Gravel (MC Biker Romance) (17 page)

BOOK: Gravel (MC Biker Romance)
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His mouth lowered down onto my
breasts and he lavished each one with licks, bites, and sucks as he continued
plowing my pussy.

 

I completely relaxed every fiber of
my being and gave myself wholly to him. My body was his. My heart was his. I
was his.

 

After several more minutes of hardcore
fucking, I felt his cock begin to pulse and his
body stiffen
.
He unloaded himself into me, but I had a feeling he was unloading a lot more
than his seed. He collapsed on top of me, freeing my wrists, and rolled over on
the bed.

 

His arms rested on his belly as he
attempted to catch his breath. I closed my legs and spread out a little bit. My
body was hot and sticky, and I needed to cool off. As we
laid
there, naked and heaving, he rolled back over to me and placed one hand down at
my pussy. His thick, meaty fingers slipped between my slit, and he placed two
of them inside me.

 

With two fingers
inside
me and his thumb massaging my clit,
he began to go to town. I was
usually not a fan of finger action, but the way Raze did it was different. He
was amazing at it and knew how to tickle my g-spot and my clit at the exact
same time. I relaxed, spreading my knees apart as much as possible, and waited
for the wave of ecstasy to wash over me. It didn’t take long before I was
convulsing like a crazy woman and surrendering to the sheer delight that
overcame me.

 

“Oh, my god,” I said as I rested
one arm across my naked, heaving breasts. “That was incredible.”

 

Raze cracked a sly, satisfied smile
as he retracted his hand and moved it up to my belly. I was quickly cooling off
after not being under his body anymore, and the
cool,
hotel air had made my nipples as hard as ever. I watched him stare at my body,
and he seemed to be mesmerized.

 

“You’re beautiful, Mia,” he said as
his fingers traced my skin.

 

“Really?” I asked. What girl didn’t
love that extra reassurance from her man?

 

“Yes,” he insisted. “Your milky,
creamy skin. It’s flawless.
And your smile.
Those
breasts. That ass.”

 

I began to blush. “Stop it.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
CHAPTER 10
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

As we
laid
in bed together, Raze placed his hand on my hip and pulled me closer to him,
gifting me with a sweet peck on the cheek.

 

“Raze?” I asked.

 

“Yeah,” he replied.

 

“I feel like I barely know you,” I
admitted. Things had moved entirely too fast, not that I had any regrets, but
now I felt like we needed to make up for lost time.

 

“Understandable,” he nodded. “You
do barely know me. I barely know you.”

 

“Let’s fix that,” I said with a
smile as I stared into his cool, blue eyes. “When’s your birthday? I don’t even
know your birthday. That just seems so odd given all we’ve been through
together.”

 

“Ha,” he laughed. “December 25
th
.”

 

“You were a Christmas baby?” I
cooed. “That’s adorable. Mine’s boring old April 7
th
.”

 

He laid there in silence, and I
realized it was going to take a bit of work on my part to eek out any
additional information from him. He was a closed book, which I found both sexy
and frustrating all at the same time.

 

“So where were you born?” I asked.

 

“Anaheim, California,” he said.

 

“Tell me about your mom,” I said.
By now I had sat up a little, resting my face on his chest. I was growing
excited, and I was pretty sure I looked like a kid who really wanted to hear a
bedtime story.

 

“Her name was Marcia,” he said. “I
don’t remember a ton about her. Just a little bit.”

 

“Why’s that?” I asked. Raze was an
onion, and I was just beginning to peel back the layers.

 

“She died when I was five,” he said
with no emotion whatsoever.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I
said as I rubbed his arm. “Can I ask how?”

 

He shifted around uncomfortably for
a bit, and I could tell my question was not one he was fond of answering. Or
maybe he just didn’t talk about it. It was hard to tell.

 

“You don’t have to answer if you
don’t want to,” I assured him. “It’s none of my business.”

 

“No, it’s fine,” he said. “I just
don’t talk about it much.”

 

“So what happened?” I asked again.

 

He bit his lip. “My dad said it was
cancer, but I have reason to believe otherwise.”

 

“Oh, yeah?”

 

“I think a rival gang put a hit on
her,” he said. “What better trophy to have than the blood of the wife of a
rival MC President?”

 

“Do you have proof?” I asked.

 

“I’ve heard stories,” he said. “And
I did find an article about a suspicious death that happened the day she died,
only it didn’t name any names since the investigation was still pending.”

 

“Weird.”

 

“The way that person died, their
age, the location,” he said. “It all seems to point to my mom. And I don’t have
any recollection of going to a hospital or seeing her sick or anything. You’d
think I’d remember something like that, right?”

 

“I’d think so, but then again you
were only five,” I countered. “It’s hard to say what you can and can’t remember
from that age.”

 

“I just remember that one day she
was there, and the next day my dad said she died,” he said with a far off look
in his eyes. “I remember the way she smelled. Like jasmine and gardenias.
And her smile.
We even had the same blue eyes. She had wild,
bushy blonde hair. And I remember her laugh. How can I remember those things
about her, but not remember if she was sick?”

 

“Maybe she tried to hide it from
you so you wouldn’t be upset?” I speculated.

 

“Maybe,” he said. “I mean
,
I hope she wasn’t killed. I hope she died in her sleep or
died so doped up on morphine that she didn’t feel a thing. That would be great.
I guess I’ll never know though.”

 

“You can’t worry about the past too
much,” I said. “Don’t let it consume you.”

 

“I know,” he sighed.

 

“Did you have an okay childhood
otherwise?” I asked.

 

“I was raised mostly by my
grandparents. After my mom died, my dad took off with his gang. I saw him a few
times a year, but I think my grandparents knew he was into shady things. I was
a shithead of a teenager though. Put them through absolute hell. When my dad
came knocking on my 18
th
birthday, I jumped at the chance to join
his gang,” he said. “I guess I just wanted to prove something to him.
To myself.
I wanted my dad to love me, and I figured it was
the only way.”

 

“Aw, Raze,” I moaned. He was more
broken than I ever could have imagined.

 

“I’ve never told anyone this stuff
before, Mia,” he said. “No one.”

 

I pretended to zip my lips. “Don’t
worry.”

 

“Nah, I mean it just feels good to
get it all off my chest,” he said. “It’s kind of freeing.”

 

“Good!” I leaned down and kissed
his smooth chest. I looked up at him and for a split second saw an innocent
little boy who’d been through the school of hard knocks instead of a grown man
covered in tattoos who could chew nails and spit them out like no one else
could.

 

“Enough about me,” he said as he
attempted to change the subject. “I’m tired of talking about my shitty
childhood. What was yours like?”

 

“Let’s see,” I began. “My mom was a
stay at home mom with four kids. I had a brother and two sisters. I was the
oldest. My dad worked in a factory. Sometimes temporary layoffs were a part of
life, which really sucked. I remember back to school shopping at Goodwill one
year. We lived in a two bedroom trailer until I was seven, then we moved to a
four bedroom, run down house that my parents fixed up over the span of several years.
By the time it was all fixed up, I was almost out of high school.”

 

“So you came from a working class
family,” he said. “Parents still married?”

 

“They are,” I replied.

 

“That’s good that you had that,” he
said. “I always wondered what it would’ve been like to have that typical,
all-American family growing up.”

 

“Oh, we were far from typical.
Trust me,” I laughed. “It might sound good from the outside, but you didn’t see
my dad down a case of beer each night and pass out by seven. You didn’t see my
little sister coming home knocked up at fifteen years old. My brother was
arrested three times by the time he turned nineteen. My mom was so doped up on
anti-depressants she was nothing more than a shell of her former self. We were
far from all-American.”

 

“How come you never left for
college or anything?” Raze asked. “You seem like a bright girl. Why work at
that sleazy motel?”

 

“I did go to college for a
semester,” I said. “It wasn’t for me. I got homesick. I fell behind. I didn’t
want to graduate with a mountain of student loans I’d never be able to repay,
so I left and came back home and got a job.”

 

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?”
he asked. “Like what do you want to do with your life?”

 

“I’d like to be a nurse,” I said.
“I know nursing school is hard, but if I could just find the right one, I think
I’d make it through. I want to be an E.R. nurse. I think it’d be exhilarating
and exciting and fulfilling. I want something fast-paced.”

 

“You should do it,” he said.

 

“What about you? What do you want
to be?” I asked.

 

“Honestly, I never thought about
it. I always thought I’d be in the MC the rest of my life and then take over
when my dad died,” he said as he stared up at the popcorn ceiling above us.

 

“Well, time to start thinking about
it,” I said.

 

“No kidding,” he snorted. “I don’t
know. I guess I probably don’t see myself going to college or anything. If I
could find a steady job at a factory or plant or something, I could do that. I
just want to be a provider. I don’t care if I hate the work or not.”

 

“You say that now,” I replied. “But
when you go to the factory day in and day out and are told what to do, when to
do it, when to piss, when to shit, and when to leave and all of that, it’ll get
old.”

 

“I never thought about that,” he
sighed. “I guess I could start up my own garage or something. I could fix
cycles.”

 

“Perfect,” I said as I rubbed his
smooth chest. “I could totally see you doing that.”

 

A genuine smile spread across
Raze’s
lips, and I knew for the first time in a long time,
he had some sort of hope for the future.

 

“We’re going to have a great life
together,” I said. “We can build it just the way we want it. We’ll go after
whatever we want, and we won’t let anything stop us. No dream will be too big
or too small.”

 

He turned his head towards me and
looked me straight in the eyes. “I’ve never told anyone this before, but I just
want an ordinary life. I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t want to have to
constantly check over my shoulder anymore. I want a wife.
A
couple of kids.
A dog. I want to go to work. Come home at five. Eat
dinner with my family and play catch in the yard with my kids.”

 

“I think that sounds amazing,” I
said.

 

“I’ve never wanted anything so
badly in my life,” he continued. “It’s the one thing I’ve never had –
stability.”

 

“Makes sense.”

 

“I think it’s what my mom would’ve
wanted for me,” he said. “I don’t think she’s looking down on me and beaming
proudly about how I shot a guy in the desert and left him for dead or how I
smuggled a bunch of drugs over the Mexican border at twenty years old.”

 

“You shot a guy?” I asked. I
assumed he’d done bad things, but to hear him speak so casually about it was
something else.

 

“I’m speaking hypothetically,” he
said, though I found it a little hard to believe. “I’m just saying, if I could
have a nice, normal life, I think it would make her happy.”

 

“I’m sure it would,” I agreed. “But
ultimately, you have to do it because it’s the life you want, not because it’s
the life you think your mom would’ve wanted for you.”

 

“I know,” he replied. “But can’t it
be a little of both?”

 

“I guess,” I said. “I don’t see why
not.”

 

My eyelids were growing heavy. I
wanted to continue our conversation so badly, but I couldn’t fight the urge to
pass out any longer. I had gotten Raze to open up, and the conversation had
gone much deeper than I anticipated, but my fatigue was setting in hardcore.

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