WOLF: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 4)

by Nicole James

  “What if you are?”

  Wolf swallowed.

  “That scares you, doesn’t it? Being what she needs?”

  When Wolf stayed silent, Crash shook his head in aggravation, got up and walked away.

  Red Dog strolled over, a beer in his hand. He stood and looked down at Wolf. “He rub your head and tell you everything’s gonna be all right?”

  “This pep talk sucks.”

  “Yeah, he was voted most likely to depress people.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Wolf stood up and stalked toward the door with Dog’s laughter following him out.

  He shoved through the crowd. Ten feet from the door he slammed right into a member of the Death Heads MC, pushing him back into the two brothers behind him as they walked in the bar. For one of those split seconds that lasts a lifetime, Wolf and the Death Head stared with stunned surprise into each other’s eyes. There was no love lost between the two clubs, in fact they were sworn enemies, and that animosity was plain in both their eyes as they glared their bitter hatred back at each other. Then the Death Head members at the man’s back shoved him forward, and he came up swinging, hitting Wolf with a powerful right hook.

  Wolf returned the punch causing the Death Head to stumble back. Screams erupted in the bar as patrons scattered back. The next thing Wolf knew, all his Evil Dead brothers had pushed through the crowd and were taking his back, fists flying. It was seven to three and the brawl ended with the three Death Heads lying on the floor.

  “Move!” Cole jerked his chin toward the door, and his club cleared out, pushing through the door and out into the street, knowing they only had minutes to get the hell out of there before the cops arrived and hauled every single one of them in.

  The men scrambled to their bikes, and a moment later seven bikes roared off down the street.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The old wrought iron bed squeaked as Crystal rolled over to look toward the front window. The rumbling sounds of motorcycles passing below echoed up from the street. It was past midnight, but the sound didn’t bother her. She couldn’t sleep anyway. Not when her mind was consumed with reliving her encounter with Wolf earlier. Every moment playing out over and over in her head like an endless parade of images. The look in his eyes when he first saw her, the way he held her when they danced, the way he kissed her in the hallway, the way he looked at her as she left.

  She was startled out of her thoughts by a knocking. Rolling over, she looked through the open bedroom doorway into the main room and toward the backdoor.

  Who could that be? Jameson perhaps, come to ask her about whatever Max and Liam had probably told him. Tossing back the covers, she strode toward the door. The top half contained a window covered with a red gingham kitchen-style curtain. She paused, pulling it aside to peer out.

  It was dark, but she could make out the tall shape of a man. A man wearing a leather cut. His arms were lifted, his hands bracing on either side of the door frame. His head was dipped, but it lifted when the curtain moved, and his eyes connected with hers through the glass.

  Wolf.

  She unlocked the door and opened it just three inches. But that didn’t stop him. He pushed it open and stepped inside, forcing her to step back. She watched his eyes as they swept down over her, taking in the flannel shirt wrapped around her. His shirt.

  His eyes flicked back up to hers, and she could read the thoughts running through his head. He knew in an instant just what her wearing his shirt to bed meant, everything it revealed about how she felt about him. As she watched, his eyes moved over her body again, sweeping down over her bare legs, exposed by the shirt that only fell to her mid-thigh.

  The door clicked softly as he pressed it shut, his eyes still on her legs.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging against the chill night air that had swept in with him. “What are you doing here, Wolf?”

  His hand lifted, and he brushed the back of his index finger over the soft flannel fabric just above her breast. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

  She looked away. She could hardly deny it. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  She swallowed, but didn’t answer.

  “Your question, my question. I’m betting they both have the same answer.”

  She looked back at him then. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and it felt hard to breathe. He took a step toward her, and she took a step back. “Wolf.”

  He took another step. “Crystal.”

  She stepped back again, and he followed, like he always did, stalking her across the room until she felt the cool plaster of the wall next to her bedroom door pressed to her back.

  “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “Wolf.”

  He moved in closer, his face inches from hers and repeated his soft words. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  It was then she noticed the bruising on the side of his face. Her hand came up, her fingers gently touching his cheekbone. “Wolf, you’re hurt. What happened?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m fine.” He moved in again.

  She lifted her hand and pressed her palm to his chest, his cut cool beneath her fingers as she attempted to hold him back. “We need to talk.”

  “We do. But not now.” His hands moved between them, his fingers closing around the plackets of the flannel shirt. With a hard tug he popped all the buttons free, sending them scattering on the floor as she gasped, excitement and erotic fear taking her breath.

  The shirt fell open, revealing her bare skin all the way down to her panties. His eyes moved over her, taking in everything, every inch.

  She watched his eyes lift and move beyond her to land on the bed visible through the doorway. Then he bent and lifted her, his arms locking around her bare thighs. He gave a little toss, hefting her up, and her legs wrapped around his waist. She clutched at his shoulders, gasping in her surprise as the shirt fell back off her shoulders to hang from her elbows

  He carried her into the bedroom, and a moment later she felt her back pressed to the soft sheets still warm from her body.

  “Wolf.”

  His mouth came down on hers, silencing any protest she might have made. His tongue swept inside as his hands captured her head, cradling it while he kissed her, long and deep. Her hands moved to slide around him of their own volition, stroking over the patches on his cut, moving up to thread through the soft curls at the back of his neck.

  She heard his groan, felt it vibrate through her mouth as he sank more deeply onto her, one knee forcing her thighs apart, making room for his body to settle between them.

  His mouth broke free, trailing across her jaw and down her neck. She tilted her head back, giving him better access, and his mouth latched onto the skin below her jawbone, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. And maybe that was his intension. Marking her as his.

  She moaned, and his body slid lower, his mouth trailing down over her collarbone, down her breast bone, and then to climb the soft mound of her breast to latch onto her nipple. As he sucked on it, his fingers closed over her other nipple, pinching and twisting. The dual sensations sending a white-hot jolt straight between her legs.

  She writhed, attempting to find some relief by rubbing against him. He didn’t leave her hanging, he knew what she needed and his free hand moved to give it to her, his fingers sinking into her slick folds, stroking softly. He didn’t let up tormenting her nipples as he caressed with deep, slow strokes.

  “Wolf,” she panted, her fingers sinking into his hair, holding his head to her breast. It wasn’t long before the multiple sensations coming at her from every place he touched unraveled her and she began to thrust up into his hand, meeting every stroke, drawing them out.

  As her responses increased and her need ramped up, he slid two fingers inside her, his thumb taking up where his fingers had been. And now, as the points of stimulation increased by yet another, she arched, her head going back in the mattress, a long moan escaping as the orgasm roared through her.

  And then h
e slid down, positioning between her legs. Her head lifted to look down at him. She’d barely recovered, and he was preparing to start again.

  “Wolf, I can’t—” she panted.

  He just smiled at her, her words not stopping him in the least.

  The scent of her arousal now hung heavy in the air.

  With one soft nuzzle of his mouth, he breached and invaded her soft petals, dazzling her senses as he slid his tongue inside and electrified everything he touched. A languorous sweep, a lingering slide. His lips brushed her again and again, and Crystal opened to him a little more. He sank in, deeper than before. He tasted, teased, withdrew. No! She needed more, and pressed up,

  Wolf rewarded her with another teasing caress of his lips, which melted over her and then his tongue was diving inside in a firm and wild possession. She may have half expected it, but the slide of his tongue still blindsided her defenses.

  She clawed at him. Barely breathing, dizzy with the sensation, she writhed as heat curled in her belly, her nipples tightening.

  Suddenly, he retreated, leaving behind an ache she already couldn’t fight. Oh, God.

  “Please,” she begged, all shame gone.

  “You want something, sweetheart?”

  God, she’d missed him. She just wanted to feel him inside her, feel his weight on her as he lost control.

  “You. Now. Please, baby.”

  He didn’t deny her, but slid up over her, his body coming down on her as he brushed the hair back from her damp forehead.

  He kissed her then, and she tasted herself on him. He ate at her mouth and she could feel the erection through his jeans. And then she realized he was still dressed. Her hands were suddenly frantic to get his clothes off, sliding up to push his cut off his shoulders.

  A moment later, he was off the bed. He stood next to it, staring down at her with hungry eyes as he tore his clothes off. She watched, her eyes moving over his body as he bared it to her. His broad shoulders, muscular arms and chest, his flat abs. Her tongue came out to lick her lips in anticipation.

  His eyes fell to her mouth and a second later he was back on top of her. Taking his cock in his hand, he rubbed his hard length against her entrance. It didn’t take long for his cock to be coated in her slick release.

  He stared down at her. “I hated the way you left me at that damn motel.”

  She knew then that he was talking about the motel at the state-line when they’d had their confrontation. Where she’d pleaded with him to let her go. Where she’d seen the torment in his eyes as he’d done just that.

  “I hated it too,” she said as she writhed against him, struggling to guide him into her. He gripped her wrists over her head, pinning her on the bed.

  Breathing hard, her back arched as she tried to mold her body to his.

  He pulled back to look her in the eyes. His voice was ragged. “You drive me crazy, girl. And right now I’m going to fuck you hard. Like I need to punish you for that. For leaving me like that. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Crystal.”

  He studied her eyes.

  “You gonna let me? You gonna take it like that? Like I need to give it to you?”

  Looking up at the lust in his eyes, she nodded. She’d give him anything he needed. Maybe that was her downfall. He held that much power over her. Her love for him held that much power over her. It was so big, she could refuse him nothing.

  At her acquiescence, he moved back off her. Grabbing her wrists he hauled her off the bed. Then he spun her around and with a firm hand in her back, he pushed her down, face-first on the bed.

  He bent over her body, his chest coming down over her back as he rubbed his hard length against her entrance.

  “Ask for it,” he growled.

  She didn’t hesitate. “Fuck me, Wolf.”

  He plunged inside her, bringing her up on her toes, as far up as the hard body over her would allow. She felt him lock one muscular forearm across her pelvis. His other hand came down on the mattress near where her face was turned sideways, his stiff arm holding his weight as he thrust into her again and again, his skin slapping against hers.

  She was still slick from her orgasm, but it had been a long time since she’d had sex. Since him, actually. And she was tight, and she knew she’d feel the aching inside tomorrow after he finished with her.

  She moaned and his thrusts immediately slacked off, as he reined in his assault.

  “You okay?” he panted.

  She nodded her head against the mattress.

  “It’s too much, you tell me,” he ordered, his pace picking up again.

  “Make me come, Wolf,” she pleaded. A moment later the arm locked around her hips disappeared and his hand went between her legs. His fingers stroking, seeking out her trigger. It didn’t take him long to bring her to the edge again. And when he did, she began moving against him, pushing back against every driving thrust.

  “Find it, Crystal. I need you to find it, because I’m about to explode.”

  He increased the frantic petting of his fingers and she soared over the edge, crying out his name.

  A moment later he followed her over, his hands moving to clutch her hips tightly as his body went solid.

  ****

  “Come here, babe. I want to cuddle with you.”

  Crystal turned her head on the pillow to look at Wolf. Her brows rose, clearly expressing her disbelief. “You hate cuddling.”

  “I do not. I love to cuddle.”

  She smiled and rolled her eyes. He was so full of shit, and she felt the need to remind him. “Remember that first night we slept together?”

  “Of course.”

  She gave him an arch look. “Remember the next morning?”

  He grinned. She’d obviously reminded him of just how clear he’d been that morning about hating cuddling. “You mean when you taught me the meaning of the word negotiate?”

  She smiled back at him, remembering clearly how she’d brought him around on that one…

  “I don’t do cuddling, babe,” he said as he pulled out of her arms and stood. He yanked his jeans on and left the room, muttering, “You got any coffee?”

  Throwing a robe on, she went in search of him. She found him at her kitchen sink, his palms resting on the edge, looking out the window. Walking up behind him, she slid her arms around his waist, her mouth pressing kisses between his shoulder blades. “Is it just cuddling you don’t like, or all touching? Cause I know you like the sex.”

  “I don’t do ‘cuddling’, babe. I told you that.”

  She kissed his back again. “Is that non-negotiable?”

  “Pretty much.”

  She pulled away, went to the fridge and opened the door. “That’s gotta give you problems with the ladies, Wolf.”

  He turned and leaned back against the sink. “What do you mean?”

  She pulled a carton of orange juice out of the shelf in the door. “I mean, that’s a big thing for a woman. And telling a woman there’s no cuddling. Ever. Baby, that’s like telling a man, no blow jobs. Ever. Like that’d fly. Not with any guys I’ve ever met. Hell, Jason would have been done with me the first night.”

  He folded his arms. “Really?”

  “That boy liked his dick sucked. And I mean all the time. Two, three times a day, if he could get it.” She waggled her eyebrows and smiled, then took a drink right out of the carton.

  “Guess he was a lucky man, then. Not all girls are willin’ to suck a man’s dick, babe.”

  She looked at him frowning and put the carton back. “Honey, you’re spending time with the wrong women, then.”

  He huffed out a laugh and had to agree, “Maybe so, darlin’. Maybe so.”

  “Well, that just breaks my heart.”

  “Shut up and come here and kiss me.”

  She held her ground and smiled. “Cuddling is important to me, Wolf. How important are blow jobs to you?”

  “Babe, you serious?” His arms came uncrossed.

  She crossed her arms and moved
her head from side to side. “Um hmm. Guess we’ll see who lasts the longest.”

  “Babe.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “You’re really bein’ serious?”

  “Yes, I’m bein’ serious.”

  He shook his head and huffed out a breath. “Fine. I give.”

  “Hey, I’m not twisting your arm here,” she pointed out.

  He grunted out a laugh and grinned. “You’re twistin’ more than my arm, babe. And we both know it.”

  She smiled.

  He grinned. “Come here, and we’ll negotiate.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  They stared at each other, both reliving the memory and grinning.

  She had to admit, it was a sweet memory. Especially the sex and cuddling that negotiation had led to when she dragged him back to the bedroom.

  Wolf twisted toward her, his elbow in the pillow, his head resting in his hand, and with his free hand he lifted Crystal’s, his eyes admiring the new tattoo around her wrist. It had been hidden from him earlier by the long sleeves she’d worn. “Pretty work. He do that?”

  Her eyes fell to where he held her hand, and she knew he was referring to Jameson.

  “Yes.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth to press a soft kiss to her inner wrist. “It hurt to let you go, Crystal.”

  Her eyes lifted to meet his eyes.

  He went on. “Every time I’d hear someone say your name, I’d feel the sting.”

  “I thought maybe you’d forget about me,” she whispered.

  “Impossible. Way you make me feel, it’d take a fool to forget.”

  “How do I make you feel?”

  “Like you’re the only one who gets me. Understands me. Been that way since the beginning. I remember the first time I saw you.” He rubbed his thumb absently over her scar, his eyes staring off into space, lost in the memory. “Damn, baby, you knocked me off my feet.”

  She frowned. “When I was down on my knees picking up that broken glass?”