On the Outskirts of Austin, Texas
Laughing women bustled around me in the giant communal kitchen of the Iron Horse MC clubhouse, and I let out a contented sigh. They moved around me with quick, efficient moves and managed to avoid each other, sometimes narrowly. I grinned as I thought about how close Sweet Taya, one of the old ladies I played poker with, had come to wearing a giant, buttercream frosting covered four tier cake. Only quick thinking by two nearby women managed to save the day, and the cake. We were getting the big Sunday picnic ready and we’d made enough food to feed three high school football teams going through a growth spurt. The air was heavy with the scents of cinnamon, sunblock, barbeque, fruit, and beer-an odd combination that worked none the less. If summer had a smell, this was it.
Every month, on the third Sunday afternoon, Beach had a huge bash for the brothers and their families during the day, then at night the kids and some of the old ladies left while the sweet butts rolled in, ready to party it up with the men of Iron Horse. But right now the vast yards surrounding the clubhouse were filled with hungry kids instead of hussies, and the air was rang with happy laughter as we cooked up a storm. There were towering platters of made-from-scratch golden fried chicken, heaping mounds of creamy potato salad, and more cakes, cookies, and mouthwatering pies than you’d find in most bakeries. That wasn’t even counting the hogs that were roasting out back, along with a couple huge slabs of brisket in the smoker and a ton of ribs. There were even three big pots of made from scratch barbeque sauce bubbling on the stove, each destined to slather a different kind of meat.
Mouse had made one batch, Birdie another, and a tweleve-year-old girl. The last one, Julie-Sweet Taya’s daughter, had a knack for cooking that I found admirable. I’d been able to cook at her age as well, but it was out of necessity…which is probably why I order out now a lot. Anyways, Julie rocked in the kitchen because she was a cooking genius, and she had an adoring mother and grandmother that taught her everything they knew. So while Birdie and Mouse argued over whose concoction was better and why, my vote was on Julie having the best barbeque sauce at the end of the night. There was even an award for the best dish, and I bet Julie was working with her dad on making his ribs the winner. Yep, the men were so serious about their food they gave awards for it.
Basically the clubhouse was currently a carnivore’s paradise, and it never occurred to the guys that not everyone liked to eat meat. I’d brought a vegetarian pasta salad and eggplant casserole, knowing Leah, the wife of one of the Prospects, would have slim pickings if I didn’t bring something without meat in it. Because she was both naturally shy and scared of messing up her husband’s chances of getting into Iron Horse, she would have rather starved than create any kind of fuss.
Fortunately for her, part of my job as the president’s old lady was to make sure my girls were happy, so I paid attention and looked out for them. Taking care of others, making their lives better, fed my soul in a way I’d never experienced, and I couldn’t help but surrender to a warm glow of satisfaction as I looked around the room at the organized chaos. I knew most of these women, had begun to build a history with them, and for the first time in my life I had the pleasure of really feeling like I was putting down roots.
Even at my house in Las Vegas I’d felt like I was just visiting, which is why it’s been empty while my old assistant and one of my best friends, Marley her toddler Scottie, watched over my place from the guest house. The main house, where I used to live, wasn’t always vacant. We frequently lent it out to close friends a lot, but it was no longer my home. I’d had all the furniture and personal possessions that I wanted to keep either put into storage, shipped to Austin, or locked away in my master bedroom that I kept secured from the rest of the house. Beach and I liked to steal away to Las Vegas when we could for a day or two of fun, and I didn’t like the idea of anyone sleeping in my bed but me and my man.
A little thrill of happiness stole through me as I thought about the dangerous badass who had dragged me into this crazy, risky, amazing world. Carlos “Beach” Rodriguez, a golden-haired sexy as sin, man a good fifteen years older than me with a light Mexican accent to his English that drove me crazy. He’d dirty talk to me in Spanish every once in a while and it never failed to make my toes curl. And he was amazing in bed. Gifted even.
“Sarah,” a sweet voice said from behind me, startling me from my pervy thoughts.
I turned to find an attractive brunette woman in her early forties who I was familiar with, but couldn’t place at first. “Hi.”
Giggling, a light blush reddened her cheeks as she looked at me through her long lashes and said, “It’s me, Bonnie, Turtle’s old lady.”
Gaping at her, I shoved the bag of chips I’d been opening into the arms of a passing woman and squealed. “Shut the front door! You look fantastic! Woman, I had no idea you were such a fucking babe. I bet Turtle can’t keep his hands off your tight little ass. I didn’t even know you had a booty like that in those old jeans you used to wear. Damn, well done you!”
Everyone in the kitchen turned at my loud chatter and when they saw who it was, all the ladies started showering Bonnie with compliments at her new look. She’d gotten a really cute haircut that flattered her oval face, and had highlights that had been professionally and perfectly done. A little bit of sparkly pink eyeshadow brought out her deep blue eyes, and her lips were slightly shiny with a pale pink gloss.
Her old man, Turtle, had been in prison for six years, during which time Bonnie had given up on looking good. Right before he got out last week, I’d taken Bonnie on a shopping spree and hooked her up with clothes and cosmetics. I’d also given her the card to my stylist and it looked like she’d used him.
No wonder Turtle had such a big smile on his face all the time.
There was a glow about her that only came from good sex, and I gave her a quick hug and whispered in her ear, “You look so happy.”
“I am so happy,” she whispered back.
When I leaned back to comment on how cute her earrings were, a woman said in a snide voice, “Too bad she didn’t get some plastic surgery to fix those tiny tits. Turtle probably needs a magnifying glass to find ’em.”
I don’t think Bonnie heard it, she was too busy being admired by the other women, but I did, and my gaze zeroed in on an old lady I wasn’t familiar with.
Her long red hair was back in a braid and her low-cut teal tank top displayed so much cleavage I was tempted to throw pennies in it. Her coppery skin spoke of a good deal of time spent outdoors, and she had deep lines around her mouth and lips that indicated a lifetime of smoking. She’d lived a hard life and it showed. When she noticed me glaring at her, she raised one coppery brow and gave me a total “what the fuck are you gonna do about it, bitch?” look.
Oh, I knew exactly what I was gonna do about it.
See, this was the nice thing about living in an outlaw MC world, I didn’t have to abide by the social rules most people did. In polite society, I would have clutched my pearls and stammered out a “Well, I never”. In the world of the Iron Horse MC, I could beat the bitch out of her.
Strolling over, I gave the arrogant woman a hard look and motioned to her. “Follow me.”
“You got something to say to me, bitch, you can say it right here.”
The mood in the kitchen plummeted and I could feel my girls watching us with morbid fascination.
During my time as Beach’s official old lady, I’d developed a bit of a reputation among the women of the Iron Horse MC as someone you didn’t want to fuck with. It might have something to do with me beating the hell out of not only a couple bitches, but also a couple guys. Or it might have something to do with the fact that I didn’t put up with shit from anybody, and Beach liked it that way. He gave me free rein to dispense justice as I saw fit because he trusted me to do the right thing, and so far I hadn’t let him down. If I saw a problem, I took care of it. My take charge attitude pissed off some of the brothers, but I could give a flying fart that their delicate macho pride got hurt by me handling shit “like a man”.
If I had to bash some skulls to take care of a situation instead of waiting for them to rescue me and hoping they got there in time, I was going to bash some damn skulls.
That didn’t mean I went around randomly beating people up. I always tried diplomacy first, but some people were just begging for an attitude adjustment and didn’t respect anything except violence. I didn’t know where this redhead came from, but she obviously thought she was top dog around here. The MC had an odd and ever-evolving social structure, and she was about to find out now that this was my territory, and I didn’t take anyone’s shit.
“I don’t know who you are or where you’re from,” I said in a low voice, “but around here, we build each other up, not tear each other down. We’re sisters, not strangers, and we treat each other with respect.”
For a moment she seemed puzzled, then the arrogance came back into her expression and she narrowed her eyes at me, the scent of alcohol coming off her breath as the woman standing next to her smirked at me. “Awww, isn’t that cute. You all sit around and eat each other’s pussies then tell each other how pretty you are?”
Instead of rising to the bait, I pointed at the double doors at the back of the kitchen that led to large yard of the clubhouse, where most of the men were. “You have thirty seconds to take your negativity out of my kitchen or we’re gonna have problems.”
“Fuck you,” the redhead sneered and touched her vest. “I’m Score’s old lady.”
I stared blankly at her. “And?”
“He’s the VP of the Billings Chapter of Iron Horse. You’re nothin’ but public pussy, a little house mouse here to clean up my shit. One word from me and you’re gone, so I suggest you shut your fuckin’ mouth before I do it for you.”
I burst out laughing as she took a step closer to me. “House mouse? Sweet butt? Seriously? Bitch, please tell me you’re joking.”
She raked her eyes over me, going from my super cute and trendy bob that brushed my shoulders, to my pink tank top with “Support Your Local Iron Horse MC” on it, down to my jeans and kick-ass pink-and-black Dior sandals then back up. “Don’t see no patch on your back.”
It only took me a second to realize she was right, I wasn’t wearing my property patch, and I inwardly groaned when I realized Beach was going to be pissed. One of his main rules, one that he was inflexible on, was that if I was at the clubhouse, I wore his property patch on my back. I’d had it on earlier, but had taken it off during the lunch prep because I didn’t want to get it dirty.
Before I could look around for it, Scarlet was at my side in her cute cherry print summer dress, my vest in her hands and her gaze hard as she stared down the redhead. “Take a walk, Lisa.”
“Fuck you, Scarlet.” One of the women standing with Lisa tried to tug on her arm, but the redhead shook her off. “This isn’t any of your business.”
“Actually,” Scarlet cocked her hip then held her free hand out in my direction, “it is my business when you fuck with my Prez’s woman. Meet Sarah Star, Beach’s old lady. You know, the person he’d kill anyone for insulting?”
As I slid the vest on, Lisa’s face began to pale, then red suffused her cheeks as she sucked in a harsh breath. “Shit.”
“Yeah,” I said in a sweet voice, “shit. I suggest you move your ass out of my kitchen, now.”
Oh, that pissed her off, and for a second I thought she might throw a punch at me, but she looked away and muttered, “Fine.”
I stared at her back as she walked away, memorizing her patch so I could keep an eye on her in the future.
Most of me was glad I didn’t have to kick her ass with kids around, but the bloodthirsty killer that lived deep inside me would have enjoyed a good fight.
“Sarah?” came Marley’s familiar voice from behind me, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. “When do you think we should start feeding the kids?”
I turned, giving my friend a bright smile as Scarlet returned to spooning out a huge pot of mashed potatoes into giant plastic bowls. “Ask Loretta, she’s in charge of the food for the rug rats. I think she’s out front at the grills with Hustler and Venom.”
Marley bit her lower lip and I had to fight my instinctive urge to fix whatever was bothering her. I couldn’t help it; she appeared all of sixteen years old with her very petite body and big brown eyes. You’d never know it by looking at her that she had an almost two-year-old son. She looked good in her modest jean shorts and tight pink “Support your local Iron Horse MC” shirt, but there was still a softness about her that the world hadn’t been able to harden with its cruelty. While she was no longer my assistant, she did take care of my home back in Las Vegas, making sure the main building was take care of. And we had a strong bond, the kind of bond that not even distance could break.
“Okay, I’ll go talk to them.” She bit her lip harder before releasing it with a sigh.
Thinking she was feeling a little shy around all the brothers, I smiled at her. “Do you want me to go with you?”
She shook her head, her dark ponytail swinging behind her. “No. No, I’m okay. There are just a lot of really burly manly men here.”
“Are they making you uncomfortable? I thought I made sure to let everyone know you’re not only my friend, but one of my closest friends, here as Beach’s personal guest, and that I’d slice the ears off anyone who messed with you.”
Marley burst out laughing. “Awww, that’s so sweet of you.”
“Shut up, bitch.”
For a moment her cinnamon brown eyes went distant, then she focused back on me with a huff. “That’s why I can’t get anyone to talk with me.”
“I thought something was wrong with me. Any guy I tried to talk to out there acted like I had the plague. They were chatting up the skanks hanging out by the horseshoe pit, but if I looked their way and smiled, they ignored me.” She poked me in the shoulder. “Thanks for the cockblock.”
A couple women snickered around me and Scarlet spoke up. “Honey, if any guy out there is worth his salt, he isn’t going to let threats stop him from talking with you. Might stop him from trying to dip his spoon into your honeypot, but he won’t run away if you strike up a conversation.”
Marley sighed, scooting back as a woman with a tray loaded down with chicken wings hustled past us. “I thought maybe I could end my sexual drought while on vacation. I haven’t been with a guy in over two years. In fact, the last time I had sex, I got pregnant. Kinda puts a damper on the idea of being intimate with anyone. I mean, I have stretch marks now and stuff. Not exactly a hot guy’s version of a dream girl.”
“Bullpucky.” Mouse, Beach’s lovable mom and one of my favorite people on earth, looked up from where she was putting plastic silverware into the containers that would go on the picnic tables. “You’re as cute as a button and no good man is gonna be put off by a little softness or a few marks. Where do you think the term MILF came from? You just keep bein’ you and the right man will snap you up the moment he lays eyes on you.”
“And,” Scarlet added with a grin, “you have DSLs. Those boys don’t stand a chance.”
“Dick-sucking lips,” I told my obviously confused friend along with an exaggerated blowjob motion complete with hand action.
Blushing bright red, Marley stuttered out something that I couldn’t hear over the laughter around me. I couldn’t help but feel love for my girls as they easily brought Marley into their fold. Maybe it was because these women were constantly judged by society for being “biker bitches”, but they were some of the most nonjudgmental people I’ve ever met, and once they felt they could trust you, they would bend over backwards to help.
One of the women nearby, an older lady with brassy red hair piled on top of her head and a big smile, spoke up. “It’s a crime a pretty little thing like you doesn’t have a man at home. I’ve seen your boy, he’s adorable, and you’re a good mama. You’re a treasure waiting for the right man to find you, so hold out for a good one. You listen to me, I’ve been married three times and my first two husbands were complete bastards. Don’t settle for anything less than a patch on your back and someone your son can be proud to have as a daddy.”
My friend blinked at her, then hesitantly smiled. “Uh—thank you.”
“Sarah,” Beach’s distinctive voice bellowed from outside. “Come here, woman. Now.”
“Yes, darling.” I sighed as I looked around and said in a lower voice, “Good thing he’s hot, ’cause otherwise I’d have shot him a long time ago.”
“My sexy bitch,” Beach bellowed, and I knew he knew he was annoying me. “I said bring your tight ass over here.”
All the women erupted into giggles as I visibly twitched. Okay, not all of them, a few sour grapes were still pissy that I was Beach’s old lady, but I paid them no mind. I had better things to think about, like the tanned and toned epitome of biker hotness waiting for me. A little tingle went through me as I anticipated the feeling of his body against mine, of his scent filling me while he held me close. We couldn’t be near each other without touching in some way.
What they didn’t know was that I hadn’t jumped because of his bellow, but because he’d chosen that moment to turn on the vibrator held against my clit by my panties. I had no one but myself to blame for this situation. After all, I was the one who’d been online toy shopping while he was away doing club business, and had bought it for him.
What can I say, Carlos Rodriguez was a complete freak between the sheets, and I loved it.
The vibrator began to pulse gently and I bit back a moan, trying to keep the pleasure off my face. When I’d given the box containing the panties to him this morning, wrapped up all pretty with a bow, he’d given me such a predatory look that I’d been two heartbeats away from saying screw the picnic and screwing him instead. As he’d watched me slip the special black panties on, then position the bullet against my clit, his cock had been pressing against the worn denim of his faded jeans like it was trying to tear through the thick fabric to get to me. The toy combined his love of me in lingerie with something that got me off, so he considered it the perfect gift. I know my man, and the fact that he would have complete control of my arousal made him happy.
Thank goodness, because he was beginning to worry me. Something big was going on and with every passing day, the air of tension and alertness around him grew. Even now, in the middle of a family picnic, I noticed more nomads were visiting us than usual, and they were all watching the property like a bunch of unchained, territorial pit bulls. These guys, for various reasons, didn’t belong to any particular club, but they were still part of Iron Horse. They roamed the land, going where they were needed, and usually fucking someone’s shit up royally while they were there. For sure they were a different breed of biker, the kind that didn’t like to form attachments to anything or anyone, but they loved their president.
I just didn’t know why they were here. Yeah, they all came to visit ’cause we were the national chapterhouse, like bees returning to the hive, but so many of them at once, clearly on alert, sent my Spidey sense tingling. We weren’t in danger quite yet, but the potential hung in the air, gathering around the men like a deepening gloom. Not saying I can see auras like my friend Indigo can, but I felt bad shit coming over the horizon, and couldn’t figure out what form that danger would come in.
Beach carried the burden of the entire MC on his broad and capable shoulders, and he’d pulled away from me a little bit over the past weeks. Nothing major, but enough that I knew he was getting trapped in his own head. If he didn’t give his mind at least a little bit of rest he was going to break, and there was no way in hell I was going to let the happen I’d grown used to my loving, attentive man over the past ten months and I hated seeing him stressed out like this. The only way I could seem to reach him was physically, and if that’s what it took then I had no qualms about seducing my man. It was only after a good round of rough sex that he would calm down enough to untie me and make love to me. If he was feeling particularly feisty that night, he might make me sleep next to him with our wrists bound together by sheep-skin-lined cuffs. Most women would balk at that, but I understood his need to make sure I was safe by his side even in sleep, that I wouldn’t be taken from him when he was most vulnerable. It was kind of sweet in a slightly stalker-esque way.
The low hum of the vibrator sent tingles through me and I could just imagine the smirk on Beach’s slightly weathered face.
I lifted my hand against the glare of the sun, my eyes taking a moment to adjust after the dimness of the kitchen. The shouts of children and men’s booming laughter filled the air, and I fought to keep from smiling when I spotted Beach standing tall and proud with a group of rough guys. I noticed that his attention was now totally on me and couldn’t help the big grin that curved my lips. Tingles that had less to do with the vibrator and more to do with the insane chemistry between us sparked to life in my belly.
Never in my life had I been this content, this secure, and this happy. All because of an outlaw biker with eyes as dark as the deepest sapphire. He raised a brow, as if asking why I was just standing there, and I started moving again, refusing to admit to myself that he affected me as much as he did.
Thanks to all the recent rain, the grass was a thick, lush green and a group of young boys were barefoot, running through it while they played with bubbles and toy trucks. Beach assigned the Prospects with yard duty and had them literally crawling through the play area for the really young kids on their hands and knees, picking up anything that could go into a curious toddlers mouth. That was Beach, always looking out for his people in ways I’d never even think of.
A few people called my name, but I gave them a smile and a small wave, letting them know I’d talk to them later.
As in after-I-fucked-the-shit-out-of-my-man-or-vice-versa later. He’d been gone so much lately, flying across the US to visit different clubs, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was all about. Not that I’d pushed him much. Truly, I was better off not knowing some of the things Beach did on a daily basis, and I was okay with that. I just wished he could confide in me a little more so I could help ease the pressure on him. Yeah, I supported him whenever and wherever I could at the clubhouse, but I wish he could see what an asset I could be helping out with the business aspects of the club as well. But nooooo. I was a girl, and girls couldn’t possibly understand the oh-so-complicated work the menfolk did.
If Beach wasn’t so hot, I’d flick his balls for being a macho pig.
Today my man wore a clean white t-shirt under his cut that displayed his bunching, tattooed biceps, flexing nicely as he raised his beer and took a drink. I wanted to taste the beer on his tongue, smell the sun on his skin. His usual and ever-changing posse of men circled around their president, all of their eyes on me as I strutted across the backyard, the black spangles on my new Dior sandals twinkling with my every step. They were a gift from Beach, and I admit I might have squealed when I saw them. I couldn’t help it, with their pale pink sole that had a pearl-like shimmer, they were so pretty, any woman would have gone a little starry eyed.
Beach had certainly enjoyed the stellar blow job he’d received as thanks for the extravagant gift.
He’d liked it even more when they were the only thing I wore while he fucked me.
A bandage gleamed white against his muscled forearm and my gut clenched, not liking that he’d gotten wounded while he was on his last run. The thought of him being seriously injured while we were apart constantly haunted me, but I had to learn how to live with the fact that he was a bad man who occasionally did really bad things. Since I’d killed two people…wait, make that three—no, probably more—I had no room to judge.
I was glad he was finally home, and not just for my own selfish reasons. The club felt safer while he was here, as if the malevolent presence waiting to strike couldn’t compete with the Beach’s formidable presence. I know it sounds corny as hell, but some people are born with extra charisma, dangerous amounts of it, and Beach had that intangible strength in spades. It made him a natural-born leader, someone people wanted to follow because they truly liked him. Some even loved him, but no one loved him like me. We’d become ingrained in each other’s lives and I really needed him to hold me in his arms again and make me feel safe. The only time I didn’t have to fight the world, that I could relax, was in his arms.
As if he’d read my mind, as soon as I reached him, he looped an arm around my waist and tugged me close, his lips meeting mine in a hard kiss that had my pussy clenching in need. I was so greedy for him, dying to have him inside of me again even though we’d had a quickie a couple hours ago after he’d had church with the other brothers to discuss club business. He’d been in a harsh mood and had spanked my ass hard before he fucked me, but that just made the multiple orgasms he gave me all the better. I’d take any punishment he dished out with a smile and happily beg for more. Shame had no place in our love life, and I adored every hedonistic moment of it.
“Hey, babe,” he murmured against my lips before releasing me, the taste of beer hovering on his lips. “Love those shoes on you.”
Some of the darkness had gone from his sapphire-blue eyes and I smiled up at him. “Hi, handsome. What can I say, my man has good taste.”
Specks of lighter blue gleamed in his dark eyes. “That I do.”
I couldn’t help but smile wider at his obvious double meaning, and gave him another kiss before I nipped his lower lip hard enough to sting.
Abruptly the vibrator in my panties, which had been a subtle and pleasant hum, rocketed up a notch or two, and I sucked in a harsh breath while my knees went weak and I leaned into him.
Beach held me tighter to his body and lowered his mouth to my ear, tucking my hair behind it as he whispered, “Is your pussy wet for your Papi?”
The vibrations eased down and I had to fight the urge to bite his neck, hard. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I’d sure as fuck would like to know,” Sledge muttered from behind me.
Without looking, I threw an elbow into his heavily muscled sternum hard enough to make his breath come out in a huff of laughter.
“Fuck off, and stay out of my personal space, you perv.”
“Hey,” Sledge said with a slight wheeze, a big grin lighting up his sculpted face as he stood next to a glowering Beach. “Not my fault you two can’t keep your hands off each other. It’s the best live sex show I’ve ever seen. By all means, carry on.”
Sledge had, unfortunately, walked in on Beach and me one night at the clubhouse when Beach had decided to fuck me while I was chained to his desk wearing a slutty secretary outfit. It had been hot—so hot, I’d had no idea someone had opened the door. No, I was too busy writhing and begging my Papi to fuck me harder with his huge dick. To make his good girl hurt.
When Sledge walked in to find Beach slamming into me from behind while spanking me with a ruler, the vice president had been so shocked he’d just stood there with his eyes bugging out before he turned around and left without a word.
I’m pretty sure we scarred him for life.
I’d hoped he’d be cool about it, and he had been—to a point. I mean, he never told anyone else in the club about our little naughty secretary scene, but he’d say sly little things like that and I’d want to punch him in his smirking face. And he kept buying Beach new rulers.
Beach dialed down the vibrator again to a background hum as he turned to talk to some dark-bearded guy with crooked front teeth I didn’t know.
Sledge chuckled and drew my gaze back to him, the thick lines of the black tattoos covering his body flexing beneath his white tank top and black leather vest. “Damn, I get a proximity hard-on just by bein’ around you two.”
As I glared at him, I took in his new look, having to admit it really brought out his light brown eyes beneath his thick black brows. Sledge no longer sported a mohawk, instead going for a totally shaved bald head that gave him a sinister edge. It made him look more intimidating, he had that total Latin thug look going on with all his tattoos and thick gold earrings, but he was also a good guy who worked his ass off to help Beach keep Iron Horse running in the free and clear. He also had a sweet as pie mother and five sisters he adored who I considered friends.
That meant I couldn’t kick his ass, like I really wanted to at times like this. “Go away, Sledge. Don’t you have some sweet butt to go bother?”
“Nah, I say suck, they say how hard. No challenge there. You’re a lot more fun. So is your cute little friend Marley. Just my type with those sweet, big brown doe eyes of hers. And that tight little ass…” he whistled then licked his lips. “She’s fuckin’ sweet.”
I snarled at him, no longer screwing around. “Stay away from Marley.”
He laughed, the asshole, then shook his head at me. “Ohhh, Mama Bear is protective.”
“I mean it, Sledge. Marley’s had a rough life even before she became a single mom. She needs someone safe and stable in her life.”
“I think she needs a man between her legs.”
“And I think you need to remember that I give douchebags titty-twisters.”
Sledge burst out laughing then rubbed his hand over his left nipple. “Fuck, I’d think you’re just talkin’ shit but my fuckin’ chest still hurts from where you assaulted me last week.”
“I assaulted you? Please, I was going to assault your lippy piece of ass that you let wander around the clubhouse and rub up against my man. Not my fault you got between me and her.”
To my surprise, Sledge appeared chagrined and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was still passed out when she decided to go hit the kitchen.”
The memory of the skank trying to cop a feel on Beach while I made him and some of the brothers breakfast at the clubhouse still made me bristle. “She’s lucky you stepped in.”
He grinned then shook his head. “Don’t I know it.”
Beach, who’d been talking to the bearded man while Sledge and I bitched at each other, moved up behind me and slid my cute hair over to the side, kissing my neck lightly. “I think it’s fuckin’ hot when you fight over me.”
“I know you do, weirdo.”
“I think it’s hot too,” Sledge said with a dirty grin. “When that chick at the party three weeks ago ripped off your top while you were fighting, I ’bout came in my pants.”
Groaning, I stared at the sky. “Why are you always around at my worst moments?”
“I’m a lucky bastard,” Sledge replied with an unrepentant grin. “Somehow your clothes just seem to melt away around me.”
“Watch yourself,” Beach growled as his hands landed in a possessive grip on my hips.
Sledge nodded and raised his hands. “No offense meant, but your old lady is fun to get riled up and none of those situations were my fault. In fact, I believe I should be the offended party here. You’ve exposed me to your private life without my consent. I think I’ve been violated. I feel so dirty…wash me, Mommy.”
“You sick asshole,” I said through gritted teeth while the vibrator began to pulse against my clit. Shit. So damn good.
“What was that? You’re lookin’ a little flushed, mamacita. You need to go inside and cool down?” He studied me then his eyes widened. “You’re turned on…holy shit, I think you might come.”
“Am not!” I screeched, unable to control the pitch of my voice while Beach toyed with my body, a satisfied look on his face that made me wild for him.
Laughing, Beach pulled me up against him and the feel of his erection pressing into me had me stiffening. It was either pretend I was a statue or twerk like Miley Cyrus on Ecstasy while moaning like the wanton slut Beach turned me into. I couldn’t help it, he totally indulged my every fetish, and I repaid the favor. In spades.
Memories of some of the rather exotic role-play we’d done raced through me and I couldn’t help but bite my lower lip hard enough to hurt.
He placed his hand around my throat, gripping me lightly in a clearly possessive move that let everyone watching us know I was his. “What can I say? I’m blessed with a woman who has a hungry pussy. Always wants my dick.”
“What?” I yelled, or tried to yell. Fucker turned the vibrator up to high and the last part of that word came out in a croak.
Running his hands up into my hair, he pulled my head back and proceeded to kiss me long and deep, my body already throbbing from the delicious torture in my panties. I nipped at his tongue, still pissed about his hungry comment—yuck—and angry that he was getting me so wound up in public. True, it was now just Sledge in the immediate area, but there were people hovering all around us, waiting to catch Beach’s attention. He was well loved and respected as their president, and that meant everyone felt they could talk with him about every little bit of bullshit under the sun. If it wasn’t for the Enforcers running interference, we’d be mobbed with people right now, even while we were trying to kiss each other’s faces off.
As much as Beach loved his brothers, he loved me more, and my safety meant they didn’t approach my man when I was around unless they had permission.
Abruptly his hold on me loosened and I sagged slightly when I realized I’d been leaning into his grip as he shouted over my shoulder, “I’m off-limits for the next hour.”
Laughing, his dark eyes twinkling in a way that would make any woman take notice, Sledge nodded. “Got it. You go have fun, Prez, don’t forget I put some extra rulers in your bedside table.”
I flipped Sledge off as we left, which only made him laugh harder.
“Beach,” I protested as we barged our way through startled-looking people, “wait—we need to eat.”
In response, he turned up the vibrator to a level that had me making a startled shriek that drew even more attention to us. “Oh, I plan on eating, and feeding you all the dick you can take. Papi’s home and he’s in the mood to play.”
I blinked at him, my body shuddering as the effects of his words and that darned vibrator were reducing me to non-thinking state. Oh fucking hell, that meant I wasn’t going to be able to walk without wincing tomorrow. Little electrical darts of pleasure seemed to speed through my body as he slowed the wonderfully evil device humming away between my legs to a level that let me breathe.
My clit was so swollen, each step brought me closer to orgasm. A light sweat broke out on my brow and adrenaline flooded me, along with the need to fuck. It felt so good to press my thighs together and squeeze the humming device harder against me. I bet I could come like this if I had just a little bit more stimulation. Someone called out in greeting to us as we passed, but I ignored everyone but the man clutching my wrist in a possessive grasp that made me breathless.
Beach dragged me up the two flights of stairs leading to the third level, barking at men we passed that he’d shoot anyone stupid enough to disturb him. I got more than one smirk, and envious looks from the women, thrown my way as he dragged me to his private room.
The moment we were inside, I relaxed, taking in the décor of the room Beach had let me redesign. I’d decluttered it from the crap that had piled up over the years, then selected some of his favorite mementos to display around the room. One of my personal favorites was the huge blown up black-and-white picture of the Iron Horse MC back when Beach’s grandpa had been president, complete with dramatic but tasteful lighting. His blonde-haired, Bettie-Davis-looking grandma stood next to her husband, who bore a striking resemblance to my man, his hard gaze holding the camera as he silently dared anyone to fuck with him.
Even though the picture was taken in the 1940s, the men captured forever in that moment on film could have been partying downstairs right now. Yeah, their hair styles were different and the clothes outdated, but these men all held the same predatory stare and wordless arrogance as the current group of Iron Horse MC brothers. Somehow in this photo, they’d managed to capture a little bit of the wild spirit of these men, and I marveled again at the history of the club that I was an integral part of now.
I was the president’s old lady and I felt more pride about that than any other title I’ve ever held.
The rough scrape of Beach’s weathered hands on my shoulders had me cuddling back into him, not realizing I’d moved to stand before the image.
With the vibrator now purring softly against my sensitive pussy, the feel of Beach’s lips on my neck, giving me those bone-meltingly soft kisses, gave me goose bumps. “You love this picture, don’t you, baby.”
“I do.” My voice came out in a husky whisper.
“Mmmm.” His teeth nipped at the side of my throat and I couldn’t help but offer myself to my Papi with a big smile. “Much as I love watchin’ you get lost in the past, I got plans for mi riena in the present.”
Turning in his arms, I laced my hands behind his neck and toyed with his hair. “I really missed you. Like a lot. Our bed feels so empty without you.”
Pain flashed through his eyes and I felt bad for souring this sweet moment between us. Before I could apologize, Beach placed his finger on my lips. “I missed you too. Swear this shit is gonna be over soon, just a little bit longer, and we’ll finally be able to just fuckin’ chill. Gonna take you down to the island and kick everyone except the maid and the chef off. Then I’m gonna live inside your sweet body until you can’t remember what it’s like to not have me between your thighs.”
“That sounds lovely.” Lying my head against his chest, I ran my fingers along the edges of his thick leather vest, the heat of his body warming me. “I don’t like you being so busy, but it’s okay, really it is. I’m fine. It’s not like I’m ever really alone, even when you’re not here. The other old ladies are over at our place, or I’m visiting friends. And don’t forget Marley is staying in that condo you own at the bottom of the hill leading to our house. I’ve seen her every morning and evening since she’s been her. She even stayed later than she originally intended because you were gone so I got extra Marley and Scottie time, which is always a win.”
“Not the same as havin’ your man home in your bed. I know that, and wish I didn’t have to be away from you for a minute, but shit I’m dealin’ with right now is too important to trust to someone else.”
A tiny part of me resented the fact that I knew he wouldn’t tell me why he had to be away from me, or what he was doing that kept him awake at night. He worried, a lot, and his tension had begun to seep into me. It made me more aware of the world around me and had me looking for enemies around every corner even though I was better protected than I’d ever been in my life…except when I was at my dad’s place out in Nowheresville, Texas. I know Beach couldn’t tell me because what he was doing was most certainly illegal, and there was an unspoken oath among the Iron Horse MC brothers to not discuss certain shit with their old ladies.
“It sucks, but I’ve got plenty of toys to satisfy me.”
“Satisfy you? You really think those pieces of plastic can compare to what I can do for you? You think they can fuck you until you cry? Make you come until your eyes roll back in your head?”
Whoops, wrong thing to say. Then again, I always enjoyed it when a tiny bit of his anger flavored our sex. Not angry in a bad way, but more in like an “I’ve got something to prove” way. Sometimes, a man being macho could be very, very nice.
Blinking up at him, I gave Beach my best innocent look and said, “What, Papi?”
His whole body seemed to swell and his gaze focused on me until I knew I was the only thing he was thinking about. A happy little glow kindled in my chest, knowing I’d managed to distract him from his worries, to totally connect with him and give him the pleasure he so desperately needed. Much like me, sex helped Beach relax like nothing else and I know he doesn’t fuck anyone but me. Besides, I’m the only person he ever lets his guard go down all the way with. Even surrounded by his brothers, he’s on constant alert but with me, he knows I can take care of not only myself, but both of us. That makes us equals in his eyes.
In a way, I think Beach views me more as an extension of himself than a separate person.
My arm-chair psych evaluation of my man disappeared from my mind when Beach fisted his hand in my hair hard enough to deliciously sting. “Looks like Papi has a brat on his hands tonight.”
I gave him a totally unapologetic smile that had a dimple appearing in his cheek. “I’m always a good girl.”
His snort of laughter had me grinning, but that smile fell from my lips when he gave my ass a brisk slap.