got from selling the warehouse right into Crazy Pete’s.

  So now he was wrestling with getting the wrecker rolling for the repo business so he could start bringing in some cash there, taking that cash and reinvesting it into not only the bar but also the motel.

  Plus, trying to finish getting the barn and bunkhouse not only set up but filled with bodies. Bodies who could also bring in scratch. Bodies who could take some of the brunt of the heavy lifting.

  He’d been trying to do too much by himself.

  And though, it was coming together, it was a slow go.

  But at the end of the night when he was fucking exhausted, he wanted to fall into bed with Stella.

  When his temper was at his breaking point, he needed to sink into her wet heat.

  When he was wondering how the fuck he would get out of bed the next morning, he wanted to turn his head and see her sleeping next to him.

  Safe and secure.

  Not hungry, not wanting for anything.

  He’d fallen fast for his ex-wife, which had been his biggest mistake, besides him doing something stupid to land in prison.

  Because of that, he knew better to fall fast for Stella. But, fuck him, if he wasn’t doing just that.

  At the time, he’d gotten married young, but he wasn’t so young anymore. He hoped now that he’d lived a life full of experience, between the Marines and prison, he’d become a much better judge of character. That he could see through someone faster now than he could at eighteen, twenty or even twenty-five.

  He only hoped he was right. Because he was not dealing with the shit he was forced to with his ex-wife again.

  Never fucking again.

  And this was why he was determined to claim Stella. To make sure she was his. Because like he told her, the fuck if he was going to share his woman. And he would not land behind bars again for one, either.

  But, fuck him, he was building a new life, a better one, and he wanted someone besides his club brothers to share that with.

  And for some reason, the minute he saw Stella, the very second he realized who she was, he knew it was her.

  Maybe stupid, but definitely fucking true.

  He could be making another big fucking mistake, but it didn’t feel like that in his gut.

  But for now, he needed to get out of his head, concentrate on the woman beneath him and prove to them both that this was right.

  Her nails were digging into his back as she clung tightly to him, her mouth near his ear, panting, moaning, whimpering as he drove into her over and over. That sound was better than any song that had hit
number one on the charts.

  Hearing his name on her lips as her hips rose to meet his, cemented everything he thought.

  He dropped his head and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue. Then he did the same with the other.

  With his wandering thoughts now collected, he realized she needed to come again soon, or she wouldn’t get that chance until next time.

  Next time.

  And the next.

  And the next.

  He had come home to Manning Grove, but he had found home inside of her.

  He had felt driven to come back to a place with bad memories. And maybe it was to right all the wrongs.

  Including the one with her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Trip stared at the brown water stain above him. That stain meant there was a current leak in the roof, or one in the past that had been fixed. He hoped it was the latter. He really didn’t want to add a new fucking roof, or even a roof repair, to his already long list.

  His chest tightened with the thought of one more thing he might have to come up with money for.

  He wanted to keep Stella from drowning, but he might have to do some serious treading water himself to keep from all of it dragging him down, too.

  In the end, whatever it was would get done. As soon as he could swing it.

  Even though their skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and their breathing a bit ragged from the last orgasm he pulled from her, as well as his own, he was pissed at himself for not tucking a second wrap in his wallet. Because the fuck if he wasn’t staying the night this time.

  He’d prefer they head back to the farm and sleep in his awesome bed, unlike her lumpy piece of shit, but he doubted Stella would go. Or she might agree to it and, once he was out of her apartment, slam the door behind him. He was not risking that. Not tonight.

  But he also wanted to fuck her again. Maybe even twice more, but that wasn’t going to happen without a wrap.

  He wanted to ask her if she had any, but he wasn’t sure how he’d react to the answer if she said yes. If she had some that could mean she had fucked someone since she came back to town, was fucking someone, or planned to fuck someone. Someone who was not him.

  And that thought made his blood begin to rush again, almost as much as when he was fucking her. He knew his limits when it came to his temper and one hard limit was his woman fucking someone else. Or her even thinking about it.

  So, until he convinced her to move in with him, he needed to tuck more than one wrap in his wallet or even his cut.

  She rolled up and out of bed. Keeping her back to him, she snagged his T-shirt from the floor and tugged it over her head as she headed to the door near the kitchen, which he assumed was the bathroom. She disappeared inside and shut the door.

  He scrambled to the edge of the bed and jerked her nightstand drawer open, quickly searching it for wraps. None. Not even one.

  In one way he was relieved, in the other, he wasn’t happy they wouldn’t get a chance to fuck again. But his fingers did find something deep in the back of the drawer. He pulled it out and held it up.

  A bright pink vibrator. It wasn’t the typical vibrator he’d seen; this one had a slight curve and three buttons. He smiled. While he might not be able to fuck her, there were other options for later.

  He tucked it back in the drawer and slammed it shut as he heard the bathroom door opening. He jackknifed from the bed and headed in that direction on his way to break the seal.

  “Shirt off when you get back in bed,” he said in passing.

  He figured her non-response was a silent “fuck you” to his demand.

  After doing his thing in the bathroom, he opened the door and was surprised to find she had shucked his shirt, placing it neatly over the chair where his cut was. Problem was, she had climbed back into bed and pulled a sheet over her, covering herself anyway.

  In truth, he thought she’d get dressed and when he came out, she’d be pointing toward the door and ordering him to get the fuck out.

  While the sheet wasn’t ideal, it was better than her kicking him out.

  Not that he would’ve left. Because they still had shit to talk about before he ate her pussy.

  She watched him approach the bed, her expression turning suspicious due to his grin he didn’t bother to hide. He felt her light blue eyes on him as he pulled the handmade quilt off, so it wouldn’t get ruined later, and lifted the sheet, sliding in. Once he was under it, he rolled into her side and slowly began to tug the sheet down. “If I wanted you covered up, woulda been fine with you wearin’ my shirt.”

  Her fingers wouldn’t release it, causing them to play tug of war. “I can’t sleep without a sheet.”

  “We’re not sleepin’ anytime soon. It’s early, plenty of time before we need to catch some ZZZ’s.”

  “We?”

  “Pretty sure that’s what I said.”

  “You’re planning on taking a nap here?”

  “Stayin’ the night. Plan on makin’ you breakfast in the mornin’ to make sure you eat.”

  Her lips thinned. “I don’t need you to fatten me up like a lamb going to slaughter.”

  “Yeah, baby, you do. The fatten part, not the slaughter. Though, I did kill it when I fucked you.”

  “Damn. Ego much?”

  “I didn’t kill it? Did I suck?”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

  He tugged on the sheet again and she gripped it tighter. “We were just fuckin’ naked a few minutes ago. What are you hidin’?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Told you I don’t like liars.”

  Her white knuckled fingers twitched but she still didn’t let go. He flopped onto his back, tucking one bent arm behind his head, and sighed. “Fine. Takin’ a nap, then we’re goin’ at it again.”

  “Do you have another condom?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then we won’t be going at it again.”

  “Plenty of other things we can do without me gettin’ you knocked up.”

  He twisted his head to stare at her when the bed shook, and she went as stiff as a board next to him. The color in her face from their recent activity had disappeared and her eyes were squeezed shut.

  He studied the long black hair with the blue stripes in it, which spilled over her pillow, the nose ring, the full sleeve of tattoos. Things she had changed about herself since he last saw her when they were kids.

  He wondered what other changes had happened to make her want to hide herself and cause that kind of reaction to what he said.

  He rolled onto his side again and propped his head in his hand, facing her. “Baby, said we’d talk after. There’s shit I need to tell you and I’m sure there’s shit you need to tell me.”

  Her eyes opened but she didn’t look at him, she focused on the ceiling instead. Avoiding him. Avoiding whatever it was.

  “Why?”

  “’Cause I want everything out in the fuckin’ open, that’s why. Gonna be partners, gonna need to trust each other.”

  “Partners in the bar.”

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “Yeah. In the bar, Stel.” For fuck’s sake. Not just in the goddamn bar...

  “What do you need to tell me?”

  “Are you interested, or you askin’ just to get it over with?”

  “Does it matter? I’m sure I’m going to hear it no matter what.”

  “Whatever, Stella.” He flopped to his back again, scraping a hand through his hair. “Jesus fuck.”

  He was surprised when she rolled into him this time. Her breasts pressed into his ribs and she planted her hand on his chest. “All the original members of the Fury kept their shit close to the vest. Why do you feel the need to tell me... whatever it is you’re going to tell me?”

  “’Cause I need you to understand where I’m comin’ from.”

  “You mean why you’re pursuing me so hard even though I’m not interested?”

  He lif
ted his head. She wasn’t interested. That’s what she just said. “Wet spot on the bed says otherwise.”

  When she flipped onto her back, he followed, taking the opportunity to tear the sheet off her before she could stop him. “Ready to make another one?”

  “Trip!”

  He ignored her “outrage” and sucked a nipple none-too-gently into his mouth. He twisted the other one with his fingers, causing her back to arch.

  “Think that’s a yes,” he murmured against the curve of her tit before sinking his teeth in gently and then licking where he bit her.

  He let his fingers slide down her smooth skin to her belly ring. He followed his fingers with his mouth, tonguing the piercing when he got there.

  He let his hand go on ahead without him, finding the small dark patch of hair at the top of her pussy and he brushed his palm over it.

  “Trip,” she said in a half warning, half moan when his fingers teased her, and he settled his weight between her legs. As he lowered his head to taste her, her fingers grabbed his hair and tugged. “Kiss me.”

  He raised his eyes to her and grinned. “Gonna. Down here.” He lost his grin as he saw the worry in her eyes. No, it wasn’t worry. It was panic and she had her bottom lip crushed between her teeth.

  What the fuck?

  He dropped his gaze and saw what she’d been trying to hide. And she’d been damn good about doing that until now. How he’d missed it...

  His fingertip followed the slight curve of the scar, then moved to travel along her stretch marks. Not fresh. Old. Pale. Like the scar.

  For as thin as she was it didn’t make sense to him why she’d have stretch marks. All radiating from some loose skin on her lower belly. He pursed his lips and studied the scar again.

  And then he went cold.

  This was why she wanted to kiss him when they fucked. It kept him occupied so he wouldn’t explore her elsewhere.

  So she could avoid the questions.

  Because he certainly fucking had them.

  And if she thought she’d get away without answering them, she was dead fucking wrong.

  “Where is he?”

  Not once had she mentioned a baby or a child. And she certainly wasn’t hiding one in this studio apartment.