by Anna Edwards
“You’re a liar.”
I laugh, pushing my hips backward, causing him to hiss, and seconds later, I feel him mark me with his arousal. The groan and grunt from his chest vibrate through me, causing my own orgasm to shoot down my spine, from my head to my toes, and I once again drench his fingers.
We don’t move. We’re still for a long while before I turn to regard him. Planting a kiss on his lips, I smile. “I never fucking lie.”
“Biker princess,” he tells me. “Who knew you’d be so prim and proper at work, but the moment we take you out of that office,” he coos, kissing my cheek, then my neck, and lower, until he sucks one hardened nipple into his mouth. “You’re mine now. Do you realize that?”
“Call me biker princess again, and I’ll bite your dick off.”
“I like a girl with fangs.” He winks up at me, teasing my nipple until I’m shaking. “Let’s get another drink and try this fucking thing again. I need to feel that tight pussy around me.” He pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around my frame, and his warmth envelops me.
“Adrian,” I call to him, and as I pull away, I note the concern on his face. “I don’t know why, but . . . I don’t see you as broken, or imperfect,” I tell him honestly. “I want to try this.”
“Then we’ll try it.” He smiles, and I wonder just how long he’ll be able to hide the pain that’s so clear in his dark eyes. But for now, I bask in him, all of him, because he’s perfect.
Chapter Five
Adrian
We’re just about to head into the bedroom when my phone rings from the living room table. Grabbing it, I notice it’s Draven. I wish I could ignore it, but since he’s holding down the club while Jackal is away with his wife, it could be something important.
I answer, pressing the phone to my ear. “What’s up, Shadow?” I call him by his club name.
“Wicked Sinners,” he tells me without greeting. The name of our competitor club turns my body rigid. For years, the Sinners and the Saints were inseparable, but the club that Scarlett’s father used to run broke away from us. Nobody knows why, but something tells me we’re about to find out.
“Do you need me at the house?”
“Yeah,” he tells me. “It’s a matter of life or death.” The silence between us turns my blood cold. Something must’ve happened. “Get here now. And Stryker,” he utters my nickname. “Come alone.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Shadow?”
He sighs over the line, and I realize he must have eyes on me. Why the fuck is my VP following me? He’s known me since I was practically a kid. Now he can’t even trust me?
“Draven,” I speak when I realize he’s not going to answer me. “Tell me what you mean by that comment, man. You know I ain’t no fucking nark.”
“Your little doctor friend,” he bites out. “She’s the daughter of the Wicked Sinners Pres,” he tells me something I already knew. “Her brother and the rest of the Sinners just took out two of our men. They’re on our turf, Stryk, and we need to get at them before they come knockin’.”
I pivot on my heel, my gaze burning into the woman who’s perched on the arm of my couch. She looks as if she’s struck dumb, and I’m certain it’s the murder painted on my face right now.
My hand grips her neck. Pulling her to her feet, I push her against the wall. Her lungs give out, and the shaky breath that whooshes from her lips fans over my face.
“I’ll be there in ten. I’ll sort out the little doctor.” I hang up, shoving my phone into my pocket, then turn my attention on Scarlett. “What the fuck did you do?” I hiss in her face, causing her to flinch, but right now, the fear that’s painted all across her pretty face is nothing compared to what I want to make her feel.
“I-I didn’t—” Her words are cut off by my fingers tightening around her neck. The smooth, delicate column will be bruised tomorrow, but I don’t give a shit. I want her to remember me. I want her to look in the mirror every day and think of what I did to her. Brought her pleasure and caused her pain all in the same twenty-four hours. “P-P-please.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I bite out. Clenching my teeth in frustration, I feel the tick in my jaw. I should walk away, throw her out and tell her to run back to her brother and tell him I’m coming for him, but before I do that, I’m going to make a spectacle of her.
“Listen to—”
“You don’t make the fuckin’ rules around here, princess. And you know why?” I pin her with a glare as I grin without any humor. “Because you fuckin’ lied to me. Snitches get sliced up and thrown in a shallow grave.” Reaching into my belt, I pull out my blade. The same one I was given when I joined the Saints. Jackal had my name carved into the wooden handle. We each have our weapon of choice, and this one is mine.
I press the tip to her lips, pressing the bottom one down enough to create an indent. My cock is throbbing at the thought of making her bleed. A tear trickles down her cheek. I lean in close, reveling in the hitch of her breath. My tongue darts out to lick the salty emotion from her smooth skin, and I turn my head, spitting it out on the floor with a sneer. “I guess I have to remind you I’m not a nice man, especially when you’re fuckin’ with my family.”
She shakes her head as more of those salty droplets fall from her pretty eyes, but they do nothing to make me show mercy.
“I’m going to ensure you never forget me, princess. Because the moment you walk out this door, that’s the last time I show you or your fuckin’ club any mercy.” I trail the knife down between her tits, right where I want to shove my dick, and press the blade down on her alabaster flesh.
The crimson droplets that appear make me smile, and Scarlett whimpers as the sharp steel opens her skin. I draw a small X, which now drips blood from the wound. It’s small enough to clean up and heal, but it’s also big enough, prominent enough for her to always remember me.
“X marks the spot, princess. Go home. Tell your brother if he comes near my club again, I’ll not only gut him like a fish, I’ll make him watch while I slice you open.”
Scarlett gasps at my threat, her eyes wide with terror. “You’re a monster,” she murmurs in awe.
Nodding, I smirk. “I told you, princess, I’m a bad man, and no amount of therapy will fix me.” I grab her by the arm and shove her toward the front door. Pulling it open, I watch her race from my home to the bike I knew would be parked on the corner of my street. Her brother has fucked with the wrong club, but what’s running through my mind is if I’ll ever see the pretty little toy again.
Thank you for reading! Adrian and Scarlett will be coming to you in a full-length story soon. I hope you enjoyed the little taste of their journey so far.
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Chapter One
Kace
Chance meetings. Some call it destiny or fate…but I'm not a philosopher. I want to know what makes it plausible before it makes any sense. I want to understand the psychology of these life-altering encounters that inevitably set the course of a person's life. It's how my mind works. It's what keeps me up at night.
Tap. Tap. Tap. My fingers fidget on the steering wheel. Destiny or not, here I am on the rainiest day in spring, about to do the one thing I swore I would never do. "Not on my life," I'd scoffed at the suggestion from my brother's fiancé.
“You never know, Kace. She could be what the universe wants for you.”
At the time, I'd rolled my eyes and shaken my head, thinking that a blind date was the furthest thing from the truth. What was the real rea
son behind these matchmaking endeavours? Did she want me to meet someone so I wasn’t so much of a fixture in their lives anymore?
I close my eyes and suck in a breath. Hold. Release. Hold, release, but then I open them, and it's back again. That nagging feeling that the earth could cave in on me. It won't, I remind myself. It hasn't for 4.54 billion years. The rain pounds on the roof of my car, and the loud thrum doesn't do anything to settle my nerves.
"Shit, it's pissing out there," a female voice shrieks, and I widen my eyes as a silver-haired stranger climbs into the passenger seat of my car uninvited.
She throws a few shopping bags in the backseat, grinning to herself, and then gasps when she finally notices me.
"What the fuck are you doing in my sister's car?" she yells. Her azure-blue eyes are wide with shock and confusion.
I stare at her, speechless at her audacity. She climbed into my car, sodding wet and drenching the seats of my recently washed Toyota Corolla.
“Your car? This is my car!” I object, and she grabs me by the shoulders of my jacket and shakes me vigorously.
“You’re a thief, aren’t you? Oh my God! What have you done with Mac?”
I clench my jaw to stop myself from losing control. She’s invading my space and questioning me? Heat creeps up my face, and I try to shove her away. She’s pretty intense for a tiny thing.
A knock at the passenger window has us both glancing toward it. A woman in a hoodie which covers most of her face stands shaking her head and motioning for my passenger to exit the car.
Her lips form a perfect O, and she lets go of my collar. She smooths it, pats it a few times as she flashes me a sheepish grin, and I shake my head. "Just go," I hiss.
"I'm so sorry," she says in a small voice as she gathers her bags and climbs out of my car. I don't bother responding. I just wave her off, watching as the two women brave the rain and make a dash to their car, which is the exact replica of mine, parked a few rows in front of me.
The nerve! My main concern is how to get my heart rate under control after that, and how I'm ever going to get out of this vehicle when it's raining so hard. I slam my hands on my steering wheel.
Why the fuck am I so angry all the time? Why am I so anxious? Why am I just me?
I eventually bite the bullet and find myself sitting across from a petite blonde with eyes as blue as the summer sky. She's overly expressive, her hands moving around as she speaks trying and failing to fill the awkward silence that settles between us. I hate that I am sitting here soaking wet while she looks like she’s just stepped off a runway. I didn’t miss the once-over she gave me when I walked in here a few minutes ago.
“So, what do you do for a living?” she takes a large sip from her white wine glass. I’ve barely touched mine. My irritation from the events of the last hour and the girl with the white hair plays over in my mind.
The age-old question. What do I say? Don’t tell them the truth. My brother's words ring in my head. Facts won't get you laid. But it sure as hell won’t make me feel like a fraud.
“I’m a dentist.” I clear my throat.
She straightens in her chair, her interest immediately piqued. "Oh," she flutters her eyelids. Isn't it odd how a fancy title makes you a lot more interesting to women?
That infuriates me, and I have a good mind to leave her here with the bill, escaping through the service entrance.
I sigh. “How about you?” I twirl my food around my plate, my appetite diminishing by the second.
"I'm a fitness instructor," she tells me enthusiastically.
Go figure. This whole conversation is getting old. What happened to picking up girls in bars like the good old days? And then I remind myself I was never good at that. Jax was. He was the one who knew all the right things to say and do, and more often than not, I was left at the bar alone.
“You’re welcome to stop by my gym if you’re around. Not that you need it.” She reaches over and wraps an arm around my bicep.
I look down at her nails, painted bright pink, and I realize that the last thing I want is to see this woman again, but I'll play along.
“Would you still feel that way if I was a broke ass?”
“Good thing we don’t have to worry about that.” She bats her eyelids, giggling.
I pour some water in a glass and take a sip, my mouth suddenly dry.
“How much do you make?”
“Excuse me?” She looks taken aback by my question.
“You heard me. I want to know if you make enough to feel you’re deserving of my dentist’s salary.”
“That’s kind of rude of you, don’t you think?” She glares at me, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
"This isn't working out," I accuse signalling for the waitress.
“Wait, what do you mean?” She frowns at me.
Still willing to give me a chance, is she? I guess dentists are pretty high-end in her book.
"This whole setup is just pretentious. I never eat in places like this because I can barely afford my rent from month to month. I am not a dentist. I haven't even been to one since I was a kid. I'm a writer. I write online content, and it pays me next to nothing. I live in a one-bedroom apartment that's the size of the bathroom in this place."
Her eyes widen, and her shoulders tense. “You should have said that from the onset.”
“Yeah, but would you still be sitting here, fluttering your eyelids like I’m even your type?”
She shakes her head.
The waitress arrives, and I pull out my wallet. She raises her hand to stop me.
“I will fucking pay this bill,” I hiss, throwing my credit card on the table. The waitress picks it up slowly and casts Susan or Stephanie a sympathetic look.
It's always the man's fault, isn't it?
"See you around," I mumble as I rise to leave.
“Unlikely,” she bites back, and I decide to give that to her. I did humiliate her in front of a waitress. I did lie to her. I did arrive ten minutes late in a jacket that smells of old socks. I rake my hands through my hair and walk out of the restaurant.
“How’d it go?” I’m lying on my couch channel-surfing when my brother steps through my door in his pinstripe suit. I don’t know why I even gave him a key.
“Great,” I lie.
“Is that why Tiff just called me? Apparently her friend Sam was in tears, ranting about how my brother is the biggest asshole in the world.”
"Oh, is that her name? We didn't get that far." I know very well I was an asshole, but I've had it with Jax and Tiffany trying to set me up. “Fuck off.”
He moves my feet off the couch and sits down. "Did it ever occur to you to be nice for once? It wouldn't kill you."
“I was nice. I never insulted her, not directly at least. I paid for lunch. What more do women want?”
“How about you at least pretend you’re having a good time? You might actually find that you will.”
“I did, for half an hour while pretending to be a dentist.”
He lets out a breath. "You can't be alone forever, bro. At some point, you need to think about settling down, or at least getting a job that pays." He looks around my apartment. I know he means well, but it annoys me that he's always judging.
“I’m happy with the way things are right now. Why do I need to change it? To suit you? Tiffany? A woman who barely even knows me? No, you want me to change so you don’t have to explain why your brother is such a deadbeat.”
He shakes his head. "That's bullshit, and you know it. Look, at least talk to Tiffany."
Did I mention his fiancée is also a psychologist?
I shoot up on the couch. "Stop trying to fix me, Jax! Fuck!" I rise and storm off to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me, indicating that the conversation is over. This is invariably a battle between us. Him trying to fix his broken baby brother, and me not giving a flying fuck. I don’t have it in me to argue with Jax. I never did.
I hear his footsteps approaching the door, and I know he w
on't enter. He just stands there, heaves a breath loud enough for me to hear, and walks away. I listen to the front door open and slam shut.
People have wanted to fix Kace Briggs for as long as I can remember. None of them have ever succeeded, because I’m irreparable.
Chapter Two
Kenzie
I just did a five-mile run, and I'm pumped when I step into my house and find my boyfriend, Will, casually lounging on the couch. There are few rules, few rules I impose, and he cannot even stick to one of them. This is my house for god's sake. He can at least respect me by letting me know when he's coming over. He cut a key without my consent and has been using it. Yes, he's my boyfriend. Yeah, we've been together long enough, but this is my space, and he needs to accept that.
"Will," I pant as I step in front of the TV. My muscles ache, and all I want to do is step into the shower. "You never told me you were coming over. You used your key again."
His eyes wander over my yoga wear. “Come on, babe, can we not do this again? I’m going to miss the scoring.”
He doesn’t watch soccer like most guys I used to date did. He watches Strictly Come Dancing and The Voice with me instead. It was one of the things I liked about him. In the beginning, before he started being himself. Controlling and downright overbearing.
"Just forget it!" I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower, undressing in haste, feeling utterly frustrated and fed up. How long will I be able to keep up this farce? We've been dating a year, but for most of it, I've resented him. I dislike the way he's so flaunty. I hate that he still introduces me as his friend at those boring work functions he takes me to and that he criticizes every single thing about me, from my unconventional hair to my dress style. If I thought my ex, Lucas, was terrible, this one is a hundred times worse.