Bad Breed (MC Romance)

by Amanda Heartley

  It feels like he’s devouring me with those twinkling eyes, and wherever they look, his fingers follow. My face, my neck, my breasts, then my ribs, my tummy, and slowly down to my pubic mound, where they linger, teasingly, for a while before trailing over my hip. I’m gasping, trembling at his touch. I’ve never felt so wanted, so desired, or so sexy as he’s making me feel right now.

  “I don’t remember you ever being a regular teenager. No mood swings, no rebellions, no arrogance. You were always such a nice girl,” he says, caressing my cheeks and stroking my hair as he looks down at me, adoringly.

  “Nice?” I say with fake indignance. “Gee, thanks for nothing, Flynn. Spaghetti is ‘nice’, and I thought I would have ranked a whole lot higher than pasta. I’d have settled for plain lovely,” I say, giggling.

  He laughs with me. “Sorry, it’s just that you’ve changed so much since I last saw you…for the better,” he quickly adds. “You were thin as a rake and had your pigtails and freckles back then, but you’ve turned into the most beautiful, sexy woman I’ve ever met.” I’m still amazed at the way fate has brought us back together, and what he just said about me makes my toes curl. I need him inside me. Now.

  “We’re here now, and Mrs. Krueger can’t hurt us anymore. I don’t even want to give her another thought, ever. Now, are we going to chitty-chat all day, or are you going to fuck me?” I ask, smiling up at him.

  He smiles back, a glint in his eye as he traces his fingers along the length of the snakes on my tattoo, then slides his hand under my ass and squeezes. I can feel my arousal building as he leans down and gently sucks on my hard nipples. I thread my fingers into his hair and pull him closer to me, urging him to suck harder. He flicks his tongue across my each of my stiff little peaks, driving me wild with desire, then I spread my legs wide and he shifts to lay on top of me. I feel his hard cock on my belly as he claims my mouth, kissing me deep and long, and I ache to feel him thrusting into me.

  He pulls away, and I feel his warm lips trail kisses over my breasts, my belly, and down to my wanton pussy. His tongue probes me, pushing aside my wet folds and laps at my clit like a cat. I throw my head back on the pillow and ball my fists in the sheets as my head swims with the sensation. He circles with the tip of his tongue, then left, right, up, down, and I know I’m going to explode with pleasure.

  I don’t have to wait long.

  His fingers part my entrance and slide slowly inside while he continues to lick my clit. I feel him curl them upward inside me and he gently strokes my G-spot, back and forth, with his fingertips. Fuck! The sensation hits me, and I feel my climax building to an impending, and inevitable, crescendo. I move my hands from the sheets, balling my fists in his thick hair instead, and pull him hard against my pussy as the first, delicious wave of my orgasm hits me.

  My head rolls from side-to-side as I arch my back, my thighs clench tight around his head, and my legs tremble as wave after wave of my climax courses through my veins. It feels like electricity shooting out from my fingers and toes as I buck and writhe on the bed in pure ecstasy. I’ve never had an orgasm so strong before, and it’s exciting, if not a little scary, at what I’m feeling. I hope it won’t be the last.

  “Nice?” he asks, when I’ve finally come down and caught my breath. I smile as he raises his head from my pussy, his face glistening with my juices.

  I smile back at him, shaking my head. “I already told you, Flynn. Spaghetti is nice. That was out of this fucking world. And, thank you.”

  “Seeing you happy, makes me happy,” he says. “And, God knows, I haven’t been happy in a long time.”

  “I’m sad to hear that. Now, lie down and let me fix that,” I say, rolling over to the other side of the bed and grabbing a condom from my bedside drawer. He crawls up to the pillow and lays on his back. I lean into him and kiss him while I trace my fingers down his muscular chest, over his stomach to his cock. The tip is wet and slippery with his precum, and I spread it around the bulbous head with my thumb. I slowly pump, stroking his length between my palm and fingers. He groans into my mouth and moves his hand to the back of my head, pulling me closer to him.

  Our deep, passionate kiss makes me as horny as hell again, and I can’t wait any longer. I swing one leg over his thick thighs and straddle him with my eager pussy spread above his balls, just inches from his stiff, throbbing cock. I’m a little apprehensive. Not at the situation, but I just don’t know if I can accommodate him.

  I slip the condom over him then shuffle forward, pressing my open pussy lips against the base of his shaft, sliding forward to the tip and back again. His dick glides over my clit with each movement, and he groans. I let out a gasp when I grind down on him then, sliding his swollen cock inside, I shift to adjust to his size. Just when I think I have all of him inside me, he fondles my breasts, rubbing his thumbs roughly over my nipples, and looks into my eyes. He bucks his hips, nudging a little deeper, and I don’t know if I can take any more, but I press down to meet him and feel his cock slide in a little further. I let out a whimper as he holds my hips and bucks against me again until his cock is sheathed inside me to the hilt.

  I take a second to catch my breath, then squeeze my thighs against his and circle my hips, building up a rhythm. He never takes his eyes off me as the pleasure builds inside me again, and I ride him like a wild cowboy, craving for another release. I lean forward, placing my palms on his manly chest, and he holds my hips against him, keeping himself rooted deep inside me until another orgasm tears through my body. I throw back my head, screaming his name before collapsing on top of him.

  Flynn is right there, only seconds behind as he wraps his arms around me, holding me so tight against his chest as he thrusts in and out of my wet pussy. He groans, his body tenses, then calls out my name as he reaches his orgasm, and it gives me an odd satisfaction, knowing I have the power to make him come so hard.

  We kiss, cuddling close against each other, and talk about our past and where our lives have taken us for the longest time before I eventually roll off him. Totally satisfied, but exhausted.

  * * *

  I was aware of Flynn’s warm body against mine as I drifted off to sleep, and I felt safe and loved. It’s hours later now when I wake up and I see from my clock that it’s already afternoon. He has one arm around my waist and a leg over my hip, locking me to him completely.

  I try to move when I feel him stir behind me. He pulls me back against him and I feel something hard and warm rubbing against my lower back. I giggle into the sheets as he flips me onto my belly and positions himself behind me. The man is insatiable, and the doggy sex is every bit as blissful as it had been earlier.

  Only this time, I must have slipped into a deep slumber, and when I wake again…

  Flynn has gone.

  Chapter Nine

  Flynn

  “Where the hell have you been? And more importantly, what the fuck happened to your face, man? You look like a banker, not a biker,” Jake shouts as I walk into the yard of our rented house, and the rest of the guys all laugh at me.

  “Number one, getting myself shot,” I reply as I lift the black T-shirt I’d borrowed from Jo’s wardrobe to show Jake the wound. “And number two, so I had a shave. No big deal, is it?”

  “Well that depends,” he says, studying my injury. “I haven’t seen you without fuzz on your face for years. You look weird. Now, what about that wound? Who shot you?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I spilled some blood, but it didn’t go deep. It happened on the sidewalk outside the diner. The guys that did it said it was for Edgar.”

  “Edgar? Who were they?” Jake quizzes me further.

  “I think they must be from the club of that scumbag I shot. Out for revenge.”

  “Jesus Christ!” he shouts. “We so do not need this kind of heat right now. Who patched you up, anyway? Looks like they did a good job.”

  “It’s a long story,” I say. “Steve from the diner helped me out. He’s a good guy. Used to be one of us,
then he took me to Jo’s last night and a doctor buddy of his fixed me up.”

  “Actually, I know all about it,” he says, nodding his head. A wry smile appears on his lips, but I can tell he’s still mad. How could he know?

  I see Adrian standing on the sidelines, watching Jake rant at me with a crazy, self-satisfied smile on his face. I want to beat the smug bastard to a pulp the first chance I get, and I make that plain from the dirty look I throw his way. It just makes him even smugger, no doubt recalling the advice I’d given him yesterday about him and Dahlia, and how it’s flipped right back on me.

  “I know all about you and…Jo, is it?” he continues. “The pretty little waitress from the diner you’re so sweet on? You banged her, didn’t you? You banged her sexy ass. Is that why you shaved your ugly face? She got you wrapped around her little finger already? I’m disappointed, Flynn.”

  “No, it’s not like that,” I protest. “Yes, we had sex, but she didn’t make me lose my face fur. I just fancied a change.”

  “Thought so. Say it out loud, Flynn,” he says. “Apparently, you were doing it quite loud when the boys came to get you. They told me you two were making quite some noise, so they left you to it.”

  “What? How—?”

  “Believe it or not, we got concerned when you never got back here last night,” he says. “Went to the diner this morning and asked the cook if he knew where you were. He went a little crazy at me for a while, but eventually he told me what happened and where you were.”

  “Jake. You’ve been a brother, and a darn good friend to me,” I say, quietly, and he looks right into my face. “Listen. Turns out me and Jo go way back. To the time before I even met you. I thought she’d died, but we’ve found each other again. I have feelings for her, man, and I won’t apologize for that.”

  He stares into my eyes for a few seconds, then continues his rant. “Fucking hell, Flynn!” he says, tapping two fingers on my head. “Did you get shot in the head as well as your side? So, she’s the same chick that put you into depression and on that self-destructive streak that almost got you killed when you tried to pickpocket me all those years ago? I spared your life and pulled you off the street,” he says, pacing like a caged lion, and running his fingers through his hair.

  “I know, Jake, and I’ll always be grateful for that, but she saved my life, too. The guys who shot me were going to let me slowly bleed to death, and Steve would’ve done the same if it wasn’t for her.”

  Adrian steps into the conversation. When it comes down to club business, there’s no one more meticulous, thorough, or reliable as him. He’d done his homework and was ready with answers, as usual.

  “They were from the L.A. Pirates, Jake. They hang out in this part of town,” he says.

  “So, what do we do next?” Jake asks.

  “I think we should try and smooth things over with the Pirates. We don’t have the numbers for another firefight, even if we wanted to,” Adrian replies, calmly.

  “But they tried to kill one of our own. We can’t have that.”

  “Yeah, and it’s obvious why, but you know where this will end up if we pursue a war with them. We take out another one of theirs, and they’ll take out one of ours, if not more. Only next time, you can bet it won’t just be a flesh wound. Think carefully, Jake. Maybe ask the cook to set up a meet if you want to go make the peace?” Adrian suggests. “Apparently, he used to be one of them.”

  “Fine. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see me again so soon, but I’ll have a word, and the sooner, the better,” he says, striding toward his bike.

  * * *

  He returns to the house twenty minutes later, but I can’t tell from the expression on his face whether things went well, or not.

  “Ok, saddle up and let’s pow-wow with the Pirates. Steve looked like he was chewing a wasp when I showed up again, but he got hold of their president for me and told him we want to parlay. Check your weapons, nonetheless. Adrian, take your bike and ride with Romeo here. I’ll take Ray. Just us four. Let’s keep it low key.”

  “I can ride my own fucking bike,” I say, indignantly.

  “Flynn! That’s my decision. I don’t need to explain myself,” he says. He’s angry, and it was wrong of me to question him, so I keep my cool and ride pillion with Adrian.

  * * *

  It’s already dark by the time we approach the abandoned cold storage unit where we’ve agreed to meet the president of the Pirates. My mind is preoccupied. I can’t get Jo out of my mind, and I’d much rather be back in her bed, pleasuring her luscious body. But right now, club business and club loyalty takes priority.

  Despite the Pirates expecting our arrival, we leave our bikes some distance away. Always expecting betrayal, we don’t want to ride right up to their front door, then all die in a hail of bullets before we even get to talk with their leader. We walk through the front yard of the property toward the door of a shabby-looking building. Cautiously, we all file inside and find ourselves in a long corridor, at the end of which is a light and an open door.

  We hear raised, angry voices, so we draw our weapons and push forward slowly, covering each other as we move. As we near the door, the voices become louder and clearer, so we wait just outside to find out what the hell is going on before we proceed any further. What we hear is some guy chewing another guy’s ass. Turns out it’s not dissimilar to what happened between me and Jake earlier.

  “I heard what happened from a very reliable source, so what the fuck were you two doing in that alley, Cole?”

  “We were lying in wait, Al,” another voice chimes in.

  “I wasn’t asking you, Clint,” the first man says. “Who were you waiting for, Cole?”

  “Those bastard bikers who killed Edgar,” the man replies.

  “See, I don’t remember giving orders to take anyone out, and the last time I checked, I was still the president of this club. I don’t want to end up in a war over this, so now I gotta smooth things over with their guy.”

  “We did it for Edgar.”

  “Edgar was reckless, short-tempered, and full of shit. He probably deserved what he got. You two should have let sleeping dogs lie,” the leader says.

  “He just went to that shit place for a drink. Since when is that a crime?” Cole argues.

  “A drink? I have it on good authority that he tried to rape the owner and pulled a gun when those guys burst in. That’s what got him killed. Now, I told you to forget about Edgar. I’m in charge here and, like it or not, that means I give the orders.”

  Jake looks at me and Adrian, taking the safeties off our weapons and shakes his head from side to side, warning us not to move.

  “I don’t think so. Fuck you, Al. I don’t need your permission to even the score for a brother. Your time as president is over. I’ll be running the show from now on. Kill him, Clint.”

  “Go…now!” Jake says, and we run through the open door, guns at the ready. All three men turn around in surprise and one points his weapon at us. Ray drops him where he stands, a bullet right in the middle of his forehead. The kid has good instincts.

  “What the fuck? You again? Cole says, pointing his gun at me.

  “Drop it…now…and we’ll let you go.” Jake barks at the man. “He ain’t worth you dying for, too.”

  “Not before I settle the score,” he says, flicking off his safety. Big mistake. Adrian fires twice and he flies backward across the floor, lifeless.

  “Well, I was not expecting that. I assume one of you is Jake? At least I hope so,” Al says, looking quite at ease given what just happened. He’s looks to be a young man. Maybe too young to be running an MC.

  Jake steps forward and holds out his hand. “That’ll be me. That’s some reception you laid on for us.”

  “Yeah, good to meet you, and thanks for saving my life. You and your men were just in time.” Jake shakes his hand, but there’s no smile on his face. He’s a cautious man. Caution is what’s kept him, and us, alive all these years.

&nb
sp; “Where’s the rest of your men?” Jake asks, eyeing Al with suspicion.

  “Waiting for me at the Full Moon Diner,” Al replies, smiling.

  “How can we trust you that this isn’t a trap to finish us all off?” I ask, pointing my gun at Al.

  “Look, we don’t want any trouble either. Edgar was stupid and got himself killed. End of. I’m not going to take my men into a war with you over him.”

  Jake throws a disapproving look at me and I lower my gun, taking a step back, but it irks me a little the way he just put me down in front of everyone. I’m surprised. I’ve never felt this way before. He’s always said we must never let a woman come between us and the club. That it could tear us apart. Was that what was happening here? I shook away the thought.

  “Why are you here then?” Jake asks with a hint of derision. It takes a long time for Jake to trust a person, let alone like them.

  “Man, you are a hard nut to crack, aren’t you?” Al says.

  Jake pulls out a rickety chair from under the table and jerks his head toward it. Al hesitates, then accepts the invitation to sit. Jake pulls out another and puts one foot up on it, leaning down to Al, and staring intently into his face.

  “I don’t have time to dick around, Al. So, let’s cut the small talk and you come clean about exactly what happened here.” Al looks up at him, and his smile disappears.

  “Okay, okay. Those guys called me here to discuss Edgar, and they bragged about shooting one of your men. I guess they thought I’d be pleased and approve of their actions. Maybe they thought I’d promote them in the ranks, but I don’t tolerate any of my guys going on rogue missions. I give the orders. Besides, I knew what Edgar had tried to do. You know the score as well as I do, Jake. Sometimes we fight. Sometimes we kill, but we have our code, and we don’t violate women. At least, not in our club,” he says, eyeballing Jake.