Twist (The Brazen Bulls MC Book 2)

by Susan Fanetti

  “No, it’s cool. I don’t mind. Where is everybody?”

  “Rad and Griff’ll be up in a couple hours. They’re on a club thing. Willa and Patrice…I’m guessing they’re at the lake.” He slid his finger into the waistband of her jeans and tugged her close. “You wanna join them? I’m dying to see you in that little red-checked number. Teeny-weeny bikini.”

  For all the wild things she’d done over the past few years, Leah had never owned a bikini in her life. Her father thought they were obscene and absolutely nothing his daughter should ever wear. She’d had only Speedos—boob-smashing, low-legged, no-cleavage Speedos. Joanna, Dane’s old lady, had brought her into the shop she owned, and now Leah had two different bikinis—a ridiculously little thing in red gingham, just a set of a few triangles held together with narrow white ties, and a more substantial royal blue one that covered her rear and had a strapless ‘bandeau’ top.

  Gunner had seen them lying on the bed when she was trying to decide which to bring for this weekend. No surprise, he’d preferred the red one.

  She wasn’t hairy at all, but she’d had to shave quite aggressively for that suit. Places she’d never shaved before. When she’d complained about razor burn, Maddie, Ox’s old lady, had laughed and told her she’d make her an appointment for a full Brazilian.

  Whatever that was. She supposed she’d find out next week.

  Just now, though, standing in this bedroom with fresh, woodsy air coming through the screened window and making the chintz curtains flutter and float, feeling the happysad of nostalgia and reeling with love for the man before her, Leah didn’t want to put on her bikini and go be with people.

  “We’re alone here, right?” She hooked her finger into his waistband, mirroring his hold on her.

  He grinned. “What you got in mind?” An animal groan rumbled in his chest when she bit her lip and popped the big buckle on his belt. “Fuck yeah,” he muttered and yanked her close. “Fuck yeah.”

  Leah had been completely terrified to have sex with Gunner without Ecstasy. She’d had no idea what it would feel like, or what she should do, or even, embarrassingly, whether it would all work the same. Of course she knew how sex worked, but on E, the world was so different in every possible way, she was so different in every possible way, that she’d felt like a virgin. Not just a virgin, a stupid virgin who’d been, like, raised in a cave or something. Like Nell, in that movie. Tay inna wind.

  What if she wasn’t good? What if it wasn’t good?

  But that first time, before he’d been officially cleared by his doctor, she’d discovered something amazing: it was better this way. And it was easy. Sex on E was just bodies slamming together until something gave inside her. It gave big and wild and felt great, like an explosion of sensation, but it was just a thing that happened in her body and then was over. Sex straight up, with somebody she loved, with her brain fully engaged and in sync with her body—oh, that was so much more.

  Now, she dropped to her knees and opened his belt. Gunner hissed and weaved his fingers into her hair. He almost always went commando, so she popped the buttons of his fly and had his cock out and in her hands right away. He was fully hard already, and when she sucked his tip into her mouth, she felt it swell even more.

  His hips rocked forward, shoving his cock deeper, and Leah relaxed her jaw to accept him. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Take it. Take it, take it.”

  When he rocked again, he pushed in too far, and she gagged, but he seemed to like that. His hands pulled in her hair, and she had to push hard to make him give her room. It wasn’t the first time— Gunner liked force. He would do things slow and gentle, too, but he got carried away and needed to be redirected. That was hard for her. Her instinct was to follow his lead, even when he went somewhere unknown or scary, and she was learning that she didn’t mind being pushed around a little, but she didn’t like him so deep she gagged, and she didn’t like him to do things so rough they hurt, so she was learning how to back him off. She was learning her limits, and he was, too.

  She was the sluttiest virgin in the history of sex. Or the most virginal slut. One or the other.

  Luckily, it was never a big deal when she pushed him back; he simply let her, he settled down, and they carried on. On her knees now, she wrapped her hands around him, sliding his length through her fists as she sucked and licked and nipped at his tip until he was groaning loudly, thrusting through her hands, into her mouth.

  “Fuck, I’m close. Fuck, fuck, shit.” His hands tightened still more in her hair, his hips rocked still harder.

  She unfurled one hand from around his cock and cupped his balls. They had come up tight to his body, as they did when he was close, the skin drawing taut, and, not thinking about it or knowing why she did it, something she’d never done before, she squeezed. Hard.

  The sound he made wasn’t human. It wasn’t even animal. It belonged in another realm of existence entirely—a howl and a roar and a scream, all layered and tangled into one unholy, unreal bellow. He came so hard she felt it hit the back of her throat, and he arched violently backward, nearly losing his feet. In his jostle to stay upright, he pulled free of her mouth, and the last of his finish painted her face.

  Leah knelt there, stunned, not sure whether what had happened was good or not. It was different, definitely. A little scary. A little messy. A lot loud. She wiped her cheek and stared at what was on her fingers. She’d just squeezed his balls like she’d meant to pop them, and he’d just come on her face. It seemed like that should have been upsetting and gross, but it wasn’t. Just…different. For her, anyway.

  Gasping, Gunner sagged to his knees before her. “Fucking hell, Leah.”

  “I’m…I’m sorry. Should I be sorry? Did I hurt you?”

  He pulled off his t-shirt and wiped her face. “I’m okay. Sorry about this.”

  “It’s okay. Was that…good? I can’t tell.”

  He laughed at that, but his expression was so strange. Not humor, not at all. Something haunted at the back of his eyes. More like…shame? No. It couldn’t be that.

  “You can’t tell?” He held his shirt up. “This is pretty solid evidence, I think.”

  But she knew it was possible to have an orgasm and not have fun. She’d had that experience a time or two, even under the thrall of E. Still, she let his sort-of answer serve. “Okay.” When she tried to get back to her feet, he grabbed her arm.

  “No. We’re not done.” He laid her back on the frayed braided rug and worked her jeans open. Leah helped him undress her, then watched him undress himself. When they were both naked and he was hard again and inside her, she wrapped herself around him, and he took her in the gentlefierce way she loved best.

  ~oOo~

  The screen door slammed, and Griffin trotted down the steps, dangling a six-pack of Budweiser from one hand. He peeled a can off and handed it to Leah and then another to Gunner. There was a little piece of ice against the rim of the can, and Leah sucked it into her mouth, playing with the ice on her tongue for a second. Even in only the illumination of their campfire and the faint glow that made it over from the lights shining through the cabin windows, she could see Gunner’s eyes light up, and she grinned. Settling back against his chest, she opened her can and took a long swallow.

  She didn’t like beer, but she was getting used to it. Gunner drank a lot of beer. It worried her a little, but he never got sloppy drunk like her father always did. Gunner seemed to drink until he felt a certain way, and then drink to stay there. That seemed okay. He’d told her that booze and drugs weren’t his weakness, and she believed him.

  Besides, it was nice to drink with him, or smoke a little weed, and be mellow.

  All three couples were using only three big wooden chairs, the women cuddled up on their men’s laps. In the chair to Gunner and Leah’s left, Rad and Willa were practically having sex. It was their first weekend alone since their little boy, Zach, had been born five months before, and they were definitely making the most of it. Rad’s shirt
was open, and Willa’s was pushed up over her boobs, and he had her jeans open and his hand buried between her legs.

  Leah couldn’t help but watch a little. She heard Rad groan, “Jesus fuck, baby, I gotta get in you,” and she squirmed on Gunner’s lap, feeling an unsettling mixture of shame and arousal. Like watching something so private was extra hot because it was so private. She felt wet and squirmy and wanted Gunner’s hand where Rad’s was, but on her.

  The kind of sex she’d had in her life had been what other people would probably call wild, but every single day with Gunner, she discovered something new about being present in the intimate iteration of her body. If anyone had asked her what it felt like to be high on Ecstasy, she would have said, with wholehearted conviction, that it felt like she was one-hundred-percent in tune with the moment, that she was perfectly present. Now, she knew that wasn’t true. To be so focused on physical sensation was to miss everything else. It seemed like Ecstasy opened the mind to total awareness and total connection, but it was all fake.

  Gunner leaned over and took a joint from Griffin, who was ensconced again with Patrice. They were making out, too, but in a more PG-13 way as of yet. Patrice sucked on Griffin’s neck and petted his chest—he’d cast off his shirt a long time ago, as had Gunner—while he passed the joint over.

  Gunner took a hit and then held it out for Leah. He had to nudge her, because her eyes had drifted back to Rad and Willa. Willa was straddling Rad now, her legs thrown over the arms of the chair, and she had her hands all up in Rad’s hair while they kissed enthusiastically, rocking against each other in perfect sync.

  Gunner’s nudge brought her out of her trance. Leah noticed the joint and took a hit while he held it.

  “You want some of that?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

  She held the smoke and blew it out before she responded. “What?”

  “Watching you get off watching them—that’s fucking hot, Lee.”

  Before she could answer, there was a shuffle at their left. Rad had stood up with Willa wrapped around him. “See ya in a shake, fellas. Got some business before our business.”

  He grabbed the joint from Gunner’s fingers as he walked by, took a hit, gave Willa a hit, and handed it to Griffin on their way back to the cabin. Leah watched it all, fascinated.

  When Gunner shifted her on his lap, settling her so she faced completely away from him, and pushed his hand into the sweatpants she’d changed into after they’d come back from the lake, she forgot about Rad and Willa.

  “Fuck, you are sopping wet.” His fingers sank into her, brushing over her clit, and her head sagged to his shoulder—her body had focused entirely on his hand, abandoning the work of holding her head up. Then his other hand snaked under her t-shirt and tweaked a nipple, and it focused there as well.

  She moaned loudly as the first thrill of rising need surged through her veins. Aware they weren’t alone, she opened her eyes and turned her head. Both Patrice and Griffin were watching them; Patrice was sitting much like Leah was, sprawled on her man’s lap. Her shirt was a snap-front western style, and Griffin had all the snaps open so that her bare chest glowed in the firelight, and Leah watched him play with Patrice’s breasts. They were big, with large, deep brown nipples. Her waist was trim and her belly flat. She was so beautiful.

  Patrice pushed her hands into her shorts, and then pushed her shorts off, letting them drop to the dirt and settling again, nearly naked, across Griffin’s legs. She put her hands between her legs, thrusting the fingers of one inside herself while the other rubbed her clit and Griffin stayed on her breasts. Her eyes never left Leah’s.

  Leah gasped—and then came, out of nowhere, arching up and making a strangled grunting noise that she understood was her own only as it ended.

  “Fucking Christ,” Gunner muttered at her ear. “Fucking Christ, you little sexpot. Are you shitting me?”

  Still caught in the twitching throes of her climax, Leah couldn’t find the words to ask if she’d done something wrong. She didn’t think she had. This felt right, and not in the who-gives-a-fuck-it-feels-good-go-for-it Ecstasy way. It felt…cozy. Intimate.

  Gunner’s arms went around her like iron bands. “Let me fuck you right here. Sweet fuck, let me have it right here.”

  She nodded, not bothering to think about it, and Gunner opened his jeans, pulled himself out, and lifted her up. She pulled her sweats down and grabbed hold of him, and they eased her onto him. His long groan as he filled her still-throbbing, hypersensitive sheath made her clench around him, and he grabbed her hips and surged upward with a bestial grunt.

  This time, it was more difficult to watch what Patrice and Griffin were doing, because Gunner felt so good and was moving her so hard that her eyes kept rolling up, but she knew that Griffin was inside Patrice, too; they were in the same position. When Patrice lifted her arms above her head and tangled her hands in Griffin’s hair, Leah mirrored her, not even quite on purpose. When Gunner’s hands left her hips and took hold of her breasts, Griffin’s hands did the same to Patrice.

  They didn’t all come together, Patrice and Griffin finished last, but by then it hardly mattered. Without sharing each other, they’d shared everything. Leah had never experienced anything like it.

  After it was over, they all decided to go inside, without saying a word. Gunner and Griffin worked to put out the fire, and Patrice and Leah collected the discarded cans and clothes. As they came together on their way to the cabin, Patrice stopped in front of Leah and kissed her on the mouth.

  Tongue and everything.

  Leah, stunned, kissed her back, then turned and shot a guilty look back at Gunner. Who was staring agog at her.

  Griffin was simply smiling, like he’d seen it all before.

  ~oOo~

  “You were pretty into that. Do you like girls?” Gunner sat on the edge of the bed while Leah changed into one of his old t-shirts, which she used as a nightshirt.

  “What? No. No. I’ve never had thoughts like that. Not even on E, I don’t think. I don’t know what I was feeling tonight.”

  “You liked it tonight, though.” A statement, not a question.

  “Yeah. But…but I was with you.” She shuddered. In retrospect, the whole thing felt a little weird. “Gunner, this is weirding me out. Please don’t ask me to do something with Patrice.” Or—yikes!—Patrice and Griffin both?

  Thankfully, Gunner was shaking his head. “No. I don’t want to share you. I just…if you wanted it, I’d be okay. With another girl, I mean. And me. I’ve done that before, been with two girls.”

  Okay, this conversation totally had to stop right this second. “Oh my gosh, please shut up! No! Ew!”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “There’s my Leah. That was hot as fuck, but I’d half thought Griff laced the weed.”

  That hadn’t occurred to her. “You think he did?”

  “Nah. It was just really good shit. Griff would say if it was more than that.” He held out his hand. “C’mere.”

  She went, and he pulled her onto his lap. “I’m not sharing you, Leah Grace Campbell. Not with anybody.”

  “And I’m not sharing you?” She didn’t know why it had come out as a question, and she didn’t like the cloud that moved through his blue eyes.

  “No, Lee. You’re not sharing me. Love you.”

  “Love you, too. Why are you still dressed? Aren’t you coming to bed?”

  His expression became serious at once. “Rad, Griff, and me, we’ve got some work to do up here tonight. We’ll be out a while.”

  “But it’s late!” It was pushing past midnight.

  “Sometimes our work happens late.”

  “What do you have to do?”

  Rather than answer her, he smoothed his hand down her hair and said, “Just go to bed, and we’ll be back when we’re done. Willa and Patrice will be with you.”

  “And you’re…what? Tucking me in? Did you know you had this work all the while?”

  He didn’t answer,
and Leah, for the first time since she’d known him, was truly angry with him. Sitting on his lap, she felt like a child. She pushed his hands away and stood up.

  “Don’t treat me like a child, Maxwell.”

  At the name he did not want her to use, he scowled and stood up to loom over her. “Don’t push this, Leah. I’m saying good night, not tucking you in. I’ve got work to do. You turn this into a fight, and you will be acting like a child. And I will treat you like one.”

  “Whatever,” she scoffed—and winced internally when she heard the word in the air.

  Derision sharpened Gunner’s laugh. “Right. Okay, grownup. I’ll see you later.”

  Knowing she was behaving exactly like what she didn’t want to be, she couldn’t stop herself. She was too angry. When he left and closed the door, she threw a shoe at it. His laugh then practically rattled the door.