One Hundred and Thirty-Six Scars(81)

I shake my head, bringing my face down to his and laying a soft, quick kiss on his warm lips. “I can’t. I have a job and a house. I’m only four hours away.”

His jaw ticks under the pressure he’s placing on it. He wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me down to him. “Well…” he growls against my lips, “…at least I know you’re good with a bow. I need to see you every weekend, though. And this is short term. I mean it.”

I laugh, pulling his lip into my mouth and circling it with my tongue. “Works for me.”

“Third thing?” I ask, tilting my head.

“Blood Razors want retribution for what happened. They want Layla.”

No.

“What do you mean? No way, you can’t just pass her over.”

He shrugs. “There’s not much we can do. It’s not worth starting a war with them over, and we don’t need the added heat on our tail right now. It’s gotta happen, babe, I’m sorry.”

I push off him. “No. No, it doesn’t. How could you guys do that to her, Beast?”

“We’re a motorcycle club, babe. Not a high school dorm. She knew the repercussions when she did it. She’s no-one’s Old Lady so she’s not under our protection.”

“Beast, I can’t be okay with that. She’s a human, she has rights.”

“She’s not a civilian, babe. She has no rights. If it makes you feel better, Tiny, the president of their chapter has a hard dick for Asha.”

“Well, it doesn’t because it’s not Asha who’s going,” I scoff.

“Oh, Asha will. She’ll take it for Layla, I’m almost certain of it. She and Tiny have history and she would do anything for Layla.”

“Okay,” I answer, my eyebrows drawing together.

“Are you done?” he asks. “Don’t worry about it, babe. This is a whole different world. We operate differently here, nothing bad will happen to Layla.”

“Okay then, if you say so.”

“I do say so,” he answers with a smirk, grinding his hip into my crotch, the lining of his shaft rubbing along my slit through my pajama bottoms. I laugh, ripping my shirt off as he pulls me down to him. Sucking one of my nipples into his mouth, his tongue runs circles around it before he lightly bites down. I throw my head back, beginning to grind into him slowly. When he pulls my nipple out from his mouth, he wraps my hair around his fist and runs his other down my back slowly while matching my grind. Wrapping his hand around the band of my shorts, he rips them off and I jump up to give him easier access. Sliding his briefs down, I lightly run my hand back up, inside his ripped inner thighs, skating over his balls lightly as I grip onto the bottom of his shaft.

A low hiss escapes his mouth as I slide my mouth down to his pulsing cock, the tip of his helmet slick with need. Slowly, I draw my tongue out, sliding it around the base of his shaft, peeking up at him under my lashes before wrapping my mouth around the tip of his helmet, circling him as I pull him deep into my throat. A low growl escapes his mouth as he wraps my hair around his fist, pulling on it roughly. I love giving him head. It gives me a sense of power. I can bring his world crashing down on him with the magic of my tongue.

Bopping my head up and down, he gets up into a sitting position, wrapping his hands around my hips and lifting me effortlessly over his chest so I’m straddling his neck. I’ve obviously never done sixty-nine before, and to be honest, I’m a little unsure about it. The exposure is very—close. Having his face in the same proximity as my a-hole is a little uncomfortable if you know what I mean. As soon as his warm mouth cloaks me, all thoughts of a-holes and faces are thrown out the window. His tongue slides in and out of me in slow sensual suctions and my thighs clench together. He brings his hands up behind my thighs, spreading them away slightly before rubbing his thumb down my cheeks and landing a loud slap on my cheek.

“Play time’s over.”

Pulling my head back, I wipe at my mouth just as he pulls me up by my hips, pushing my head down into the bed so I’m face down, ass up. He sinks himself into me. Stretching to accommodate him again, every time he enters me is just as uncomfortable as the last. He is big—everywhere. Once he’s in deep, he pulls out and begins his pace. The head of his cock rubs perfectly over my g-spot, every thrust sending shivers of ecstasy through me until my throat runs dry and my limbs quiver.

I think he’s going to wear me out by the time I go back to Westbeach.





The next morning, the sun breaks through the net curtains, lighting up the inside putting a strain on my eyes. Squinting, I cover my eyes with the palm of my hand, flipping over to feel Beast’s spot empty. Sitting up in bed, I wrap the sheet around me and feel around for my clothes. After failing miserably, I find Beast’s The Devil’s Own white T-shirt with the club’s emblem on it and throw it on. It looks ridiculous because it sits past my knees. I chew on my lip nervously as my eyes scan the floor one more time. When I see the edge of my little pajama shorts, my face beams as I pick them up quickly and pull them on. Slipping the hair tie out of my hair, I tie a knot on the back of the shirt to keep it up. It slides up to show my stomach every now and then but I’m not bothered. It’s only Melissa here. Pulling open the door, I make my way down the hallway I’ve become accustomed to, then down the stairs I’ve been down every morning. I round the corner and walk into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and not glancing into the living room that sits to the side of the kitchen. I bring the bottled water to my lips and close the door, turning to face the living room. I jump in my tracks when around eight big bikers are laying out on the sofa and floor, watching me closely.