Wayward Deviance (Wayward Saints MC Book 8)

by K. Renee

  “You love him. It’s not in the past.” He scoffs at his own words before he continues. The street we are on is quiet, and no cars are around for miles. “I always knew you were hung up on someone, but I never expected it to be one of them.” He says it like there is something wrong with them.

  “What? Are they good enough to work on your bike, but not good enough to be with?” I ask. I don’t even see it coming. The crack of his hand hitting my cheek stings like a motherfucker and my head jerks to the side.

  “You’re just a biker whore like the rest of them.”

  I don’t let him see how it affects me. He doesn’t deserve it. Opening the truck door, I hop out before he can reach for me. I always promised myself that I wouldn’t let anyone hit me like that. I take off the ring and throw it inside the truck before slamming the door. He yells something at me, but I just ignore it and start walking back to the clubhouse. I know that people will still be there and someone will take me home.

  Shit. He will probably be there when I get there. Maybe Anslie or my sister will let me stay with them? I hear his truck peel off into the distance, and I finally let out the sob that was stuck in my throat.

  Grabbing my phone from my bag, I dial Anslie’s number and pray that she answers. My heels sink into the dirt on the side of the road, and I know that they are going to be ruined by the time I get there. It’s chilly, and I’m lucky that the alcohol is still keeping my body somewhat warm.

  “Hey, is everything all right? I’m so sorry about my brother –” she goes to continue, but I cut her off.

  “I need a ride.” My voice cracks and I have to wipe the tears that start falling down my cheeks.

  “Where are you? Are you okay?” I try to stop the tears, but it’s no use.

  “I’m maybe two miles away. I’m walking.”

  She yells at someone in the background before telling me that someone is coming to get me. I hear Brant’s voice, and soon it’s him I’m talking to instead.

  “Are you okay, Brynn?” I swallow and try to think of the best way to answer the question.

  Am I really okay? Yeah. The only thing that is hurt is my heart and my cheek. “I’ll be fine,” I finally whisper. He grunts something out to someone and before I know it a couple of bikes are coming in my direction.

  “Get his ass back into his room. I’ll deal with it.” I shiver at the thought of Bentley wanting to know what’s going on. He’s going to be pissed when he finds out that Aaron hit me. One thing that I know about the Wayward Saints is that they don’t allow any man to physically hurt a woman. A few of the ole’ ladies had been hurt by men before and from the whispers I’ve heard, it didn’t end well for those men.

  A Harley comes to a stop in front of me, and I tell Brantley that they are here for me. “Robbie won’t let anything happen to you,” he says before he tells Anslie that her brother is with me.

  “Hey, darlin’. Come and hop on. Let's get you somewhere warm.” I nod my head and tell Brant thank you before hanging up and tucking my phone back into my purse. Robbie takes it from me and shoves it into his bag before getting back onto his bike and helping me on.

  The ride back to the Wayward Tavern is quick and ice cold. The wind made it ten times colder in this damn dress and hard as hell to hold on without showing my vagina to everyone in a ten-mile vicinity.

  When we pull up to the bike shop, Robbie helps me off and grins. “Be careful. If Bent finds out you were flashing your cunt to everyone here, he might go all caveman on your ass and drag you back to his room.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes.

  Sometimes I think these guys are still fourteen-year-old horndogs.

  The doors to the bar slam open and Anslie and a few of the other ole’ ladies come outside and straight for me. Anslie grabs my face and forces it to the side before grimacing. Shit, it must be worse than it feels.

  “He is going to kill him.” Her voice is low, and she looks over her shoulder at Brant before releasing me. “Are you okay?” I nod my head, afraid of my own voice. I don’t even know if I could say the words right now. A loud commotion comes from behind the girls, and all heads turn towards the doors of the clubhouse.

  “Bash, get the fuck off of me.” His voice rings clear through the night, and I can’t help but shiver at the thought of what he might do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bentley

  "Bash, get the fuck off me," I growl. I shake his hold on me and head straight for Brynn. I saw the look on my sister's face, and I know he hit her. Stomping over toward her, I walk around the girls, not giving a shit the dirty looks they are all giving me. Everyone is still pissed that I kissed Brynn during her engagement party, but I don't give a fuck. I don't regret it one bit.

  But that fucking asshole is going to regret ever laying a finger on the beautiful girl standing in front of me.

  I cup her cheek and move her face so I can get a good look at the handprint on her cheek. Such a fucking pussy. Brynn doesn’t fight me when I pull her into my body. Instead, she wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes me tightly.

  Instead of saying a word to my sister, I turn to Brynn and walk her out of the cold and into the clubhouse. “Where are you going?” she calls out to us.

  “Inside,” I grunt out, not giving her any more than that. She huffs but doesn’t say anything else. She knows I’d never hurt Brynn. I may say fucked up things, but I would never lay a hand on a woman, especially not this one unless I was spanking her ass.

  I get her through the clubhouse and into my room quickly before I shut the door and box her in. I know if he just hit her that I shouldn’t do it, but I need to find out what happened. Not that it will matter much. He signed his death warrant the moment he laid his hand on her.

  “Talk to me,” I murmur, brushing the hair out of her face. She looks like she’s been crying and it just pisses me off more.

  I know I’m partly to blame for whatever pissed him off, but to lay a hand on a woman isn’t the answer ever. “He was pissed. You kissed me in front of everyone, in front of him.” She chokes out a sob, and even though I know I should feel like shit, I don’t. I don’t care about pissing him off because I know that I could whoop his ass if I needed to.

  “Then I made the mistake of telling your sister that I loved you.” I feel like I just got the wind knocked out of me. I stare at her in shock, and the tears just fall down her face more. “Of course you never gave me a shot. Instead, you told me that you couldn’t be with me, that’d you ruin me. You walked out the door and never looked back. You crushed me, and he picked me back up and put the pieces back together.” She punches me in the gut, and I grunt out in pain. For being a tiny little thing, she sure can pack a punch.

  She shakes her head, white blonde hair bouncing all around her face. “You didn’t care that you hurt me. Instead, you went away and probably fucked half the town you were in.” The tears fall faster down her face, and there is nothing I can do to stop them. I hate being the one that hurt her, but I’ve known since day one that I would. I want to take back every shitty thing I’ve done to her but it’s impossible.

  “I’m so fucking sorry,” I whisper. I bow my head slightly, and she surprises me by grabbing my face with her hands.

  “I told you I was bad for you even though I craved you like nothing else. I’ve wanted you since the day I saw you in the damn office, bent over your desk looking for some paperwork. I didn’t want to be like my brothers. I never wanted to fall for someone because of the lifestyle I live. I’ve watched my family fall apart with the death of my brother. I’ve seen what it does to the people who love us. I don’t want that for you.”

  I wipe away the tears from under her eyes, and I don’t know if it’s from the alcohol that is still in my system or what, but I can’t help but kiss her. My fingers grip the back of her neck, and I kiss her like it might be the last time because I have no fucking idea what is currently running through her head.

  Her fingers dig into the back of
my neck as she kisses me back, and being the man I am, I lift her up and press her into the door, not thinking about the consequences. Her dress bunches around her waist, and she moans out my name as I run my mouth down the column of her throat. My hands slide under her panties, and I feel just how fucking wet she already is for me.

  I undo my jeans with the flick of my wrist, and I push my jeans down my ass just enough to get my dick out. Going commando is ideal for fucking anywhere at any time, something I am a big fan of.

  Grabbing her panties in my hand, I give them a hard yank, and the material rips easily, and I push her body into the door a little harder so I can shove them into my pocket. A little souvenir of sorts.

  I’m dying to be back inside of her, and I don’t waste any time waiting. I slam up into her hard and blow out a breath. Fuck, she feels like coming home. Even after all this time, it’s like I never left her.

  “Bentley,” she breathes in my ear. I groan at the sound of her small moans, and I fuck her hard against my bedroom door, not giving a shit who might be on the other side right now. Her nails dig into my back, and it feels better than anything I’ve ever done with anyone else. My hand goes to her throat, and I see her eyes widen slightly as she watches me.

  As soon as I start to put pressure on her throat, her hands go to my forearm, and she looks almost panicked. I know I should have warned her, but I didn’t expect us to be right here, right now. “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” I grunt out as I continue to thrust in and out of her. She doesn’t say a word but relaxes her body enough that I know she isn't freaking out any longer.

  Her lips part as I put a little more pressure on her throat and her nails dig into my skin bringing the pain that I need, no, that I crave. I can feel the little drops of blood as she digs deeper with every thrust of my hips. She’s so fucking tight, and I close my eyes in pleasure as the bite of pain takes over everything else in my head.

  “Fuck,” I grunt out, slamming into her hard each time.

  “I’m going to come,” she whimpers into my neck. Her teeth sink into my shoulder, and it’s enough to send me right over the fucking edge with her. I grunt out my release and come inside of her. I rest my head in the crook of her neck and suck in a deep breath. “Fuck,” she breathes, trying to catch her breath too.

  When I can finally stand again without the needed support of the door holding us up, I walk us over to the bed where I lay us both down. There is no way in hell I’m letting her leave me right now. I need her here with me tonight, and I don’t care what it costs me. I could lose her forever after tonight and know that I at least got a small part of her.

  She brushes the hair off my forehead and presses her lips to that spot instead. My fingers run down her side, and she lets out a sigh before moving down me and burying her face into my throat.

  "I'm not sorry for kissing you tonight in front of everyone," I whisper into the now silent room. Brynn hasn't moved from where she lay the last twenty minutes, and I know she might still be pissed about everything that happened earlier.

  “I didn’t think you would be. I know you better than that. You do what you want and don’t care what happens. That’s the type of man you are.” She stops right there, but I don’t hear any anger or any emotion in her voice. It’s more like she accepts it, accepts me.

  “I’m not the type of man girls like you fall in love with either.”

  She just snorts with laughter at that and pulls away from me. “You know nothing about women. Sometimes I swear you are about as dense as you are beautiful.” I narrow my eyes at her, and she just grins, almost proud of herself.

  “I know plenty about women," I state, grabbing her ass and pulling her back to me. "I know exactly how to make you come and how to draw pleasure from your body that you've never experienced before.” Her eyes dilate, and I can feel the heat coming from her body. She wants me again, and as much as I want to take her, she needs to figure out what she is doing.

  I don't want part of her; I want the whole damn thing.

  Seeing her with another man burned like hell, and I’ll be damned if I let someone else give her their last name. She’s mine, and I will stop at nothing to make sure that’s a reality.

  She clears her throat before telling me just how wrong I am about women. “That doesn’t mean you know anything about women. That just shows you know how to have sex, hot sex." I can't help but grin at that. "But you don't know the first thing about how a woman feels."

  “I know exactly how good a woman feels wrapped around my dick.” I waggle my eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes before rolling off of me and onto the bed.

  "See, this is what I'm talking about. Not all women want some man saying dirty things to them twenty-four seven. For months, you refused to even speak to me. You said maybe five words to me and grunted. And even then, I still couldn't bring myself to hate you after what you did." She looks down at her hands and rubs her thumb across her index finger.

  “Why would you hate me?” I ask, knowing the answer already, but wanting to hear it from her. Her eyes go to my jeans that are still undone before traveling up my body to my face. She reaches out and brushes the hair from my eyes again and gives me a sad smile.

  “You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. You fucked me and then all but kicked me out of a club because you couldn’t hurt me. You treated me like I wasn’t there after that. Hell, you left because you couldn’t deal with seeing me every day after that and two years later you come back because of what? You’re jealous that I was getting married to someone else? I don’t get you, Bentley. I wish I did, but I don't understand what you are doing or thinking, and I want to so damn badly, but I can’t.”

  She gets up and starts to move off the bed, but I stop her. I put my hand on her hip and anchor her down on top of me again. I don’t care if I sound like the biggest pussy ever right now, I just need to make her see how much I need her.

  “Don’t walk away,” I beg her. I need her to see the me that I don’t show anyone if I have any chance of keeping her with me. “Just listen to what I have to say, and if you still don’t like it, then I’ll let you go back to him, but he will still pay for the bruise on your cheek.”

  She swallows but doesn’t say a word. Her eyes stare into mine, silently asking a question that I’m not sure I have the answer for right this minute.

  Will I kill him if I got my hands on him? Probably. He hurt her, and I’ve killed for a hell of a lot less before, nothing can stop me from making sure she is protected at all costs.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brynn

  I know I shouldn’t have slept with Bentley. That I am currently making a huge mistake, but I can’t help it. He has always been the one thing that I’ve wanted more than anything else. The moment I saw him in the bike shop, I knew that he would wreck my world. I just never realized that I would sleep with him on the night of my engagement party to another man.

  The best sex of my life comes from a man that could barely be in the same room as me two years ago, and now he doesn’t want me to leave.

  The truth is, I can’t go home. I know that Aaron is probably there waiting for me and that sounds even worse than staying here with Bentley.

  When he kissed me in front of everyone, I felt like I was right where I belonged. In his arms, the one place that I always dreamed of being. I sound like a moron pining for a guy that barely even acknowledges me unless it’s to bring me my favorite lunches every day since he’s come back to town. A small gesture that means more than I ever thought possible.

  My hand goes to my cheek, and it feels slightly swollen and warm to the touch. As soon as he looks at me again, I put my hand down and try to think of what to say to him. I know he said that I could walk away if I wanted, but I don’t think I can. Even if he told me the worst thing in the world, I don’t think I’m strong enough to walk away. I never was.

  “I left because I knew that seeing you every damn day was going to kill me. I wanted you more than anything I
’ve ever wanted, and you were untouchable. My sister threatened to chop my dick off if I hurt you and I’m slightly attached to him so I gave her my word. I had done pretty well at it until you were at the club. I took one look at you, and I knew that I couldn’t stay away even if I tried.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek because I don’t know how I feel about this so far. Anslie was trying to protect me from her brother’s sleazy ways, but I can protect myself. I don’t need people always fighting my battles for me.

  “The asshole had his hands on you, and I saw red. I had to get him the fuck away from you. After that night, I wanted to say I was sorry for what happened, but my pride got in the way. You see me. You see the man I am, and I know it makes you think twice about me. I’m no good, I know that, but I care about you more than any other woman. I left because if I didn’t, I would have claimed you. I would have drug you so far deep into my life that you would never find your way back out. It would have consumed you, every perfect fucking inch.” His eyes trail down my body before they come back to my eyes.

  "Seeing you with that dick that you were going to marry just about killed me. I should never have left." I don't let him continue. I move closer to him and kiss him hard, knocking us both back onto the mattress. His hands slide up the sides of my neck, and he holds my head to him, not letting our mouths separate.

  He rolls us until I’m on my back and he’s laying on top of me, pushing me into the mattress with his weight.

  “How many?” I question when our mouths finally break apart. I need to know how many women he was with when he was gone. I know it won’t change anything and will only break my heart a little more, but I need to know. My mind won’t stop thinking about it until I know the truth.

  “How many what, Brynn?” His voice is a low murmur, but the look in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what I’m asking.

  “How many women? How many women were you with while you were gone?”