Hooked (Viking Bastards MC)

by Christina Phillips

  I almost drop the damn condom. He has the body of a god, and he knows it.

  “You like giving orders, don’t you?” I avoid the spray as I make my way back to him, as I don’t want the condom getting soaked and useless. He doesn’t answer right away. Then I’m standing between his legs, visually feasting on him and relishing every second.

  “Do it.” He growls the words and I look up at him. His beautiful eyes are almost black with lust but there’s a definite challenge there, too. I guess his refusal to answer my question is all the answer I need.

  It doesn’t even piss me off. No matter what he says or does, I find it all breathlessly arousing.

  I roll the condom over the engorged head of his cock, loving the sound of his sharp intake of breath. He pulls me toward him and I straddle his lap, his length pressing against my sensitive folds, and my heels on the seat behind him.

  He caresses my back and shoulders and neck, and then dips between my butt cheeks. I shudder and grasp his hair. I swear if he keeps going I’ll come before he even gets near my pussy. I give another involuntary shiver and grind myself along his length in a hopeless effort to relieve the building pressure.

  “You plan on riding me anytime soon?”

  I pause mid-grind as his words penetrate my lust soaked mind. That’s exactly what I want to do. Why don’t I just do it?

  “I’m working up to it.” More like trying to figure out how to manage it without sliding off his lap and onto the floor.

  He grunts, palms my ass, and lifts me. “Fuck me now, princess.”

  Okay, that works. I grin at him, and he must think I’m crazy but I don’t care. I hover over his cock for a couple of tantalizing seconds until he bares his teeth and snarls.

  Actually. Snarls. It’s so freaking hot I forget about trying to be a tease and sink down onto him. Oh, my Lord. My head lolls back, my eyes close, and my mouth opens, but I can’t help it. He fills me so completely, and I’m almost afraid to move in case I shatter into a million tiny pieces.

  Zach obviously has no such fear. He grasps my hips to keep me exactly where he wants me and takes me with such force I can’t even think anymore. I cling to his shoulders, taking it all, and my breasts bounce with every frenzied thrust. When he slips his hand between our slick bodies and brushes his finger over my clit, I fall apart, my voice hoarse as I cry out.

  He’s right there with me, and his whole body goes rigid as he pumps his release, never ending, mind-blowing. I fall forward and rest my forehead on his. All I can hear is our rasping breath and the sound of my heartbeat in my head, and it just feels…right.

  Chapter Five

  Zach

  I stir, my arm wrapped around a naked woman in my bed. For half a second I think I’m still asleep, before I remember and a satisfied smile cracks my face.

  Grace.

  I cup her tit and idly play with her nipple. She gives a soft sigh and wriggles her ass against my dick, and I bury my face in the curve of her neck. She smells of Grace and sex, and I’m ready for more.

  Except the light’s all wrong.

  I roll onto my back and squint at the time on my cell. Shit. It’s nearly midday, and even though it’s Sunday and technically my day off, I’m due at the clubhouse in an hour. I wouldn’t give up the promise of another fuck with Grace for anything but my club, so with a smothered sigh I amble to the bathroom, throwing her a glance over my shoulder.

  Her red hair’s splayed across my pillows. Looks even better than I imagined. I very nearly fling back the sheet and give her a quickie while she’s still asleep, but I know once she wraps those legs around me I’ll lose all track of time.

  My cock’s more than ready for action as I step into the shower and scrub my body. I like her scent on her, but I smell like a fucking flower.

  By the time I stroll back into the bedroom, with only a towel slung low on my hips, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a sexy as hell silky top and boxers that show off her curves and legs like she’s a lingerie model. The relief from my hasty jack-off five minutes ago vanishes. I grab her hand and pull her to her feet.

  She wraps her arms around me, and the heat of her body, combined with the cool of the silk, short-circuits my brain. I kiss her like I’m starving, and have already inched the narrow strap of her top over her shoulder when my cell buzzes.

  I swear violently, and she goes rigid. I nibble her throat until her muscles relax and then pull back. Hardest thing I’ve ever done. Especially when I see her sleepy-eyed take-me-now gaze.

  “Hold that thought.” I crawl across the bed and snatch up my cell. Seeing Grace again made me forget about church, but I’m not late so why would one of my brothers be texting me?

  They’re not. It’s a message from Kat.

  U staying in bed all day or what

  I glare at the screen, but the moment’s gone. In a way it’s a good thing. How did I forget the reason why I’d left Grace in bed in the first place?

  She clears her throat, and I look at her as I make my way to the closet. She gives me a real weird smile.

  “Well, thank you for having me. I mean—for letting me stay the night.” Her face goes pink, the way it has a couple of other times when she’s said something cute, and I laugh. She doesn’t appear to find it funny, though, since she folds her arms and looks everywhere in the room but at me.

  “Having you”— I emphasize the words and she kind of winces—“was a real pleasure, princess.”

  “Likewise.” She gives a strange little nod and then appears fascinated by the way I’m tugging on my jeans. “So, anyway. If I could just use your shower again that would be great.”

  I frown as I pull on a T-shirt. Is she asking me a question? “Sure you can use the shower. You know where it is.”

  “Yes, but…” She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “Never mind. I just want to say I really enjoyed last night. I’m glad I walked into Odin’s and met you.”

  There’s been a couple of chicks I’ve picked up in the past who went all psycho on my ass the following morning, thinking we had something special between us. I don’t get that vibe from Grace. Sounds more as though she’s saying some kind of classy good-bye.

  I don’t know why that pisses me off.

  “You leaving?” I grab my cut from the closet so she doesn’t get the wrong idea and think I want her to stay or some shit like that. Except I haven’t had enough of her yet. So technically I guess that means I don’t want her to go.

  “That was the plan. My cell’s charged now.”

  I eye her from across the room. Before our shower fun, I called a brother and we put one of our prospects on night duty to make sure Grace’s car didn’t end up as scrap metal. The plan, as I recall, involved me fixing her car today.

  “You changed your mind about wanting me to take a look at your Merc?” Why the fuck am I pushing it? If I’m that crazy for pussy I can get some at the club after church.

  “Oh.” She raises her eyebrows as though I’ve surprised her. “I didn’t think you meant it. Would you really not mind taking a look? I’m happy to pay for your time.”

  That’s the second time she’s offered to pay me for services rendered. On the other hand, she’s just asked me to look at her car. My irritation at the way she seems to think I want money before I’d help her fades.

  “I don’t say something if I don’t mean it.” I shove my cell into my pocket. “You need to be anywhere today?”

  She holds my gaze, and a small smile plays around her lips. “Are you asking me to stay?”

  I shrug, partly to show her I don’t give a shit whether she stays or goes, but mostly to hide the fact this is new territory for me. If a chick hangs around without demanding anything, a casual hookup can sometimes result in a replay. Or five. But I’ve never invited any of them to stay at my place.

  “I’m sorry.” She doesn’t sound at all sorry, and my hackles rise. “I don’t want to intrude, or jump to conclusions. If you want me to stay another night
I’d love to, but if not, that’s cool. I just don’t want to play guessing games.”

  It’s not often—make that never—that a woman leaves me speechless, but Grace comes damn close. I grin, can’t help it, because the hottest chick I’ve ever fucked is happy to stay another night, no strings attached.

  “Stay,” I tell her. “We’ve unfinished business.”

  …

  After checking her car is still in one piece, I ride to the clubhouse. It’s not that far from where I grew up and still live, although still on the wrong side of town as far as Grace is concerned. The two-story building is set well back from the road with a fair bit of land surrounding it, and has been a part of my family since my grandfather’s time.

  Yeah, I’m a third generation Viking Bastard and proud of it.

  I pull up on the forecourt where several bikes are already parked. As I dismount I give the nod to a couple of my brothers and stroll toward them. Joel, who’s been hanging around the club for the last year hoping to make prospect, joins us, and because I’m feeling all mellow and shit, I give him the nod, too.

  He grins like a fucking puppy, and I snort with laughter before returning my attention to the others.

  “Sounds like I should’ve gone to Odin’s last night.” Ty grins, and it’s obvious he and Cade have both heard about Grace from Joel.

  “Fuck you,” Cade says. “If I’d been there, neither of you would’ve stood a chance.”

  I smirk but don’t say anything, and that’s enough to let them know this chick isn’t up for discussion.

  “The bitch was real hot,” Joel says. I whip round, and my fist smashes his face before I even think. He drops like a stone, and I’m only distantly aware that both Ty and Cade step back.

  “Fuck.” Joel spits blood and staggers to his knees. “Didn’t mean any disrespect, Zach. I—”

  “Did I say you could get up?” My voice is deadly calm, and I claw back the urge to grind my boot in the mouthy bastard’s face.

  He freezes on his hands and knees, real fear in his eyes now. Fucker doesn’t know what fear is. I turn my back on him, and my brothers flank me as we make our way inside the club.

  It’s been my second home since I made prospect nine years ago, but even before I hit eighteen I used to frequently hang out here with my old man. He was Sergeant-at-Arms before he was jailed, and died inside defending the Bastards’ honor.

  The clubhouse is nothing fancy, but the display of framed photos over by the bar—some of them dating back fifty years to when this Charter was first formed—always fills me with purpose and a strange sense of peace.

  Not today, though. No one trashes my girl. Prick’s gonna wish he never set foot inside Odin’s last night.

  We enter a room at the back of the club where a solid wood table in the center dominates the space. Everyone but our president is already there, including my brother Gage, who gives me the nod. I sit next to him, and when Jett strolls in and takes his place at the head of the table, I push Grace from my mind and focus.

  Church is usually held on Tuesday evenings, but Jett and a couple of others are heading to Florida in the morning for talks with our chapter there. Finally, Jett gets to the last item on the agenda.

  “Joel Gray. Any objections to bringing him in as a prospect?”

  Seven brothers indicate they have no objections. Jett looks right at me. “Zach?”

  Too right, I do. “He’s not ready.”

  Jett leans back in his chair. “Is that right.”

  “Shithead needs to learn some respect.”

  Our president shrugs. “Motion to bring Gray in as prospect denied.”

  …

  Grace

  I fuss with my hair until it looks just right, then frown at my reflection in the small mirror above the en suite sink. The pale green dress with the cute matching jacket is something I bought to wear over the Thanksgiving weekend, but if this is my last day with Zach then I want to make sure he remembers me for looking good and not bedraggled the way I was when I walked into Odin’s.

  If this is my last day with him? What’s that supposed to mean? Of course it is. First thing in the morning, assuming he can fix my car, I’ll be out of here, never to return.

  I dab perfume on my wrists, but the thought won’t shift, even though it’s completely crazy. I should’ve left early this morning, instead of dozing in Zach’s arms, enjoying the feel of his strong arms around me. Then he wouldn’t have had the chance to ask me to stay, and I wouldn’t be standing here agonizing over whether I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  Last night I’d known he was big, bad, and dangerous. But when he crawled across the bed earlier and I saw his back, I nearly died. “Viking Bastards” was tattooed above the image of a Viking head, complete with horned battle helmet and raven. In case that wasn’t enough evidence, when he left the room I saw a replica of the tattoo on the back of his leather vest, except “California” was also emblazoned along the bottom.

  He’s not just a tough guy who’s into motorcycles. He’s a member of a club.

  A shiver chases over my arms and I’ve no idea whether it’s because I can’t believe I had the best sex of my life with a possible criminal, or whether it’s simply the sheer thrill that a tattooed rebel has given me so many orgasms that I’ve lost count.

  If I had any sense I’d leave now, while he’s out. He doesn’t know anything about me—doesn’t even know my last name, which can only be a good thing, since if the press got hold of this story they’d have a field day.

  Zach wouldn’t sell the story to the press.

  No, he wouldn’t, but the principle’s the same. If our business rivals discovered Mulholland’s squeaky clean daughter hooked up with a member of a biker gang for a dirty weekend, I don’t think Dad would ever forgive me.

  It appears my good sense is still MIA because not only do I not care what my dad might think about it, there’s no way I’m leaving when I can spend another night with Zach.

  This secret world, where I can do and say whatever I like, is so much more fun than my real one.

  My sister isn’t going to believe a word of this when I tell her.

  I’m still smirking when I enter the kitchen. It drops off my face pretty fast when a dark-haired girl, wearing tiny denim shorts and a tight-fitting crop top and sitting on the counter, gives me a withering glare.

  “Uh, hi.” I offer her what I hope is a friendly smile, since this must be Zach’s younger sister. For some reason I’d imagined her to be a teenager, but she doesn’t look that much younger than me. I hope she didn’t notice me staring at the 3D butterfly tattoo on her collarbone. One wing is raised and there’s a shadow beneath. It’s a work of art, just like Zach’s bald eagle. “You must be Kat.” I hope you’re Kat…

  She gives me a deliberate once over, from the top of my head to the new shoes I bought to go with the outfit. The curl of her lip suggests she doesn’t think much of any of it, let alone me.

  “Must I?” She flicks her gaze from me as though it’s too much effort to engage, then picks up a half-full bottle of beer and takes a long swallow before deigning to look my way again. “You leaving now?”

  Unlike my sister, I’m not into confrontation, which of course explains why I’ve let my parents dictate my life for the last twenty-five years, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let Kat’s attitude deprive me of a much needed shot of caffeine.

  I stroll into the kitchen with more confidence than I actually feel. “No. Zach asked me to stay another night. Is there any coffee?” I can’t see a coffee machine.

  She stares at me, the beer bottle an inch from her mouth. “He asked you stay another night?”

  She sounds shocked, as though he rarely has women stay over. It shouldn’t make any difference, but a thrill still races through me at the possibility he doesn’t bring every woman he hooks up with back here.

  Get a grip, Grace. This is nothing but a one-night stand times two.

  “He offered
to take a look at my car. It broke down,” I add, since I feel an explanation is necessary, and Kat looks as though I’ve just spouted ancient Greek. “That’s why he suggested I stay over last night.”

  Her eyebrows rise in clear disbelief. “My brother doesn’t take in charity cases unless there’s something in it for him.”

  “Oh, there was definitely something in it for him.” I smile sweetly, even while I can’t quite believe the words that just fell out of my mouth. At least that thaws some of Kat’s ice, as she gives a little huh of laughter before hopping down from the counter and sauntering over to me.

  “Zach told me to be nice to you.” She hooks her thumbs into the pockets of her shorts. “D’you know how often he’s said that to me about girls he sleeps with?”

  Is this a trick question? “I’ve no idea.”

  “Never.” She gives me a challenging look. “What’s so special about you, then?”

  His request for his sister to be nice to me takes on a whole new level of meaning. It’s hard keeping the smile off my face, but I have the feeling Kat’s testing me. No idea why she’d even want to, since it’s obvious Zach can take care of himself, but on the other hand, it’s sort of sweet.

  I think they’d both kill me if I said that, so I shrug as if her question hasn’t just made my imagination go into hyperdrive.

  “Guess you’d need to ask him that.”

  “No, thanks. I don’t want his explanation of what makes a pussy so irresistible to him.”

  From anyone else her comment would sound like an insult, but I have the strangest conviction she doesn’t mean it to be taken as one.

  “No, that would be gross.” I might talk sex with my sister, but I can’t see myself doing that if I had a brother. “You never know. Maybe he just wants more of my fascinating conversation.”

  Kat grins, and finally appears completely genuine. “That would be a no. Just a friendly heads-up, but my brother doesn’t have conversations with chicks. In case you’re hoping for anything more than a mindless screw.”

  Okay, I have never had a conversation like this with anyone. My head’s telling me to get out of there, but for some reason I don’t want her thinking I’m entirely clueless when it comes to what Zach does and doesn’t want.