Nomad Kind of Love Page 17

  His tongue darted out, rough and conquering. It thrust past my lips, stroking me, softening me up for greater glories.

  I sizzled when his hand brushed up my thigh. Maverick moved his fingers up slowly, stopping at my waist to curl down my pants. His fingers swept my panties aside and pushed their way into me.

  Like magic, the nightmare broke, replaced with sultry desire.

  Vulture's evil commands and sick face faded. My lover, my savior, flicked his thumb over my clit, oiling me in my own wetness. Every stroke replaced darkness with pleasurable light.

  I threw my hands around his neck and pulled him in. His mouth kissed down my neck, and his free hand reached up to shove my shirt up, feeling for my breast.

  “God!” I purred. “Aaron!”

  He bristled at using his real name, but he never told me to stop. It seemed to energize him, as though he took joy in sharing a secret privilege he didn't give to anybody else.

  Aaron. Maverick. Whoever and whatever you are, I love you.

  And I love your fucking body too.

  Growling, he tore himself away from me. Maverick picked me up off the floor again and made a straight line for the bed.

  “Better get your clothes off, babe. If you don't take care of them now, I won't be able to stop myself from tearing off the wrapper to get what's mine.”

  “I'm not a candy bar!” I said jokingly, brushing my cheek on his stubble.

  His edges were rough, yeah, but they always felt very fucking good.

  “Maybe you ought to be. I'm gonna savor every inch of you tonight. Come to think of it, I don't know many candy bars begging to be filled. You want it bad, don't you?”

  Before I could answer, he dropped me on the bed. I didn't use my words. I used my hands, rolling up my shirt and popping my bra in record time.

  He watched the whole time as I yanked off my clothes and tossed them on the floor. He didn't join me until I was fully naked, inviting, and spread for him.

  “Play with your clit and watch me, babe. I want you wetter than fucking rain when I get between your legs.”

  Shit, another first. I'd never rubbed myself in front of a man before. He once again made me do the unthinkable, leading me to virgin territory I'd never explored.

  If there was one thing I'd learned by now, it was to trust him with my very being. I rubbed one hand up and down my slit, moaning when I discovered just how wet I was.

  Maverick smiled at his good work. Slowly, he raised his arms and dropped his cut, then dragged the shirt underneath up over his head, inch by throbbing inch.

  Was this what it felt like when guys watched porn? My lust went up another notch when I saw his bare, muscular chest in all its tattooed, flaming, screaming glory. When he dropped his pants and tugged down his boxers, his cock popped out, angry and ready.

  He pumped it twice in his fist, drowning me in fresh intensity.

  “Oh!” I almost came, circling my clit faster and faster. “Don't torture me like this. Fuck me so hard I won't ever forget this night.”

  He didn't need to be asked twice. The bed sank fast beneath his weight and he was on me like a tiger, shoving my legs apart.

  I wasn't a small gal, but he managed to fit them up over his shoulders, and it wasn't uncomfortable. He sank into me, groaning like he'd just tasted the best thing in the world.

  Dig in, I thought. I'm your feast tonight. Every fucking inch of me. Just like you said.

  I want you to have your fill, Maverick. Be a glutton.

  His cock sank up and wedged against my womb. Then he pulled back, faster, before slamming into me again, all the way up to the hilt.

  Then it was just straight on fucking. He growled and jerked his hips, leveling himself deeper than he'd ever been before with his massive cock, hitting new angles that made me writhe beneath him.

  Ten thrusts in and I came, convulsing around the steady slap of his balls on my flesh. Wet heat flooded me, pouring all over his cock, tightening around him like a vice.

  I screamed. The paper thin walls in this cheap motel wouldn't keep out anything.

  For all I knew, his brothers were in the other rooms next to ours, listening as he ravished me like the property I was. The idea wasn't strange or embarrassing.

  I wanted the whole world to know I'd given myself to this man. He owned me now, total and complete, and my body reacted to him like nobody else.

  “Fucking tight and wet, babe! Keep clenching your sweet cunt around me.” He drove on, hips moving like a piston.

  His deep strokes wouldn't even let me come down from the insane heights. I was jettisoned into outer space, where everything was full of stars and white hot ecstasy.

  My clit throbbed a steady tempo. At some point, he reached down and stroked it, adding to my fire. I was already far too burned to keep track.

  I thought he was on the verge of coming, but suddenly the thrusting stopped. He held himself in me, slowly swiveling his hips, tracing my face with one rough hand.

  “You thinking about anything but this, babe?” He thrust hard and deep several times.

  I cried out, clenching the sheets. “No! Oh my God – no! Please.”

  “Good girls get what they deserve. Come with me, June. Come like a motherfucking firecracker.”

  He bared his teeth and grabbed my legs, holding them high, thrusting down into me. The bed shook like it was about to break.

  Nice to know we could make the springs sing anywhere, even if his old bed where we'd first made love was gone forever.

  Aaron jerked one more time and stopped, groaning like a bull. His cock swelled as my sex clenched. We exploded together, cascading pleasure through our bodies.

  Nothing else mattered here, wrapped so snug and tight around him as he filled me with his seed. Nothing but this.

  Not the old demons, finally vanquished for good. Not the uncertainty about whatever the hell the future held.

  In this space, it was just him and I. Sweating, grunting, and twitching in a rhythm so intense it wiped me clean.

  Maverick pulled out and left behind a steaming flow between my legs. I rolled, making room for him, smiling when he encircled me in dark inked muscle.

  “You really think everything's going to be all right now?” I asked him the question I'd been afraid to ask since we left the shattered clubhouse.

  I needed to know. MC life would never be easy and normal, old lady or not, but surely it would be calmer than this going forward. I was willing to ride the choppy waters, as long as it was with him, steering us away from the big storms.

  “Babe, I know it will. I've done my job for mother charter, though Throttle isn't gonna like the way it came down. I'm a Nomad, June, and you're a Nomad's old lady. Soon as our shit's in order, we can go anywhere we want. Well, anywhere there's a Prairie Devils clubhouse in fifty miles.”

  “Really?” It honestly excited me.

  “Really,” he repeated. “Study the map while I'm taking care of business. We'll take a long run this summer, wherever you want.”

  I'd never lived anywhere except Western Montana. Knowing we were truly free to start over anywhere we wanted was exhilarating, strange, and scary all at once.

  “I'll have to give it some thought. When will you and the guys get new bikes?” It was strange to have the whole MC reduced to using trucks and vans.

  “Soon as fucking possible.” It was exactly what I thought he'd say. “Dunno when, but I don't really care. Harleys come and go, even though I love 'em to death. I'd rather have you riding on the back and in my bed any day – that's what's really important.”

  He turned toward me and smiled. Those had to be the sweetest words a biker could ever say to an old lady.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  “Love you, babe.” Growling, he pulled me close, kissing me with a rougher fury. “You and that sweet ass of yours are gonna be with me until the day I die.”

  Laughing, I took his kisses one by one, relishing the feel of his new erection stiffening betwe
en us.

  X: Bitter Peace (Maverick)

  There were fifty guys wearing the full Prairie Devils patch in the old barn. Pretty damned big group for us, but they were bigger.

  The Grizzlies had at least a hundred bikers. They flanked the other side of the barn, standing like soldiers, ready to turn this war from cold to hot at a moment's notice.

  “Come on, Maverick. You're with me. This is our business.” I followed Throttle as he stepped away from our group. Our counterparts on the other side did the same.

  It was a big, tall guy with a cut fully decked in patches. The Grizzlies went overboard, especially for Fang, President of their mother charter in Sacramento.

  Old Ursa was at his side, the Missoula President who'd let his club go to hell by pushing shit off on his VP. And he'd paid for it dearly by losing the whole charter.

  “Let's get this over with. It's a long fucking ride to North Dakota,” Throttle said, stopping at the worn table in the middle of the room.

  “Long ass ride to Cali too,” Fang said. “Makes me want to break out the guns and kill all you assholes so I never have to drag my ass up here again.”

  Throttle smiled. “Go ahead and try. My club will survive further east without a head. Can't say the same for you with the cartels nipping at your heels down south.”

  Fang frowned. He looked at me, and then at Ursa. I stared like a rock. Didn't want to let on anything I was thinking to these bastards.

  “I'd be real careful about the bets you're making, boys. You've both been awful lucky. One of these days, your gamble's gonna go the other way. Your whole MC's gonna pay big time. Blood and cash.” Fang looked us up and down, his hand a couple inches from his pocket.

  Shit. If he was going for his side-arm now to start some shit, nobody could stop it. With this many guys, the bullets were judge, jury, and executioner. Even orders from MC heads didn't matter once the party started with this many bikers invited.

  “Listen, it seems to me we're at an impasse.” Throttle leaned forward, and Fang's hand stopped its slide toward his pocket. “Truth is my brother here kicked all your asses, even though they were outnumbered and outgunned. Only trouble is we can't move further West. I know when I've had a lucky break. I'm not so crazy I'll push into your territory, Fang. Hell, we can't have a proper clubhouse in Python anytime soon after all the attention over this shit.”

  “Too bad!” Fang spat. “If you mean you Devils got your way by trickery and double crosses, you're right.”

  “Little reminder,” I spoke up. “Ursa's club double crossed us first. They sent vulnerable guys into our businesses to scope things out after we made our little agreement. Then when we tried to solve things peacefully, he bit off more than he could chew. Nobody fucking takes back a girl when she's my old lady.”

  Fang spun around, laughing, making a full 360 before looking at Throttle and I again.

  “You guys are really fucking serious, aren't you? Holy mother of hell! You think I'm an idiot.” His voice darkened, low and menacing. “Nobody fucking believed you were really gonna give yourself up without a fight. If old Vulture had any brains, he would've seen it coming.”

  “What's done is done,” Throttle said loudly. “We can piss our time away talking about the past, or we can look toward the future.”

  “I don't see any future that doesn't involve me ordering my guys to put a bullet through every Devils' patch they find,” Fang said coldly.

  “That's where you're wrong. Trust is a hard thing to come by between our clubs – as it damned well should be. So, I'm gonna make you one more offer.” Throttle cleared his throat. “We've got our supply route through Missoula now that your charter there's gone. But it isn't hitting our main market. Your club can't do shit up in Canada because you made some powerful enemies there.”

  “Fuck Canada!” Fang roared. “We do our business in the States and south of the border. All better markets than the frozen shithole where your friends live.”

  “Except the cartels aren't making things so easy anymore, are they? Wouldn't you like a cut of what's going through a border that isn't reaching down to bite your dick off?”

  Fang looked at us both, narrowing his eyes. Ursa shuffled next to him. It was easy to tell the old President without a club wasn't liking where this was heading.

  “And how the hell are we supposed to get a piece of that?”

  “Give us Missoula. We set up a charter there, we won't move further West, and we'll have a sweet supply line straight up into Vancouver.” Throttle paused. “Only if you give us free access, of course.”

  “Fine. Fifty-percent cut plus a fifty big starter fee. You fuckers take your colors off when you hit the Idaho border, and don't put them back on until you get to Canada.”

  Throttle shook his head. “Twenty-percent, forty big starter, and everybody keeps their colors.”

  “Fang! What the fuck?” Ursa tugged at his sleeve like an insolent little boy. “You let all my men die for nothing?”

  Very slowly, Fang turned to the old man at his side. “You don't got a fucking club anymore, gramps. Now shut up before I send you to the retirement home instead of somewhere warmer.”

  Ursa stared at me hatefully. I grinned, quickly flashing my smile, and then hiding it just as fast when the two Presidents started up again.

  “Forty-percent, fifty big, and no god damned colors. We're not sneaky fucking pushovers like you assholes. You wanna ride through our territory, with our blessings, then show some fucking respect!” Fang looked slapped the table like a gorilla.

  “Last offer,” Throttle said quietly. “Thirty-five – right where we both know this is gonna end. Forty big, plus an extra ten in damages. We keep our colors, but we'll fill up in Coeur d'Alene and ride all the way through to Vancouver. No Devil will stop in a single Washington bar for beer or pussy. Only time you'll see us is when somebody comes by your Seattle clubhouse to drop off your money.”

  Fang stood tall, shook his head, and sighed. Next to him, Ursa was quietly fuming. I thought he'd have a stroke when the big boss extended his hand to Throttle.

  They shook, each man trying to get a tighter, more dominant squeeze than the other.

  “Don't fuck me on this, Throttle. You do, and I won't even hesitate to send my guys after you. I'll put a fucking price on your head and every Prairie Devils' President across the country.”

  Throttle smiled, ignoring the threat. “No need. I'm glad we could work shit this way instead of using lead.”

  I pressed my hands to my sides. The gun near my hip was still there, cold and ready for use. For once, using it didn't feel inevitable, though, and that was a relief.

  “Whatever. Let's get the fuck out of here.” Fang turned, heading back toward his guys, and we did the same.

  The war was over. It defied all sense, history, and the fucking odds, but we did it. We won.

  Blaze and I broke away from the main group on the way back to our temporary camp in Bozeman. My brother drove, I was in the passenger seat, and all three of my full patch guys plus five Dakota boys were in the back.

  Felt like some kinda god damned family outing. It was good to see Tank with us again. He still looked a little pale, but he was up and moving with a shitty smile on his face.

  Luckiest man in our MC. He took a bullet to dodge bombs in the clubhouse, and now he was getting a pretty new ride.

  We headed for the dealership with a blank check from the club to pick up our new bikes.

  The salesmen gave us the respect we deserved. It was extra nice seeing him slur his words and trip over a few more bulk discounts. I didn't doubt the man had dealt with outlaw MCs before.

  News about what happened in Python must've made it here. The Prairie Devils weren't to be fucked with, and now our 1% patch meant something deadly fucking serious in this state.

  With Missoula secured, our core business would be there. Not that we'd leave Python behind forever. Hoped to have a strip club there again next to the tattoo parlor one day. Least fo
r now our dancers could relocate to the new joint in Missoula.

  With the Grizzlies fucked, the Dirty Diamond was closing down further north. Devils owned and operated skin shops would soon be the only game in town.

  I'd just mounted my new bike – a sleek baby with state of the art leather seats and some built in GPS shit – when my phone rang.

  “Aaron? I haven't heard from you in weeks. What the hell have you and Michael been up to?”

  “Planning a trip east, Sis. At least I am. Not sure about Blaze.”

  She giggled. Aimee thought the road names were silly.

  Whatever, it was her right as a civilian, just as long as she respected them anywhere that mattered.

  “You mean you're done fucking around out there in the mountains? Seen any bears yet?”

  Not the kind you'd want to see in a zoo, Sis.

  “Nothing. Haven't spent much time camping up in Glacier. I need to get back to the clubhouse. Somebody's waiting for me, plus Blaze and I really need to wrap this Montana shit up.”

  “Somebody? Is it the girl Michael told me about?” Her voice crackled with fascination.

  Fuck. Blaze usually told me when he talked to our sister, but sometimes things slipped by.

  Only one way to make this easy...

  “Sure is.” I decided to come clean. “Her name's June. You'll meet her soon, Aimee. For real. Got a good feeling we'll be swinging through Iowa sometime this summer.”

  “I can't wait! She's got to be amazing to hold her own with the big, gruff biker Prez, right? Talk to you later, bro.”

  “Later.”

  I cut the call. A little razzing aside, those were the calls I liked to have with my sister. She was sharp, and didn't sound the least bit strange in the little game of give and take all siblings play. Told me she was staying clear of the old world.

  The new bike revved to life like a rocket beneath me. Most beautiful thing in the world, short of knowing the two women in my life were happy and healthy.

  We took a long, slow ride through the mountains to the lodge where we were camping out. The new rides took a little getting used to. They were sleek, efficient, and razor sharp in the right hands. All that mattered to me.