I'm Only Here for the Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #4)(17)

I'd obviously done something to displease him.

"Let's go," I ordered.

She pulled her arm out from my grip and then ran toward my house, heading where my father had just disappeared inside.

"I have to check this out," she said. "Just give me two more minutes."

I ran after her, caught up to her, overtook her, and then turned and planted myself in front of her. The moment she stopped, I bent forward, picked her up, and tossed her over my shoulder. I was careful not to put her weight on her ostomy side, and marched straight toward my bike, passing my brothers and their wives, who were all laughing their asses off.

"Shut it," I grumbled as I passed them.

Tommy Tom took his seat on his bike, followed shortly by me on mine.

The rest of them followed suit, and then, eventually, so did my father.

"That better not be in my bathroom," I grumbled at my father.

My dad didn't say a word as he mounted his own bike and started it up.

Finally in place, I set a laughing Naomi on her feet and glared at her. "Get on, Nay Nay."

She bared her teeth at me.

Reaching out, I enclosed her small wrist in one of my hands and pulled her forward.

She came forward on a gasp, and when she was only inches away I moved my face in to meet hers and said, "Spankings. Lots and lots of spankings."

She grinned, and I broke.

I couldn't help it.

I pulled her the last few inches to my mouth and slammed my mouth down on hers.

She tasted like fire.

Fucking fire.



       
         
       
        

Cinnamon and something else that made me want to stay buried in her mouth forever.

But I couldn't.

Mostly because engines were starting, and my club was yelling at me to 'get a room' and 'be off' at the same time.

I let her up and her cheeks were flushed.

Blonde curls were scattered all over the place, and I grinned unrepentantly at her.

"Get on, baby."

She got on, and not another word was said for the next half an hour as we rode to the smokehouse.





Chapter 6


Do you ever look at someone's kid and think 'this one is going to be an asshole when he grows up?' Yeah, me too.

-Naomi's inner contemplations

Naomi

I was in hog heaven, literally and figuratively.

Literally, because I was surrounded by no less than a thousand motorcycles. A full lot in front, and just as much in the back. All of them were loud, and I was having the time of my life.

Figuratively, because I was on the back of Sean's bike, and he'd given me the kiss of a lifetime before we'd left.

I wasn't sure yet whether it was because he was mad at me or because he wanted me to shut up.

Either way, I was going to cherish that kiss for the rest of my life.

I was also going to do something bad. Very, very bad.

Which was sleep with my partner.

And I was going to enjoy every fucking second of it.

Sean hadn't come out and told me that he wanted to fuck me. In fact, all he'd really done was touch me-and not even inappropriately.

All that'd been done were slight touches. A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of my leg there.

All in all, it was really quite innocent.

But what made me sure that he wanted me was the permanent hard on that'd been tenting the front of his pants.

He'd been extremely cool about it, but it was near impossible not to feel it-or see it.

At the beginning of the ride, I'd had my arms cinched tight around his waist. But as time went on, and my arms became tired of holding on that hard, I let them slip to pool in his lap. A lap that was housing a very impressive erection.

At first I'd left it there, not sure whether I should move my hands and make it known that I knew he had a problem.

But then, as time wore on, I realized that I didn't much care if he knew that I knew he had an erection. So I stayed with my hands wrapped loosely around his tight belly, resting lightly against his jeans.

Jeans that fit so snugly that each time I actually looked into his lap, I could see the long thick column of his cock reaching down into the legs of his jeans. 

The bike slowed, and I looked up and smiled at the woman beside me.

She wasn't one of ours. In fact, the biker girl leather jacket that she was wearing declared her part of The Uncertain Saints MC.

I waved at her, and she winked at me, picking her hand up to play with some of her hair that had slipped free of her hot pink helmet.

I'd started counting the bikers when we'd first started, and slowly decided that maybe counting wasn't going to work since we had so many surrounding us.

Instead, I started counting the different vests that declared which motorcycle club the men and women belonged to.

So far, I was at twenty-four different organizations. Only one of which I actually knew lived in the area-That being the Dixie Wardens MC.