It Ain't Me, Babe (Hades Hangmen 1)

Collins sighed. We had the f**ker over a barrel and he knew it. “And you guys. What will y’all do with this piece of… personal information on me?”

“Fuck all… if the location works out,” Ky emphasized.

“And I’m meant to believe you won’t use it against me in the future?”

“Not at all. Help us, we’ll let you f**k road kill if y’wanna. Don’t give us the location, you’ll be national news in the morning.” Ky leaned down to where Collins sat. “Let’s just say we have some connections who’ll enjoy spreading this story.”

“Fuck!” Collins hissed. “I guess I have no choice then, do I?”

“Sweet. Fuck. All.” Ky agreed.

Five minutes later, we had our target location.

As we sat on our Harleys outside, Ky answered a call. “Yeah… ETA… Right…”

He closed his cell and looked to me. “Many as seven states of Hangmen en route. ETA eight hours.”

A feeling of relief stirred in my stomach. I was gonna get Mae back. In less than twenty-four hours, I’d have my old lady back on my bike and in my bed. The f**kers who took her would be long gone to the boatman, no dimes on their eyes. And that bastard Rider, he’d pay and pay good.

Tipping my head back, I closed my eyes. Hang tight, babe. I’m coming for you real soon.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mae

“Babe,” Styx hissed as I kissed down his taut, packed stomach, licking between the valleys and hills of hard muscle. Following the patch of hair leading to his underwear, I pulled down the waistband, his length springing forward only to land next to my mouth. Glancing up, Styx’s eyes were hooded at half mast, his teeth biting the silver ring that sat through his bottom lip.

“Mae… fuck…” he hushed out.

Smiling at how I could bring him to his knees, I leaned down and licked along his rigid flesh. A long groan escaped his mouth. “That feels so good, babe. So f**kin’ good,” he murmured, his tattooed arms flexing at his sides.

Planting my hand on either side of his hips, I crawled to straddle over his thighs, wrapped my lips around his length, and sucked him deep into my mouth. I loved his salty musky taste. His hand wrapped in my long hair and his hips began to lift, slowly plunging his erection farther into my mouth. “Babe… babe…” he said, each word synchronized with each thrust.

Reaching up, I spread my hand on his chest, digging my nails into his skin, picking up rhythm, his harsh breath panting, faster and faster.

“Mae… Mae, Christ! Love you…”

Freeing Styx from my mouth, I sat up, spurred on by his words, lifted my hips, and, bracing him at my entrance, slammed down to push him all the way inside.

His chest reared off the mattress. “MAE!” he roared.

Palming my behind, he ground me furiously against his hardness, the movement hitting that spot, that spot right there.

“River… oh, yes…” I mewled.

“I f**kin’ love it when you call me River…” he whispered, licking along my neck, down my chest, and over to suck on my ni**les.

“River… River…” I moaned, my stomach tensing, thighs squeezing. As I threw my head back, I shattered into pieces, the pleasure lighting me up from the inside out.

“Mae. Babe… You’re milking me so good… so… tight… argh!” Styx stilled and every muscle in his ripped, hard body strained. His neck veins corded, his mouth dropped open and a flood of warmth spread within me.

Pushing back the damp hair from Styx’s face, I pressed my forehead to his as I caught my rasping breath. I smiled as his hand ghosted up my spine and gripped the nape of my neck, holding me in place.

“You did not stutter,” I casually commented, a happy smile on my face.

He drew back in disbelief, a deep V between his brows. I moved in and kissed the crease.

“I didn’t?”

I shook my head.

Styx exhaled and a wry smile emerged. “It’s like… I can… breathe around you… It’s… getting easier… I forget I can’t… speak when… we’re alone… It makes me feel… normal.”

Styx spoke each word with crystal clarity. He paused several times, his eyes twitched as he spoke the sentence and he took several deep breaths, but there was no stammer. I positively beamed with pride for him.

“You know… I had every kind of treatment growing up… until eventually, at six, a… specialist recommended I… learn to sign. You know, just… to give me some kinda voice. The docs couldn’t… ever work out the cause. I had no… fuckin’ clue. Just knew my… words didn’t come like… everyone else’s. I never let… anyone get too close, ’cept… my old man and Ky… and this… chick I met through a fence… when I was a kid. Then years later… she stormed back into… my life.” He cupped my cheeks. “Babe… you’re my best… kinda therapy.”

I stared into his large hazel eyes and tipped my head. “I thought you said, ‘it ain’t you who’s meant for me’?”

He laughed. He rarely laughed, but when he did, I rejoiced at the sound of it: husky, deep… male. “Oh, it’s me, babe… Ain’t no other man for you… but me.”

Pressing my forehead against his, I brushed a kiss on his lips, my tongue licking along the silver lip ring. “Mmm…” he groaned. I began rolling my hips, his length hardening once more.