I feel beads of sweat break out on my forehead as I continue to watch her solo fucking. Her hand’s moved down from her tits now, and she’s rubbing herself, and I move just slightly in the doorway, trying my hardest to see if I can get just the tiniest glimpse of her stroking her pussy because I am dying here! I want to pull her hands away and take over; I want to finish the job. This is fucking crazy! I can’t remember the last time I wanted a woman as bad as this. Usually it’s the women who want me, and I just give them their fantasy. But this is so fucking different it’s frightening!
I watch as her beautiful hips jerk upwards with each thrust of her fingers and it’s painful. Beyond anything else I have ever felt, it’s fucking painful. And I can’t stay here, lurking in the shadows, any longer. This shit is over. I need to talk to her, I really do. I need to talk to her. But I need to fuck her first.
Tomorrow we’ll talk.
Tonight I’m gonna take her, again and again, until she can’t fucking walk.
She’s come into my life for a reason.
And I think I know what that reason is. Now.
Izzi
I feel a panic surge over me as I realize he’s in the room, and I sit up and quickly pull the sheet over my almost-naked body.
‘Don’t bother, darlin’. There ain’t much I ain’t already seen.’
He was watching? What kind of low-down creepy bastard does that? ‘You saw?’
He smiles, and I try not to react but my stomach ignores the memo. ‘I didn’t see anywhere near enough, sweetheart.’ He sits down on the edge of the bed, and I’m shocked at how calm I am here. I know enough about this man to know that he treats women like crap, and he may have been the reason behind my need to finger-fuck myself to an incredible orgasm, the remnants of which are still lingering, but I’m over that now. That was a lapse, probably brought on by the sheer enormity of what I’m doing here. And I’m not about to become a notch on his President’s bed-post. I’m no biker whore. That isn’t how I want him to think of me. That isn’t how I’m playing this. I need to be the one in control, not him. He needs to know I’m not like all those other women he fucks and forgets. He isn’t going to forget me.
‘I should get dressed.’
I get up, keeping the sheet wrapped around me as I head over to my clothes, which are folded up neatly on the chair by the door.
‘Izzi?’
I don’t want to turn around, but it seems my brain is ignoring me too as I slowly turn to face him.
‘Why did you come to me?’
I’m not sure how much I can tell him. Because it wasn’t my choice to come to him, I was sent here. I just don’t know why – why it was him they said I needed to see, not really. I was told as much as I needed to know, but I’ve often wondered if there was more to it than I’ve been led to believe. I was just in no position to question.
He doesn’t wait for my answer, and maybe that’s because he senses I don’t really have one. And as he starts to come closer I step back, but the sheet catches my ankle and I stumble slightly, almost falling backwards, but he steadies me, reaching out to grab my arm. I’m grateful. It keeps me upright. The last thing I want to do is end up in an unceremonious heap on his floor.
‘Thank you.’
He doesn’t seem in any hurry to let me go, and I look down at his hand gripping my wrist. It’s OK, though. His grip isn’t tight.
‘Don’t mention it.’
He smiles, and I wish he hadn’t done that. I need to get out of here. I need to get some proper sleep. ‘I should go.’
He shakes his head, and I throw him a confused look. ‘We need to talk, Izzi.’
‘I know.’ He finally lets go of me and I take another step back, my fingers clinging onto the sheet I’m keeping pressed tight against my chest. ‘But I guess I didn’t realize how tired I really was. Maybe it’d be best if I just went home and…’
‘No.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘I told you, you ain’t going nowhere. Not until we’ve talked.’
‘So talk. Come on, let’s do that. Let’s talk.’
He shoves his hands in his pockets and laughs quietly as he lowers his gaze, just briefly, before he raises his head, his eyes once more meeting mine. ‘Y’know, we’re both ignoring the pretty big elephant in the room here.’
I cock my head and narrow my eyes. I’m confused. What does he mean by that?
‘I’ve just watched you fuck yourself, Izzi.’
The way he says that, his voice all low and dirty, it sends my stomach into meltdown! Against my wishes, I might add. I don’t want to feel this way about a man I don’t know, don’t trust; don’t feel entirely comfortable with.
‘I didn’t invite you to watch.’ But knowing that he watched anyway is suddenly a turn-on. I’ve gone from thinking of him as a low-down creep to liking the idea of him watching me jerk myself off. What the hell have I turned into?
He moves a little closer to me but I stay exactly where I am. I don’t move. I’m rooted to the spot, whether I like it or not. ‘Would the show have been any hotter if you’d known I was there?’
I want him to go. He needs to go, but then I remember, I’m in his clubhouse. I’m the one who needs to go. If he’ll let me. ‘You’ll never know,’ I whisper, smiling as I feel some much-needed bravado return. I’m a bitter bitch from hell, and I need to remember that; I need to remember who I am now.
He laughs again, and again it makes my stomach jolt. ‘I watched you come, darlin’.’ His mouth is almost touching my ear now, and I shiver, I can’t help it. ‘And that was good, oh, Jesus, that was good! But now I want to make you come.’
I close my eyes, just for a second, and the feeling of drifting off, almost as though I’m leaving my body and watching this from somewhere up in the corner of the room takes over. But I’m not detached enough to give in completely. ‘I don’t fuck men I’ve only just met.’ I know his reputation. I know women love him, and I can understand why, to some extent. He’s one hot, handsome son-of-a-bitch and there’s a fucked-up part of me that can’t help wondering what it would feel like to take his cock in my mouth and suck him until he comes down my throat. But I’m tired. I’m confused. And Mack Slayer isn’t exactly what I was expecting. I know his reputation. And I’m not going to fall for those beautiful eyes and the biker charm. I’m stronger than that. I’ll bide my time, I’ll make him want me. Because once he’s fucked me, he isn’t going to want anyone else. And I’ll have him right where I need him to be.
‘You still consider me a stranger, huh?’
‘That’s exactly what you are.’
‘I want to fuck you, Izzi.’ He shrugs, as though he has every right to say that to me. He doesn’t. Not really.
‘Then you’re gonna be disappointed.’
I drop the sheet and kick it away. I want to be cruel. I want to show him what he can’t have. Yet. I want to see how he reacts. Then I’ll know what I’m dealing with here; the kind of person Mack Slayer really is.
He bows his head and runs his hand over his hair. ‘You think that’s fair, huh?’ He looks up, and there’s something in his eyes I don’t understand; a look I can’t read.
‘Who said anything about playing fair?’
I hook my fingers into the sides of my panties and push them down, just a little, and he’s watching. And that’s making me wet again, I can feel it, and I ache to touch it, to bring myself to another wonderful, nerve-jangling climax but I stop myself. It can wait, until I’m back home and truly alone. Make him crazy, mess with his head – I remember what I was told; what I was taught.
‘Y’know, there are names for girls like you.’
I smile and push my panties down a touch further, almost enough for him to be able to see what I know he wants to see. ‘Am I teasing your cock just a bit too much, Mr. President?’
‘Jesus Christ…’
He turns his head away and runs a hand across the back of his neck. He’s sweating, I can see it on his skin, and t
hat turns me on even more. So I push my panties down as far as they can go and kick them away. I’m naked. As the day I was born. And I want him to look at me now. I want him to see it all, I want him to do that.
‘Baby, you have no idea what you’re doing. No fucking idea…’
He looks at me, his eyes scanning me up and down, lingering on my hips and thighs and I feel almost liberated, in a warped kind of way. I don’t know. But I like it. Even though I know I’m pushing a man whose limits I have yet to discover.
‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’ I breathe out the words as I lock eyes with him, holding his gaze. It’s working. He’s coming closer, and now he’s right up in my face and I can feel his breath on my skin, his hand against my face; his thumb stroking my cheek.
‘I don’t think you do,’ he whispers, and I feel as though someone’s kicked me hard in the stomach.
My heart’s beating so fast now, and it’s so loud he must be able to hear it, too. Have I pushed him too far too soon? Have I? Have I pushed myself? Because I want him to kiss me; I want him to do that. And the thought makes my stomach both flip and turn. I’m really not sure who I am anymore. And the fact there are times when I cease to care is utterly terrifying.
He’s so close to me now, one hand up against the wall by my head, the other still resting against my cheek, but I want him to move it. I’ve regained control and I don’t want him touching me anymore. It’s confusing. And that’s something else I wasn’t prepared for – the confusion. ‘I’m going home.’ I need time to think. I need his help, that’s all. Just his help. And once the job is done I can leave here and go home, and try and rebuild my shattered life.
‘You ain’t going nowhere, darlin’.’
He moves closer still, and I feel my heart literally stop, just for the briefest of seconds, and I feel that control start to evaporate all over again. I’m breathless as I wait for his lips to touch mine because I really do want that. I think. I don’t know. But it doesn’t happen. Instead, he laughs quietly, a deep, low sound that shakes me to my core, and at that very moment in time I want to wrap my legs around him and feel him fuck me so hard I forget everything else that’s happening. For a few, messed-up minutes I want to forget the plan. I just want to forget. But he’s taken that option off the table by pulling away from me, leaving me more confused than ever. But I’m also relieved. I’ve just stood here in front of this man, naked and vulnerable and he did no more than touch my cheek. That tells me a lot about Mack Slayer. More than he probably realizes.
‘Let me go home,’ I say quietly, because I’m tired now. I really need to sleep.
He reaches out and takes my hand, his fingers curling around mine and I make no attempt to break free. ‘I can’t let you do that, Izzi.’
‘You can’t keep me here against my will, either.’
‘It’s too dangerous, darlin’.’
I finally tug my hand free of his and start to get dressed. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘I’m not saying you can’t.’
I run both hands through my hair and shake it out. ‘What are you saying, then?’
He looks at me, but he doesn’t seem in any hurry to answer my question.
‘OK. Look, I’ll come back tomorrow…’
‘I know who killed your fiancé, Izzi. I know who killed your daddy.’
I stand completely still as my heart starts beating wildly, a painful rhythm that’s making it hard to breathe. ‘Who?’
He pauses for a beat or two, but his eyes never leave mine, and I know he isn’t about to feed me some kind of bullshit. He really does know who did it.
‘Mack?’
‘They’re part of a club that’s – they’re one percenters, Izzi. Do you know what that means?’
I nod. I know exactly what it means. And he still needs to believe that I’m not quite as naïve as I suspect he thinks I am.
‘You got caught up in something that had nothing to do with you. You were just in the wrong place, at the wrong time…’
‘Yeah, I had actually worked that one out.’ My heart’s still beating like a million drums, the sound pulsating in my ears. ‘Do you have names?’
‘I… Look, Izzi… I know the guy in charge of that crew. I do business with him…’
‘Then that makes you as bad as them.’
‘I’m nothing like them, darlin’, believe me.’
He’s lying. I think he’s exactly like them. The Soldiers of Darkness are one percenters, too. I know that. I made sure I knew as much as I could before I came here. ‘I don’t have to believe anything.’ I really don’t know what to do now. I don’t even know what to feel. All I’m experiencing here is a cold numbness. ‘Look, I… You can take me home, OK? Which means you’ll know where I’m staying…’
‘I’m not making you stay here because I’m trying to be a pain in your pretty ass, darlin’. I’m doing it because I don’t know how safe you are right now.’
‘Please, Mack. Trust me, all right? I just want to go home, get some sleep, and tomorrow… I need to get my head around this. Do you understand?’
His eyes almost burn into mine, and I feel my stomach dip.
‘Aren’t you scared, Izzi?’
‘The way I see it, I’ve got nothing to lose.’
He walks over to me, and I look up at him, and his gaze is almost hypnotic. ‘I’ll take you home, if that’s what you want. But I ain’t leaving you alone, you got that?’
He wants to stay with me. And I’m not sure I like that idea, but at least it means I get to sleep in my own bed. ‘OK.’
What choice do I have? We’re doing it his way. And, right now, I haven’t got the energy to argue.
Chapter Seven
Mack
I haven’t slept for more than a couple of hours, and even those were restless. I can’t allow her to stay here; this place, it’s too remote. She needs to come back to the clubhouse until I can figure out a way to deal with this fucked-up situation. I need time, to convince her that what she thinks she needs to do, I’m not sure it’s gonna happen. I’m not sure I can help her in the way she wants me to, not now I know who we’re dealing with. And that’s what’s kept me awake for most of the night – wondering how the hell I’m gonna tell her that. I can’t go after Viper’s crew, shit! That would be fucking suicide!
‘Want some breakfast?’
I spin around to see her standing there, dressed in nothing but a white T-shirt that just about skims her ass. She looks tired, so I’m guessing she didn’t sleep all that much either. ‘I’m not really hungry. I’ve put some coffee on, though.’
She grabs the kettle and fills it before placing it on the stove. ‘I prefer tea in the morning.’ She looks at me and smiles, giving me an almost apologetic shrug. ‘I’m British. I like my tea.’ She has a great smile, when she allows it to appear. But I guess she hasn’t had much reason to smile lately.
I watch her as she moves around the kitchen, fetching mugs from the cupboard and milk from the fridge. I can’t take my eyes off her fucking endless legs, and when she leans over the countertop to grab a teaspoon, her T-shirt rides up slightly, giving me a glimpse of her tight, young ass. She’s wearing panties, but they’re tiny, and most of them are where my increasingly impatient cock wants to go; right up that tight, young ass. But maybe not the first time. There I go again. I’m thinking past the first time with this girl, and the first time ain’t even happened yet. But it’s gonna. And it better be soon, ‘cause the wait is freakin’ killing me.
‘Why didn’t you fuck me last night?’
Her question takes me aback slightly. That’s come straight out of left field. ‘I didn’t want to.’ Well, that’s a fucking lie, actually. I wanted to fuck her so bad, come on, she was freakin’ naked in front of me! All I had to do was free my cock and we were home.
‘I wanted you to.’
Whoa! Really? ‘I don’t think you did, darlin’.’
‘Don’t tell me what you think I wanted, Mack. I wanted
you to fuck me. And you didn’t. Because I think there’s a man there inside of you that you won’t ever let out. A man who isn’t an arrogant, violent bastard.’
‘I ain’t got time for amateur psychology, sweetheart.’
I watch as she pulls off her T-shirt, exposing her perfect tits and a body that could make a dead man come.
‘Fuck me now.’
Am I in some kinda weird fucking dream here? ‘Izzi…’ Why the hell am I stalling? What the fuck is wrong with me?
‘Please, Mack.’
Jesus Christ, she’s freakin’ begging me! And I still haven’t moved a fucking inch.
‘I want you to fuck me.’
This is crazy. This must be a dream, because I don’t do this. I don’t hesitate when a hot-as-hell woman begs me to fuck her, and she ain’t the first to do that. I’ve had them on their knees in front of me, crying tears of frustration they’ve wanted me that bad. And every time it’s been something I can’t get enough of. But this time – this time I’m hesitating. And I don’t know why. She has no idea how much I want to fuck her. No freakin’ idea…
She leans back against the counter and pushes those beautiful tits out slightly, and that’s it. I’m on it now, I ain’t playing games no more. I don’t know what the fucking hell is wrong with me but I’m back now – Mack Slayer is back, from that momentary lapse of judgment.
Her smile widens as I move closer, and I feel my heart start to beat faster than I’ve ever felt it beat before, the adrenaline coursing through my body making my head spin. How many times have I fucked a woman before? Hell, I lost count decades ago. I’m thirty-eight, for Christ’s sake. And then I remember that she’s younger than me. But she’s old enough, for sure. I think she just looks a whole lot younger than she is. She ain’t no teenage whore playing dangerous games. She’s old enough.
‘You sure about this, Izzi?’
What the fuck…? When have I ever asked that question? I don’t care if they’re sure or not, I don’t give a crap. But, right now, I do. And it fucking terrifies the shit out of me.
Broken (Soldiers of Darkness MC Book 1) Page 5