Captured (Devil's Blaze MC #1)(14)

“Hey, man. Sabre and Torch back yet?”

“No, not yet, but Sabre checked in about twenty minutes ago and said the package was delivered.”

I nod. Well, that’s one good thing for the day. Let’s see if the Donahues can ignore that shit. Bastards. Scarlett, one of the club girls, comes over and my body goes tight.

“Skull,” she purrs, setting my nerves on end. Her body pushes up against mine, her breasts against my arm. My dick doesn’t even move. It’s like the damn thing is broken. I know the truth, though. I only want Beth. No other * will do. It’s a temporary thing. I’ve always had a healthy appetite for sex. I just need to f*ck Beth out of my system and get back to normal.

That begins tomorrow. “Hey, Scarlett.”

“I’ve been a bad girl. I need to be punished.”

And the dick… still doesn’t move.

“Tell me you’re not that big of a f*cking idiot!” Pistol yells from across the room, marching in and slamming the door. He strides over to me and, as much as I want to kill him, I’m grateful he gets me out of the mess with Scarlett.

“Another time, pet. Another time,” I tell her before turning all of my attention to the man I’m going to kill before the month is out. I just know it in my gut. He’s pushing me too far. I turn around and face him like I’m bored, then wait.

“You had Torch tell the Donahues that unless they agree to meet with us, you’re confiscating their next delivery? Are you loco or just f*cking stupid?”

“I do not like being ignored. I needed to get a message across.”

“Oh, you’ll achieve that. You’ll get every f*cking one of us killed!”

That’s when I snap. I strike so fast he doesn’t see me. A quick kick with my steel-toed boots knocks him to the ground, giving me time to get up. While he’s holding his damn dick, I stomp his ribs—I’m not sure how many times. Could be three, maybe four… it’s so fun that I lost count. I have a lot of anger inside of me right now, and this motherf*cker just tipped me over. I grab him by his damn cut and slam my fist into his nose, the same fist which happens to have my rings on each finger—skulls, of course. Blood splatters out and Pistol groans, but I’ve been so fast and hard on beating him down that he honestly can’t do much by this point.

“Has ido a hermano ahora,” I tell him, my voice laced with disgust. You’ve gone too far, brother. Even the words annoy the f*ck out of me. He’s not my brother, but he sure as hell went way beyond too far. I slam his head hard against the thick wooden bar. The bottles and glasses rattle in response. Any resistance left in Pistol is gone as he loses consciousness. I drop him to the ground. “Beast?” I call, looking at the pathetic pile on the ground.

“Yeah, Boss?” Beast lifts his bitch of an old lady off his lap. She must need money again; it’s the only time we see her around here. Why Beast keeps fooling with her f*cking ass, I don’t know. Ain’t no * worth the shit he’s gone through with her.

“Lock him in his room. Have the prospects guard him. He doesn’t go for a shit, unless I know about it. Then, contact Spike in Florida and tell him I need to talk to him. We’ll have Church after I talk with the f*cker’s brother.”

“Damn… Gone so long without war and now we have two,” Beast mumbles, dragging Pistol away.

“You got a problem with it?” I ask Beast because I respect him. This wasn’t something I could bring before the Church. I’m president. This is my club. I’m not asking anybody for permission and I won’t tolerate disrespect. I’ve tolerated it for too long with Pistol. That ends tonight.

“Been a long time coming, Boss. I’m just thinking shit might get a little too interesting around here.”

He’s probably not wrong. I’ll have to call in a few markers from our other chapters and talk with some of my allies. It’s time to circle the damn wagons. My taste for the drink gone, I leave the bar and head off to my room. I lock the door and make it to my bed. This place is like an apartment of sorts. It has my office and two doors. One is a regular door, which leads to my bedroom with a connected bath, and the other is a steel-reinforced door that is the back exit of the club. Both stay bolted, and I’m the only motherf*cker with the key.

I’m too f*cking keyed up. I yank off my cut and shirt and throw them into the chair by my bed. I undo my pants and zipper, leaving them hanging low on my hips. I’ll need to go back out and deal with shit once I know the response to my message. Right now, I just want to be by myself and drink. I grab a half-empty bottle of vodka on the nightstand and open it before taking a swig and falling back on the pillows.

My mind should be anywhere but on Beth right now—but she’s all I can think of. Even now, I can remember the feel of her sweet cunt. Hot and wet, sucking my fingers in so eagerly. My cock swells with need, and I regret not forcing her to come back with me. I try to tell my body: tomorrow, just twenty-four hours. Then I remember the way her cream felt clinging to my fingers, and f*ck, her sweet taste.

Being a man who has always enjoyed sex—perhaps too much—you would think that the taste of * would all be the same. That’s not the way it is, though. Each one has a special essence, a special flavor. But Beth… Beth is unlike any woman I have ever tasted. She’s indescribable, and something I must have over and over. My balls ache from the need to come. I slide my hand around my cock, choking it tightly in my hand, trying to stem the need inside of me. Instead, translucent strands of pre-cum slide from the head, trailing down the shaft and onto my hand. I lean back on my pillow and close my eyes. Beth’s face immediately comes to mind. Her lips swollen from my kisses, her sweet pink tongue coming out to tempt me, and her hair tangled around her face because I’ve held it tight in my hands… I can hear her sweet voice whisper my name… Skull…