Dutch cut him off. “We’ve shared some of those stories, Max. I’ve also made peace with Ron.”
Max turned his sights on Dutch. “You think my pop won’t have a problem with the Fury being resurrected?”
“Ron’s retired. He should just be enjoyin’ his grandbabies.”
“Ever think having the Fury active again might worry him because of those very grandbabies?”
When Trip said, “Tell ‘im he’s got nothin’ to worry about,” it pulled Max’s attention back to him.
And her, apparently. The deep frown Max was wearing loosened. “Hey, Stella.”
“Chief.”
Max’s lip twitched but not enough for a smile. “You know you don’t have to call me that.”
No, she didn’t and normally wouldn’t, but she was making a point. He might not be in uniform but as chief, he was on-call twenty-four-seven and this could be harassment if anyone pushed it. Even so, she kept her answer in a light, teasing tone, “You make Marc and Matt call you that.”
Max laughed dryly. “Just to bust their balls.”
She liked all the Brysons. They were decent people. And she couldn’t imagine they’d judge Trip or the rest of the BFMC unfairly. They occasionally came into the bar and they used to hang out there all the time when her father was alive and before the three Bryson brothers had wives and children.
They never had a problem with Pete, and they knew he was former BFMC. But then, he had no longer been wearing colors by the time Max, Matt and Marc were not only old enough to drink but had come home from the Marines.
“What are you all doing in town?” Max asked.
Before Trip could answer, Stella did. “We went on a long run to enjoy the day. Now we’re all hungry so we’re hitting up Dino’s.”
Trip answered anyway, which Stella was hoping to avoid. “Can’t come into town? When tax time rolls around, I’ll be payin’ my fair share. And since I will be, means we got every right to come into town.”
“Like I said, your granddaddy was a good man. Hope you took after him more than your father.”
Stella gave Trip a squeeze when he took a deep breath. He was winding up to let loose, and they needed to stay on Max’s good side.
If they kept shit cool, Max would eventually see the Fury wasn’t there to make trouble. That Trip was building a brotherhood, not a gang of heathens.
And Stella hoped to hell that was true. He needed to be careful on who he accepted amongst their ranks because it could get ugly really quick. And they did not need a repeat of history.
“You should bring Amanda out to Pete’s for a beer, Max. First round on me. Haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Heard you’re making changes.”
“Sure am. For the better.”
“Good to hear.” Max’s jaw worked a couple of times as he stared at her and Trip, which Stella pretty much figured was him sizing up Trip and also wondering why Stella was on the back of Trip’s bike. But in the end, he only gave them a nod and put the Explorer into Drive.
“We good?” Dutch asked the chief.
“We’re good,” Max answered, “as long as I don’t hear about any trouble.”
“If you do, it won’t be from us,” Dutch assured him.
Stella hoped to hell that remained true, too.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Max said as he gave Dutch a nod and drove away.
Once the Explorer pulled out of the lot and down Main Street in the opposite direction of Dino’s Diner, everyone began to breathe a bit easier.
“Ready for grub?” Ozzy yelled.
“Fuck yeah,” came from the guys as they dismounted from their sleds and headed toward the diner.
It was time to grub, and Stella was surprisingly hungry.
Must be all that fresh air, sunlight and having her arms wrapped around Trip.
Chapter Eighteen
Trip’s fingers flexed in Stella’s long, loose hair as her mouth pistoned his dick.
Jesus Fuck. He was going to lose it and he wanted to fuck her yet.
Hell, he’d wanted to fuck her all day. From the moment they’d woken up this morning to the whole time she was plastered to him on his sled during the run, and even watching her eat a huge slice of Dino’s famous Death by Chocolate cake.
He’d been drawn to her mouth every time she lifted her fork, opened it, and slid that moist cake between her lips, before licking off any remaining icing caught in the corners.
Those same lips currently circled his cock and were about to suck him dry.
He did not want to nut in her mouth. At least not this time. No, he’d been waiting all fucking day to fuck her and that’s what he was going to do.
But, fuck, could she suck.
His fingers twitched and his hips bucked a little when she squeezed the root so hard, the veins bulged. But when she began to stroke him with her tight hand as well as her wet, hot mouth, he had to cry mercy.
“Baby,” he groaned, tugging at her hair.
All she did was tip her light blue eyes up to him in response.
“Baby,” he groaned again, a little louder this time. “Not blowin’ in your mouth. Need to stop.”
With one last slide down and back up, she released the head of his dick with a wet pop.
Her face was flushed, her lips shiny, and her eyes held a promise that his nuts would be empty soon anyway as she went to her hands and knees.
Her tits were fuller now than when he first saw them and there was enough to not only catch his attention, but swing as she moved up his body, stopping when her knees were lined up with his hips.
It was then when he knew exactly what he wanted. Without unlocking their gazes, he reached out, slapped his hand blindly around the nightstand until he found a wrap, tucked it between his teeth and tore it open.
As he brought it down to roll it on, she snagged it from his fingers, and did it for him. Even better, she did it slowly while caressing him, even palming his heavy, aching balls for a few seconds.
“Stella,” he pushed from his throat. “Baby.”
She said nothing. Her lips were parted, her breathing ragged. And he knew she wouldn’t be quiet for long. The noises she made when he fucked her drove him nuts. Loud. Soft. Whimpers. Cries. Screams. Curses. He loved it all.
But there was nothing like driving into and having her buck beneath him as she called out his name. To feel her nails digging deep, her lips along his skin, her teeth leaving marks.
Best fucking thing in the world.
But as she grabbed his dick and held it still, rose to her knees and positioned herself, he had a feeling her riding his cock where he could watch her every move, every expression, would come in at a close second.
Though, he hadn’t had her ass yet.
Not yet.
That could end up being one of his top three.
However, he wasn’t in a rush and could wait until she was ready. They had plenty of time for that. If it was up to him, they’d have forever.
Not to take her ass, but for the two of them.
He was ready to claim her at the table. He wanted no other woman in his bed. No other woman to be standing by his side. He didn’t want to make breakfast for anyone else but her.
She was his.
He was hers.
He just needed to settle a few things with her before he took it to the executive committee.
The biggest one being her cooperation.
The next being, getting things clear about what the two of them expected from each other for the future.
One thing he wanted, she’d already had and lost.
And if she said no to his request, he wasn’t sure if that would be a breaking point for him. It might be, but he couldn’t imagine having kids with anyone else.
That meant Stella needed to agree or he might not get everything he wanted. He wouldn’t get everything in the vision he’d created for himself.
He’d need to make sure he could live with that. So, they would have to
have that conversation.
But not right now.
Right now, Stella was pumping his dick with her hand while she tucked the throbbing head between those plump, slick lips of hers and began lowering herself down.
Again, way too fucking slowly.
But when that warm, smooth glove surrounded him, squeezed him, rippled around him, he didn’t care that she was taking her time, going slow. He was just happy it was her.
The woman who got under his skin the moment he saw her in Crazy Pete’s.
It had never been like that with anybody else. Just Stella.
If any other woman had resisted him like she did, he would’ve just shrugged and walked away. To him, snatch was snatch.
But Stella was in no way just snatch.
Never would be.
“Trip,” she breathed, her hands planted on his chest. “You with me?”
He almost laughed because it was something he normally asked her. But what she was doing to him made laughing impossible.
She was riding his dick slow and steady. Every time she hit bottom, she rocked forward and back, her body bowing, her expression showing nothing but ecstasy. His might be showing the same.
But he didn’t care, he wanted her to see how he was with her. How much he enjoyed being inside her, with her, around her.
The weight she was giving him from her palms planted on his chest lifted, and she brushed them over his nipples, making the tips harden like hers.
Crazy but true, women hardly ever paid attention to his nipples. Also crazy but true, when they did, he found he liked that attention.
But he never asked for it. Just like he didn’t now.
Instead, every play she did with his, he mirrored on hers. Even though her mouth was slack as she continued to ride him slowly, he caught when her eyes flared and the corners of her lips tipped up slightly.
Whatever she gave him, he’d give it right back.
Whether it was the lightest touch or the most painful twist. A hard pinch or her fingers feathering along his skin.
The game quickly stopped when she fell to his chest, sucking one of his nipples into her mouth.
His chest rose and a groan rolled deep from his belly before he could stop it.
His fingers buried into her hair as she worked one nipple and then the other. Flicking and then scoring each one with her teeth.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
His balls were pulled tight and it wouldn’t take much more for him to blow. And he wanted her to come at least once more before he did.
Because he couldn’t get enough of her.
And if he came now, he wouldn’t have had enough. Not yet.
But he also couldn’t tell her to stop since he was having a hard time forming his thoughts into words. So, he yanked roughly on her hair and when she gasped, he broke her mouth free from his now sensitive flesh.
Using her hair, he jerked her up, her hands grasping his arms for balance as she continued to rise and fall, not once breaking her rhythm. He kept pulling until her head dropped back far enough to arch both her back and her neck, exposing the delicate line of her throat and those tits he was about to worship.
Curling up from his waist, he kept his hands tightly fisted in her long black hair, as he sank his teeth at the side of her throat, scraping them down her pounding pulse, pausing only for a second to suck at the hollow before using his teeth to score each nipple. One. The other. Tucking one hard tip between his teeth, causing her breathing to stop as well as her movement.
With her hair still held prisoner and that delicate, vulnerable tip held hostage, he gently scissored his teeth back and forth, feeling her whole body begin to tremble. Her pussy squeezed and released, squeezed and released, as she circled her hips only enough to grind down on his dick. Her subtle attempt at taking back control.
But he was done with that.
He had let her have what he wanted her to have. Now he would take them both where he wanted them to be.
He unlocked his jaw, releasing the tip, then sucked as much of her into his mouth as he could. Keeping one hand buried in her hair, he dropped his other arm to wrap it around her hips, then began to thrust up.
He moved his mouth up from her swollen, wet nipple back to her throat, burying his face there, sucking her skin as she moved faster, slamming herself down on him every time he powered up.
Her whimpers filled his ears.
“Come, baby. Let me feel you soak me,” he grunted against her neck, using her hips to jerk her down as he drove up even harder.
So fucking deep.
So fucking wet.
He couldn’t wait until there was nothing between them. Until when he came, he filled her. So when he pulled out, something of him would remain. A reminder of who she belonged to.
Of who he belonged to.
Because she might not know it yet, but she held him just as tightly as he did her.
“Give me you,” he demanded, pulling a whimper and a shudder from her. “Give me everything.”
“Trip,” came out on a shaky breath.
Her body tightened and arced as she drove down one more time and he met her there at the bottom.
She convulsed intensely around him, making him lose his fucking mind.
Because that’s what he was, lost.
Inside of her.
But he was also found.
The pressure inside him exploded as he latched onto her neck, coming deep, his dick twitching, his breathing labored.
And even though he stilled as he rode that high, she slowly and gracefully continued to rise and fall. Her pussy squeezing, milking every last drop from him.
She not only gave him everything, she took everything from him, too.
He was okay with that.
No. More than okay. Everything finally seemed right in his world.
His future set.
Now more determined than ever to remain on the path which was clear to him.
With the club, the businesses and Stella.
He needed to stake his claim on his woman at the next meeting because he was never fucking letting her go.
Never.
At fifteen he was too young and clueless to see it.
At thirty-five, he saw it as plain as day.
His woman.
His ol’ lady.
His partner.
The mother of his children.
His. Queen.
“Today was a good fuckin’ day.”
It was late, she was half asleep, but he was right. It was the best fucking day. She couldn’t deny it.
“The ride was nice,” she murmured, her eyes still closed. Her ass was sore from the long ride. Her nipples were a bit tender from his teeth and mouth, and her pussy a little worn out, but satisfied, from all the pounding. Not only from when she was on top, but from when he was ready to hit it again twenty minutes later.
Trip might be in his mid-thirties, but she swore he had a libido of an eighteen-year-old.
She voiced no complaints about that. Thirties were sexual prime time for a woman. She just never expected to find someone to explore that time with. Nor had she been looking.
But he found her.
“Havin’ you on my sled, bein’ surrounded by my brothers, was more than nice.”
“I was surprised you wanted me to come along.” And that was true since she was the only female on the ride. She figured the club’s first run together would be used as bonding time for the guys, to solidify their new brotherhood.
“Was makin’ a statement.”
She didn’t need to ask it because she already knew the answer, but she asked it anyway. “Which was?”
“Who you belong to.”
She pursed her lips. Her being on the back of his bike was definitely a statement, she couldn’t deny it. She knew it when she climbed on and wrapped her arms around him. But still... “I wasn’t wearing your cut.”
“Not yet.”
That was
a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross. Because the minute she slipped on a “Property of Trip” cut that’s exactly what she became. Property. However, she saw the way things were headed, especially when she knew he’d claim her in front of the rest of the committee, that was the direction this was going anyway.
She had tried to ignore it. But it was getting to the point where she couldn’t ignore it anymore. Trip would want to push on, claiming her and making her untouchable to the rest of his brothers.
Hell, to any other man.
Or at least that was supposed to be how it worked. Though, that was one of the reasons the Fury imploded in the first place. The biggest reason. Not only because Trip’s father cheated on his ol’ lady, which was common amongst the Originals, but because he slept with Sig’s mother. And not just once, either. When the truth was discovered, it had been going on for years. Years. Like a dozen or so. Stella had no idea how they got away with it for so long.
It always seemed that when a brother claimed an ol’ lady, it meant she was to remain loyal to her ol’ man. But her ol’ man? He didn’t follow the same rules. The problem only came about between Buck and Razor because Silvia was Razor’s ol’ lady. And while bikers didn’t care if another brother cheated on his ol’ lady, they had a huge problem if he cheated with one of theirs.
Total fucking hypocrites.
But that was the way of the MC. She also did not want to live that. Where Trip was her one and only and she had to watch him getting whatever whenever from whoever.
She refused to live that life. She was also not going to let him rule her life, either.
If she ever committed to a man again, it would be fifty-fifty. She was not a doormat for a man to wipe his dirty boots on.
Not now. Not ever.
“Are you going to push this? Because if you are, I’m going to push back.”
He rolled into her, crowding her with his presence. “Not gonna push shit. Want you there. But want you to wanna be there. Hopin’ you see it’s where you belong.”
Being on the back of Trip’s sled felt right. Once again, that warm feeling of home swept through her like it had earlier during the run.
Born into the Fury, maybe it was where she belonged. Had fate brought her full circle?
Blood & Bones: Trip (Blood Fury MC Book 1) Page 25