by KB Winters
“Fucking hell!” She was so goddamn wet I was pretty sure a premature load was on its way out.
“More. Harder.”
Her voice was serious, strained but serious and her dark eyes pleaded for more.
“No.” I hated the way the demons rose up at her plea, at the need in her eyes and her voice, the greedy way she wrapped herself around my cock.
“Please, Saint. I need it.”
Give it to her, the voice urged. You both want it.
“You want more?”
“Give it to me,” she said instead of answering.
In one quick move her arms were free, and I had Hazel face down on the ground, a chenille blanket buried under her for comfort, both hands behind her back with my hand clenched around her wrists.
“Tell me to stop.”
“Don’t. Stop.”
“Tease,” I growled and tightened my grip on her wrists.
“Up.”
At the command, her ass lifted in the air, giving me a perfect view from behind.
“Your pussy is so fucking swollen and wet. Perfect.”
She wiggled, and I couldn’t resist leaning down for a small taste. And then another taste at the bundle of nerves between her sweet cheeks.
“Fuck!”
Hazel wiggled again, this time adding a greedy moan and shot straight to my cock. I stroked it twice and slid him deep inside her wet, pulsing cunt.
“Oh shit.” She was hot and wet and pulsing around me like a motorized fucking pussy. “Hazel.”
“More.”
With my free hand I gripped her hips, squeezing her wrists hard enough that I knew she’d have bruises tomorrow, but as I pounded in the heaven of her pussy, I didn’t give a shit. Buried deep in the wet heat, the memories remained at bay. Just out of reach with something far more enticing closer. Hazel. With every thrust she collided against me, moaning and crying and—still—begging for more. Those needy little cries had my cock as hard as he’d ever been, and I wasn’t ready for this to be over.
Not yet.
With her hands now loose over her head and my body covering hers, I slid in and out in rough, deep thrusts.
“Yes! Fuck, Saint, yes!”
“You like it rough,” I growled in her ear, giving her the hard as fuck thrusts she craved, feeling gratitude with every pulse of her inner walls.
“Oh fuck,” she moaned, long and loud as an orgasm erupted out of her but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
I pulled out and flipped her over so I could see those dark, tortured eyes while I made her come again.
“Good?”
“Great.” Her hand snaked between us and stroked my cock, slick with her own juices, and she smiled.
“Better than.”
“Good to know,” I panted with a smile, but I was still hungry and the demon was nipping at my…heels, “fuck!”
She rubbed the tip of my cock against her pussy to wet it and then slid it to the darker, tighter opening between her ass cheeks.
“You want?”
I nodded like a goddamn fool, and slowly she guided me inside. “Oh. Fuck.”
Those moans and pants, the way she took charge of her pleasure and mine had my cock leaking already, and I started to push inside. She was tight as fuck, which said she didn’t do this regularly and that only added another layer of how I felt about her.
“Hazel.”
“Fuck it, Saint. I need you to. Fuck my ass.”
Do it, the demon urged and damned me to hell, because I took everything she offered, got lost in losing myself in her body, in the sensation of being enveloped by her. The way her gold heels dug into my side, that bit of pain only heightened everything. When Hazel’s fingers began to play with her clit as her back arched, I was lost.
I was more than lost, I was in trouble.
“Hazel,” I growled in warning, the way her asshole pulsed brought me closer to the edge.
“Let go Saint, I’m close.” She grabbed one of my wrists and put my hand to her throat, silently begging me to give her what she wanted.
Weak fucker that I was, I gave it to her. Gripping her neck, squeezing that delicate flesh as I fucked her ass turned me on, made my dick even harder as I plunged in and out of her, which got a steady stream of lubrication from her dripping pussy.
“Hazel, oh fuck!” I pounded harder and faster, squeezing her neck with more pressure than was necessary, but as pleasure took over I couldn’t stop.
Couldn’t control it.
And worse, I didn’t want to. I slid in and out until every drop of me was gone, hard and fast, while she kept a tight grip on my wrist with one hand and her clit with the other. She was close, I could feel it as I slid two fingers into her pussy.
“Yes, oh God yes, Saint!” And then, like some kind of goddess of debauchery and kink, she flew apart, dark eyes wide with wonder and for the first time since I met her, genuine happiness.
I’d done that to her. It was just an orgasm, but it felt like more. So I watched as she rode the waves of pleasure, unashamed of her needs, her desires, in fact she reveled in them, laughing as the last of her orgasm slipped away.
“You’re beautiful when you come.”
She flashed a sleep, satisfied smiled. “You’re beautiful when I come too.”
I watched her face for a few minutes and then got us both back to the bunkhouse and into one bed.
Where we both belonged.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hazel
I woke up in an unfamiliar bed and not knowing how I got there, but the delicious aches all over my body were a pretty good indication that I’d had some spectacular sex. The smile on my face was absolute proof of that because so rarely had sex ever made me smile. Cringe. Squirm. Come even, but rarely a smile. I closed my eyes to recall the memories, stretching my muscles and hitting a hard surface that made me jump.
“Shit, you scared the hell out of me, Saint.”
“Expecting someone else?”
“Honestly I was expecting no one at all.”
I figured he’d be in his own bed and me in mine, but now I could see that the pillowcase under my hair was his and so were the sheets. This was Saint’s bed.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“I’m not disappointed at all, just surprised.” But now that I was awake and he was awake, naked with all those muscles and tattoos on display. Making my mouth water.
“Since you’re here, we should say ‘good morning’ the right way.” My hand slid below the sheet, finding Saint just the way I liked him, hard and ready.
“I like the way you think, Hazel.” He pulled me on top of him and fitted his lips to mine, amazingly like they were always meant to be there. Like we were made for each other.
No thoughts like that, I had to remind myself. This was sex. It was fun. That was it. Nothing more.
Yet when my legs parted and I felt the hard ridge of him press against my clit, it felt like it was more. It felt real. Not that I had any fucking clue what real felt like, only that this felt different. Somehow.
We kissed like horny teenagers, eager and excited to touch each other but content to simply kiss. It was so simple that I waited, expecting something to happen, to ruin it all.
Saint pulled back with a smile and a groan. “You’re trying to kill me, woman.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to avoid this awkward conversation we’re about to have.”
“Awkward?”
“Yep,” she nodded. “The one where you tell me that it was fun and amazing and all that, but it can’t happen. You’re my boss, blah blah. Right?”
I’d heard the story in all its versions, a million times. Knew it by heart, in fact.
“Wrong. I just wanted to say that maybe we ought to be careful at work, in case anyone gets the wrong idea.”
“What’s that, you like to fuck the help?”
“Seriously? Is that what you’re gonna do now, start a fight?”
“No,” my shoulders
sank. “This is weird and I don’t know why, because it shouldn’t be.”
I hated all these disgusting emotions; it was one of the reasons I kept sex dirty and anonymous.
“It’s weird because it matters. You can pretend it doesn’t, and I can too, but apparently it does.”
His arms wrapped around me from behind and he held me close, warm breath fanning my shoulder.
“I don’t know what’s going on either Hazel, but I’m done trying to fight it.”
That sounded nice but unrealistic. “Easy for you to say. If things end, you’ll still have a job.”
“So will you.”
I snorted because we both knew that was complete bullshit. “You will, I promise you and if you don’t believe me, believe Gunnar.”
“I don’t know, Saint.”
“Me either and that’s the beauty of it. Let’s just move forward and see what happens. Maybe you’ll fall in love with me, maybe you’ll kill me or maybe we’ll end up good friends.”
“Good friends who fuck?”
His lips tugged into a smile at my words.
“Nothing wrong with that, right?”
“Right,” I agreed and turned in his arms to receive his kiss. It was hot right off the bat, scorching as his hands roamed all over my body while my hands did the same. We were hungry for each other. Again. Or was it still? I didn’t know, all I knew was that nothing existed in that moment other than me and Saint.
Until a commotion sounded outside. Voices. A lot of voices that sounded angry. Frantic.
Scared.
“You hear that?”
“Yeah,” Saint growled and sat up. In less than a minute he was fully dressed and heading out of the bunkhouse, with me on his tail in slightly less clothing.
“What’s going on?” Saint asked.
Gunnar stood in the middle of the group with a thunderous expression on his face.
“Those motherfuckers broke into the club.” He looked like a furious king, angry blue eyes blazing wildly as he spoke of revenge and justice. “I’m done playing games with these assholes.”
“We’re with you,” Wheeler agreed with a nod.
“No more fucking around. This time there will be no threats and no second chances. This means war.”
Never had three words scared me down to my soul before.
***
“Are we seriously gonna be the women in the kitchen when shit is going down?” I asked.
After all the commotion at dawn and the anger and threats of bodily harm, Saint and Gunnar and the rest of the guys hopped on their four wheelers and hauled ass over to The Barn Door. More than anything, I wanted to go over there just to see what kind of damage these guys could do, but first Saint and then Gunnar and Slayer had impressed upon me the importance of staying at the main house. With Peaches and Maisie.
And Glock.
Peaches looked at me with one eyebrow arched so dramatically it was hard not to laugh.
“I don’t know about you but I haven’t eaten and there’s a hungry little girl in the living room who’s expecting breakfast. Or brunch, hell some kind of meal and this is it. Gunnar rightly sent Martha and the twin terrors home so it’s just us.”
Just us. That was a novelty for me, being part of a group, no matter how ragtag or how big a misfit the group was, but Peaches had made it crystal clear that the main house was where I belonged.
“So shut the hell up and get to choppin’?”
She laughed with a shrug. “Pretty much. Besides, having something to do will keep you from worrying about whatever it is our boys are getting up to on the other side of the property.”
Our boys.
“Saint isn’t my anything.”
He was my sometimes lover and that was it. Oh and my boss, but that was definitely it. Nothing more.
“Tell that lie to someone else, sister.”
She pointed her knife at me, laughing hysterically like I was the funniest thing since Kevin Hart.
“He’s your boy. Your man. Your lover. And my guess, based on the way his eyes bore into you when he said goodbye, your something more.”
“There is no more to be. I’m screwed up and he’s even more screwed up, that’s a recipe for disaster if there ever was one.”
And I prided myself on being able to see where a relationship was headed so I could get out long before the bitter end. This thing with Saint had an expiration date, we just didn’t know when.
“There’s always more. Gunnar hated my guts, until he didn’t. And now look at us.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hardly the same. Anyway, why are we talking about this? Saint, Gunnar, and all the rest of them are perfectly capable of handling themselves.”
That much I was sure about. The rest was pretty murky. “Any idea what these robberies are all about?”
“My guess is a bunch of shit starters blowing through town. Gunnar is convinced it’s something more.”
Peaches went back to chopping, and I watched her for a long minute, her confident moves around the kitchen seemed to ooze sex appeal. I wondered if she had to practice that or if it came naturally.
“You really think Saint is too screwed up for you?”
Absolutely not. “No, it’s not that. I think we’re too screwed up for each other. We both have issues, and neither of us is rushing to handle them maturely.”
“Or,” she said dramatically until she had my full attention. “Maybe it takes the love of the right person to make you want to be better.”
I snorted. “That’s a nice thought, but I can’t afford to think like that. Last time I did, I lost everything.”
And I had no intentions on doing that ever again, no matter how many promises Saint made.
Peaches gave me a long, slow look, studying me, probably trying to figure out what Saint saw in such a freak. There was no judgement in her eyes, but there was some kind of knowledge that made me uncomfortable.
“Everything is always fucked up Hazel, until it isn’t.”
“Or it just stays fucked up and never changes,” I shot back.
Just because she was in love and everything was right with the world for her, didn’t mean everyone was that lucky.
“Well with that attitude, it definitely will.”
Her lips twitched playfully, and I knew she was fucking with me. “Sorry but that was too damn easy. Seriously though, don’t dismiss Saint because of his PTSD. He came by it honestly, and he’s been seeing Mitch about it recently.”
“Really?” That was news to me, though I didn’t know why I was so surprised. It wasn’t like I was Saint’s real girlfriend and he’d give me his intimate details as pillow talk.
“Good for him.”
“Maybe you had something to do with that.”
Her hopeful expression was adorable and it reminded me of Jessie, but I had to bark out a laugh at the ridiculousness of her words.
“I didn’t. Trust me.” Despite his promises, I knew Saint and I were working on borrowed time. One day soon he’d either fuck it up by lying to me or fucking someone else, or he’d get sick of me and my kinks. Maybe he would just grow apart from me and find someone more suitable. Either way, our thing, whatever it was called had a clock ticking. No matter how much I wished otherwise.
“You are one stubborn ass woman, a trait I normally appreciate, but you are damn frustrating. You two are fucking and practically living together, and the look he gave you before following my man into battle, well shit, even my panties were a little wet. Stop ignoring it, and stop being so fucking afraid.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, were you waiting for me to deny the fear?” I scoffed. “Every time I trusted a person, I ended up regretting it. My best friend Jessie is the only one who’s never let me down.”
“Yeah me, too. Vivi, remember?”
How could I forget. “Look Peaches, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Under normal circumstances I’d be all aboard this crazy ass train, but I can’t. This is a good job with excellent tips that
allows me to put a lot of money away for a rainy day. I can’t afford to get fired when he gets tired of fucking me.”
“So make sure he doesn’t get tired of it.”
It was so simple for her and I envied that.
“It’s not that simple. I have certain…needs that aren’t sustainable in the long run for everyone.”
“Now I’m intrigued but keep it down because Maisie has wandering ears. That little girl can hear a juicy secret from half a mile away.”
The affection I heard in her voice was clear as day, and I hoped she always thought of her man and the little girl that way.
“I’m not giving you details, Peaches. Let’s just say I’m what some might consider high maintenance, and I have a feeling what Saint needs is easy. Uncomplicated.”
She snorted. “Bullshit. If any of these guys wanted the simple life they would have taken their money from the government and opened up a bike shop or some kind of fucking store, not an MC. And definitely not a sex club. This is where you come when you’ve been so immersed in the dirt, in the shit and the muck, that it’s all you’re suited to do.”
That made a twisted kind of sense, but that didn’t mean that Saint and I had a future. And no matter how much my heart twisted and leapt with hope, I refused to give in to that traitorous bitch. Hope. What a fucking joke.
“I appreciate the advice, but maybe you’re just blinded by love.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t make me wrong. Saint jumped on the chance to take you out when Gunnar needed someone to do recon and try to ID these guys, and that’s straight from Gunnar.”
I knew it! Even though my first instinct was to feign outrage, I wasn’t all that surprised that our first and only date had taken place under false pretenses.
“Now that’s the first thing you’ve said that makes any kind of sense. Saint didn’t want to ask me out, he wanted to fuck me and his biker gang homework gave him the perfect pretext.”
“You’re not seriously mad, are you?”
“Nope.” I wasn’t, not really. But this time I was disappointed to be right.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Saint
The club was a fucking wreck. A literal fucking wreck with broken glass everywhere, chairs and stools splintered into thousands of pieces, shrapnel stuck in the carpet and even the walls.