Mayhem Madness: Reckless Bastards MC Series Books 1-7

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Mayhem Madness: Reckless Bastards MC Series Books 1-7 Page 6

by KB Winters


  “I can’t tell you what to do with your body, Jana. That’s just wrong on so many levels.”

  Times like this made me wonder why I so desperately wanted friends. “Fine, do you think it’s too soon to consider sleeping with Max?” I knew after the first kiss that I wanted to lose my virginity to him, because no man had ever made me feel so wanted. So desired. And if I was going to open my body up to a man, it would be one who made me feel like the most desired woman on the planet.

  “No, I don’t. He’s hot and clearly he’s hoping for a taste of you, I say go for it. Just go in with your eyes open.”

  I nodded as I put the risotto Milanese into a big ceramic bowl and covered it. Next was the chicken marsala and then tiramisu. “Meaning don’t fall for him?”

  “Fall for him if you want, it might do you some good. But before you decide, ask yourself if you’re okay with him walking away.”

  I froze. “You think he’s going to walk away?”

  “Honey no, but there’s always that chance with men. Usually we don’t know until it’s too late. I think you should go for it, but if you let whatever happens between you and Max color what happens for the rest of your life, you’ll regret it.”

  That didn’t really give me any answers. “Come on, Teddy, it’s not like guys are pounding down my door and certainly not men like Max. I want, just once, to have sex with someone who wants me. Not just any warm body.”

  “Then that’s your answer. Good luck and make sure you use condoms. Bye, love you,” she said in one breath and hung up before I could ask another six dozen or so questions.

  “Thanks Teddy,” I grumbled and put the tiramisu in the fridge. Max would be here in the next fifteen minutes and I still needed to get dressed. We were painting tonight so I couldn’t get too dressed up, but I opted for a lacy tank top to wear under my smock and a cute little denim skirt. It felt flirty and cute, like something a woman might wear on a first date. Or a third, if I didn’t chicken out.

  So maybe I kind of chickened out right away because when Max arrived, I already had on my painting smock. “I figured we could paint in the back until the sunsets. Then, we eat.”

  He grinned, a hungry look in his eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He walked beside me, our fingers lightly brushing as our hands swung back and forth. He smelled good, like what a man should smell like, outdoors and leather. Man and musk. I didn’t know what exactly it was, only that it made me want to flare my nostrils just to take in more of that intoxicating scent.

  “What are you going to paint tonight?” I didn’t want to paint, I wanted to sketch and I wanted to sketch him.

  He stopped dead in his tracks. “You mean you don’t have a nude model or a plate of cheese for me?”

  I laughed at his convincing delivery. “I would consider being your nude model but I’m afraid that the end result might give me body image issues.”

  He pouted and then his face transformed into a magnificent smile that made him look a decade younger. Lighter. Like a man without a care in the world, rather than a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “That’s a good point and we can’t have a body like yours thinking there’s anything wrong with it.”

  The man was potent and I had no protection against it. “Um, thank you.”

  “This is nice.” He stopped and looked around the yard where the lights strung throughout my trees were on, providing a soft glow to the early evening sun. “What are we painting?”

  “The setting sun.”

  He grinned again. “Sweet.”

  Quietly we both sat and began mixing paints and sliding our brushes across the canvas. I had bigger canvases than Moon had at her shop, but with the stunning view we had tonight, I didn’t think it would be a problem. When I snuck a glance to my left, Max had already began splashing red and orange paint across the canvas. His face was a rugged mask of concentration, so compelling that I knew I had to at least paint him now. I’d commit every plane of his face to memory to sketch later.

  “Shouldn’t you be watching the sky?” He grinned to show me he wasn’t bothered at all by my blatant staring.

  “Nah, you’re a much better subject.” I don’t know what possessed me to act so bold, but his gray eyes flared with desire each time I did. I felt like I had some kind of power in the moment, but just power to turn him on. He wore an outfit that looked more at home on fifties biker gangs rather than what he was, which was so much more than a man who belonged to a motorcycle club. A crisp white tee clung to his massive chest and arms, looking even starker white against skin that had seen too many days out in the sun, and jeans. Good lord the man did things for jeans I didn’t even think were possible. They hung low on his hips, hugged his thighs and ass and fell to a rumpled heap over a pair of well-worn leather motorcycle boots.

  My whole body lit up like the Vegas night sky just looking at him, and that had never happened. Not even when I did research online. But I forced my mind to focus on the canvas and to look only at Max as a subject. At least until we were done.

  Almost an hour later the sun had set and Max sat back. “I don’t think mine is gettin’ any better than this, sweetheart.”

  I leaned over and stared, stunned. “Max, this is really, really good.” He’d captured the sky just as real and three dimensional as it appeared. Hot and fiery, transforming the entire desert landscape around it. “Wow.”

  “Don’t blow smoke, honey.”

  I laughed. “Not to worry. Really, it’s great.” He still didn’t believe me, but that was okay. He would. If he stuck around, that is. “Dinner?”

  He grinned and leaned towards me. “First let me see yours.”

  I put up a token protest just because I wanted to feel the heat of his body and when he stood behind me, staring over my shoulder at his own face, I got just what I wanted. “I know I should’ve asked but you were so deep in concentration and the lines…well, I just had to. Be mad if you want, but I think it came out well.”

  “You’re wrong. It came out fucking incredible.” He leaned even closer and I knew what he was staring at, that small puckered scar just above his clavicle and before his shoulder. “You see a lot, Jana.”

  “From a lifetime of being an outsider.” On the plus side, it has turned me into a pretty good judge of character. “Let’s eat.” He laughed behind me, but followed me in, we dropped the paintings in the formal dining area I never used because the kitchen had better light.

  “Did you cook again?”

  “Nope. I ordered from Francesco’s. They have excellent food and I had too much to do to cook today.”

  “I would’ve taken you out to dinner,” he said, his tone sounded upset and I didn’t know why.

  “I’m sure you would have, but I invited you over and it is customary for the person who extended the invitation to provide food, isn’t it?” This moment and the uncertainty reminded me of the other reason I avoided relationships. There were all these emotional landmines you had to navigate, and the shit part was that you could do everything right and still get it wrong.

  “Yes. I don’t want you buying me dinner.”

  “Why? Is it because you’re a man or because you think I don’t have a lot of money?”

  He sighed and grinned as he raked a hand through his hair. “I am the man and I should buy you dinner.” He lifted a heaping spoonful of risotto into his mouth, chewing angrily.

  I understood now. I remembered in college, the other girls all fretting about what would happen if they had to buy their own meals when they’d spent all the money their parents had sent them. I didn’t have that luxury but I learned a lot about arbitrary relationship rules. “Fine, next time you come over, I expect to be fed. Happy?”

  He grinned. “Sure, Jana.”

  We both dug in, absorbing the creamy carb deliciousness, at least I assumed so based on the relative silence. It wasn’t’ an oppressive silence though and I didn’t mind. It felt right. Like we didn’t feel compelled to fill the silence.
>
  I was halfway through my second glass of wine, just enough to blur the edges but not enough to make me reckless. Or forgetful. “Max, I would like to have sex with you tonight.”

  He choked on the beer I’d bought for him. “What?”

  “I would like to have sex with you tonight.”

  “Um, okay?” He stared at me like he was waiting for something, but I had no clue what. “I would like to have sex with you too.”

  My shoulders relaxed. “Oh, good. But what’s so amusing?”

  “Nothing, you’re just very straightforward. I like it.”

  There was more, I could tell. Arms crossed I glared. “Tell me.”

  “I was just trying to figure out where would be the best place to start my seduction attempt.”

  “Really?” I had a feeling he was interested, but if he put this much thought into it, he must be as hungry as I am. He nodded. “You didn’t know?”

  “I wasn’t sure. I-I’m not good at those kinds of things.” But now that he’d mentioned it, I knew where we could start. “The sofa seems like a good place to start,” I offered up.

  He stood quickly, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the living room where he sat down and patted his lap. “Hop on.”

  I stared at him, mouth open in a way I was sure couldn’t be less attractive as I shook my head.

  Max laughed. “You’ll end up here anyhow, let’s just start there.” He said it so easily, so reasonably, I couldn’t possibly refuse. Could I?

  Hell no. I slid, knees first, onto his lap, gasping right away as the zipper covered steel rod between his legs nestled right between my own thighs. It was long and hard, too long and hard considering a pair of silky panties were all that separated us. “Max,” I moaned.

  “Yeah, this was the perfect place to start,” he said, smiling as one hand slid through hair I’d let airdry so it held sexy beach waves. The other hand slid up my thigh as he brought my head lower until our lips touched and then it was an exquisite inferno raging between us. It was so hot I could feel the smoke filling my lungs, feel the flames licking at my overheated skin as my body began to move in ways I didn’t think possible. His thumb grazed over my clit and I cried out.

  “Oh!” It was spectacular and it never felt that way when I did it. “Max,” I moaned as he slipped inside my panties, his warm hand, the rough pad of his finger gently rubbing at first, but his speed and intensity increased until it was a dance I seemed to know all the moves to as my hips rolled and I attacked his mouth the same way he attacked my body. With a single-minded focus. Pleasure.

  “Fuck, you’re so wet Jana.” He tore his mouth from mine, hand still caught in my waves as he held me firmly, gray eyes staring deep into mine.

  “I think you might have a little something to do with that,” I told him and licked up the column of his neck. He was so hard and strong, muscular everywhere and I wanted to explore. My hands went to his chest, grazing over sculpted pecs and down rock hard abs until I reached his waistband. Then I reversed the journey, sliding under that delectable white t-shirt so I could really feel his body. “You’re so big. So hard. I can’t believe this is a real body.” I sounded like a moron, but he felt surreal.

  “Honey it’s all real, and it’s all yours.”

  “Take off the shirt,” I ordered in a voice more commanding than I’d ever used in my whole life.

  He grinned and did as I requested. “Happy?”

  “Hell yes I’m happy. Max you’re, magnificent.” I leaned forward and slicked my tongue over the corded muscles between his neck and shoulder, lower to his pecs and the hard brown nipples that beaded under my efforts. The more he touched me, the more I wanted to touch and taste him. Every inch of him. “Oh, shit!” He sank a thick finger inside me and a low moan escaped.

  “Fuck you are so responsive.”

  “Is that bad,” I asked and nibbled his ear as he continued to finger me, hard and deep and fast.

  “No, it’s a damn turn on. If my cock gets any harder, I’ll probably hurt you.”

  That shouldn’t have given me shivers, but it did. Sorry if I’m betraying my feminist sisters, but I wanted him to fuck me until it hurt. “Okay,” I panted.

  “Say it again,” he commanded, his voice dark and demanding. Confident.

  “Okay,” I said, moaning when a second finger joined the first, stretching me deliciously. It felt a little awkward but I was so horny, so aroused that I couldn’t worry about that. “Oh, Max! Max!” Two fingers were buried deep while his thumb flicked over my clitoris and I couldn’t hang on a moment longer. I held his shoulders to keep me from floating away, because I was pretty sure it was about to happen…any moment now. My hips moved faster and faster, in time with his hand.

  “Fuck my hand, Jana. I want you to come all over me. Now,” he urged and nipped at the meat of my breast, sending me into an orgasm unlike any that had ever spilled out of my body. I’m sure some of it had to do with the fact that someone else was giving it to me, but there was something about this man that just knew how to work my body.

  “Oh. My. God. That was…,” a shiver stole out of me and a satisfied smile crossed his face.

  “It was hot as fuck is what it was,” he said, calm but with an edge as he pulled his fingers from my body. “But now, I need something else,” he said in a low, sexy voice and licked the fingers that had recently been deep inside me.

  “Holy hell.”

  He grinned and smacked my ass. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, babe. Bedroom?”

  I pointed down the hall.

  ***

  My chest heaved and my breath caught in my throat as I lay on the bed in nothing but the pale blue lingerie I’d put on a few hours ago while Max stood at the edge of the bed, a dark look on his face, his own chest heaving as his gaze raked over every inch of my overheated skin. “Fuck, Jana you’re gorgeous.”

  I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at his hyperbole and simply smiled. I knew what I looked like and it was enough that he wanted me. “I believe that’s my line, Max. You are…incredible.”

  He flashed a dark smile filled with raw, hungry need. His hand circled my ankle and lifted my leg, gray gaze never leaving mine as the hand slid up my leg to cup my calf all the way up to my thigh, gentle squeezes that felt like a massage if the massage was being given by the god of sex. His hands slid up and down my legs until my whole body felt like the epicenter of a burning log, hot enough to singe but there were no flames in sight. He inhaled deeply. “I can already smell how much you want me,” he groaned and just like that my legs began to come together. “Ah, ah, ah. Don’t hide from me. I love that I can smell your desire.”

  My skin flamed with his outrageous words. As much as I knew about the act of sex, there were plenty of specifics I hadn’t considered. Such as the smell of desire. “W-W-What does it smell like?”

  He grinned. “Like sex and woman. Desire.” His words left me too hypnotized to worry as he tugged my panties down my legs. “Like you want me as much as I want you.”

  Oh. “Well, I do.”

  He grinned that boyish grin that made my body and my heart do weird things I chose to ignore as his lips touched down on my ankles, behind my knees. The bones at either side of my hips. “Good. That’s very good, Jana.” His lips left a trail of white hot flames climbing my body. “Kiss me,” he demanded and I did all I could when a man as big and masculine and commanding as Max issued a command.

  I obeyed. I kissed him like his lips and tongue were the only things keeping me alive. I kissed him with a passion I didn’t know I possessed, cupping his face and devouring his beer and saffron scented mouth. “You’re an excellent kisser,” I told him like I had any authority on the topic.

  A lazy grin flashed. “You’re not too bad yourself.” Kisses rained down on me, my neck and shoulders. Grazing my collarbone gently before his mouth settled on the area of my breasts around the nipple without ever giving me the relief I truly sought. My back arched into his mouth and one hand cuppe
d his head to keep him right there, to urge him to move a fraction of an inch where I needed him.

  “Max,” I moaned and finally, blessedly, his lips wrapped around that puckered nub and pulled so deliciously I felt the tug between my legs. “Oh, yes!” Back and forth he went, the delicious pressure on my breasts better, more sensitive, than I could have imagined. It was as though an invisible string connected my breasts and my pussy, pleasure for one allowed pleasure for the other.

  “Yes, Jana. Tell me what you want.” His voice was harsh, low and gravelly as he kissed between my breasts and down my belly, his breath fanning the neatly trimmed hair above my pussy.

  “You, Max. I want…you!” My hips bucked off the bed when his tongue swiped through the moisture of my core. “Wow!” That felt incredible and weird and I didn’t know whether I wanted to move closer to him or farther away. He did it again and again and my feet began to tingle and I began to feel uncomfortable. “Wait, Max. Please.”

  He froze and looked up at me, eyes dark with desire and his hands gripping my thighs possessively. “Something wrong?”

  Hell yes. “No, it’s just you don’t…have to do that.” Teddy said guys didn’t like it and I didn’t want him to feel like he had to, especially when I felt so close to bursting.

  “I don’t have to taste you? What if I want to?”

  He couldn’t, could he? I didn’t believe it but I didn’t want to screw this up. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to his. “I’ve never done any of this before. Not this,” I motioned to his mouth hovering just inches from my most intimate area. “Not sex either. Any of it. But I want to, Max, with you.”

  He stared at me for a long time and I began to squirm, feeling like a science experiment gone wrong. Just as I had, hell even before the scar. The truth is that the scar had only made me feel like more of an outsider, already deemed an other because my parents had died. “How can that be?”

  I fell back on the bed and covered my face. “Max, I like you. Enough to sleep with you when I haven’t slept with anyone else ever, please don’t pretend with me. Not now. I couldn’t take it.”

 

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