Beyond Her Words (Corrupt Chaos MC)

by Bink Cummings

  Damn, he’s perfect.

  With a push to his shoulder, I coax him to lie flat on his back and my mouth travels over his abs. One-by-one, I kiss each defined ridge until I reach that stupidly hot V of his hips.

  Lavishing along each groove, he moans and undulates below me, succumbing to my touch.

  Basking in the power, I move lower and lick his pre-come beaded tip. Tugging the foreskin down with my fingers, I engulf his head and groan when his flavor bathes my mouth.

  I squeeze my thighs together to dull the ache that consumes me, as Lachlan freezes, turning rigid, holding his breath.

  Pulling off his succulent cock, I look up at him. He’s watching me with equal parts worry and fascination.

  I should have anticipated this. I should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy for him to relinquish his control and ignore the years of mental abuse from his ex. I have no choice but to battle his demons with my actions and kind words.

  Sensuously rubbing my bottom lip over his cockhead, I murmur, “You’re so sexy.”

  Lachlan’s face slackens and he releases a repressed breath, the worry slowly dispersing from his eyes, and his darkened need replacing it.

  My stomach dips, and I suck on his tip for a second, swirling my tongue around the crown before I pull back and whisper, “I love touching you; every part of you.” Then I take him hard and fast. Swallowing him whole until he breaches the back of my throat and I moan around him.

  Up and down, I fuck him into my mouth, jabbing the back of my throat until it stings. I go wild, unable to get enough. Enough of his scent, of his gloriously thick cock—of everything that he means to me. I want to give him so much pleasure, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. I want to show him how much I lo—care for him. How much I want this. How much I need this.

  Over and over, I twirl my tongue around his head, sucking the pre-come from the tip before deep throating him again and again, until my pussy is soaking wet and my body is vibrating with molten lust. On my knees, I hump the air in succession with my mouth. My one hand wraps around his shaft, following my lips up and down. My other rests on his thigh, feeling it contract and release over and over again as I drive him closer to climax.

  Disjointed words endlessly fall from his lips in quiet tones of pleasure, spurring me on, making me possessed.

  I stop again to lavish his crown, and Lachlan’s body seizes, his thighs turning to stone. With a sharp jerk, he growls voraciously as hot spurt after hot spurt of his come fills the back of my throat and I hungrily swallow it down.

  Suddenly, without warning, I’m being tossed to the side and Lachlan’s sprinting for the exit and unzipping it in just enough time to throw up.

  My heart sinks, listening to the awful sounds of him retching. I want to go to him and make sure he’s okay. But I know he doesn’t like me seeing him like that, and I don’t want to ruin this amazing moment more than it already has been.

  The sounds stop, and I hear him walking back to the tent. He pokes his head inside, his face is matted with sweat, lips wet. “I’ll be back in a few.” His voice is raw, and all I can seem to do is nod, trying to fight away the tears and the guilt for doing this to him.

  Lachlan disappears, but not before he re-zips the entrance. I listen to him walk away, and the basement door sliding open and closing in the distance.

  Minutes pass and I roll onto my back, staring at the brightening stars through the mesh screen.

  I kissed another man today. Something I’d promised myself I’d never do. As much as I had anticipated the pain resurfacing for breaking that vow, I don’t regret a single second of it. I would love to kiss Lachlan every day for the rest of my life if he’ll let me. I know it seems too soon, but my heart doesn’t agree. It thinks it’s time. It’s time for me to accept him into my life without worry or fear. And that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to care for him the best way I know how. No matter how screwed up that is. Even if that means I can never give him oral again, or make love. I’ll be with him because he’s worth it. Lachlan’s worth all of it and more. He’s my savior and my blessing for a fresh start. A start I would have never had it if wasn’t for him.

  Some time later, I’m not sure how long, Lachlan returns to the tent just as naked as when he left. I lift my head to watch him come inside. Zipping the tent after he enters, his beautiful backside is left for me to ogle for a few moments.

  Turning, he catches me and grins. “Were ye lookin’ at somethin’?”

  I’m unable to help it when my skin turns tomato red from my ears down to my chest.

  “Um. . .yes?” I smirk timidly and shrug.

  Lachlan steps over to the blanket and lies down beside me, resting on his hip, head perched on his palm. I turn onto my side, my body facing his, mimicking his pose. He sets his hand on my hip and glides it down my back, just above my butt. Then, he scoots closer and fits a leg between mine, forcing me to hook my leg over his, locking us together. My breasts mash to his hardened chest. I set my free hand on his bicep.

  We stare at each other for a good long moment, soaking up each other’s presence.

  He’s the first to break the pregnant silence. “I’m sorry I got sick. I’d hoped that wouldn’t happen with ye.”

  I cup his jaw. “It’s not your fault. I can’t expect you to be fixed after our first time.”

  Blowing out a breath, he looks relieved. “Ye still want tae do that again?”

  “Yes!” I blurt without thinking, and he smirks, holding back his laughter.

  I clear my throat. “What I meant to say was. . .Heck yeah, I do. I. . .umm. . .liked it a lot.” Gosh, I’m pathetic, and blushing again. I wish I’d stop. It’s getting ridiculous.

  Lachlan leans in to peck my lips, and when he pulls back, he’s smiling, flashing a full set of dazzling teeth.

  My heart skips at beat at the sight, and I smile, too, unable to stop myself.

  “Did ye think we’d ever be doin’ this?” he asks.

  “No,” I answer honestly. “I didn’t think I’d ever kiss another man, let alone fall for one.”

  It’s his turn to go shy. “Ye’re fallin’. . .” He trails off.

  “For you? Yes. It’s kind of hard not to. Underneath all of that hard, broody, I-don’t-give-a-damn shell, there’s a sweet and caring man. And you’re a great father, too.” Crap, I’m rambling again.

  I keep going. “And. . .ummm. . .that’s just a smart part of what makes you pretty gosh darn perfect. Sheesh, most men, would love to be you. A badass macho man with a good heart—”

  “And ye,” he cuts in.

  “And me?”

  “Aye. They’d want tae be me ‘cause I’ve got ye.”

  Oh, Jesus, he’s perfect. Now he’s making my insides go all gooey. Dang him.

  Curling closer, I snuggle into his fame and we lapse into warm companionable silence.

  Some time later, when the moon and stars are illuminating us from the dark sky, Lachlan rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him. I settle my head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic sounds of his heart.

  We barely speak a word and just be, and there’s something perfect about it. He’s a man of little words, and those he does say are to the point. That’s another thing to add to the list of things I adore about him.

  Just before my eyes drift off, Lachlan kisses the top of my head and wishes me, his leannan, sweet dreams. And what beautifully sweet dreams they’ll be with him by my side, cuddling under the stars, my heart filled with contentment and love.

  “Good afternoon to ya,” singsongs a pretty, brunette waitress, wearing a floral print dress as she slaps two plastic menus on the Formica tabletop. We’re sitting at the little diner down the street, having another friendly lunch after my therapy session. I’m really beginning to love this friendship thing. It’s kind of amazing. But not as amazing as Lachlan and last night. Mmmm...

  “Afternoon, Teena,” Bonez replies, sliding over one of the menus to me.

  �
�Afternoon.” I yawn loudly, covering my mouth.

  “Coffee,” she pencil points to Bonez, then swings it to me, “and lemonade.”

  “Yes, and a date for this Saturday if you’re free.” Bonez reaches out to run a finger over her hip and she blushes fifty shades of flattered pink.

  “I—I can’t do that, Bonez,” Teena stammers, swatting his hand away. “I have a boyfriend.”

  “Bring him along,” Bonez shoots back, as happy as a toad on a stool.

  Sticking out her hip, she shakes her head. “Bonez, you know I can’t do that. . .I’ll be back with your drinks in a minute.” She pivots on her pink flats, leaves, and is clearly out of earshot before I raise a curious brow to Bonez.

  “What was that all about?” I nod to the metal swinging door that the waitress just disappeared behind.

  “She’s sexy.”

  “Yes, she is, but she’s taken.”

  He rolls his eyes, leaning back in the red vinyl booth, not bothering to read the menu that’s probably been the same for the past twenty years, anyhow. “That doesn’t matter. I told her to bring him along.”

  Resting his elbows on the table he leans in like he’s about to tell me a secret. Reflexively, I lean in, too. “Straight men aren’t as straight as they seem. Get ‘em a little drunk, stick your finger in their ass, and then they’ll be whistling a whole other tune.”

  “What?!” I shout, powerless to control my outburst. All the heads in the restaurant swing my way and I turn scarlet, shrinking down into the seat, praying that I’ll disappear. Bonez laughs, his entire body shaking.

  Did he. . .oh my, jeezy joggin’ jockstrap, he just said that, didn’t he?

  “You want to do her and her boyfriend?” I whisper harshly.

  The waitress returns, delivering our drinks and taking our orders. Bonez orders a burger, undercooked, and curly fries. I get the chicken fingers and a side salad with ranch, one of my usual’s. There’s not much to choose from in terms of restaurants in town. It’s the diner, that coffee shop that the rude chick works at, Whisky’s, a little dairy bar which isn’t open in the winter, a couple chain restaurants, and that’s about it.

  Once our waitress is out of range, Bonez takes a sip of his coffee before bobbing his head. “Yep, her and her boyfriend. Have you seen Calvin?”

  Since I don’t have a clue who he’s talking about, I ponder if I’ve just wandered into an alternate universe, and shake my head because a cat has officially caught my tongue.

  “Calvin is a bit too pretty for me, but he’d make a good, quick lay.” He takes another sip. “Plus, I like to corrupt innocent men. It’s fun.” He winks at me mischievously.

  Are you hearing this? I have zero problems with gays, lesbians, or anyone in between. However, Bonez and corrupting straight men? I’m not sure what to think, much less say. And here I figured he’d be giving me an extensive scolding about not texting him last night. You know, when Lachlan and I slept outside in the tent, under the stars, where we held each other all night long. Oooo, just thinking about it makes me melt all over again.

  This morning, he’d carried me into the house half asleep before he left for work. Laying me in bed, we kissed until we were both left panting and in need of release. Lachlan used his fingers to give me a glorious orgasm that lulled me back to sleep, and then he left for work still horny.

  Speaking of my man. . . Eekkkk. He’s texting me.

  Enjoy your lunch with Bonez. If he doesn’t behave, tell him I’ll kick his arse.

  I grin.

  “Uh oh, Smoke’s texting you. And now you’re blinding me.” Bonez holds up his hands to shield his eyes. “Damn, don’t smile so much; I might go permanently blind. And then I couldn’t fix your leg if I can’t see. I might accidently fondle you instead, then Smoke would really kick my ass.”

  Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Whatever.” I reach over the table to smack his bicep. It stings my palm, shooting a streak of pain up my arm, but I pretend that I didn’t just hurt myself by slapping a brick wall. Dang, he’s solid.

  “He just said to have a good lunch, and for you to behave,” I note.

  “Gotcha. But I never behave.”

  “True,” I tease, and the waitress delivers our meals, setting the big white plates in the middle of our table.

  I text Lachlan back before digging in.

  He’s being his usual Bonez self. Be safe, and thank you for last night and this morning.

  I should be the one thanking you, he replies.

  No way. I’m the one who came.

  On my fingers─ which I get to think about all day while working. If you knew what you looked like coming on my fingers, you’d understand.

  Blushing, I grin like a love-struck teenager. Who knew life could feel like this? Not me.

  I type. You can’t say things like that when I’m eating at the diner.

  Why? Are you blushing?

  Yes, I reply honestly.

  Good. I love it when my leannan blushes. It’s sexy.

  Who are you, and what did you do with my broody boyfriend? I muse, hitting send and then immediately regretting it. We never agreed to be together formally. Crap, I really stuck my foot in it this time. Way to go, Mags.

  I’m not your boyfriend. I’m your man. And I’m right here wishing that I was off work so I could taste those lips again.

  My cheeks burst from so much happiness. He’s my man. Ekkk.

  Bonez reaches across the table and yanks my phone out of my hand and sets it on his seat.

  “Hey!” I protest, trying to snatch it back and failing miserable. His reflexes are way faster than mine.

  “You can live in dreamy, love-land after you eat.” He shoves my plate closer. “Your chicken is getting cold, and you’re giving me a complex.”

  I spew an overstated huff, knowing that he’s right, and I rip off a bite of chicken with my teeth, glaring at Bonez in mock fury.

  “What kind of complex am I giving you?” I grumble.

  “One that makes my pants tight and my balls ache.”

  I choke on my food and quickly reach for my lemonade, taking a large gulp to clear my throat. His eyes smile at my reaction.

  “What. . .the? Where’d that come from?” I sound hoarse, still not believing he said that.

  My pants tight and my balls ache. Sheesh, those words.

  “Your smile is where that came from. You grin sometimes, and it’s cute. But I’ve never seen you actually smile, ‘til now.”

  “I did not.” I cover my mouth. I hate my smile; it’s crooked, even though my teeth are straight and white. It’s not my finest quality.

  “You did, and it’s hot. Makes me fucking envious of Smoke for putting it there,” he states with conviction.

  “It’s not pretty, though; it’s crooked,” I argue.

  “So?” He shrugs.

  “So? I don’t smile because it’s crooked.”

  “You should. You’d give every man raging hard-ons,” he states seriously.

  “Oh my gosh, can you stop?” My ears and my face are burning. I can’t take this. He can’t be talking to me like this.

  I fan myself.

  “No, I’m not gonna stop being honest.” He sternly looks me in the eye, challenging me to fight him on this. I won’t.

  “Fine. So tell me more about your male corruption.” I change the subject, not wanting to hear any more about me. I hate talking about myself.

  We lapse into a lengthy tête-à-tête about Bonez and his love for both men and women. How he enjoys men’s hard bodies as much as he loves women’s breasts. He knew he was bisexual since forever and has never been afraid of being himself. That much didn’t surprise me; he’s always confident in his words and actions. Bonez is sort of like the male version of Whisky. Blunt, honest, and caring to a fault. Except I’m willing to bet that Whisky doesn’t occasionally bat for the same team. Pretty sure her panties only get wet for one man—Sniper.

  My lunch hour comes and goes before we’re str
olling out of the restaurant, where I give Bonez my customary kiss on the sidewalk. Then I head back to the shop.

  Checking my texts on the short walk, I see two from Lachlan, one from Cas, and one from Bridget. I’d texted her this morning to ask what she wanted me to pick up at the grocery after work. Lachlan’s read, Headed out to a call. See you in the morning. Kisses.

  I reply, Be safe. Kisses back.

  Bridget’s: I do need some more of that yogurt you got last time. And you’re going to need milk. I stole yours.

  I text, Okay, sounds good. See you at home for supper.

  Cas’s is last. I take it Bonez wouldn’t shut up. So before you get back, run to the parts store for me and pick up the order I called in. Please and thank you.

  With a crooked smile and an extra bounce in my step, I head to the parts store. It’s a beautiful day out, don’t you think?

  Whistling and maybe doing a little dancing—okay, a lot of dancing—I make my way through Carolina Rose’s tiny supermarket to none other than the great AC/DC. I’m sorry, but it’s impossible to stand still when ‘Thunderstruck’ is clearly ordering you to let loose. So that’s what I’m doing, letting my proverbial hair down. Even if it’s actually in a bun, on the top of my head, since I was hanging over the hood of a Corvette all day.

  Tossing the frosted shredded wheats into the cart with some slam-dunk pizazz, I then mosey further down the cereal and candy aisle. Crazy aisle combo if you ask me, but whatevs.

  I stop in front of the oatmeal section and try not to wince, grumble, or spout any obscene curses as I unceremoniously toss two brown sugar kinds into the cart. Then I cover them with the sugared cereal to hide the revolting product before I light it on fire. Don’t think Lachlan’d appreciate that much, being a firefighter and all. I hate the stuff, but he was low, so I am doing my job and providing what he needs. I’m being a good girlfriend. Gosh, that word, I kinda love it. Don’t you? Okay, so maybe his woman sounds better. Ya think? Oh, who cares, it means the same thing. His.

  Mmmm. . .

  “Hey,” a deep voice calls from behind, tearing me from my reprieve, and skittering a gross, unfettered feeling up my spine. It’s Thor.