Along Came Merrie (21 page)

Leo began a rhythmic thrusting that, combined with Braden caressing her breasts with his mouth and hands, soon had her panting and begging for release. Pleasure built and built until she couldn’t help but succumb. She cried out as the orgasm crashed over her and she rode the waves that Leo and Braden had wrung from her. When she stopped shuddering, Leo withdrew his fingers and proceeded to lick her cream off them.

Braden quickly slipped off his boxer briefs and his thick cock sprang up. He straddled her, being careful not to sit on her, and let his dick rest between her breasts.

“Merrie,” he murmured sexily. “Lick my cock.”

He began lightly thrusting and she did her best to push her tits together to provide a snug channel for him to burrow through. Each time he pushed up, she’d flick her tongue over him, delving into the hole. He groaned deeply, the sound turning her on. Knowing she gave him such pleasure heightened her arousal even more.

Leo spread her legs then buried his face between her thighs. He flicked her clit with his tongue before pushing it into her clenching channel. Over and over he played with her, teasing her lightly enough to keep her motor revved but not enough to trip her orgasm. Braden pulled back first, easing from between her breasts and off her chest to open Leo’s nightstand. He grabbed two condoms and a bottle of lube. Seeing it, excitement shot through her.
Oh yes, yes, yes, yes!
This was what she wanted, what she needed—her two men buried deep inside her body. Taking her. Claiming her.

When Leo rose from her pussy, she all but salivated for both their cocks. This time Leo slid home in her cunt and Braden teased her back entrance. Braden lubed her up, stretched her with a finger then two. He withdrew his fingers and just before the burn eased, he possessed her in one thrust. His cock filled her. Pain mixed with pleasure then faded into raw rapture. She floated in heaven as Leo and Braden pumped into her body, sending her higher and higher into orbit.

Her orgasm crested over her and she cried out loudly as she bucked wildly between them. Her pussy muscles squeezed and contracted around Leo’s cock, but her back hole also clenched tightly, sending both men over the precipice.

Later, they lay together in the darkness of the room, Merrie between them. She felt wanted, protected, and most importantly, loved. She’d finally found her place to belong.

Epilogue

This time around, Givon arrived second to the clearing. North watched behind his mirrored sunglasses as the sheriff pulled to a stop behind his beat-up truck. He scratched at the healing scab in his hairline, the bandage around his head now replaced with his usual American flag bandana. Givon jumped out from behind the steering wheel.

“What’s this fucking bullshit about Gray Dog being a hero?” North instantly demanded.

“I don’t know,” Givon answered. “Merrie Walden is sticking with the story.”

North snorted. “He threatened her, then.”

“If he did, I can’t do much about it unless she tells me the truth.”

“Well, shit,” North said. “We’ve had several businesses wanting the Demon Devils as their protectors instead of us. This is bad for the Wolves, Givon.”

“You’re going legit, North. I don’t need to hear about your extracurricular extortion activities.”

North chuckled. “There’s a reason why the Red Wolves are just over the county line. Your reputation is safe, Sheriff.”

“Fuck you, North,” Givon grumbled. “You’re still trouble in Destiny.”

“So what’s the deal between the three of them?” North asked.

“Who? Braden, Leo and Merrie?”

North nodded.

Givon shrugged. “They’re together.”

“Like…
all
together?”

“Well, I think it’s more a case of the two men share her,” Givon said.

“I don’t know…” North shook his head. “I can’t imagine sharing a woman in a long-term relationship. A one-night stand, sure, but no woman is worth being in bed with another man’s junk for the long haul.”

“Well,” Givon replied. “It’s not really our concern. But if it works for ’em? Hell, more power to them.”

“I guess. Hey, want to go fishing soon? I haven’t been to the lake since Old Patch died.”

“That would be great,” Givon said with a nod. “I could use a little break. Axe is going to remain an open case on my books since I can’t list him as dead, although I’m pretty positive we never have to worry about him again.”

“Yeah, that’s a sure bet.”

“Well, I better get back,” Givon stated. “Let’s get to that fishing trip soon, all right?”

“You betcha. Later, asshole.”

“Jerk,” Givon teased back.

Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

Burning Rubber

Lily Harlem

Excerpt

Chapter One

Johnny Cash’s throaty voice filled the mechanic shop, filtering beneath the pick-up I was working on. The engine had blown a gasket, an easy enough fix, but I’d needed to wait for the part to be delivered before I’d been able to get on with the job.

Son of a bitch owner was hassling me—kept coming in and staring at my tits and demanding to know when it could be collected. Not my fault he’d bought a fancy car and we lived out in the sticks. This neck of South Dakota wasn’t exactly top priority for deliveries, and the part had taken three days to arrive.

I wiped the back of my hand over my cheek and the slick coolness of a smear of oil chilled my skin. Winter was approaching. Soon I’d have to shut the huge doors facing the quiet road that brought us passing business. But that was okay. I didn’t mind winter here—it meant my boss, Bruce, closed the door of his office and stayed in there all day drinking bourbon and watching porn. It meant he was out of my hair.

I reached for a spanner. Idiot shouldn’t have hired a female mechanic if all he was going to do was moan about my gender forevermore. Didn’t seem to matter to him that I was the best damn engineer for miles around.

The song ended and the DJ started to rattle on about some festival in Denver, miles away and not something that interested me. I wasn’t a typical girl. I liked machines, shiny big bikes and cars that purred. Make-up and cocktails and dancing at parties wasn’t my thing. Give me speed and danger and horsepower—that’s what fueled my desires.

Suddenly the radio flicked off.

“Jesus, Sandra, what the fuck are you doing?” Bruce shouted.

A hard pain hit my ankle. He’d kicked the only bit of me sticking out from beneath the car. Bastard. But luckily I wore steel-toe capped boots that went well over the base of my leg.

“Asshole,” I muttered, scooting out on my support trolley.

He stood above me with his hands on hips and jowls wobbling. “Why haven’t you finished this fucking gasket yet?”

“Because I’m out here on my own,” I said. “I had two services to do this morning, for locals, and a guy stopped in with a slow puncture that I fixed.” I glanced at the big black-and-white clock on the wall above a shelving unit of spare parts. “And I should be heading home but I’m staying to get this done, out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Good fucking job.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

I could smell the alcohol from here.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve got anything to go home for, is it,” he added.

I ignored him. Misogynistic bastard wasn’t worth the emotional effort. Damn, I’d really have to find another job. I’d had enough. And it wasn’t like I was tied here anymore, not now Nan had passed two months back. I’d looked after her for three years and that’s what had kept me working for Bruce and putting up with his abusive shit. Now her finances were sorted, all I needed to do was sell her small house and the world would be my oyster.

Bruce hiccupped and wandered off, apparently forgetting that I was lying on the floor.

I shook my head and rolled back beneath the car. It wouldn’t take long then I could go home and make a meal for one. It still hurt that Nan was gone. She’d been as much of a support to me as I’d been to her, but she’d lived to a grand old age and I had a million happy memories.

I set to work on the gasket that was proving fiddly but it wouldn’t defeat me.

Bruce didn’t turn the radio back on. Instead, he locked up his office door—no doubt to protect his prize porn collection—and headed out onto the street.

As his faltering footsteps faded, I relaxed. I’d come to enjoy this time of the day, when he’d gone and it was just me and the machines. They were good company—they spoke to me with creaks and groans, they smiled at me with the shine on their bodies and they enthralled me with their resilience and power.

That was all fanciful thinking, of course. They were made of steel and a whole load of other stuff that wasn’t capable of thought, but they were predictable and didn’t let me down. One day I’d own something fabulous, a Ducati maybe or a souped-up streetcar. Something with style and panache, that had attitude and could hold its own.

But not around here.

I sighed and continued to work. Thoughts of traveling had filled my dreams this last month or so. ‘Itchy feet’ my Nan would have called it. I wouldn’t have contemplated leaving her alone. She was all the family I’d had, but now…

A low rumble sounded in the distance. Thunder. I didn’t think we had a storm forecast but up here in the hills, the weather was a law unto itself.

A breeze wended into the workshop and fluttered around me. I didn’t mind the onset of cooler weather—the snow and the ice chilled me but also made me feel alive. Being outside with the elements, with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face, was part of my soul, part of being a South Dakota girl. I wasn’t afraid of the seasons. I was made of tough stuff.

The thunder continued, rolling and bumbling along, much longer than usual. After a few more seconds, it dawned on me that it wasn’t thunder at all. It was something coming toward me, along the road.

Must be a car with a blown exhaust limping here. Well, it would have to wait until tomorrow. I’d done enough hours.

The engine got louder, so loud I realized that it was more than one vehicle making the noise. It was several. It became deafening, the sound vibrating around the small space beneath the pick-up and seemingly tapping through my bones.

I scooted out from beneath the car, dumped my spanner into my toolbox and stood. Wiping my dirty hands down my overall, I walked to the door and peered out.

Pulling up on the forecourt were about fifteen bikers all astride, by the looks of it, Harley-Davidsons. They were, without exception, dressed in black leather jackets that were adorned with patches. Most had helmets on with scarves covering the lower half of their faces and a few had passengers riding pillion.

I admired the chrome and black steel, breathed in the scent of the petrol and the hot rubber from where they’d burned up the mountain roads.

One bike rolled forward, its engine growling.

I tore my gaze from the fabulous chrome-winged handlebars and looked at the rider.

My heart rate picked up. I wasn’t usually the type of girl to be intimidated, and certainly this group of bikers didn’t bother me, but him…

His face was covered with a white scarf that had a picture of a black skull on it. I could only just see his eyes behind dark shades. His arms were bare—he wore a black T-shirt, and instead of a jacket, he had on kind of a waistcoat, but not the sort that would go under a suit. It was made of soft cracked leather and had badges stitched onto it.

I stared at his biceps and forearms. They were inked to the max. Big, intricate pictures that melted into one dark image that contained skulls, snakes and roses. The tattoos didn’t stop at his wrist. They went over the backs of his hand right to his knuckles.

“You work here?” he asked in a deep, gritty voice.

“Yeah, I’m the mechanic.” I straightened my hat, which had BB Services embroidered on the front, above the peak.

“Get me the owner.”

“He’s gone home for the day.”

“What? And left you, a girl, in charge?” He laughed and turned to his buddies. “Did y’all hear that?”

There was a collective murmur of mirth amongst the group.

I put my hands on my hips. It was the way he’d said
girl
that had riled me. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?” Fuck. As I’d spoken I thought what a stupid move it was to add attitude. I’d heard about gangs of bikers, Hell’s Angels, and probably shouldn’t provoke them. Didn’t they do bad things to people?

He turned off his bike—the last one with its engine running—and silence spread over the forecourt.

I tipped my chin, refusing to be threatened. They were on my territory.

I couldn’t help a shiver of nerves, though, or was it that breeze again?

The apparent leader dismounted. He stood by his bike and I got to see just how tall he was. His legs were like tree trunks and also encased in leather. He wore battered biker boots and when he turned side on and tugged off his helmet, I had a good look at his back view.

It was high and taut and the leather caressed his behind to perfection. How could such a bad ass have such a good ass?

I folded my arms and watched as he balanced his helmet on the seat and ran his hand through a mass of dark curly hair.

He then turned to me and tugged down the skull scarf, revealing his face.

He had sharply angled features and a healthy dose of stubble on his jawline and chin. His lips were full and thick and when he shoved his glasses to the top of his head, pushing back his hair, I saw that he had black-as-night irises, heavy lashes and eyebrows and a scar sliced across his right cheek in the shape of a crescent.

Fuck, he was the most handsome, rough-and-ready bastard I’d seen in a long while.

“What’s your name, mechanic girl?” he asked, stepping up close.

He came so near he invaded my personal space, but refusing to be overwhelmed, I stood my ground and looked up at him. The scent of the road and the open air seemed to swirl around him, along with petrol and leather. He was earthy, masculine and he had a sinful glint in his eye that tugged at a female part of me that had been dormant for a long time.