She turned away, and I came back to reality.
I couldn’t go down that road with Quinn. She would only get hurt, and I would end up in a shallow grave somewhere in the woods.
Lifting the beer I had almost forgotten was in my hand to my lips, I took a long swallow as I headed for the room I always used when I slept at the clubhouse.
Kicking the door shut, I dropped down onto the bed and closed my eyes. My dick was still trying to break its way out, so I undid my belt and unfastened my top button. Carefully, I unzipped the fly and pulled my dick out of my boxers.
I didn’t try to hold back my groan as I stroked my cock in a tight fist. I imagined Quinn was this tight. That she had never been touched before, and I could be the one to pluck her cherry. I wanted her dripping wet as she coated my cock with her creamy pussy.
I stroked myself slowly, taking my time, enjoying the fantasy that was building in my head. It wasn’t the first time I had done that; it definitely wouldn’t be the last, either. Quinn was my favorite fantasy. Sometimes, when I was fucking a woman, I would pretend it was her under me, and it would get me off in a matter of minutes.
My balls began to tighten, the first sign that I was going to come. I released my cock and smeared the liquid on the tip over the head, getting it nice and wet. Then, diving my hand into my boxers, I cupped my balls, squeezing and massaging them, letting myself imagine that it was Quinn.
Her hands were small, but not soft. I had seen the calluses on them from how hard she worked at, not only Aggie’s, but when she’d had to take care of her sick mom, too. She was a good girl, a good woman. She would make some lucky bastard a good wife one day.
Jealous at the thought of some faceless prick who would one day get to claim the one thing I wanted more than anything, I stroked myself harder. The pressure in my balls doubled, and I knew I was going to blow any minute.
Before I could come, I released myself again.
I wanted to be inside a woman when I came, but the one I wanted wasn’t available. This was my punishment for all the bad shit I had done in my life. For all the fucking, killing, and the countless other sins I had committed over the years as an Angel’s Halo member.
Fuck, if this was just a taste of the hell that awaited me in the hereafter, I knew I would spend eternity frying while the devil laughed his ass off.
Chapter 4
Quinn
The party was going strong around me. MC members were laughing and having a good time. A few kids were running around, screaming and playing. Old ladies were trying to keep up with their children, husbands, and making sure no one went overboard.
I was feeling good, laid back, and almost emotionless. It was a fun feeling, peaceful even.
Then I saw two of my three sisters watching me with knowing smirks on their faces, and I realized this was not what I wanted. I wasn’t like them. They spent their lives always looking for a good time—drinking, doing drugs, and any guy who gave them so much as a second glance.
Putting the cup I had just poured for myself on the nearest table, I turned away from my sisters’ smiling faces and headed for the bathroom. Flick had gotten dragged away by Jet and Hawk for something party related, and Colt had tempted Kelli to go outside with him. Knowing those two, they were in the back of her car, making out like two horny teenagers. They couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other.
The bathrooms that everyone who wasn’t a MC member used were in the back of the clubhouse, past the bedrooms. Even as tipsy as I was—okay, so I was two sips away from being stumbling drunk—I could find them with no trouble.
I passed one that I knew all too well. Not because I had ever been inside it, but because, when I had been sixteen, I had more or less stalked Raider. I had made it my mission to know everything about my best friend’s brother, and that included where he slept when he wasn’t home.
Looking back from my tipsy point of view, I realized I had been sickeningly pathetic where that particular man was concerned. How many times, as a stupid teenager, had I stood outside that door, tracing little hearts on the wood? Dammit, I wished I could go back in time and kick that girl’s ass. Maybe I wouldn’t have wasted so many years pining away for him.
Mentally cursing myself, I reached for the doorknob, but before I could touch it, the knob twisted and the door swung inward.
Lost in a mixture of self-loathing and tipsy as hell, it took me a few seconds to realize someone was coming out of the bathroom. I just stood there, blinking wide-eyed up at the guy who now stood in front of me.
It took a moment to realize who I was looking at, because this guy was one of the new prospects. The club had two newer prospects on top of the three that had been around for nearly a year now. This one had come from another club. Texas, I thought he had said.
He came in for lunch at the diner at least twice a week and always set in my section. He had been cordial every time and left me good tips. I liked his smile and had even flirted with him a time … or ten.
Boomer was the name everyone called him, but like most of the guys in the MC, I figured that wasn’t the name his momma had given him. He was nice to look at with his lean build, sleeved up tatted arms, and a face that belonged on some dark, Greek god.
“Well, hello there, pretty girl,” Boomer’s deep voice greeted me, reminding me exactly how he had gotten his name. It was a nice, deep voice. The kind that made a girl wet when he spoke to them like he just had me. His smile was even and white, almost too perfect for a biker really. There was a dimple at the left corner of his mouth, one that had gotten most of the other waitresses at Aggie’s giggling every time he flashed it at them.
“Hi,” I began, stopping as soon as I heard the sound of my voice. To my own ears, it seemed to come out all husky and sexy. Shit, but I got all seductive when I was tipsy.
Mentally shrugging, I tilted my head to the right ever so slightly while my eyes took in every inch of this guy from head to toe and back again.
Boomer just stood there, a smug grin on his face while he let me look my fill.
As my eyes started the long trip back up, I heard him chuckle. “Like what you see, darlin’?”
I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment, but the alcohol that still made my blood sing through my veins gave me a confidence I never would have had while sober.
Licking my lips, I met his gaze. “I don’t know. Maybe if I saw what was under all those clothes, I could make up my mind.”
Dark eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared. He leaned down so we were on an even eye level. “That can be arranged, Quinn.” His voice was even deeper now, full of a lust that I had never experienced.
I swallowed hard. My heart was racing like an out of control freight train, and suddenly, my palms were slick with sweat.
Forget about Raider Hannigan, a voice in the back of my head commanded. It’s time to move on. Fuck this guy until you don’t remember who Raider is.
Another voice, one that was notably more quiet than usual tried to argue. Don’t do it, Quinn. You’re a good girl. Don’t give your V to just any guy.
I almost rolled my eyes as my inner angel and demon tried to play tug of war with my conscience. Meanwhile, in the real world, Boomer was still standing in the bathroom doorway, his eyes practically eating me alive as he waited for me to make up my mind.
Taking a small step forward, I lifted a hand and pressed my palm to the center of his chest under his prospect cut. “Kiss me,” I commanded, trying to channel all the badass chicks I knew as I pretended to know what the hell I was doing.
One second he was standing there in front of me, the next he was grabbing for my ass with both hands, backing me up against the wall behind me. He lifted me like I weighed nothing at all until I was eye level with him. With one hand now under my ass, he lifted the other to wrap around the ponytail at the back of my head.
Boomer took a moment, his gaze sweeping over every one of my facial features, before he lowered his head and captured my lips in a hun
gry kiss.
This was all new to me. I didn’t know where to put my hands, didn’t know what I should do with my legs that just dangled between us. I felt awkward, but his lips were nice. They were warm, slightly damp, and they were trying to devour my mouth. I tried to keep up, tried to pretend I knew what I was doing, but not even the alcohol could give me the one thing I needed right then.
Experience.
The only other kiss I had ever had was when my date got up the nerve to kiss me after our junior prom back in high school. The guy had been shaking so badly our teeth had bumped and his braces had cut my top lip. It was only later that I learned that Colt had put the fear of God into the poor guy in case he tried anything with me. I didn’t get many date offers after that.
Between the overprotectiveness of Colt and the uncles, as well as taking care of my mother while she had been so sick, chances to date hadn’t come up all that often.
This kiss was nothing like that first one, but even though it was nice, it wasn’t doing any of those incredible things I had read about in the thousands of romance novels I had read. There was no instant spark. No fireworks exploding as his hand under my ass grew bold, and he squeezed one globe roughly, his fingers rubbing over my jean-clad pussy. I didn’t get goose bumps, or feel lightheaded.
It was kind of a letdown, yet I didn’t try to stop the kiss. Maybe it would get better. I hoped at least.
I tilted my head, kissing him back as I linked my hands at the back of his neck. He pulled me in closer, grinding his lower body against my abdomen. I felt something flex against me and my blush intensified.
Holy crap. He was hard. For … me.
That thought gave me a new kind of high the alcohol hadn’t been able to, and I tried harder to get into the kiss.
This guy wanted me. He was smoking hot and a nice guy from what little I knew about him.
I could have done worse, that was for sure.
And I was ready to lose my V.
I pulled my head back, breaking the kiss. We were both breathing hard, and I caught the scent of his breath. A hint of coffee under the smell of beer and smoke.
“Bed,” I told him, licking my lips and finding them oddly sore. “Find us a bed.”
His grin was almost wicked. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter 5
Raider
I was just starting to doze off when I heard a loud thump against my door. I shifted onto my front.
Figuring it was just a few of the guys fucking around, I closed my eyes again. Everyone knew this room was off limits, so I didn’t think anything else of it.
Sleep started to take me over again. Sleep was the one place where I could have everything I wanted. Where I could fuck Quinn any way I wanted, as many times as I wanted.
The thump came again, followed by a feminine giggle that had my eyes shooting open. I knew that giggle. There hadn’t been a time I had heard it and not savored the sound, locking it away for the empty nights when I was finally all alone.
When the doorknob rattled for a few seconds, I sat up, just as the door started to open.
“What …? No, wait. Not that room!” the owner of the giggle cried out.
Too late, the door opened. The hall light was like a spotlight behind them, showcasing them both for me perfectly.
Good. Now I know who I needed to fucking kill.
One of the new prospects had Quinn up against my bedroom door, his hands on her ass. Her hair was coming out of her ponytail, and even from where I was sitting, I could tell her lips were swollen.
Quinn’s eyes were trained on the bed, although she probably couldn’t see me clearly since I was still in darkness. Boomer, the prospect she was with, didn’t realize what was going on around him. He was too busy kissing her neck.
Shit.
Rage burned through my chest as I jump off the bed and was across the room before the fucker could so much as raise his head.
I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him away from Quinn. Her feet hit the floor and she dropped back against the door, pushing it all the way open. When she started to stumble, I pushed Boomer away, reaching out to catch her. Her body was completely stiff against mine as I righted her.
“Sorry, man,” Boomer was already apologizing. “I didn’t know this was your room.”
Slowly, I turned my head to look at the prospect. He was one of the new guys, a transfer from one of our charter clubs in Texas, yet he had still been a prospect there before he had moved to Creswell Springs to be closer to family. I had gone on a run with him just the week before, but we hadn’t had much interaction past me giving him orders.
“Now you know,” I growled, dismissing him before I slaughtered the motherfucker in front of Quinn then and there. “Get lost.”
He nodded, already reaching his hand out for Quinn to take. “Come on, darlin’. We’ll find somewh—”
“She’s not going any-fucking-where with you, dickhead.” My vision was starting to narrow, a red haze filling my line of vision, as I pushed Quinn back a few steps toward my bed, tightening my hold on her, putting her out of his reach and using my own body to block his path if he tried to challenge me.
She pushed against my chest, trying to wiggle out of my hold. “Let me go, Raider.”
“No way,” I snapped at her, my rage only growing with each passing second that Boomer kept standing there.
I could smell the punch on her breath, and I had seen her with a red cup in her hand earlier. I knew she’d had at least one cup of that damned punch that Willa liked to make to fuck people up with. But Quinn wasn’t slurring her words and, as someone who rarely drank, she would have been stumbling drunk right then if she’d had too much of it. Whether she was drunk or not, there was no way in hell I was letting her go anywhere with this fucker.
“There’s no way you’re going with this guy.”
She pushed harder, but there was no way she could have moved me unless I wanted to be moved. “You’re such an asshole. What? You’re the only one who can fuck around in the clubhouse? Is that it?”
Her words did nothing to calm my rage. If anything, it only stroked it, along with my painful erection that I realized was still hanging out of my unbuttoned jeans. Boomer couldn’t see it, but there was no way Quinn couldn’t feel it against her side.
The way she had said “fuck” had been like a physical caress down my shaft. Regardless, the images she had brought to mind, of her fucking the prospect, had me vibrating with the rage that was trying to consume me.
No way in hell was I going to let this motherfucker touch Quinn.
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to talk without losing what little hold I had on my control, I pushed Quinn onto the bed. I was rougher than I normally would have been with her, but I was beyond pissed. She was lucky I didn’t throw her there.
Tucking my dick into my jeans, I turned back to the prospect, only to find him standing on the other side of the door, his hands raised in surrender.
“Message received, man. She’s yours.”
“Damn right,” I snarled, slamming the door in his face before locking it.
I could kill him later, I promised myself. First things first, though. I had to deal with Quin.
The room was in complete darkness now, so I hit the lights and turned to find her still lying on the bed where I had put her. Her head was turned toward me, but the look on her face was one I had never seen directed at me before.
Pure venomous hate was flashing at me out of her baby blues. She was so tiny that it was more adorable than intimidating.
“You’re a dick, you know that?”
I popped my neck, trying to ease some of the tension in my muscles. “Been called worse.”
“I bet,” she said with a snort, crossing her arms over her chest.
She looked delectable the way she was lying on my bed, sulking. Delectable and hot as sin.
I walked toward the bed, noticing the effects of her encounter with the prospect. Her shirt was wrinkled
and halfway up her waist, showing me how creamy her belly was, along with a hint of metal. A belly button ring? Sexy. Then my eyes caught the sight of her jeans and saw that the button was undone, along with the zipper.
My rage, which had started to cool, doubled. Had that motherfucker had his hands in her pants? Had he touched that sweet, little pussy?
Goddammit. I wanted to punch something. This wasn’t the first time I had experienced jealousy where Quinn was concerned, but it had never been this strong before. The urge to maim and murder held me in place as I fought my caveman instincts that were demanding I butcher the prospect.
“You’re such a buzzkill, you know that?” She sat halfway up and leaned back on her elbows as she looked up at me, a defiant glare in her eyes. Her lips were still swollen from Boomer’s kisses, making them even more pouty than usual.
Something painful burned through my chest. Not so much rage or even jealousy this time.
It was hurt.
That she would try to hook up with some guy who was more or less a stranger to the area. Hell, I would have felt like that if it was someone she had known all her life.
I had no right. Fuck, I had pushed her away for so many years, and I didn’t deserve to get to feel even an iota of hurt over her screwing around with other guys. It still stung like a red wasp.
I leaned over her, pressing my hands into the mattress on either side of her head and getting in her face. “This isn’t you, Quinn. You don’t drink, and you sure as hell don’t go around hooking up with random guys.”
She rolled her eyes at me, and I had the sudden urge to bend her over my knee and spank the ever-loving shit out of her perfect little ass.
“You know nothing about me, Raider Hannigan.”
I knew more about this female than any other female on the planet. Like how she always nibbled on her thumbnail when she was thinking hard. Or how she had one lock of hair that was always longer than the rest, and when she wore her hair down, it curled perfectly down her back. I knew that she hummed soft rock music when she was working, and that her favorite thing to eat was Aggie’s crack brownies. I even knew that her left brow arched higher than the right when she was surprised or pissed.