by V. Theia
He yanked her head back, breath rushing from his wet lips, holding her steady for his stare.
The touch of his eyes ran across her face. She always thought he had the eyes of a loveable dragon. Someone tame but would fire the city alive if he were angry.
Her arms looped around his neck; she knew he was waiting to see what she did next. She let a hand go, traveling it down his body until she cupped his rock solid erection. Only the jerk of the muscles in his jaw was an indication he was reacting at all. She molded that thick pipe, traced the shape of him through the softened denim. Tad drew in a rough breath, dropped his gaze to watch her hand rub him off. Only when he grabbed her wrist tight enough to hurt that she knew she’d taken him to a point of near no return.
She moaned and bent forward, capturing his lips this time. Languid with pleasure as his hands gripped her hips and started to move her, grinding her on his cock like a docile puppet.
The heavy weight of it filling her palm sent a hazy wave of lust through her bloodstream. Causing dizziness to descend from all corners. Now she was aching for him to be inside her.
There was a moment when he started ravaging her mouth, that she wondered, could she be any random woman and he wouldn’t care? Did he have a stream of interchangeable women through the door? It was a paranoid fear … a jealous fear that Tad could get the same from anyone and it wouldn’t matter.
She turned feral. Roughly dragging at his hair at the same time he about ripped her dress up her thighs until it bunched around her middle and pushed his hand inside her panties to cup her crudely. She kissed him hot and hard, tasting the flavor of the dragon.
“Say my name,” she pleaded. Needing him to acknowledge her.
“Get your fucking clothes off, Cookie.”
The relief was swift and she hated that he’d put her at ease.
He wanted her. Still. Maybe always.
She got rid of her clothes, this time she was the one holding the condom.
His eyes flared when he reached into his jeans and fisted out the thick swollen weapon she wanted inside her.
“On,” he growled and she scrambled her limbs onto his lap again when he brought the chair into the upright position, attaching his mouth on the aching part of her boob.
The first suck around her nipple almost toppled her onto the floor. She couldn’t stop whining, the pleasure rushed to the tips of her fingers, making them shake as she tried and failed twice to put the condom on him. He played so long with her breasts that her motor skills became like molasses.
“Stop. God, wait, Tad. I can’t…”
“Do it,” he commanded, sucking her nipple harder.
She was blind, but she slid the latex on finally. He lifted her into the air, kissed her belly and then dropped her down on him until she engulfed every inch of his length.
He groaned.
She gasped a little puff of air.
“All of it, Cookie.”
He didn’t wait for her to accept him, to adjust… Jesus, he was so thick. The stretch was beautiful. He took hold of her hips and drove up. She pushed her cry down his throat and then held on while he rode her from below.
“Hold still. Ah, fuck. Give me a goddamn minute.” He groaned while Roux panted from the fullness.
“I can’t…. I can’t.”
“No, you tight little sneak, I’m not letting you off lightly. Not tonight. You’ll take it, won’t you?”
“Yes.” She hissed, mindless.
“You’ll bounce on my cock. You got me this hard, you fix it.”
She huffed and panted. “I will.”
He got her moving and it was so exquisite, she could cry.
This fuck was desperate yet slow. He knew how to edge her to crazy town, to make her beg with whiny girl pleas so he’d let her come.
When she tried to take herself there with rubs on her clit, he shackled her two hands in one of his and fucked her even harder, hitting her soft center over and over until she was panting with her forehead on his.
Tad ‘The Butcher’ Savage was her fantasy man magicked to life. Made solely for her.
He let out a rough exhale, watching her lazily as if he weren’t fucking her relentlessly hard. She’d always enjoyed his face during sex. He wasn’t classically beautiful but she found him striking. A face so sharp it would cut diamonds. A mouth so lush it could thrill or destroy.
A grunt resounded in his chest when they came together. A noise she loved. Every pent-up emotion she’d ever felt when it came to him poured out of Roux, making her feel like a fucking animal with every last savage thrust.
She came so hard she saw spots behind her closed eyelids. Incapable of doing anything else other than let it run its course.
“Goddamn. I dream of hearing that sound from you.” She knew she shouldn’t take anything he said as affection, not to build more of this than it was, but she couldn’t help it. His hoarse words speared her heart, warming her through.
“Give me your mouth,” she pleaded.
His eyes flared. “Take it, what are you waiting for?”
The hours passed too quick.
It was always the case, borrowed time went twice as fast.
She had fallen into an exhausted sleep right there on his lap because the next thing Roux knew, she awoke in his bed, curled naked on Tad’s chest.
Oh, god. The thrill and peace of it near broke her heart. She only allowed herself a minute to enjoy his arms around her before she slipped out of his bed and found her clothes in the other room.
He was going to hate her for this and she wouldn’t blame him. He’d assume she used him for his dick again. Her truth was she’d needed to be with him. With or without sex, that was her reality and sometimes that pull was impossible to ignore.
This whole life of theirs wasn’t fair when outside factors dictated that they couldn’t be together.
She was no longer seventeen and too young. She was a grown-ass woman capable of making her own choices and mistakes. But the biker world was bigger than her needs.
It took extra strength to leave that morning. She stood in the hallway glancing back toward the bedroom where he slept soundly. He’d worn a grin on his face right before he dropped into sleep. They’d gone at each other like animals, hardly talking at all other than Tad’s sexy commands to get on his cock. That grin, ah man, it was satisfaction but it also felt as though he was happy in that moment.
These stolen moments were everything to Roux and broke her a little more each time they parted.
Doomed to be with him.
Yet unable to stay away.
TWELVE
“Call him a sex-pert, but he knows when someone got some.” - Grinder
“Where the fuck have you been all night?”
With a glass of orange juice up to her lips, Roux turned to see her father filling the kitchen doorway. Wiping her mouth, she closed the fridge door after replacing the carton on the shelf and narrowed her eyes at his tone.
He was her dad, but Roux recognized Axel wasn’t ugly. With plenty of women sniffing around him. Some even tried to play mommy-nice with her in hopes of it helping them to win Axel. Gag. Roux hated those women most of all. Climb on Axel all they wanted, but don’t play friends with her. She didn’t want the old mommy or a new one.
Club chasers were anything but classy and she hoped her dad didn’t fall for one of them.
So yeah, he was okay to look at if a woman liked the scruffy hair, tatted, and ripped look. He was wearing soft-worn jeans and a black t-shirt, feet bare and his face appeared tired. But the way he spoke to her? Oh, that put a temper behind Roux’s eyes. She was not a fucking kid and didn’t need to clock in and out or tell him where she was going.
She moved to the coffee machine and filled it with a pod as he moved deeper into the room. “Asked you a question, Roux.”
Holding her smart tongue she replied. “I had things to do.”
“What things? I called you I don’t know how many fucking times.”
> He’s a bear in the morning, good luck to any chick who took him on because yeah, that isn’t good to live through. Used to his grumpy moods, Roux ignored her dad while she made a coffee and then put in another pod for him.
“Dad, I’m about to be twenty-two soon, do you think maybe you don’t need to know minute by minute where I am?”
Wrong thing to say to a bull-headed, throwback to the caveman days, slightly misogynistic man when his eyes darkened.
She moved the coffee she’d made him over to the counter where he leaned on the countertop, glaring at her.
She really needed her own place.
“You know the bullshit going on, so fucking yes, I need to know where you are when you go missing and don’t fucking answer your goddamn phone. You had the boys out looking for you.”
His tone was raspy and rough. Axel didn’t need to raise his voice to convey he was angry. She was used to it so she shrugged and sipped her coffee. “I didn’t need finding and no, dad, I don’t know the bullshit because you tell me nothing.”
“You need to stick close to Reno.”
She snorted. “Yeah. Not happening in this lifetime.”
“Roux.” He growled.
“I’m moving out,” she blurted and watched surprised hurt flicker over her dad’s face.
“What the fuck? You’re not going anywhere.”
“See! It’s this which tells me it’s time I got my own place.”
“Fine. You can move in with Reno.”
What. In. The. Actual. Fuck?
Pain jabbed her in the belly.
It was parental rejection 2.0 and from the one man she trusted.
With his mouth set in harsh lines, it wasn’t hard to see it was pointless spewing her sarcastic retort when there was no reasoning with him.
“That’s not happening either. Until you tell me what’s going on, I’m living my life my way. You don’t have to like it but you can’t hand me over to someone and expect me to be on board.”
A great growl came out of Axel and the air turned cold.
When he spoke it wasn’t with an affectionate father timber. It was a notorious MC prez.
“You will do as you’re fucking told for once. Try and push me, Roux. See what happens.”
His threat was clear as he prowled out of the kitchen, slamming a door behind him.
A threat from Axel was rarely a bluff.
But she was a Tucker.
She’d marry that guy over her dead rotting body.
Whatever was going on with her family and the club, she’d find out.
She hoped it was soon enough.
* * *
“Our Butcher is humming the tune of a man who got laid.”
The man of focus to the ten people in the hang out area wanted to turn around and punch Grinder.
The bastard wasn’t wrong but still.
He flashed a half grin, keeping his boot on the edge of the coffee table while he lounged on the couch. It wasn’t even 11 a.m. and already he’d patched up a prospect’s thigh when he ripped it open climbing over a wire fence. And then he’d been making sure Tag didn’t exert himself before the fight tonight. Prince charming was currently talking to Rider in the office about one of the offers to sponsor him.
He caught sight of the VP by the entryway talking to his wife, “Why do you need to take so many fucking pictures of me, little bit? You have a thousand already.” Hawk grouched. Gia tugged on his beard. “Because I do.”
Ruby came through from the back room, she’d been giving Pretty-boy a new tattoo on his forearm. Then there was Judge, who was talking to Angie and Dix. The new prospect was fitting in well with the club. Didn’t backchat much. Always did as he was told. But as Butcher now knew, Judge’s main job was watching the girl typing on her phone. Butcher reckoned he didn’t want to be around when she found out she had a bodyguard.
Turning his head to Grinder, he tuned back into their conversation.
“Shouldn’t you be too busy buying tit pumps and spit up bibs to wonder what I’m doing, tracker?”
Ever since Grinder knocked up his old lady, he’d been strutting on cloud nine.
“I’m a man of multi talents, my brother, and I can do both. Gotta love Prime delivery. So who did you bang?”
The others were interested too with their stretching ears. Butcher rolled his eyes and kept his trap shut. If it wasn’t Roux, he might have spilled some deets. But it was Roux and he wasn’t disclosing private shit about her to anyone.
Least of all because the guys would have opinions on how fucking stupid he was being by risking getting killed for her.
His second booty call in as many days. He should be raging mad. And on some level he was because as he’d known when his eyes opened this morning, she was gone again. Instead of getting pissed off, he’d smiled making coffee, smelling her on his body, still feeling her moving on his dick. He’d text her to let her know where shit lied.
Butcher: See you soon, Cookie.
She hadn’t replied but he saw she’d read the message. It was enough for now.
But it goes to show her engagement was bullshit.
Tonight couldn’t come soon enough. Fight nights always put a buzz in the air.
As soon as the fight was over, he was going to his woman.
Fuck the consequences.
Loving her as hard as he did, meant he’d take the hard times in order to get to the good.
Getting dead wasn’t an option.
Not loving Roux, not wanting her every single fucking second of the day didn’t work for him either.
He was done waiting.
A woman that made his heart come alive was worth a war.
THIRTEEN
“A meeting of the Prez’s.” - Axel
Axel was under no false illusion that the invite to the exclusive fight tonight was a way for the Souls to play friendly with him and his club.
They weren’t enemies. Far from it when you consider how both clubs hated the Raging Rebels once over.
But they weren’t friendly either. Not after Axel almost killed one of theirs.
Him and three of his boys—two being the mad twins—walked into the underground basement. He’d been to a few before. Tag was a beast and had won him a fair bit in the past. It could go either way with the Chicago guy. Talk was, he was a straight up killer in the cage and had defeated every opponent, putting most of them on life support.
“I’ll grab the beers,” Chains said before disappearing into the crowd. His VP came with him to see blood spilled and to get out of town pussy.
“Don’t care what happens tonight, you make sure to keep a level head, you hear?” Axel pointed out and slid his eyes to Ruin. He might be a silent fucker, but it didn’t make him any less crazy or deadly. He could go nuclear reactor without much provocation. Sometimes it was someone looking at him for too long and the guy went off. Reno kept his twin in check for the most part. The last thing Axel needed was to have beef on Souls turf.
A chick sidled up to Axel and curled her arm around his neck, smiling in that inviting way. She smelled good and had suckable lips, but he wasn’t here for dick business. “Not right now, baby. Look for me later, yeah?” She pouted and slinked off into the crowd.
Chains came back with four bottles of Bud.
“Where’s Roux at?” Axel asked, scanning his eyes across the mass of people here to bet on an illegal fight.
Reno answered. “I’ve got eyes on her, Prez, she’s placing a bet.”
His fucking girl. She never learned, never fucking listened. She had no idea the things he did was for her safety. To ensure she lived another day even if he didn’t. She sauntered over a few minutes later, ignored him and Reno and stood by his VP. He saw she scanned the audience too. Always looking was his Roux and his jaw flexed knowing what for.
His growl reached her ears. “Roux.”
“Yes, jailer of mine?”
Funny. He kicked up his brow. “You really wanna start that shit here?”
“Why not?” She shrugged. “I’m going to go and find Poppy. You might want to keep your distance, Texas is here, and he’s still pissed for what you did to her.”
Axel gave her a look and kissed her forehead even if she was pissed at him, “don’t go far.”
When she was gone, he snapped. “Reno.”
“On her, Prez.”
Ruin, silent as ever, followed his brother.
“That boy is gonna have his hands full with her, Axe.”
Didn’t he know it.
“You sure you shouldn’t have picked Ruin instead? He wouldn’t stand for her nonsense.” His VP cackled and took a gulp of his beer.
“Shut up. Reno is the lesser bastard of the two. Ruin is good for killing, not being my son in law.”
“Too true. Bet he gets a piece here tonight though.”
Axel could give a fuck if his boys got laid, as long as they remembered their job of watching Roux.
He didn’t get nervous often, but this shit was wearing him down. He hadn’t slept properly for months. He finished his beer and tossed the empty on a table. “Keep an eye out, yeah?” Chains knew who to look for. “Gonna play nice with the host.”
“Sure thing, prez.”
Axel headed through the crowd and found Rider Marinos in a close huddle with Jamie Steele. The Prez of the Apollo Kingsmen. “Is this a private party or can anyone join?”
“Tucker.” Jamie offered a hand first. He’d done a little business with him over the years. Not much but enough that their two clubs were closer than either of them were to the Souls.
“Looks a tight crowd,” he mentioned. “Your boy ready, Rider?”
“More than ready,” he answered. “He has a lot of eyes on him tonight, people coming from all over to watch him make history.”
“Dunno, Rider. Phillips looks like he chews glass for fun.” Laughed Jamie. A scotch in one hand and a joint in the other. “They don’t call him the death bringer for fun. The guy’s got serious chops on him.”