Bound by Steel: Mountain Misfits MC Book 3

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Bound by Steel: Mountain Misfits MC Book 3 Page 8

by Voss, Deja


  He knows exactly where we are sitting, but he doesn’t make any effort to look in our direction. I respect that. This isn’t about us. He’d be doing this whether we were here or not. Still, I try and telepathically send him every ounce of positive energy I have.

  His opponent doesn’t look like much to me. He’s a fit guy with a mean scowl, but he doesn’t have that something that Red has. That something I can’t put my finger on or explain. That something that makes him so exciting to be around.

  When the fight starts, I wish I had chugged a couple more gin and tonics because my nerves are out of control. I have my hands over my eyes, peeking out through a crack in my fingers. I am probably the worst fighter girlfriend in the history of the world. It’s not that I don’t have confidence in him winning, I just don’t want to know what has to happen for him to get there.

  Fortunately, I don’t have to be nervous for long.

  He’s one of the reasons why the motorcycle club can sleep well at night. They didn’t elect him enforcer because he’s soft and cuddly.

  He’s got this fucker out cold in a pool of blood, laying in the middle of the octagon.

  “Did he kill him?” I whisper, covering my face more tightly. You can tell I’ve spent enough time around the club that I’m used to worst-case scenarios when it comes to fights.

  Tank laughs and wraps his arm around me. “Relax, he’s moving, just not very well.”

  The crowd is going nuts, and I uncover my eyes and cheer with them, all my worries washed away and a huge sense of pride for my man welling up as they call the fight, crowning him the champion.

  Pride and excitement.

  Because now that this fight is over, all bets are off. Now that this fight is over, it’s only a matter of time until he’s all mine.

  Tank and I run over to the tunnel, trying to beat the crowd. I push my way through to the front of all the people and wait for him to make his way down. I don’t know if he’ll see me standing here, but I want to see him before we go back to the hotel.

  I’m really not paying attention, and I realize I might have lost Tank in my haste. Before I can turn around to look for him, I feel a familiar hand grab mine. I look up at his smiling face and he quickly presses his lips to mine before I can even say hello.

  He pulls me out of the crowd, and my heart starts racing.

  “That was awesome,” I whisper.

  “You watched?”

  “Kind of,” I admit. I walk through the tunnel hand in hand with him to the locker room. There are photographers everywhere, flashes flickering in our faces. “What happens now?” I ask.

  “I have to do a couple interviews and talk to a few people, and then I think you know what happens next,” he says, staring straight ahead, parting the crowd.

  “You want me to go find Tank and wait ’til you’re done?”

  “No,” he says. “You’re my old lady. I want you to come with me so I can show everyone how pretty you are.” I squeeze his hand tighter. I know he’s probably buzzed up on whatever sort of adrenaline rush he’s having right now, but it feels so good to hear him say that.

  “Are you sure?”

  He comes to a dead stop and picks me up off the ground, passionately kissing me while everyone just stands around and watches, cheering, as if a great romance is unfolding before their eyes.

  “I’ve been dying to do that all day,” he whispers in my ear. As good as it feels to be in his arms, I am a little concerned about all these cameras and my choice of underwear, or lack thereof, in this tight sequin dress.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I say. “Now put me down before my cooter goes viral.”

  “So that’s what all the cheering is about,” he laughs.

  He sets me down and pulls down the back of my dress for me, wrapping his arm around my waist as we finish our walk down the corridor and into the locker room. His coach is already waiting there with a towel and a big bottle of sports drink, and he chugs it down.

  “That was some amazing shit right there, son,” his coach says. “You had the fight of your life, Red. There’s a lot of people here who are very impressed. “Your amateur days are coming to end here real quick.”

  “It’s all your fault,” Red says to him. “You know I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Well I’m sure this gorgeous girl helped, too. You must be Olive.” He extends his hand to me, and I feel a blush coming on. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You know you’re way too good for this asshole, right?”

  “Well you definitely haven’t heard a lot about me if that’s what you think,” I giggle.

  “I’m gonna have to commandeer him for a little bit. Press stuff. And agents. There’s champagne and food if you want in the room across the hall. You make yourself comfortable.”

  “She’s coming with me,” Red insists.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” his coach asks. “I’m just looking out for her. This isn’t just some local newspaper stuff. Your life is about to get a lot less private. They’re going to want to know as much about Olive as they do about you. Everything about your relationship from here on out could be scrutinized by the public. I think maybe you should wait until you have an agent to decide what kind of image you want to put out there.”

  “I’m sorry, Coach,” Red says. “My image is what you see is what you get. As long as she’s cool with it, I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks.”

  We haven’t even discussed our relationship with the guys in the motorcycle club, let alone everyone who follows MMA on the internet. This is about to be a bold declaration of our commitment, and to be honest, I am actually more than happy about that.

  “I’m cool with it,” I say, lacing my fingers in his, “but this isn’t about me. This is about you, Red, and your awesome fight. I don’t want to take away from your big night. I don’t want to jeopardize your career.”

  “You won’t, Olive,” his coach assures me. “My phone has been going off nonstop for the last twenty minutes. This guy could dropkick a puppy right now, and he’d still be getting offers out the ass.”

  “Do I look alright?” I ask, knowing full well that I have more make-up on my hands than on my face right now.

  “You look better than alright. Although that dress would definitely look a lot better on the hotel room floor,” he whispers in my ear.

  “Well then let’s go do this thing so we can find out if you’re right,” I purr.

  I have never felt so important in my life. So wanted. So cherished. A guy can tell you how much he loves you until he’s blue in the face, but wanting to walk out into the world, the first day of the rest of his career with me on his arm as his old lady? That’s a kind of commitment I have never known.

  I try and push aside the fact that I feel like somehow I’m purposely forgetting an important part of this equation. If Red and I go public, where does that leave Tank? Before I can even think though, we’re back out in the crowd again, people holding their phones to his face as they shout questions at him.

  It’s overwhelming, but it’s kind of fun. He does all the hard work. I just smile and take it all in. These people are going to love Red as much as I do. His story, his life, it’s truly amazing. Where he came from and where he has the potential to go would inspire just about anyone.

  As the chaos dies down and we go back to the locker room, I keep myself busy gathering up his stuff while he talks to men who I assume are agents, his coach insisting that he doesn’t sign anything until he can sit down with a lawyer.

  “What are you guys getting into tonight?” he asks Red once the room clears out. “I’m sure a beer or six is probably going to taste pretty good after all the work you put in this month. Got big after-party plans?”

  Red just shoots me a wink.

  I know I have big plans, but they don’t involve anything other than the perfectly good hotel room we have waiting for us and the sheer black lingerie I’m going to slip into as soon as we get there.


  “I’m sure we’ll come up with something,” he says.

  “I’m proud of you, Red.” He pulls him in for a hug. “Take a nice long weekend. Show this girl a good time. We can get back to work Wednesday.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “And please please please don’t sign anything until you talk to me first. I have a really good lawyer. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  It almost brings a tear to my eye seeing how kind this man is to Red. I’m sure he has something to gain from it as well, but when you grow up without anyone to look after you, seeing that there are good people in this world who want to help you restores your faith in humanity just a little bit more.

  We take a taxi to the hotel, neither one of us saying a word. Nothing needs to be said. His actions tonight were all I needed to know that I’m right where I belong.

  I can tell by the way he’s stroking my thigh, his hand creeping up my skirt little by little, that talking is the last thing on his mind, and that’s fine by me. Even though I’ve imagined what tonight was going to be like, I have a feeling I’m in for more than I bargained for, and as the taxi pulls up to our hotel, I take a deep breath and brace myself.

  It’s been two long years of denial and one long week of torturous foreplay, and now that it’s time for the main event, I don’t know if I’m going to make it through the elevator ride to the top floor without getting us arrested for public indecency.

  14

  I’m glad I’m not responsible for the key card, because by the time we get to the hotel room, I’m a quivering mess. The way he has me clutched tight to his body like a prized possession, I can feel his hardness pressing into my thigh. He smells like dirt and sweat and if I had any panties on, they’d already have melted to the floor.

  He opens the door and flicks on the light, and as it locks behind me, I feel like I’m trapped in a cage with a mountain lion, his blue eyes fixed on me like he’s waiting to pounce.

  Don’t make any sudden movements, I think, not quite afraid of what will happen, but not wanting to break this weird tense stare down we’re having. I’m holding my breath, waiting for his next move, wanting him to take control of this situation.

  I nearly jump out of my skin as he reaches for my hand, walking me across the room to the king-size bed, where he motions for me to sit on the edge.

  “I brought lingerie for you,” I whisper, as if that’s even a thought in his mind right now.

  “That’s cute,” he growls, looking up at me with eyes that are an equal mixture of sexy and crazy, “but we’re not going to be doing that tonight. I figured you would’ve known by now that I’m not a romantic guy. Maybe Tank wants to dress you up pretty and make you feel good, but that’s not my style.”

  I bite my lip, my heart beating so quickly that I feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest.

  “You do a pretty good job of pretending like you’re a good girl, Olive,” he says, stroking my face. “I know you’ve got Tank wrapped around your finger like you’re some sort of innocent little thing.” He grazes his finger over my lips and I open my mouth, taking it in. “You and I know better than that, though, isn’t that right?

  “I can’t wait to feel that mouth of yours wrapped around my dick,” he whispers. He reaches for my thighs, parting them wide. “Does that make you wet? Thinking about sucking my dick?” As his fingers trace further up my thighs, I begin to gush. “I know exactly what you need, girl.”

  I reach for the bottom of my dress, eager to pull it off.

  “That’s right,” he says, watching me as I strip, “show me how bad you want it.”

  I reach around to unclasp my bra, then grab my breasts, squeezing them together, watching his pants swell as I nearly start drooling at the thought of finally getting to see his cock in all its glory.

  He reaches for my nipples, twisting them between his fingers just hard enough to make me yelp in the best possible way. As he takes his hand and slaps the side of my breast, my toes curl.

  “Yes,” I shout, staring into his eyes. He does it again, this time not so softly. It turns me on even more than I thought possible, waking up my darkest desires, feeding my urges to do all these depraved things that I’d long forgotten about in my years of trying to be good and clean up my act.

  “You love that, don’t you?” he says. “You love that I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  I love his handprints on my skin, I love that he could break me in half if he so desired. I love that I just watched this man beat someone to the ground and now he’s got his eyes on me. Fear mixed with excitement. It’s like he can smell it in the air, and egging him on might be a dangerous game, but win or lose, I’m still getting exactly what I came here for.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath in just that right spot nearly enough to make me lose it.

  “I want you to fuck me,” I beg, grabbing his hand and putting it on my throat. “I want you to hurt me.”

  He kisses me hard, biting on my lip as he pulls away. “You’re just the right kind of sick.” He grabs my hair in his fist and tugs, his hand pressing into my throat as I feel my pussy begin to throb with need. I reach for his pants, and he pulls my hair harder. “You’re so greedy. You’ve been getting slammed all week and you still need more, don’t ya?”

  “I need you,” I whine.

  “I know, Olive,” he says. “You need me to make you feel like the dirty girl that you are.” He’s pulling his pants down, and the girth of his dick alone makes my jaw drop. I stare at it, unblinking and he just laughs and shakes his head. I’m hypnotized by his raging erection, and my core throbs, anticipating the feeling of it inside me.

  He stands me up from the bed, picking me up, pressing my back into the wall as he forces his way inside me. I scream out, my body feeling pain but my brain melting into ecstasy. The most delicious combination of sensations I’ve ever felt washes over me like a tidal wave.

  “You feel so good,” he grunts, thrusting into me so hard that I feel like he’s poking me in the lungs, like a wild beast, like a lunatic, like a big bad dirty biker who takes whatever he wants. The man I’ve loved since the instant I laid eyes on him. His hands cup my ass, urging my legs to wrap around his waist so he can take me deeper, harder.

  I close my eyes, the sound of his cock slamming in and out of my body echoing through the room as my thighs begin to shake uncontrollably. I feel it from my head to my toes, this explosion. I’m cumming so hard that I feel like I’m going to start crying, my whole world shattering as I hang there in his arms.

  He sinks his teeth into my shoulder and I feel his dick swell up against my contractions, filling my insides, marking me forever with his hot jizz. As his moans soften, so does his grip. He stares into my eyes, smiling, and brings his lips to mine for a gentle kiss.

  Just like that, we’re Red and Olive again. I laugh through my tears as he gently carries me back to the bed and lays me down.

  “Jesus Christ, Red,” I whisper. “I had a feeling you knew how to lay it down, but damn… you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “I’m surprised I lasted longer than four seconds,” he chuckles, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You don’t know how hard this week has been.”

  “Well it’s over now.” I smile, running my fingers through the layer of hair on his thighs, feeling his skin rise into goosebumps under my touch. “At least it’s over for now. I’m sure you’ll be fighting again soon.”

  “About that,” he says, his tone serious but his face soft. “I jizzed in my sleep last night and I still won today. So maybe torturing myself really wasn’t what made this all come together.”

  “All that hassle to waste it all away on a wet dream, huh? Was it at least a juicy one?”

  “I was eating an ice cream cone.”

  “Oh,” I say.

  “While you were sucking my dick,” he laughs.

  “Get out of here,” I giggle.

  “Well if you want to know
what I want for my birthday, that would probably be a good place to start.” Well, at the very least, I know he’s planning on keeping me around for another four months.

  “You’re probably starving and exhausted,” I say.

  “I probably smell like an armpit full of gym socks, too.”

  “I kinda like it,” I say, shrugging.

  “You would, you weirdo. That’s why I love you. You’re just enough crazy.” He pecks me on the lips and walks into the bathroom before I can get a word in. “Order us some food,” he calls over his shoulder.

  “What do you want?”

  “Everything,” he yells.

  I hear the shower start running and I pull out some shorts and a tank top from my suitcase. I take a lap around the suite. This place is gorgeous. Tank and I were in such a hurry when we got here that I didn’t really get a chance to look around. I open the door to the balcony and am blown away by the fact that there’s a hot tub outside. It takes everything in me not to just slide on into it and ease these bruises that I’m sure are covering my ass.

  First, I have to feed him. That shouldn’t be hard. All I have to do is pick up the phone. I wonder where Tank is, though. Is he hungry, too? Should I order something for him?

  I haven’t seen him since we got separated at the fight. Was that on purpose?

  I feel my chest tightening, like I’m on the verge of an anxiety attack. I can’t let Red see me like this. I can’t take away from what is likely one of the most important days so far in his career.

  I pull my phone out of my purse and text him.

  ‘Where are u? RU ok?’

  Seconds later, he responds.

  ‘Out with some of the guys from the Hill District Chapter. Have fun tonight. U don’t worry about me.’

 

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