Daydream (Oath Keepers MC) Page 6

  I never should’ve worn this dress.

  “I’m protesting now.”

  “Naw, you just need a little coaxing. I can work it out.” His other hand finds my thigh, smoothing up my skirt toward my center. “Remember the last time I touched you like this?”

  “How could I forget?”

  “Exactly. I had my fingers inside you in front of an entire bar and damn did you come hard. I can make it happen again. I can sink them knuckle deep right now.”

  “So generous of you.”

  “I missed that smart little mouth of yours, too. Close your eyes and remember how I made you shake, dollface.”

  The heat from his palm has my eyes slamming closed. Briefly, but it’s enough to stir up the memories from the first night he ever touched me.

  Three years ago…

  I’m standing on the opposite side of the pool table, downing tequila and waiting for Princess to take her shot. The bar’s a total shit hole, but fuck, it has some sexy-ass bikers. The huge biker she’d been tormenting outside, comes storming toward her.

  He looks pissed, so I attempt to warn her, “Princess!” I call, but the music and patrons are too noisy for her to hear me, and my voice drowns out amongst the chaos.

  In seconds, he’s slamming her face down on the pool table and ripping her skirt up. I can’t believe what I’m freaking seeing.

  Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. This isn’t happening.

  I stand still, shocked at first. Nobody does shit to help, so I take off for them. I have to help her!

  I’m halfway around the pool table when an arm wraps around my middle. It’s strong like a vice and pulls me into a body that’s harder than any other I’ve ever been against. He even smells strong and manly, like smoke and whiskey. It’s the type of smell from someone you’re sure you don’t want to fuck with.

  “Shhh, little daydream, leave them be.” It’s rasped into my hair, but loud enough for me to hear him clearly. I begin to stir and pull away from the mountain of a man, but he’s way too strong, easily subduing me.

  He tugs me backward with him until I’m planted directly on his lap beside one of the small round bar tables. His boots part my feet, his knees and thick thighs, easily opening my legs wide for him. I can feel his hardness against my ass, and any other time I’d want to rub all over him, but I’m too distracted right now. My best friend needs me.

  “I need to help her.” I attempt to squirm from his hold again, but it’s no use. His other hand lands on my thigh, the size making me feel dainty with him wrapped around me like this, practically consuming me.

  The arm around my stomach brushes the underside of my breasts causing the peaks to stiffen almost immediately. I was an idiot thinking I’d show off and not wear a bra with a shirt cut right underneath my tits. Young and dumb comes to mind, in a biker bar no less.

  “No, you need to let them handle it. You can’t go startin’ shit. He’s claiming her, that’s gonna be his ol’ lady.”

  “His ol’ lady?”

  “Yeah, watch them. He’s fucking her, and she’s loving it.”

  She really is. I know my best friend, and she’s enjoying every second of it. If I’m honest, it’s so damn hot too. She’s absolutely gorgeous with her cheeks flushed and her hair wild.

  His hand trails up my thigh until it reaches my cutoff jeans. The shorts are so tiny, there’s practically no barrier to keep him from touching me. “Fuck, dollface, this pussy’s just waiting for me?” he growls against my throat.

  I swallow and nod, becoming more and more turned on as I relax and listen to his voice. He adjusts, his cock thick and hard—ready. I know he wants me, and it spurs me on to wiggle on him just enough to make him groan.

  His mouth lands on my neck, sucking and biting just as his fingers find my swollen lips. The tequila and Percocet I took earlier is thrumming through my body, heightening my pleasure. There are people everywhere, but they’re all watching Princess and Viking go at it in the middle of the bar. No one’s paying any attention to Nightmare and me.

  “Jesus, you’re wet,” he mutters against my skin, and my nipples tingle, aching for his attention as well. He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen—swear to God. Mix his voice with the narcotics, and it’s a potent aphrodisiac on my body.

  His fingers part me, rubbing my wetness before pushing inside my core. I’m still wet from making myself come moments ago outside when we went to go smoke. His movements are making me drip down the side of my thigh. Probably getting all over his jeans, too, but I don’t care. I want to leave a reminder behind; I want him to remember how I felt sitting on his lap tonight.

  “Ride my fingers, baby; let me feel that sweet pussy.” He pumps them in me over and over while we watch Princess and Viking fuck like animals. His arm holding me tightly t him has my body going crazy at being controlled so effortlessly on his part, and in minutes, I’m coming again, all over his knuckles.

  “That’s it. I feel your little cunt gripping my fingers; take what you need, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

  Moans escape me; it’s so loud around us that I don’t hold back at all. I’m sure some people have noticed what we’re up to, but no one will dare say a word to the enormous biker bracing me to him. After the tremors subside and my body relaxes, his grip loosens.

  I have to see him. I want him to notice my own flushed face. I want my wetness all over his lap. I’ve craved this man since the first time I saw him, and he’s going to know it. He’s that quiet bad boy you notice across the room and then dream about nearly every night for the rest of your boring life.

  Twisting around, I climb over him to straddle his lap. My center rests on his hardness, and I reward him by grinding my hips in a circular motion. He made me come; now it’s his turn.

  “Fuck, that’s good,” he groans, one hand holding my ass so my pussy remains pushed up against his cock. The other lifts my shirt just enough for him to see my bare tits. His head falls forward, drawing a nipple in his mouth and grazing his scruffy beard between them. It feels absolutely fucking divine and has me picturing that beard between my thighs next.

  “So good,” he grumbles and sucks the wetness from his fingers, still nuzzling.

  My mouth meets his right after, my tongue swirling with his, copying the motions my hips make on his lap. The kiss is short, but sinful and sweet all mixed as one.

  “Pussy taste sweet?” I ask as I pull back and whisper it against his lips.

  “Hell yeah.” He’s so close I can taste his breath mixing with my own.

  “Now you know how both our pussy’s taste.” His gaze is confused until I tilt my head toward Princess.

  “Her?” He stops, his mouth staying open as his mind races. His gaze is blistering as he stares me down, waiting to tell him that I’m kidding. I’m not.

  “I was licking hers outside.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ.” His eyes flair as he immediately stands. He grabs my arm tightly and yanks me along with him outside. “She’s not the only one getting fucked tonight, dollface,” he growls.

  I blink, coming back to the present.

  “That was such a good night, baby,” he whispers, his tongue finding my neck as his palm rubs my core over my panties. He knows I love being kissed there; at least he did when we were together those nights.

  Not only was it a good night, it was the night I got pregnant.

  That thought has me pushing away from him. I’m panting and turned on, but thinking about my pregnancy is like a bucket of cold water when it comes to Nightmare.

  “I have to go,” I utter, my mind fighting against my body and take off back down the hallway. I’m almost outside when I hear him call after me. His voice has my steps faltering to listen.

  It’s deadly serious as he grits, “You can run, Bethany, but make no mistake, I’m a hunter. I always catch my prey. When I catch that pussy again, I’ll lick it, eat it, and fuck it. Hell, I may even keep it. Be ready, baby.”

  I push through the screen door,
and it slamming behind me loudly as I nearly run back to my best friend and son. The son he doesn’t have a clue exists.

  Nyctophilia- (n.)

  Love of darkness or night,

  finding relaxation or comfort

  in the darkness.

  I didn’t see Bethany at all yesterday. One full day of being away from her, and I haven’t stopped thinking of her. It’s like she crawled inside my mind, planted her ass down, and hasn’t gone anywhere since. It’s fucking with me.

  I’m beginning to think she took my threat serious from the barbecue the other night. That’s good; I wanted her, too, because it was the truth. The chase only makes me want to have her again even more. Christ, that bitch looked so fucking beautiful when I touched her, too. Jesus, took my breath away.

  She’s foolish if she believes I’ll let her hide out the entire week she’s visiting, though. I’ll show up at Viking’s house if I have too; I’m not above finding her. I’m trying not to be too pushy since she has a kid and all, but I won’t stand completely to the side either.

  “You good, brother?” Viking questions me as he stares from across the table. I sorta just zoned out in front of everyone during church. We all do it, so I shrug it off.

  “I’m straight. A little distracted or whatever, but it’s all good.”

  “He needs some pussy; his mind’s too busy.” Ruger snickers, and I glare in return.

  I saw his dumb ass flirting with B the other night. I should make him taste his teeth for that shit. He knows we fucked before. He should also know she’s off limits. He wanted her back then, and I told him to take a damn hike. Besides, he’s still a Nomad, so ride off into the sunset, motherfucker.

  I don’t care about much, especially when it comes to the club. They do their thing, and I’m there with my support. The brothers rarely see me showing interest in any of the females around. If I like a bitch, they should back the fuck up and find another.

  “It’s not too busy to know you need to mind your own.”

  “Oh, I am brother; I assure you. I have no curiosity in her this time around. You made yourself clear the last time.”

  The brothers sitting around the table all watch us curiously. This isn’t typical club business, but Ruger’s decided to air my laundry in front of everyone apparently. Stupid ass.

  “Good.” I shut him out, not about to let everyone see me worked up. I’m glad the fucker learned quickly, though. No more going swimming and trying to hit it. That shit won’t fly this time. No one’s touching that pussy but me; I’ll make sure of it.

  Odin clears his throat. “You know she’s leaving in a few days, right?”

  Jesus fucking Christ. I can’t believe we’re discussing this shit in the middle of church right now. They all need to mind their own damn business instead of being knee deep in my shit.

  “Thanks for that, Sherlock. Now can everyone mind their fuckin’ business or should we go about holding hands next? Maybe watch each other take a piss?”

  Blaze grins and Scot chuckles. Viking just rolls his eyes and waits for us to be quiet so he can get back to his discussion. Odin shuts up immediately; he is after all the lowest on the totem pole besides the prospects. Sure, he’ll be VP someday, but he’s gotta earn that shit in his brother’s eyes.

  Torch is like me—quiet and sticks close to Viking. Hell, we all stay close to our Prez. Who knew the craziest fucker in our group would end up being an amazing leader.

  “Now, back to the women we have working for us. Does the bar still have enough security? I don’t want deputy douchebag showing up and catching them whoring out the back building.”

  “Aye,” Scot confirms. “Makin’ good bit of cash too.”

  “No issues at all? Blaze, you’ve been over there a lot. Anything?”

  “Nope, the whores have been staying clean, and the johns have been leaving satisfied. They’re getting repeat customers and no one’s beating them up any more like when they were on their own. It’s going smooth as silk, Prez.”

  “Good. Keep them safe and clean. If anyone wants to leave, make sure they have a way too. We get a decent cut, but overall, they work for themselves, and I want to keep it that way.”

  The brothers nod. We’ve never been the type to be running pussy, but it’s worked out well for everyone involved so far. The crime in Austin against the whores was skyrocketing. Women were ending up dead or nearly beaten to death, some from overdose and not making it to the hospital in time.

  Since they came to us asking for help, they’ve had no issues, and we’ve gotten a healthy profit from it. I’ll admit, it’s nice having another form of steady cash coming in rather than lump sums from random runs. When we have brothers visiting, they can have some company if they choose to.

  I haven’t touched any of them either. I won’t—ever. A few of them are sweet and talk to me, try to catch my eye, but it never works. I don’t care about them being around the club and fucking the guys or whatever, but I prefer not to shit where I eat. I can only imagine the drama when someone gets feelings or whatever. No thank you. No easy pussy is worth that trouble.

  “How was the gig?” Vike turns to me again.

  “No issues.” I shrug.

  “Bet and Exterminator?”

  “Ex and Chaos handled the drug swap while I played and kept watch.”

  “That’s what’s up. Good looking out.” He takes a swig of whiskey and turns to Chaos. “Did the Mexican offer anything besides weed again?”

  We’ve been attempting to heal the rift we have with the Mexican cartel, even though I fucking hate the thought. It’s all in hopes to flush out the leader and start taking out bits of the organization. If any type of mob’s around, we want it to be the Russians. We’ve worked well with them for years now.

  “Nope, we made ourselves clear we don’t want anything besides moving some green.”

  “No coke?”

  “No, Prez. We told him we’d light his ass on fire if he brought it to us again.”

  “Good. Twist from the other crew handles that shit, and I don’t want us dipping into their shit cause some Mexican’s gettin’ greedy.”

  “We won’t cause any shit with Ares’ club; you know this,” I grumble, and Viking nods, sighing.

  He’s stressed. I’m guessing over the wedding. He’s supposed to leave for a few days, too, and he’s not used to taking time off. If he leaves, it’s ‘cause we have a run or some other reason. This time he’s supposed to take a few days and do absolutely nothing with his ol’ lady. My money’s on them staying here. They’ll post up in the house going at it nonstop, but he won’t stray far from his club.

  “Anything else?” He glances around, and we shake our heads. He slams the gavel, and we shuffle out the decent-sized chapel room he had built specifically for church.

  “You need to get her alone with a few drinks in her system. Have the old Bethany come out and play,” Ruger suggests, walking behind me. Nosey bastard.

  “How am I supposed to do that?” I mutter. She has a kid now; I can’t get her toasted with a little one to take care of. I’m a dick, but not that sort of a dick.

  “I can help with that.” Odin comes up beside me. I swear it seems like Viking’s younger brother grows half an inch each week.

  “How?”

  “I’ll offer to babysit so she can come to the party with Princess tonight. She was planning to stay at the house and watch movies, but if I offer to babysit, she’ll come.”

  “Why would she let you?” I stare at him skeptically. It’s a longshot, but it could work if we get Princess on board to talk Bethany into it.

  “Bethany trusts me. I’ve seen her over the past few years. You haven’t, and Maverick likes me anyhow.”

  “Maverick?” I ask. Cool-ass name for a kid. I shouldn’t expect anything less from B, though.

  “Yeah, that’s her son’s name. He’s almost three.”

  “Right.” I nod, but I really have no fucking clue. Why does finding this out, make me fee
l like an ass for not already knowing? Maybe because she’s here alone, without a man and I know if it were my kid, I’d be posted up beside them nonstop. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why would you do this for me?” I’m blunt, but Odin owes me nothing, and he’s young. I remember being his age, babysitting was the furthest thing from my mind.

  “Because you’re my brother. I have your back, and one day, I’ll need you to have mine.”

  Ah, the fucker’s smart. He knows that one day we’ll all be voting on him being Vice President. He’s already chalking up favors from us. He’s no doubt Viking’s blood. He’ll make one hell of a leader someday like his brother.

  “All right, Odin. You do me a solid, and I’ll owe you one.”

  “I’m counting on it.” He smirks, heading for the parking lot.

  “Spider?” I turn to the shorter, dark-haired brother.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you figure out where it is exactly that she lives? I need to know how far this commute is gonna be if I’m getting serious an’ all.”

  “Of course. I can get her plate number from the security tape and run it through the DMV system. As long as her registration’s up to date, her address should be current in their program. But why are you going to this trouble? It’s been years since you were with her.”

  “I know that. Maybe it took a few years for me to realize what’s important in life.”

  “And what about her son?”

  “He fits in those plans.”

  Especially since I can’t have my own kids.

  “Okay then, give me about an hour to search the feed and get her license plate number. I’ll get you an address and phone number.”

  “Appreciate it,” I reply, and Spider’s off toward his room. It’s like a tech center in there with five computer monitors and a few laptops. He’s got all kinds of shit going on all the time. He helps watch the club security footage when he’s not out riding with Ex and them. He does pretty much anything else we need him to tech wise as well. I’d describe him as an outlaw nerd. He won’t blink to bury a body and can hack into pretty much anything.