Page 2 of Tattered on My Sleeve (Lost Kings MC 4)

  “Well, that’s good to hear. I’m not looking for an ol’ lady.”

  “I’m not looking for a hookup either. If you don’t mind, my shift is over.”

  Actually, I wouldn’t mind a hook-up with all three of them. Maybe not the president; there was something about him that triggered a warm, brotherly memory. Which was weird because I was an only child. But the other two, yeah, I would definitely be down to—

  “Trinity!” Storm yelped from behind the bar.

  “Christ.”

  I forgot about the Wrecking Ball and stomped over to the bar.

  “What?”

  “I cut my hand, really bad.”

  As I rounded the corner, her bloody hand came into view, and I swallowed back a tidal wave of barf.

  “Ew, fuck!” I whipped around and headed for the back office. “I’ll go get Marky. He should probably run you to the ER.”

  Marky took Storm to the hospital, and I got stuck behind the bar for the rest of the night. Wrath and his friends met with an even scarier group of thugs. But they didn’t cause any trouble and they ignored me, so I didn’t care.

  “Trinity?”

  I looked up to find the president staring at me.

  “Have you heard from Storm? She okay?”

  I shook my head. It was unlikely I’d hear from Storm or Marky. “Nothing yet.”

  He nodded once and tipped his head to the side. “You hang with any local MCs?”

  He was asking if I was club ass for one of his rivals. Surprisingly, I wasn’t offended. “No.”

  “Oh, you just seemed familiar—”

  “My dad was in the Silver Saints when I was a kid.”

  Sympathy shone in his gray eyes. Clearly, he knew their rep. Fuck, why did I even tell him that? I usually kept that shit to myself.

  “He still in?”

  “He’s dead.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me as if he wanted me to continue, and for some strange reason, I did.

  “He died in prison when I was ten.”

  “Club take care of you and your mother?”

  A shiver of revulsion rippled over me, and I closed my eyes for a second. Yeah, they’d taken care of us all right.

  “Not really.”

  He nodded as if he wasn’t surprised.

  His VP called to him. He quickly scribbled on one of the napkins. “Here’s the address and number for our clubhouse. We’re working on moving into a bigger place, but this is it for now. Stop by tomorrow night if you want. At the door, tell them Rock invited you.”

  “How many patched-in brothers you got, Rock?”

  “Ten right now.”

  “Small.”

  “Yeah. Like you said—had a shakeup in leadership. Later, Trinity.”

  I watched him walk away. Like fuck was I going to any club party. I didn’t care how “hot” or “nice” they were—according to Storm.

  I looked at the address. Right next door to a strip club. Big surprise there.

  “You closing soon?” The Wrecking Ball was back.

  “Yeah, thank fuck. My feet are killing me.”

  He threw back his head and laughed, a deep, sexy, rumbling chuckle. Curling his hands over the side of the bar, he swung his upper body over to check out my shoes. “At least you’re wearing sneakers and not fuck-me pumps like Storm. Can I buy you a drink, Trinity?” he asked in a much more serious tone.

  “I don’t drink on the job.”

  He gave me a curt nod, and I took the trash into the back room. Marky could deal with it later. I wasn’t stepping foot in that alley by myself.

  I’d waited an hour for Trinity to disappear long enough for me to hustle her straggling customers out the door. The three of us agreed we’d stay until closing since Trinity was all by herself. But the poor girl looked ready to drop, so the bar was closing early.

  “Oh, did everyone leave?” Her soft voice pulled me away from my staring contest with a bottle of Jack Daniels. I pushed it away.

  “Yup.”

  “Even your guys?”

  That bugged me for some reason. I’d seen her chatting with Rock earlier. “Yeah, why?”

  She shrugged as if she’d only asked to be polite and didn’t really care one way or another.

  “Anything else you need to do?”

  “No, fuck it, I already worked way over my shift.”

  I chuckled at that. She punched her time card and stood there watching me.

  “Do you leave by the back door or something?”

  She laughed. “No, nothing but a dark, dirty, scary alleyway.”

  “Can I give you a lift home?”

  Her gaze drifted to mine and a mischievous little gleam shone in her eyes. “Do you have your bike?”

  “Of course.” What a ridiculous question.

  “Sure, you can give me a ride.”

  On the surface, her words were innocent, but she made them sound dirty. Or maybe it was my dick’s wishful thinking.

  My baby was parked right outside. Trinity studied it for a minute before looking up at me. “Do you have an extra helmet?”

  “Actually, I do.” I liked to be prepared when picking up chicks.

  I dug it out and handed it over. She fiddled with it for a minute, then strapped it on like a pro.

  The night was chilly, and I wished I had something to offer that would cover her better than the skinny little straps of her tank tops. “You’re going to be cold. I’m sorry. I don’t have a sweatshirt or something with me.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  She got on behind me like she’d done it a million times.

  “Have you been on a bike before?”

  A soft chuckle and her warm breath swept over the side of my neck. “Yeah, I’ve ridden.”

  I started her up, twisted the throttle a few times, and took off. After a few blocks, Trinity’s hands moved from my hips to my front as she wrapped her arms around me. The distinctive movement of her hand inching toward my cock distracted me for a moment. What the hell was she up to?

  When I finally stopped at a red light, I turned my head to shout, “Where are we going?”

  “751 Mason Street.”

  Mason Street. Why did that sound familiar? “That’s three doors down from the bar!”

  “I know. I wanted a ride.”

  I shook my head and took the long way back to Mason Street. Maybe she wasn’t as indifferent to my charms as she seemed.

  Surprisingly, the spot I vacated was still open, so I slid in there. She handed me the helmet and ran her hands through her hair a few times. I don’t think she did it on purpose, but she looked damn sexy. I still straddled my bike because she hadn’t invited me in yet.

  “Aren’t you going to walk me home?”

  Hell. Yeah.

  I scanned the quiet street, searching for 751. It really was almost right next to the bar.

  It was also a shithole.

  “That’s convenient,” I said, nodding at the Blue Fox.

  “Happy accident.”

  She had her keys in her hand, and we stood there staring at each other. She seemed to be trying to come to a decision. I’m a patient guy. I could wait.

  “Do you want to come in? I can make you a biker’s poison.”

  I tried really hard not to get all cocky about the invite. “What’s that?” I asked, reaching out to tuck a few strands of wild hair behind her ear. Her eyelids fluttered at my touch. I was getting to her. The urge to do some sort of touchdown dance hit me.

  “It’s Jack and rum. Shake it and shoot it.”

  My lip curled in disgust. “Gross. Why ruin Jack like that?”

  “I knew it. Knew you were a whiskey snob.”

  She was actually teasing me and joking around. I wanted to kiss her.

  “Come on. I’ll find something else for you.”

  If the outside of the building looked bad, inside was a fucking nightmare. This coming from a guy who hung out in a clubhouse with nine other male pigs. Rickety stairs led up

to an even more questionable landing.

  She opened the first door.

  Inside wasn’t so bad. It was tiny but clean. What little she had was organized and pretty.

  “Do you want a beer?”

  “Sure.”

  My big shit-kicking boots felt strange in her tiny little apartment. But toeing them off might give her the wrong impression. I threw myself onto her couch and sank down so fast, I wondered if I’d ever get out of it.

  She returned and handed me a bottle of beer.

  “Thanks. I think you’re done serving for the night now.”

  A small smile played over her lips. After a beat or two, she tucked herself onto the couch. Not really next to me, but not so far away I couldn’t reach out and run my finger down her arm.

  “So, Wrath, what do you do besides the sergeant-at-arms stuff?” She flicked her hand in the air like the topic bored her.

  Huh. She was the first chick who hadn’t wanted to sit and discuss the MC for hours on end.

  “I fight.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “So predictable.”

  “No really. Mixed martial arts style.”

  “Are you any good?”

  “I’m undefeated.”

  “Doesn’t the MC take a lot of time away from your training?”

  I considered her question carefully before answering. Yes. Actually, the last two years had been nothing but battle after battle within our club. I’d had little time to focus on training or fighting. I hadn’t needed anywhere else to redirect my rage either.

  “Yeah, sometimes.”

  “If you’re undefeated, shouldn’t I have heard about you?”

  “MMA isn’t legal in New York. These are underground fights.”

  “So what else do you do?”

  Fuck chicks, ride my bike, knock people out.

  “Saving to get my own gym.”

  Suddenly, she was right next to me. Her hand brushed over my cheek.

  “What do you like to do, Trinity?”

  “Read.”

  “That’s not very exciting.”

  “Trust me, I’ve had enough excitement in my life.” Her voice came out more pained than teasing. It held that vulnerability I glimpsed at the bar.

  I turned to face her, cupped her cheek, and ran my thumb over her soft skin. She pushed forward and tentatively pressed her lips to mine. I reached behind me to set the beer on the end table, then placed my hand on the other side of her face.

  She yelped and bolted backward. “Cold hand!”

  “Sorry.”

  Unruffled, she swooped in and kissed me again. Her hand dropped to my lap and she gave my cock a quick squeeze. Fuck. She had me so hard I didn’t think I’d be able to get out of my jeans with a hacksaw. She rubbed harder, pressing her palm into me.

  “Trin—”

  I slid down a little to relieve the pressure, and she took it as an invitation to work my pants open, running her hands up and down my cock. Still no words from her, though. Just kept looking at me with those fuck-me eyes. Suddenly, she dropped down on her belly, stretching her legs out behind her on the couch, and closed her mouth around my cock.

  I hissed out a breath. Fuck, that felt good.

  She angled and arranged herself over my lap, licking, sucking, exploring. Christ, it was amazing.

  “Babe, wouldn’t that be easier on your knees?” I pointed to the floor.

  She released my cock with a soft pop and tilted her head toward me, her lips shiny and red.

  “I don’t get on my knees for anyone. Ever.”

  Shit. Why can't I ever keep my big mouth shut?

  “Okay.” I reached out and stroked her hair. My cock really wanted back in her mouth.

  Her hand kept lazily working up and down my shaft. Finally, she bent over and took me in her mouth again.

  Sweet motherfucking heaven. I couldn’t help thrusting up, and she didn’t seem to mind. She made happy little humming noises that vibrated up and down my dick.

  “Trinity, honey. I’m close. Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Stop now if you don’t want me shooting in your mouth, babe.”

  Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop.

  She paused, and for an awful second, I thought she was going to stop. I froze, waiting, but then she took me deeper, trailing her tongue along the underside of my cock where she apparently realized I was extra sensitive.

  My fist curled in her hair. I really wanted to see her fucking eyes but couldn’t from this position. Then she took me all the way to the back of her throat. All thought left. White lightning gathered in my sac, streaking up until I came with painful intensity. Trinity didn’t stop. She sucked and swallowed while keeping her plush lips wrapped around my cock.

  “Ah, fuck! Trin. Shit.”

  She kept licking and kissing. Finally, she stopped and looked up with a soft smile.

  I cupped my hand behind her neck and pulled her to me. “Thank you.”

  I tried kissing her, but she wriggled away. “Guys don’t like to after doing that.”

  Huh?

  She sat up and reached over to take a sip of my beer. Christ, my spent cock jumped when she put the bottle to her lips. She set the bottle down and crawled into my lap. With one hand at the back of her head and one above her ass, I pressed her against me and took her mouth hard. Forcing my tongue in her mouth, I explored every inch. I wasn’t nearly done with this little angel. No fucking way. I slid my hands down to cup her ass. Just as I’d suspected, my palms curved perfectly around each cheek. Holding her tight, I powered off the couch. She held on and let out a little squeal.

  “Bedroom?”

  She giggled and jerked her head in the only possible direction the bedroom could be. Yeah, she’d sucked my brain out through my cock.

  I shuffled us in there, even with my pants falling down.

  The fuck?

  A pink, frilly twin bed and some cheap furniture were all she had in here. I set her down gently, and she scooted up onto the mattress.

  I took a moment to zip up, but left everything else undone because I planned to fuck her as soon as possible.

  “Get those pants off, babe.”

  She stood and tried to push past me. I held her with one arm. Tilting her head up, I searched her eyes. “That wasn’t enough, Angel Eyes.”

  Her lashes fluttered and she stood on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss on my lips. Hooking my fingers in the straps of her tank tops, I slid them down her shoulders. Fucking mercy, she had a fantastic pair of tits jammed into a push-up bra. I took a second to admire the black lace cradling her soft, white skin, then reached around to unhook it and slide it off her shoulders.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous.” Her body trembled, and I frowned. Most girls eat that shit up, but for some reason, compliments seemed to freak Trinity out. It made me want to work harder to show her how pretty she was.

  I kissed her cheek and her neck, down to her breasts, stopping to suck and tease her soft pink nipples into hard little peaks. My hands started working her jeans off. Kneeling down in front of her, I peeled them down her legs. I finally stripped them off and just stared. Knockout figure, with full breasts and curvy hips. Beautiful curves in all my favorite places. Those soft, rounded hips would be perfect to hold on to while pounding into her from behind. I gripped them and she went still. The skin on her right hip felt textured and rough. I turned her slightly and found red, scarred skin from the top of her thigh to just over her hip.

  I flicked my gaze up. “What happened, babe?”

  She relaxed a notch before answering. “Fire when I was a kid.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  Her pretty eyes closed again. “No. Just feels weird I guess.”

  I pressed my lips against her scarred skin, then kissed my way to her belly button.

  “Lie back.”

  She did, and I positioned myself right between her thighs. Hooking my fingers in her panties, I slowly pulled them down, kissing each bit of skin they passed.

; “Open for me.”

  She planted her elbows on the bed and levered up to look down at me. “Wrath, I can’t. Um. I’ve never… I can’t come that way.”

  Challenge accepted.

  “Okay, baby. Just let me taste you until I’m ready to fuck you. I haven’t recovered from the couch yet.”

  Lie. Big, fat, motherfucking lie.

  I was so hard it hurt.

  I slipped my fingers between her legs and rubbed her softly, tracing her slick, bare skin.

  “Do you have any idea how pretty you are—everywhere?”

  She hummed and twisted on the bed. I leaned forward and nuzzled her mound. Her hips jerked, so I grabbed them to hold her still, letting my thumbs slide into the juncture of her thighs.

  “Open for me. Put your feet on my shoulders.”

  It took a few seconds, but she did it.

  Spreading her lips, I leaned in and swept my tongue over her.

  She let out a sharp little screech.

  I glanced up. “You like that?”

  “Yes.”

  I gave her another long, wet lick, and she gasped. I dipped one finger inside her, in and out, until her hips were rocking with me. Taking another lick, I made my way to her clit, licking slow, sucking, more soft kisses.

  Her moans were constant, beautiful, raw sounds. Her hips bumped up. Capturing her little nub between my lips, I sucked gently, still sliding my fingers in and out. Her legs shook and quivered.

  Almost there.

  She screamed and tightened, grinding herself on my face and fingers. I fuckin’ loved every delicious second. She was able to let go for me. Because of what I did to her. She raked her nails through my hair, holding me where she needed me.

  “Please, please, please, don’t stop,” she begged.

  I growled and shook my head. No fucking way. Couldn’t stop if I wanted to.

  When her screaming died down to little whimpers, I shrugged out of my cut, tossing it on her nightstand. Yanked my shirt over my head and threw it on the floor. Worked my pants off. I needed to bury myself in her that second. I dug through my pocket for a condom and rolled it on.

  “You with me, Trinity?”

  “Yes.” She held out her arms to me. Seeing we weren’t going to fit on the bed the way she was positioned, I picked her up and tossed her headfirst to the pillows before climbing over her.

  Running my gaze over her flushed face gave me a head rush. I fucking did that. She said no one else had ever gotten her off that way.