Roosted (Moto X Book 1)

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Roosted (Moto X Book 1) Page 9

by Brooke May


  More power to ya, girly.

  I just won’t be the one tapping your arse tonight.

  My plan is perfectly clear; I’m going to ignore and stay clear of any female attention tonight. I’m not in the mood to even deal with the randomness of a blow job hookup.

  “Yes.” Taking a massive pull of my beer, I turn my attention briefly to the mirror. “Is that what you are wearing?” I tip the new bottle at her, pointing a finger at her slut-wear.

  You know the look girls, women, anyone who has a vagina over a dick gets when they realize what they are wearing? Yeah, the ‘oh, this old thing?’ look. She’s wearing it now. It’s annoying as fucking hell. I’ve seen almost every single piece of this woman’s clothing, and I can guarantee I’ve never seen this top or micro skirt before.

  “Just something I dug out of my closet.” She looks back at me. “Why didn’t you at least put on a nice pair of jeans and top?”

  “Because I don’t give a shit.” Looking back out the window, I watch the city view slowly disappear as we get closer to our destination. “I’m going to drink, not find someone to fuck.” I don’t care if my words are brash; they are the truth.

  “So? You could at least look presentable.” She crosses her arms, trying her best to shove her tiny tits up more.

  “And you seem to confuse me with someone who actually gives a flying fuck.” This is why I can’t be friends with women. They care far too much about what others think of them and their friends.

  “Quit being an asshole, Axle.”

  “And quit being a picky bitch, Megan.”

  Yes, I went there. I did the one thing that pisses off any woman in an instant. By calling her a bitch, I might as well get my death certificate signed now.

  Only if Megan was the vengeful sort, though.

  She’s not.

  Commence the cold shoulder in …

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  She turns away from me, focusing on anything outside her own window while tightening her arms around her and biting her lip to keep from yelling at me.

  Levi and Jax remain silent, wisely not jumping down my throat or putting Megan in her place.

  Why did we bring her again?

  The party is in full swing by the time we arrive. Mega speakers in the back of a couple of trucks amplify the loud music, and the flames of a massive bonfire illuminate the party, making it look as if the party goers are nightmares dancing through some poor cunt’s slumber.

  “Fuck, yes.” Muttering to myself, I climb out of the van and make my way, without my friends, to the alcohol. I may not remember half of the night in the morning, but I know I won’t be getting sick anytime soon.

  I meander, drink, and chat with a few riders I knew from back in the day. Most people who knew me then are wise enough not to bring up the past; the younger riders who know all about me, not so much. My jaw usually sets as I try to keep my temper in check until I tell them to fuck off or just walk away.

  Tonight, everyone is far more interested in getting shitfaced than in talking about what could have been. I know what I could have had; I don’t need a reminder.

  I walk around the fire pit a few times, spotting Megan dancing with a bunch of other slutty dressed women and the men who are watching them and then finally find Levi and Jax. Levi is busy playing tonsil hockey with a legging rainbow hair girl while Jax isn’t doing much but watching them.

  “Nice party, right?” I take a spot, standing next to him, and join him in watching our whore of a friend. Most days, I wouldn’t mind doing the same, but I’m over women at the moment.

  “Yep.” Looking down at my cup, I swirl the liquor in it. “Where’s your boss?”

  “Oh, Jim?” Jax finally looks up at me, breaking his creeper contact with Levi and the woman. “He rarely comes to these things.”

  “Then why have a party?” I down the rest of my drink and quickly look around for something to fill my cup with.

  “He’s been working on a deal with the Bartin twins, and this is his way of celebrating.”

  Curse my friend. He just had to bring up that surname.

  Fucking fantastic.

  “Parker and Paige?” I really need another drink now. “What sort of deal?”

  You may be wondering what kind of hell I enjoy. I’m a masochist. It’s horrible, but I can’t control it. Much like an out of control roller coaster, I’m always on the ride of my life; the highs and the lows.

  “Double X is one of their sponsors, you know?” I nod even though I didn’t know. Shit, I know them financially pretty well. And carnally know Paige to an extent. “Jim and the twins have been working on a program to give underprivileged kids the opportunity to learn to ride.”

  “That’s awesome.” I had my dad teach me, and I taught myself a lot of what I know now. But for other kids, I’m sure a program like that would be amazing.

  “Apparently, a program like that was formed years ago. It was run by the city government, and that’s what gave Parker and then Paige the chance to learn to ride.”

  Really?

  I’m intrigued now; a small look into the life of Paige Bartin. I’m like a fat kid at camp who eats all the sweets before anyone else gets the opportunity. I’m greedy.

  “Really?” Yes, my voice went up an octave like one of my balls was just lopped off.

  Do I care?

  No, no, I don’t.

  Releasing an exacerbated sigh, Jax shakes his head. “Ax—”

  “Dance with me!” An annoying and slightly intoxicated giggle bubbles around us, and I look to find Megan dragging some poor fool out to where everyone else is dancing.

  “It’s more like dry humping, and baby, I’m game for that.” I know that voice and the black leather jacket. You know him too. Parker’s sex-romped hair barely moves as Megan leads him to dance.

  “Whatever you say, handsome.” She’s drunk. Has to be. That’s the only reason she would entertain any idea with a guy like Parker.

  Now, wait a minute.

  You think Parker and I aren’t different, don’t you? We are both man-whores; spend too much time in the company of random women and in their beds. Well, you are right to a point. I do sleep around like him.

  But—and it’s a big but—we are different. I’m not a tool. I don’t pretend to give a shit. Every woman I hook up with, aside from Megan, knows not to expect anything from me after our night together. I’m positive Parker is the bad boy all the girls he hooks up with think they can change or at least think will want more only to find out in the morning what kind of guy he truly is.

  We are different.

  End of story.

  “Well, that’s interesting.” Jax laughs, actually laughs at the poor fool’s mistake.

  “You should just ignore that hot mess.” I zap out of my intoxicated state with the smooth voice I haven’t heard in a few days.

  Chapter Twelve

  The alcohol coursing through my system has dulled my senses to the point I didn’t feel her walk up to me. But it is a lighter shape to my right that draws my attention rather than the darkened one to my left. The pixie, Len, saddles up to sit on Jax’s ever-available lap. She smiles up at me and then turns her full attention to Jax and the longer locks of his brown hair at the nape of his neck.

  I turn back to watch Parker attempt to lift Megan’s skirt, but she bats him away. I’m fully aware of Paige by my side. I’m just not sure if I will be able to speak.

  “Come on.” Paige grabs my hand, nearly yanking my shoulder out as she drags me to the group dancing. Once in the center, she whips around and wraps her arms around me, rolling her body and grinding against my leg to the beat.

  I’m so lost when it comes to her. One minute, she is hot, and the next, cold. I half expect Katy Perry to pop out somewhere to sing about it. Yet, like a moth drawn to the flame, I’m pulled to her.

  I’m also drawn to the train wreck waiting to happen between Megan and Parker. Paige’s palm connects
with my jawline, not in the form of a slap like I’m familiar with, but in a gentle yet forceful way to turn my head back to her.

  “Ignore all that.” The illumination of the fire dances across her face, softening it in some ways, but hiding and giving a rough edge in others; I can’t get a read on her. The other day, she was toned down, almost like the whole girl-next-door vibe, but tonight, her dark makeup and red-stained lips are back in place.

  She’s in the same or similar shorts from the other day but a loose, black Fox racerback, boots, and her hair is down, straight, her bangs creating a dark curtain over her eyes.

  “Are you following me?” I can hear the tease in her sultry voice, but I can’t get anything from her eyes; passive, blank, yet wide, they give nothing away.

  “Jax invited me. I had no clue you would be here.” I pull her closer to me, strangely needing her toned, soft body against my harder one. Something about this woman causes an irrational need to prove I’m a man. As if in some weird way, she is testing my masculinity. “I haven’t heard from you in days.”

  I needed to point it out because, as I just said, I don’t feel overly masculine when it comes to the woman. She tests me, pushes buttons I never had pushed before, and makes me think she is far more masculine than her own brother.

  “Shut up and just dance.” She rocks her hips, rolling her back to make her tits brush against my sternum, causing something to quiver in my chest. “Don’t.”

  “What—”

  “Just don’t. Go with it.” She wraps her arms around my massive shoulders. I’m not completely sure how she is able to do so since she is so much shorter than I am. “Men who try to figure me out don’t last long. I find you interesting, so let’s not fuck with it, okay?”

  I have so many questions I want her to answer, but none of them are in the forefront of my mind as all my blood flows straight to below the elastic of my shorts.

  I begin to drift, losing myself in the rhythm set by the dark goddess wrapped around me. My shorts do nothing to mask my straining erection, and I don’t care what she wants to do with it or how she will take it.

  “Aaaaaaxxxxxllllleeeee.” If ever there were someone to stretch out my name to the point I don’t even like what my parents named me, it would be when Megan is shitfaced and vying for my attention. I feel a tug on one of my wrists, the one attached to the arm firmly wrapped around Paige’s back and the hand to it grabbing a handful of her fantastic arse.

  I pull my wrist free of her flimsy grip and ball my fist to my side. My other wraps completely around Paige’s back, anchoring her side to me as Megan stumbles backward.

  “Axle, let’s go. I’s tired.” She slurs, wobbling back and forth on her heels.

  “No.”

  Are you surprised that the answer did not come out of my mouth? I certainly am. I was just about to tell Megan no when Paige beat me to it.

  “No?” Megan is just as confused as I am amused. See the shit-eating grin I know I’m wearing?

  This is going to be great.

  “You heard me, little girl.” Paige takes a step away from me. It’s a menacing step; the precursor to her attack, like the rattle of a rattlesnake’s tail before it strikes. “Go find some little boy who can entertain you or give you a fucking ride home. Your kind isn’t welcome here.”

  The way Paige says ‘your kind’ makes it sound like someone stepping in dog shit.

  Megan gapes like a fish out of water. She looks around for someone to back her up and finally settles on Parker, who is laughing. The man has to be smarter than he looks if he isn’t about to go toe to toe with his sister.

  “Sorry, babe, you’re on your own.” Parker doesn’t even wait for her response or to see if she will just come to him. He turns, finding a flock of flimsily clad bimbos, and takes his leave.

  Paige turns back to me at the same time Megan does. “Let’s go.” My hand is given willingly as Paige walks off, taking me with her.

  I’m the sailor following the siren’s song as Paige leads me away from the consortium of dancing bodies until we reach a daunting silhouette of an old oak tree. The light from the fire barely kisses the ground where we stand.

  “Come here.” The gentle tone of her voice shakes me, urging me forward into the unknown from just the simple command. There is one thing I’ve grown to love about living in Utah. Much like parts of Australia, the sky takes on an almost otherworldly landscape at night. The dark blues fading into blacks make a magical backdrop to the billions of stars shining overhead.

  But nothing, nothing compares to the addiction of Paige into this celestial vision before me. The fabric of her shirt lifts and is pulled over her head, her dark tresses of hair cascading from the shirt before she discards it in the soft dirt and walks to me.

  In this lighting, I can’t see her eyes; I can barely make out her face as she lifts to her toes and presses her lips against mine.

  “Axle.” The simple way she rolls my name off her lips is enough to drive me over the edge.

  “Yes?” I lick mine, trying and straining to look down at her glorious curves; my hands roam over, down, and under what my eyes cannot see. Effortlessly, I lift her against my heaving chest.

  Paige’s strong legs rise and settle on my hips, locking her ankles behind my back. Thank fuck I wore what I did. With her holding on tightly, I lower us to the ground, my arse sinking into the soft as silk dirt as we kiss.

  Our tongues lap and roll in a perfect tempo. My heart beats wildly in my chest, and as I run my palm up and over the lacy cup of her bra, I feel Paige’s heart mimicking mine.

  “Fuck me, Axle.” She pulls back, the soft glow of the flames reaching her eyes enough to cast a candle light across her face. Her soft plea is disarming, but one I will gladly oblige. Rising enough to get my knees under me, I reach with one hand for my wallet in my shorts to pull out a condom and lay her on the ground. Her legs and arms release me as she falls backward, lounging on the dirt while I pull my shirt over my head and cast it away just as she did.

  My hands blindly find the waist of her barely there shorts. I work the button free and pull them down her legs aching slow. She hisses through her teeth when her shorts are gone. I run my knuckles up her legs, to the inside of her thigh, and then to her wet and waiting pussy.

  “Nothing?” My brow furrows. With as many women as I’ve been with, rarely do I find one who goes without underwear.

  “Too … restricting.” The light pink of her tongue darts out to lick her top lip. I raise her legs, brushing my rough jaw along the inside of each, but pull away to repeat the same action with the other. My nose runs along the seam of her pussy. I take in the musky, salty scent of her arousal, which make me hungry. My mouth salivates with the need to taste her.

  Her back arches, giving my hand the perfect opportunity to slip under her and rest on the top of her arse. When her back settles, her hips thrust up to my face as if she knew I was about to get my first taste of her. My tongue darts out, letting my tongue run the length of her, starting at the top just from the power of her thrust.

  “Fuck.” I breathe. She tastes amazing. Her slick arousal wets my tongue farther as I lap at her.

  “Oh!” With my free hand, I tweak her pierced nipple and then blindly find the other before she shoves it down her body. Removing my hand from under her, I wrap my massive hands around her hips and lift her lower body to give me better access to eat her pussy.

  I don’t gently nip at her; my teeth latch onto her pierced clit and rub it violently with my tongue as I suck on it hard. Paige’s fingers bite into my scalp, digging and gripping me. She doesn’t try to move my head; I know what I’m doing. I don’t need the direction.

  “Fuck me, Axle. Fuck me!” She rocks against my face, my tongue spearing into her tight pussy as I rub my nose against her clit. Her body jerks as heavy panting and cries of pleasure scream through her body. “Fuck!” My hands fumble to keep hold of her hips as she slams her wet pussy in my face while I fuck her the best way I know ho
w with my tongue.

  I flatten my tongue over her clit, wiggling my piercing against her own and suck hard once more.

  “No!” she screams as her legs come up to my shoulders to push me away from her. I fall back, wide-eyed and perplexed at her sudden change.

  Her tits sway with her panting, the fire light casting an erotic glow over her tanned and tatted skin. She gets to her knees and comes to me, straddling my lap and licking her arousal off my face. “I said fuck me,” she orders, and damn if I don’t want to just fall into line as she straddles me.

  Her pussy rolls in a circle around my dick before her entrance hovers right above my head.

  “Fuck me now, Axle.” She slams her tight pussy down on my lap, taking in every. Single. Inch. Of. Me. Both of our heads fall back on matching groans as she stretches and takes me in. “Fuck, you’re huge.”

  “You’re perfect.” My breath whispers across her chest, her nipples pebbled with her rings in the wake of my touch. I lick each in turn and end by gently biting down on them.

  She laughs a low chuckle I can feel in my balls. “Not even close.” She rolls her hips, making sure I hit every part of her. Red nails scratch up my back, and her hands cup my face, the pads of her thumbs rubbing against my bottom lip. “Let’s see if the rest of you is as good as this fucking amazing mouth, shall we?” She slaps me—hard—and it does something to me I never thought would happen.

  I groan.

  I fucking moan.

  And I let her take control. She rides my dick like it was made specially for her, her clit rubbing against my shaft, earning my view of that perfect O she forms with her mouth. Her tits scrape against my massive chest; I can feel the hard points at every spot.

  I watch her as she uses me to get herself off and in turns gets me jacked up.

  “Hold on,” I command against her neck, leaving a bite and a gentle kiss as I stand, fall back against the tree, and thrust roughly up into her.

  “Oh!” Her head falls back as she lets me take over and fuck her tight pussy. The tips of her hair come to her arse, waving and bouncing in the air as I own her. “Oh! Oh! Ooooooohhhhh!” she cries, lazily lifting her head and wrapping her arms back around my neck to secure us further.

 

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