Chaos Bound (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #4)(100)

“For me, darlin’. Come for me.” He slid one hand between them and slicked her juices over her clit.

Naiya cried out as pleasure crashed through her, a burst of lightening that electrified her body. She sagged against Holt, and his grip tightened. He thrust into her, ratcheting up his pace, his deep thrusts drawing out her orgasm. He came with a raw, guttural groan, his cock pumping hot and hard inside her, the pain of his grip overshadowed by the pleasure of their mutual release.

She melted against him, warm in the fragrant water. She had never felt as complete as she did at this moment; never felt she really belonged until she’d stepped into the circle of his arms.

“I love you, Naiya.” He stroked his hand down her back. “Never thought I had it in me to love someone after my sister died. But you were made for me. We fit together. I don’t regret a single moment I spent with you.”

He loved her, and yet he wanted to throw that love away. He had survived, and yet it was clear he planned to throw his life away. Well, she wouldn’t let him do it.

He might think it was good-bye forever. But it was just good-bye for now.





TWENTY-EIGHT





TANK


When Tank turned the corner onto Sandy Lake’s Main Street, he was engulfed in motorcycles. He slowed his stride, drinking in the shops decorated with the rally colors of black and gold, the welcome banner flapping overhead in the breeze. Hundreds of bikers lined the street to watch the parade of bikes that was a custom for everyone joining the rally. Hands in the pockets of his cut, he wove his way through the crowds and along the rows of vendor stalls, selling rally T-shirts and hats, bike gear, and souvenirs, searching for Holt. He’d received a text from Ella late last night asking him to meet her this morning, and, of course, Holt said he would come.

He pushed thoughts of Ella aside when he spotted Holt waiting for him inside the Sandy Lake Café. A wave of nostalgia hit him hard when he saw the waitress lean down and whisper in Holt’s ear. They’d partied with that pretty waitress last year at the campground outside of town where the real party would start tonight. Although they’d both put on their best moves, she’d spent the night with Sparky, and he and Holt had made a bet about who would get her into bed this year.

Had it really only been a year since he and Holt had nothing more important to worry about than their next lay and their next job for the club? He felt a hundred years old now, aged by the loss of his best friend, and the realization that although Holt had returned, he was nothing like the man he had been before.

Holt looked up and waved a greeting when Tank walked into the café.

Tank joined him at the white Formica counter. “Hey, bro—”

“I got your text,” Holt said abruptly. “Where does Ella want to meet?”

“She’s in the Majestic Plaza Hotel.” Tank looked over Holt’s shoulder and frowned. “Where’s Naiya?”

“Back at our hotel. Shaggy’s keeping watch. I don’t want her wandering the streets. I left her a note telling her to wait for you. After we deal with Ella, you can take her up to the roof. I figure by then everything should be in motion.”

Tank shifted uneasily in his seat. “You don’t have to come with me. I mean … you’ve got more important things to do. I’ll understand.”

“There is nothing more important to me than you and Naiya,” Holt assured him. “I’ve got your back like always. We’ll deal with this bitch together.”

Emotion welled up in Tank’s chest. “She’s a f*cking shark. Or maybe a snake. I can’t keep up with her. She always seems to be two steps ahead of me, and when I start asking questions, she whips off her clothes, and I can’t think about anything but f*cking her. She’s f*cking hot, man. Beautiful, but dangerous.”

“So the f*ck am I.” Holt threw a few bills on the counter. Tank laughed, letting some of his tension go as they walked out of the café.

“Not pretty enough, brother. If I recall she dumped a beer on your head when you tried to get her into bed.” Tank skirted around a group of Skull Crackers who had recently pledged allegiance to the Sinners.

“I pissed her off on purpose,” Holt said. “She made my f*cking skin crawl. At some point I decided the challenge wasn’t worth the risk.”

If Tank were as perceptive as Holt, he wouldn’t be in this mess, but he’d been a long time without a woman and with Holt gone, he’d suffered again from the lack of self-esteem that had plagued him since he was a kid. “She’s stacked, man. Tits out to here. Curves all over the place. Her skin is so f*cking soft and smooth. Her hair is always perfect. She’s like a doll. I never had a woman like her. Never thought I was worth—”

“Don’t say it.” Holt cut him off with a bark. “You’re worth fifty f*cking Ellas. No. One hundred. One thousand.” Holt turned down a side street, and they made their way down the back alleys to the Majestic, a ten-story hotel overlooking Sandy Lake. “She’s not even worth the time it would take to f*ck her.”

“That’s not gonna be an issue,” Tank mumbled as he took in the lavish gold-and-red reception area, the huge crystal chandelier and the slick marble floors. “I’m more worried about keeping my dick around her than using it.”