misunderstoodebook (35 page)

His gaze swept her body, fastening on her slim calves. They’d feel so fucking good wrapped around his waist.

Bailey’s nostrils flared. “Come in,” she whispered, licking her lips and staring at his mouth.

Sarcasm was his best defense and he opened his mouth to speak, but she outmaneuvered him and enclosed her slender fingers around his hand and tugged. He felt like a giant next to her, so he remained right where he was, his observation granting him another reason to leave. He needed a woman the size of Kendall. A beautiful, fine chick who—

Bailey drew in a deep breath. “We’ve talked about everything over the past three months. You even told me your real name,” she said in a rush, her fingers tightening on him.

He pulled his hand free of hers and narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean, girl?”

Her color deepened and she looked at her toes, the nails painted orange. She ducked next to him and glanced up and down the hallway. It was as empty as it had been when he’d first arrived.

She stepped back in front of him and untied her robe, allowing it to fall open to reveal her naked body. Her berry colored nipples greeted him along with the landing strip she’d fashioned from her pussy hair.

He swept her body with a scowl. Fuck. How’d they go from his surprising her with a visit to her stripping in front of him and damn near in the fucking hallway.

Fucking little bitch.

“You still a virgin?” It was about time his fucking brain started working. He needed to close her robe up and hide her body from his dick.

She nodded, hesitant, and the rush of pink over her body fascinated him. Her gaze flickered from his mouth to his dick and her eyes widened. He reached out to tie the sash back, but, before he could, she caught his wrist and laid his palm against her chest. She was nervous and scared. Her heartbeat was thrumming through her in a fast rhythm. She slid his hand further down to her flat belly, her gaze fastened to his, the warmth of her soft skin beneath his fingertips stripping away some of his sanity.

Guiding his hand lower, to her pussy, she dropped her fingers leaving it up to him on his next move. But Mortician was just a fucking man and his dick would never forgive him if he let his conscience fuck up getting inside of Bailey.

He cupped her pussy and pushed her back, stepping into her apartment and slamming the door shut behind him. He pressed the heel of his hand against her clit and she sucked in a breath. He lifted her in his other arm, still massaging her cunt, and planted his mouth over hers, her sweetness exploding in his brain, the taste of her tongue in his mouth pushing a little pre-cum from his cock.

He didn’t know exactly where he was going, but her condo wasn’t big, so he found her bedroom at the first door he tried. It was lavender and white, a real girl’s room. Even the bed looked female, if that shit made any sense, with ruffly bedclothes and a brass headboard and footboard. Not to mention, it looked small, almost too small for him to be comfortable in it.

Their mouths tearing into each other, he settled her onto the bed and she kneeled in front of him while he still stood, leaning down to kiss her. She shrugged out of her robe.

Sssscccrrrreeeeccccchhhhh. Brought the fuck to his senses.

They stared at one another and he could smell the juices dripping from her pussy. Her nipples tempted him like two pieces of candy. Rocking back on her heels, she scooted up higher on her bed, sliding the covers down with her feet, then leaning back and allowing her legs to fall open. Her pussy greeted him like a budding flower.

“Bailey,” he said on a groan.

She arched her back and fingered her clit. “I-I know it’ll only be today with us,” she whispered, grinding
against her fingers. “I promise no one will ever find out
, especially my dad, and I won’t…I won’t make a pest of myself.”

Free pussy, bro.
That didn’t need pointing out. The evidence was there in her glistening juices, clinging to her delicate lips and slicking her fingers. Still, he understood his dick’s point of view, wanting to be sure his brain understood the dynamics.

Not any free pussy, though.
Bailey’s.

He got free pussy all the time and
Bailey’s
pussy wasn’t exactly free. It had a price tag that read fucking = marriage. So that was far from fucking
free
.

You have
2
0Gs on the line, too, Mort.

Mortician scowled at the reason entering his brain. More importantly at the figure flashing in big, red fucking numbers. Either 5Gs a piece
from
Prez, John Boy, Val, and Digger. Or 5Gs
to
each of them and fuck—

Shut the fuck up,
his cock ordered, interrupting his stream of curses.

Okay, having his dick and his brain battle it out was some freaky shit.

His phone started peeling and he jerked it out of his pocket, cursing when he saw the name on the screen. John Boy. They’d gone three days without getting shit rolling. Another few minutes wouldn’t fucking hurt.

He shouldn’t have come to Bailey. This was the quickest way…the quickest way to saddle himself with a bitch who’d want normalcy. He wasn’t pulling that shit from his ass, either. He’d had long conversations with her, so he
knew
what the fuck she wanted.

Unaware he’d been talking himself out of fucking her as she played with her pussy, her eyes slipped closed and a whimper escaped her.

Maybe, one quick swipe of his tongue over her clit. What would a taste of her pretty little pussy hurt? Not a fucking thing. Just as she shook and made a small noise that was the sexiest sound he’d ever heard, he climbed into her bed, spread her legs wider and buried his face against her juicy cunt. He licked her swollen clit, smelled her desire and closed his eyes, her satiny heat like heaven.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, pushing the hood of her clit back and lapping at the most sensitive part of her.

“Oh God,” she moaned, pulling at his dreads but then pushing and grinding against his mouth. He nipped her clit, suckled, and licked, before covering her slit with his mouth and feasting on her pussy until she came against his lips and tongue.

Until his dick laughed at his conscience.

His cock hurting, he unzipped his pants and pulled it out, not bothering to remove his clothes. He needed to fuck Bailey. Nothing else mattered. Not even the fucking phone ringing again and annoying the fuck out of him.

Her eyes widened briefly when she saw his dick, but Mortician didn’t let her ponder his size too long. After he snatched his phone out of his pocket and turned it off, he guided his cock to her entrance and slid partially into her. She was small, choke holding his dick and he wasn’t even buried in her yet.

He pushed a little further and she blinked, lifting her hips and inviting him into her deeper. He hit her virginal barrier and grunted.

“Lucas?” she asked, her tone scared but trusting.

He smiled down at her. “It’s okay, baby. This gonna hurt. Okay?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Closing his eyes because he didn’t want to feel like such a low motherfucker when he stared into her innocent gaze, he surged into her and stilled at her cry of pain. Fuck, but her pussy was tight, clamping around his dick.

Tears rolled down her cheeks but if he didn’t move in a few seconds, he was going to fucking die. All her heat and slippery wetness curled his toes.

While he kept still, she lifted her hips and drew up her knees.

“Keep fucking still,” he growled, staring into her pain-filled, watery green-brown eyes. Her thighs trembled. “Open your legs wider, Bailey. It’ll spread your pussy and make you feel better.”

Her nails bit into his forearms and more tears slipped down her cheeks. She widened her legs in slow degrees, wincing with her movements. Mortician gritted his teeth, somehow managing not to come in her while she tortured him. Every time she moved to spread herself, her pussy clenched around his dick and his balls grew hotter. If she kept it up, the motherfuckers were going to burst into flames and then they’d be fucked.

Frustrated, he gripped her knees and widened her legs. If he came like this, he’d be madder than fuck. He’d never dropped his load without a few pumps.

“It still hurts,” she whimpered.

He gnashed his teeth together. “You want me to stop?”

Tears glistened in her eyes and she blinked, sniffling. “Will it hurt you?”

Like a motherfucker.

“I-I mean will you be mad at me?”

She pulsed and throbbed around him, and fuck,
moved
again.

Heat and pressure released from his tight balls and cum exploded into her belly. He trembled and shook, moaning her name, his dick jerking inside of her.

Breathing heavy, he rested his chin on her head. Fuck. Him. He’d came. He’d fucking
came. Without a proper fuck. Without a condom.

Bailey squirmed beneath him and he pulled out of her, getting to his feet and staring at her, splayed before him, come and blood on her thighs and leaking from her. He swallowed. He was a pussy connoisseur and hers was the prettiest he’d ever seen.

“I didn’t do it right, did I?”

“No right and wrong in this, Bailey,” he told her, tucking himself back into his pants, feeling lower than dirt because she looked so vulnerable and open. He hadn’t even gotten undressed. Just pulled his dick out and stuck it in her.

Closing her legs, she winced and grimaced, and he covered his face with his hands. Fuck. He’d never had a virgin, should never have had
her, a
nd would never take her again.

“When’s your period?” he asked her bluntly. “Or are you on the pill?”

He could only hope. She’d wanted his dick. She had to have—

“No. I’m not on the pill.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “And your period?”

“About thirteen days away. Give or take a couple days,” she added. She was staring at him, waiting for him to say or do something.

Whatever it was, she’d be waiting the rest of her days. He had
nothing
he wanted to give to her.

He turned on his heel to leave, but heard her rustling around in bed. He told his legs to keep moving, but his heart—no, brain—made him pause and turn around. She looked lost and forlorn.

“You okay?” he asked, despite his best intentions to just leave and sweat it out until he called her in eleven days to check on Aunt Flo and keeping checking for the arrival of that bitch until Bailey told him what he wanted to hear. And
I’m pregnant
certainly wasn’t it.

He felt around for his cigarettes and lit one up. “You in pain or anything?” He touched his phone as he saved his cigarettes and pulled it out to turn it back on.

When Bailey remained silent, Mortician looked up, startled to find her not saying anything. Just looking at him.

Where the fuck had
his
Bailey gone? She was a fucking chatterbox. The stories she’d told him about K-P. Of course, Mortician couldn’t rub it in the man’s face because he’d rat himself out and let in on the fact that he’d been keeping in contact with Bailey.

Mortician cleared his throat and dragged on his cigarette. “Are you? In pain?”

“A little,” she mumbled, flushing.

Guilt rammed him and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. “Go take a hot bath. Make your pussy feel better.”

She nodded and lowered her lashes. “Okay.”

“I got to get going, girl.”

Her nostrils flared and he knew she was about to cry again. As if he needed more fucking guilt.

“You promised you wouldn’t sweat my dick,” he said in a hard voice. He had to say
something
, although he knew that was cold-blooded. Bailey trusted him and he’d just abused the fuck out of it.

“I won’t,” she said in a soft, miserable voice. She braced a smile. “You can get going and I’ll see you around.”

He slanted a glance at her, his insides crumpling at the rejection in her eyes. He puffed on his cigarette and stepped closer to her bed. “Today, Bailey. Okay? I don’t want you hating me because you trusted me to get in your pussy first and then I just left after it was over.” He stuck his cigarette in his mouth and began removing his clothes. “Tomorrow,” he said around the butt, “we pretend this never happened. Deal?”

Her tender adoration slipped past his hardness. He swore their day together, the way she looked at him, didn’t change one thing.

Even his dick twitched in amusement at that outright lie, but Mortician gamely ignored it.

Chapter 24

Stopping long enough to fill his gas tank and call Mortician, K-P Val, Digger, and Stretch, Johnnie’s return to Hortensia came in record time. Not knowing if the attack was club wide, he’d ordered a lockdown. Members had to come in and, if they had families, bring them with them to remain under the blanket of the club’s protection. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to reach Mortician or K-P. It was out of character for either of them not to answer, but K-P had been missing for hours. His absence was beginning to concern Johnnie
greatly.

Johnnie rolled to a stop at the gate, gazing into the crowded parking area. Sweat beaded Stretch’s pasty white skin, as if he’d seen a ghost. Maybe, he was scared shitless since this was the first lockdown he’d ever be involved in. “Any word from Mortician?”

Stretch shook his head, eyeballing every direction. “No.”

“K-P?”

There’d been attacks on Val and his and Christopher’s houses.
Something
had happened to Logan, so it was logical that the Torpedoes would’ve gone after as many of the Dwellers as possible. So…Mortician…K-P.

Fuck.

Mortician was as close as a brother to Johnnie and he’d known K-P since he was a ten-year-old boy. When the man had just been a Probate and not the irritating, onion-eating, clueless-about-his-daughter officer.

“Where’s Dinah and Little Man?”

Clutching the gate he stood next to, Stretch shrugged. “At the house.” He attempted to appear nonchalant but, in reality, he looked like he’d piss his pants.

Johnnie glanced over his shoulder and saw a line of bikes forming behind him. He was holding passage up. “Did you fucks not understand me when I said lockdown? And, if any people belong in the clubhouse, it’s Outlaw’s fucking son and mother-in-law. Get them the fuck here.
Now.
”