Clubwhore (Devil's Renegade MC #1)(49)
“You suck at this,” Dallas murmurs, the disappointment evident on her pretty face. “Nobody wants him to be normal, Delilah. The bad stuff is easier to believe, even if it’s not true.”
“Well,” I start, leaning forward, not wanting to be a buzzkill. All three lean in with me—hungry for information about the infamous Bryce. Even Maddie who’d been silent the entire time. “There was this one room that had these chains in the ceiling. He claimed it was for punching bags, but who needs two punching bags?” Their eyes widen at my story.
“I knew it,” Maddie whispers, shaking her head. “I told y’all that motherfucker kills people.” She makes sure only we can hear her, but I look around anyway to see if anyone is listening. They’re not.
“Maddie, I’ve killed a guy. Doesn’t mean shit.” I’d heard of Dallas killing a man, but to hear it from her own lips puts a whole new perspective on the information.
“No,” Maddie argues, her tone so hushed our heads nearly touch as we lean in to hear. “I mean, he’s killed lots of people. He’s like a hit man or some shit.”
“The club don’t have hit men!” Dallas snaps, her whisper laced in annoyance.
“They did.”
“No, they didn’t.”
“Well, they could have.”
“Well, they don’t.”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever yourself.”
I feel like I have whiplash by the time their argument is finished.
“I think he’s a dominant,” I say, just to see if they already knew that. They’re silent for a moment, tossing the idea around in their heads. After a minute, Dallas shrugs.
“Wouldn’t surprise me. All these guys have a dominant nature. You know,” she says, turning to me, her whisper dropping even lower. “Luke’s a dominant.”
“What? No!” I guess my fake surprise worked, because she’s nodding her head to reassure me.
“He is. I mean, he doesn’t like make me do submissive stuff or nothing, but he has spanked me before.” Now she has my attention.
“Really?”
“Yeah. One time we”—she motions with her finger at the three of them—“flew to Texas on this mob guy’s plane to his house. Somehow, Luke found out and drove six hours one way, walked in my office, took his belt off and whipped my ass.”
My nipples harden at the vision of Dallas getting spanked by Luke. Then my cheeks flush at the reminder of my own “belt whipping” encounters. I shake the thought from my head. “Damn. That’s a little extreme, ain’t it?”
“Not really. In this lifestyle, it’s not unusual for men to enforce their women’s behavior. I’m lucky my man punished me in a way that was deserving, but kinda arousing too. If Luke were any less of a man, I wouldn’t have all my teeth.” She beams at me and I smirk.
“Luke’s a really great guy. You’re lucky to have him, but he’s a lucky man too.” My admission is genuine. Dallas is a great person. Luke is a great man. Despite the demons of their past, they make it work. I’m glad they have each other.
“You know,” Dallas drawls, her eyes slowly dropping to my chest. “I’ve always wanted to do it with a girl.”
Her admission startles me. And turns me on. I quickly stand, nearly tripping over my own feet. “So!” I announce on a nervous smile. “Who’s ready for another drink?” Sex with Dallas will never happen. I couldn’t fuck an ol’ lady. No way…
My thighs tingle as I make my way to the bar—Dallas’ words playing on a loop in my head. Bic’s number simultaneously burning a hole in the back pocket of my jeans. But the desire I feel isn’t really for either of these women. Green eyes, strong hands and a thunderous cock are what fuel my hunger. And they belong to the man who just walked through the back door.
His lips quirk and his brow furrows in curiosity. He looks happy. Sexy. Tasty. I’m hungry…fucking starving for his hands on me. I want him right now. In this bar. He can take me on the pool table…against the wall…in the bathroom…
His mouth widens into a full-on smile. He tilts his head toward the door, and I nod. The bartender calls to me—asking me what I want. I ignore her. My feet move on their own accord—drawn to the promising look in Bryce’s eyes.
I follow him out. The back patio of the bar is swarming with people. The thick scent of marijuana hangs in the air. I breathe deep, trying to absorb the calming power of its aroma. But my body is too amped to feel its effect.
A streetlamp illuminates the back of the building except for one small section that’s shaded by the shadow of the dumpster sitting several feet away. Bryce steps into the darkness, pulling me with him. He presses my back against the cold bricks, and boxes me in—his body looming large in front of mine.
Anyone with an imagination could squint through the darkness, and make out our forms. But the chatter doesn’t die and no one seems to notice us.
Placing a finger over my lip, he whispers, “If you’re not quiet, my brothers are going to know we’re here. And they’re going to watch me fuck you.” I whimper, and he presses his finger harder against my lips. “This ain’t the clubhouse, Love. My brothers aren’t the only people out here.”
My eyes roam the crowd, noticing the unfamiliar faces and lack of cuts on the majority of the people for the first time. I shrink back—searching for more darkness, but there isn’t any. I’m not modest in front of the club or their affiliates. But just like at the river, there’s something dirty about this--fucking in front of complete strangers, most of which are average citizens out to have a good time.
I look up at Bryce who seems to delight in my uneasiness. A twinkle of mischief sparkles in his eyes and that wolfish grin bares his pretty teeth to me—making them appear even whiter and more perfect in the darkness.
“When I start, I’m not going to stop until I’m ready. I don’t give a fuck who’s watching.”
You know what? Come to think of it, I don’t really give a fuck who watches either. I want this. I want him. My carnal craving is worth the slight tinge of humiliation that’s quickly dissolving.
“Fuck me,” I pant, and the air between us shifts at my words. His mouth covers mine—our tongues meeting in the most erotic dance. My fingers move to his waist, unbuckling his chaps and then his belt. Seconds later, he springs free—his cock hot and hard in my hand. The flesh sears my fingers as I slide them along the soft skin—gliding over the bulging veins that swell further at my touch.
His hands are on my hips, tightening and relaxing in time with his groans that I silence with my mouth. He breaks the kiss and spins me around. My hands slap hard against the brick. The cold impact stinging my palms. Quick fingers unzip my jeans and push them down my thighs—taking my leggings and panties with them.
Cold air tickles across my naked ass, and I bite my knuckles to suppress a moan. He pulls my hips back to him, one hand pressing on the center of my back urging me lower.
“This is going to be quick, Love,” he whispers in the darkness. His hand smoothes across the soft flesh of my ass before dipping between my folds—finding me wet and ready for him. He lets out a low growl and presses the head of his cock inside me before stilling.
Wrapping my hair around his fist, he gently tugs. My chin lifts and my head falls back. His lips come to my ear—the movement forcing his cock to slide a few inches deeper inside me. “Don’t come until I do.” It’s his last words before he jerks his hips. The impalement makes me cry out, but his hand in my hair tugs, cutting off the sound.
He stills again. “Shhh…quiet, Love. I don’t like an audience.” My mind drifts back to the first time he fucked me. He’d stolen me from the group of men and kept me all to himself. “Your room. Where is it?” were his exact words.
The slick sound of my arousal mixed with our harsh breathing fills the air. My pussy is tender from the brutal sex we had earlier, but the feeling is delicious—making me even more aware of having him inside me. His pace quickens, and I bite my knuckle hard enough to break the skin in an attempt to contain my whimper of pleasure.
Our perverse act in front of a crowd, whose unawareness could change any moment, has my walls clenching tighter around him. I fight against the orgasm that threatens, centering my mind on how much greater it will feel when we come together. I’m afraid I won’t last much longer. To add to the pressure of trying to hold back, his hand moves to my clit—his finger rubbing circles on the swollen bundle of nerves.
“Bryce…” I hiss, knowing he’s well aware of what he’s doing to me.
“You ready to come for me, Love?” I mewl. “Let it go. I want to feel that sweet pussy come around my cock.” I release at the same moment he pulses inside me—flooding me with his heat. His hand slips from my hair, and covers my mouth—stifling the screams I’m incapable of holding back.
White light flashes behind my lids as I give myself over to the sensations. Every beat of my heart sends another jolt of pleasure surging through me. It feels so good. Too good. I don’t care that my pants are at my knees, or that I’m pressed against a building and stuffed with cock. It doesn’t matter that people stand merely feet from us while we’re hidden in the shadows of a dumpster.