MALICE (A HOUNDS OF HELL MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE)
Page 21
Of course, it wasn’t that she cared about me, it was all about her.
It was always about her.
Despite never being around, she still wouldn’t let me be independent. She had some screwed up Mother Theresa complex. It was almost like the fact that I didn’t need her made her want me to need her even more. And yet she was never there in the first place. It was all screwed up and twisted.
I shouldn’t be making a scene in front of her boss, I knew that, but it was her fault because she’d cornered me like this. She’d invited me to lunch, teasing me with some ‘exciting news’ to share. I should have known something was up when she told me to meet her at Departure, the trendy sushi joint on top of the Nine’s hotel in downtown Portland.
It wasn’t that she didn’t do swanky, it’s just that she usually reserved going to places like that for business meetings or to impress clients.
Or her boss.
I knew he’d be here even before I saw the handsome man sitting at the table with her. I wasn’t expecting her to tell me she was moving to New York, and I sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to insist that I join her.
“My life is here. My friends. My apartment. I’m out of school and I’m looking for a job. I’ll be fine without you. You’ll be fine without me…”
“This isn’t up for negotiation, Chloe,” she exclaimed, her voice a sharp knife of motherly disapproval, even though the smile on her face desperately tried to hide her anger. “Bear has given me an extraordinary opportunity, darling. New York is an exciting city. We’ve never lived there before. You’ll love it.”
I took a deep breath and stood up from the table.
“I’m twenty-six years old. I’m a grown-ass woman. We’ll be just fine living in separate cities. It’s time you let me go,” I said.
“But New York —,” she insisted.
“—New York is full of rats! It’s overcrowded, cold, and it smells like a sewer!” I interrupted. “Give it up. The answer is no!” I squared my shoulders, grabbed my purse and turned away, mustering all my strength as I put one foot in front of the other and walked out to the huge balcony looking out over the city.
“I’ll talk to her,” a deep voice boomed from behind. I ignored him and kept walking as I looked down on the Christmas lights and glittering Christmas tree standing in the center of Pioneer Square below. Mom hated when I walked away from her, but she was already mad at me, so I figured why not go all out and stir the pot a little more.
She was never going to forgive me now anyway.
I wasn’t about to leave this city. My city. I loved living in Portland.
All the grey, dreary days, the endless misty rain from October through June, finally falling away into long, blissful days of warm, lush summers. Our summers are short, but something about putting up with all the darkness seems to make it that much brighter once it finally does arrive. The landscape burst with flowers of every type, starting with the cherry blossoms in the spring and followed by the sweet scent of roses trailing down every street all summer long.
It’s a stunning city.
Sure, right now, it’s smack dab in the middle of the dreary season, but spring would finally arrive eventually. I wasn’t about to miss it.
New York, on the other hand, I could do without.
I’d been there once on a quick trip with a bunch of girlfriends during my Freshman year in college. I was so excited—sure it was going to be the trip of a lifetime. I couldn’t wait to spend my days shopping in funky vintage stores, exploring the warehouses of the garment district in Manhattan and spend my nights going to Broadway shows and world famous nightclubs.
We’d done all of that, but it had been incredibly exhausting. There was so much walking. Just one block was the size of three Portland blocks and everything was at least a hundred blocks apart. And forget taking taxi’s everywhere — they were way too expensive.
We were forced to walk past the wildest sidewalk scenes, which were peppered with the constant appearance of rats the size of large cats and the incessant smell of urine that stayed in my hair for weeks after I’d returned home.
I hated every second of it.
The Big Apple might be the center of the fashion industry but as far as I was concerned, I wasn’t in any hurry to get there. I was content to stay right here in Portland and open a small, boutique shop of my own, without a rat in sight. Besides, Portland was quickly becoming a hub of up and coming fashion designers. I was determined to be one of them.
The winter breeze and light drizzle had me shivering. I’d left my sweater at the table, leaving my shoulders bare. I flinched when I felt a hot hand touch my shoulder.
I turned and came face to face with Bear Dalton.
“Hello, Chloe,” he said, his voice a deep velvety growl.
“Hello, Mr. Dalton,” I replied.
“Let’s talk,” he said, squeezing my bare shoulder. The warmth of his hand was searing my skin, his touch so intimate that it shook me to my very core.
“Excuse me?” I asked, shrugging my shoulder away from his hand.
His eyes peered into mine, the darkest, deepest, bluest gaze.
“Just a quick word, Chloe. Come with me, please,” he said, walking back inside and throwing a stern look over his shoulder. I hesitated for a quick second, but my feet began moving on their own and then there I was—walking behind him slowly, drinking in his fit frame, his perfectly tailored black suit, his expensive Italian loafers, and cursing the manners that had been beaten into my brain at the same time.
Later, I would think back to this moment, wondering if that’s where it all went wrong. What would have happened if I hadn’t followed him? If I’d decided being polite to Mom’s boss wasn’t my responsibility?
But I did.
Willingly.
With only a moment’s hesitation, I followed him like a loyal labrador follows his master.
The dimly lit hallways of the restaurant wound through the place like a maze. Whispered conversations from the patrons at the low slung tables floated through the air as we walked past. I turned my head, catching a glimpse of myself in a gilded mirror hanging on the wall, but my eyes quickly darted back to Bear.
The deep blue lighting made his wavy black hair shimmer like jewels. He turned down another hallway and then opened an unmarked door, waving me in before him.
I looked inside—a private dining room, with white suede couches lining the mirrored walls. My stomach fluttered as I looked back at Bear, the demanding look in his eye catching me off guard.
“I don’t think —,” I began, shaking my head.
“Go on in,” he said, gently placing his hand on my elbow and guiding me inside.
“Mr. Dalton, I —,” I protested as I walked in, turning back to watch as he closed and locked the door behind him. He turned to me, a slow smile spreading across his face. I took a deep breath and tried to relax.
“Chloe, I’ve told you already—call me Bear, okay?” My heart was pounding and I nodded. “Bear, right. Listen, my mother will be just fine without me. There’s really no need for you to waste your time trying to persuade me to move. She’s just—”
“— No, Chloe. Listen to me,” he interrupted, his voice a low husky growl as he closed the distance between us. He brought his face close to mine, so close I could smell his musky cologne. “Your mother cares about you. She cares about this job and she’s unbelievably good at it. I want her for the position, and I’m not afraid to take what I want. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I nodded, my heart racing. The darkness of his eyes was mesmerizing, and now that they were this close, I couldn’t help but remember the last time I’d seen the tiny golden flecks scattered throughout the deepest blue I’d ever seen. I’d only met Bear once before, at a company Christmas party a few years ago. He’d unnerved me then and he was doing it again.
“But I don’t need to be there—,” I continued my protest.
“—No. You’re coming to New York, Chloe,” he s
aid, firmly.
“I’m not,” I said, finally finding my voice, even though it was shaking. I lifted my chin defiantly and cringed when he laughed softly.
“You’ve always intrigued me, Chloe,” he said, those ocean eyes squinting at me, his full lips turning up at the corners again. “You’re strong, aren’t you? Determined. Won’t take no for an answer. I like that,” he reached up, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, bringing his face even closer as lowered his voice. “We have that in common.”
I was speechless. Bear Dalton knew nothing about me. We’d shared one dance at that company Christmas party my mother had dragged me to and I hadn’t seen him since.
Here he was, thinking he knew me inside and out. Who did he think he was?
“Unfortunately for you,” he continued. “I never lose.”
“Is that so?” I asked, hating the quivering in my voice.
He was so arrogant! Sure, he was fucking handsome. And he’s probably richer than the King of England.
And yeah, okay, he's got that fucking body - the one that could melt most women into puddles of sex, but so what?
He wasn’t really my type.
He was ten years older than me, first of all.
Did he really think lowering his voice and flashing those smoldering eyes at me would get me to change my mind? What kind of weak, naive woman did he think I was?
“Would you like a demonstration?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, a teasing smile lifting the corners of his full lips even wider. My breath caught in my throat.
“A what?” I asked, my eyes widening as I watched his hand reach up again, his fingertip tracing my jaw and down to my chin, then trailing down to my neck. I swallowed hard as his fingers wrapped around my narrow neck and ever-so-gently squeezed for a fraction of a second, before sliding around to the back of my neck.
I shivered at his touch, his boldness shocking me.
His fingers snaked into my hair slowly. And then, ever so slightly, he squeezed, pulling my head back as he pulled down.
I gasped, my eyes wide with disbelief, my mouth wide open in surprise. Before I could say a word to protest, his mouth crashed onto mine.
I froze. Waves of pain shot through my head, his fingers tightening their grip as his tongue dove into my mouth, tangling with my own.
He towered over me, kissing me deeply as I whimpered, my body softening below him. When I felt his arm slide around my waist and his body press against mine, the rock-hard erection pressing into my belly, a low moan escaped from me.
He tore his mouth away and his eyes clashed with mine. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face and he nodded slowly.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, before smashing his lips into mine again. His kiss was deep, exploring, so hot, his tongue skillfully pulling every ounce of pleasure from my body. He pulled his fingers from my hair and brought his hands to my shoulders, gently pushing me back until I was up against the table, his body pressing into mine, his cock hard and throbbing and so hot I could feel the heat through our clothes.
Before I knew what was happening, my hand flew up, slapping his incredibly handsome face as hard as I possibly could.
I was so confused. What the fuck had just happened?
His eyes flashed with amusement as he touched his cheek, and a slow smile spread across his face.
“Did that feel good?” he asked.
“No!” I replied, my voice shaking. It didn’t feel good. Not at all.
“Then don’t do it again,” he said, his low growl a stern warning.
“Bear, I —,” I began, shaking my head in confusion, my lips on fire from his kiss.
His hands interrupted me. They were everywhere all at once. Sliding over the curve of my breasts, trailing down my belly and over my hips, until he was lifting up the edge of my skirt and I was letting him, watching with wide eyes as the fabric slid up over my hips.
In a flash, he ripped my red lace panties from my body as easily as if they were made of tissue, throwing them on the ground at our feet.
“What are you doing!” I cried, my eyes wide, my brain reeling in shock.
“You wore those for me, didn’t you?” he asked.
I whimpered when I felt the air on my naked pussy. His lush lips landed back on mine, kissing me as my protests died away in his mouth and turned to soft moans.
His tongue searched mine while his fingers found my center, plunging inside smoothly. My thighs fell open, welcoming his touch as waves of pleasure shot through my body, his fingers expertly pressing upwards, leaving me weak in the knees, my entire body shaking in shocked pleasure.
Quickly, he pulled his hand out of my pussy and tore his lips from mine.
“Open,” he whispered, sliding a finger in my mouth, the taste of my own pussy filling my mouth as my tongue twirled around his finger. I met his gaze, my questioning eyes daringly meeting his, a hint of mischievousness sparkling brightly in them before he turned me around quickly and bent me over the table.
A quick rustle of clothing, the sound of a falling zipper and in an instant — hardness.
Throbbing, thick, hot—his cock pressed against my willing depths. I strained and cried out as he sheathed his thickness deep inside me, biting my lip in a vain attempt to keep myself quiet even as I was stretched beyond anything I’d ever thought possible. I braced myself, my breasts smashed hard against the wooden table as he drew himself out and in, pleasure rolling through my body with his rhythmic movement. His cock was deliciously hot, piercing my sex with expert precision, his strokes full and hard and purposeful.
It was unbelievable. My entire being was submitting to the exquisite and unexpected assault.
I arched my back, forgetting where I was, who I was with—who I was. I lifted my ass higher for him, opening myself up to his thundering thrusts. His cock was massive, rocking into me from behind, sending shivers of unending pleasure shooting through my body.
My breasts heaved as I gasped for air, his powerful thrusts leaving me breathless and shaking as he continued to drive deep into me with relentless force. He reached up, grabbing a handful of hair again and pulling my head back to him.
I turned my head, opening my mouth, his hot tongue sliding inside of me as he fucked into me over and over.
“Now, darling Chloe, listen to me, okay?” he growled as he tore his lips away again, his fingers firmly tangled in my long black hair, his mouth brushing hotly against my ear. I nodded, my body on fire for him as he continued.
“You’re going to be a good girl. A very, very, good girl. You’re going to come to New York. You’re going to do everything I say. And you’re going to work for me, do you understand?”
Confusion flashed in my eyes, my mouth opening in shock.
His cock throbbed and swelled inside of me and he fucked into me harder and harder, thrusting in with each word, slowing pulling out and slamming me harder against the table as he pushed back into my dripping center.
“Tell me you agree, Beauty,” he demanded, pulling my hair a little harder. “Tell me you’ll come to New York before I cum in your tight little pussy.”
My mind reeled but all I could focus on was how deliciously huge and hard he was, how I had never felt such intense pleasure shooting through my body like this before and how I thought I would surely shrivel up and die if he stopped now.
I needed this more than I’d ever needed anything. Him, his cock, his body pounding into mine.
I would have done anything for him at that point, just so that he never stopped.
But New York? A job? What kind of job?
As if he sensed my hesitation, he pulled his cock free from my body.
“Don’t stop,” I begged, wiggling my ass, pressing back towards him. “Please, Bear, don’t stop.”
“Tell me what I want to hear,” he growled, his tongue darting out and sliding along my ear, the rumbling vibration of his voice going right to my throbbing clit. “If you can’t obey me, then this is over
before it begins. Your poor mother would be so disappointed…” He pushed his hardness inside me again, driving delicious deep then pulling out completely once more. His hands were resting on my hips, the head of his cock resting on my ass.
I whimpered at his absence, my head shaking in protest.
“No, no,” I begged, pressing back towards him.
I didn’t know what the hell he was offering me. All I knew was that I didn’t want him to stop. I needed him to finish what he started. I needed his cock slamming into me harder and harder until I came. I was starving for him, and as he pulled my hair again, pulling my head back until I met his gaze, I knew what I had to do.
“What’s the answer, Beauty?” he said, the slow smile returning to his gorgeous face as he reached down and slid his cock along the lips of my wet pussy. “In, or out?”
My pussy spasmed, unsatisfied, yearning for his hardness. Suddenly, I realized I didn’t care about anything else. Nothing else mattered. I knew I’d do anything this man wanted as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.
I nodded, tears stinging my eyes as I pushed back into him.
“In,” I said. “I’ll go to New York.”
“And?” he asked, teasing me, rubbing the head of his perfect cock against my entrance. “Will you be a good girl?”
“I’ll be good,” I gasped, lifting my ass like a wanton hussy, pushing back towards him. I didn’t care, though. I only had one care in the world right now and it was him. I needed his cock now that I’d had it and I knew I’d never stop.
“What else?” he growled.
“I’ll do anything,” I whispered, my heart racing in my chest.
“Ah, that’s it,” he said, rubbing the head of his cock against my entrance teasingly.
“Please, Bear!” I begged. “Please!”
He slid back inside of me, the soft skin of his cock like velvet against my own softness.
He fucked me—deeply, roughly, skillfully—until I was shaking and writhing on the end of his hardness, our bodies exploding together in an Earth shattering burst of sensation that destroyed everything I’d ever believed about myself, a volcano of emotion that changed the very core of my identity, leaving nothing remaining in its wake but a clean slate, rendering me starving for knowledge about myself that only Bear would prove to possess.