Owned by the Outlaw (12 page)

She ran her palm up and down his length, swore it jerked
beneath her touch, and turned her head to the side so her lips were by his
scruffy cheek. Stinger turned his head to the side, too, and their lips brushed
ever so slightly. There wasn’t any pressure added, but there didn’t need to be.
Their breathing increased, and she loved the deep sounds that came from him. Her
clit throbbed, tingled, and wetness was a constant flow from her pussy. She
wanted him, but at the same time she knew she should be angry at him for
fighting with Malice. That annoyance rose up, but her lust was far stronger,
and pushed it down.

“You’re upset.” He didn’t phrase it like a question
and kept his lips lightly pressed to hers as he spoke. For some reason not
kissing him, but still being so very close to doing so was more erotic than the
actual act. “You should be.” He continued to curve his fingers around the flesh
of her breasts, teasing her nipple with his palm, and breathing heavily against
her mouth. “But you should also know that I did refrain. I could have easily
taken Malice down, and all it would have taken for me to do that was shift.”
Letting go of her ass and sliding his hand up the middle of her back, he buried
his hand in her hair and grabbed a chunk of it. At first he didn’t do anything
but hold the locks, massaging her scalp, and giving her this sense of comfort.
But then that all changed when he jerked her head back, baring her neck, and
immediately ran his teeth along the arch of her throat. “But I didn’t do that,
Molly, because as much as Malice needed his ass kicked for acting like a fool,
I didn’t want to hurt you further.” He loosened his hold on her hair enough for
her to lower her head and look him in the eyes.

“You’re so full of shit.” She breathed out, so
aroused she was about to combust spontaneously.

He grinned, flashing those white, straight teeth
once more. “Malice is one strong motherfucker, I’m not debating that, but he
isn’t a match against my bear.” He held her gaze. “He likes having control over
everything, that
much I could smell.”

“Yeah, he’s always been like that.” She didn’t want
to talk about Malice anymore. In fact, she didn’t want to talk period. “I don’t
belong to anyone.” Molly admitted, but only to herself, that she had said that partially
to get a rise out of Stinger. She wanted him primal and dominating.

That smile faded quickly from his face, and he
tightened his hold on her hair again. “That’s where you’re wrong, pretty girl.”
His gaze was unwavering, his expression stone cold. “You are
mine
, were mine the moment I saw you.
But all of that was cemented when I had my cock inside of your body.” He leaned
in close so they were nose-to-nose, and bared his teeth. His pupils dilated,
and she knew his bear was at the surface. The man she was looking at was a wild
beast at the moment, but she embraced that realization.

“How can you want someone so much that you just
met?” Molly was asking him as much as she was asking herself.

“When there is something in this world that consumes
your mind, makes it had to focus, and has your heart beating faster than it has
ever done before, you fight for it until blood flows and bones break.” Stinger
said that with such determination that she had no choice but to believe him and
accept his words. “And you are that to me, Molly.” He cupped the side of her
face and ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “Does it make sense? Fuck no, but
there are not a lot of things worth fighting for in this world.” And then his
mouth was on hers, and he kissed her like he was starving and she was his last
meal.

When he took her this time it was still primal and
intense, but there was also gentleness to his touches, kisses, and thrusts. He
was showing her without words what he had told her, and Molly accepted it all
and surrendered herself. She just hoped this didn’t backfire, and she didn’t live
to regret falling so hard or fast for the Grizzly MC shifter.

****
Malice
was pissed, unbelievably so, and he needed t cool off so he didn’t transfer
that negative energy to Dakota, who was out back playing with Tuck. When he
slammed the clubhouse door open with so much force it bounced off the wall and
had everyone stopping what they were doing, he just let out a low growl and
stalked toward the bar. It was too early for a drink, but fucking hell did it
sound good right now, like it would take off this wild edge inside of him. Ok,
so Molly and Stinger
were
a thing now. He didn’t think
it was just a quick screw in a motel room, because the way the other biker had
fought for her, had acted like she was his, made it pretty damn clear that he
was staying with the other of his child. “Shit.” He ran a hand over his face
and breathed out.

One of the girls that worked the club moved behind
the counter and set down the rag she had been using to clean on the counter.
“You thirsty or just parking?”

Malice looked up at her, saw that it was one of the
newer club pussies, and shook his head. No, he didn’t need alcohol to make him
feel less murderous.
“Nothing.”
He waved her off and
breathed out.

“You okay, man?” The sound of Pierce’s voice right
beside him had Malice dropping his hands and turning his head to the side. It
was clear Pierce had just gotten up, and he stank like old booze and pussy. The
other biker braced his elbow on the counter and ran his other hand over his
short black hair.

“I’m fine.” Malice wasn’t about to get into this
hellacious shit with anyone right now, least of all a prospect that wasn’t even
a patched in member yet. But Pierce’s year was almost up, and he was a good and
loyal man. He’d make a great addition to The Brothers of Menace, but that was a
group vote, and not until he had put his time in. “I don’t want to get into
it.”

Peirce nodded. “No
sweat,
just saw your face—”

Malice glared at the other man, saying without words
that the bruises and cuts on his earlier fight were probably not the best thing
to talk about right now.

A woman that looked like she had also just gotten
up, and had been fucked two ways to Sunday, came stumbling out of one of the
back rooms. Her bleached blonde hair was a rats’ nest on the side of her head,
her mascara was smeared under her eyes, and her clothes—what was left of them
anyway—were all skewed on her body.

“Hey, baby.” She ran her hand over Pierce’s bare
arm. The biker wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his chest, arms, and even the backs
of his hands were covered in intricate ink. Just seeing Pierce walk down the
street would have probably scared the shit out of anyone, given his huge-ass
size and the piercings and ink he sported.

Pierce pushed her off, but turned so he could face
her. “Thanks for last night.”

It was a pretty
douchy
thing to say to a woman he just fucked, but it wasn’t like Malice had never
said those words. Malice turned and saw Lucien coming out from a backroom,
already dressed in his jeans, t-shirt and cut, and looking like he had just
showered. The President stopped when he saw Malice watching him, then cocked a
dark brow when he took in his face. Lucien tilted his head to the meeting room
and headed toward it.

“I’ll catch you later,” Malice said to Pierce, but
before the other man could respond Malice was moving toward the room Lucien had
just gone into. He shut the door once inside, and stared at Lucien’s back. The
other man was staring out the window that was positioned right behind his seat
at the head of the meeting table.

“I hope the other guy at least took a beating, too.”
Lucien didn’t look at him after he spoke, but Malice could hear the joking
quality in his voice. “It was the bear shifter, wasn’t it?” He did turn around
them and stared at Malice with a stoic expression.
“Stinger?”

Malice breathed out, ran his hand along his jaw and
over his beard, and knew that starting anything with the Grizzlies was not in
the best interest of the club since Molly wasn’t his. He nodded.
“Yeah, got into it earlier with him.
He’s got a few
scratches.”

Lucien nodded but kept his expression neutral.

Malice’s blood was still pumping fiercely, and he
knew that although he really had no right to fight Stinger over Molly, he would
still brawl with the other man if it came down to it. He was feeling mighty
fierce right now, like he could slam his fist into the side of a concrete wall
and not even
feel
it.

“
You trying
to get Molly
back or something?” Lucien asked with all seriousness in his voice.

Malice didn’t answer right away, because honestly he
didn’t know how he was feeling. “We haven’t been together in a long time—”

“Yet you’re starting shit with another club—one that
we are on good terms with—and you don’t know if you want her back?” There was
no anger or animosity in Lucien’s voce, but he did want an answer, that was
clear in his tone.

“I don’t know how I feel about that, but what I do
know is that I’m not about to let some fucking guy—Grizzly or not—be a father
to my kid.” Malice was getting pissed, and going to the barn for a bareknuckle
fight was sounding more tempting by the second.

Lucien stared at him for a few seconds and then
nodded slowly. “Do what you got to do, but the end result better be fuckin’
worth it and not interfere with the club, Malice.” He held Malice’s gaze with
his own. “I fucking mean it.”

Malice grunted in response, because he knew if he
responded verbally right then he might have said something that was not
appropriate to his President.

“But I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

“What’s up?” He leaned against the wall and stared
at Lucien.

“I was talking to Marx from the Fairview, Utah
charter, and he might need some help down there in the next couple of weeks.”

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“He has some girls that work the club, but because
the MC is stationed in that backwards town, the church, some of the police that
can’t back down for the religious pressure, and picketers that think it is a
sin and the devil’s work to sell pussy, they may need to get the women out of
there.”

“Why don’t we just get them now? I mean if it is
getting bad to the point they have reached and may need our help, shouldn’t we
just head out right now?”

Lucien shrugged. “No rash decision. Marx is going to
stay in contact, but he knows that we are holding up some women here, so that
is why he contacted us.”

Malice nodded, although to him it seemed more of a
logical decision to just head down if shit was getting stirred already.

“Anyway, if it comes down to it I want you and a
couple other guys to go pick up the women and bring them up here. Maybe Rock
and Ruin, but we will figure it out if and when it comes to that.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Lucien moved toward him and gripped his shoulders,
giving them a strong and powerful squeeze. “Molly’s a good woman, smart as
fuck, too. She knows what she is doing, Malice, even if that is getting
involved with Stinger.”

Malice stared in Lucien’s eerie silver eyes The
president’s short dark hair was still wet, and the scent of the same brand of
cologne he had been using for the last ten years filled his nose. He never butted
heads with Lucien, never had a reason to, and he also knew what he said was
true. Moly was all those things, and maybe this was more about him exerting
some kind of dominance bullshit, and also the fear that the Grizzly would
somehow take his kid from him. All of that was serious to Malice, and until he
figured out what in the hell he was going to do about all of this, he wasn’t
going to think too far into the future.

“Just know what you’re getting yourself into, okay?”
With that Lucien let go of him and left him to deal with his thoughts alone.

Chapter Eight

Stinger had dropped Molly off at the cabin so she
could check on the
prostitutes
hours ago. Maybe
Stinger shouldn’t have called them that, even though that was the “profession”
they had chosen, but it was what it was. A couple of prospects had fixed her
car and had taken it over to her, and although she had been planning on leaving
Steel Corner and going back to Brighton today, he had sweet talked her into
staying one more night. Yeah, his female was changing him, and the words “pussy-whipped”
had come up more than once since he had been back at the clubhouse. Stinger
hadn’t even needed to say that he had a woman, and had claimed her has his old
lady, for the other Grizzly members to know that was why he was acting so out of
character.

Since he had been shot by Trick all those months ago
he admitted, only to himself of course, that he had gone into himself. He had
never thought of himself as weak, but nearly dying tended to put life in
perspective to a man. But Stinger, as well as any Grizzly member, was very good
at keeping shit buried deep down, and although he knew his brothers knew he was
probably acting standoffish because of the Trick incident they never busted his
balls about it. They all had their own issues, demons, and challenges they went
through. But they dealt with it, and if they wanted help there was an unspoken
commitment that any and all Grizzlies would be there. They could function with
their own self-loathing, making sure their problems and anger were mostly
buried. Of course there was always that slip, like what happened when Dallas
lost his son and ex, and when any of the club members had found their old
ladies. There were just emotions that not even an outlaw could hide.