UnWreck Me (Savage Beast MC Book 7)

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UnWreck Me (Savage Beast MC Book 7) Page 23

by Hayley Faiman


  My dick wants her right this goddamn minute. It’s angry as fuck that it’s not buried deep inside of her, slamming home hard and fast. Taking a step back, I have to force myself to move out of the room, I can’t stay here, especially as she starts to strip her clothes from her sexy a shit body.

  “I’ll be at the bar waiting,” I grind out, closing the door behind me and practically running toward the bar and a stiff goddamn drink to calm my stiff cock.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  AVAH

  Smoothing my palms down the front of my dress, I turn to the side and look at my reflection in the mirror. Sinking my teeth into the bottom of my lip, I take in my entire reflection, but I basically focus on my middle.

  I used to look like my entire body was airbrushed and I not only starved myself, but I worked out hard for that look. Then, the pressure that I had been under was suddenly taken from me and I realized that all that food restriction and over-exercising, it was for nothing.

  Nobody gave a shit when they weren’t paying me to spread my legs and be their fantasy come to life. Nobody except Hawk and he didn’t care what I looked like. He’s seen me at my worst and he doesn’t give a shit.

  Slipping my feet into the high heels that I found in some of the boxes that he had brought up to the room, I smile at the fact that he thought about me like that. He knows how much I like having my things, how materialistic I am.

  It sounds like a bad trait, being materialistic, but I’m not this way because I’m selfish, at least I don’t think that I’m an extremely selfish person. I feel like I’m this way because I know what it’s like to have absolutely nothing and I never want to be that way again. Things make me feel secure.

  Taking one last look at my reflection, I can’t help but smile. I’m bigger than I have ever been, curvier than I ever thought possible. My hair is shorter and unfortunately thinner from the fucking mess those gnarly extensions made out of it, but I’m happier than I have ever been.

  Opening the bedroom door, I roll my lips together, inhaling a deep breath and step out into the hallway. I hear a moan and I turn to the side.

  My eyes widen at the sight of Keaston thrusting his hips, railing no other than Sable who has her back against the wall and her head turned toward me. Her lips curve up into a lazy grin as he ruts and grunts against her.

  I smirk at her, and her smile widens. I don’t know why or how, but we’ve made some kind of peace, she and I. Though I don’t dare tell Trista that, she still hates the bitch. I don’t blame her, but I understand Sable. I wouldn’t try to steal someone’s man like that or run off his woman, but I get why she would.

  Security is a bitch, especially when you don’t have any or you feel as though you’re about to lose the little you do have. Something ugly slithers down my spine and I can’t shake it. I can’t describe the feeling, I know that I shouldn’t have it though.

  Turning away from Keaston and Sable, I make my way toward the bar. Squaring my shoulders, inhaling a deep breath as my gaze searches the room. It doesn’t take me long to find the man I’m looking for.

  Hawk is at the bar, right where he said he would be, his back to me. The sense of dread and doom lingers as I approach him. Maybe it’s just the unknown, that this is all uncharted and brand new for me.

  I’ve never been in a relationship before and I’m jumping completely in, headfirst, with a man’s man. Someone who will not hesitate to call me on my shit. Who will look at me sideways and expect me to toe the line—always.

  I’m not even testing the waters.

  Nope.

  Not at all.

  When Avah does something, she does it big. Then apparently, she thinks about herself in the third person.

  “Hey, baby,” he rasps, turning around as soon as I approach. His eyes are a little glassy and I wonder if he’s on something other than the beer that’s in his hand.

  He doesn’t say anything else to me, instead, he lifts his hand and cups the side of my cheek. “Beautiful, honey,” he rasps.

  His hand slowly glides down the side of my neck, then my arm until he stops at my wrist, then my breath hitches when he slides that palm down my side, slowly touching every single curve until he stops at the side of my thigh.

  “Orson,” I whisper on a shaky breath.

  Hawk chuckles, the sound as warm and soothing as his touch. I watch as his tongue peeks out and he slides it along his bottom lip. I’m unable to move my gaze away, and I don’t know why, but it’s so sexy that I have to press my thighs together.

  He squeezes my leg, then shifts his hand, slipping it between my thighs. He grunts when he realizes that I’m not wearing panties. His fingers slide through my folds and I have to lift my hand and curl my fingers around his shoulder, gripping him as he begins to touch me.

  “Orson,” I gasp.

  He chuckles. “Love it when you call me that, Avah.” His voice is deep, low, and raspy. “When you say my name all breathy and turned on. It’s hot as fuck.”

  “I cannot believe you’re doing this here and I’m letting you,” I hiss as I subtly move my hips in search of more.

  He hums, leaning forward, and touches his lips to the hollow of my throat. “You’d let me do this and more anywhere, wouldn’t you?” he murmurs against my skin.

  “You know I would.” And I would. I really, really fucking would.

  I’m his match as much as he’s mine. The fact that he can’t keep his hands off of me, that he has to touch me, that is more of a turn-on than him actually touching me. His fingers swirl my clit before two slip inside of me. His fingers make a come-hither motion at the same time his palm grinds against my clit.

  My nails dig harder into his shoulder for support, I know that I must score the leather of his cut, but I don’t care. I’m panting, my chest is rising and falling rapidly as I climb higher and higher. I’m so close. I’m in the middle of a crowded bar, music blaring and people moving and talking all around me, but I don’t care—I’m going to come.

  Then he stops.

  He.

  Stops.

  My eyes fly open and my lips part in surprise. He’s grinning at me like a fucking fool, his eyes glassy and I know he’s high. If he’s high and fucking with me to get a laugh, I’m going to kill him… slowly.

  HAWK

  “You ready for what’s about to come?” I ask.

  Her eyes are wide and if looks could kill, I’d be lying dead right here where I sit. None of that stops the smile from spreading on my face. I’m going to make her mine tonight, in front of my entire fucking club. Not a single fucking thing could bring me down.

  “What’s to come?” she finally asks when I don’t say anything else, when I just stare at her with what probably is a goofy fucking grin on my face.

  Slipping my fingers from between her legs, I watch as her lips part and wish that I could stay inside of her, even if it’s just my fingers at the moment. She lets out a breath and then sucks a deep one in on an inhale.

  “Makin’ you mine, honey.”

  Standing, I don’t give her a chance to ask me any more questions, reaching down, I wrap my arm around her thighs and pick her up on one swift move. Turning my head, I let out a whistle and the music instantly dies down along with everyone’s voices.

  She squeals as I walk her toward the middle of the room. Shifting my gaze to the side, I see Trista standing next to Taz. She gives me a smile as she lifts her glass of water in my direction. Her silent approval for what is about to happen.

  The table comes into view, with the straps in place, ready to hold Avah down. Jerking my chin in Trista’s direction, I give her a grin before I turn toward the table and watch as she climbs up to sit on the edge.

  “Tonight, I’m going to make Avah my Old Lady,” I announce.

  Avah gasps beside me, but I don’t look to her immediately. I’m not a man who gives speeches, but I thought this was something that I needed to make public. Turning to Avah, I look into her eyes, they’re wide and glassed over wi
th unshed tears.

  “You’re mine, honey. No other way to put it.”

  Digging into my pocket, I pull out the ring that I’ve been holding on to for a while now. Something that I bought when I was in LA with her, when I thought that she would come back to Eagar with me all those months ago.

  Taking her hand in mine, I slide the ring on her finger, not asking any question, not the get on my knee kind of man, but Avah lifts her hand, feeling the weight immediately. I hear her loud gasp, obviously surprised by the gesture.

  “Are you asking me a question?” she asks, not taking her eyes off of the ring.

  “Do I need to?”

  She lifts her now watery, and about to spill over, green eyes to meet mine. “Does it come with a question, Orson?” she asks on a whisper.

  “Comes with a last name when you want it and whatever the fuck kinda party you wanna do, but honest to shit, baby. I am not wearing a tux.”

  Her lips curve up into a grin. “You wouldn’t wear one for me?” she asks, batting her pretty eyelashes.

  “You’d have to do some serious sucking up to me to get that and even then, the cut stays and no jacket.”

  Her head falls back as she lets out a laugh. She lifts her hand, placing her palm against my chest. The ring catches the light and I can’t believe I spent such an insane amount of money on a goddamn rock, but nothing less would do for Avah.

  “I’ll give you what you want, you know that, always,” she says softly, just loud enough for me to hear.

  “Yeah, me too,” I grunt.

  Jerking my chin toward the table, giving her a silent demand to lay down. She doesn’t do it, though and I grin. “You’ll get branded for me?”

  She chews on the inside of her cheek, a sign that she’s nervous and thinking.

  Clearing my throat, watch her. “Where do you want it?” I ask.

  She licks her lips, lifting her eyes so that they meet mine. I watch as she glances down to her ring, then looks up to me again. “Wherever you want it to be,” she says loud enough for the people around us to hear.

  That was for them. This is for me, for the club, and I can’t help the sense of pride that fills me at the way she has made it perfectly clear that this is for the club and I’m in complete control of this moment.

  I want it on her forehead, but I’m doubting that she would like that very much. “Between your tits, at the sternum.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Avah strips out of her dress, bringing it to her waist. I almost let out a chuckle at the speed at which she takes the top of her dress off, exposing her beautiful tits to the entire fucking club.

  “Strap her down, shots have been poured,” Dragon announces.

  Jerking my chin, I walk over to the table and bring the straps out from the underside. Looking into her eyes, I gauge her reaction as I strap her arms, waist, and hips down. She doesn’t look scared at all, in fact, she even gives me a smile.

  “It won’t look like hers, will it?” she asks, and I know that she’s referencing Savanna.

  Shaking my head, I lean down, touching my lips to hers. “I had it made for you and you only.”

  I could take offense to the fact that she thought I would recycle my brand, but the reality is, I could have and there’s nothing that she could have done. A brand is a brand and this is mine, but I’m not the same man I was when I gave Savanna one all those years ago.

  I’m different and this situation is different, therefore I updated that shit. The H has swirls coming off of each side, the top and the bottom, and will fit perfectly at her sternum. Straightening, I turn and walk over to the bar where there are shot glasses lined up for all of us brothers.

  Looking over my shoulder one last time, I give her a grin as she watches me. She returns my smile and that’s when I turn and down my shot. The other men do the same, then the music gets turned up a little and we make our way over to the table.

  “Let’s do this, make this woman mine.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  HAWK

  Sinking down between her legs, I spread her thighs and lean forward. She squirms, I’m not sure if it’s in anticipation, fear, or embarrassment. Extending my tongue, I slide it through her center, tasting her. Excitement. That’s what she’s feeling. I must admit that I feel the same fucking way.

  Glancing to the side, I watch as the brand is brought out. Knowing that it’s going to hurt her, I continue to fuck Avah with my mouth, hoping that it will give her some relief before the pain, because that pain is about to be fucking intense.

  Her hips jerk slightly, not that they can really move much with them being strapped down. She’s close. I can taste it, feel it, I know that it’s coming. Lifting my hand, I hold my palm out to stop the guy before he brands her. I want the metal to touch her skin just as she comes.

  I hear her panting above me, then she moans as her muscles tense. I give him the go-ahead just as I taste the evidence from her orgasm. A scream rips from her lips, her thighs shaking next to my head, but I don’t stop moving my tongue against her sweet cunt.

  When she stops moving and her muscles completely relax, I know that not only has she come down from her high, but that the brand is done. Standing, I dip my chin and look between her tits.

  The skin is red, raw, and angry, but fuck me—it’s gorgeous. The wound is cleaned and dressed, but I continue staring even after it’s covered from view. With a jerk, I force myself to unstrap her, then help her sit up on the side of the table.

  Slowly, the music’s volume is raised and the sound of the party either gets louder or I’m no longer in the fog of the moment. I watch as Avah shifts back into her dress, hissing when the fabric slides against the bandages.

  “You okay?” I ask after the small crowd around us has dispersed.

  She nods, tilting her head back, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes.

  “It hurt like a bitch?” I ask, lifting my hand and wrapping my fingers around the side of her neck.

  She wrinkles her nose, then licks her lips. “I can seriously smell burning flesh, Hawk. It’s gross.”

  “You need a drink?” I ask, my lips curving up into a grin that I couldn’t stop even if I tried.

  She snorts. “I need about a dozen.”

  Letting my hand fall from her neck, I hold my palm out for her and she slips hers inside before I tug her down from the table. Walking over to the bar, I’m not surprised that everyone parts out of our way, giving us a wide berth to the booze.

  I walk over to the bar, lifting my hand as I wait for the prospect to make his way over to me. Luckily, it doesn’t take him long. I order a couple of shots with two bottles of beer as chasers.

  He sets the shots down and before I can even wrap my hand around my glass, Avah has both of them downed and is taking a sip from her beer. She must be in some serious pain. I don’t comment on it, but I do want to make sure that she’s alright.

  “You okay there, honey?” I ask on a murmur.

  “Not really, but I will be,” she offers, giving me a wide grin.

  Lifting my hand, I call the prospect over and ask for shots to line the bar in front of us, and for him to keep them coming.

  “You’re not going to cry again, are you?” I ask, shifting uncomfortably in my seat at the memory of walking into this bar, Avah in tears because she was eating processed food or some shit.

  She licks her lips, her eyes meeting mine before she lifts the glass to her mouth and I watch her down another shot. “Maybe,” she whispers.

  Shaking my head, I take a shot and down it myself. If I’m going to have to deal with a crying woman, I’m going to need to be fucking plastered. We continue to drink, one shot after the other, as if I don’t have to drive tomorrow morning.

  To be fair, tomorrow doesn’t matter. We’re living in today, or rather tonight, and tonight I’m going to get drunk with my woman. My woman. A term that I can officially use and mean it, she’s got my ring on her finger, my brand on her body, and soon my kid i
n her belly.

  “What happens next?” she slurs as she leans toward me.

  “Next?” I ask on a chuckle.

  She shrugs a shoulder. “You want to live here forever, move, get married? Next.”

  Wrapping my fingers around her waist, I turn her away from the bar. She needs a breather from the shots or she’s going to be a crying mess. I still need to bury my cock inside of her tonight, no way do I want to fuck her when she’s crying.

  “Girl,” Trista calls out, waving in our direction.

  Avah lifts her hand and tries to walk quickly over to her, but ends up not moving her feet fast enough and stumbles. Gripping her waist tightly, I pull her against my side and help her stand upright.

  “Slowly, baby,” I rasp.

  She turns her head, looking up at me with the biggest, goofiest fucking smile. Shaking my head, I continue to guide her over to Trista and Taz. Looking at Trista, I smirk in her direction, she meets my eyes, giving me a grin of her own.

  “I’m happy for you, Hawk,” she murmurs.

  “Yeah?”

  She nods. “Yeah. I really am. The proposal was perfect.”

  “The branding?” I ask on a laugh.

  “Gross, I couldn’t watch, not my dad.”

  My shoulders shake as I laugh, but Trista reaches out and wraps her fingers around my wrist. I can’t help the gasp that escapes my lips. Trista hasn’t really been overly affectionate since I’ve been back, in fact, she hasn’t been affectionate at all, so any time she shows even the slightest bit, I’m surprised.

  “Thank you for bringing my friend home to her family,” she breathes.

  Shaking my head, I lift my hand, wrapping my fingers around the side of Trista’s neck. “I’m thankful she accepts me as hers and she allows me to keep her as my own, but this is where she was always meant to be and I would have brought her home no matter what, Trista. Not just for her, but for you, too.”

  “Why do you have to be so wonderful. It makes it really hard to be mad at you.”

 

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