MC Bear My Baby (Beartooth Brotherhood MC) (6 page)

M
olly put
the last pair of sweatpants away in the guest room drawer. Shoving it closed with her hip, she unwound the gauze Tate had put on her wrist at her house. That thing was overkill. Stuffing it in a side pocket of her bag, she left and closed her door. She needed a stiff drink at the bar. Just as she took the first step down the flight of stairs, Tate’s voice floated upward past all the others.

“Come on, man. Don’t give me that—”

She froze in the spot to listen. This could get interesting, hearing what he really thought of this Jett situation.

One of the top guys, probably Cole said, “It’s the truth, brother. It’s clear as day there’s something going on between you two.”

“Whatever, man.”

“And now, with both of you in spitting distance of knocking boots every second, you’re trying to tell me you and Molly don’t have a thing?”

Leave it to Cole to spare the sugar coating on the situation. Molly held her breath, unsure whether she wanted to hear how Tate would react. Her heart raced against her rib cage and she swallowed past her sickly sweet fear, balling her hands into fists at her side. She had half a mind to charge down there and give them all crap for talking shit behind her back. The problem was that now her curiosity was piqued. She had to know, and didn’t care if anyone saw her at the top of the stairs in this not so discrete hiding spot.

“Women have a way of growing on you, so you’d better watch out.” Silas laughed. “I didn’t plan on Sabrina either.”

She bit her lip wondering where the old ladies were right now. Clearly they weren’t down there listening. Sabrina would probably have been the first to shut them down. Molly sighed, running her hands down her hips. Why wasn’t Tate speaking up? She wanted to hear his take on things, dammit. She fiddled with her fingers, twisting them in front of her body. God, why was she so nervous, anyway? This whole thing was ridiculous.

“Dudes, give me a fucking break,” Tate said, adding a disgusted scoff. “Molly’s cool and shit, but this isn’t some fairytale. She knows what we have. We’re both damn good at scratching each other’s itch, nothing more, nothing less. There aren’t hearts or diamonds in our future.”

“Bullshit,” Silas added.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re seeing, man. Trust me, we’re both lucky if she doesn’t get sick of being here in the next six days, let alone start a thing. We’re both banging everything in sight as is and we’re both cool with it.”

There was an odd wave of silence. Molly’s jaw was locked as she exhaled with her eyes closed and inhaled again, calming herself down so she wouldn’t charge down the steps and beat Tate to a bloody pulp. There was a big difference between casually sleeping together and being insanely rude about it. Tate had jumped that line and was running toward a verbal cliff, acting as if their time together was as routine as making a gourmet coffee run every morning.

“Sleeping with Molly, that’ll be over in five and then we can grab a beer,” she muttered to herself. “Douchebag.”

In his mind she amounted to a nice little hole where he could put his cock. Forget any kind of friendship. He’d put her in the same league as the twisted claws that he had one night stands with on a regular basis…but they’d been sleeping together consistently on and off again for way longer than any of those other women. It wasn’t as if she was expecting a ring, but he owed her some respect. She blinked while the rejection burned hot in her veins and she physically tried to shake it off. No amount of wiggling would erase his little sound bite from her brain. God, she knew he was fucked in the head, but this took it to a whole other level. Before she could totally go off the deep end with it, she forced her rubbery legs into action and went down the clubhouse stairs. She took them one deliberate step at a time, hands on her hips, eying each of the five men as they gabbed away like roosting hens, until Silas saw her about halfway down the flight.

There was only one way to approach this situation—and it didn’t involve kid gloves.

Molly zeroed in on Axe. He was swigging beer from a bottle as his thunderous laugh rocketed around the clubhouse bar. Yup, he would do perfectly for the job. She sped up, springing down the remaining steps until she broke through the circle of men and slung her arm around Axe’s waist with a tight squeeze.

“Mind if I borrow that?” When Axe looked down at her in confusion, she snagged his half-empty bottle and took a dainty sip. “It was a long ride over here and I could go for an above average
refreshment
.”

“Is that so, baby?”

Axe’s brow furrowed but his strong, lean arm locked around her waist. All the men looked on at their little foray into flirting. She was a little rusty. The last time she’d come on to anyone she was three sheets to the wind and the guy was a notorious womanizer. Her current target was a little more subtle and she was way less drunk.

“Want to come with me to the bar? I could use the company…” Molly winked at him, not so subtly licking her lips in what she hoped was coming across as seductive.

“Why don’t you take Tate?” Axe leaned down and whispered against the lobe of her ear, all the while playing along with her little game.

She rose up and whispered back, “Isn’t it obvious?”

Axe grunted, tightened his hold around her waist, and leaned down to sniff the side of her neck. He lingered an extra-long time, nuzzling a small spot.

“You’re a sweet little minx, aren’t you?” He said loud enough for everyone to hear, including Tate who was standing less than six feet away from them. “I like where you’re going with that train of thought. Yeah, I’ll get you a drink. I’ll get you anything you want, sweetheart.”

“It’s good to know someone around here will take care of me,” Molly traced the side of Axe’s face with her fingers, giving him a megawatt come-hither smile that would knock any guy on his ass.

Meanwhile, Axe was playing his part perfectly. He grabbed a handful of her thick dark hair, smiling. She shot upward, squeaked, and told him he was being a naughty boy.

“Oh does that mean you’re waiting for Tate to step up and show me who’s boss?” He arched one brow, stole back his beer, and snatched her hand that was busy tracing down the ridges of his six-pack abs through his shirt. “We can make that happen, all Tate has to do is say the word. I’d love to see you with a little less clothes on. Maybe a fucking striptease is in order…and I do mean
fucking
. Tate? You game for me making a move on your, uh…your client?”

Molly didn’t dare look at Tate. She gauged her reactions by the expressions of the other three bikers standing around, and judging by their confusion, she was doing a damn good job. A not so subtle heat rose up to her cheeks and she bit her lip. Unsure if she could seriously go on with the charade. Axe seemed to know exactly what this was about, and he had her back. While she was floundering, he put his hand on her lower back, winked at the men, and steered her over at Tate without another word. Tate didn’t say a thing, so she and Axe stepped over to the bar arm-in-arm. Axe poured her a shot, grinning as if that was the most fun he’d had all day.

“Well, how’d I do?” she fake batted her lashes at him and reached to feel up his bicep, just to keep up the rouse.

“That was fucking brilliant, Molly. You cool if I touch you again? He’s still looking over here like he’s going to shift and pound me into tomorrow. The kid has all the self-control of a bear cub the way he’s glaring right now.”

“Oh yeah, go for it. I want him so pissed he doesn’t stop grinding his teeth in his sleep for a week.”

Axe wolfishly grinned and slid a hand along her upper thigh as he brought his face in close, as if they would get it on right there. “Hey wait. This routine could probably work on chicks too. I say you should be my wingwoman next time I’m out on the prowl.”

“Sure, stud.”

“How much of the conversation did you hear from upstairs?” His eyes sparkled with mirth while she fought the urge to look back across the room.

“All of it. I think.”

Axe winced and took a long swig from his beer. “That sucks, but at least you know where you stand.”

“That’s a bright side.”

Axe snorted. Refilling her shot glass, he clinked his beer against it and gave her a grin. “If Tate doesn’t boil over in ten seconds flat, I’ll throat punch him for you.”

“You’re sweet. No need, though. I wasn’t looking for anything serious—”

“I get it, but it’s a respect thing… Drink up, little lady. It’s gonna be a long night with that motherfucker this pissed off.”

“Pissed off and acting the fool.” Molly downed her drink, slammed the small glass on the counter and watched as Axe gave her a refill.

“Shut up and drink. He’s seething.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Won’t be long now. How far are you willing to take this little game?”

“What are you concocting over there?”

“You’ll see,” he whispered. He leaned in as if he was going to kiss her, and Molly was still wrestling with whether to go for it when a familiar inked arm formed a barrier between them.

“The fuck?” Tate deadpanned to Axe, then he looked at Molly, his irate gaze shooting from one to the other and back again. “Nope, this ain’t happening, bro. Not with you.”

“Oh, it’s not, is it?” Molly asked, enjoying the way he turned eight different shades of red until he was almost purple with rage.

“Damn straight, it ain’t.”

It was kind of an intense reaction for someone who was supposedly only her fuck buddy. She clicked back into the moment just in time to watch Tate growl in his brother’s face. Axe made him back off with a quick, but unexpected swat to his chest that sent Tate off balance.

“It’s a free country and we’re just
scratching an itch
, right?” Molly hopped off the bar stool and glared up at him, tempted to knee him in the groin to get her point across.

She left him at Axe’s side, grinning as she headed back to the stairs. Yup, that felt just as she’d hoped it would. On her way there, she caught a tidbit of Cole’s conversation with Silas and decided to sit it out, acting as though she was still focused on Tate and Axe while she listened to their take on things.

“Bullshit. The kid’s involved with Molly up to his eyeballs. He looked like he coulda gone full bear on Axe the second the man touched her. Someone’s got to get him to man up and own it before the shit hits the fan.”

“Give him time. He’ll figure it out…or not,” Silas said, tapping his skull. “He’s a stubborn, twisted son of a bitch. It’ll take a hell of a woman to want him with all his fucking baggage, let alone pin him down.”

“Okay I’ve had enough of this henhouse crap. He’s on his own.” Cole looked around the main floor. “Where the hell’s my broad?”

“
W
ell
, that worked out nicely.” Molly talked to herself as she shoved her leg into a clean pair of black stretch pants after a long shower. She’d already settled on a stretchy v-neck tank top that was easily washable if she got any blood, sweat, or other fluids on her while patching up the boxers at the underground fighting ring where she worked. As she reached over the bed to snag her medical bag of supplies on the nightstand, her wrist was quickly covered by a familiar hand, and a large, warm body pressed up behind her, pinning her to the side of the bed.

She barely got a sound out before Tate found her other arm, holding both her wrists in an iron grip while he swiveled his hips against her ass. There was no hiding what he wanted. She was as tempted to push him away as she was to turn and let him take her. They both knew exactly what buttons to press with each other. Which was the problem.

“Get this straight, Moll,” he whispered in her ear. “In this clubhouse, you’re mine. Got it? Watching you play with Axe was bad enough…and you know what I’m capable of when my pet refuses to please me, don’t you?

Yeah, right. He could lie to himself all he wanted but if he kept up his game with the guys, she had no problem cutting him loose. Molly swallowed hard, making a quick decision as her pulse beat beneath his harsh grip locked around her wrists. Screw it.

Or him, more specifically—she’d play along. She could use the release after Jett had stepped up the stalking by breaking into her car. If Tate wanted to treat her like they were only fuck buddies, well, she’d put him to good use—starting now. With a low moan in her throat, she wiggled her ass against him, letting him know without words that she was on board with his plan.

“Say it, Molly. Say you’re mine,” he hissed in her ear. His free hand cupped her throat with a feather light squeeze that promised more if she didn’t do what he said. “Two words and I’ll fuck your pussy the way you know you like.”

“And what way is that?”

“So hard you won’t be able to walk right after. That’s a promise, baby.”

She couldn’t draw a full breath. Suddenly couldn’t think past his voice as he crooned in her ear, promising all kinds of sexual wickedness if she followed his orders. She kept her mouth shut. Maybe it was because of what she’d overheard downstairs. Or maybe it was because his double standard was pissing her off. Why the hell should she agree to saying she was his when he’d just dissed her like that? She pushed her ass backward into his hard cock still covered by his pants and swallowed, knowing there would be hell to pay for her silence.

She’d enjoy it either way.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, is it?” Tate’s displeasure poured through his tone until she was hot from head to toe and goosebumps were prickling across her flesh. “You just couldn’t make it easy for yourself, could you? Fine. Have it your way, little hell cat. I’ll teach you exactly who owns you.”

He growled his usual bear grunt, deep and dangerous and low in his throat, and ran his fingers down the front of her body, letting it come to rest over her mound. She was groaning now, nervous as the pressure built, unable to breathe as her need for air spiked adrenaline through her system. How far would he take this? He knew she had to be at work soon. When he let go of her, she barely had time to register the freedom. He took a short step backward and she heard him wrestling with some sort of clinking metal. She vaguely fought to identify the sound, and even in her uncertainty, the stimulation had her aroused. Her core was throbbing, her panties were wet and every small sensation seemed magnified against the sudden blast of chemistry between them.

He was muttering to himself, but she couldn’t make any words out. The only thing that was clear was his continued grip on her wrists, which he used to turn her around before lowering her to the bed. A full body shudder racked her body, then she went utterly still beneath him.

“If you know what’s good for you, doll, you’ll do exactly as I say or I’ll make you scream for the whole MC to know what I can do to you. I’m going to take my hands off your wrists, and you’re going to keep your arms over your head until I’m done with you.”

Molly licked her lips and gave him a head nod. It was heaven and hell rolled up into one keeping herself in place while she let him have every bit of control over her body. It was a game of wills that she herself enjoyed when Tate was in the lead. She had no idea what was coming for her tonight, but given his mood, she already knew it would be out of this world.

“Don’t you move,” he growled, slapping her ass for emphasis as she jolted against the bed. He lifted off the bed and all she could hear were his footsteps on the other side of the room. Glancing up, she looked over at him, but didn’t drop her gaze fast enough.

“I saw that. Strike one, Moll. Three strikes and you don’t get to come at all tonight.”

Her ass cheek still burned from his spanking, which she knew that wasn’t even close to full power. That memory of the sharp crack of his palm against her ass mingled with what he was about to do. Knowing Tate, he’d stop at nothing to make her say whatever the hell he wanted her to say, right up to driving her out of her mind. She angled for a comfortable position, which so wasn’t happening, not when he wanted her off center and uncomfortable. He rubbed his hands together with wicked glee and laughed. “Fuck, yes. It’s time to make you say it.”

After his proclamation she was more than a little surprised when he upped and walked out of the room. This was different. Her brow furrowed at the thought of what he was up to. She didn’t have long to wait. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and seconds later the door came open, quickly slamming shut again. Molly bit her lip when it echoed through the tense silence between them. She’d barely swallowed her small hint of fear when Tate’s hands fumbled at her waist. He gripped the waistband of her pants and dragged it down to her ankles along with her panties. Cool air licked her in intimate places and she fought the urge to squirm beneath his heated gaze. Oh God, she silently prayed he couldn’t see her obvious arousal.

The next second he parted her legs wide, hovering the violet wand a few inches from her opening. She nearly screamed, frantically resisting the electric jolt he threatened to deliver on her sensitive flesh. God, how she wanted it, but it seemed like Tate was all threat and no follow-through tonight. She wanted to tell him she needed their normal, but it was right there in his eyes. He was not doing their usual play, and he probably wouldn’t until this Jett scare was over. For now, he was playing it soft and tame, using the threat of everything they normally did without actually doing it. For whatever reason, he had her beside herself with need now, slick and longing for him, crawling with heat and desire, her whole body awake and alive.

“Shit!” she squealed as he moved the wand away without using it. Christ, it was agonizing.

“Oh, so for that you’ll open your fuckin’ mouth?” Tate tugged on the cord of the wand, nudging it out of the electric socket, then trailed the powerless device along her skin. He flipped her onto her stomach and used it to circling the hand print he’d surely left on her right ass cheek with his palm. His teasing made her squirm, awkwardly writhing and so on edge she could cry out. But she wouldn’t.

“If you say what I want, I might just bury my cock into that tight, wet pussy and pound you the way you like it. You have to give me what I want first, otherwise I leave you without anything to show for your trouble.”

Molly whimpered and twisted on the bed now. There had to be a better angle, but no matter what she did the comforter rubbed her hard nipples through her bra making every second total agony. She was as trapped as a pinned butterfly, and he was ready to stop altogether. His fingers lingered along her lower back, drawing her away from her thoughts until he raised her shirt up her body and unhooked her bra. He got to his feet again and she could hear his jeans being unzipped.

That’s when he traced his hot, thick, freed cock between her legs in a slow, teasing motion, showing her what he should have been doing inside her. That’s when she nearly lost her mind. She whimpered, writhing on the bed beneath him. It appeared he was just as needy. He growled, snatching a handful of her hair.

“Tell me what I want to hear and this goes away…” he taunted as his hot breath tickled her neck. “Just. Two. Little. Words.”

Her body bowed and bucked beneath him. Her pride wasn’t holding out. That was long gone and everything in her was silently screaming out for an orgasm. He reached one of his palms beneath her and cupped her breast in his hand, teasing the nipple as his cock dipped between her inner thighs, testing her resolve without giving her what she wanted. The sharp sting of almost-but-not-really-there contact combined with teasing her nipples drove her over the edge.

“Please,” she whispered, aching while he thrust his erection against her skin.

“Excuse me?” Tate jerked her head back slightly, still holding a thick handful of her hair in his fist. “Did you say something to me? It sounds like strike two, Moll.”

Dammit she was so close. One thrust would probably send her over the edge. Which the bastard knew already. Tate released her hair and slapped her ass cheek again—harder than the last time. And again. And again. Until she was beside herself and no longer knew up from down. It flared with sweet, delightful, painful heat that had her gasping for air and so close to the edge.

“Say it, Moll. Say you’re mine and this all ends. I’m so fucking hard for you. Just say it and this will all be over, for both of us, baby…” his coaxing made her groan. Still, no words came out of her lips.

“Maybe I should tie you up and leave you right here while I go back downstairs. How’d you like that, stuck up here until it’s time to go to work? Or maybe I’ll play with your clit and watch you writhe for me until you’re an inch from coming, then I’ll drive you to work.”

She wanted to tell him that would probably do the trick, sitting on the back of his bike with the vibrations thrumming through her core. She thought better of it, and then stopped thinking completely when his hand slipped from her breast, lowering under her until he was circling her sensitive spot in smooth, slow, taunting circles. Barely enough pressure, yet just enough to make her say just about anything.

“Fine!” Molly cried out desperately trying to yank herself away from his evil touch because nowhere on her body was safe from his hands.

“What do you have to tell me, Moll?”

“I’m yours,” she muttered absently.

“What?”

“I’m yours,” she cried out. “Just fuck my brains out so I don’t have to smash yours out of your goddamn skull.”

His chuckle made things in her lower belly tighten as she fought for composure.

“That’s my girl. Fierce and stubborn, but you eventually do whatever I say for the feel of my cock inside you.” He took his finger off her clit and she jerked backward as if he’d shocked her again. “Mmm…” he moaned, grabbing her hips until he filled her up and stretched her wide.

She was utterly lost and relishing the moment now that she’d gotten exactly what she wanted from him. That bruising pace. His hips slapping against her ass. Pleasure wrapping around her and winding her up tighter and higher, so close to where her body needed to be.

“Fuck, you’re tight and wet and goddamn rebellious for making me wait so long, Moll.” He nearly drew himself all the way out of her, thrusting in more deeply until an orgasm shot through her from her core up to her head and out her toes before she could take her next breath. It wrung all the air out from her lungs and she whimpered into the comforter while he continued to pump into her, extending her mindless state of euphoria. His utterings only kept the waves of pleasure rolling through her.

Molly longed for something to claw and mark, to grip while Tate hit her g-spot with every dip of his hips. There was no use keeping track of her thoughts. There was nothing flitting across her mind. It had all slipped away like magic. Another orgasm built in her center, and she cried out from the surprise of its force while he gripped the flesh of her hips, ready to release now. He bit her at the nape of her neck, making her body freeze from head to toe.

“Mine,” he growled out through a thick bite of her flesh beneath his teeth.

“Yes,” she conceded breathily until the orgasm washed over her damp, tender skin and her inner walls clenched tightly around him.

They came together as the world shattered beneath her feet.