Thrash (2 page)

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Authors: JC Emery

Tags: #sexy, #violent, #outlaw, #biker, #motorcycle club

BOOK: Thrash
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As the door clicks shut behind me, I
decide that all of this overthinking is bullshit. I knew what I was
doing when I showed up tonight. After the bullshit with Jeremy at
school today, I needed the release, so I showed up at the
clubhouse. This was the whole point of coming, wasn’t it? To fuck
and forget—to let the entire world dissolve into a vacuum of
feeling devoid of worry?

Fuck it.

I spin around to face Duke, giving him
a smile that’s a total goddamn lie. After all this time, the idea
of being with Duke puts my nerves on edge. I’ve thought about this
moment for so long that I almost can’t believe it’s really
happening. He lifts his chin just slightly, making his goatee look
longer than it is. Before I can stop myself, I lunge at him.
Leaping into the air, my hands latch onto his shoulders and as
smoothly as I can, I wrap my legs around his waist. Immediately, he
grabs at my ass, keeping me in the air. Now firm in his arms, I
move my hands to the sides of his neck and pull his face to mine. I
press my lips to his, and don’t have to wait for him to catch up.
If there’s one thing I’ve heard about Duke, it’s that he knows how
to fuck.

A jolt of what I can only describe as
pure electricity runs through me at the touch of his lips on mine.
He presses down, relentless in his pursuit. His lips are rougher
than I expect, but not entirely unwelcome. I open my mouth,
inviting him in. Just like I knew he’d be, Duke takes every
invitation I extend. Pushing my pelvis into his, a low growl erupts
from deep in his throat as his hands clamp down on my pliant flesh.
A moan escapes me at the contact.

A frenzied mess of limbs, we tumble
onto the nearby queen-sized bed, bouncing into the air and
completely disregarding of the noise we make. For even a brief few
hours it’s nice to be so free and so out of control. All the
jostling makes it difficult to breathe for a minute. The mattress
protests in squeaks beneath us as Duke covers my body with his,
trailing a hand down my side. He’s going so slow, and I’m just not
used to it. I can’t tell if I like it or not, but I know better
than to step out of my place.

I bring one of my arms up and beneath
my head, and prop my head up on it so I can see exactly what he’s
doing. His tattooed hand grips the top of my jeans before deftly
flicking the button loose and pulling them down with one strong,
commanding tug. I’ve spent years watching his moves, but it’s an
entirely different thing when the focus is on me. No stranger to
the palace and all the debauchery that goes on in that place, I’ve
seen Duke take women out in the open. He’s never been shy, that’s
for sure.


What’s wrong?” he asks.
Realizing I’ve been staring off into space, I shake my head and
look down at him. My pants are around my ankles, his hand still
around the bunched material as if he stopped in mid-pull. His blond
hair, shorter than he normally keeps it, falls into his piercing
eyes as he stares me down.


Nothing,” I say and buck
my hips up to him in encouragement. For a moment I think he might
argue, but he doesn’t. Pulling off my jeans the rest of the way,
and tossing them across the room, he lets out a heavy sigh. His
mood’s changing for reasons I can’t even fathom. If I thought he
was moving slowly before, I was wrong. Now he moves at a turtle
speed as he kisses his way up my legs, alternating between the two,
but staying toward the middle. Finally, he lands a kiss on the
center of my black thong panties. Having been so attentive the
entire night, now he keeps his eyes lowered as he grips the sides
of my thong and slowly pulls it down.

Without lifting his head, he crawls up
my body, letting his nose drag along my flesh. I didn’t know he
would be this slow with me. He’s not been slow the few times I’ve
seen him in action, not that watching Duke have sex is something
I’m prone to doing. It’s just something that happens around
here.

I try to pull my mind out of that
awkward place it keeps going to—remembering everything he’s done
with other women, and thinking about how it compares to what he’s
doing with me. I’m such a mess, I’m starting to wonder if getting
off is even worth all the trouble this shit is causing me. I mean,
I told myself I wouldn’t fucking do this with him for a reason. I’m
way too attached. And when everything little memory and all of the
worry gets too much to take, I decide to mentally check out and be
goddamn done with all of the “what if” crap that I’m usually so
good at pushing out of my head.

Sitting up, he scoots back to avoid
getting knocked in the face with my elbow. Quickly, I pull my bra
tank over my head and toss it across the room then reposition my
legs beneath me and pull him up to me. Propped up on my legs, I use
his heavy torso as leverage to keep myself steady. Running my hands
up and down his leather cut, I try to ignore that little voice in
the back of my head that reminds me how very much I am like the
woman I hate so much: my mother. She always had a thing for bikers,
and much less a thing for motherhood as evidenced by her departure
all those years ago.


If
you’re not into this, I’ll get someone else,” he says. My head
snaps up, eyes finding his, and I give him my best mean face. He
gives me a serious look and says, “But I
want
you.”


I was trying not to puke
on the leather. You don’t have to be a dick,” I say. A kaleidoscope
of butterflies erupts in my belly at that comment. The hint of a
smile forms and he grips my sides, then in a surprise move, drops
backwards and pulls me on top of him. I was buying time when I told
him I was trying not to puke, but now I’m not lying anymore. The
world spins around me as I hold onto him tight. His body shakes
beneath mine and when I can see steady once again I notice that
he’s on his back and I’m straddling his lap. Totally naked and
bared to him, I remind myself that I’ve done this more times than I
can count. He’s Forsaken, and I’m a Lost Girl. It’s who we are and
this is what we do. I have zero reason to be weird about this.
Except that he’s not just some random guy. He’s charming, and he’s
funny. And he’s Duke.

Taking the front of his cut and gently
pulling it off his shoulders, a disturbingly loud cell phone rings,
startling me. Duke’s eyes narrow as he grumbles something about his
dick and then manages to yank the offensive object out of his
pocket. Flipping open the phone, he brings it to his
ear.


Yeah? Now? Fuck. Yeah,
just gimme five?” he says into the phone, flips it shut, and tosses
it beside us on the bed. Throwing one of his muscles arms down on
the bed he curses and then bucks his hips. I grip the leather of
his vest tightly and go to move off of him but his hands find their
way to my hips, keeping me in place.


We just have to be quick,
baby,” he says. Reaching over, he pulls a condom off the side table
and sets it down beside him. Leaning back, I pop open the button of
his jeans and pull down the zipper. Just as I’m freeing him from
his constraints, one of his hands finds its way to my center. His
thumb parts my folds and rubs me in small circles until my thighs
clench tightly into his hips. The room feels so cool, every slight
gust of wind that moves past me sends chills up my spine.
Gooseflesh covers me from head to toe.


I could watch this shit
for days,” he says in a husky voice. As much as I want to see looks
of wanton desire in his eyes, I don’t risk losing the building
euphoria I have going on. My mind, shoulders, and soul feel a
little lighter the longer he attends to me for. Breaking from the
rhythm he’s created, Duke speeds up his ministrations, applying
more pressure and sending me to the edge. I toss my head back, my
body locks up, and for a brief moment, nothing—not even me—exists.
And I’m floating. When I come back down to earth, I pry my eyes
open to see Duke ripping the wrapper open with his teeth and then
rolling the condom down his shaft.

Not giving myself a chance to change my
mind, not that with the way my body responded to just the pad of
his thumb I’m doubting much, I pull myself up his body and sink
down onto him. Moving at first slow and steady, then fast and
relentlessly, I slide myself up and down his length. Keeping my
eyes trained on his face, I watch as he locks his jaw up and his
breath catches. Bringing his hips up to meet mine, he drives
himself into my core, making me gasp for air. It isn’t long before
we’re a sweaty mess. His thumb starts with the circles again and
the combination of everything he’s doing to my body is too much to
take. I clamp down around him as tight as I can while bringing one
hand behind me and cupping his balls. His movements still as his
eyes fly to the back of his head and his body goes still, and his
muscles turn to stone beneath me.

I give us both a moment to come down
from our highs before I give his chest a soft pat and slide off of
him. His eyes pop open with a cloud of confusion beneath the
surface before he washes it all away and just like always he’s back
to being the bad-ass I know he’s always had to be.

On shaky legs, I stand beside the bed,
watching as he tears the condom off and tosses it in a nearby trash
bin and then zips his jeans up. Blowing out a deep breath, he
stands, and pulls me to him. Cupping my face in his hands, he slams
his lips against mine. This time I expect the power behind his
touch and his rough lips. Duke has always been like a gravitational
pull that I can’t escape, but knowing how his lips feel on mine is
going to be a difficult thing to ignore.


I gotta go, but when I
get back…” he trails off and then shoves his hand down between us
and slides one of his fingers between my wet folds. “This is mine.
We clear?”


Excuse me?” I say,
stumbling over the words. A gasp escapes me as he uses his thumb to
rub my swollen nub and then hooks his finger inside of me. My hands
fly up to his chest to keep myself steady and my eyes fall back in
my head. The only thing I can do is focus on the incredible feeling
that he’s creating with his hand, and not on the words he’s
said.


You let me have it, and
now THIS. IS. MINE,” he says, and presses hard on my clit, sending
a slight tremor through my body. I moan and let my head fall onto
his chest. He wraps his other arm around my waist to keep me up. He
unhooks his finger inside of me and slides three more in. The shock
of being filled so suddenly is too much to take and I burst apart
in his arms. My legs quake, my breathing stops, and my entire body
spasms. I’m clutching his cut like it’s the only lifeline I have
and when my head finally clears and he removes his hands from my
slick pussy, I realize that he’s claimed me and try to process
everything that that means.

Nodding my head out of stupidity and
pushing off of his chest, I suck in a much-needed breath and look
around slightly dazed. I’m barely able comprehend what he’s said
before he’s out of the room.

He claimed me and then left me, and
while this is something I’ve fantasized about many a night, while I
was alone in my bed, stroking my own pussy and pretending it was
Duke-- I don’t want this. I only want him if it’s real, and it
never is real with Duke. So I don’t want it.

I’m left looking for my clothes so I
can get out of here. I find my pants and pull them up my legs, then
find my thong and shove it in my jeans pocket. As I’m pulling the
bra tank on, I start to feel myself sobering up and the reality of
what I’ve done sneaks up on me. The only thing worse than denying
myself Duke is having Duke and then losing him.

Now that I’ve been here, I can’t go
back to that place where I bury my feelings for him and pretend
that he’s just another member of the club.

Chapter 1

 


HAVE
YOU HEARD
a single word I’ve
said?”
The words come out of my mouth, but
I still can’t believe I’m saying them. I’m way too young for this
shit.


I heard you. Just fucking
chill, won’t you?” Jeremy says. My brother’s a good kid—or rather,
he’s not that bad of a kid—but he’s got a mouth on him. He wasn’t
always so bad, but the older he gets without his dad around the
more uncontrollable he gets.


Then what did I say?”
Fuck. I sound exactly like my mother, and I hate that bitch. She
should be the one here, dealing with this shit.


Look,” Jeremy says,
standing from his seat at the table. He’s so tall now, just like
his dad, Butch. Over six feet with broad shoulders and muscles that
have come out of seemingly nowhere. Jeremy’s as tan as anyone gets
around here, and despite his size and attitude, he’s still got the
same smile he did when he was little.


I get it. You’re pissed
that you had to leave work. Point fucking taken.” Leaning over the
back of the chair he was just sitting in, he lets his hair fall
into his eyes as his head is tipped down. He looks like a grown man
already, and he’s only seventeen.


No. Point not fucking
taken. That shit job I had to leave puts food in that smart mouth
of yours. Do me a favor and just don’t hit anybody else after your
suspension’s up, okay?”

Tipping his head up slightly, he gives
me a blinding smile. “Sure thing, boss.”


Don’t do that,” I say,
letting my head fall into my hands. I’m worn out and figuring that
it’s just not worth the fight. As much as I want to do right by the
kid, there’s only so much I can do. In less than a year he’ll be
eighteen and my guardianship will be over. The only thing I’ll have
then is the roof over his head and the fact that we’re the only
family each other has. When Butch-- Jeremy’s biological dad, and my
step-dad-- went down for something club-related back when I was in
high school, we ended up living with the club president and his
wife. It didn’t last long though and the president managed to get
social services off our asses and me and Jeremy back into our own
home. Now, looking at my brother, with all his attitude and
arrogance, I can’t remember why I wanted to take this on
myself.

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