Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6

by Mellett, Manda

  At one point I feel bold enough to ask, “How did you get that scar?”

  He looks puzzled.

  “Over your eye.” I tap my brow to show him.

  “Oh, that. Long, long time ago.” He leans in. “I could make up some story about single-handedly disarming an armed robber, fighting pirates or something. Sure, I could come up with something that sounds sexy, but I’ll start as I mean to go on. Total honesty. I was a four-year-old-kid, I got it by falling out of bed and smashing my head on my bedside table. Bled like a bitch.”

  Honesty. I like the sound of that.

  I like everything about this evening. It’s easy, companionable, with a promise of sexuality. As the end of our meal and our date approaches, it hits me with a start that I can’t remember having enjoyed myself so much with a man before. We might not have known each other long, but now I’m already counting him as a friend, and someone who could possibly become more.

  We’ve laughed, been serious, commiserated. Shared jokes and anecdotes in my case about co-workers, in his, his brothers. I’ve heard about Bitch, the cat who appears to be the boss of the compound, and even about the sweet butts who live there as well. I’d frowned when he’d mentioned them, but while he admitted he’d gone with them when he first patched in, having a woman to himself was more to his taste, and not one who’d been shared by all the men of the club.

  Skull had apparently spent nearly a year as a probationer, or prospect as he referred to himself, and has only become a patched member for the last couple of months. Another tell, a twitch of his cheek, and I gather there’s a story there he hasn’t yet told. But hey, this is our first date, and we’ve already talked about more coming after. I don’t need to learn everything tonight.

  I’d forgotten our age difference and why it had ever bothered me. And who gave a damn I was big and him slender? Now I’m getting to know him, if he finds my curves sexy, I’m certainly not going to argue. I’m not trying to hide so he’ll know what to expect when he eventually ends up in my bed.

  My bed. Where I’m currently lying. Alone.

  True to his word, Skull had dropped me home, not wanting to come in. He couldn’t trust me to keep my hands to myself, he’d said, while wearing a big wide grin and winking.

  Tomorrow night he’s providing security for one of their contracts, but on Sunday he’s going to take me out again.

  I can’t freaking wait.

  Totally unexpected, having predicted tonight would be a one and only, thinking either him or I, or both, would be bored, I’m already looking forward to the next time I see him. Skull seems far more mature for his years than his looks would have led me to believe.

  I really like him.

  I hadn’t anticipated doing so.

  I thought I’d have found his company tedious.

  I did not.

  His leaving me on the doorstep with just a peck on the cheek? I’d wanted more.

  Saturday passes far too slowly, and I try to occupy myself doing chores. I bake, of course, then notice the state of my oven and clean it. Anything to keep busy.

  When Skull pulls up on Sunday, I’m already at the door, having grabbed my purse when I heard his motorcycle’s engine roar. My eagerness is greeted with one of his cocky grins.

  As I’m unused to riding, he doesn’t want to take me too far. His choice of destination is again perfect, as we ride up into the forest where it’s cool. Once the bike is parked, we walk hand in hand along a shaded path with the sweet smell of a soft carpet of pine needles underneath, conversation flowing easily, never stopping.

  Suddenly Skull comes to a halt, his pause in steps ceasing my forward momentum. As I turn, it’s to see a gleam in his eyes.

  “Want to kiss you, Mel. That okay?”

  More than okay. The warning, though, has me swallowing nervously. First kisses can be awkward, not knowing what to expect. Where should I put my hands, for example? Does he expect tongues, or just a brush of our lips?

  To give myself a moment, I query the shortening of my name. “Mel?”

  His eyes darken, then he places his hands on my biceps and he pushes me until I’m pressed up against a tree. “Everyone else calls you by your full name. Want to have something for me.”

  Wow. Romantic or what?

  He pauses just a second longer, and then, his lips lower.

  I shouldn’t have worried, as he takes complete control. My hands naturally go to his shoulders and just hold on for the ride. His tongue invades, his taste immediately mingling with mine, our mouths meld together as though we’ve done this dance many times and this isn’t the first.

  The aroma of pine mingles with the leather of his cut as I now know his vest is called, and birdsong, which a moment ago sounded loud, now only just reaches my ears above my murmurs of appreciation, and his growls of encouragement.

  Time stops, my brain quiets, and all I can think of is how we are joined, mouth to mouth, his hands holding me close, mine grabbing onto his arms.

  I can feel his hard cock pressing into me, but he doesn’t grab my breasts or touch inappropriately.

  At last he pulls his head away, leaning down to place his forehead against mine. “When I get you in bed, you’re not coming up for air for a very long time,” he rasps against my skin. “Be warned, darlin’. Once you let me in, that’s where I’m stayin’.”

  There’s nothing about that statement of intent that concerns me at all.

  In fact, the words spill out of my mouth in a breathless gasp, “Your place or mine?”

  He chuckles, softly. “Yours, babe. I live at the club at the moment. But for now, how about another taste?”

  After that second kiss, and a few more as we make our way down the mountain, we arrive back at the bike. As he fastens the strap of the helmet under my chin, I find myself trying to picture how I left my place. Is there underwear strewn across my bedroom floor? I shaved my legs, are there hairs still in the shower tray? Is there makeup left around? That box of tampons isn’t still left out from last week is it?

  He stares into my eyes. “Doesn’t have to happen today, Mel. Not if it’s too soon.”

  The fact I’m worrying about all the insignificant things perhaps means that it is.

  The fact he doesn’t mind, shows me Skull is a good man.

  When he drops me off, Skull smooths his hand down the side of my face. “Can’t make it tomorrow or Tuesday, I’ve got work.” His grimace shows he’d prefer to spend time with me instead. “Wednesday we’ve got church, that’s our club meeting. But Thursday I can be all yours if you want.”

  I want. “How about I cook?”

  “Yeah?” he grins.

  I nod vigorously. “Any requests?”

  “Anything you come up with, I suspect will be great.” He leans in, adding, suggestively, “I’m particularly looking forward to dessert.”

  I turn bright red.

  The days pass oh so slowly. I can’t wait to see Skull again. Eventually it’s Thursday, and I leave work right on time.

  In preparation I cook something that is simple but tasty, that I can turn down and leave in the oven if necessary, and doesn’t take a lot of fluffing around getting up and down and taking stuff in and out of the oven. I make an apple pie and have whipped cream on standby, hoping that the dessert he’s thinking of means the pie goes uneaten.

  My house is spotless, everything in its place, and nothing left out that could cause me embarrassment. I’m excited as I wait for him to arrive.

  I’m wearing a knee-length floral dress that’s as flattering as anything I own.

  A knock on the door.

  When he steps inside, it seems symbolic.

  He sniffs the air. “Smells good.” Then he turns his heated eyes on me, looking from my head to my feet, his gaze lingering on my breasts for a moment. He swallows. “You look amazing. Tell me, are you wearing panties?”

  My brow scrunches, and I shrug.

  “Go take them off. I want to eat dinner knowing I’ve got d
essert ready and waiting for me.”

  No man ever has asked me to do something so risqué. Oh, I’ve read such things in books, but the men I’ve been with have had their meal, and only then started their version of foreplay which may or may not have been successful in getting me aroused. That Skull’s kicking off this night, making our dinner something that whets our carnal appetites as well as filling our stomachs makes me feel immediately aroused.

  And, playful.

  Instead of retreating to my room, I keep my eyes on his, bend, and sliding my hands under my dress, discreetly remove my panties right there in the hallway. When he holds his hand out, I place them in it.

  Then gasp, as he sniffs them, breathing in deeply. “Oh yes, I’m looking forward to what I’ll be tasting later. Mmm mmm.”

  Did he just do that? Did he really just sniff my underwear?

  I stand gawking a little too long, as he chuckles. “Is that your oven beeping?”

  Shit it is! I turn and run into the kitchen, turning the heat right down. “Want to…” I start calling out, only to find he’s come in behind me.

  “What do you need me to do, darlin’?”

  A man offering to help in the kitchen? Skull’s already getting straight As tonight.

  “Nothing, really. I’ve got the table set. Want to eat now, or…”

  “Now,” he decides. “Then you, we, can relax.”

  We eat, talk, laugh. All the time he’s fixing me with those dark eyes full of promise. Cool air from the air conditioner seems to flow under my skirt each time I get up or down to fix the food, reminding me I’m wearing no panties. Just his stare is enough to make me grow wet, and I squirm, feeling my own moisture on my thighs.

  “Fuck, woman, you make it difficult.”

  I tilt my head to one side.

  “I’m rock hard, thinking about you all but naked under that dress.” His eyes meet mine once again. “Take off your bra.”

  “What?”

  He waves his hand. “Bet you can do that thing all women do. Remove it without getting undressed.”

  Well, of course I can. I shoot him a look of disdain and proceed to prove it. It’s front fastening, so I manage to put my hands demurely down the front of my dress, and undo the clasp, then slip the straps down my arms and slide it out through one arm hole.

  “Give.” He holds out his hand, and I pass it across the table, a slight wave of discomfort going through me as it’s not dainty and small.

  His eyes lock on mine, and then, suddenly, his vest is slipping down his arms and he’s half turned to place it over the back of his chair. Then, one hand goes to the back of his neck and oh sweet Jesus, his tee comes off and he’s sitting at my table, completely naked from the waist up. I’d already felt the hardness of his torso, but now I see his amazing six pack, confirming this is a man who works out.

  As if nothing’s happened he asks, “Pass me the salad?”

  I think he has had to voice his request a couple of times before I can bring myself to move and do as he’s asked.

  Suddenly replete with sufficient food, I place my fork down.

  His gaze meets mine and slowly, he nods.

  Chapter Six

  Melissa

  I’ve become comfortable with Skull, used to his company, but I still expected to feel gauche the first time we went to bed. I mean, what’s a man like this going to expect? I’m no siren, my experience has been of a very vanilla variety, and with not too many men. Skull has got an assurance and confidence that I’ve not come across with anyone else. I think he’s cocky, but I also believe he’s probably entitled to be and will know what to do with his equipment and won’t disappoint.

  When he gets up and stalks to the end of the table, I can’t help but lick my lips. His jeans are low-slung and as I had expected, there’s the outline of a delicious V leading downwards.

  “My eyes are up here,” he smirks, while holding out his hand. “Where’s your bedroom, sweetheart? First time I think we’ll use your bed. We’ll try out the table, counter, and other possibilities later.”

  Later as in another day? Or, later tonight? My gut clenches in anticipation.

  Automatically I place my hand in his, then lead him into my bedroom. He stares at my bed, then smiles.

  I suddenly suck in a breath. He’s got my bra and panties, and the only thing I’m now wearing is my dress and a smile. If it’s a choice between losing one or the other, well, my lips immediately turn down into a frown.

  He walks me backward until my legs hit the foot of the bed.

  “Lie down.” His voice seems to have dropped an octave.

  I obey, first sitting, then lying back, expecting him to follow me down, but no. In one smooth action he’s pulled up my dress, baring my lower half to him. I suck in air, feeling tears prick at the backs of my eyes knowing he’s seeing thick tree trunk thighs and a roll of fat over my stomach.

  “Fuckin’ beautiful, Mel,” he says fast, getting in before I can apologise.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to stop my brain from forcing a catalogue of what’s wrong with me out of my mouth.

  “I’ve waited far too fuckin’ long for this, not waiting any longer now.”

  Jesus. His mouth is there. His fingers too. His tongue circles my clit, then licks me. I already knew I was wet, now he’s making me voice appreciative sounds as more cream comes from me, summoned forth by his expert touch. His voice vibrates against me as he tells me again how beautiful I am, how my skin is soft, just how he likes it and that he’s a man who doesn’t like angular bodies with bones sticking out, adding how much he likes my curves.

  His words thrill me, nothing there to suggest I’m any kind of disappointment at all.

  Part of my brain wonders where and how he’s learned the tricks he’s bringing into play. It’s as if he knows precisely what a woman wants. Fingers and tongue work in unison and very soon I’m nearing the edge. My last thought before giving in entirely to sensation is if they could make a vibrator as talented as his touch, there’d be no need for men at all.

  “Oh God, Skull. Skull, yes, there, Skull.” I cry out, words escaping with no conscious thought. “Skull, oh Skull. Skull.”

  I hover for a second just nearing my peak, stay there until the right pressure on my clit sends me completely over.

  I see stars and my lungs heave.

  Before I’ve recovered, he’s lifted my hips, then pulls my upper torso off the bed, and before I can stop him has completely removed my dress. Somewhere along the way his jeans have come off, and I now have a very naked man straddling my thighs, wearing nothing but the smile on his face, and that glowing look which darkens, dilating his pupils as he feasts his eyes on my chest. My very, ample, chest.

  His hands almost shake as they reach out to touch, pillowing my breasts, one in each hand. He flicks his thumbs across my nipples, his smile becoming a knowing grin at my sharp intake of breath.

  “Fuckin’ gorgeous. Real woman’s breasts.”

  “Too big,” I counter.

  “Not a thing, babe. Not as far as I’m concerned.”

  I’m not going to protest. If having to carry these motherfuckers around gives him this much pleasure, I’ll stop complaining about them. As he continues to play with my chest, I lie back and enjoy it.

  Honestly, I think I’m close to coming again when he sucks first one nipple then the other between his teeth.

  “Skull, Skull.” I arch my back, pressing more of me into his mouth.

  “Uh uh. My turn now.”

  His warmth moves away, and I hear the crackle of plastic, and then raise my head to see him slide a condom down a slightly longer than average, though not too thick dick.

  Perfect.

  Then he’s lining himself up and sliding home.

  I’m wet, he pushes in easily.

  At first languid strokes, then he speeds up, then he’s hammering as he chases his release and I’m crying out, so, so close.

  I need more, so I take it, reaching do
wn myself.

  “That’s it, babe. Fuckin’ love you playing with yourself. That’s it,”

  Then his voice changes to grunts, and I’m almost there myself.

  His body presses in hard, he groans and stops, one more rub and my muscles are clutching at his cock.

  “Fuck, babe, fuck, that’s good.”

  We stay like that for a moment, both trying to regain our breath. When he gets up and goes to dispose of the condom, I’m glad he’s the one who’s had to leave the bed. Me? I can’t move.

  Skull ends up spending the night. We have sex again later, then I wake to an early morning booty call which I certainly don’t object to.

  Then he leaves to do whatever his club wants of him, with a promise to come back the next evening.

  The thought did cross my mind that now that he’s got what he wanted, he’ll give up the chase and I won’t see him again. But I’m proved wrong. Over the next couple of weeks, we see each other almost every day. He takes me out as much as we stay in. When it’s the latter, I cook for him, for once happy to prepare meals for a man. He pays me back handsomely with orgasms, so I have no complaints.

  Sex stays great, if anything it gets better as we get to know what each other likes. I give head as it’s expected, and Skull doesn’t hide his obvious enjoyment even if he knows I prefer him to pull away before he comes.

  We go out with Beth and her friend. Skull doesn’t seem to object at all at being subjected to girly talk. He’s come along and met my co-workers again a couple of times. The one thing which bothers me is while I’m letting him into my world, he’s not reciprocating. I’ve yet to meet any of his club brothers.

  One day, I overhear his side of a phone call.

  “Yeah, I’ve found someone.” His eyes catch mine. I get up to leave, but he shakes his head.

  “Not yet. But soon I hope.”

  “Yeah, I think she’ll fit. Hopefully Demon’s woman will take to her. Yeah, we’ll speak later.”

  He replaces his phone in his cut and raises his eyebrow at the curious look on my face.