by V. Theia
His free hand sloped down the curve of her back until he had a grip of her ass, helping her to move on him. Fuck, she was like a serpent curling her hips, driving him crazy and then crazier still, he lifted his pelvis from the chair in hopes of getting closer to that heaven but that would only happen if she let Butcher take her somewhere private.
One more taste.
Another bite and suck.
One more bruising kiss.
Not a kiss. It was a possession.
He couldn’t take her into his mouth deep enough. With each whimper he wanted to offer her every-fucking-thing to keep her making those noises.
She licked his lower lip and sent lightning to his gut. What a little minx.
“Get a fucking room,” cackled a voice behind them. Startled, Roux wrenched away from his mouth, breaking the spell but Butcher kept hold of her head so no one else saw the arousal on her face. He cranked his head and scowled at Tag, that asshole grinning at him. “Get the fuck out of here,” He said angrily and felt her put her forehead to his neck, like she was seeking solace in his body. It was the only thing that calmed him down, so he didn’t try to punch his brother.
“Do you have your own room around here?” She asked him, and the top of his head near exploded as he gripped her hips. She was circling him again, marking her fucking territory it felt like.
She smelled incredible, but he wanted her smelling of him. All over her skin, inside and out. Her mouth was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
He didn’t kiss her this time, he devoured her and stood with her in his arms. There was no stopping Butcher when she laughed into his mouth. No fucking stopping him.
The whole club disintegrated around them.
Her hands locked in his hair and her legs around his waist, she was the only person who existed.
This was crazy.
Fucking madness.
“I like how you taste.” She whined.
“Same, baby. So damn sweet.”
He’d known her only hours and felt like she’d been locked around his body for decades. Taunting him, teasing him, tempting him to the wildness inside her.
Roux kissed him with abandon. She shucked her clothes in the same way and left him with a dry mouth and itchy fingers to maul her. Loss of control was so damn close to his surface, but he had to hold on.
It took only a few short hours from meeting her for him to feel lost. Laid at his side, a sex exhausted smile on her face and his pleasure coating her bare belly. Butcher was so lost in her.
Found in her.
It was fucking crazy, but he never once questioned it. How he could feel a certain way about someone he barely knew.
He’d been wrong about one thing though. While her mouth was sweet, he tasted something better that day when he buried his head between her legs and ripped whimpers out of her.
He had her every which way in that small back room on the twin bed.
Her ferocious appetite and cries for more turned him into an animal. When she demanded from him and when she begged? Shit. He wanted to hand her everything.
Butcher’s heart crashed through his rib cage, coming down from another massive climax, when she climbed on top of him and collapsed.
Bliss poured over him as he palmed her little butt and she played with his earlobe.
“Thaddeus?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Can we do that again?”
Oh, fuck him. This dark-haired siren was gonna take him out, one fuck at a time. He groaned and found her mouth. Send him to his grave a happy man.
Only, that bliss didn’t stay so blissful.
Two days in fact, when his world went to shit and the start of his misery.
His perfect woman?
The one who fucked his soul out and stole it in her hands?
The one who made him laugh and threw sarcastic jibes while she sat cross legged on his bed eating garlic cheese knots dipped in marinara sauce and demanding to know every little detail about him.
The woman he was feeling things for… who he could see a future with.
She wasn’t even eighteen yet, and two days later, Butcher was nearly beaten to death for being unaware of her age and who she was.
He’d stupidly thought she was born to ride a biker. The sassy, confident way she handled him, turned him on like nothing else.
And now he knew why.
Roux was a MC princess.
The daughter to Axel Tucker, unliked motherfucker.
Untouchable.
Sacred.
Protected.
And he’d put his biker hands on her.
He paid for it too, almost with his life.
It didn’t stop his misery wanting her.
She’d wedged underneath his skin, burrowed in tight, made a fucking home for herself in his yearning.
It wasn’t the last time he risked it all for her.
Because Roux … his incredibly tough Cookie was his queen among mortal women.
And a risk worth taking.
Over and over and over.
Obsessions and addictions went hand in hand with suffering and they were not uncommon to a biker.
Butcher learned that the hard way from that day forward.
FIVE
“A lost love was only lost if he stayed gone.” – Roux
Nerves were a terrible thing.
Especially after winning more than twelve grand.
Roux jumped her eyes to Reaper. The quietest man on earth was looking at her as if gauging what she’d do now they’d followed her outside of the gambling den, but her gaze was immediately drawn back to Tad.
God, he looked good.
She wanted to hate the way she felt when he swept her bare, with just a look. She’d be lying through her ass because his heated eyes messed her up.
He hadn’t changed much since she last saw him.
His chest was wide with a lean waist. Standing at six-foot-four. She’d always been attracted to his lanky body and she was glad he hadn’t bulked out in any way. That face of his though…god, kept getting more handsome. She hated again how she noticed the stubble he hadn’t shaved in days. Not quite a beard, but enough it would do damage to her inner thighs. She was glad, she didn’t go in for the scraggly beard phase at all. His dark brown hair was still ruthlessly shorn around the sides but with enough on top to tug.
Full lips made for kissing. And she knew from experience what his long fingers could do. Thaddeus had the type of body made for women to ogle.
From the first day he’d bowled her over with his looks and then add in his rasp-like tones, she was sick for him.
Was it possible to miss a person you never stopped thinking about?
It’s been a long summer without him.
“Don’t tell me, you want the money back?” She challenged, hands on her hips. “I won it fair and square.” She needed that money and she’d fight tooth and nail to keep it. It wasn’t her fault if those inside were dumb as a fucking bag of carrots and couldn’t see a play if it bit them on the ass.
But she won fairly.
They just didn’t know they’d been playing by her rules, is all.
“Really?” It was Reaper who asked.
She glowered at his little testing smirk.
Tad hadn’t taken his gaze from her and she felt it itching under her clothes.
She wanted to see him and never wanted to see him at the same time.
She’d known coming to a RSMC gambling den was a risk. A risk worth taking at the time when she put in her 500 dollars buy in for the table.
Her dad would go ape if he knew she was mixing with another club in any form of business. Even knowing she’d walked away with Renegade Souls money.
It was one of those stupid don’t play in my sandbox kind of rules all MC’s held up to.
Roux found it absurd and pointless.
It was like saying all doctors avoided being civil to each other because they were in the same career. That would be some massacre
in an operating room.
MC’s ran on their own laws and for the most part, Roux stood by them. She didn’t know any other life. She hadn’t grown up playing with Barbie’s dream house. She had her own mini trike she’d follow her dad and uncles around the courtyard on. she didn’t go to school dances alone; she had a convoy of watchmen parked outside on their hogs ready to break a boy’s legs.
Life for Roux had never been normal.
And falling for a man out of her reach, forbidden by MC law was not normal either.
She felt the pulse of his aura from feet away and resisted moving closer.
He wasn’t looking at her like he was pleased to see her. Those green eyes narrowed accusatory slits made sure she was put on the back foot right away. She lifted her chin, challenging him to antagonize her.
She didn’t quite hear what Reaper whispered to Tad, but it sounded something like “You got this handled here, brother?”
Like she needed handling…
Fucking men.
She’d lived almost twenty-two years with outdated misogyny and overprotective gorillas who loved her a whole lot. It didn’t mean she’d stand for it. She rarely let her family get away with bossing her around, let alone getting handled by a man she once thought the world of.
Still did.
Whatever.
She’d let him handle her in only one aspect of her life and he wasn’t falling over himself to do that.
Reaper took off and that left her on the sidewalk with Tad. Butcher to everyone else, but she’d only ever called him by his given name. His full name when they were in bed.
Eight months was a long time to wait for a man to show he gave a fuck.
Four years was even longer and stupidly she kept on hoping things would change.
She didn’t want him killed, far from it, and she knew it would bring trouble if they announced they were together.
For Roux it was worth it. If anyone asked her a while back … eight months to be exact when he followed her to that motel room and spent hours stamping his claim on her, she would have said she’d give up anything for him.
Her family included.
Even her club, and she bled Diablo Disciples down to her soul.
For Tad she would have walked away.
But now?
He’d shown her he didn’t give a fuck, so she did what she did best by pasting on her fake face and didn’t give a bigger fuck.
Her motto was fuck the world first before it can fuck you up.
Her closest girlfriend, Poppy, was married to Texas, Tad’s friend, and even she didn’t know how messed up Roux was over him.
She kept that stupid secret to herself.
It was only as Tad opened his mouth and gave her that whiskey-soaked drowsy slow and sexy voice of his that she knew she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for this meeting.
Not at all.
Tad’s eyes darkened as he approached, putting rocks in her belly and a thirst she couldn’t ignore.
He’d never needed to flirt, not with the slow perusal he always gave her from the toes up over.
“Did you cheat?”
Of everything he could have used as an opener, that one hurt the most. It sent her chin higher and her eyes turned to two disks of ice.
Every time he spoke in that hoarse deep voice—usually when he was whispering dirty things in her ear—her heart and mind went stupid crazy, wanting more of it.
But hearing him accusing her … yeah, that set fire to her heart until it was dust.
She could easily become a man hater if it weren’t for his good dick in the pro column.
“No, I did not cheat. But you can’t have the Souls losing out, right? Fine, here.” She thrust her little cloth bag holding the cashed out chips into his chest. He didn’t take it. Didn’t take his eyes off her either. “Take it, now you can be the shark.”
His eyes darkened and her thighs quivered.
Ugh, jack that shit in, she warned herself.
Months ago, after her friend was drugged, she’d seen Tad taking care of Poppy and she knew what she had to do. She’d driven to their motel meeting place, knowing he’d follow. She’d known it and anticipated, pacing for an hour waiting for him.
He’d arrived like an avenging demon straight from hell. About the sexiest sight she’d ever seen, and she’d wilted when he demanded to know she had never been drugged before. Under his possessive rage his desire went directly to her head. For a hot second she thought things might be different between them. Until days had gone by and he didn’t call. He didn’t call or come by for her and Roux knew then it was never going to work. Unless she was willing to lower her standards. She deserved better from love than to become one of those stupid women who waited around for a man and accepted scraps of attention. It was accepted now she was never going to be with him in any real way.
She’d let go of him that week and avoided any place where she might run into him. The last thing she wanted to see was his arm slung over the shoulder of a woman.
That would kill her.
Seeing him now with coldness in his eyes killed her.
He bridged the gap between them, pushing her hand into his chest. His angered breaths fanned her lips and dried her mouth. The leather of his cut felt soft and warm, too good. She was a leather whore. To wear it, to smell it on a man. He’d always looked incredibly virile in denim and leather. With his hair brushed off to the side, the thick boots and wallet chain always did a number on her insides. As if they were attached to her sexual organs.
He was a walking, talking outlaw. By all accounts, a bad man if you listened to gossiping bitches who talked a lot of smack about all bikers.
She hated that bad men … one in particular, did it for her.
This confrontation was good, she thought, as she hooked the drawstring around her wrist and let the velvet bag hang loose. Now she could see Tad and decide she felt nothing. She was letting go of a longing that would never come true because he was too chickenshit to ride against the tide of a MC rule.
“Why are you at a Souls table, Cookie?”
Cookie. Ugh, it held the power to make her breathless and hot at the same time, but she schooled her hormones real damn fast.
We’re not liking him anymore, remember, you dumb shits! Get it together.
“Why does anyone gamble?”
“Because they’re addicts, betting everything they have at 2 in the afternoon. Is that what you are now?”
Oh, he was fucking baiting her. She saw it in the sharpness of his jaw as it ticked…ticked…ticked.
A woman walked by them on the street, glancing at their weird standoff and Tad earned points for not looking at the woman’s perky tits.
Roux wasn’t hurting for self-confidence. She liked how she looked. Her attitude could do with some fine tuning, she was no Karen homemaker, but she received a lot of attention from men.
“Well?” He pressed.
“Don’t be so fucking stupid. I play to win. I won. The end.” He knew she was a career gambler not an addict. She did raid the piggy bank for a fast nickel and she wasn’t cheating … today … in order to appease a need in her.
The money won today was needed so she could get her own place. She had to get out of being under her dad’s authority but in order to do that, gambling was the quickest way to get the money. With soaring standards for things, she wasn’t apologizing for her high maintenance existence. She’d bite her own tongue off before asking anyone for money. Roux was doing this on her own, her way.
Normal jobs bored her.
She hated being around people who looked down their nose at her because of the way she dressed and abrasive way of speaking. Roux didn’t possess the patience to explain in a polite way for them to mind their own fucking business and get out of her face.
Because of that, she was light on choices.
Gambling brought her closer to what she wanted.
It also, as it happened, brought her closer to him today. So, her
luck had run out, apparently.
The atmosphere crackled around them until the fresh Colorado air felt too thick in her lungs when he moved closer. He was tall, she was no dainty doll but when he towered over her, letting his head fall over his neck, he made her feel tiny.
Hands in his pockets, she could see the tenseness radiating out of him. The ropes and ropes of the leanest muscles defined beneath the thin cloth of his shirt.
What he had to be tense over she didn’t know. She was the one who got fucked over all the time by him. He got off and then left her behind.
Never in her life had need exploded inside her like it did the day she met Tad.
From that day on it changed the air around them.
Even now, when he was looking at her accusatory with his low lids, she felt it stirring, urging them together.
She needed to stay grounded and to put at the front of her mind how wrong they were and why it couldn’t work.
“I’m so done with you.” She had to say the words to believe them while ignoring the beginning of a throb from within her pussy.
He grabbed her arm, swung her around and plastered her to the wall, getting in her face so close she saw the flecks of gray in his irises and the slant of his brows. “You’ll never be done with me.”
He’s right, but her tight lips refused him confirmation.
He didn’t seem to care as he pressed the shape of his mouth against her cheek and growled, “wherever you go, I’d find you, Roux. Do you know why? Because you’re always seeking me out too.” The words were malicious. A hot threat and they spiked her pulse as she listed forward, her hands braced on his chest. “You are never done with me.”
Because she was known for her trigger mouth and impulsiveness—add in she was petty as fuck when she wanted to be, especially when she was hurt, she fired her bullets. “What’s it to you if I’m an addict, Tad? My life is of no concern to you.”
Something like pain distorted his face and regret twisted her up. She had the urge to fix it, but smashed her lips closed.
For a big guy, it always stole her breath how in control he was of his movements.
Tad was naturally handsome. She was mad how she noticed his every move when he came closer, giving her the masculine scent of his skin as he dropped his head. “You’re right, Roux. I hear it’s someone else’s concern now. Enjoy your engagement.”