Read Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC Book 5) Online

Authors: Layla Wolfe

Tags: #romance, #motorcycle

Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC Book 5) (21 page)

He rubbed his face with his hand. “Ah. Jeez. I don’t know what to fucking say, Bee. I can say it must have been hard on you, but I’m sure that’s an understatement.”

I sighed heavily. “They found a good family for him. I didn’t even name him. I knew I was being booted and I could have kept him, but I wanted to start a whole new life where I could find some other kind of faith. My little tiny boy was perfect, though. It gives me hope that I might be able to do it again. Oh! I meant—not that I meant—I’m sure you’re completely over having kids. At your age—” It seemed like the more I blathered on, the deeper I put my foot into it.

Sax chuckled and drew me to him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “Never mind. I know what you’re trying to say.” He paused long enough to scratch my skull through my thick cap of curls. “You think I’m too old.”


No!
” I pulled back as far as he’d let me and caressed his face. The few lines around his mouth only added to the depth of his character, as far as I was concerned. The twenty years he had on me just gave him an air of authority, of potent power. No matter what I might do, I’d always know that Sax had done it before me. He could give me advice, knowledge, and power of my own. “I meant that you’re such a free spirit. I’m sure you don’t look forward to having any kids of your own.”

“I’m not
that
free. I just promised you I’d give up those other subs if you told me why you left the convent.”

I looked at the floor. That was true, he had. Was this really happening? Did he intend to follow through on it? I was too petrified to push for more. I’d always told myself that was why Baldy had run—I had pushed him to far too soon. But in reality, Baldy was just a runner—another “free spirit.” Meekly I asked, “What do you plan to do?”

Taking my chin in his fingers, he tilted my face so I had no choice but to look at him. “I plan to honor my word, Bee. I hardly need those subs if I’m not going to be traveling the interstates, now, do I? Besides. I’ve got all the sub I want standing right here.”

He pulled out something from his cut pocket, and before I knew it, a piece of cool, soft leather was around my neck. I touched it.
My collar!
He was putting it on me willingly now, and all because I’d told him the story of the abbey. I had never thought telling a simple story would be so rewarding.

Was I showing him I trusted him? I did. I trusted him not to tell my story to anyone else. I had been mortified enough at the convent. I had not been able to protest when they’d pointed all kinds of moral fingers at me. I was humiliated day and night, living with poverty-riddled girls who couldn’t wait to pop their babies so they could get back to their partying. It had been the darkest year of my life, another reason I chose to buy a nursery. I wanted the living, the growing, the green life surrounding me. I wanted plants that would sprout and multiply, not die and vanish.

Tears stung my eyes as he fastened my collar. “Zane,” I breathed. “I’m so honored to be given this gift. I know it’s costing you a great deal.”

He shrugged, standing back to look at his handiwork. “It seems like no effort at all with you. Beatrix. I’m crazy about you, little sister. Will you kneel at my feet and take this symbol of my ownership to wear as a sign to us and those we meet on our journey?”

Like a dog going down for a bone, I practically flung myself to my knees, right there on his deck. You’d think in such a position I would feel more subservient, weaker than ever. But I’d never felt as powerful as when I looked up at my Dom. I completely made up my words, maybe based upon my scant experience with Roscoe Flantz. What mattered was my passion. It didn’t need to be poetry. “I kneel before you, Master, and I offer myself to you, bound by the chains that contain my soul. Today my life begins.” Unzipping my dress at the back, I peeled it off, over my sexy bra, down to my waist. “I kneel before you stripped bare, giving you everything. My heart belongs to you. I give you my mind, so I can always sense you with me.”

As I spoke so fervently, Sax’s smile grew, as did his penis. It was wondrous to see the juicy cock expand inside his jeans, grow long down his thigh, stiffen until it must have been painfully uncomfortable. As I spoke, I couldn’t resist reaching up and cupping the hard-on. In the corner of my eye I saw three or four people, hikers I guessed, pop into the fringes of Sax’s meadow. That didn’t stop me. If anything, I’d always been something of an exhibitionist. And I sure as fuck wanted these people to admire Sax. I wanted them to be jealous of me.

So I fondled the dick lustfully, squeezing the base so it jutted out underneath the fabric. His glance flickered over to the hikers. I pretended not to notice them, although they seemed to be tiptoeing closer. I was dying to show Sax off, to display his studly machismo to strangers’ eyes.

“Now you belong to me,” said Sax, urging my head to his crotch.

I fell upon it open-mouthed. I gummed it hungrily, even licking the hot fabric of the jeans, blowing out to warm it. It quivered under my lips, jumping and twitching. Emboldened by the curious hikers who continued to creep closer, I cried out as I detached my mouth, my fingers flying over his miner’s belt buckle. I spoke loud enough for the hikers to hear me. “I give you my body! It is yours to take. Use me at your will. To serve you is my only need.”

There was no better time than now to reveal the cock ring I’d hidden in my dress pocket. I brandished it dramatically, looking innocently up at Sax. He helped me withdraw his enormous tool, hitting me with a hot wave of testosterone.

“I accept your desire to serve me.”

His words told me it was all right to encircle the root of his cock with the studded leather. It was a simple cock ring, the first thing I could grab in the short amount of time I had—I actually grabbed it from Madison, who promised me it had never been used. “When the hell would
I
find time to use it,” she had lamented bitterly.

I stroked the long, thick, beautiful cock as I snapped the ring tightly at the base. There were a few options for the snap depending on the girth of the penis, and pride swelled in my chest that Sax’s tool filled up the largest ring. By now I could see the hikers’ faces. Two women and two men in their twenties. The long-haired men wore plaid Deadhead shirts, the women long skirts and tall moccasins. Their avid faces seemed to barely be breathing, and if they thought they’d be invited to join in, they had another thing coming. Group bangs just weren’t my thing. I was too jealous for that.

I stroked the hot, dry cock with an overhand motion, worshiping at the shrine of his sex. The beautiful mushroom head was glossy with heat, and just like he had, I used the droplet of pre-come at the slit to massage and caress the glans. “Please keep me safe, my big, omnipotent Zane.” And before he could say a word, I plunged his dick down my throat.

I had never been hungrier for cock. I took him so by surprise I wound up shoving him back against the deck rail. As I suckled at the giant, throbbing limb, the glans nearly choking me when it banged up against my tonsils, I whipped out another of Maddy’s little tricks. The simple pair of cuffs wound easily with Velcro closures around one of his wrists. I didn’t even need to see behind him to bind him to the vertical rails, just threaded the tough black fabric through the wooden posts until I was sure he couldn’t escape. Then I cuffed his other wrist.

He allowed me to do this willingly, maybe overwhelmed with my deep-throating technique. My throat had been stretched by constant blowjobs for Roscoe, although his wang wasn’t nearly as long or thick as Sax’s. I remembered the hypnotic technique Roscoe had taught me, the blind concentration required to loosen your throat muscles. Inch by inch I took that monster down my throat, and now I could hear the hikers mumbling to themselves.

“What a stud,” said one of the girls.

“I’d ball him in a heartbeat,” said the other.

“I would too,” said a guy. “Wish I had a muscular ass like that.”

“You’re so bi,” said the other guy.

The original guy with the blue plaid shirt said, “Like you wouldn’t take it up the ass from him?”

Red shirt said, “As if I could. He’s too hung.”

Girl said, “Hung like a racehorse.”

In your fucking dreams
, I felt like saying. But the idea we were being avidly watched was bringing out the best in me. Sax’s prick strained against the roof of my mouth, the flat of my tongue as I caressed his bare ass for the benefit of the voyeurs. I squeezed the muscular globes in the palms of my hands, showing them that even my big man hands couldn’t contain such juicy flesh. I pistoned my head up and down on the large dick, allowing the horny potheads to see the length of his dong as it plunged once again down my throat. I wanted to leave them panting, crazy with desire and jealousy, ready to go at it like wild animals—somewhere other than here.

I don’t know what came over me. Maybe the illicit thrill of having the horny quartet for an audience came over me, pushed me to my greatest heights of boldness yet. But I started slapping Sax’s ass.

Yes,
slapping
him, just as he’d done to me.
The fucking nerve!

Where did I get such nerve? But every time I spanked the bare ass his entire body would twitch. When he protested against his bonds, when he strained his arms to test the strength of the polyester ribbons, I looked up at his bulging pecs. He only wore a wifebeater under his cut, and his nipples poked out like stones. He tossed his head back like a caged lion, the muscles in his throat working as he swallowed his moans. Such a giant wave of oxytocin rolled through my system, I could have easily mounted him on the deck railing, assaulting him with my overflow of female hormones. The hikers would have liked that, living vicariously through me, but I wanted to gulp his seed. I wanted the chance to watch him squirming, bound, helpless under my mouth and hands. I wanted him to go off like a cannon in my mouth
because he enjoyed being helpless
and it was turning him on being viewed this way.

“Oh, man, look at her suck. She’s done this a thousand times before,” said Red Shirt.

Blue Shirt said, “Sure wish that was
my
dick going down that pretty throat.”

“I’d like to bite that ass,” said Blue Girl. “Hell, I’d like to lick it. Who is this giant stud who lives here?”

Red Girl read the back of Sax’s cut. “The Bare Bones motorcycle club. Flagstaff.”

Blue Girl sighed. “How macho can you get? A biker with a dick like my fist. I wonder if he’s an outlaw.”

Now Sax’s entire body was shuddering so mightily, like a pressure cooker about to blow. I was proud I was able to get him off using just the power of my throat muscles, the lapping steadiness of my tongue. The sharp sting of my spankings might have added to his arousal, too. But I could feel it against the tip of my tongue, the pulsating of the channel that ran the underside of the cock. The urgency of the pulsing and the tremor running up the front of his powerful thighs urged me on, and before I knew it he was blasting my soft palate with his hot, sweet seed.

“Ah! God!” he groaned, as he let loose jet after jet into my greedy throat. Even his hand gripping the back of my skull trembled as I drained him. I was so damned proud of myself, I was just fit to burst as I struggled to gulp each mouthful of delicious jism. If a woman can make a man come with her mouth, she’s absolutely got him in the palm of her hand.


Ah! Enough!
” Now he pressed my forehead with his palm. I knew the feeling. One can only come so much before the intensity of flesh against flesh is like nails on a chalkboard.

I sat on my feet and looked up at the bound he-man. Now we were nearly back in our proper roles, me subservient, literally at his feet, him looming above me with a beautifully half-erect cock jutting from his bush.

“Bare Bones, eh?” called out Blue Shirt. “I wonder if they’ll let me join.”

Sax craned his neck to call out over his shoulder. “In your dreams, pal.” To me, he muttered, “Get the hell up here, sister.”

I stood, but on my way up I took a side detour to nibble at his nipples through the flimsy cotton. I grinned to myself when he responded.


Ah!
Get the fuck up here, woman!
Now!”

I obeyed, but the temptation to nuzzle him with my mouth was too great. I might not get the chance to bind him like this again, if he turned out to be a by-the-book Dom. But now his phone clipped to his belt was chiming, and he was casting me the darkest look yet.

“Untie my hands, or I’ll make you answer that like a secretary.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

SAX

T
he sun wasn’t yet peeking over the edge of the Mogollon Rim as Sax rode his scoot up the dirt fire control road. He had managed to get some sleep before starting this job. Tobiah had not. He and his man from Leaves of Grass had been hauling his latest toy up the ridge from Geronimo Estates, the last stop on the paved road. Sax thought Tobiah just wanted an excuse to use his newest device, but Tobiah swore up and down that it would be vital in locating Tormenta. Especially now that it seemed he’d literally gone underground.

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