Where Souls Spoil (39 page)

“Never fucked her. No skin off my nose,” Wyatt says with a shrug of his shoulders.

“All right, calm down, bro. I was just kidding. Like I eat pussy,” Diesel says with a dramatic eye roll and wave of his hand. The room—all except for me—erupts in laughter. Shit ain’t funny, but I let my brothers have their fun at my expense.

“This mean you’re wifed-up now?” Rink asks. Squinting my eyes, I look down at him in confusion.

“Wife what? What the fuck are you babbling about, prospect?” I say. Bear and Dunce find this particularly funny and are slapping their knees and throwing their heads back.

“Wifed-up. You know, when you take an Old Lady,” he clarifies, and his cheeks redden.

“Yeah, you wifed-up, man?” Wyatt asks. As the club’s vice president, my relationship status is something he likes to know about. To put it in his own words, he “Doesn’t give a shit you you fuck, but if you’re fucking the same bitch every night and sleeping next to her, it’s club business, because your ass is club property.”

“Working on it,” I say honestly. I ain’t got shit to hide when it comes to Nic. She’s good people, the club likes her, and she knows the score.

The squeaking of a door silences the entire room. Looking around, I find Trigger in the hallway. He’s wearing blue plaid boxers and that’s it. His hair is all fucked up, and he’s wiping his nostrils. Fuck. I wonder how much coke he did.

“Who ya got in there, man?” Fish asks. He leans back in his chair and eyes Trigger as he plops down in the Lay-Z Boy at the other end of the coffee table. Trigger doesn’t say anything. He just leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and sets his face in his hands. The rest of the guys haven’t picked up on it yet, but I have. My heart stops for a good long time, so long that I think it might not actually start again, and my veins all feel like they’re shriveling up the longer I stare at Trigger.

“You fucking bastard,” I say, shaking my head. Diesel and Bear look at me curiously. Wyatt just shakes his head slowly with the realization of what Trigger’s done. One by one, my brothers and the prospects start to figure out why I’m so mad and Trigger looks so fucked up. Still, Trigger doesn’t say anything right away.

He lifts his head and stares at me with reddened, pained eyes. Shaking his head back and forth he says, “I let her go.”

Once more, a door creaks, and out steps Princess into the hallway. Her eyes are bright red and her hair looks like a hornet’s nest—like somebody was handling her roughly. She walks slowly into the room. Trigger takes a hit from the joint he had Rink roll and light, and he refuses to look at her. His entire body has tensed the fuck up since she walked in, but his eyes stay trained on the coffee table.

“Duke’s going to take you home,” Trigger says in a bored tone. Still, he doesn’t look at her. My eyes fall closed for barely a second before I look from Princess to Trigger and back again. What a fucking asshole. Trigger’s always had some kind of dysfunction in his brain that makes him a bastard, but this takes the cake. Of all people to fuck with like this, he really messed up. Sure, I get it—he had to do something to get her to understand it wouldn’t work between the two of them—but this is above and beyond. Looking at him and narrowing my eyes, I bite my tongue from saying all the shit I want to say. But what’s done is done and there’s a code. He’s my brother, and I’m not going to call him out in front of everybody in the room.

“Just fucking do it, or she’s going to have to take a cab,” Trigger says. He turns to me and blows out the smoke from the joint he’s got.

Standing, I point a finger at him and say, “We’re going to fucking deal with this later.” Fuck. I hate this shit. I called it way back when she rode on the back of his bike for the first time. He just told her she’d be riding with him, and that was all there was to it. Technically, it should have been Grady taking her, since he’s our Sergeant at Arms and the one responsible for that kind of shit. But no, Trigger didn’t even give Grady a chance to get off his bike before that fucker was at the van, offering Princess his hand and acting like he’s some charming fuck that he ain’t. Well, she knows that now.

I cross the room and place my hand on her back and lead her out of the house, saying, “Come on, Princess.”

I give her my helmet and climb onto my bike then help her get on before I peel the fuck out of there. She’s hurt, so of course she calls me on my shit and doesn’t let me off the hook for nothing. I slip and tell her that she’s just like her mother—and she is—but it’s not my place to drop that bomb. She’s got enough going on right now. She holds on, but barely enough to be safe. I don’t say anything though. I can feel the slight jerking of her body as she withholds her sobs. Crying a-fucking-gain. With every slight movement, a part of me breaks into a fuck ton of pieces. Over the last few months that she’s been here, Princess has become one of us, even if Grady can’t accept that. She’s family in more ways than one, and Trigger just fucked with my family.

Chapter 15

Back at the
house, I try to talk to her again, but she isn’t up for conversation. I fight the urge to walk her into the house and make sure Ruby and Jim don’t catch her. She looks fucked all right, and she’s going through the front door. There are three other entrances better suited for sneaking into that house, but she’s obviously not even thinking about that. Maybe she wants to get caught. Either way, I let it go and get back on my bike with my helmet—that’s now toast thanks to Princess dropping it—on my head, and ride slowly back to Nic’s house. Princess can’t have known she was going to be treated like a filthy whore when she got on Trigger’s bike. She can’t have known how entirely fucked her night would turn. My mind wanders back to Nic. She was barely nineteen when she started hanging with the club. Her dad had been inside for about three years at that point, and she’d spent two of those years trying to take care of her brother on her own after she stopped letting Ruby and Jim help her out. She’s always been a stubborn thing, and we let her do it. We blew it—every single one of us.

God, she was so fucking young. She’s still young. Did she know that first party what it meant to be a Lost Girl? Did she have any goddamn idea that she’d become pussy with legs? The thought of Nic feeling as used as Princess does right now sends a shiver up my spine and makes my gut feel like lead. I don’t want either of those chicks to feel like that ever again, but there’s nothing I can really do about Princess until she gives up on this fantasy of being with Trigger. But Nic? I got that covered.

I cut my bike down the street and walk her the rest of the way. I don’t want Jeremy to hear me coming if he’s out and about. I want to know if he took my warning seriously. If he didn’t, I’m going to be in for a much longer night. And I still haven’t eaten. Fuck. I need food. I pull her up into the driveway and toss my helmet to the side. I’ll have to see about getting a new one tomorrow.

The house is silent, and all of the lights are off. It’s a welcome change from what I came home to earlier. The front door is unlocked when I walk in, and I say a quiet thank you to Nic, even though I know she can’t hear me, and lock the doors behind me. Walking down the hall to her bedroom, I slowly open the door and find myself met by near total darkness. A window on the side of the house streams a little yellow light in from the street lights outside. Still, I can’t really see where anything is, and I’m trying not to wake her up. But I’m not quiet enough.

The room brightens just slightly by the click of a table lamp. Straight ahead, Nic’s sitting up in her king-sized bed, the covers pulled up to her waist and her hair a total mess. She lets out a big yawn and smacks her lips, blinking at the light. A smile overtakes my face at the sight. Suddenly, I’m not so hungry for food anymore.

“You’re back,” she says, like she wasn’t expecting it. Maybe she wasn’t. From the look on her face, she wasn’t expecting me. I click the door shut behind me and step into the room. Kicking my boots off and then my socks. I take my cut off and set it on the chest at the foot of the bed. Nic watches as I pull my tee shirt off over my head and then start working on my belt buckle.

“I said I’d be back, baby,” I say quietly. Her eyes dart down to my belt buckle then up to my face again. She’s not protesting or even complaining about me waking her up. She’s just quiet and watchful. As much as I like her fiesty side, I’m starting to really like this side that I didn’t know existed. Sliding my jeans down to the floor, I kick them out of the way and walk to Nic’s side of the bed. Her neck cranes back to look up at me. I sit down on the side of the bed and twist my torso to face her. Placing my hands on either side of her legs, I search her eyes for something that tells me I’m not making a total fucking jackass out of myself right now. She’s so guarded that I can’t really make anything out for sure.

“When I say I’m coming back, that means I’m coming back. When I tell you that you’re my girl that means you’re my fucking girl. When I call you my Old Lady, don’t question it. Got it?” She looks away for a moment then brings her face back up to mine.

“I don’t believe you,” she says. Her honesty practically crushes me, and I have to fight to keep myself upright. I just want to sink into the mattress and call it a fucking day. I don’t know what I can do to show her that I’m serious. “One day, you won’t be back.”

“Stop worrying about one day. Just enjoy today. None of us knows what’s going to happen tomorrow,” I say and lean in. My beard brushes the side of her face as I trail soft kisses down from her temple to her jaw. She doesn’t move or sigh or do any of that girly shit that other chicks do when I make a move on them. No, not Nic. She just sits there and lets me do my thing, but she gives me nothing to go on.

“That doesn’t work for me,” she says. “You’ve been through at least a hundred women. I’ve seen it. What makes this so different?” she asks in a tone that sounds so defeated and so fucking sad that it’s like a shovel to my abdomen.

“You’re different,” I say. “You called me a cocksucker. Not that I advise you try it again, but you did it. You’re tough as hell, and you don’t even know it.” I don’t say the thing I want to say—that all of those women were really fucking easy, and really fucking stupid. They all like the idea of being an Old Lady, but none of them were cut out for it. It takes a special kind of woman to put up with the club and its members. Nic doesn’t know it yet, but she’s got it. She’s got that fire and that backbone that an Old Lady needs. She’s loyal and protective, and she can be mean as all fucking hell. Makes sense since she was raised in this life, but with all the shit she’s seen, she’s damaged as fuck. And the more fucked up I realize she is—the more broken she shows herself to be—the more I want to glue her back together.

“But I’m not,” she says.

But she is.

Talking isn’t working out so well for me, so instead I decide to just move on. My bones ache with the need to be inside her. I need to show her in the only way I think she’ll understand that I care about her and I’m going to care about her in a few weeks, and a few months, and even years down the line. I’m going to show her that this is forever.

I bring one hand up and cup her face. Her green eyes stare back at me and then close. I move in, pressing my lips against hers. She’s so fucking soft in a million ways, but not her bottom lip. She’s always chewing on the damn thing, and it shows with the bits of cracked skin on the sides. She responds, moving her lips against mine and pulling me in closer.

Nic slides down the bed, letting me crawl on top of her and cover her body with my own. This feels right in a million fucking ways I can’t explain. She reaches down for my dick, but I bring her hand back up above her head. I want to take things slow with her, but if she starts pulling on my dick, shit’s gonna happen really fast. As it is, I’m not very used to going slow. Normally I’m all about getting my orgasm going as fast as I fucking can, but this isn’t about me. This is about showing Nic that she’s more than a good fuck. She’s everything.

A few minutes pass of us kissing, so I start sliding my body up and down hers to create friction. My dick gets so hard I worry I’m gonna blow a load right here, and I’m not even inside her yet. It doesn’t matter that I had her twice this morning.

Taking a few deep breaths, I force myself to calm down and be more patient. I want her to enjoy this in every way possible, and that’s not going to happen if I keep thinking about myself and my dick. She lets out a soft moan when I drag my dick over her pussy. She places a soft kiss on my forehead, and it’s so fucking sweet. I don’t think she can know what her being sweet does to me. Looking up and locking eyes with her, I place a gentle kiss on her lips and then pull back.

“You don’t believe me, but I’m going to show you that this is different,” I whisper. Pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth, she nods and keeps her eyes focused on mine.

The mood in the room shifts, and we’re moving impossibly slow. It’s like fucking torture when I take her night shirt off, inch by inch, kissing my way up her flat belly and then her tits, up her collarbone and then to her neck. But as hard as I am, I wouldn’t trade this moment for any fucking thing on the planet.

No more clubhouse fucks. If I want to show Nic that I’m serious, I can’t be fucking her like she’s some whore in a bed I’ve taken countless women to. This right here is the way it should be, but it should be in our house, in the bed we share every night. And if I have my way, that’s how it’s going to be.

Achingly slowly, I slide down her body and remove her panties, which are already damp. Diesel’s comment from earlier flies through my brain, and, for a brief moment, I’m fucked in the head. Thinking about Diesel licking her pussy just plain pisses me the fuck off. She’s just a piece of ass to him, and that ain’t right. Nic deserves better. She definitely deserves better than me, but I’m a selfish prick and I want to keep her for myself. Looking up at her, I see that she’s propped her head up so she can watch me between her legs.

“I’m going to make you forget that anybody else has been here,” I say. Her eyes heat, her chest rises, and she sucks in a deep breath. I start by parting her legs. She bends her knees and lets her legs lean outward, giving me ample room. Her pussy is waxed as fuck—there’s not a hair in sight.

My tongue sneaks out and drags itself up her slit. Her body jerks, and she shoves her pussy into my face. She’s a pushy girl, and I fucking love it. I place soft kisses on her outer lips then drag my tongue over her clit. Her entire body tenses when I wrap my lips around her clit and suck down on it. Her hands fly to my head and hold onto my hair as I change it up between sucking and licking. She mewls, and gasps, and even whimpers. I drag my index finger along her opening and look up just as I slide my finger into her hot, wet pussy. Her entire body covers in goose bumps, and a shiver runs up her spine. The sight is absolutely incredible. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. She’s so fucking connected to everything I’m doing. Every touch, whether it’s feather light or rough, she responds like nothing I’ve ever seen, but maybe that’s because I’ve never been like this before. Nobody else was ever worth the effort but her.

Her pussy contracts around my finger, and I pull out just enough to slide a second one in. She’s turning into a wild beast with the sounds she’s making and the way she’s holding onto my hair. She’s so close, too close, so I pull back and crawl up her body. She’s a panting, sweaty mess, and I love it. On my way up, I wrap my mouth around each one of her nipples, one after the other, and revel in the way she squirms beneath me. Reaching down, she gives my boxers a tug. I prop myself up on my arms and let her wiggle them down. When she gets them to my knees, I kick them off and lean back over her. She’s watching me with intent eyes as I use my elbow to keep my heavy frame from crushing her light one. My other hand drags itself up and down her side lightly.

Slowly, I move up and rest my dick on top of her pussy. She wiggles beneath me, but I don’t give in to her just yet. Her hooded eyes peer up at mine, and she leans up, placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth. With my dick in my hand, I guide myself to her entrance and have to bite my tongue to keep from ramming into her. She’s so hot and tight and so fucking perfect. Her pussy fits my dick like a goddamn glove, and without a rubber, I can feel everything. Nope, definitely not going back to wrapping it. When I trust myself to move and not come like a fucking kid, I slide the rest of the way inside her hot, wet heat.

I stare down at her, and she’s looking up at me, and nothing about this moment is wrong. She drags her hand down my back and cups my ass, and it’s all the incentive I need. I pull out a few inches and then slowly drag myself back in. Repeating the motion a few more times, I keep my weight off her by using my elbow and, with my other hand, I reach down and make slow, deliberate circles over her swollen clit. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment before she opens them again. When slow isn’t enough and she needs more, I pick up the pace and create a rhythm that makes me sweat. Small droplets fall onto her chest and face, but she just wipes them away, mingling them with her own sweat. I find myself grunting, getting closer, and before I know it, I’m fighting a losing battle against coming. It’s too soon, but my body doesn’t give a fuck what I think. Reaching up, Nic grabs my beard and smiles at me through flushed cheeks, and parted lips, and wide eyes.

“Let go, Josh,” she says, using my real name for the first time in years. That connection we’re creating is too fucking much, and my entire body gets hot—too fucking hot—and my eyes roll back in my head as I shove my dick as far as it can go into her beautiful fucking pussy and just let it go. I bring myself closer to her by bringing my arm underneath her and holding onto her shoulder so I don’t slide out before I want to and bury my face in her neck. Her body shivers with the contact, but it’s not what I want. I start making circles on her clit again. In a matter of moments, she’s all breathless and moaning into my ear. A half a second before she comes, she bites my ear and whispers, “Fuck yes.” Then she spirals into her own orgasm, body shivering and shaking, and hands clawing at my skin. All I can think is that I did this. I made this happen for her.

And she used my real name.

When we come down, I pull out slowly and kiss her neck. When I draw back, I realize she’s looking at me in horror. My stomach lurches, unsure what caused this sudden change of mood. Her eyes are focused on my softening dick, and it’s then that I realize what’s fucking her up.

“I can get Plan B,” she says. She closes her eyes, curses to herself, and scrubs her face. “Shit.”