...or something: Ronacks Motorcycle Club (7 page)

She still wanted him. Her crushing, her admiration, her fascination, whatever the connection she had with him had never lessened but had grown stronger. If anything, she wanted him more and she understood her body's reasons for the way she reacted to him better because she'd matured. She wasn't a young girl pretending or curious.

At sixteen years old, she knew the basics about sex. At seventeen, she had a good idea what sex would feel like and wanted to experience what it'd be like with Battery. At eighteen, she wanted the closeness she would only find with him. Deep in her heart, she willingly accepted that Battery would be the only man in her life.

She'd been miserable, frustrated, and aroused for years wanting him.

"I love you, Battery," she whispered.

"You love me because I take care of you. I put a fucking roof over your head. I bought you a car. I gave you a family." His arms bulged underneath his T-shirt, and he banged his fist against the counter. "You love me like a father, and carny-girl, there is nothing fatherly about how I feel about you. You are not ready for me. You probably will never be ready."

She braced her hands on the island counter and leaned toward him on the opposite side. "That's what you don’t understand, Batt. I am ready. I don't know how many ways I can tell you or show you."

He stared into her eyes, and like he'd done a million times, he shut down and pushed away from the counter. "Don't wait up for me."

Frustrated by her lack of ability to convince him what they felt for each other wasn't wrong, she whispered, "Whatever woman you'll end up with tonight downstairs will not be me. None of them will be me, and you won't get what you need from any of them."

The door slammed shut. She flinched.

Whatever made him approach her at the carnival, to come back, to take her away, still resided inside of him. Living with him was a sweet blessing and a heartache. How long would he make both of them suffer?

She groaned and fisted her hands. There was nothing she could do to convince him that she was sincere and understood the ramifications of him sleeping with her while she was under his roof. Battery had the thought that he was untouchable and answered to no one, including her. He refused to listen.

The music downstairs played faintly in the background. Bree pursed her lips. Or, was there something she could do?

Why was she hiding upstairs in the house, sulking over Battery while he joined everyone else in Ronacks and lived it up?

She walked around the island, opened the drawer, and removed a pack of Battery's smokes. He'd never let her drink, but he couldn't stop her from smoking anymore. He couldn't stop her from going downstairs and dancing. He couldn't stop her from being in sight to tempt him to keep his hands and his dick away from the women he used to try to forget about how he felt toward her.

B
ree stood on the pool table, gyrating her hips, her arms above her head, and her hair all over the fucking place. Battery remained leaned back in the chair with Jana straddling his lap facing him.  The same position he was in when Bree marched into the room, and he damn sure wasn't going to move because she decided to join the club after her party.

Rod rolled his empty beer bottle across the table to Hazel, a friend of Jana's, and said, "I'll get Raelyn to take Bree out of the room."

"No, let her be. It's her birthday," said Battery. He wanted to know how far Bree would go to prove how grown up she was at nineteen years old and what she'd do to convince him she was ready to get involved with him.

Jana forgotten, he gave Bree all his attention. She'd never understand that it wasn't her age that stopped him from putting her in the role of his woman.

Jana's hands wandered up under Battery's beard to his neck. He grabbed her wrist and put her hand on his cock. His gaze never left Bree. In his mind, Bree was his. She'd always been his.

His men knew Bree was off-limits. He'd kill anyone who touched her, and hoped that knowing they risked their membership with Ronacks and their life would keep them at a distance from Bree. He'd proven his word was law more than once.

Rod twisted open another cap on a beer bottle and flicked it across the room. "I'm taking Hazel and heading home."

"Ride with purpose, man," said Battery, continuing to watch the action happening around the pool table.

Bree pulled Raelyn up on the table, and together they aimed their ass toward each other and shimmied, twerked, and teased the men.

"I'll be around tomorrow night to take the run." Rod stood and leaned down to the side of Battery. "If you need me before then, give me a call."

Battery nodded. Late tomorrow, he'd leave for a few hours and come back with the money owed to the club and divvy salaries out to each member, clear down to the prospects who would get a glimpse of what life could be like if they patched into Ronacks.

Each member of Ronacks worked doing spot jobs at the bars, garages, and wherever anyone else needed a hand or security within the club's territory. Nobody got paid individually. Payments were due at the end of the month, and the money divided equally among the members and officers. In return, Ronacks gave security to each business that sought their help, and the MC kept the riffraff out of their territory.

His job was to make sure the club survived, provided, and co-existed, and so far, they were doing okay, even putting some money away.

Jana leaned forward and put her lips on his ear. "Let's go in the back. I'll make you feel good, baby."

Her hair got in his view. He pushed her away. "Go find someone else."

Jana pouted, begging him silently one more time. He ignored her, wondering where the fuck his MC brothers found the women that hung around his house. They needed to learn how to take no for an answer.

That went for Bree, too. She always pushed him and never backed down once she had her mind made up.

Jana moved off him, and he stood. Any minute, his MC brothers would settle down, either at the house, outside, or go home and take what the women who hung around were freely offering them. He wanted Bree out of the way where she wouldn't get it in her mind to push him too far. In fact, now that she was nineteen years old, maybe he should put her on the roster and let her work alongside the wives of the Ronacks members in town. Having her around less, he'd find it easier to tell her no.

He walked across the room, grabbed Bree's waist from behind and lifted her down off the table. Like a snake, she turned and pressed her breasts against him and continued dancing, rubbing, turning him on.

His cock hardened, and the eyes gazing back at him held the knowledge of what she was doing to him that he couldn't ignore. They were his carny-girl's eyes. Trusting. Begging.

Except, they were no longer innocent. She was hotter than shit and feeling the feelings with the maturity to entice him and had him throwing out his reasons for keeping his hands off her.

He grasped her upper arms, putting a stop to her dancing. Then, he lifted her up while he bent his head down and whispered in her ear, "You think you're not scared of me?"

Bree's body stilled. "Never," she said with more vehemence than he'd ever heard in her voice.

His chest tightened, and his balls ached in pleasure at the sultry way she drew out the word. Her soft hair skimmed the back of his hands, and he had to force himself not to haul her over his shoulder.

Grabbing her earlobe with his teeth, he growled. "Get your ass upstairs, carny-girl, and prove it."

Her body sagged. He let her go, and she instantly slipped her hand in his and led the way out of the room to the door leading upstairs. Even on his order, she never made a move without first making sure he would follow by taking him by the hand. A rebellious streak a mile wide and loyalty that never ended always pleased him.

Others jumped when he talked. Bree practically sighed in pleasure.

With the door shut behind him, the air quieted from the constant music and rowdiness downstairs. He ogled Bree's ass swaying side to side. His dick uncomfortably restrained in his jeans.

At the entrance to the living room, Bree turned, seeking what she should do next. He gave her no choice and hooked the back of her neck and captured her mouth.

Tight-lipped, Bree held on to his arms. He pulled back. If she had any experience kissing, the boys who'd done the deed had no idea how to teach a woman to please a man.

"Loosen up." He used the pad of his thumb to pull down her lower lip and opened her.

She licked him. The curious action came with no premeditated plan of seduction, and she gave him pure Bree. Curious. Bold. Hot.

Wanting to own the essence of who she was and who she belonged to, he replaced his thumb with his mouth and took her like a dying man with one last thing to say before he scared her and put tonight's idea to rest.

Her knees gave up on supporting her. He pressed his hand onto her lower back, holding her up and against him. Then, he dipped his tongue in the warmest, sweetest mouth he'd ever tasted. She sucked greedily, mixing her tongue with his, stroke for stroke and fucking fucked his mouth. His cock pounded inside his jeans to get to her. To have her do the same thing with her legs wrapped behind him would finally take the edge off of the heartache he'd lived with for years.

Hell, it wasn't an edge he stood on, but a big fucking cliff and one step off, he'd fly.

She squirmed against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He walked her backward, plastered her against the wall with his body, and used his hands to untie the string behind her neck to remove her bikini top.

He pulled his mouth away and peered into her half opened eyes. He needed to slow down. "Know you haven't had sex since you've been with me. Wouldn't let that happen. Kept you for myself."

"I've never..." Her reddened, swollen lips opened again to inhale an unsteady breath. "I've always belonged to you."

She had no choice in her loyalty. He made it impossible for her to think about anyone else. He tried to let her go and gave her the opportunity to experience what other teenagers got to do, but she wasn't like others. She had a world of practice at surviving, and she'd done a damn good job. Then he made her life hell.

He was tired of waiting. Waiting was impossible with her throwing herself at him. He wasn't supposed to want someone her age. 

People in the area talked. The club members speculated. He couldn't give a rat's ass what others thought about him and his situation, but he had to protect Bree. They had no idea or understanding of his connection to her.

Her needs. His needs. They fed off each other, no matter the mood.

He gazed down at her breasts, naked for his eyes only. Her ragged breathing brought them forward until her tits brushed him. He let her go, ripped off his vest, tossing it in the direction of the sofa, and grabbed the collar of his T-shirt behind his neck and pulled the shirt off. He needed her breasts on his skin.

Bree's mouth closed and she stepped away from him. Continuing to look at him, she hooked her thumbs inside the waist of her loose cutoff shorts and shimmied out of the rest of her clothes. Bare naked without a stitch of clothing, she returned to him and placed her hands on his stomach seeking guidance.

It hit him solid in the chest that he'd trained her. She never pretended obedience, because she'd grown up in the role of wanting to please him. The only thing they lacked was sex, and she eagerly waited for him to tell her what to do.

"Boots," he said.

She kneeled on one knee and found his laces. He couldn't wait for her to undress all of him and undid his belt, his button, his zipper, and then removed the pistol from his back pocket while staring at the top of her head bowed below him.

Bree gazed up at him. He cupped his hand under her chin and guided her up until she stood in front of him. "Take the gun, carny-girl."

She stood and held out her hand. When she held the weapon safely, Battery dropped his jeans, lifted her up into his arms, and carried her into the bedroom. If he was smart. If he was any kind of man. If he could beat back the need to make her his. He would put her in her room, in her bed, and walk away.

But, he wasn't that kind of man.

C
aught between excitement and fear, Bree sat Battery's pistol on the nightstand, crawled onto the bed and laid on her back and stared at Battery grabbing a condom off his dresser. She'd seen dicks before. There were times she'd walk into a room downstairs, and one of the members had things going on with one of the women who hung around the house. Other times, the club members would jump in the pond to cool off, and she'd secretly watch them.

But, she'd never seen Battery's dick. Though she'd imagined his cock many times when he lounged around in his boxers. She'd even got a hint of his hardness one time when she was teasing him on the couch during a movie. Several times, she spied him through a partially opened bathroom door and found herself laughing at his extremely white ass as he stood at the toilet. She'd even stared holes in his jeans trying to guess the length, width, and complete size of him.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared her for the reality.

His cock, hard and thick, stood straight out from his body leading the way back to her. If she believed Battery looked intimidating fully dressed, he looked deadly when fully naked and aroused.

"Don't look if it scares you," he said, putting his knee on the bed and laying down beside her, his weight pressing against her.

"I'm not scared." She lifted her chin, unsuccessfully ignoring the hardness against her outer thigh and the way her voice raised abnormally high and yet her pussy pulsed separately from her heart beat.

He smoothed her hair away from her face and lifted her head toward him. She opened her mouth the way he told her earlier, and he kissed her. He robbed her mouth, stripping her of her breath until she fought his dominance back and joined in the kiss.

Every inch of her skin broke out in a quiver, first cold, then hot, and somewhere in between she passionately participated in the kiss, and she couldn't get enough. Not only her mouth wanted more, but her lower body hummed for attention, and she hooked her foot over Battery's leg holding his thigh hostage against her.