Needing Me, Wanting You

by C. M. Stunich

  Beck sits back with a sigh of relief, putting his hands on the curve of my waist.

  “That was a fucking close one,” he says, sweat pooling on his upper lip. He flicks it away with his tongue. “How the fuck did they find us anyway?” he wonders aloud. I make a noise under the gag, but Beck just chuckles. “Can't remove that yet, Miss Emilie. I'm sorry about that, but you've got a vested interest in the enemy.” I make a grunting noise that clearly tells him to fuck off. How stupid does he think I am? I don't want them to find me yet. I need to talk to Darren, see if he can find out anything about the shooter. That, and Beck needs more time to think. If we can work this out so that neither club is to blame, then when it comes time for the switch, maybe we can arrange it so that nobody gets hurt. It's a long shot, but I have to try. I have to. “Obviously, I let my guard down a bit. Can't let that shit happen again.” Beck scratches at the back of his head. When his eyes come back to mine, trailing down my face and focusing on my lips, I find it hard to swallow. Or maybe it's just the gag in my mouth. “You, missy, are a distraction.” I pull hard on his neck, but he doesn't budge. Beck Evans is like a rock.

  His hands move down my body, cupping my ass, sliding forward and touching the bare skin on my thighs. Almost unconsciously, I drop my legs from around his waist and open wider. Beck licks his lips, eyes darting back towards the highway. The sound of the motorcycles is a distant roar now. I don't think they know we're here, and by the time they figure out we're not in front of them and circle back, it'll be too late. There are a million side roads to nowhere out here.

  “You damn near got me killed,” Beck says, dropping his fingers to the fabric of the boxers and then sliding them down until he touches the bare skin of my inner thighs. I moan and arc my hips, naturally moving towards him and the growing bulge in his pants. The lust I feel for this man is like an unstoppable force. It's scaring the crap out of me, to be honest. But what am I going to do? I've never felt anything like this in my whole life, and I don't know how to fight it. “Damn near got me killed,” he repeats, unzipping his pants and freeing his cock. It springs forward like it's got a mind of its own, straining for me, desperate to be inside. I close my eyes so tight they hurt and then open them again, finding Beck's dark gaze in the moonlight. His face is covered in shadow, carving out spots where his cheekbones are, his eyes, his lips. It's a little eerie, but in a sexy, mysterious sort of way.

  Beck pulls me forward with one hand on my ass, leaving the handcuffs hooked around his neck, the gag still in my mouth, and then he guides his cock to the fly on the boxers, moving aside the fabric and brushing the head of it against my swollen heat. My eyes flutter and my heart quickens as I open wider and welcome him in again, taking the entire length of his shaft in one stroke. I'm still soaking wet from our half-session on the bed.

  “Goddamn it,” Beck whispers roughly, letting me rock my hips into him, setting the rhythm at slow and sensual. The gag doesn't stop me from moaning, but no actual words come out, just desperate sounds and soft cries. The angle we're at is almost painful, letting him delve all the way inside of me, filling me up and splitting me open. He's so thick it almost hurts, makes me wish I could open my legs even wider. One of his hands stays firmly cupped on my ass; the other makes its way up my shirt, feeling my breast with calloused fingers, massaging my nipple with nearly painful pressure.

  I cry out and the gag fills my mouth, the fabric heavy with saliva. I want it gone, and I want it gone now, but I have no way of telling Beck that, so I get angry again. My hips rock harder as he stares down at me, mouth slightly parted, groans slipping from his throat unashamedly. I move as fast as I can, my stomach muscles cramping in protest as I gyrate my hips forward, letting my head fall back while the cuffs keep me upright. Warm night air kisses my skin as Beck lifts my shirt, dropping his head to my tits, tasting my nipple with his hot breath. His teeth graze the sensitive pink skin, rolling it around in his mouth as his hand tightens on my ass, fingers digging into the fabric of the boxer shorts.

  “Make me come, Tease. Do it. Show me what you got.” I keep moving my hips, letting my entire upper body relax back, hair hanging in a red curtain past my shoulders. I match the rhythm of my movement to Beck's grunts, feeling a surge of excitement when he starts to move against me. “Milk me like a motherfuckin' cow, baby,” he drawls. “Draw it all out of me.” I kick up my pace as his mouth moves between my breasts and then up, pushing the shirt out of the way so he can lick my collarbone and kiss the hollow of my throat.

  When he stops, I almost go crazy. My head snaps up and I glare at him as he pulls out of me with a slight smirk and a chuckle. His hand moves down to his shaft and starts stroking, moving slow at first and then quicker until he's groaning and coming all over my chest. My breasts are heaving and my body is in absolute complete and utter turmoil. I speak against the gag, but nothing audible comes out.

  “You're done, too?” Beck asks with another laugh and a shake of his head. “Good thing, too, because we need to get the hell out of here.” I squeeze my legs together, trapping him between my thighs, but he still doesn't make any move to keep touching me. Instead, he reaches up and removes my arms from around his neck, pushing me off of him and standing up in the knee-high grass around us. I mouth some curses against my gag, but Beck ignores me, zipping up his pants and then glancing back over at the road.

  I pull my shirt down awkwardly, the cuffs jangling loudly in the country air.

  “Just a minute there, sweet thing. I'm trying to think up the best plan here. Don't want to start up my bike and draw any unwanted attention.” Beck licks his lips and then moves over to the darkened house behind us, leaving me alone on his motorcycle. I swing my leg over and stumble off, moving after him with angry steps. He peers into the windows of the house and takes a step back, just as I slam him in the back with both fists, reaching up and grabbing the gag from my mouth.

  “Fuck you,” I snarl, right before he spins around, grabs me around the waist and pulls me close to him. Our bodies are pressed tightly together, his arms strong and solid around me. It's an interesting sensation, different than the sex but still exciting, still enough to make my heart pound. “That was just downright rude,” I tell him, feeling his seed on my chest, wishing I could wipe it off and slap him. Wishing that I didn't like it. This is not the Tease I know, I tell myself. What is wrong with you? Get ahold of yourself and remember why you're here: he kidnapped you. And now you have a responsibility to your club to limit the damage done on this end.

  Beck grins at me, nice and wide.

  “I wasn't done, sugar love. I just wanted to make sure the house was empty before I did this.” Beck scoops me up in his arms again, moving us back over to the bike and sitting me in the grass next to it. “Thought it might be weird if somebody were to walk out on us.” Beck kisses my mouth hard and then pushes me back into the grass. “But the house is vacant. Your lucky day.”

  “Are you going to take off the handcuffs?” I ask him as he kneels down, making me wonder where this is going. I have an idea, but I've never gone that route before, so I don't know what to expect. Beck leans over me, still smiling. A few minutes ago, he was running for his life. You'd never know it now by just looking at him. I guess he really does believe in his live in the moment motto.

  “I can't, baby doll. I'm sorry. What happens if they come back and I have to make another run for it? I like you, but I also don't know that I could trust you to cooperate.” Beck grabs at the waistband on the boxers as I lay there with green surrounding me on all sides, a wall of foliage blocking out the highway and the occasional car.

  “But you're still willing to take a break here and have sex with me?” I wonder as he strips the boxers down and puts them aside. The questions disintegrates in an instant as Beck grabs my legs and pushes my knees back, dropping his head and pressing a quick kiss to my inner thigh.

  “Like I said, you damn near got me killed. I barely have a lick of sense when it comes to you.”

  �
��So, handcuffs then?” I ask, jingling the metal around, pretending my face isn't flushed and my hands aren't shaking. I've never had anyone go down on me before. It's just not something that teenage boys are generally interested in. At least neither of the ones I dated were. I can almost forgive Beck for … coming on me.

  He laughs at me again and settles himself in, relaxing down there like this isn't an intimate experience for me. My eyes stare up at the branches of a tree and a dark wash of sky, peppered with silver stars. As soon as he starts to kiss down my leg, I stop him, squeezing my thighs together against his head.

  “You alright?” he asks, drawing back and looking at me, at my pursed lips, my red cheeks. “Something wrong?” Beck's voice changes, gets deeper. There's an intense focus in him as he raises up to his elbows and lets his eyes roam the space around us.

  “I'm sorry. I don't think I can do this.”

  “You can't do what, Tease?” he asks, sounding genuinely baffled. I struggle to sit up without the use of my hands. Beck ends up wrapping his fingers around the chain of the cuffs and pulling me forward. Immediately I put my hands between my legs, cutting off his view.

  “This. Oral sex. I don't … know you. I'm sorry, but I can't do this.” One of his red brows raises up, but he doesn't say anything. I sigh and slump forward, my body still tight and desperate for release but also tired. I'm bordering on exhaustion at this point. “Can we go now?”

  “Well, we're staying here tonight, Tease. This is going to be our bed.” Beck slaps at the grass with the palm of his hand. “But if you don't want any lovin', I ain't gonna force you.” I swallow hard and try to figure out why I'm being such a baby about this. I let him put his dick inside of me, but I'm having trouble imagining him putting his face down there. It doesn't make any sense. Lizzie would say I'm sexually confused, that all the time I've spent with Seventy-seven Brothers has warped my views on relationships and physical expression. She was a firm, firm believer that the club was no good for women. I see all her points, and sitting here right now, I guess she was right in a way. But the MC is home, family. We'd all die for each other. We all have each other's backs. Not many people have that kind of support. But then I think of the Mamas, the women that work in the clubhouse cleaning and cooking alongside the prospects, bringing in money on the side, keeping the boys entertained. And getting almost nothing in return for it. What kind of life is that?

  I want to belong, but maybe that's not the right place for me. I'm not judging others, but for me … I blink away the thoughts and focus on Beck. He's examining me now, giving me a strange look.

  “Think you can get it up again?” I ask, trying to turn his attention away from my refusal and onto something else. Beck grins big and wide, moving up against me until our hips are matched, hands pressed into the ground on either side of my face.

  “You kiddin' me? I was just trying to do you a favor. If this is what you want instead, I'm game.” I hook my arms back around his neck, spreading my legs open and welcoming the hard press of Beck's cock inside his denim jeans. He nuzzles my neck, almost affectionately, and presses a few searing kisses against my throat. “Maybe I can use the next couple o' days to work you up to it. What do you say? I can't let you leave without tasting all of my special Beck bullshit.”

  “I'm not sure how to respond to that,” I tell him as he reaches down and unzips his jeans, moving to find my opening again. We just keep fucking and fucking. I don't know what it is between us. I don't think I even did it this much with my high school boyfriends.

  “Just say you'll think about it. As my captive, you owe me that much at least, don't you?” His chuckle turns into a groan as I arch my hips up, sliding against his body. “Alright, alright, Miss Hathorne. Hold your horses. I got your back, baby.” Beck settles himself on top of me, kissing my mouth, tangling his fingers in my hair. I return the favor, managing to stroke my fingers through the silky red even with my wrists bound tight. My tongue meets his, sliding slick inside his hot mouth. His kisses feel so real, like there's something more behind them than just sex. I know it isn't true, but the fact that he can make me feel this way confirms what I already knew. Men kiss differently than boys. Boys slather your mouth with saliva; men capture your soul.

  Smooth as a damn criminal, Beck thrusts inside of me again, merging his warm body with mine. The sensation of his naked cock inside of me turns my insides to jelly and my brain to mush. The difference between a condom and bare flesh is subtle, but powerful. I feel like there's an unbroken current circulating between our bodies, speeding my heart, quickening my breath. When he starts pounding me into the dirt and the overgrown grass, I'm already halfway there. My body goes numb and my eyes roll back, lashes fluttering as I let myself sink into the ground, melding with Beck's hard muscles. My legs go around him, ankles locking against his ass.

  “Come for me, baby. 'S your turn now.” Beck bites down on my lower lip, grinding into me, pushing me off the precipice and over the edge. When I fall, the pleasure coiling at the base of my spine explodes and my voice rings out through the emptiness all around us.

  Tease

  Chapter 15

  When I wake up, face pressed into the dirt, body so sore I can hardly move, the cuffs are gone and there's a T-shirt draped over my bare butt. I groan as I struggle to sit up, clutching the fabric tight. Not that it should matter. Beck's seen it all now. Still, it doesn't seem right. A flurried frenzy of locking bodies is different than just being comfortably naked around someone, isn't it?

  “What time is it?” I ask, blinking at the dappled sunshine streaming through the leaves of the tree above me. I rub at my eyes and then run both hands down my face. I've lived in the same house for eighteen years. Other than the clubhouse, and a sparse few vacations in my younger years, I haven't slept anywhere but in my own bed. Waking up on the ground outside of an abandoned farmhouse is beyond strange.

  Beck takes another drag on his cigarette and turns to face me, perched on the seat of his motorcycle. There's a massive grin plastered across his lips as he holds out his hand and passes the cigarette to me. I try not to grasp desperately at it, but fuck. I haven't had one since early yesterday. My hands shake as I lift the smoke to my sore lips. They feel stamped, marked, like Beck left some sort of symbol plastered across them. I poke at the tender flesh with my fingers as I inhale.

  “'Bout that time,” he says, and then swings his leg over so that he's straddling the bike. I'm used to the custom choppers my brothers build back home, but I can appreciate the speed and easy handling of Beck's ride. It might not be the fanciest bike I've ever seen, but it's perfectly maintained. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was brand new. Something looks a little different about it though, like maybe someone's done some tinkering around. They'd have to, I guess, because Beck is a big man and he probably weighs a whole hell of a lot with all that muscle. You should know, Tease. You've felt his weight crushing you into the dirt, his body diving deep into yours. I smoke the thoughts away, letting them drift into the warm air like smoke. “Somethin' my momma used to say. Took me till I was twenty-six to figure that shit out.” Beck watches me for a moment and then checks his phone. “It's twelve thirty, for those of y'all that require the little details in life.” He chuckles and sits up straight, slapping his palms on his thighs as I glance around and spot the boxer shorts lying next to me.

  “So, we were cruising pretty fast last night,” I start, grabbing the fabric and tugging the boxers over my ankles. Beck's eyes fall on my body, eating me up with a hungry gaze that I ignore. If we fuck again right now, I might not be able to walk. That, and there's a lot more traffic on the highway this morning than there was last night. “How's that even possible with a bike that small?” I stand up, stumbling a bit and flushing when Beck reaches out to grab my hand. “You must weigh a lot. Add me on there and I'm surprised we even broke fifty miles an hour. How the hell did you manage to outrun my club?”

  Beck's grin gets even wider as he releases my fingers, almost relucta
ntly, and pats the side of his ride.

  “Shoot, I feel like I'm ridin' a damn tricycle on this thing sometimes.” He gets out another cigarette and leans back, looking down at his motorcycle with a gentle fondness. I've never understood that bond, even growing up surrounded by bikes. I enjoy them, am fascinated by them, but I've never fallen in love like that with a piece of metal. Hell, I've never even fallen in love with a person like that before. “And yeah, you're right. Factory condition, it would've barely gotten us down the damn interstate at grandma speed. But I got a friend, Mireya, that's balls to the wall genius on this shit. She tinkered around with it some.”

  I reach over and grab my jacket from on top of Beck's saddlebags. He left a pair of jeans there, too, and a belt. Not mine, but definitely not a woman's either. They're probably his. I could fit both legs into one, but I doubt in that rushed frenzy last night that he remembered to pack my wet jeans. The pink flip flops managed to come along for the ride though. I start putting on the pants while Beck chuckles at me.

  “I do look ri-damn-diculous on this fuckin' thing, don't I? It sort of started off as a joke and well, here we are today, still together after all these fucking years.” Beck laughs again, loud and raucous, like he seems to do a lot, flipping his phone around in his hand and checking the screen. “Sometimes you don't get to choose your partner. Life chooses it for you.” Chills grip my spine, making me stand stiff and straight as I struggle to find a hole on the belt that will actually keep these pants up. No such luck. They end up slipping down my hips as I clutch at the denim with tense fingers. I don't know what's wrong with me, why such an innocuous phrase has my stomach tight and my breath fluttering like the butterflies coalescing near the base of the tree.

  “Any news?” I ask Beck, swallowing hard and trying to maintain that neutral expression I'm so good at. It's weird, but when he glances over me, gaze raking down the baggy shirt I'm wearing, to the laughably ill fitting pants, I feel naked, exposed. Much more so than when I'm at the clubhouse wearing a metal bra and leather shorts. I can't make sense of it, so I don't bother to try.