Page 3 of Tattered on My Sleeve (Lost Kings MC 4)

  I did.

  Mine.

  “You’re incredible,” she whispered while she reached for me. My fingers curled over hers, and I kissed the back of her hand.

  “So are you.”

  Holy shit.

  I didn’t lie when I told Wrath I couldn’t come like that. Or I thought I couldn’t. No one had ever put so much effort into pleasing me. Oh, wow, had I been missing out.

  He hovered over me. He was so fucking big. Sculpted, massive muscles everywhere. Beautiful. But I wagered he wouldn’t appreciate me calling him beautiful.

  “Spread for me, baby,” he rasped.

  Yes, please.

  His thick erection prodded against my still-tingling folds. Sensation rushed through me as he pushed in, spreading me so wide. I arched and wrapped my legs around him. In one thrust, he slid in. It was almost too much. He was too much, in so many ways.

  He shuddered and strained against me. “You feel so good, babe.”

  He pulled back slow and thrust back in deep.

  “Oh my God, that’s amazing,” I said, gasping for the breath he kept stealing. “Right there.”

  I arched my hips and he slid over that spot again.

  “Yes. Right there.”

  Again. “Yeah, you like that?” he asked.

  Was he kidding? I loved him inside me. Never wanted it to end. “Yes.”

  He grinned a wickedly, devilish smile, then slid over that spot again and again. “You gonna come for me one more time, Angel Face?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yeah, you are.” He grunted as he pressed inside again, and I reached up to pull him to me, crushing my mouth to his. I tilted my hips again, and he kept hammering away.

  Fuck, sex had never felt so good before. Hard. Intense. Pleasurable.

  “Trin, give me one more,” Wrath’s strained voice demanded against my ear.

  My body shot from pleasurable simmer to overflowing boil. My orgasm hit hard, crashing through me. He kept stroking, working me until I was limp.

  “Oh fuck,” he groaned. He tensed and thrust deep, holding while he climaxed with a husky roar.

  He looked down at me with soft, warm eyes and a big smile. He touched his lips to my forehead, my cheek, and finally my lips.

  Then he rolled to the side and right off the bed. “Ow! Fuck!”

  I slapped my hand over my mouth to smother any giggles. Leaning over, I found him sitting on the floor, wearing nothing but a condom and a scowl.

  “Who the fuck still has a twin bed at your age?” he grumbled while picking himself up off the floor.

  “I don’t want to encourage my hook-ups to stay.” Fuck. I didn’t mean that.

  He snatched up his clothes. “Message received, babe.”

  His heavy footsteps thudded over the thin floor, shaking the walls as he headed to the bathroom.

  Tears slid down my cheeks. Why, why, why did I say something so stupid after he’d been so fucking sweet to me?

  The building’s old pipes rattled and whined as he started up the shower, making me cry harder. Shit.

  My bathroom door had no lock, so I eased it open and peeked in the shower.

  “Wrath?”

  He jumped a little. “Shit.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Tears still rolled down my cheeks and this pitiful sniffling sound gurgled out of me.

  I glanced up and found him studying my face. “Why you crying? Was the sex that bad?”

  His words forced a harsh sob from me. “No. I feel awful. I don’t know why I said that to you. I didn’t mean it.”

  Some of his anger melted away, and he tugged me in the shower with him. He wrapped me up in his big, powerful arms, and I slid my hands around his middle. Tepid water beat down his back, but he was so big he blocked the spray, keeping me dry for the most part.

  “Don’t go.”

  He squeezed me tighter, resting his chin on top of my head. “You’re a strange girl, Trinity.” His voice rumbled through me.

  I nodded, my cheek sliding along his damp skin. “I know.”

  He spun us, which, with his massive shoulders and my tiny shower stall, wasn’t easy. But he did it. Very gently and thoroughly, he cleaned every inch of my body. I was humming with need by the time he finished.

  One arm wrapped around me and the other shut off the shower. He leaned down and traced the outside of my ear with his tongue, stopping to nibble on my earlobe. I sighed and relaxed against him.

  “Babe, do you have any condoms? I only had the one.”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Good.”

  I was thrilled she had condoms, because I really needed to fuck her again. But after that hook-up comment, the idea she was prepared like some naughty Girl Scout pissed me the fuck off.

  After she led me back into her bedroom, she opened her nightstand drawer and handed me an unopened box. Just like that, I was a little less annoyed.

  I set the box down and pulled her to me. Grinding my cock against her. Even though I was still grumpy about her comment, seeing her crying about it twisted my cold heart. My plan had been to storm the fuck out after I washed her off me.

  Instead of leaving, I considered that other challenge she laid down out in her living room.

  I gathered her hair in my fist and used it to tilt her head back so I could take her sweet mouth. With my other hand, I worked her nipples, then slid lower to her juicy, tight pussy. She jerked away at first, then leaned into my hand, letting me pump two fingers inside her.

  I bumped her with my cock again and used her hair to tug her down.

  She wrapped her hands around my forearms, stopping me. “I told you. I don’t get on my knees.”

  I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Yes, you will. Only for me, though, Angel Face. You’ll hate how much you love it.”

  She glared up at me with bold eyes. Her fearlessness was the biggest turn-on. My fingers worked in and out of her pussy faster, then moved up, spreading her moisture around her clit, circling, and rubbing until she came on my hand, gasping in my ear. Her knees buckled and she grabbed my cock on the way down. Kneeling upright, so sweet and pretty, she opened her mouth.

  At first, she tasted me with little strokes, swirling her tongue around, licking. I tightened my fist in her hair.

  “Stop being a fucking tease and take me deep like I know you can.”

  Honey eyes flashed up at me. Stretching her lips to accommodate my thick size, she took as much of me as she could, then sucked her way back up. After repeating the movement three times, her eyes closed and she let out a moan.

  “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at me. I want to see your angel eyes while you’re sucking my cock.”

  She met my gaze, smiled around my cock, and I almost lost it. I yanked her up, whirled her around, and bent her over the ridiculous twin bed.

  I should have opened the fucking box when she handed it over. The way she wiggled her ass and arched her back distracted me. I finally got the box open and strips of condoms went flying everywhere. I tried to ignore that she kept a big box of condoms stashed away as I rolled one on.

  “Brace yourself,” I warned. She didn’t giggle though. She waited, patient yet eager.

  Positioning myself, I slammed up inside her hard and fast. She let out a startled scream, then started pushing back against me. “That’s it. Ride my cock.”

  I stood still and let her work herself up and down my dick. What a gorgeous sight. But I needed to see her eyes.

  She let out the sexiest, neediest whimper as I pulled out. I stretched out on her bed and pulled her to me. “Climb on.”

  Her sexy red lips curled into a smile as she did exactly that. Positioning herself over me, she eased down my dick nice and slow. She flinched and raised herself.

  “You okay?”

  “Your dick’s really fucking big,” she gasped.

  A laugh burst out of me. “Thanks, Angel Face. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all night

.”

  I ended up staying over. In the absurd twin bed. With her wrapped in my arms, she made a perfect little armful. Still too worked up to sleep, my gaze wandered around the cramped room, absently wondering if I could at least fit in a double bed.

  What the fuck?

  One night and I’m planning to redecorate her apartment?

  Against me, she struggled and moaned. But not in a sex dream sort of way. A nightmarish way. I gripped her tighter. “Trinity. You’re okay. I got you.”

  Warm wetness slid over my chest. She was fuckin’ crying in her sleep. I barely knew her, but it killed me. I ran my hands over her harder. I didn’t want to scare her awake, but I hated the misery in her voice. Nothing she said made sense. In the back of my head, I wondered if somehow I pushed her too far and caused her nightmare. Fuck, it’s not like I knew a damn thing about the chick.

  After thrashing around for a bit, she finally settled down. I watched over her until I eventually fell asleep too.

  My phone went off way too fucking early.

  Where R U? Meeting hippies @ prop today - Rock.

  Fuck, I’d forgotten all about that.

  B there in 45.

  Trin was curled up in a tiny ball almost all the way against the wall. I unfolded myself from the cramped bed, slow so I wouldn’t disturb her. I stood there staring at her for a few seconds. A completely new feeling washed over me. Not wanting to leave after a hook-up. Usually, I was out the door as soon as the rubber hit the wastebasket. Or I pointedly offered the chick a ride home.

  Trinity.

  Without a doubt, one of the most beautiful girls I’d taken a tumble with. But it wasn’t her pretty face or sick curves. Underneath her protective, bitchy shell, something sweet and vulnerable lurked. I actually liked her.

  My clothes were still scattered in the bathroom. I gathered up everything and got dressed. A quick search located her cell phone. I got her number and programmed mine into her phone. After peeking in the bedroom, I saw she hadn’t moved. It burned my ass she might think I took off, so I sent her a brief explanation before leaving.

  “Are you sure there’s anything up here?” Z asked for the third time.

  “Yes, asshole, I’m sure. Ask me again, I’ll kick your ass,” Rock growled.

  That type of exchange wasn’t unusual. Normally, I’d join in, but I was pissed I wasn’t snuggling with Trinity.

  “Can you both shut the fuck up and read me the next direction?” I snapped.

  Rock pointed to a small dirt road coming up on our right. “There.”

  It was a sharp right and the road barely looked big enough for our vehicle. There were grassy fields on either side. “Are you sure? This looks more like an ATV trail than a road.”

  Rock consulted the printout in his hands. “It’s a road.”

  Not much farther and we passed a wrought iron fence. Most of it was obscured by overgrown grass, but it still stuck out.

  “That’s it.”

  The gate was wide open, so I drove right in. “What the fuck?” popped out of my mouth when I spied the giant Buddha statue in front of us.

  Rock snorted. “Big, fat good luck charm I guess.”

  “Didn’t do these hippies any good. Fucking IRS is about to take all this shit from them,” Z added.

  Sparky sat in the back, silently observing everything. I hoped he gave this place his seal of approval. He’d be the one to decide if this was the new MC or not. Personally, I couldn’t wait to get the fuck away from Empire, specifically Crystal Ball. Too many of the dancers thought our MC was their second fucking home. Made shit awkward.

  “Drive right up to the conference center,” Rock directed.

  I hung a right and we climbed the hilly, overgrown driveway.

  “Gonna need to get some serious landscaping equipment up here,” Z muttered. He definitely knew what we needed and how to get our hands on it.

  The guy waiting outside the conference center was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Guess I expected him to be wearing a long robe or some shit. None of us were wearing colors. Rock was in a motherfucking suit, which made all of us piss our pants before we left the MC.

  Before we stepped out, Rock tugged on his sleeves one last time. “God, I feel like an asshole,” he muttered.

  “You look like one too,” Z responded, completely serious.

  “Fuck you.”

  John Polly waited patiently for us at the front entrance. Not that I expected trouble, but I was pissed with myself because I couldn’t stop checking my phone. Trinity never texted me back.

  Focus. Club business now. Trinity later.

  “Good morning, gentlemen.” Now that was fucking funny. There wasn’t one gentle man in our group. “I pray you had no difficulty finding us?” Polly asked with a small bow. I was eager to move on, not stand around making small talk, so I kept my mouth shut.

  He shook Rock’s hand but ignored the rest of us. Fine by me.

  “I’ll give you a quick tour. Then you can wander around. We’re very motivated. Most of our members have already relocated, so the place is ready for you to take over now.” By “relocated” I think the guy meant “fled the country.”

  Rock nodded but kept his bored expression in place.

  Our lack of enthusiasm seemed to alarm Polly. I guess he expected us to be more eager. We were but would never show it.

  The conference center was massive. Huge entertaining area. Polly called it the reception area. There was a front desk that would make a fantastic bar. A fireplace. Two conference rooms on the right. One would be perfect for our war room where we’d have weekly church. The other we’d use as office space. On the first floor, there were dorm-style bathrooms, a fucking yoga studio, a bedroom suite, laundry room, gym, kitchen, and large dining area. It was enormous, and would allow the club lots of room to conduct both business and our degenerate parties.

  Upstairs contained enough bedrooms for each member and then some. At least half had their own bathrooms attached. A huge suite was at one end of the hall. More dorm-style bathrooms and another smaller laundry room. Beautiful hardwood floors throughout the place and lots of open woodwork. It was almost too nice for a pack of biker thugs.

  As nice as the place was, our real interest lay in what was downstairs. We asked to see the basement.

  Polly shrugged. “It’s unfinished. We’ve only used it for storage.”

  “I’d still like to inspect it,” Rock answered using a hint of biker impatience.

  Polly sighed as he opened the basement door. The dude must have had a fear of basements, because instead of leading us downstairs, he went outside. We filed down the stairs. Everything was sturdy, clean, and well lit. No creepy-horror-movie-type basement. Nope.

  Sparky finally perked the fuck up.

  “Fuck, boss! This is it. This is perfect!” He ran through the open space like a little fucking kid.

  Whoever built the place must have planned to use it for something. The ceilings were at least ten feet high, which considering my size, I appreciated. At least I wouldn’t give myself a concussion if I had to spend a lot of time down here. The basement contained drainage and thick beams. But the walls were unfinished. That suited us fine since we had a serious construction project planned for the space.

  Sparky whipped out a measuring tape, little notebook, and started jotting down notes.

  “How much are we talking, Sparky?” Rock asked.

  “A lot. Almost everything we got. But I swear we’ll make it back within two years.”

  Two years. Long damn time to be out so much cash. Especially since the way we earned had been severely limited.

  Rock glanced at Z and me with a raised eyebrow.

  “Only active members get a vote on it,” Z said.

  True. No way would the retired guys have voted yea for this. But it wasn’t them risking their fucking necks anymore. Sparky and Rock had a solid idea.

  “How strong is CB?” I asked Rock.

  He nodded and thought it over

before answering. “Club Salvatore is the last competition we got, and they won’t be around much longer. Earnings are better and better. Getting quality talent in there since we’ve cleaned shit up.”

  “Can we live off it for the next two years?” Z asked.

  Rock shrugged. “I’ll talk to the accountant. We gotta figure out the treasurer position soon. But yeah, I think so.”

  “That one prospect studied accounting,” Z said.

  We both stared at him. “What?”

  “Marcel. Not sure if he ever finished or not. He’s good with numbers though.”

  Rock glanced at me. “Why didn’t we know this?”

  What he meant was why didn’t I know this, because it was my job to know shit like that. I was supposed to vet any prospects after Z gave them his seal of approval. I tried to think over all the stuff I’d learned about Marcel Whelan over the last couple years. Knew a fuck lot about bikes. Had a little sister he was super protective of. His best friend, Blake Irish-name-I-can’t-bother-to-remember, was also a prospect. Marcel was close to being patched in. Two years younger than his buddy, Blake would have to wait a bit longer before being patched in. For young guys, they were both loyal, hard workers. Came from questionable families just like the rest of us.

  “You can’t patch a brother in and immediately make him an officer,” I pointed out.

  “We can do whatever the fuck we want,” Rock answered.

  True enough. It was time to update our by-laws.

  Sparky moved farther into the basement. The space was so big we could barely see him. He was busy muttering and measuring, not paying any attention to us.

  “Sparky! Let’s go. We still got shit to see,” Rock called out.

  Sparky jogged back to where we were waiting. “Boss, this is it. This is the place. I’m telling you,” he said between harsh, panting breaths. Brother smoked way too much weed. He had the lung capacity of a two-year-old.

  “Okay, calm down. I hear you. Let’s go see the outside.”

  John patiently waited outside on a low stone bench against the building.

  He stood as we stepped outside and walked us to the garage. Each of us probably got a boner over the size of it. Lots of space inside for working on our bikes during the winter months. There was also a big diesel plow truck John said the cult—I mean spiritual group—would throw in with the sale of the property. The garage even had its own dedicated generator. The center had two.