by V. Theia
His fingers burrowed into her hair, holding her scalp almost too hard and she loved it because it meant Reaper was really touching her, she wasn’t dreaming, this wasn’t one of her fantasies.
“Mmm…did you like it, baby? Want it again?” She could only garble words that made no sense before those fantasy-inspiring lips dropped down and devoured hers in a kiss Hollywood would win all the Oscars for.
Paige was overwhelmed, turned on, and practically humping his leg.
It was unreal that this was the same man who had stayed on the fringes of her life all this time. The silent, stoic, barely smiled or showed her that he wanted her, man. Until now. Until last night. This same man who was crawling into her mouth, giving her the best tongue of her life.
Warmth blitzed through her veins, she was recharged and when his mouth lifted free, too much oxygen hit her all at once.
Yes. Please. Touch me. She wanted his fingers under her dress, beneath her soaked panties, inside of her until all she tasted, saw and felt was him.
She’d eavesdropped all the stories that came through the diner doors about those Renegade Souls bikers. Whispered stories from sexually satisfied, elated woman sharing the details of their night before, spent with a biker or two. Stories hot enough to curl Paige’s lashes. Looking at him now with lust licking out of his breath … she could believe all those stories and her stomach pinched, wondering if any of them she’d overheard had been about him.
She couldn’t resist the allure of the promise in his intense eyes.
He pressed her harder into the shelf using only his hips. Her skin prickled, rising bumps on her forearms.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth and on cue he licked them.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He issued roughly.
“Like what?”
“Like you need to be fucked and fucked hard right here.”
Oh, Jesus. She’d freed the dirty and now it lived on her face because that’s exactly what she wanted.
Pressing her lips to his, she bit down on the full bottom one and heard his groan. “If that’s what I need then you better get started, Reaper.” He didn’t move a solitary inch, frozen, looking at her with fire in his eyes. “Please.”
The please did it when he made a tortured noise from low in his throat and dropped his head on his neck, inhaling hard.
There was a hurricane inside Paige, one that was very impatient for a rough handling but as soon as his calloused palm slid under her skirt and cupped her inner thigh she knew she wanted that too. The soft seduction. The whipping madness didn’t lessen, not even when Reaper pressed his lips slowly into hers again and did some dirty sucks with her tongue, enticing her to dance with him. “Paige…” he whispered.
The suck was enough to get her right to the edge. His hand moved beneath her skirt and palmed around her inner thigh and slowly…surely…stroked her, going no further than a few inches.
It was sufficient to incinerate Paige on the spot.
That hand… oh, that frustrating hand stroked her so lovely, she moaned into his mouth, arms locked around his shoulders, she gave him every indication she wanted him to go further.
“You and me tonight, Paige.” Nibbling her lip, he told her roughly. “I want to take you on a date.”
He reached the juncture of her thighs, she quivered, hardly able to speak at all. “Yes, okay.” She wanted more of what he was doing. Urging his hand to go up and up.
When he did… oh, boy. She cried out into his mouth, muffling the sound, pumping her hips wildly.
It wasn’t enough though. She still hurt all over.
“Shh, Paige. Let me touch you.”
His tongue swept over hers, and the groan he released into her mouth tasted sweet. Sweeter than anything ever before. She attached both hands to the front of his leather vest, her chin tipped all the way back giving him full access to her open mouth.
He rested his forehead briefly on hers, breathing equally as hard, hot puffs of air caressed her lips, the want coursing through him too.
Everything between her legs clenched.
Every slippery, wet, drenched, needy, hungry place between her thighs was his for the taking.
Paige skimmed her hand between them and cupped him, hard, rubbed him harder, and the guttural sounds from Reaper were her payment and reward and affirmation he was on the same page.
“Fuck me with this, please. Please. I need it so badly. Hard, Reaper fuck me hard with this.”
Salt from his sweat coated her lips, she licked it away fast and reveled knowing she had more of him inside her, like she couldn’t get enough, like she’d consume him bite by bite if she was allowed.
He seemed to shudder, his breathing more ragged and when he removed his hand and caged her in against the shelf, not an inch between their bodies she felt a massive rod poking her in the belly.
His mouth met the side of her face. “Aww, baby. Not here, don’t ask me to fuck you here, I’m already hard up for you, it’ll be too fast, too hard.” He groaned, thrusting in between her legs, giving her pockets of absolute bliss as he dragged his lips in a starved kiss.
“Please. Reaper, please. Don’t you want me too?” she flushed. “It too, don’t you want it too?” She amended and hoped he didn’t see her desperation.
Pushing her underwear aside his knuckles brushed her folds, rubbing through the slick evidence of the arousal he found there. Paige whined into his lips, pleading without words. Pleasure coiled beneath that touch, bulldozing everything in its path.
She writhed like an animal. Grinding against his hand, and she grabbed handfuls from the front of his shirt and leather vest. He took his hand back and rested his head on her shoulder. Paige was suspended there, in the lost seconds, just breathing him in and creaming in her panties.
“Oh, god, Paige. You’re asking for trouble. My cock is not that strong to say no to you, baby.”
There was a vibration to his tone … a desolation she’d never heard from him before, almost as if he were begging to regain his composure.
It gave her an awkward moment, but he was already kissing her, forcing her lips open as he boosted her up by the butt and made her legs wrap around him so he could shove forward between the gap and show her the hard treat he’d brought just for her.
He pumped his hips between her legs, showing her what he needed by dragging his hardness to her pleasure zone.
She was unsure if she’d ever seduced a man before, but it didn’t stop her neck from arching, or her rolling her hips so he could feel her slippery clit, knowing she’d hit the right tempo when he gave a started grunt, and his hand circling her throat pressed in a little tighter.
“You need to be fucked like a man is obsessed in you, baby.” He shared hoarsely, biting her lip. Oh, god, yes. “You need to be fucked to the point he’s mad to feel you soaking his cock.”
“Is…is that you, Reaper? Are you mad to fuck me?”
He groaned and sucked her lip, driving rough dry fucks between her legs, she ached so badly at that point she didn’t think it was possible to ever feel good again. “You know I am. You know I fucking am, Paige.”
Did she though? Until just a few days ago he always gave the impression he was ambivalent towards her.
She turned limp with his erotic aggression. His presence set fire to the room.
His hand moved suddenly, cupping her pussy, rubbing so hard on the knot of nerves through her soaked panties that she had to bury her face in his shoulder and cried out into his shirt as the flash orgasm set alight within her.
Her orgasm appeared to be the one thing that calmed Reaper. Because while Paige shook in his arms, trying not to make a sound, he skimmed soft lips over her throat and croaked how beautiful she was. Only after a minute did he remove his hand and let her skirt fall to her knees again.
Harsh breathing coated her cheek.
The air was charged, positively crackling. It felt like an earthquake had destroyed through the storage closet and left her unsteady o
n the very ground.
“That was…” she panted, unable to say anything else past the rushing of her blood in her ears.
“Yeah,” he answered, resting their foreheads together. His eyes practically glowed. Unwavering from her face. She was branded with his gaze. “It was.”
Her heart beat double time.
Why now? She wanted to ask. Why stake his claim now when he hadn’t in all the time she’d known him? It couldn’t only be because she’d started to date, was it?
Was he so possessive over their friendship that he didn’t want anyone else to have her?
She should be happy. She was happy.
Something in their friendship shifted suddenly and all at once and it was making Paige passionately woozy.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, then he kissed her lips just once and stepped back. His knuckle he’d been plying her with immediately went into his mouth and he sucked hard.
Holy chicken soup. Paige burst into flames, part embarrassment, part arousal watching him lick her clean from his finger. “Fucking gorgeous,” he rasped. “‘C’mon,” he offered his hand and she rushed the few steps and grasped it. At the door she asked quietly. “What about you?” Unsure why he’d stopped.
His golden stare turned on her. “You don’t worry about me, Paige.”
She did though. She wanted to.
“Tonight, okay?” He pressed his mouth to her ear. “I’ll take you somewhere nice.”
She could only bob her head. Sure everyone knew what they’d been doing, she kept her head down when she got back behind the counter.
Catching Reaper’s eye on his way out, he stood by the door. “Hey, Paige?”
She gulped. “Yeah?”
“You good?”
Her smile flourished. What was it about him asking her that question that filled her with warmth? She nodded. “I am.”
He winked and left.
Paige was useless for the rest of the day.
Completely, totally, useless for anything other than thinking of what would happen tonight.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“The fox stepped into the hen house.” – Juicy
“What kind of fucking shit show do you think I’m running here?” Spittle flew out of Rex’s mouth, his face mottled red, un-fucking-amused to say the least.
Not surprising since he was furious.
Absolutely livid was his default setting lately.
He rose his booted foot and brought it down hard on the blubbing man laid prone on the floor bleeding all over his rug. “Do you think I pay you to jerk off? Think I give a good goddamn to hold your cocksucking hand when you fuck up and can’t do the simplest task?” Another kick, the man was doubled over, blood oozing out of every hole in his face and Rex could give a fuck if he died right there on the rug his great aunt on his mother’s side gifted on his wedding day, specially made from some fucking backward country. His old lady loved it. And he gave about as many fucks to her opinion anyway.
Off to the side his two sons winced.
Though he’d tried and failed to raise them in the MC world, the pair of them were fucking pussies and a disgrace to his name.
“Dad, maybe you wanna let up now.” His oldest said. He’d spent five years in the MC before Rex was ousted and at one time had ideas of turning the gavel over to him one day. Only his son was a fucking disappointment. The first time his eldest boy shot a guy, he puked for hours and then cried to his mama. Now they both co-managed the dealership just to keep them out of Rex’s hair. It certainly wasn’t pride in his flesh and blood. Say what he will about Rider, but that boy at least bleeds for his MC.
He turned a look on his son and watched his face blanche. Yeah, he knew he was overstepping.
“Maybe you wanna shut that damn mouth of yours.”
He shut his mouth.
Giving a nasty stare to the slop on the floor, he rounded his big desk and put his weight into the chair. He felt every one of his seventy-six years. Not that he’d let his tiredness show to any man, least of all the four in his home office. His two sons and two of his loyal boys who’d stuck with him through all the trouble with Rider.
“Get the useless fucker off my floor and deal with it elsewhere.” Kill him, is what he was saying. Reuben was a two-bit dealer who’d been skimming off the top, not pushing the product as hard as he should and generally being a lazy fucking cunt. He was no use to Rex if he couldn’t do what he was paid for. Expendable men were ten a penny and he watched emotionless as one of his employees dragged the unconscious man from the room.
“Now.” he faced his younger son. The pair had interrupted his meeting and for that alone he’d made them stay in the room while he dealt with Reuben. His younger boy was pale, looking about to chuck up his steak. “What was so urgent you needed a meeting?”
Some would think it odd that his sons scheduled time to see him when any other kid would just charge in like selfish, entitled little pricks. Rex had always been a strict disciplinarian, and he’d taught them with hard lessons that their mistakes would come with consequences.
“It’s about the dealership.” He started, a tick in his jaw indicated to Rex it wasn’t good news he was bringing. “Someone has been undercutting us for weeks now. We lost that contract from Kennings last month.” Rex’s own jaw tightened. It was the first he was hearing about it and his son realized his blunder when his face reddened. “I sorted it though, dad. Anyway. We had the contract with Bills garage for the chop and rebuilds. Out of nowhere he backed out, so I goes down there, and he made it seem as if he’d gotten a better offer … From Colorado. It’s Rider, dad, has to be. He’s the only one who would have that kind of sway. He’s nearly wiped out our stock.” He rushed on, almost as if he thought it would appease Rex to heap more bullshit on top. “I’ve had meetings all day with new suppliers and they say the same, someone from Colorado can and will undercut us. Any lower and we’d be paying them.”
Rider. His shrewd but fucking annoying nephew. The thorn in Rex’s side. The man who’d taken everything that meant something from Rex and made him feel less than a man.
“Get out,” he grated low through his clenched teeth several minutes later. It took all of his control not to strike the mama’s boy until the stupid fell out.
His boy might be dumb as a post, but he got gone almost leaving skid marks on the floor. No doubt going through the house to be consoled by his equally dumb wife.
“We can fix this.” His eldest said. The washed-out look on his face said otherwise.
There was no fixing if Rider was interfering in his business.
It meant Rider was out to break him.
It was a dirty trick Rex himself would have done.
Then something cold occurred to him. Eyes narrowed. His overstuffed gut tightened. One of Rider’s men was Lawless. The craziest psycho to walk, he murdered for fun as stories went. But he was also smart and cunning as they came. Fucking Ajax liked to sing the boy’s praises for whatever reason, he didn’t care.
“Check the accounts.” He issued, with a feeling of dread. He watched his son pull out his phone and open the banking app. Rex supposed he should be more up to date with that shit, but he hated technology. He preferred his cash in his hand, hidden in safes, not being monitored by nosy bastards who wanted a cut.
Up above, the whir of the fan almost silenced out his son’s gasp, but Rex caught it and knew the words that would come next even before he opened his mouth.
“I don’t get it,” the boy stammered, eyes wide. “It’s empty. All three accounts are empty, dad. This can’t be.”
Yeah, it could fucking be. It was.
Fury like nothing before bubbled in his chest along with the sharp pain across his shoulder as his fisted both hands and banged them on the table.
“It’s a mistake. Has to be a mistake. I’ll call the bank now.”
“You fuckin’ know it’s not a damn mistake, boy. They emptied the accounts. When I wanted to keep shit underground, you insis
ted we keep the dealership accounts legit and go above board. How has that worked out for us, you useless little prick?” He spat, approached on slow legs. Before his son could even say a word, Rex, drew back his arm and smacked the boy with the back of his hand right across his face. It made him stumble and fall back into the door. “Get the fuck out of my sight. I don’t wanna see you again unless you got good news for me.”
“Y-yeah, okay. I’ll fix it, dad. I swear.”
He wasn’t gonna fix it.
For years he’d thought all was lost in getting his position in the MC back. When he was Prez, he was treated like a fucking king, a God and he hadn’t been able to accept the position was no longer his.
He’d lied, cheated, done some underhanded shit in order to gain the right to take back the gavel, no matter what he had to do against his nephew.
Sure, the boy was family, but he was also the man in Rex’s way.
The one and only reason he hadn’t put a bullet in that little punk’s forehead was his younger brother.
As much as Ajax bitched about Rider, he also would cause a war if anything happened to him. More than once in those early days of being ousted, Ajax killed a man for daring to say a word wrong about Rider. His idiot brother had lost his VP station too yet spoke out for the guy who fucked them both over. One of these days he wouldn’t care about Ajax’s feelings, and he’d put Rider in the ground himself.
“Is everything okay, honey?” A voice brought him out of his murderous thoughts, and he sent his gaze across the room. His wife framed in the doorway.
He’d once loved her. Way back when they were two dumb kids fucking around in his daddy’s barn, but then he knocked her up and he was trapped for life. The love soon disappeared.
Now she was a giant pain in his ass.
“Let me guess, they both came running to mama?” He sneered.
How in the good fuck could he have two boohooing mama’s boys for sons? His grandsons were heading the same damn way too.
He was disgusted and disappointed.
He had loyal men working for him, and he’d made a partnership with those crazy commies in the bratva, but there was no one he could trust. Not fully, not with anything he needed to do. And certainly not his fucking sons.