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Rage (Royal Bastards MC 2)

Page 29

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“Nice digs. Now, where’s your wardrobe?”

“I don’t want to go out.” I take the candle to the sink and run the flame under the tap to put it out.

“Listen, Willa, you always turn down my offer for fun. Now, I’m not giving you a choice. Come on, the power is out. What the hell are you going to do otherwise?”

Think of an excuse to call Gabe. Mope when he doesn’t answer because he’s out of town on business.

“Fine. I’ll come.”

“Yay! Now, what do you have to wear?”

I look down at my jeans and shirt, and her eyes expand in horror. “No way! Grab your purse. We’re going to my place to find you an outfit. I have a killer red dress that would go so well with your huge tits.”

A dress? I’m regretting this already.

Twenty-One

Gabe

Pictures of my girl all dolled up and out on the fucking town ding one after the other on my cell. She’s blossomed, looks happy, confident, fucking stunning. “You want us to wait while you fucking bang one out to that or can we finish up here?” Jimmy barks, pointing down at the guy gasping for air beneath my boot squeezing the life from his throat. I let up, removing my foot from his neck, and slip my phone into my pocket. Knowing she’s out will plague my fucking mind until I get the “Goodnight” text she never fails to send.

“You want to tell us who your source is for the coke, or should I go for round two with your windpipe?” I growl at the dealer stepping over Royal Bastards’ territories.

“He’ll kill me.”

Jimmy drops on his haunches and presses the barrel of his gun to his forehead. “You think we’re not, motherfucker? It can be slow and painful or quick and easy.”

Another text comes through from Willa.

I’m going to say night now in case it’s late when I get home. Sleep well, Gabe.

I slip my knife from my boot, rolling my shoulders. “Let’s go with the long route.”

Getting back to the clubhouse, I find an empty room to crash in. Placing the bottle of whiskey I stole from behind the bar on the dresser, I kick off my boots and sit back on the bed. I pull my phone out and look over the pictures Willa sent earlier. It’s four a.m., and I want to know she’s home. Alone. It makes me an asshole, but it eats away at me knowing every fucker in the club was salivating at the sight of her.

Yanking the buttons of my jeans open, I pull my cock free and stroke the full length, tightening my fist over the head. Fuck, what the hell has this woman done to me? My fingers hover over her name. Fuck it. I hit call, grab the bottle of whiskey, and chug a burning mouthful. My cock stands at attention, needing to feel her fat fucking lips around it.

“Hello?” a groggy sounding Willa croaks.

“You at your place?” I ask, fisting my cock again.

“Gabe?” she questions. I hear movement, the ruffling of her duvet, and the flicking of a switch.

“Yeah, it’s fucking Gabe,” I snarl. Who the fuck else would be calling at this hour?

“Are you okay?”

“I miss you,” I tell her honestly, my mind clouding with the alcohol I’ve consumed tonight. “You tangled me up in your web, baby, and then left me.”

“What happened?” She sounds more alert now, concerned.

“I hear you whispering in my head, baby. Can’t focus on anything else. You’re in my bones, keeping me prisoner.”

“Do you need me to come home?” Home…fucking hell, she’s killing me.

“I need you on my cock.” Her gasp makes my cock jump in excitement. “You alone?” I groan, tugging my dick, bringing images of her pert tits and slim waist, the curves flaring out at her hips to the forefront of my mind.

“I’m never alone.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I growl, thinking of a million ways to butcher a man.

“You’re always with me—in my head, my heart.” Well…damn.

“Lay on your bed and touch your pussy for me. Tell me what you feel like. I need to know what you feel like so bad, baby.” I know I shouldn’t be asking her to do this shit, but I’m too far gone to listen to my own reasoning.

“I feel warm. Silky wetness coats my fingers when I touch myself and think of you,” she breathes. Sensual gasps from her lips drive me fucking crazy.

“Slip them into your mouth. Tell me how you taste,” I beg, fucking my fist, wishing it was her tight hole. The suckling assaults my ears, nearly making me combust.

“Sweet, sexy…I taste like pleasure,” she moans, and my cock throbs. My hips buck up into my fist, my come erupting from the tip coating my fingers. I want to fuck her mouth, then finger-fuck her pussy with my cum-coated hand until she screams my name.



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