The End (New Adult Biker Gang Romance) (Night Horses MC Book 7) (4 page)

He was sitting up, and looking at me, a small smile on his face.

“You guys have done a lot for me,” I said. “I wanted to help.”

“I like it,” he said. “I really like it.”

“I want to work for you,” I said. “I want to manage the laundrymat. No one fucking shows up when they’re expected to. I wanna hire some people. Not from the gang.”

He nodded, slowly. “I want you to hire at
least
half your people from the Night Horses, okay? You can fill in with others.”

“Okay, but I don’t want it to be a punishment any more. I want it to be a job,” I said.

“Deal,” he said, with a grin.

We went back to splashing our toes in the water.

A week later, I graduated from high school.

I didn’t want to walk in the ceremony, but my mother asked me to. Besides keeping Bear with her, it was pretty much the only thing she’d asked me to do since I’d met Merle.

So, I did it. I wore the stupid fucking cap and the stupid fucking gown and I walked across the stupid fucking stage.

I even smiled.

With relief at being done, not really pride, but who cares? It was a smile.

I saw my mother and Merle sitting together in the audience.

She was pulling herself together, but it was clearly hard, hard work.

I… was doing better than I expected. Everything still hit me at weird times. Sometimes I cried when I dropped the lid for the milk, or ran naked into my apartment when I couldn’t stand being in the shower any more.

That’s okay, though.

I mean, I was freaking out, but… a few months ago I would have hated myself for losing control. Now, I just shrugged and moved on.

When shitty things happen to you, it’s okay to fucking lose it.

I kept working at the laundrymat after I graduated.

True to his word, Merle had some of his boys show up to interivew. When I next saw the guys I rejected around the campfire, they flipped me off - but they were grinning.

No real hard feelings.

I loved that about the gang. Sure, people got pissed at each other, even beat each other up sometimes, but they usually cooled off. No harm done.

Stuff like what happened with Bill and Jackson was really fucking rare. Not unheard of, but not an everyday thing, either. Men were kicked out of the gang maybe every year or two.

Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t sitting around singing kumbayah, but… All of the violence and anger and hurt was right there in the open.

There was no lingering resentment. No mind games.

It was fucking awesome.

A woman got pissed at me for sitting too close to her man once. She slapped me. I grabbed her hair and kicked her in the shin and told her I wasn’t interested in that asshole.

Some guys pulled us apart, and two days later, she gave me cookies she’d just baked.

I was pretty sure I’d always visit my mother regularly, but… I couldn’t go back.

She and Merle both asked if I wanted to. I told them no. Spending too long in the perfectly-manicured suburbia I’d grown up in made me itchy now.

That lazy June, there was only one thing that really bothered me.

Since all the shit happened, Merle hadn’t really touched me.

We slept in the same bed often, at my place or his.

He kissed my cheek, my forehead.

We leaned against each other.

I was sometimes afraid he wasn’t interested in me any more.

Finally, one day, I said something about it.

He gave me a funny look.

“After William and Chad, I didn’t want to push you, make you uncomfortable. You still have nightmares sometimes,” he said.

I nodded.

“I don’t know when they’ll stop. Maybe never. I don’t want to wait forever.”

I reached out and took his hand in mine.

“I want you, Merle.”

We were in bed, on a hot morning. The ceiling fan was on. I was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of Merle’s boxers, and so was he. Well, minus the t-shirt. Just a pair of boxers.

I could see most of his body. His firm chest, his hard arms, his chiseled stomach.

It looked incredible.

I wanted to touch it.

I wanted to have sex with him.

I stole his clothing pretty often. He’d seen me before I did my makeup.

We’d been intimate, as my mother would say, but we’d never had sex.

I was past ready to fix that.

He was too, judging by the grin he gave me.

I had seen his morning wood straining his boxers a dozen times, but never touched it.

I reached out and grasped his hard-on through the fabric.

I gasped at how hot and hard it was. I kind of knew it would be, but it was something else feeling it, you know?

Something else entirely pulling down the waistband and seeing it in full glory.

It was hard and long, jutting out from a nest of wiry black pubes.

I grasped it in my hand and gave it a few experimental tugs.

“You don’t mess around, do you?” he asked, shutting his eyes for a moment, a smile of pleasure tugging at his lips.

“Nope,” I said, and leaned over, taking the head of his cock into my mouth.

“Goddamn,” Merle said, rising on his elbows, his eyes opening to look at my lips wrapped around his shaft.

He pulled away.

“Hey, lemme touch you, okay?” he asked. “I don’t wanna be all give and no take.”

I shook my head.

“I want to,” I insisted.

I didn’t have to argue too hard for him to stretch out a playing.

His cock felt good in my mouth. Hot, hard, heavy. It stretched my lips, but not unpleasantly. It was fascinating to feel full like that.

Finally, he touched my hair, softly.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep that up,” he said.

I grunted in approval and flashed him a thumbs-up, startling a laugh out of him.

As he laughed, I went further down his shaft, further than I ever had, and repeated it a couple of times.

He did come, and I pulled my mouth away just in time.

I didn’t mind sucking his cock, I actually liked feeling it… but I wasn’t sure I was ready to do that yet.

Merle didn’t seem to mind.

He lay there, gasping a little.

I crawled up the bed and curled up with my head on his chest. I grinned against him. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself.

“May I touch you?” he asked.

I nodded.

He met my gaze with his own.

“Is there anything I should know about?  Anything I shouldn’t do?” he asked.

I knew what he meant. How could I not?

“Please don’t… on top of me,” I said.

It was what William had done. Trapped me with his body. Held me down.

He nodded.

“May I touch you?” he repeated.

I nodded again, more confidently.

He reached out for my breast, stroking it through the thin cotton of his own t-shirt.

I searched with my hands in turn for every delightful inch of his muscular chest.

The sight of it, the feel of him drove me almost wild.

He seemed to be feeling the same way - his dick was, if anything, even harder than before I blew him.

It was amazing, to touch, and feel, to be touched.

He made me shiver and pant and moan before he even slipped his fingers under the waistband of the boxers I was wearing.

When he did - oh! It was incredibly. I felt like he knew my body better than I knew it myself.

Every teasing little movement of his fingers drove me out of my mind. It was as soft as butterfly wings, and I wanted more, but every time I tried to grab his hand and take my own pleasure, he pulled it away.

Tease.

Such a total tease.

He was grinning, delighted with himself, when I finally brushed his hand away and and took over.

I have no idea how I got out of my boxers, but I knew that before long, his hand was between my bare legs, two fingers inside me, making my eyes roll back in my head with pleasure.

“Do you wanna cum on my fingers before you take my cock?” he asked.

I shook my head.

His fingers felt amazing inside of me, but even they were stretching me more than I’d ever been stretched before.

His cock would be a lot bigger. I wanted to be this desperate for it - I’d heard that it made it easier.

“I want you, now,” I said.

He met my eyes and apparently I meant business, because he stopped teasing me and sat up, getting closer, getting into a better position.

“This okay?” he asked.

He pulled my hips close and knelt between my legs, pulling my hips up so that his cock was on the edge of my entrance.

He’d paid attention, and I didn’t feel trapped or held down at all. He was bolt upright, not even leaning over me.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah. It’s good. It’s all good.”

I bit my lip as he guided the head of his dick along my slit with one hand.

I could feel how soft the skin of it was against my lower lips, I wanted more, but I was afraid.

It felt so GOOD when it brushed my clit, though, that I found my hips thrusting to meet it in little needy jerks.

That was apparently what he was waiting for, because he was grinning AGAIN, the smug asshole.

“Having fun?” he asked, in his lightest and most innocent of voices.

“Stop teasing,” I groaned. “Get it over with, okay?”

“Not exactly what a man likes to hear. ‘Get it over with,’ I mean, really,” he grumbled.

He did, though, He lined his cock up just right and started easing it inside me.

It hurt, a little.

Mostly, though, it felt good, and right, and amazing, and I wanted more, and faster.

It was like my legs burning after I ran too far for fun - sure, it hurt a little, but it was so satisfying that it was totally worth it.

He eased in incredibly slowly, pausing a lot and asking me if I was okay.