Bitter Kind of Love: Prairie Devils MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (29 page)

Coming hard didn't begin to describe how I melted on his cock. Every muscle below my waist tightened up and convulsed, shaking on his cock, turning me into a whimpering, thrashing, clawing mess beneath him.

He fucked right through my orgasm and kept on going, grinding my clit each time he dove deep with his pubic bone. The poor bed beneath us howled.

I'd gotten more than I bargained for with that love bite. Once he was on me, he wouldn't let go, snarling like a wolf as he fucked his way to release.

Stinger came when I was just gliding down from my high. His cock stabbed deep and the earthquake stopped, one second of quiet before the flood.

And the flood – no, the fucking deluge – came a second after his dick swelled. He jerked, releasing the rough bite, throwing his head back and cursing. Hot seed flooded into me, fiery jets pumping up my pussy over and over and over.

“Fuck, baby girl. I'm gonna bust!”

Throwing myself right back over the cliff didn't take any effort at all. I grabbed on tight and pulled him deep, begging to take everything he gave me, feeling him in the deepest heat a man and woman can have.

He rooted himself deep, and my greedy pussy sucked out every last drop he could give me. When it was over, he held it in me for awhile, making slower strokes, fucking through the mingling of our juices.

“Shit, Alice. Everything you show me just keeps getting better.” He leaned in for another long, savage kiss.

I smiled when he pulled away. “I like the slow burn approach. Keeps you interested and here where you belong. Don't want my old man wandering to anybody else.”

That made him growl. He pulled out between my legs and rolled, shifting me on top of him, locking his hands on my back.

“I'm done with sluts forever, baby. You understand that?” The look in his eye was the same feral one I'd seen before he went off to kill the Slingers. “All I want forever's right here in my hands right now. Beautiful. Perfect. And all fucking
mine.
”

Mine.

That word echoed in my head as his lips smothered mine for the thousandth time that night. It was the deepest kiss yet, the one that went above and beyond all the crap we'd waded through to taste the sweetness.

“This is all I'm gonna need for the rest of my life, baby girl. Burn that into your pretty head and stop fussing. I knew the first time we kissed when I was flat on my back and fucked up with poison that I'd never get tired of this. Taking an old lady's as serious to me as wearing my colors. How much more fucking and kissing do we need for me to spell it out to you?”

I smiled as he shoved his mouth on mine again, rougher than before. His cock was already starting to feel harder against my thigh.

“Mm. Maybe just a little more. You know how forgetful I am.”

He blinked – probably wondering if I'd seriously said that – and then broke into a wide shit eating grin. “Baby, reminding you how much I love every inch of this tight little bod's a pleasure, not a chore. Even if you're coming on my dick for the millionth time. And God willing, someday you will be, and I'll be loving you just the same. I'd rather feel your pulse wrapped around my dick than the growl of my own Harley, and that's something I never thought I'd find with any chick.”

His eyes were so wide, so bright, spilling pure love into mine. I lost it. I kissed him first this time, reaching for his dick.

By the time the night was through, I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to even feel the nasty bruise Nero left on my cheek. I'd be too busy with the pleasurable love marks on my lips, neck, and breasts – and that was if I didn't feel the soreness between my legs first.

I didn't expect to wake up so early. Sting was still in a coma after coming four more times, always deep inside me. I reached between my legs and felt the heat he'd left there, one more way he'd marked me as his old lady for good.

The clubhouse was eerily quiet. There were a few times through the night when I swore I'd heard another couple loving their brains out as hard as us – probably Blaze and Saffron.

I smiled, easing myself away from Sting's bulk. He was so warm, snoring peacefully, it was hard to step away. But I had to get up after the buzz in my head.

Throwing on my clothes, I closed the door gently behind me and tip-toed out to the bar, grabbing a pencil and the little notepad Saffron used to organize things at the big parties. I found a clean page and started to sketch.

My fingers moved fast, hurting with the rough little motions, but I ignored it. Sex, safety, and a peaceful side of silence were all I needed to feel my muse purring, guiding my hand, outlining all the badasses on their steel horses beneath a familiar grinning devil.

When the rough blueprint was done, I held it up, nodding to myself. The empty spot on the wall where all the tables sat was the perfect place for a mural.

I was still gawking at my design and imagining it there, heating up the emptiness, when I heard footsteps. I flung the notebook on the countertop and looked up just in time to see Saffron wandering in.

She was in her robe, a few baggy marks under her eyes. She walked past me, straight to the coffee maker, and got the potent smelling brew going.

“How's the cut today?” I said cautiously. God, that coffee smelled good.

“Better.” She turned, flashing me a good morning smile. “Blaze was a total sweetheart last night. I'm feeling a lot better about things today. We'll figure out the wedding crap later. Just don't tell Stinger he was right.”

I grinned, and then lost it just as fast when my next question came. “Any update on Moose?”

Saffron shook her head. “Not since last night. He's critical. Em's supposed to be heading over there with Tank to meet up with his girls and Roller. She says the best folks at the hospital are working on it. I trust her.”

I wasn't sure yet how Moose's tragedy fit into everything. It was glaring, brutal proof that some endings were meant to be bittersweet, the price these men and their old ladies had to pay from time to time for living this crazy life.

My head was still fuzzy with melancholy when the timer for the coffee beeped. Saffron poured two mugs and passed one to me across the counter, noticing the little notebook as she did.

“How'd this get over here?” She snatched it up before I could put my hand down and flipped it over. “Holy shit!”

Instant shame. I started to sweat the same way I did back in school, when everybody else saw my stuff for the first time. The teacher, a real hardass, always took his sweet time mulling things over before awarding me the highest score in the class.

“I got bored. Just a little something I busted out this morning. Couldn't shake it after last night, seeing all the Devils in action...”

“It's...shit, it's beautiful!” Saffron stammered.

I looked up. “You really mean that?”

“Mean it? Girl, I'm going to talk to Blaze when he finally drags himself in here. You need to show him this and get it in the clubhouse.” She sat the notepad down, then folded her arms, looking around the empty room. “This place could use some livening up. The brothers are getting older, getting paired up. Hell, getting married.”

Saffron winked and I laughed.

“What the fuck's so funny?” I turned just in time to see Sting rip the notepad off the counter. His jaw dropped. “Fuck me...you did this, baby?”

“I was going to wait until later for the big reveal. You wanted me to draw you something, right? Well, I did.” Watching Stinger lose himself in my work was the biggest surprise yet.

Without saying anything, he closed the notebook and tucked it underneath his arm, shooting Saffron a protective glare. “I'll get you a new one for the bar. Gotta keep this shit safe 'til things calm down around here.”

Saffron stuck her tongue out. “I'm one step ahead of you, Sting. Already told her I'd show this thing to Blaze after Moose's situation stabilizes.”

“Yeah,” he said, a little more sadness in his voice. “One thing's for sure: soon as he approves it to go up, we'll have something to look forward to again. Besides the wedding, I mean. It's been a rough fucking few months.”

All three of us nodded. Then Stinger grabbed my coffee mug and drained the last dregs in it.

“Hey!” I slapped his arm, turning to Saffron to beg for a refill.

Too late. Stinger lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder again, heading for the bedroom. Saffron laughed as she watched him carry me off, kicking and squealing the whole time.

“A morning fuck's the least I can do, baby. And not just because I'm hot for getting between your legs again myself.”

“What're you talking about?” I whispered, feeling the familiar heat running through me as I ran my hands across his bare tattooed chest.

“You lit a match in a dark fucking hour with this badass piece of paper. Reason one million I'm going out later today to see about your jacket, and then we're having my brand tattooed on your sweet ass.” He grinned, kicking the door shut behind him and setting me down. “Better start thinking about where the hell you want it if it's not gonna be
on
your ass for real.”

I threw myself at him, slapping his chest. Big mistake. But it was also the best goddamned one I'd made for the new day when he pulled me in, ripped off my clothes, and slammed me down on the bed.

One Week Later

The tension was unholy.

Em was at my left side next to Tank, and Sting on my right, and they were both so tightly wound I felt like the pressure was going to break my bones. We stood just outside the ICU, waiting to see Moose, who'd finally regained consciousness after a week long battle.

All the other brothers plus Saffron were behind me. Everybody except Roller, who Blaze kept next to the family as a constant guard. Thank God there wasn't any sign yet we needed it.

My old man was tight-lipped as ever about club business. But it
seemed
the Slingers threat was over, and all the men who'd caused so much mayhem for me and the club were nothing but charred ash.

The big metal doors swung open. My heart dumped adrenaline. A nurse whispered something into Em's ear, and then waved us all forward.

I squeezed Stinger's hand tight as we went into the pale white room. Moose's big body was propped up in the blue and white bed, his beefy arms at his sides, a band going around his head to hold in the gauze or whatever the hell they'd given him to encourage healing.

“You all here to gawk at me like I'm a fucking Cyclops, or what?”

“Moose...” His old lady Connie darted up, a disapproving look on her face, one that also feared getting in the way of her old man's suffering.

Sting pulled his hand away from mine and stepped forward with Blaze. Across the room, Moose's daughter Becky nudged her face into Roller's shoulder, trying not to cry. The younger brother looked up, surprised, folding a firm arm around her.

“No, brother,” Blaze said. “If I wanted to see a fucking freak, I'd go dig up all the motherfuckers we've put down over the years. And with your help, we dug a few more graves for the trash. I would've called church for this, but seeing how you're cooped up in here, I thought a family affair was more appropriate. Stinger?”

The two men locked eyes. I watched Sting reach into a little black box and pull out a patch made by the same place that did the leather jacket sitting heavy on my shoulders. That PROPERTY OF STINGER patch felt like cool steel on my back, and I had a feeling its weight a lot more as time ticked by.

The whole damned world had gotten heavier around these men.

“This is yours, brother. This club doesn't have a patch to recognize a lifetime of half the shit you've done. But you earned this. You earned it with your life.”

He leaned down, giving Moose a manly hug after he laid the patch out next to him on the stand. BLOOD SACRIFICE, it read, something I'd only seen on Tank's cut as the only other guy wounded for the MC.

“I'll have Em's mom take care of it for you, bro. I'm not gonna see you in your cut again 'til that things sewn where it belongs.”

As a tailor, Emma's mother did all the patches and modifications for the club. She was hard at work right now on Saffron's wedding stuff, changing up an old dress that belonged to her grandmother. I wondered how it was going to go with those bitch heels she'd picked the day we got captured.

“You all right, brother?” Stinger asked, pulling away and giving Moose a heavy look.

Moose gazed out his one good eye at all of us, running down the line, from Blaze to Sting to everybody else. When he got to me, the sadness hit, an avalanche that made me wonder if one day I'd be looking at my man in a bed like this, torn up in ways I could barely imagine.

No fucking way,
I thought.
He's too hard, too lucky. And if somehow his luck deserts him one day, I'll be there, just like Connie.

I haven't figured everything out about being an old lady yet, but I know half the job is being a rock. I'm going to be the best damned stone Stinger's ever had.

“I'm good,” Moose said slowly. “Just quit looking at me.”

Awkward. Everybody turned their eyes away, except for Connie and Becky, staring at their husband, their father, in horror.

“Look, this club's suffered far worse shit than me losing a fucking eye,” he said finally. “Let's stop dwelling on it and get on with our lives. Another week or two and I'll be outta this place, and then I'm gonna go back to work. Tax prep's coming up for all the club's business, and I'm gonna be there, one eye or none.”

Several brothers looked up hopefully. Sting slapped him on the shoulder and smiled. Blaze gave an approving nod.

“Prez promised us brighter days not so long ago, right? Last thing I'm gonna do is let any fucking darkness around me blot out the sun we all deserve. You brothers with your old ladies, your girls...” He paused, reaching for Connie's hand and giving it a squeeze, forcing the tears from her eyes.

“You hold 'em fucking tight, and I'll do the same. You guys who haven't claimed a girl yet – keep on drinking. Keep on fucking. Keep on being free.” He stopped, clearing his throat to cover up the way Connie whimpered. “Now, like I said, quit gawking at my half-blind ass. Keep my bike tuned up for me when I get home. We got ourselves a wedding in a few weeks, and I'm gonna be there. Don't give a shit if I show up stumbling around like a drunken pirate.”