Fight(22)

That was it for me.

I was going to do it. I was going to f*ck her.

I needed to f*ck her.

But then Winter grabbed my wrist.

“Right there!” she cried out. “Oh, f*ck, Tripp! Right there!”

If that’s what she wanted.

I dug and twisted my thumb against the pearly nub of her clit as my two fingers pressed deeper into her body. I curled my fingers, slid them out of her slickness, and plunged right back in. I was on my knees, watching this beautiful woman thrusting her hips, making her breasts dance right before my eyes. Her eyes were shut, her right hand clawing at the carpet, her left hand still holding my wrist.

The faster she moved, the harder I dug at her *. Her sweet smell started to fill the room, leaving my mouth hungry and my dick pressing even harder to my jeans. I was not this kind of guy at all. Not the kind to hold back like this and watch. I should have been inside her already. But she wanted this.

“Yes,” she purred over and over.

Her body jerked up, down, left, right. Like it was becoming too much for her.

Her right hand moved from the carpet, climbing up my shirt and pulling. That’s when she let out a scream. Her back arched and she started to wiggle those goddamn hips hard and fast. My left hand grabbed at her waist as my right hand continued to do all the work. She climaxed with her heels dug into the floor and her * throbbing around my fingers. Squeezing at me, releasing a warmth and wetness that seemed too impossible to be real. A woman like Winter couldn’t go that long without being properly touched.

I eased her down and then moved my hands away from her body. I took her jeans completely off and then scooped her up off the floor. Her drunk eyes met mine and she kissed me. A wild and messy kiss.

As I put her on the bed, I killed the kiss.

“Sleep,” I whispered.

“Tripp…”

I reached for the light and turned it off.

“Just sleep, darling,” I said.

I reached down and touched Winter’s cheek.

I was supposed to be protecting her, and now we had entered a very dangerous and deadly game.





14.


(Winter)



I sat on top of a picnic table, listening to the sound of punches hitting sweaty skin. The unique thud, smack sound had been forever tattooed in my mind. It was two prospects just messing around, throwing lefts and rights, taking and giving a few punches. The guys surrounding them were drunk, high, and cheering for more punches. Sometimes the MC did things like this. They would split up into groups and place bets with each other on the prospects.

Of course there were times when the fights were more serious and had more meaning. Money, respect, or just a set up as a diversion for something else.

That’s why it bothered me that Tripp was going to fight Harlan. It didn’t make sense. Yeah, it was a manly pride thing, but whatever. Maybe Tripp thought I was safer with all the Red Aces around, but truthfully, I felt safer with just Tripp. Not to mention when Tripp and I were alone, there was heat. Instant heat.

I couldn’t get him out of my mind either. Not with what he had done to me. The way he kissed me, nibbled at my neck, my breast, the way his fingers knew just where to touch and how. It had been impossibly long since someone touched me like that. Maybe never in my life. To have someone just go for me like that and it worked. It made my toes curl in my shoes just thinking about the way he made me come.

The prospect fight was finally called when one of the guys landed a right hook and knocked the other to his knees.

“Kick him in the f*cking ribs!” Stoney bellowed from the side.

But the prospect didn’t. He helped the other guy back up and they left the makeshift circle. Everyone started to boo and then laughed.

Stoney stepped into the circle and started to talk. It was all bullshit stuff at first. About the MC. About the memory of Rocky. How they were closing in on some ideas and were going to get revenge. Oh, and in Rocky’s honor, Stoney wasn’t going to choose a new VP until Rocky’s killer was taken down.

I let his voice fade out as my eyes searched for Tripp.

But all I found was Sarah.

She walked with two beers and offered me one. “Peace offering.”

“Peace? Didn’t know we were at war.”

“Well, our guys are fighting,” she said.

“Your guy is fighting,” I said. “Tripp is not my guy.”

Sarah climbed up on the table and sat next to me. “Then what’s that?”

“What?”

Sarah touched my neck. “Looks like…”

I moved my hair.

Shit.

Tripp had nibbled a little too hard on my neck. And, yeah, there was a mark there.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You wild thing. You’re f*cking the guy that’s supposed to be protecting you.”

“I am not f*cking him,” I said. “I can say that with a straight face.”

Sarah grinned. “So he’s just doing all the work then.”

“No comment.”

Sarah giggled. “Hey, this isn’t going to hurt us, right? I mean, these two fighting. I know Tripp beat Harlan up already. He hasn’t been able to get over it. I mean, everyday he talks about it. That he was jumped…”

“Well, he wasn’t jumped,” I said. “I’m not going to argue with you. But Harlan had no business being in my house with the lights off and a gun on his lap.”