Bounty (73 page)

I
’m not
sure how it is that half an hour ago I was cursing this man, and now here I am with my legs spread and his head in between them, lapping at me as if he’d been lost in the desert for the last decade and my pussy is a magical oasis. And yet, with each draw of his warm tongue along my sensitive folds, every argument and bad feeling I had about him melts away even further. It’s getting harder and harder to even remember what is I was mad about in the first place. But at least he’s keeping to his promise of making it up to me. What he’s doing now is a great start.

“Sebastian…” It feels like his name is being drawn out of me, pulled by the lips that are tugging at my clit, and the tongue that is delving deep down inside of me. The intensity of the situation and everything that he’s doing to me is building to such a height that when it stops suddenly, I almost feel dizzy and disoriented.

“Do you forgive me yet?” His voice is husky, muffled by being down between my legs and close enough that his mouth brushes against my lips as he speaks. If there wasn’t so much of my own heat coming from between my legs, I’m sure I would have felt the hotness of his breath against me.

“Not yet,” I say, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pressing him back against me. He hasn’t finished what he started, and he’s not getting forgiven until he does. Even if I can’t focus enough to remember exactly why I was so mad at him in the first place.

I draw a deep and shuddering breath when his tongue touches me again, this time aided by a couple of fingers he’s managed to slip inside as well. I can feel my pussy squeeze down on them, gripping them tightly as if they were his cock.

Sebastian’s cock. Right. His punishment isn’t over until I get that, too. His tongue isn’t enough. I’m sure whatever he did was bad enough that I can tack on that extra task. I doubt he’ll mind.

I haven’t loosened my grip on his hair as my hand guides his head in quick circles along my swollen nub. The tension in my body is rising as I cast my own head around, trying to focus on something other than Sebastian’s skilled tongue in an effort to fight back my orgasm just a little bit longer.
He still needs to be punished.

Clothes are strewn around my living room as if a tornado had gone through, and the coffee table is still on its side from when he knocked it out of the way so that he could throw me down on my couch. Like last time, my pizza is untouched and sitting on the dining room table.
We’ll need that after.

My gaze returns to the man between my legs, and I almost lose my grip on the orgasm that I’m keeping at bay when I see the muscles of his back twist and turn as my hand continues to guide his head and neck. He has such sharp curves and defined muscles, only some of which are obscured by tattoos and more than one scar.

Sebastian’s fingers curl around and up, stimulating me in a way that I can no longer pretend to ignore. I stop guiding his head, but I don’t let go. Instead, I press his face against me even harder and he takes the hint, pressing more firmly with his tongue and faster with his fingers as I let loose a screaming groan that is so loud I may need to apologize to my neighbors tomorrow.

Before the waves of pleasure have stopped, I’m yanking him by the hair. “I need you to fuck me now, Sebastian.” His body follows the handful of hair that I’m tugging on, but not fast enough. “Now!”

His body hasn’t even finished running along my sweat-soaked skin before I feel the head of his cock press against me with almost pinpoint accuracy. I can tell that he’s already hard, and a moment later, he’s completely inside of me. Fresh explosions of pleasure ripple across my insides. There is a moment where my rational side tries to argue that he isn’t even wearing a condom, but then my lustful and primal side takes over and that thought makes me even more heady with desire for him to continue. A man as careful and calculating as Sebastian doesn’t take chances. I have no doubt he’s clean, and I’m on the pill. Right now, all I want is to feel his hot flesh pumping inside of me, and as usual, he doesn’t disappoint me.

I let my hands leave his head and roam across the muscles of his upper body, feeling them stretch and slide beneath my fingers as he thrusts. The quivering of my own body hasn’t stopped, and it feels like each time his cock slides along the slickened walls of my pussy, it extends my orgasm into one long, unending pleasure tremor.

“I’m not wearing anything,” he pants, face buried against my head and breath starting to come in shortened gasps. He’s close.

“I know, it’s okay. I want to feel you come.” He must like the sound of that, because his hips speed up and he slips one arm under my leg, slinging it up so that he can penetrate me even deeper. I let out a little noise in surprise at that move, but it feels incredible and I wrap my arms tightly around him to let him know not to stop.

Sebastian’s hips are a blur as he presses me down into the soft cushions of my couch with each thrust. Just when I start to worry that I can’t take the sensations any longer, his body stiffens. I feel my pussy clamp down against his cock, which is throbbing now, spraying my insides with a warm coat of his own hot essence. I tighten my grip even more, holding onto the muscles in his back until I feel him finally relax and collapse onto me.

Even once he’s done that, I don’t let go. I don’t want him to slip out, or to roll off. I want to feel his heaviness on top of me, surrounding me as I fall asleep with what I’m sure is the biggest smile my face has worn in a long time.

I
can’t help
but feel conspicuous, walking into Axle’s with Sebastian in his Bash leather a couple of hours later. I’m sure it’s my imagination, but I feel like I’m walking bow-legged and every club member in the bar is watching me, each of them somehow aware of the fucking their president just gave me. I can still feel a tingle between my legs from the stimulation of his cock, and it makes me wish we had stayed in tonight. But Bash is convinced that he’s already waited long enough to deal with this problem and he wants to hit it head-on before Ripper makes a move to expose him.

“Something’s up,” Bash mutters beside me. It’s not my imagination, after all. As we approach the back of the bar where the MC likes to hang out, it’s clear that everyone
is
watching us. All of a sudden, I wish it was for the reason I had originally imagined instead of what it more likely is. Ripper is there, and the grin on his face as he sees Bash approach is not a pleasant one.

“What’s up, boys,” Bash says as he approaches his crew. His voice doesn’t betray any of the range of emotions I know he’s feeling right now. But his eyes are fixed on Ripper specifically, like a lion eyeing a hungry hyena that he expects to attack at any time.

“Right on time,” Ripper says, his voice loud over the sound of the jukebox in the corner playing the Stones. There aren’t a lot of non-club customers in the bar on this Wednesday night, but what few there are have seated themselves as far from the bikers as possible and are making a concentrated effort to not pay any attention to the congregation around the pool table. “I was just telling everyone here about how you had an announcement to make.”

Next to Ripper, leaning against the polished wood of the table, was Snake. He was watching Bash as well, but his expression was hard to read without knowing him. Bash mentioned that he wasn’t sure if Snake was part of all of this, but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything to stop it, either.

I can see the muscles in the side of Bash’s face tighten as he grinds his teeth. A quick glance down at his hands confirms he’s ready to punch the shit out of Ripper. Instead, he pauses for a moment and then says, “Right, sure. I wanted to have a chat with you first, though. In my office.”

The smile on Ripper’s face drops, replaced with one of concern. His eyes flit down to Bash’s hands and he sees the same clenched fists I saw. Likely draws the same conclusion as well, because he looks quickly over to Snake.

“Snake comes, too,” he says quickly.

Some of the other MC members exchange looks, but then everyone seems to return to their own conversations or beers as Snake and Ripper head to the back door that leads to the MC offices.

“Did you want me to stay here?” I ask.

“No, you can come. There are no more secrets between us.”

Given the circumstances, I keep myself from smiling at his response, and just nod instead as I follow the leather-clad men to Bash’s office. As soon as he shuts the door, he let’s go of his emotional restraints.

“What the fuck is this bullshit? What announcement are you talking about?”

Ripper has regained some of his earlier confidence now that he has Snake next to him, and likely at seeing me there as well. Not that I would stop Bash from giving him the pounding he deserves. He smiles again, just as unsettlingly as before.

“Why, the announcement that you’re stepping down from the club. That you’re leaving to pursue other interests, or whatever. I don’t care how the fuck you want to explain it, but I think I was pretty fucking clear on Monday that your time here is done. Unless you want all of those pictures to get passed around the pool table out there?”

“Just what is it that you think you have pictures of? Me in a suit? Is that a club crime, all of a sudden?”

Ripper laughs. “You know that isn’t all it is. I know you have another job. Some corporate bullshit. You’re a fucking sell-out.”

I look over at Bash, but his face has become calm again. I know that’s him reigning in his emotions so as to not give anything away, but I can’t imagine he isn’t worried. I don’t have the same control as he does, so I keep looking at him just in case Ripper can read something in my own face.

“What company? What proof do you have of that?”

“I don’t need proof. I know what I know. Snake here knows all about it, too.”

“You’re gonna need proof if you want to bring this to the club.” Bash’s eyes shift to Snake now. “So you’re in on this, too? You two are working together now? Was your fight the other night all just an act?”

Snake looks over at Ripper, who is nodding at the vice president. He slowly turns back to face Bash. “Ripper showed me the pics and… told me about the company stuff, as well.”

“Where’s the proof? Show me.”

“We can get it, but what’s the point?” Ripper snarls. “Do you really want to go through all of that? Drag yourself through the mud in front of the club? Why don’t we just get this over with now, quietly? Then you can tell the club whatever the fuck you want.”

Before Bash can answer, Snake cuts in. “No. He’s had his chance. Let’s get the proof. A few more days won’t hurt.”

Ripper looks at the VP and cocks his head, as if considering that. Finally he nods with a shrug. “You know what, you’re right, Snake. Bash here has had forty-eight hours. That was already overly generous on my part. If he wants to make this dirty, we can make it dirty. Your time is up. We’ll get the proof and take it directly to the club. You’re finished here. No more trying to turn this club into a bunch of fucking pussies with real jobs. Just ‘cause you’re a fucking sell-out doesn’t mean you can drag the rest of us down with you.”

With that, he yanks open the door. “Come on, Snake. We have some calls to make. I want to get this done as soon as possible.” His pace is fast as he strides down the hall, and I wonder if he’s trying to put as much distance as he can from Bash before he reconsiders using his fists. Snake doesn’t move, though, and Bash is glaring right at him.

Suddenly, my cell phone rings, causing both men to turn to me, as if just remembering that I was here.

“Sorry,” I mutter, fishing it out of my small purse. It’s the office. Why would they be calling me? I’m Sebastian’s assistant and rarely work with anyone else. Normally I would just click to ignore it, but then I remember that Bash doesn’t have his cell with him. They are probably calling me because they can’t reach him, which means it could be important. I step into the doorway and click the button to take the call. Both men have turned back away from me.

“What the fuck is this, Snake?” Bash demands. I really want to hear that conversation.

“Hello?” I say as quietly as possible into my handset.

“Evelyn? It’s Beverly. I’m trying to reach Sebastian.” As I suspected, although my attention is split between the conversation between the men, so I don’t answer right away.

“I tried to call you,” Snake says.

“To tell me that you were about to stab me in the fucking back?” Bash responds angrily. He makes a move toward Snake, and his VP steps back automatically.

“Do you have any idea where he is? It’s an emergency.” Beverly asks in my ear when I don’t say anything. That brings my focus back to my phone.

“An emergency? What’s wrong?” My voice is louder than I meant it to be, and both Bash and Snake turn to look at me.

“We need him in the office right away. Hans has called an emergency board meeting. Everyone is already starting to arrive, but I couldn’t reach Sebastian—”

“What’s going on?” I cut her off.

“I don’t know, but it’s very important.” Her voice suddenly drops to a whisper. “And I don’t think it’s good news, either. Something big is going on—”