Throttle's Seduction(Insurgents MC Romance Book 7)(35)

Rags jerked his head back. "Nothing. Just saying."

"Well, quit saying." Kimber crossed her arms over her chest.

"Babe, leave it alone." Throttle put his arm around her, but she twisted out of it.

"I'm not leaving anything alone. If I were a guy, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"But you ain't a man. You're a bitch, and it's fuckin' weird for a bitch  to do a man's job," Wheelie said as Rags opened his mouth.                       
       
           



       

"Stop calling me a bitch. I'm a woman. How'd you like it if I called you a bastard?"

Several of the brothers had come over when they heard the heated  discussion, and many of them grumbled under their breaths that the bitch  had a mouth and Throttle better control her before she got her ass  thrown out. Kimber met their glowering gazes with a defiant one. Wheelie  had taken a few steps toward her, his nostrils flaring. Before he could  lay into her, Throttle pulled her to him and whispered in her ear,  "Fuckin' leave this alone."

"I can't," she whispered back.

"You gonna let your woman talk to a brother like that, man?" Hoss said as the others voiced their disdain.

"Kimber was just having a good time with me when some of the brothers  thought it was okay to disrespect her. That wasn't okay," Throttle  explained.

"You're not answering the fuckin' question," Wheelie said, his scowl still fixed on Kimber.

She knew it was huge to lose face in front of the brotherhood, and  Throttle's loyalty was to the club first-always first. Citizens just  couldn't understand it, and she'd had a hard time with it when she first  became acquainted with the outlaw world, but she'd grown to admire the  brotherhood and the fierce loyalty they had to each other. Warmth flowed  through her as she witnessed Throttle trying to protect her and not  lose his brothers' respect. She'd gone too far, had let a couple of  assholes turn her evening out into a crusade for feminism. It didn't  matter what they thought about her, only what she thought about herself.  She didn't want Throttle to defend her and risk losing his brothers'  esteem.

"I was out of line," she said, looking at Wheelie. "I'm sorry."

"You fuckin' better be," he gritted.

"I was disrespectful to the brotherhood. I do apologize." The words  sounded hollow to her, but they were what the brothers wanted to hear,  so they nodded and shuffled back to the pool tables and bar, a few of  them agreeing that "she knew her place." She stiffened but kept her  mouth shut. If she were going to continue seeing Throttle-and she really  wanted to-she'd have to keep her mouth in check. Being a woman involved  in the outlaw world meant knowing her place and watching her mouth.  From the way Throttle stared at her, she knew he was super pissed, and  she hoped she hadn't blown it with him.

"Kimber, do you want to join us for a drink and appetizers?" Cara asked.

She nodded, ready to break away from the tension that filled the air  around her and the men. She touched Throttle's arm. "I'm going to join  the women for a bit, okay?"

His fierce eyes bored into her. "Come with me." He clutched her hand and  dragged her behind him down a hallway, to a back room. Inside, he  whirled her around, facing him. "What in the fuck were you thinking by  shooting off your mouth like that?"

Her defenses flared up. "I don't like being treated like I'm inferior  just because I'm a woman. The way they were calling me ‘bitch' and  dissing me pissed me off."

"You act like this is the first time you've been around bikers. You know we call women ‘bitches.' It doesn't mean shit."

"I know, but it doesn't mean I like it. The fucking respect thing goes  two ways. If your brothers want it, they have to give it too. Problem is  men are always thinking life is one way with a woman-their way. It just  got to me, that's all. I probably overreacted, but it's been a shitty  week." She flipped her hair over her shoulders.

Throttle's jaw relaxed and he pulled her to him. "I do agree with my  brothers about one thing-you've got a mouth on you. And you're right  about the respect stuff. The guys were acting like you were a slut, and  that's what pissed me off. I wish you would've let me handle it,  though."

She shrugged. "I've been handling things ever since I ditched my ex. The  day I decided to leave him was the day I swore I wouldn't take any shit  from a man ever again."

He pressed her to him. "You're always fighting, sweet one. Relax a bit.  Sometimes it's good to have a man take care of you, but you have to let  him." He tangled his hand in her hair and jerked her head back. "The way  you were sparking out there fuckin' turned me on." He moved his mouth  over hers, devouring its softness. His kiss sent new spirals of ecstasy  through her. "I need you, babe," he said, his breath hot against her  skin.

"Me too," she croaked.                       
       
           



       

Then his hands were all over her-touching, squeezing, pinching-as he  walked her backwards until she was against the wall. With one hand, he  pinned her arms above her head as he kissed and nipped the side of her  neck, her ears, and her shoulders. He slipped his other hand around her  waist, stroking her as his demanding lips seared her skin.

Heat engulfed her, rushing to every corner of her body: her curling  toes, her aching nipples, her throbbing mound. Desire saturated every  inch of her as she squirmed and rubbed against the wall. In a matter of  seconds, her mesh dress was crumpled on the floor next to them, and her  hard nipples strained against the thin fabric of her bra, begging to be  sucked. He slipped his finger under her bra and brushed the underside of  her breasts. "Bite them," she rasped, and he trailed a scorching path  from her shoulder to her tits, lightly biting her hardened beads through  the fabric.

Twisting her arm behind her, she unhooked her bra, revealing pert  breasts with pink, hard nipples. He growled and circled her areolas with  his tongue as she yanked his hair, mad with lust as she waited for him  to pull her nipple into his mouth. As he bit and sucked her tits, he  pulled down her sheer panties and cupped her butt in his hands,  squeezing and grunting as he kneaded his hardness against her. Backing  up a bit, he unzipped his jeans and tugged them and his boxers down, his  erect cock poking at her. She curled her fingers around it; it was hot  and pulsing, and her mouth watered.

"I love it when you touch my cock. I'm about ready to explode here, babe. Is you pussy ready for it?"

"It's been ready for you since you picked me up tonight."

"Yeah?" He sucked her breasts hard, leaving red marks as he slid his  finger between the folds of her swollen lips. "You're so fuckin' wet.  Damn." He brought his finger back up, his smoldering gaze catching hers,  and put it in his mouth, slowly licking her juices off. "Fucking  delicious."

Surges of electrified passion sparked through her as she watched him  lick her off his finger. Right then, she was connected to him through  desire and longing, and she had no intention of ever letting him go.  "Fuck me," she moaned through parted lips.

He reached under her chin and stroked her jawline. Her lips opened  slightly and their breaths mingled. In one movement he lifted her, his  hands under her firm ass, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.  When he thrust into her heated pussy, she cried out, sliding her hands  inside his T-shirt and raking her nails down his back.

Over and over he pumped into her as he bit her breasts, kissed her neck,  and sucked her nipples. "You're so beautiful and awesome. What the fuck  have you done to me?" he grunted with each thrust.

"What the fuck have you done to me?" she panted, the burning desire  beginning to uncoil. Sex had never been that intense; Throttle did  something to and for her that no man had ever done. He'd gotten into her  blood, and even though she knew that was dangerous, as he thumped and  shoved into her, she didn't give a damn at all. She just needed and  wanted him.

The dam broke, flooding every inch of her with waves of intense rapture  she'd never known with a man before she met Throttle. She held on tight  for fear of collapsing on the floor. His grunts and groans mixed with  the warmth of his come shooting inside her and spilling out. She slid  her legs down his corded thighs, and they pressed together as each one  of them regained their composure.

He kissed her shoulder. "Fuck."

She kissed the side of his face. "Wow."

As she pulled back, she saw his sparkling eyes and lopsided grin, and  she couldn't help but smile back. "I guess we should go back out and  join the others. I'll hang at the women's table and let you do the macho  thing with the guys."