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Authors: Natasha Thomas

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction

Captive (25 page)

BOOK: Captive
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With a warning look that tells me to stay the hell put, Max covers himself with the sheet that was dipping dangerously low on his hips. I pick up on what he’s doing instantly; he’s creating enough of a distraction for me to gain more ground, hopefully reaching for my purse before Beth notices. Clever man.

 

Once I’m close enough I reach inside slowly moving my hand so as not to make any noise. Feeling the grip of my SIG Sauer P220 in my palm I let out a silent sigh of relief. Withdrawing it I place it between the mattress and box spring base, barrel first. My weapon of choice might not be capable of firing off as many rounds, but the eight it does will pack a hell of a punch, unlike the compact she’s sporting.

 

Safe in the knowledge that I can access it if I need to, I want know why Beth’s here in the first place. From what I’ve gathered Max hasn’t had anything to do with her for a good long while, and none of the women attached to the club are particularly fond of her either.

“So why are you here, Beth? What could possibly convince you that walking into an MC clubhouse armed during an eleven-year-olds birthday party would be an intelligent idea?”

 

She lets out a bark of laughter that holds not a hint of amusement.

“You really are fucking stupid aren’t you? I can’t believe after all this time none of you put it together, it’s been what? Nearly four years? Five?”

 

Max sounds as confused as I am when he snarls,

“I’m going to give you one chance, Beth. One chance to put the gun down and get the fuck out of here before all holy hell breaks loose, and you never see this side of a prison cell again.”

 

Her laughter escalates to hysterics, and that’s when I know Beth never intended to leave here alive. She never had any intention of getting caught and taken into custody. And that make her a very fucking dangerous woman. Max seems to come to the same conclusion within seconds of me, and squeezes my ankle gently in reassurance. I’m not sure anything can reassure me right now, not unless the full-force of the MC charges in armed to the teeth, but the likelihood of that happening is slim to none, so we’ll have to work with what we’ve got.

 

“Can I get dressed if you want to talk? I don’t feel comfortable sitting around naked having a conversation with an armed woman.” I enquire.

 

“No, you can’t. I’m not taking any chances with you alerting someone before I’m good and ready.” Just as I thought, she doesn’t plan on being alive to walk out of here. Double great.

 

I know I’m pushing her, but you can call it curiosity, call it the need for confirmation, you can call it anything you want when I ask,

“Is this about me and Max, or is there more to it than that? You haven’t been together with him for an awfully long time to be torn up enough about it to pull a gun on an SAA for a motorcycle club, Beth. So what gives?”

 

Striding toward me angrily she stops a foot away and slaps me across the face. Hard. Max’s muscles twitch, and I can see he’s coiled tight, spoiling for a fight. With a small discreet shake of my head I hope I’m relaying for him to stand down. Taking a step back, enough to create some distance for her to look down at me from her position diagonally across from me, but not enough to give me the leverage to kick her ass she says,

“I’ll cut to the chase, because I’m sure your lackeys will be around soon,” she assumes with a grin. I fucking hope so otherwise we’re literally up shit creek without a paddle.

 

Settling herself in the chair close to the bed in the corner, Beth keeps her eyes trained on us, but she looks lost in thought.

“I met Leo when I was working at Mo’s. I was twenty and he was seventeen. He basically pursued me until I gave in and went out on a date with him. Leo was sweet, kind, and attentive, I thought I had lucked out in the man lotto until I found out the truth.” Beth takes a deep breath in through her nose and goes on. “We dated for a while moving in together after six months. Everything was perfect, and after two years I thought he was getting ready to propose to me. That was until I found him in his room here at the clubhouse fucking some common whore. That day I learned he wasn’t sweet or kind like I thought, he was just like every other manipulative bastard he was just the same.”

 

Wow! I’m not making excuses for him, because there is absolutely no excuse to cheat on your partner, but I can’t help thinking Trig was only nineteen. He was a member, or almost member of an MC, and pussy is on tap for these guys, most men would be hard pressed to turn down an offer of easy, willing, no-strings sex.

“I packed up and left the same day. I left Blackwater, and didn’t return for a decade. When I did I found a job at Chasers working as their receptionist, and thankfully managed to stay clear of Leo altogether. I mean we crossed paths occasionally, but he figured out pretty quickly not to approach me, that’s when I met Reaper.”

 

My skin prickles at the sound of her using his name. The only redeeming point is that she’s not calling him Max and she won’t either. No one is allowed to call him by his first name except me, and I’m only exempt from having my ass kicked by him because he was the one who demanded I call him that in the first place.

“I don’t trust men, so Reaper was the perfect candidate to scratch my itches with,” she says grinning evilly at me. “He’s got a huge cock and knows how to use it, his tongue is magic, and he didn’t expect me to dote on him like one of the stupid old ladies I’ve seen around here. I didn’t think I’d ever want a relationship with him, and for the most part I didn’t. But when I realised I was never going to get the respect I deserve being a booty call, and nothing else, I started asking him to be official. Not once did I think he would be monogamous, so it came as a pleasant surprise when he was…until you fucking came to town that is, Adelyn.”

 

Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. I’m not going to nit-pick over the details of her story, but I highly doubt Max ever agreed to be something as high school as boyfriend and girlfriend with Beth. Sure, he might not have told her no in so many words, but I’d bet my big toe he wasn’t on the same page as she was. Neither Max nor I see fit to correct her, so she goes on uninterrupted.

“When he came to me and told me he had cheated on me, with you of all people, it didn’t matter. I knew it was only a matter of time before it happened, and I had already been offered the opportunity to teach you a lesson by this point.”

 

“What the fuck are you going on about? What opportunity?” Max growls. He’s getting frustrated, so am I, but him going all psycho hulk on her isn’t going to help anything.

 

“Let her finish, Max,” I say as calmly as I can hoping to soothe his ragged nerves.

 

Gesturing to me Beth gloats,

“Yes, listen to your girlfriend, Reaper, let me finish. I can guarantee you it only gets more interesting from here on out.” Max twitches beside me and I take the opportunity to link our fingers loosely together. “As I was saying, an opportunity presented itself in the form of Mr. and Mrs. Bryson approaching me to take care of a little problem for them.” Wagging her finger at me she chides, “Apparently Adelyn here had their son murdered in cold blood by some thugs, so obviously they were seeking retribution for such a horrible turn of event.”

 

This time it isn’t a shiver of pleasure that rock my body, it’s one of revulsion. Seeing it Beth smiles widely.

“The only thing that bothered me about the whole thing was how they knew I’d be interested in helping them. Later I found out they had been following you for some time, leaving notes and gifts for you. It was easy enough to pick up where they left off, I mean you are a creature of habit, so you made it a piece of cake to predict when you wouldn’t be home.” Snorting Beth shakes her head. “I am sorry about your dog though, he was a cute puppy.”

 

Fucking bitch. It always bothered me that someone would hurt an innocent animal the way she had. Why not tie him up, do any number of things to keep him quiet? Why did she have to kill him, especially like that?

“I didn’t intend to stab him so many times, he just wouldn’t stop trying to bark, and the whining. Oh my God, the whining. I needed him to be quiet, so I made it happen. That said, you,” She says pointing at me, “You I did intend to kill.”

 

It’s now I have to practically sit on Max to keep him on the bed. He’s growling low in his throat like the dangerous predator he is, and I don’t think Beth realises how close he is to getting up and tearing her apart with his bare hands.  Don’t think at this level of rage, with this much adrenaline pumping through his blood even a bullet would stop him, and I know it’s only going to get worse. Her story that is. Whispering in his ear I beg,

“Please, please don’t. Just this once trust me, Max.” The subtle tilt of his head indicates he heard me and he’s considering it. It’s the best I can hope for in the circumstances so I’ll take it.

 

“Anyway, it was a stroke of luck in your favor that I couldn’t follow through with what I had planned for that night. You kept moving, and I had no idea when Leo would come to check on you, so I had to leave before I could finish.” She looks almost sad when she recounts the next part. “I didn’t mean to kill Leo, honestly I didn’t. I wasn’t there for him. I heard you and he had broken up, so it was safe to assume he wouldn’t be there anymore. How was I to know he was still staying with you?”

 

That’s all I needed to hear. Leaning back making it appear as if I’m stretching, I grip my SIG making sure it’s firmly situated in my palm. The kickback on this baby is a bitch. Not bothering with modesty I rise to my knees, take aim, and fire. One single round leaves the chamber, and if you know anything about guns and ammunition you know that a 10mm hollow point bullet, fired from a semi-automatic pistol like the SIG P220, from a distance of less than six feet will explode a human skull like a watermelon. So I’m not shocked when Beth is reduced to blood and brain matter splattered all over Max’s wall.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Max

 

“Cursed is the man who dies,

But the evil done by him survives.”

-
      
Abu Bakr

 

I’ve never loved Adelyn more than when she pulled the trigger ending Beth’s life. It might sound like a fucked up thing to say, but it doesn’t make it any less true. The bitch was insane, rabid, and she needed to be put down like the animal she was. Hearing her openly, and happily admit to killing my baby girl nearly sent me over the edge into a fit of rage the like I’d never experienced before. If it wasn’t for Adelyn beside me, calming my beast, asking me to trust her I don’t doubt I would’ve done something to put us both at risk, like rip her fucking throat out maybe.

 

That solitary perfectly delivered bullet brought every brother within a square mile radius running. Women and kids were locked down, brothers were armed to the teeth. Tank was even packing a fucking Uzi for Christ’s sake when he walked through the door to my room, overkill yes, but it was good to know they had mine and my woman’s back if we needed them.

 

Hours later after what felt like retelling the series of events a thousand times, not only to Priest and Pipe, but my other brothers, the cops, and a few of the women, Adelyn and I were finally released from the police station with the warning not to leave town. I wasn’t worried at the veiled reference to possible prosecution for killing Beth, I knew our stories would match with crime scene, her fingerprints on the gun, and the ones collected from the internal and external doors at Adelyn’s form months ago. Fingerprints that had no business being there.

 

Taking my woman home was bitter sweet. While I wanted nothing more than to have her in my bed, I hated the thought that Beth had ever been in my house, and there was no way after what happened at hers I could ever stay there. We made do that first night, but by ten o’clock the next morning I had a realtor on the phone, and viewings set up for later that afternoon.

 

Adelyn didn’t argue with me over it, she took it in her stride like the champion she is. I think for the most part she was humouring my neurosis over our living situation, but when I found the perfect, (in her eyes, me, I could care less as long as we were together), four bed, three bath, fully-renovated and modernised barn, she practically forced my hand to sign on the dotted line. There was no question my Angel would be moving in with me after seeing where she’d be living. She fell in love with place at first sight, and that hasn’t changed in the last eight months, so if she’s happy I’m fucking golden.

 

“Angel, where the fuck are you? We were supposed to be out of here twenty minutes ago.” There were a few things I’d forgotten about living with a woman, and one of those was they were notoriously late for fucking everything. Usually I would give a shit how late we’re running, especially when ninety percent of the time it’s my doing. I still hold on to the excuse that it’s not my fault she’s so fucking sexy and I want to be buried inside her tight, wet pussy 24/7. Adelyn doesn’t agree, but that’s neither here nor there. As long as I get to fuck her where, when, and how I want, we can be late as often as possible.

 

“I’m coming, keep your shirt on,” she yells earning a chuckle from me.

 

“But you like it when I take my shirt off, Angel.” Scowling as she stomps down the stairs I raise a brow at what she wearing and ask, “Are you fucking kidding me with that outfit right now?”

 

Jesus Christ, this woman is going to kill me before I’m fifty-five. With a pair of Doc Martens that have seen better days in one hand and her purse in the other, Adelyn is wearing light denim jeans that are so worn in places they look white, rips in the knees and one high up on her thigh, they fit her like a glove and accentuate the curves I love gripping when I fuck her from behind. Her delicious tits are straining against the confines of the Devil’s Spawn supporter T-shirt she’s wearing, and I know she isn’t wearing panties underneath her jeans, so that lead me to wonder what sexy fucking bra she’s got on today.

 

I may or may not have burned every pair of panties she owned when a couple of my brothers showed up one day, and she was only dressed in one of my T’s and her lacy boy shorts. She debated the merits of burning them, and I’ll say now she made a compelling argument, even threatening to walk around naked in front of them if I followed through with my asinine decision.

 

After bending her over my lap, spanking her sweet ass, and then filling her mouth with my cock I explained that if she had no panties she’d have to get dressed in jeans or sweats when we had visitors. Explaining that this would make me less inclined to feel like committing multiple homicide perpetrated against my brothers, she agreed by sucking my cock until I blew most of my load into the back of her throat, and the rest all over her pretty tits. I, being the gracious man I am, repaid her by eating her pussy and finger fucking her hard until she came all over my face, screaming my name. Needless to say, we had a panty burning ceremony later that night, and to soften the impact of her loss I bent her over the outdoor table while the fire burned bright giving off more than enough heat to combat the chilly winter temperature, and fucked her from behind.

 

Reliving memories like that has me adjusting myself in my jeans. If she doesn’t get her cute ass upstairs quick, and change out of her fuck me jeans I’ll be reliving those memories in real-time shortly.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She asks looking down puzzled.

 

Pulling her into my arms linking them in a tight band around her I answer,

“Nothing if you don’t mind me tearing them off you, tying you to the staircase with them, and fucking your ass so hard you can’t sit for a week, Angel.”

 

Gasping she tries to look affronted, but it doesn’t work. I can see the heat flare in her eyes, the uneven breaths, her pulse fluttering wildly at the base of her neck, she’s so turned on I bet I could use all that sweet cum she’s leaking for me, lube up my cock, and slide into her ass without pause. The thought has my cock jumping in my jeans straining to get closer to her.

 

Inhaling her scent through my nose I wedge my thigh between her legs and rub firmly.

“You like that idea, baby? You like the thought of me pumping into your dripping cunt a few times, getting my cock nice and slippery for you, and then plunging deep into your tight, round ass?” A whimper lets me know my woman is getting desperate. She’ll be pulling my hair, biting, scratching, begging me to make her cum soon. And that’s exactly how I want her; wet, begging, and ready to take my cock how I want to give it to her.

 

Talking dirty to Adelyn is guaranteed to have her submitting to my every filthy suggestion. By telling her exactly what I want to do to her in explicit, erotic detail. I’ve had her restrained on my bike while I fucked her mouth, played with her pussy, all while not letting her come for an hour and a half. When I did it was fucking beautiful. The intensity of her climax had me licking her to mid-thigh that’s how hard she came. I’ve taken her ass while I fucked her pussy with a vibrator I found in her nightstand, pulling out and cumming all over her back. But my favorite way to get Adelyn’s motor running is to have her on her knees in front of me looking me in the eyes while she deep throats me. When I’m close I take over and fill her mouth with my cock until she’s gagging. By the time I’m ready to cum you can be assured she’s got her hand between her legs fingering herself, her shirt off, and her tits ready to take my load. Adelyn loves my quirks, and rubbing my cum into her skin, marking her as mine isn’t any different.

 

Putting added pressure on the seam of her jeans, which is pressing against her bare clit I keep going.

“Do you want me to cum deep inside your ass, baby, or do you want me to pull out and cum all over your pretty, pink pussy?”

 

Grabbing my cock through my jeans she gives it a nice hard squeeze while I keep adding more and more pressure to her clit.

“My pussy. I want you to cum on my pussy.”

 

Because I’m a sadistic bastard, and it’s a proven fact that even though it’s only barely, I’ve got better self-control than Adelyn I demand,

“Then ask me nicely. Say please Max fuck my ass, and cum on my pussy.”

 

She repeats the words I want to hear, and I reward her for it.

“Take off your jeans, shirt and bra, stand at the base of the stairs, and put your hands on the third step, Angel. Get ready for me. Touch your pussy, but don’t you dare cum.”

 

Adelyn knows the drill. If she makes herself cum without me in her mouth, ass, or cunt I’ll finish, but I won’t let her. Doing exactly as I say without hesitation I watch as her delicate fingers part the swollen lips of her pussy, teasing, testing, spreading her cream I can see leaking down her inner thighs.

 

Don't be fooled, I might be in control of the directing her, telling her what I want, but Adelyn is firmly in control of me. She owns my ass, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. She's knows exactly how far to push me before I snap. She knows that if she pushed those clever little fingers inside herself right now we won't make it to me taking her ass, because my cock will get jealous of where her hand's been, and want to go there himself. No lie. It's happened more often than I like to confess to.

 

Giving me a naughty smile over her shoulder, Adelyn goes about wrecking me. Doing what I predicted she pushes three fingers inside her pussy using the other hand to spread her lower lips wide, all while resting on her elbow on the stairs. Watching her fuck herself comes a close second to watching her suck me off. It's erotic as hell. As I look on, salivating, her fingers pick up the pace, and she begins to moan. Of course she has to take today's impromptu demonstration up a notch, testing the limits of my patience.

 

With three fingers opening her channel wide, the view is stunning. Her slit is dripping, literally dripping down her hand collecting near her wrist. The fingers that were tugging on her distended clit are now swiping the wetness off her thighs rubbing it into area around her perfect puckered rosette.

 

I apply pressure to my cock to try and get it to calm the fuck down long enough to finish the show, this is too good to miss by being greedy. Seeing a woman take her own pleasure, wring an orgasm from herself with her own hand is one of the sexiest things you can watch.

 

The first time I saw a woman finger herself I was seventeen, horny, and at Kitty Kat's. Thankfully being a position holding members’ son afforded me some privileges other guys didn't get. Rhonda, a tall redhead with legs for days, tits that overflowed my hands, and the first bare pussy I'd ever seen had taken me back into one of the private rooms for a lap dance, just one of the perks of being me. When she had me hard enough to contemplate jerking off for the first time in front of a woman she sat on the floor in front of me, peeled her barely there thong down her legs, spread wide, and shoved four fingers into her drenched cunt.

 

I remember being proud as fuck I'd made her that wet, I wanted to taste her, lap up all that cream I'd had a hand in making, but she told me to sit still, take my cock out of my jeans, and start stroking while she watched. She claimed she wanted to see if I was as big as I felt. I assured her I was, that she didn't need me to prove it, but she was determined, and I was young and bordering on desperate to cum. When she promised she'd make the ending good for me I couldn't refuse anymore.

 

I'd got my Jacobs Ladder piercings the year before, and the seven bars down the shaft of my dick made it overly sensitive, and unless I was careful it wouldn't make it out of my jeans before I was embarrassing myself. Rhonda was my first foray into the world of selective domination too. I say selective because I don't need it. It's nice to control mine and Adelyn's sexual escapades sometimes, but I don't need to in order to get off.

 

Rhonda showed me the art of making a woman beg, how to touch her so she would scream for me, what to do to make it easier to penetrate their ass, how fuck their pussy at the same time as sliding a vibrating bullet egg into their ass. She showed me how to lick a woman's pussy until she shook with the need to cum, and where to press my fingers to make her simultaneously orgasm vaginally and anally.

 

It was a wild ride, and that first day, after watching her pussy bloom like a flower, her lower lips get puffy, darken in colour, the wetness she was playing in increase, and her clit turn into a hard bud, I dropped to my knees bit her clit, and sucked her dry. Rhonda returned the favor by giving me my first taste of being deep throated by a woman, and how much I liked to cum on a woman's face.

 

While those memories were the beginning of my experimenting with dirty, nasty sex, what Adelyn and I have is a perfect union of what she needs, what turns her on, what I can give her that no one else can, and what she can give me I can't get anywhere else nor would I want to. She fits me perfectly. Not just her pussy, but her kinks, what makes her hot, all of it, we both get off on the same things, and if that doesn't make me the luckiest son of a bitch alive I don't know what does.

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