The man doesn't budge.
Instead, he puts a third finger inside of me and sucks the hard bud of my clit gently into his mouth.
“Ah, please stop,” I whisper, my voice close to breaking. “Please stop. Beck, please.” He ignores me, scraping his teeth gently along the most sensitive part on my fucking body. I do scream then, bucking my hips hard and coming up against firm resistance. Beck won't let me move. I yank at his hair and thrash, but I can't get him to budge. “Beck, no!” I scream as he continues to move his fingers in and out, slowly but surely, his mouth sucking on my clit with a firm but gentle pressure. “Beck!” This last one comes out in a screech and them I'm throwing my head back into the pillows and groaning like the air's just been knocked from my lungs. Unintelligible sounds scrape from my throat and drown me until I collapse into a near weeping puddle. The orgasm was good, but it wasn't enough. Not enough. “Beck,” I whisper as he chuckles against my body and plants one, last kiss on my clit. His fingers slide out, leaving me empty and desperate for it.
“At your fuckin' service,” he growls, sliding his body up mine, touching his wet fingers to my left breast and massaging it with a firm grip before dropping his mouth to my pert nipple, standing up like a pink soldier at attention. I arc my hips against him, begging for it with my body. I don't think I can take anymore. I'm not used to this heat, this passion. I have never in my life even come close to experiencing the depth of feeling I've got going on right now. Beck is stirring my apathetic soul awake.
And I only have one more day after this to share with him.
“Hurry Beck,” I whisper into his ear, scraping my teeth along his earlobe. “Do it. Fuck me.” He chuckles against my breast and kisses his way up to my mouth, capturing my lips with that soul gripping intensity, that fire, the slick brush of his tongue. Our mouths dance together as he adjusts himself down below and strokes his dick along the wetness. It's extra slippery with his saliva, making it really easy for him to find my sweet spot and slide in deep.
“Oh, Emilie,” he grunts as our pelvises make contact, naked bodies pressed tightly together. “Oh, baby.” Beck puts his elbows on either side of my head and looks down at me. “You feel so fucking good.” He moves inside my heat, rocking his body to my rhythm as I raise my hips to meet him, trying to make sure I get every inch, not caring if I'm being greedy or not. I lock my ankles behind his ass, pulling him tighter into me until his balls are being crushed against my cheeks. I put so much pressure on him that he stops thrusting and instead just rocks his hips into mine, clashing our bodies together at the spot where we meet. The movement rubs my clit in just the right way, drawing sweat from my forehead that drips down and soaks the pillow. My eyes go blurry again and I find myself coming, not once or twice but three fucking times. Layers of pleasure stack on top of one another, weighing me down, crushing the air from my lungs and drawing one last scream from my throat. Beck times his release with mine, grabbing my head between his hands and kissing my mouth so hard our teeth clash as he comes inside of me, marking me, claiming me, making me wish I never had to leave.
Tease
Chapter 21
After we finish fucking, I fall asleep again and wake up angry with myself for wasting time with Beck. Since when did time with this stranger become such a precious fucking commodity? When I open my eyes fully, I find him sitting on a chair and lacing up his boots.
“Good afternoon, Emilie Hathorne,” he says, standing up and moving over to the edge of the bed. I roll onto my back, keeping the sheet over my breasts to hide my nipples from him. They're rock hard and already ready for another round. Me, I'm not so sure I could take it again. The area between my thighs is sweetly sore. And sticky. Very, very sticky. Beck leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead that surprises the hell out of me. I did not expect that one. A hot fuck, sure. A sweet and gentle kiss? I shiver. “If you wouldn't mind getting dressed, I've got something I want to talk to you about.”
I sit up abruptly.
“What?” The word sounds harsher than I mean it to, but I can't help myself. No good conversation has ever started out with those words. “Did something happen to my family?” Beck pauses and then bites at his lip.
“You sure you don't want to get dressed first?” he asks, freaking me the fuck out. I shake my head and sit back against the headboard, heart pounding a million miles a minute.
“Please just tell me before I have a heart attack.” Beck sighs and rubs at his red hair, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to me.
“It isn't all sunshine and roses, Tease. But it's nothing you need to have a panic attack over.” Beck pauses. “I don't think.” I stare at him, refusing to draw my gaze away from his eyes until he tells me what this is about. I don't like mysteries. Beck watches me carefully and then sighs, nodding his chin and sitting up straight. “I want to be honest with you, Tease.” He pauses. “Emilie. I've got to tell you this before somebody else does.” I put my hand on my chest and close my eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “We found the shooter.” Chills crawl up my spine, and my eyes snap open.
“Who?” I can't take the anticipation, cannot even fucking stand it. This has to solve things, doesn't it? I know I'm grasping at straws now. This has changed from a mission of morality and trying to protect my family, to somehow wishing and hoping and praying that our clubs will get along. That it'll be okay for Beck and I to speak with each other. See each other. Maybe.
I think my eighteen years are showing. Beck is interested, but he never implied even once that he'd want a relationship with me. I'm probably too young for him anyway. Or he's too old for me.
I put my hands over my face.
“It was a girl in our club, Emilie. A rat, a traitor, yes, but a Triple M'er.” My heart sinks to the floor. “Her name is Margot Tempe, and while I wish I could curb stomp her ass, my Pres won't let me. He wants to release her and then pass the information to your brother, let him do what he deems appropriate.” I swallow hard. What Darren deems appropriate probably wouldn't sit well with these people. There's a very good chance Margot won't live to see another birthday. “We want you to make the call, confirm the arrangements of the trade with him, and see what he says.”
“That's probably a good idea,” I whisper, knowing exactly what my brother is going to do and say. He'll accept the terms, and he might, might let Triple M walk for giving up Margot. That'll be the extent of his generosity. “But that's not all you have to tell me, is it?” I can sense more – worse things even.
Beck sighs again and adjusts himself, leaning his elbows on his knees.
“Can I tell you a story, Emilie?” he asks me, and I nod. I have a crush on the man. That much is painfully obvious. I'm already at the point where I'll listen to any story he wants to tell me. “It won't excuse what I've done, but it might help you understand it.” Beck closes his eyes for a moment, like he's gathering himself together. When he opens them again, they look even greener than they were before, even though I know that isn't possible. “Okay, here goes.” Another deep breath. “I was a good kid, Emilie. I had a mom and a dad and we were alright. My dad was strict, and my mother followed his orders like a soldier. But they loved me best they could, so I did what they wanted me to do and joined the Army.” He raises up his hands, flashing me the word Hopeless again. It's a weird word to see on this man's knuckles. From my experience being around him, he seems anything but hopeless. “I won't bore you with war stories, but it fucked me up good, and I ended up losing a lot of people that I cared about.” Beck looks down at his intertwined knuckles. “I failed a psych test and was discharged. After that, I was so messed up that I just wandered until I found somewhere I could belong. That was important to me after being in the military. I wanted a group, a brotherhood. I ended up in an MC that ain't worth the shit on my boots, and I did bad things. I hurt people that maybe didn't deserve to be hurt. And the only reason, the only reason I escaped that life was because Triple M found me and gave me a new place to belong, a
new family to believe in.”
“Beck,” I whisper, but I'm not sure where he's going with this, so I try to keep quiet. He closes his eyes and keeps talking, like if he stops he might not be able to start up again.
“When somebody hurts or threatens that family, I get a little crazy. I won't lie to you about that.”
“I understand,” I tell him, because I do. This is one of the few things in life that I actually get.
“And when that shot went off and Melissa went down, I lost my shit. I shot at least three of your club members.” I swallow my pain and close my eyes, too, like if I can't see his face, it'll make it less real. Watching Beck, I could tell he was a badass. Of course he killed some of my family members. Of course he did. But I can still pretend, right? As long as I don't know who exactly he murdered. But Beck's not done. “And I stabbed one of them, several times. The man with the blue eyes, the Sergeant at arms.”
“Oren,” I whisper and I don't know whether to feel angry or … relieved. Traitor. No, no, I'm angry. I knew Oren. We had dinner together in the club room, played pool. He watched over me, and just because I didn't want to be his old lady, I can't tarnish his memory. I have to be respectful. He was family, family, fucking family. Beck adjusts himself and I open my eyes, staring into his and wanting so much to forgive but not knowing how. I can't forgive him, not me alone. The club has to forgive him and that is never, never, never going to happen.
“Tease,” Beck whispers, and I can tell there's something else he wants to say to me. But I'm not ready. Might not ever be ready. Even though I want to be. Even though I want him so bad it hurts. I shouldn't, but I do. Whatever it is he wants to say, I don't want to hear it. If I do … Traitor will be the nicest word in the book for me.
“Would you mind looking away, so I can grab my clothes?” I ask and Beck nods, face falling, that omnipresent grin disappearing like a seashell in the ocean. I reach over and cup my hands around his. Live in the moment. I still have a few days to spend with him, so that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to enjoy myself and then I'm going to walk away. Because that's the right thing to do. It's what Darren, what Seventy-seven Brothers, would want from me. I can't sacrifice everything for a man I just met, who I don't have the capacity to forgive. “I'll get dressed and make that phone call.” I pause and glance away. “And then, maybe, we could find something to do together?” I look back at him and try to smile. I'm being ridiculous – it's impossible to feel this much for a stranger. Impossible. “I could always go for another hamburger.”
Beck
Chapter 22
Letting go of Margot Tempe is not an easy thing for me to do. When I look at her face, all I see are the ones we lost in the shoot-out. I clench my hands at my sides and sneak a furtive glance around the group. Triple M ain't happy either, but I think if they look at it from Austin's point of view, they'll see that this is the best possible solution. We let Margot walk, show sympathy to our fallen sister, and she stumbles straight into the hands of Seventy-seven Brothers. She'll get her just desserts, and we'll have shown mercy. Seventy-seven Brothers will take our straight trade, and we can walk away from this, grieve, and move the fuck on.
'Cept I'll still be thinkin' of Tease long after she's gone. It's gonna take a whole truckload of beautiful bunnies to forget this woman. Goddamn you, Emilie. I can't have a girl waltzin' into my life and turnin' it upside down, just isn't me. You know, this afternoon when I went downstairs for a smoke break with Kimmi, I actually stopped to smell some roses. Like fuckin' literally. I sniffed the damn things.
I touch a hand to my forehead and smoke my cigarette, glancing over at Tease. She's been acting weird since I gave her my stupid ass speech. I've been rehearsing the damn thing since she fell asleep, fighting myself on whether I should even bring that crap up. But I gave myself the weekend to test this out, so that's what I'm going to do. She has to know about me, all the dirty truths. I won't admit to myself why I need her to know. Why I'm trying to stuff a life altering revelation into a couple o' days. I'm not even sure what I want to happen after all this. Say Tease and I get along, have a good time, then what? She stays in Triple M? The thought really ain't all that far-fetched if you think about it.
The doors to the hotel open, and my attention shifts to Margot in her jeans and her orange tank top. She has her duffel bag hanging off one shoulder, and her Triple M jacket draped over one arm. As soon as she emerges outside, the hisses start up, the insults, the name-callin'. I feel violence boiling all around us, threatening to break free. If that happens, even my Beck bullshit won't be able to save Miss Margot.
“Thank you for your sympathy,” Margot says to Austin, but his face is stoic, frozen into a blank expression. I have no idea what he's feeling right now. I sure hope Amy does because that man is going to need all the support we can give him. She hands him the jacket and he takes it, stepping aside as Margot makes the walk of shame, head down, eyes on the pavement. Kimmi refused to come down here, deciding to sit in her room instead. I wonder if she's watching on the balcony? I glance up but don't see her. Damn it Margot. Fuck you Mint. Why can't poor fucking Kimmi get a break?
Austin turns to look at Tease, and my attention shifts to her back, draped in property patches. Without hesitation, she moves forward and takes Austin's cell from his hand. The group grows quiet while she dials the number.
“Tax?” she asks and then pauses, looking out over the sun soaked pavement towards the road where Margot's heading with her bag. “Triple M's identified the shooter as one of their own.” She takes a step back, red hair billowing around her face. A moment later, she glances over her shoulder and meets my eyes. I smile at her, even though this isn't the happiest fuckin' party I ever been to. “Her name is Margot Tempe, and they're willing to release her to you. She'll be at the 5th Avenue bus station in Nashville by three o'clock.” Tease keeps watching me. I'm sure the whole of Triple M is wondering what's going on between us right now. I hope finding out Margot was the shooter will cool their jets a bit. I don't want any of that anger taken out on Tease. “And they accept your terms. We'll exchange at the Grand Bent Plaza Monday at noon.” Tease turns away from me and hands the phone to Austin.
He takes it and from her and reconfirms the information. Provided Margot doesn't run for it and actually uses that bus ticket we bought her, we might be able to appease Seventy-seven Brothers. If she doesn't, well, at least we'll have given her a chance to escape. Not that she deserves it, but hey, mercy is an underrated trait anyhow. I move forward, breaking away from the crowd and pausing behind Tease.
“The plaza then,” Austin says looking at Tease and then up at me. “I hope we can trust Tax not to screw us over?” he asks, and she needs nod.
“Melissa?” I ask because I haven't heard a damn word about her injuries. Tease turns to face me, tucking her hands into the pockets of the jeans she borrowed from Mireya. Paired with the red tank, the jacket, the purple heels … fuck me down to the border and back. I know Tease suggested we go out for burgers again, but maybe I'd rather stay in and have something else to eat. That body is makin' my damn stomach rumble.
“My brother said she was fine, and if there's anything about him to be admired, it's his honesty. You'll get what he says you'll get.” She smiles at me and tucks some of her hair behind one ear. I like how she wears it, down, parted slightly to the side. Nice and casual, no thrills. It's so fucking sexy, I lift my hand up and run my fingers through it. Tease closes her eyes and leans her head into my hand, drawing a deep exhalation of breath from my lungs. When she realizes what she's doing, she opens her eyes and steps away abruptly. “Thank you for thinking about what I said, for digging beyond the obvious. It doesn't seem like much, but finding out who shot your friend and why, this is a big deal to the club. It's going to make all the difference in how this turns out. And as far as Broken Dallas goes, I'll talk to my brother about them. He could pressure them to back off.” Austin narrows his eyes like he doesn't trust Tease, but I give him a look. He mig
ht be my President, but he's also my friend and he knows when to back off. Hell, he should be thanking the stars that Tease is around – I haven't checked out Amy's ass since I met her.
“We'll take care of our business, but thank you,” Austin says, looking back at the club as they start to disperse. Nobody crosses the curb and leaves the area of the parking lot. Austin told them if they did, they may as well leave and never come back. That, and the promised I'd break their faces in. He doesn't want anybody going vigilante on Margot. I watch as he gets out a cigarette. “I guess we have some free time?” Austin shakes his head. “Though I don't know how I'm ever going to enjoy it. Don't think I could relax again, not after what happened in Korbin.” He looks up at me and we exchange a glance. “I guess I could look into this clubhouse shit.” I whoop at him and cause poor little Miss Amy to jump as she approaches us. I toss her a wink and a grin and grab Tease around the waist. I don't really mean to do it, just happens. Casual touching. First sign you been bit by the bee and are about to drown in honey.
“Clubhouse?” she asks, pausing next to us and looking at Tease with interest. That's a good sign in my opinion. Amy seems to have a knack with other women. I watched her with Mireya at the pool a while back, watched her damn near charm the pants off the bitch. Hell, she even got both Mireya and Melissa to read her fuckin' romance novels. If she likes Tease, then I think I'm on the right track here. Makes me feel like less of a pussy fairytale reading bitch – like Gaine.
“No promises, sugar,” he says, smiling around his cigarette. “Just an idea. Personally, I can't imagine life stuck in one place, but … I'm starting to see the advantages. A fucking chance to breathe being one of them.” Tease smiles that magnetic little half-smile, and my fingers tighten on her flesh.
Needing Me, Wanting You Page 16