Steele: Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3 (23 page)

BOOK: Steele: Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3
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“You’re too big.”

Nice
.

Straightening up, I ran my hands down the center of her spine and my fingers into the middle of her tight hot ass. “Wouldn’t hurt you. I’d get you nice and ready for a long time. For days and weeks, babe.”

Massaging around the pink ring of her hole, so smooth and hot, I spit down. As my saliva hit her button, it pursed in a kiss that opened with a flutter. I almost exploded and sprayed my load all over her back. I circled her with my thumb, watching her clench and release.

“I’d finger you and lick you and spread you, and you’d feel so fucking hot when I slid my cock into your sweet little ass you’d ask me to do it again and again”—I pushed my wet thumb inside her—“and again.”

She swore and thrust back until her ass swallowed my whole thumb.

“You ever looked back here?” I asked, tapping another finger against the star opening for me.

“Brodie!”

“What? You get waxed, right?”

“Brodie. Jesus!” Her foot kicked back, connecting with my thigh.

“Just saying. You’ve got the sexiest little asshole I’ve ever seen. So pink and tiny and pretty. Can’t wait to taste it.” Bending down, I gusted a hot breath over her.

She moaned in response, spreading more.

Then I was on her. Nothing could stop me. I lapped the loosening ring and up and down her ass.

“That’s my thumb in you, my biggest finger.” Pumping it in and out, I watched her hips rise to chase my touch.

“More.”

Yes.

Adding lube to my fingers, I nudged another inside. She croaked out my name, but eased back onto my hand.

“How does that feel?” I asked.


Uh huh
.” She nodded fast, looping her hips to get more purchase.

Thrusting three fingers into her pussy, I filled her both ways. In and out, one hole then the other. When she orgasmed it was with my surging fingers stuffed inside her cunt and her ass. As she rolled on the waves of her climax, I withdrew my fingers, and fucked her ass with my tongue. Hard fast hot stabs met her loud sharp harsh cries.

After she’d come a second time, clutching the blanket, moaning helplessly, I had to get inside her. Cupping her ass, I guided my cock between her legs from cunt to ass and between her cheeks. She dripped on my balls, and it wasn’t the lube. I did it again, pushing slightly into her pussy, pulling out and dragging my engorged cockhead to her other opening.

Circling my hips, I teased her with the thought of my dick in there. In the naughtiest place ever.

Pulling back, I gripped her hips. I sped my strokes through the furrow of her soaking cunt. “God. You’re juicy tonight.”

Ashe humped back at me.

When she was shivering and sweating and gushing around me, I made quick work of the condom before slamming into her from behind, aiming straight for her g-spot as I tilted my hips. One thrust, and she came, squeezing me so tight I lost my breath, my sight, everything but the feel of her clenching, milking, drawing me even further inside.

I stayed with her, pulling her into my arms so her back was against my chest and my cock deep, so deep inside her it pulsed. When she went loose from her orgasm, I pushed her to the floor, fell on top of her, and took her so hard, so fast, so furiously we ended up halfway across the room before I burst inside her. My entire body stretched tight, igniting into flames.

Several hours and a few more rounds later, Ashe weakly laughed. She lay beside me on the blanket on her living room floor.

“What?” I asked.

“Cara has to go on a few more sleepovers.”

“I like the way you think, woman.”

Chapter Fourteen

Retribution

 

 

 

CARA—THE COOLEST KID on the block—did the double sleepover night. Lucky me.

I decided to take Ashe to the MC the next evening for a change of scenery. We’d had sex all over her house. I figured she could use a night to recover. Inside Retribution, the lights were low, the tunes were loud, beer and shots swilled, and the sound of pool balls knocking and people talking was music to my ears.

Better yet, Ashe dressed in a tight leather miniskirt. It was a wonder we made it out of the house. She’d also put in the long line of ear studs and rings up and down both lobes—piercings she couldn’t wear when she was at work. My heart kicked up a pace when my dudes and their women welcomed her like she was any other old lady. Maybe the air had cleared after Dirk’s Dickish Last Stand.

I’d pumped Ashe for info about the Retribution investigation, but she wouldn’t give me anything. She didn’t bring her work home, at least not this particular case. She’d talk about her partner Davies, no problem. The guy kept a bag of frigging Gummy Bears in the glovebox of their Crown Vic at all times but had aced the Assault Weapons course from the Criminal Justice Academy in Columbia. She’d shoot the breeze about her chief, aka the portly guy I continued to call Sipowicz. She had absolutely no problem spilling the beans about the officer manning the metal detector the day I showed up at the station. Ashe confirmed news of my cock piercings did the break room rounds, many, many times. But she wouldn’t break ranks about the investigation of persons of interest inside my own MC.

I idled at the bar as Ashe once again made a clean sweep of the pool table in Retribution. The night shaped up to be relaxation on tap, until Dirk fouled the air with his presence. He rolled inside—guided by the gravitational force of his beer belly—and lumbered his way to Ashe.

Jumping off my stool, I was halfway across the packed room when Boomer pulled me back. “Let her handle it.”

He dragged me to the bar, and I struggled against his arms. “What the hell, man?”

Pushing me onto my vacated stool, he muttered, “Just watch.”

“You can’t be a biker bitch if you’re on the force,” Dirk slurred in Ashe’s face.

“Never said I was a bitch.” Cracking the pool cue in half over her knee, she held the jagged end up to his throat. “But you are.”

He pitched forward like he was going to grab her, and I had to grip the bar to keep from intervening.

Ashe kept her poolstick shank right where it was until Dirk stumbled back.

“I could press charges,” he whined, rubbing his neck where a trickle of blood showed.

“You are a skirt-chasing loser who can’t stand a woman who can
stand up to you
. Will that be on your statement?” Ashe tossed the makeshift weapon aside. “You want to come at me? Come at me.”

I shot up, but again Boomer pressed me down. “She’s got this. She’s proving herself.”

“She shouldn’t fuckin’ have to.”

“You stuck up for her last time. Let her do this herself. You know she’s more than capable.”

Staring with eyes peeled wide, I watched Ashe perform some Bruce Lee moves on Dirk, her arms and legs moving so fast they blurred. I would’ve laughed at the absurdity of the ugly thug of a man getting windmilled by a much smaller woman if Ashe wasn’t so graceful or the situation so dire.

Dirk’s attempts at martial arts combat were comical. He blundered left, right, and back as Ashe attacked, somehow never quite landing a blow. She couldn’t. Her job was on the line. What she did do was make him look like a big drunk buffoon while he batted her away—or tried to.

With a last flurry of insulting words—words I wanted to slam down his throat with my fist—Dirk bumbled outside in total shame.

A roar went up in the club, all in favor of Ashe. She eased through the backslapping throng to me.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What? Why?” I grabbed her against me.

“You know why. I’m bringing strife to the club.”

“Well, Boomer made me sit still so I didn’t move in and murder Dirk the Dick. That’s true. Also, that was really hot.”

“I’ve had Muy Thai training.”

Of course she had. I was bedding a woman with mad martial arts skills, who carried a gun, and rode a big ass motorcycle.

I murmured against her ear, “Please don’t ever do that again. Ever.”

“It will never happen again, I promise.” She leaned back. “And please know I’m probably lying.”

“Ashe,” I groaned.

“It’s in my nature to be badass. You know that. It’s why you like me.”

“More than like you,” I said with a low growl.

“You promise me you’ll never stop caring for me?” She caressed my chest. “You’ll never stop protecting me, even if you know I can do it myself.”

“Done deal.”

“Oh, one more thing.” She slanted her eyes at me. “Move in with me.”

Hell fuckin’ yeah!

I didn’t want to look too easy though by . . . say . . . jumping up and down and sending out a round of drinks and announcing it to the world.

I rubbed my chin with two fingers, squinting at her. “Is this because of the rim job I gave you last night?”

She pulled back in my arms, flustered and blushing.

Excellent
.

Oh, and then screeching at me. I kinda dug that too.

“Brodie! You can’t just . . .
erg
. . . how can you say stuff like that?”

“Because your cheeks get all pretty and pink, just like your hole when—”

“Stop already!”

“But you liked it because you came about three—”

She slapped her hand over my mouth while I continued to grin. “I liked it. You know I did. That is not why I want you to move in,” she hissed through clamped-tight teeth.

My heart started piston-pounding in my chest. The woman who’d only wanted to be fuck buddies in the beginning was suddenly serious. She was inviting me fully into her life.

Her hand slipped away and I kept my face cool as I asked, “Oh yeah? Then tell me why.”

“Insufferable,” she muttered under her breath.

I didn’t mind. I waited for her to continue.

“The orange juice thing,” Ashe mumbled.

“What?”

“You bring me a glass of orange juice after we have sex.”


Ahh
. That explains it then.”

“I’m not done,” she spat. “Because of how you are with your brother and sister, and your whole family here, although you still give Cole too hard a time.”

“Cole who?” I couldn’t resist an extra dig at Probie.

Making her way between my thighs as I sat on my stool, she draped her arms around my neck and kissed my chin. “Because of the fact you drove me home that night I hurt you so badly.”

Beginning to smile, I lifted her face to mine, lost in her beauty. “That it?”

“Because I’m completely in love with you.”

“Just wanted to hear you say it again.” I winked at her.

“Asshole.” She punched me on the shoulder with a gurgle of laughter.

“Speaking of asses . . .”

A couple hours later, Ashe had to leave because of an early morning start. I called a taxi, and we waited near the doors for its arrival. She held my hand in a simple sweet gesture, smiling at me. That small touch, that bright smile, they filled me as big as her invite to move in.

Her taxi arrived just as Handsome screamed in on his Harley. He and I had done all the restoration work on it together. That chrome horse set the pavement on fire beneath my boots.

He leaped off, hung his helmet, and waved.

After I ushered Ashe to her cab, she leaned up and kissed me hard and fast. “’Night, handsome.”

Handsome heard her and called over, “’Night, sweetie.”

With a roll of my eyes, I reached out to cuff him on the head. “Cut the shit.”

The last thing I heard from Ashe was a laugh as she rolled down the window before her taxi left the lot.

Following Handsome inside, I rejoined Boomer at the bar. He nodded at—wait, that wasn’t Probie manning the bottles of booze. I spun on my stool to take in this dude I swore I’d never laid eyes on before. Dark hair waved away from the man’s face, thicker stubble on his jaw and throat. His severe cheeks led to eyes light brown, almost to the point of gold. Using a buck knife, he popped the cap off a beer and slid it to me. Bad motherfuckin’ ass.

I chugged a few swallows of the icy cold brew. A couple cherries tried it on with me as I sat there next to my brother—one or two old flames, and a few old tarts, too. Apparently they hadn’t seen me with Ashe or still thought I was fair game for a fast fuck in one of the backrooms. I wasn’t interested. With the least amount of words necessary, I let them know the score. I was off the market. Forever.

After the broads cleared out, I peered at Boomer. “Who the hell’s that?” I aimed my bottle at the new dude’s broad-shouldered back.

“Oh, him? Hunter. Transfer from the Tampa Bay Outlaws.” Boomer leaned his elbows on the bar. “You remember their charter dissolved?”

“RICO again. Yeah.”

“Good thing we run a tight ship ’round here, right, bro?”

If only he knew . . .

“I don’t like the new ones.” Especially not with the investigation going down that no one seemed to know dick about.


Quelle surprise
.”

“Are you trying out French on me? Because what I think you need is
le petit mort
.”

“Screw you,” he pivoted on his stool to watch a pool game in progress.

“No. I meant that’s what
you
should be doing.”

“Fuck off about me, and don’t worry about the new member. Hunter’s solid. He’s been here six weeks, you’ve just had your head up Ashe’s ass most of that time, you didn’t notice.”

I’d had my mouth, fingers, and tongue on Ashe’s soft, sexy ass to be perfectly correct. The thought made me instantly hard.

Clearing my throat, I casually said, “She just asked me to move in with her.”

“No shit?” His deep voice boomed. He grabbed my hand in his big paw. “Fuckin’ A, brother. That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

“You won’t miss me?”

“Hell no. And take those scrawny squirrel-wannabes with you.”

“They’re cats.”

“Fur stoles is what they are. Or yowling bottom-of-the-pond bait.”

“You really are evil.”

“Yeah.” Boomer smiled. It lit up his whole face, taking handsome to the next level.

“You’ll be okay in the house alone?”

“Who says I’m gonna be alone?”

“Your calloused hand from many a lonely night’s workout.”

He knocked me upside the head then took me in a
loving
brother-to-brother headlock. “It’s cool. Better than cool. Man, you deserve her and don’t you forget that.”

“Thanks, Boom.” If he hadn’t held me in a chokehold, I might’ve shed a few tears. As it was, I shoved him off me.

“So I’ll save some boxes from our orders so you can pack your shit. When are you flying the nest?”

I flipped him both middle fingers.

“I’m happy for you, Brodie. You and Cat both. Mom and Dad would’ve loved this.” Boomer stood up and looked at me as if pride swelled his chest the same way love for Ashe filled mine.

“All right. I get it. That’s enough now. I’m gonna start PMSing in a minute if you don’t stop the love-fest.”

“Want me to pick up tampons on my way home?” he asked.

“Fuck off, jerkwad.”

He ruffled my hair. “I’m outta here. See you at the house later, princess.”

Boomer moved out range before I had a chance to tackle him to the ground.

“Dickweed,” I mumbled.

“So I take it I just missed Boomer?” Tuck pulled a stool back to accommodate his generous belly.

“How’d you guess?” Motioning to the new guy, Hunter, I ordered more drinks.

“Juvenile insults about him usually follow one of your conversations.”

“Okay, Grampa-know-it-all.” I one-arm hugged Tucker.

“I do know something you don’t, son.”

I planted an elbow on the bar. “If this is another Socrates versus Aristotle meets David Lee Roth versus Sammy Hagar debate, I’m outta here too. You do my head in with that old dude, hair band bullshit. You dropped way too much acid in the sixties.”

“It was the seventies.” He tweaked his question mark of a mustache.

“Same diff.”

“Not at all. You see—”


Tuuucker
. . .” I drew out his name in exasperation. I was not up for a round from the master of headfucker games. “Spill the shit already. What do you know?”

I hoped for him to let slip something about the mole in our midst. Or the sellout, drug dealer, arms dealer . . . who knew?

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