Bo (18 page)

I looked up as she panted. Her back was arched, tits thrust up, head cranked back. She widened her legs as I hungrily lapped in and all around her sweet pussy. She gripped the bedpost behind her. My cock was in agony, still angled down the inseam of my half-opened pants, but the feast in front of me was too good to pass up. Her ass in my hands, I planted her on my mouth and tongue-fucked her until her thighs trembled. Her fingers speared my hair. She rolled her hips and dipped up and down on my lashing tongue.

“Yeah.” I leaned back for a second, and she cried out with the loss. “Like that.” I sucked her clit and her hips bucked frantically. “Ride my face, V.”

She howled when she came, bearing down on me, filling my mouth with a sweet rush of liquid. I held her to me with my hands clamped on her waist as her body shivered and danced and shattered apart.

When her breathing slowed, I kissed my way up her panting body, tugging her nipples between my teeth again. Her eyes shot open—hazy, swirly, dark.

I whipped off my belt. Pushed off my pants. Finally freed, my cock banged up against my abdomen with a loud slap.

V’s gaze wandered up and down my body.

“Get on the end of the bed. On all fours. Facing me.” Stern, deep, husky, my voice rasped out.

I was barely in control of my urges.

She walked slowly around the bed, swaying that fucking amazing ass. Taunting me. I gritted my teeth. As she crawled onto the mattress, I started to piston my shaft through my fist.

The veiny length shined with precome. The head of my cock looked massive every time my hand butted against it, pushing more blood into it.

With her kneeling forward in front of my cock, I guided her face to it. “Suck it.”

Her plush lips opened, and she pressed long, hot, open-mouthed kisses down the throbbing column. I brushed her hair away from her face, holding it at the base of her neck. Her nose buried between my thighs as her tongue stretched to slurp wet rings around my balls, she pushed her ass up at a lewd angle and waved it around. I reached over to spank it. Her flesh jiggled, and I barked a harsh laugh.

Bending back, I tipped up her chin. With one hand wrapped around her fingers that curled over my cock, I rubbed it over her upturned face, across her lush parted lips.

She gasped and turned her mouth to follow the trail of my dick.

I laughed again, pulling away from her hands and her mouth. “Greedy for this cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Please. I want you in my mouth.” She arched her back like a kitten in heat, rolling out her tongue, waiting.

My hands on her shoulders, I slid inside that hot wet cavern, shouting as she sucked on each slow inch entering her. Grasping my base, I pulled out.

“Fucking hell, V. Look at you. Thought you were so proper. Guess I was wrong.”

“Give it to me, Bo,” she mewled, licking her saliva wet lips until they shined even more.

I did just that, sinking more than half the length of my cock inside her mouth. I leaned right over her and took hold of her ass in both hands. Plunging in and out of her lips, I lightly smacked the mounds of her butt. Her mouth grew wetter. Her licking more frantic. Her moans heady and continuous, almost drowning out my groans.

Primal, feral, fearsome need rippled and roared through me, but my come wasn’t going to be spattered down her throat. I wanted it planted deep inside her cunt.

With a shout, I stood back, withdrew. My cock felt like a solid bar of flesh attached to my body.

V gazed at me, licking her well-used lips.

“You’ve been building me up, playing with me all night.” Prowling beside her, I positioned her in the center of the bed, on her back, hips tilted up. I ripped a slit down the center of the gown. “Now I’m gonna fuck you the way you always wanted me to.”

“Oh hell yes!” She grabbed onto my shoulders, taking my mouth as I thrust powerfully inside.

“You are my woman.” Pushing up the backs of her knees, I switched angles and drilled even deeper from above.

“Yes. Oh, God, yes!” V’s fingers dug into my biceps.

She met every extreme lunge, rocking up as much as she could. Wet and clinging, her pussy fluttered. Wild and loud, she cried out as I hit the very mouth of her womb.

“I’m your man.” I slammed into her, mashing my pelvis to hers, and she went off with intense pressure, convulsing around my cock.

The second her orgasm ended, she was softer and so much wetter.

My thighs shaking, my body stretched out on a tripwire of arousal, I slowed.

Long aching drives inside. Unbelievable tension just building, building.

Low moans. Slow kisses.

I held her face between my hands, trying to stave off the racing pulse gathering in my body.

Her eyes blinked open and her lips curved. “I can’t wait for you to come inside me, Bo. Fill me. I want to feel it.”

The breath dragged out of my chest with a last growling groan, and I pushed all the way inside her, my cock rutting, my hips kicking, muscles twitching as the most intense feeling sizzled and swelled and rushed out . . . and ebbed. Slowly.

So slowly.

Her hands lazily coasted up and down my back.

One of mine spread across her belly. I held her to me with an arm curled around her neck. We kissed, whispering in the dark.

“I can’t wait to christen that bike.” She tweaked one of my nipples.

I chuckled. “I can’t even move.”

“Not even if I do this?” Her fingers trailing down the center of my abs, she brushed her knuckles against my cock.

It swelled predictably.

“You don’t play fair.” I nudged her thigh with mine. “About the motorcycle. Bought you a full set of leathers too.”

“I can’t wear those.”

Shit.
Of course not. Not exactly Doctor Hartley gear . . .

Her lips pursed at my ear, she whispered, “Not until the weather cools down. But I could definitely put them on just for you.”

“Have I told you I love you?” I smiled against her warm, sweet neck.

“Something like that.” She sighed when I cinched her closer, dragging my hands down her back. “I love you too, Bo. You’re my home.”

And she was mine.

Coletrane: Bad Boys of Retribution MC #
4

The finale in the sizzling summer series!

Hunter
:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UWHWMO8

Kinkaid
:

http://www.amazon.com/Kinkaid-Bad-Boys-Retribution-Book-ebook/dp/B0107FKIP4/

Bo
:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ZDWEBJQ

Coletrane
:

http://www.amazon.com/Coletrane-Bad-Boys-Retribution-Book-ebook/dp/B011ADPC26/

RETRIBUTION MC. TUNES BLASTING. Drinks pouring. Denim- and leather-clad honeys dancing. Folks laughing. Pool balls knocking, and the dartboards a’rockin’.

This was the fucking life.

The grand opening party for Bo and Kinkaid’s double business venture had relocated from HardCorps Gym/Hardcore Strippers to the clubhouse, and the usual suspects crowded the room from corner to corner.

We had cops, a few reformed ex-cons, ex-military, accountants, business owners, people from every walk of life. I stood behind the shiny steel bar watching all the well-wishers party hard in honor of Kinkaid and Bo.

Man, I couldn’t be prouder or happier for Kinkaid if he was my real brother. After what had happened with his grampa, and almost losing Sadie—more than once—he deserved some good fortune.

As for Bo, well, he’d had the
scary
almost sucked out of him by Veronica. Now he laughed instead of scowled, threw grins instead of his knives, and often thanked Hunter for setting him up with Doctor Veronica Hartley instead of threatening to kill him for making him get his head shipshape.

Yeah, Bo was another man who warranted success and joy.

Hunter—ex-Black Ops and now police force all the way—had been my mentor in his usual give-no-fucks/take-no-prisoners style. The man, who’d been a mystery when he first joined Retribution, thought I could have a career in Blue. I wasn’t so sure about that. I had a habit of attracting bullets. The latest slug had bit me in the shoulder when we’d brought the pain down on Iron Nails MC in order to get Bo’s lady back. That motherfucking bullet had wrecked one of my tats—and I was just a little bit precious about that shit. Hunter had done his best, stitching me up with no anesthetic beyond a few shots of hooch in a Jacksonville hotel room, his old partner Walker playing nurse in the most sarcastic way possible.

Since throwing my helmet in the ring with Retribution MC my life had been anything but boring. Not that it had ever been a snooze-fest one way or the other.

This club had been through just about everything: murders, raids, deaths, betrayal, abductions . . .
strippers
. . . weddings. That was only in the past year and a half. I patched through last November. Previously I’d been known as Probie
Original Recipe
. Now I had my colors and my roadname:
College.
Kinkaid had been Probie Version 2.0, but he’d made it into the brotherhood in March as
Ryder
. Just his last name, nothing more than that, in honor of his grandfather. The two of us still shared the shit work until a new prospect showed up, but we’d gained respect.

“What are you grinnin’ at, butt boy?” Just then Tail—number one Pussy Hound—called over to me.

Respect?

Shiiiit
.

“You keep talkin’ about my ass that way, I’ll start thinkin’ you wanna lick it.” I shot back.

“Oh hell no. I don’t munch butt.” He shuddered.

“Not on dudes anyway.” Brodie Steele knocked an elbow into Tail’s ribs.

“Well,
yeah
.” Tail rolled his eyes as he twirled his personalized pool cue like a fucking majorette’s baton.

Several other men within earshot, which was the entire bar, blushed.

Yeah. I hadn’t met a man yet who minded eating tail, me included, except I didn’t blush about it.

I slung the dirty bar cloth in Tail’s face. “Ass
wipe
. Why don’t you make yourself useful for a change.”

“I am.” Laughing, he slapped the damp cloth down in front of me. “I’m the eye-candy, didn’t you know?” He ground his pelvis against the bar, raising his arms.

Instantaneously, four women surrounded him, goddamn purring for his attention.

Pussy hound
.

As the usual jokers went in search of someone else to fuck with, I started rinsing glasses. They piled up at the end of the bar next to the massive knife sharpening stone that had more than a few nicks in it. My hardware jangled at my wrists and neck. I’d taken off my leather cut as soon as I’d entered the keep. It was end of July. Mount Pleasant, South Carolina. Hotter than
Hade’s
asshole, come to think of it.

Cold air gusted in through the vents, but it wasn’t enough to cut through the haze of all the happy, hot bodies taking up residence in the bar, possibly for the entire night. I considered getting rid of my ribbed tank top, too, but thought better of it. This wasn’t Kinkaid’s old playhouse palace—The Gentleman’s Quarters—where dudes got their clothes off so women could get their rocks off.

Although that wasn’t to say public nudity didn’t happen on occasion in the middle of the Retribution barroom.

I rinsed another glass, quietly chuckling when I overheard badass Bo mentioning to Hunter the ball and chain with Veronica was anything but bad.

I know my way around a ball and chain.

Half an hour later, Kinkaid and I were tossing bottles of liquor back and forth, juggling that shit, pouring out drinks one-handed behind our backs in front of a growing crowd who yelled their lungs out and whistled through their teeth. I didn’t have to worry about Kinkaid
stripping off and getting on top of the bar any time soon. He’d made a vow to his girl Sadie, and the lap dances were reserved for her eyes only.

“Cole! Here’s the girl I wanted you to meet.”

I looked around, pouring two neat fingers of whiskey without even watching the alcohol glug out. 

Sadie approached. Pretty Sadie. She’d make any man’s pulse roar with the long sandy hair, hardcore ink, the Suzuki dirt bike . . . and all that attitude, but my eyes were instantly glued to
the girl
.

Girl?

Fuck that. She was a full-blown woman.

No way was she a member of our sister charter, the First Ladies of Redemption. Hell, the way she carried herself, she could’ve been born into one of the famous First Families. But her look was pure Marilyn Monroe.

Platinum blonde. Polished. Pin-up hot. Pale seafoam green eyes. Classically beautiful, with rockin’ curves and screen starlet red lipstick.

Instant attraction. Instant run in the other direction. And I knew all about running.

Before I could book it, Kinkaid whispered, “Welcome to your worst nightmare,” and Sadie was practically on top of me with Little Miss Posh in tow.

Hunter watched with a smirk.

Bo with too much interest for my liking.

Kinkaid with a shake of his head in Sadie’s direction.

Dickheads.

Under their scrutiny, I felt the uncommon heat of a motherfucking blush on my cheeks.

“Coletrane, this is Sinclair Chatham.” Sadie dragged me forward. My boots probably left skid marks on the floor. “Sinclair, meet Cole.”

“Coletrane. A pleasure,” the remarkably hot woman purred.

My rough hand met her manicured one, and a sizzle of heat spread low down my spine, knocking me in the balls.

She screamed
money
. I had like two extra bucks in my bank account after I paid my rent.

I glared at Kinkaid.
Wingman?
More like the hangman.

Drawing my hand away, I scanned Sinclair again.
Sinclair
. Must’ve been some kind of fancy family name. Got the
Sin
part down right, though. High tits. Perfect wavy hair. The indent of her waist made my mouth water. Luscious. Lovely. Way out of my league.

Sadie disappeared as fast as her feet could carry her. All the dudes glanced over, pretending they were just scanning the joint and not avidly watching the scene unfold before them.

Kinkaid hopped off to
get another case of beer, braw
.

“I’ve never been in a motorcycle club before.” Sin’s voice rolled out like a well-oiled engine.

She made all my pistons fire just like that, but I wasn’t a wet-behind-the-ears dipshit willing to be taken for a ride. I preferred to be in the driver’s seat when it came to women.

“No shit? Wouldn’t have guessed.” I half-smiled at the babe in high heels and the silky skin-tight dress with the expensive perfume almost making me drug-out in nirvana from the teasing scent alone.

“Are you going to get me a drink?” she asked.

“Yeah, Probie! Get the woman a drink already.” Hunter heckled, so entertained.

I flipped him off, heading around the bar. “What’s your pleasure, Sinclair?”

“Cosmopolitan.”

Of course. She had
Sex and the City
written all over her
.

In the next instant, she pushed up on the bar and . . .
cleavage
. And more perfume like a hashish haze and just as potent.

Then her husky laugh coiled around me. “Kidding. I can drink like a big girl too.” Those big soft green eyes widened as she sucked on the pad of her fingertip, giving me ideas about schoolgirl porn. “Whiskey.
Raw.
”

No shit? I poured from Hunter’s special bottle, handed her the glass with a goddamn cocktail napkin, too.

“No ice? You sure?” I asked.

“Like I said”—she slipped her carnal lips to the rim of the glass and swilled the amber liquid down—“I like it raw.”

“That’s good.” Drawn to her, I swiped my fingertip across her bottom lip. “Me too.”

The tip of her tongue snuck out, touching my finger.

I pulled back as soon as her wet lick stung my flesh. 

Smiling, Sin cradled her drink between her hands. “Are you up for a pool game?”

“Can do.” At least then I’d have something to do with my eyes other than staring at her like I’d never seen a woman before.

Maybe the princess wasn’t as petted and privileged as I’d thought. Or maybe I just wanted to see where this would go.

Probably not a wise move, but I wasn’t always the good guy.

As we waited for one of the pool tables to open up, Sinclair danced to the music, hitting every note with her swiveling hips. 

I rubbed a hand over my mouth, watching her. The woman was so hot she looked like she didn’t even need a partner to get off.

The track ended and she sauntered over to me. “I like your chains.” She brushed the thick rings on my neck, then around my wrists.

My skin sizzled wherever she touched, causing chaos with my suddenly rough respiration.

“Yeah. Well, they’re not Van Cleef or whatever.”

“Oh, I know.” As her head tilted, the light from one of the bright beer signs caught the big diamonds in her ears. “I have enough of that stuff to know the difference.”

Big surprise there.

This woman did not fit in here.

“You’re up, Cole.” Tail knocked me on the shoulder with his pool stick. “Go easy on the new cherry. Wouldn’t want her to break a fingernail.”

Sin grabbed a cue off the rack and expertly rubbed the chalk over the end.

Her eyebrow arched in Tail’s direction, her million dollar voice carried over. “I’m standing right here,
sweetheart
, if you have something you want to say to me.”

Tail looked like he’d actually swallowed a pool ball for a moment before he guffawed.

He gave me a smack on the back and a low warning. “Good luck with that, man.”

What
did
surprise me about Sin was she knew her way around the table, and she was adept at pocketing balls. On second thought, I shouldn’t have been shocked by that shit at all since she’d practically handed Tail his nuts on a platter.

I found her increasingly attractive. And it wasn’t just her looks, which were total Silver Screen sexy.

She kept the chatter to a minimum. I approved. She wasn’t tarted up—she didn’t need to be. She was effortlessly provocative.

Sin wasn’t showy. She got the job done. And even though she didn’t unnecessarily swish her hips or tilt her ass when she bent over to the table, more than a handful of men groaned loudly every goddamn time it was her turn. Even more of them swore under their breath.

She was honey to all the horny men, and they lapped that shit up. She was exotic in these rough-and-tumble surrounds, a foreign luxury.

As I played against her, I didn’t go easy, as Tail had advised. The woman wanted a game, she’d get one, just not the kind I usually liked to play. Even so, she was on the verge of beating me. I blamed it on my unhealed shoulder, which I strained to make perfectly angled shots, not the fact I was just as distracted by her professional performance as much as the dudes standing around practically drooling.

When I got ready to take another shot, she lounged beside me. She sipped her drink, those glistening red lips puckering just right for a juicy kiss or a long hot blowjob.

My pool cue skipped on the maroon fabric, and the ball banked way off the mark.

“Way to knock it out of the park, College!” Brodie and his brother Boomer had joined the circus ring spectators.