by Rie Warren
Then I slavered up over that wide girth, that iron length. I stopped before reaching the blood-hot head and pulled his dick down. I drew my mouth all up and down his shaft, swishing my tongue from side to side and bathing him in drool I let spool from my mouth.
When I let his cock go, it thudded heavily—wetly—against his stomach. He spattered preejaculate all over the treasure trail of hair there.
I started again at the root, spreading wet kisses up and up and up, stopping to suck at his frenulum. When I reached his deep purple glans, I pulled back and lifted his steely pole upright.
Thumb twirling around his PA piercing, I asked, “Is this your . . . lure?”
“Oh, shit. He told you.” Saint’s gruff voice cracked and crackled.
And then he went silent, mouth parted, as I licked and slurped his cock like it was a melting popsicle on a hot summer day.
“Don’t worry, Saint. I know you were on your best behavior today.” I nipped the ridge of his cockhead. “Now it’s time to be bad.”
Sucking him down, I moaned as his precum coated my tongue with a flavor that made me hot. Halfway was all I could take him, but I made sure to slather him good—wetly—with my saliva. My fist, folded around the base and jacking him, made a squelching noise, just like my pussy would.
I watched as his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared and his lids drifted down over black-green irises. Each of his grunts and groans was muffled. I knew he didn’t want to wake MJ or Caleb, but the bedframe squeaked every time he shifted, body becoming stiff and taut.
By now, my body was absolutely on fire too. My pussy swelling and soaked. My nipples aching.
“I want you on my mouth.” Eyes mere slants, he spoke from the depths of his chest.
“Do you?” I peered at him before rising up on my knees, my whole bare body his to feast on.
At least visually.
Ragged breaths gusted in and out of his chest when I slid one fingertip down through my cleavage. I circled a plump nipple then dragged my finger over my belly and into my slit.
I gasped, maintaining eye contact, when I plunged two fingers inside my heated sex.
Saint strained forward, shoulders like boulders of rock, and I pulled my fingers from my slit. A slippery strand of my juice held connected then snapped, and I dripped down the insides of my thighs. His pelvis pumped up, and I leaned over to bring my wet fingers to his mouth.
Hungrily lunging, he sucked my taste away, teeth scraping as he let loose a growling snarl.
I knew he wanted more.
I did too.
Lifting one leg over his groin then the other, I straddled him. I braced a hand on his heaving chest then angled his cock as I perched on top of him.
“Condom,” he rasped out.
“Not yet.” I swiped his thick head along my labia—hissing when his piercing kissed against my clit—then notched his cock right where I needed him. “I want to feel you like the first time. Bare.”
With slow grinding patience, I sank down on his big cock, reveling in the mighty feel of him once again spreading me open as that amazing piercing raked along my pleasure points.
“Fuck.” He groaned, neck straining back, the cords standing out.
His cock was scorching hot and steely hard, and I impaled myself all the way.
Panting heavily, I arched my back. I grinded right there with him buried deep. A hot flash came right over me, and with one more slight motion, he hit something inside, his thick root scraping along my clit.
And I came, my body writhing uncontrollably.
I heard him swearing, his knees pushing up behind me as his cock flexed in my spasming cunt.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Honoré. If you don’t get a condom on me—” He stopped to thrust up, and I savored the pleasure-pain.
Sitting back up, I leaned over him. His teeth scraped along my neck and sank into my shoulder. I grabbed a foil from my bedside table. I’d stocked up for him. Extra-large.
Rising off his straining rod, I almost wept at the empty feeling.
He growled, watching my trembling hands work the condom over his throbbing length. Then I climbed back on. I took him all the way in one mind-blowing lunge.
Rocking up and down on top of him, I rode him hard and fast, my ass slapping against his thighs.
I pressed forward, my breasts to his chest, and quickly untied him so he could do with me whatever he wanted.
And he roared at being free.
He wanted to fuck.
In seconds, he was devouring my tits. He held me by my hips, pistoning me up and down.
All that strength. All those rippling muscles. All that cock slamming into me . . .
His onslaught of kisses moved to my mouth, and we swallowed each other’s groans and moans. I came again—trying to tear my lips free—but he kept me right against him, tongue slashing and cock throbbing with one hand cranked against the back of my head and the other squeezing my ass and holding me down.
His body tightened all over just like mine, and the deep pulsations of his cock as he unloaded inside me made my orgasm linger.
Finally breaking apart, we both breathed heavily.
My forehead slid against Saint’s, and he slowly laid his head back.
His hands skimmed up my back that was slippery with perspiration, and he swallowed thickly.
“Damn, baby. You’re makin’ me sex crazy.”
“It’s my fault you fuck so good?”
His eyes slit open, and I could’ve drowned in those rich mossy depths.
He nudged me with his nose until my mouth pressed down upon his again.
The kiss he delivered had my tummy fluttering anew.
“Only like this with you, Honoré.” He held me down by my hips and bucked into me one more time.
I hissed before slowly disengaging from his thick shaft. My pussy was flushed, and I could feel it was swollen . . . so well serviced.
Glancing down, I saw how full the tip of the condom was with his cum.
I wished I could have it in me.
I should’ve made him come on me again.
He ran a knuckle over my mouth, drawing my gaze away from his cock that didn’t seem spent at all.
As he kissed me tenderly, I felt his arms move.
He blindly snapped off the rubber then tossed it somewhere in the vicinity of my trashcan.
Drawing me close, he flipped back the top covers and made a nest of his arms and legs beneath.
I lay in his arms, wrapped around his chest.
I was almost dozing when he asked, “Is Caleb musical like you?”
“He likes to mess around on the instruments, especially the piano and my guitar.” I rose to my elbows. “I usually have to retune them afterward.”
“But don’t you give him lessons and shit?”
“Not until he asks. I don’t want to force him. It has to come from him.”
Smoothing the hair back from my face, Saint looked at me earnestly. “Do you have any idea what an awesome mom you are?”
I blinked quickly at the unexpected compliment. No one besides Momma Joan had ever come close to saying anything like that.
I realized I could very easily fall for Saint.
Heck, I already had.
Lacing our fingers together, I played with his chunky rings. “The only thing I don’t want for him—besides the obvious like a life of crime—is to be in a motorcycle gang.”
Saint froze.
“Not because of you.” I hurried to explain. “Or Blood Legion. But you know that you guys are . . . there aren’t a lot of clubs like that. I don’t want the outlaw MC thing to be Caleb’s legacy.”
Relaxing again, he placed my hand against his chest where his sure heart beat beneath my palm. “I get that. You just want the best for him.”
I hummed in agreement then aimed a sly smile at him. “I took some pictures of you today.”
“Me?” His head cranked up.
“You and Caleb fishing.” I hadn�
�t been able to resist.
They’d looked so adorable together. Or rather, Caleb had looked adorable next to the tall goateed man, trying to imitate his every move.
“Can I see them?”
“If you get my phone out of my shorts.”
He hopped right up, naked and unabashed.
I whistled as he strutted to my discarded shorts, watching the long lines of muscle flexing all over his beautiful body.
The myriad tats did nothing to detract from his hotness. In fact, even the huge Blood Legion emblem of his backpiece made my blood run with more fiery lust.
“Enjoy the show, did you?” He returned to settle back on the bed, passing me the phone.
I eyed the tent his resurgent cock made beneath the sheet. “You know I did.”
Flicking on my phone, I passed it to him, and he went right to the camera roll from today.
An entire range of emotions passed across his features as he looked at each picture. He grinned when he saw the one of him and Caleb squatting near the bayou’s edge, digging for worms. That wide grin softened at the photo of him helping Caleb cast the reel. Then Saint swallowed audibly when he came to the one of both of them laughing in the bright sunlight as they hauled the bass up onto the dock.
How strange, how much better it would’ve been if my son had a father like this man right next to me.
Saint’s voice was gruffer when he gave me back the phone to ask, “Send ’em to me?”
“Really?” I didn’t think he could tug at my heart any harder.
He nodded silently.
We settled back down in the bed, cuddling comfortably. I was just about to turn out the light when I heard the telltale thunder-rumble of a bunch of motorcycles.
“Did you hear that?” Saint went from laying down one second to jumping from the bed and yanking on his jeans in the next. “Maybe it’s the guys. Maybe there’s something wrong at Thunder Road.”
I had a sinking sensation the bikes didn’t belong to Blood Legion at all.
Hurrying up after Saint, I quickly donned my robe.
I’d just belted the sash when my worst fears were confirmed.
Someone started pounding on the front door so hard the whole house shook. Then came the ugly shout, “This is what happens, you bitch, when you keep me from my kid!”
Saint glanced at me in confusion before his face hardened into harsh lines. “Who the fuck is that?”
Before I could react, he dashed from my bedroom, and I rushed after him.
“Wait, Saint!”
Chapter Nineteen
SAINT
“WAIT. SAINT!” HONORÉ BRIEFLY caught hold of my arm, but I pulled free.
The only thing I registered was the ferocious thumping on her front door and the insane bellowing coming from the other side. A clear threat, and my hackles were up.
The only thing I cared about was making sure Caleb, Honoré, and MJ were safe.
I unlocked the door and busted onto the steps. In the next stride, I sent the crazy asshole sprawling onto the grass.
Lights from the rumbling Harleys flooded the lawn, and the dickhead who was lame enough to launch an attack against a single mom leaped back up to his feet.
Long greasy strands of hair covered his lowered face, but there was no mistaking the mean snarl and combative stance.
“Ripper? You fucking stalking me now or what?”
At the same time, he took two steps forward, raising bloodthirsty eyes to mine. “What the fuck are you doing at my old lady’s house, Saint?”
What . . . The . . . Living . . . Hell?
Ripper’s old lady? Honoré? It couldn’t fucking be.
Honoré, who had sidled out behind me, gasped.
I turned my head in time to see her slowly lower her hand from her mouth. “You two know each other?”
Shock settled and seethed in the pit of my stomach.
Ripper’s lips parted with a foul laugh, and he looked as mangy as the hellhole he called a biker compound. “Yeah, babe. We went on playdates and shit. This goddamn bastard stabbed me good then got sent to the big house. In case you didn’t know.”
Babe? My fists balled up in front of me, chest pumping at full steam.
“What?” Honoré grasped my forearm, but I tore free again.
Dozer and Janky dismounted their bikes, lining up beside Ripper.
“You’re Reggie?” I growled at the cunt-bag who’d already destroyed my life once.
Janky goaded Ripper/Reggie on. “He’s been sleepin’ with your woman?”
“Oh my god.” Honoré stumbled past me, scrambling off the steps.
She couldn’t possibly be protecting him.
This couldn’t possibly be real.
“This is what happens, you bitch, when you keep me from my kid!”
Those very first words barked from outside came back to me in a rush, finally fully connecting.
Holy shit. Ripper at the bar after my first time with Honoré. Bleating about the old lady and his kid. About Honoré and Caleb.
All the blood flooded from my face then surged right back as Ripper laid hands on Honoré, shaking her by her shoulders so her teeth probably rattled in her head. “You’re fucking a Leather Devil?”
Flying off the porch with a roar, I hauled Honoré away from the toxic fuckhead. I shoved her back toward the house and spun to go toe-to-toe with president motherfucking asshole.
All rangy muscles and bony shoulders, he pulled up brass-knuckled fists.
“And you,” he hollered at Honoré. “You’re makin’ a sissy out of my kid! Now I see why.”
He took a sudden swing, blindsiding me. Those goddamn brass knuckles lanced off my cheekbone, splitting skin open.
I brought my hand to the cut, coming away with slick red fingers I clenched back into a fist of concrete. “Managed to sober up some since the last time I saw you?”
Janky outright snickered at that. Dozer remained as silent as ever.
I had to keep an eye on them too, because I knew all these fucks came armed with guns. That was the Death Dealers MO, and I wasn’t stupid.
“You know that night you came around to Thunder Road? I’d just returned from dropping Honoré at home. Took her to a concert and everything, so I don’t really think she’s your old lady, hombre.”
That sure stunned the bastard. I wasted no time barreling into him, one fist plowing into his chin, the other coming around to whale him in the kidneys.
I might not have brass knuckles, but I still had my rings on. Worked just as well, and Ripper wheeled backward.
Dozer and Janky pushed him upright and sent him right back to me.
I wondered if those two twats just wanted me to end their president’s reign or something.
No way was I going down for murder because of this shit-heel.
“That as good as you’ve got?” He hopped from foot to foot in front of me. “Can’t even fight. Don’t need a fucking pussy like you around my son. Or my woman.”
Every time he mentioned Caleb, every time he referred to Honoré as his woman, I saw goddamn volcanic rage.
Jumping back from his next wild attempt, I taunted, “You ain’t never been man enough for her, far as I can tell.”
“Saint, don’t!” Honoré yelled.
Don’t? Fuck that with a fist in her baby daddy’s face.
I bashed the side of his jaw, and his head snapped back with a glorious crack.
Ripper spit out a mouthful of blood, and I followed up with a strike to the other side of his face.
He bellowed out, “What would you know about it? Come in here and try to take over. Bet she ain’t your first lay since prison. Keeping a harem of them? Does Honoré know?”
“Shut your fucking mouth before I crush your jaw.”
“You don’t have the guts.” Ripper rushed me, arms forming a cage around my midsection.
He notched up from his feet and took me clean off mine.
We toppled backward, and the jerkoff landed on t
op of me.
I quickly rolled him like an alligator with its prey. Flipping him to his back, I held him down.
“Had the guts to stab you, didn’t I?” With an absolutely evil grin, I blasted him in the ribs, one side then the other as he flopped back and forth on the ground.
Dead fish.
Leaping off him, I saw Honoré up on the steps. White as a fantôme, she looked absolutely horrified by all that was happening.
“Get that goddamn asshole already,” Janky jeered.
Ripper, having righted himself, renewed his attack.
We laid blow upon blow on each other, slamming fists and landing punches.
The door busted open, and I heard MJ’s voice. “Just what in the holy hell is going on out here?”
Suddenly Ripper and I were set upon. I struggled to get free until I realized it was Honoré hugging me around the waist from behind, trying to drag me off Ripper.
Her hot wet tears sliding against my bare back brought me back from the utter grip of uncaged violence.
“This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen!” She thrust me away from her, away from Ripper, standing there with her whole body vibrating in shock . . . in anger . . . I didn’t know.
Behind her, Ripper loomed over Momma Joan who could barely contain the belligerent bastard.
“Swear to god, let me the fuck go, Ma,” he spoke through gritted teeth.
Ma.
Holy . . . fuck.
My whole world just spun upside down.
MJ wasn’t even Honoré’s mother? She was Ripper’s? Clear evidence to just what type of asshole that fuck was—when his mother gave Honoré safety and sanctuary over her own flesh and blood.
Ripper gnashed his teeth at the much smaller woman, working to wrench his arms free, and still Janky and Dozer did nada.
“Momma Joan!” Honoré made as if to help, but I pushed her out of the way.
After steaming up to the pair, I removed MJ from her son’s reach.
“Gonna beat up a woman now? Your own mom no less?”
Ripper had pure venom written all over his straining body as he drew his bloodied fists up once more.
My main priority was just getting the Death Dealers away from Honoré’s house.
But he wasn’t done yet.
“You been fucking this ex-con? You’re not fit to be a mom.” Ripper spit the despicable words at Honoré.