Butcher

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Butcher Page 6

by LeAnn Asher


  “Smile.”

  My head shoots up at his abrupt tone. Butcher leans toward me. “What?” I say breathlessly, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

  “Smile, never stop smiling, and don’t be nervous around me. Never around me.”

  My heart stops at his words, and a huge smile breaks out across my face. I never imagined he could be sweet. His face softens at the sight, and his hand comes up to my jaw, his thumb brushing the side of my mouth. “That’s better.”

  Dude, my stomach flips over. “Did anyone ever tell you that you are a sweetheart?”

  His eyes open wide in surprise. “I’m not sweet,” he grumbles and sits back in his seat, fixing a glare on me.

  Oh yeah, Butcher, I got your number. I arch my eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to everyone else, but you are to me.” I smirk at him and stand up. “I will be back, order for me if she comes back. I need to go to the ladies room.”

  At that I step away from the table and cross the room, leaving him with his thoughts. We are in one of the rooms that people can rent, and it’s kind of secluded. We are the only customers besides a group of men sitting a few booths down.

  A piece of paper falls off the men’s table and hits the ground in front of me. I know they just wanted to see me bend down, so I bend at the knees and squat down, not giving them the satisfaction. I grab the piece of paper and set it down on the table, looking at the man who dropped it. “I don’t fall for shit like that, grow the fuck up.”

  His mouth pops open, and he looks me up and down. “Baby, I could have you bent over this table in a few seconds flat.”

  “Sure, that would be the day, asshole, keep telling yourself that.” I laugh out loud and walk past them. That guy is a total fool. Every single one of those men has “douche bag” written all over him—with their all-too-pretty-boy looks. Pussies—all of them.

  * * *

  Butcher

  * * *

  “I could have you bent over this table in a few seconds flat.”

  Rage hits me hard and fast. I stand up and stalk over to the men, making sure Shaylin goes into the bathroom before I approach them. I spot a steak knife on an empty table and grip it in my hand. The man’s hand is resting on the table on top of the note Shaylin picked up off the floor.

  Nobody fucking disrespects her like that. Ever. That shit doesn’t fucking happen and sure as fuck doesn’t happen in front of me.

  I slam the knife into the table between his fingers, making sure to catch the skin where his fingers meet. The fucker brings his hand back, crying out in pain.

  I roll my eyes at the pussy. His head shoots around, and he looks at me. He and his buddies take me in. Fucking take me in. I’m your fucking nightmare.

  “What’s up, man?” the one who dropped the note and disrespected my woman blubbers.

  “You said you could bend my woman over the table in ten seconds flat?”

  He and the other fuckers pale. “Man, I didn’t know she was with someone,” he stammers, and that makes me even more mad. Who gives a fuck if she was with me or not—that doesn’t give him the right to speak to anyone like that.

  That pisses me off.

  I grip him by the throat and lift him out of the booth. He stands up next to me, his hands on my wrists. I let go of his throat and he starts to back away, but I place my hand on the back of his neck.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  But those are the only words he is getting the fuck out. I slam his face into the table, and I hear the satisfying sound of his nose breaking. “Now who is bent over the fucking table in ten seconds?” I chuckle and press his face harder into the table before letting go.

  He stands up and grabs his nose before sitting down, and his buddies immediately start fussing over him.

  I go back to the table just as the waitress arrives. “The lady will have a honey-glazed salmon topped with citrus avocado salsa, and I will have the eight-ounce steak topped with seared scallops.”

  I hand her both of the menus, and she thanks me and leaves.

  “What did I miss?” Shaylin asks and sits down in the chair in front of me.

  “Nothing, I just ordered the food.” I wink and sit back in my chair.

  She smirks at me like she knows more than I think she does. “Sure you did.” At that I flat out grin. I’m busted.

  * * *

  Shaylin

  * * *

  As I leave the bathroom, my eyes go to the man I called out, and he is sitting there holding his nose. He sees me walking toward him, and he almost crawls under the table.

  Butcher.

  Butcher must have heard what he said to me. I laugh under my breath and return to my table. “What did I miss?” I can’t resist asking.

  “Nothing, I just ordered the food.” He winks and gives me a smug look.

  I give him a sly grin, letting him know that I know that’s far from the truth. “Sure you did,” I say sarcastically and he flat out grins.

  I suck in a sharp breath. Fuck, he is beautiful and dangerous. It should be a crime for someone to look like that.

  According to the MC grapevine, Butcher serves in the Navy SEALs. “Did you always want to be a SEAL?”

  He nods and takes a sip of his beer. “You always want to bake?”

  I laugh and nod. “Yeah, I have loved it for as long as I can remember. I used to stand in a chair to reach the top of the counter to stir all of my ingredients together. It was horrible, but my dad and uncles pretended it was the best thing ever.”

  Butcher smiles at me, his eyes lit up. “I like your baking.”

  I laugh again and sling my hair over my shoulder. “I noticed that, you’ve demolished at least a dozen cupcakes a day since you met me.”

  He shrugs. “Damn good.”

  I nod. “Yeah, because I made them.”

  His shoulders shake with laughter, and I smile wide. I want him to laugh more often. A figure rushes past us, practically running, and I turn around to see who it is. It’s the man whose nose Butcher busted. He keeps glancing back at Butcher, and Butcher drags his steak knife across his throat. That’s all it takes for me to burst out laughing. Butcher drops the steak knife, and it hits the top of the table. That was epic—he’s fucking crazy.

  The waitress comes back with our food. “Here you are.” I wipe under my eyes to get rid of the tears and sit back in my chair so she can set my food on the table. I look at what he ordered, and it’s one of my favorite meals. He is staring at me, gauging my reaction. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

  He looks down and starts cutting into his steak. I grab my silverware and get busy putting away my own food. I am not ashamed to admit that I ate every bit of what was on my plate.

  Once we are finished eating, he pays for the food and we walk, side by side, through the restaurant, his hand on my hip this time. I lick my parched lips and take in deep breaths to contain myself. I like that he is touching me now and he did it without thinking twice.

  “Shaylin?”

  I turn around and see one of the guys I went on one date with. Butcher’s hand tightens on my hip possessively. I wave to the guy and turn away. We went on one date—what did he expect?

  “Too many dicks in here,” Butcher growls. I grin and wrap my arm around his back.

  “Let’s go then.” I lay the back of my head against his chest, looking up at him. Butcher’s glare drops as he looks down at me.

  We walk out of the restaurant and into the darkness of the parking lot. Butcher pulls me tighter into him, like he is shielding me with his body.

  When he opens the door of his truck, I grab the oh-shit handle and lift my leg inside. Hands wrap around my hips, and I am lifted into the truck.

  “Thank you.” I wink at him and he shakes his head at me. When he backs out of the parking lot, I put on my seatbelt and take off my heels, which are hurting my feet.

  He offers me his large tattooed hand and twines his fingers through mine. He lays our joined hands in his lap, and I
turn away, hiding my goofy smile.

  “Feet hurt?”

  “Yeah, I hate heels.” I smooth my hair over one shoulder.

  “You’re just as beautiful without them.”

  My jaw hits the floor again. This man is seriously sweet. “Sweet,” I say simply and he shakes his head again.

  “Speaking the truth.”

  He pulls onto my street.

  “Still sweet,” I drawl.

  “It’s not sweet when you’re being honest.”

  I point at him.“See! Sweet!” I say it loudly this time, and he shakes his head again. I don’t say anything else because he is going to disagree, but we both know the truth here. The truth is he is sweet to me, but we got a visual of how unsweet he was earlier.

  After he pulls into my driveway, without a word, he lifts me out of the truck, holding me bridal style.

  “What are you doing?”

  He shuts the door and carries me up the walkway to my porch. “Your feet hurt.”

  And he says he isn’t sweet.

  Nine

  Shaylin

  We walk inside my house, and he sets me down on the floor. If he were really worried about my feet, he wouldn’t have set me down so soon. I do believe he just wanted to carry me.

  “I am going to change into something comfortable.” I walk into my bedroom, leaving Butcher in the living room. I am assuming he is going to go change too, since he carried a bag in earlier.

  I change into a pair of sweatpants and another baggy shirt that hangs off my shoulder. I throw my hair into a bun and make quick work of ridding myself of my makeup.

  About ten minutes later, I walk into my living room. Butcher is sitting back on my couch, shirtless and in a pair of sweats. Those abs and tattoos! Sweet baby Jesus, give me strength. I feel my face getting hot—I know I am red with embarrassment.

  Growing a set I sit down on the couch. I sit a foot away from him, but what I really want is to be pressed against that hard chest. “What do you want to watch?” I ask hesitantly then switch on the TV.

  “Get your ass over here.”

  I drop the remote and pick it up. “What?” I ask and set the remote on the coffee table in front of us.

  “Over here.”

  I scoot over to him, and I slowly lie down with my head on his chest. The moment I touch his bare chest, I swoon to myself. I’ve got to save some dignity. This is what heaven is.

  His arm comes off the back of the couch and rests on my back with his hand on my hip. Not able to help myself, I bring my hand up his belly, slowly dragging it to his chest.

  I feel him shiver, and I cover my mouth so I don’t make a sound. I like that he is affected by me like I am by him.

  A few minutes into the TV show, he starts to move his hand up and down my back, which is a major weakness of mine. Eventually his hand snakes beneath my shirt to rub my back, his fingernails gliding down my back.

  “Are you trying to make me go to sleep?” I sigh and burrow my head deeper into his chest. With my free hand, I grab my hair tie, letting my hair fall around me.

  His hand sinks into my hair, and he lets his nails drag across my skin. I think I am going to marry him after this. “If you keep on doing that, I am going to fall in love with you.” I yawn again.

  “That’s the plan.”

  I freeze and blink a few times. Did he just say that or did I imagine it? To confirm, I climb off of him and onto my knees facing him.

  “Did you just say that?” I ask in a whisper.

  He nods and smiles. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, hugging him. My cheek lands against his, and I breathe in his intoxicating scent, which is all male. He moves his cheek from mine, and then those lips touch my forehead.

  I sit perfectly still, letting him do whatever he wants. I keep my eyes closed. His lips leave my face, and my stomach clenches in anticipation of what will happen next.

  His lips touch my cheek, and I jump slightly at the contact. I rest my hands on his shoulders.

  His lips touch the corner of my mouth and I scoot closer, wanting them to move that small distance to my lips.

  Then it happens. His lips touch mine, and the moment they do it feels like I have been electrocuted. I gasp and bring my hands to the back of his head, and I twine my fingers through his hair.

  Butcher growls and grabs my hips, pulling me fully into his lap, my legs on either side of him. His large hand moves up my back and then into my hair, taking complete control of the kiss.

  His lips move over mine and I open my mouth, sinking into the kiss. I bring one hand from his hair to his jawbone. I feel his jaw move with his movement on my lips. I shudder and bring my body closer to him. Chest to chest.

  His hand sinks into my hair, and he kisses me back harder. He takes my lip into his mouth, and I open my eyes. He drags his teeth across my bottom lip. “Mine,” he growls loudly, his eyes dark. His hand falls to my ass and—with both hands—he squeezes, pulling me harder against him.

  That’s when I notice how hard he is, and it’s instinctual to rock my hips. That movement has me shuddering with pleasure. I fall forward, bringing my lips back to his, and I move my hips again, moaning against his mouth. He kisses me and pulls me harder against him.

  I want him so bad, I feel like I am burning from the inside out. He stands and I wrap my legs around his waist. As he walks toward the bedroom, I don’t take my mouth from his.

  A second later I feel my bed at my back, and I sink into the mattress. I don’t unhook my legs from Butcher. I feel his arms on either side of my head, and his body is pressed against mine.

  He touches my hip and I moan. It’s so close.

  His mouth breaks from mine, and he looks into my eyes. “What do you want?”

  My chest is moving rapidly because I am out of breath. “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I’ve never been with a man before, I haven’t ever been touched by one before,” I whisper to him, almost ashamed. What twenty-five-year-old girl has never been with a man before?

  Butcher’s face changes, and a large smile comes over his face—it’s utterly breathtaking. I bring my hand up and cup his jaw.

  He smiles wider and looks down at my lips, then at my eyes. I feel his hand move from my hip to my pussy, and it cups me. I jolt at the feel of him touching me, a thrill shooting through my body.

  “Arms above your head.”

  I shiver with excitement and nervousness. I sit up and he sits next to me. I raise my arms above my head. He yanks off my shirt and takes in the sight of me in my bra. He pulls my pants down my legs and throws them across the room.

  I lie back down on the bed, and I scoot back so my head is lying on my pillow.

  Butcher moves back to me, placing his body on top of mine and his face directly above mine. “I will not fuck you today,” he says in his deep, rough voice. His lips kiss mine softly then gradually move to my neck. I arch my neck, giving him better access, and goose bumps break out across my skin.

  “Today.”

  I open my eyes and look at him. He slides his hand behind my back. I feel my bra coming loose, and he lifts it off my arms. He throws it on the floor and gives me a wicked smile that tells me I am going to enjoy every second of this.

  His hand closes around the waistband of my panties, and I clench in anticipation. I lick my lips, wondering what he’s going to do next. “Today…” He tightens his grip on my panties. “Today, I fucking taste every single part of your body, learning what makes you squirm, what makes you yell my name, and what makes you come over and over.” He rips the panties from my body, and they land on the ground.

  Oh my god. Fuck me. I am completely naked in front of him right now. The only times I have been naked is when I am getting waxed or with my doctor.

  My eager eyes follow his every move. He takes in my body, going from my feet to the top of my head. It takes everything in me not to cover myself. I am not self-conscious—it’s just instinctual.

  “You’re gorgeous.”r />
  I melt right there and then, and his face leaves my body and he looks deeply into my eyes.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  “Butcher,” I whisper and sit up and press my lips to his. He is just perfect. He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against mine, and I see him grin. “Now the fun begins.”

  He scoots down my body, his lips moving to my shoulders. He kisses them and moves to the dip in my neck. He dips his tongue in, and I jerk at the feel. My hands go the back of his head, sinking into his hair.

  His mouth moves between my breasts, kissing and licking. Torture—I believe that is what you can call this.

  I take one hand from his hair and drag it down his back, my nails scouring it slightly. I feel his breath on my nipples for a split second before his mouth closes around the left nipple. Pleasure shoots straight down to my pussy. I cry out, and my hand goes back to his hair and instinctively pulls it.

  He chuckles and moves on to the other nipple, and I throw my head back. I pull his hair again. I can’t help it. It gets intense for a split second, and it just happens for the next minute or so, dragging out my torture. I will take this torture any day though.

  His lips leave my breasts and move down to my stomach, closer and closer to my…

  Holy shit! Is he going to do what I think he is?

  My question is answered shortly as he slides off the end of the bed and lands on his knees. His hands wrap around my knees, and I am pulled to the edge of the bed. I laugh at the sudden movement. He takes my knees and lifts them over my shoulders, leaving him facing me there.

  I raise my head and look down at him wide eyed. He smirks at me and then lowers his head. Oh shit. “AHH!” I yell out. His tongue flicks my clit and it’s fucking intense. He does this over and over again.

  My head is thrown back, my back slightly arched, and my hands buried deep in my covers. “Butcher,” I grunt and run my toes down his bare back. I am so close, so close, but I just need something.

 

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