Hummingbird, p.4
Hummingbird, page 4
part #2 of Knights of Mayhem MC Series
KC nearly cracked a smile, “I love you, brother.” Rumors were KC only ever fully smiled when he killed someone. That was bullshit because he had done it...once. It was when his mother called him an asshole. Those were her dying words. Kincaid Carter never experienced a happier moment than when that bitch left the goddamn planet he’d had the misfortune of sharing with her.
West grimaced, “Shit.”
KC threw his left, stepping into it, then swung again, until West went down. He cleaned the blood off his gloves, bent down and hefted the young man over his shoulder.
He dropped him unceremoniously onto the sofa, the smell of coffee beckoned him. Grabbing a cup, he helped himself.
“Smells like pussy in here.” He noted taking a big black swallow of hot.
Hummingbird fastened her shorts while Big had an enormous erection visible in his denim. Here we go again, the Pam reboot.
Big had a shit-eating grin, he’d bet dollars to dime bags his breath smelled like a ginger trim cunt.
“You know where he was goin?” he stared at her eyes, he could always tell when a woman lied which was often in his experience.
“I think he said Arkansas, he wasn’t very chatty about anything other than the usual come-ons.” She stared back.
From most men, KC would consider what she was doing a challenge. He let it go, but not far.
“He connected?” he enjoyed testing people, especially those he didn’t know. All he knew about this chick was that she had fine tits, a near-perfect aim and a sense of direction like the wind blows. The fact she’d bed a biker right after meeting him wasn’t unusual, women love the danger, the excitement of banging a criminal. Mayhem had enough club bunnies to back that theory up. Big was a pussy magnet, the only fault he owned was in not always thinking with the right head and if he wasn’t, KC was going to do it for him.
She leaned forward, “Well, he picked me up in Nebraska, and he was driving a van whose contents would make an ATF agent cream their pants. What do you think?”
“Nebraska’s not that far. Do you think that’s where he departed from?” he got a good eyeshot down her shirt, but he already knew what those particular tits looked like. KC was not a brother easily swayed by cunt. They were a dime a dozen.
She shook her head, “No. I don’t know where he began his journey, I’m fairly certain his destination was Arkansas. I’m pointing out that he was transporting what I can only assume were stolen goods across state lines. Why would someone do that if they weren’t connected? I don’t know who. As I told Big, he didn’t talk about his business.”
“You’re very observant aren’t you, B?” Big touched her hand and she stroked his finger absently. They were one step away from making googly eyes at one another.
KC tensed, one taste of this chick’s pussy and his brother was practically swooning and shit. To hell with that, no way was he letting another Pam happen to him. Big was a good man, like really decent down in his bones. He could have been anything and been successful at it. He had charm no one could resist. Big swears he chose the outlaw life. KC saw through that line of bullshit; sometimes the outlaw life chose you. That was definitely the case concerning Cameron Hunter, AKA Big.
“I’ve always found it prudent for survival.” She smiled at him.
“You sound like a cop.” KC took another swallow of coffee then set his cup down. She was as fake as a three-dollar bill.
She rolled her eyes, “Or like someone who was raised by criminals?”
KC stepped towards her stretching his neck “Don’t roll your eyes at me. If the gravity of this situation hasn’t settled into that pretty little head of yours. Let me be clear, if Mayhem is fucked, then so are you.”
Hummingbird shifted in her seat, “I realize that. I’m not a cop. I’m not a fool and I don’t like being condescended to just because I have tits. I’m answering your questions. Why don’t you ask what you really want to know?”
The mouth on this chick, the balls too. The biggest part of her had to be her ego, something a lot of bikers could relate to.
KC’s eyes widened, “What would that be?”
Could be an act, what she was putting on. Time to find out how smart she was. Anyone could act tough, few could nut up, especially chicks. The old ladies and club bunnies were perpetually treated like mushrooms, kept in the dark and fed bullshit. It was for everyone’s protection.
“I’m not going to hurt your club.” she stood up “I wish I had all the answers you need. I can’t tell you what I don’t know. Vinnie had a paper bag full of coins.” She pushed her hair off her shoulders.
“He made a lot of calls, B?” Big took her hand and not so subtly pulled her away from his VP.
“A few, he had one of those little spiral notebooks.” She drew her fingers across his stubble covered jaw to his lips, she bit hers “So good.”
Big gave her that panty dropping smile, then pulled her onto his broad lap.
“Before you free the monster. See if she knows where he kept it.” Not a question. He locked eyes with his brother and both knew why this was crucial. If it was on him, it was ash.
Hummingbird turned around, “She is still here.” Her mouth would likely someday get her in trouble, “Above the visor, driver’s side.”
KC didn’t trust anyone. He sure as shit trusted women even less, and no one is as fearless as this chick. Everyone had ghosts and feared at least one thing. Death being a uniting factor in most folks’ fears. Everyone has to do it, nobody wants to, but anyone male or female who acts like they aren’t afraid of it is dangerous, delusional, or dead already on the inside. KC’s never had a fear of death.
CHAPTER
Eight
HITCH, MO
Ladies love outlaws. Big found that always to be true. His grandmother taught him to be a gentleman to the fairer sex. That’s why, as he inked Hummingbird’s tattoo in the clubhouse kitchen, he insisted her bra stay on.
Hummingbird required little convincing for Big to do the needed shading and color. Their trust was sort of immediate, fueled by insane chemistry.
Felony theft and murder can bond two individuals. They only stole what was already stolen. Win some, lose none. Finders keepers is a childish saying that happened to be true. The Death Dealers were a smaller club operating on the border of the Arkansas-Missouri state line, and they were running guns and booze through Mayhem territory for a short time. It could have been longer, if not for the encounter with Hummingbird. Every MC has its criminal enterprise, to each their own kind of a live and let live type thing. But you never traffic your shit through rival MC territory...ever. Dumb bastards.
She didn’t flinch or make a sound while he worked; she had perfect skin, taking the ink easily, absorbing it like a sponge. The bare bones of her tattoo were already there. He would have liked to have been the one to create it. He just colored inside the lines.
He set his rig aside, gently wiping off the excess ink, before applying a layer of ointment.
“Is it done?” her voice held an unambiguous note of excitement.
“For now darlin, once this heals I’ll do what I can with the rest.” He placed a kiss on her neck, then swatted her ass.
She spun around, “I can’t wait to see it, thank you.” Her smile was worth more than any words of gratitude.
Hummingbird practically skipped out of the kitchen.
Big cleaned up, putting his gear away neatly before he sought her out.
“Do you like it B?” his eyes met hers, reflected in his bathroom mirror.
Her head turned back, then looked up at him “It’s so beautiful.”
Big almost blushed, “Glad you like it.” He cleared his throat.
“I don’t like it, I love it. Means a lot to me you wanting to do it.” She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.
Big knew that shit was right. He’d never met anyone more grateful than B. Even little things most folks overlook or take for granted, Hummingbird didn’t.
“I’ll see ya tonight, darlin. Be good while I’m gone.” He hugged her back then left for work.
MAYBE IT WAS TRUE, what his VP had said, Hummingbirds are good luck. Little shit didn’t bother Big much like it used to. Some asshole pulled out in front of him making him swerve to miss his piece of shit car, Big didn’t even blink.
He got home from work and took B out to eat. It wasn't a fancy place, but she loved it. She was a burger and beer type, which suited Big perfectly. They had a few beers while he shot the shit with his brothers. She also made a smartass comment to West, who she often verbally sparred with, that had them all laughing. Even KC, he had never known he had that ability.
Now they were sitting close in his bed reading, he a magazine and her one of the dime-store novels he’d bought her along with the nightie she wore. It was silky, with thin straps that wouldn’t irritate her tattoo. It was pretty on her like anything would be. She leaned against his shoulder, her damp hair brushing his skin. Big tossed his magazine on the floor.
“Are we going to sleep?” She marked her page and closed the book.
“Not yet.” When she turned to look at him, he grabbed her neck then kissed her...hard.
Hummingbird’s hands flew to his face, then slid around to his hair. Her mouth opened, her tongue slipping into his mouth before he could use his own on her.
Big slid his arm around her and pulled her on top of his lap. There was a sense of urgency to the kiss that sent a thrill straight to his cock. The straps of her nightie slid down her arms, her breasts nearly peaking out in their haste.
“Holy shit darlin.” He helped her tits pop free, cupped one ass cheek and ground her down onto his lap. Every damn night he wanted this. The two of them went from chill to fever pitch with lust in less than two seconds flat.
His name on her lips, the look on her pretty face was so needy, so desperate it made his balls tingle. Cameron Hunter always did have a soft spot for horny women. They were his Achilles heel.
Big cupped her breasts then sealed his mouth around one hard nipple, sucking like his life depended on it, before taking the one he’d neglected even deeper into his mouth. His hand slipped down to find her soaked, but holy hell she had a tiny vagina, it was tighter than Preach when it came time to pay club dues. He was afraid no amount of stretching would loosen her up enough to take him; he had been trying tirelessly every day she’d been with him. Intense desperation fueled them, an insane need for completion not brought about by mouths and hands.
As he pressed a finger inside her, Hummingbird’s hips moved, riding his hand. That same depressing thought echoed in his brain again. His cock was too massive for her. B’s was not a malleable pussy, not like a whore who could take all comers. If she had done much fooling around in her past, they must have all been tiny cocks. Of course, this made Big’s desire to claim her pussy even stronger, but he didn’t want to hurt her or tear her up. In a brief time, he had developed a great affection for her.
Hummingbird hardly had the same concerns, it seemed as she freed his massive cock from his boxers. Her hands stroked, trying to find the end of his length still hidden under the waistband.
“Good lord you’re so huge.”
“Wait darlin, let me stretch you first.” He shifted, taking her in his arms and laying her flat. He pushed up her nightie until it was free of her face, then went down on her.
It didn’t take long at all in his estimation before she came against his tongue. In two weeks, he’d become a master at eating her out to orgasm. His fingers worked at her, building her body up to take three. He worked them deftly until her body relaxed; he could pump them easily in and out. Still not comparable to the thickness of his cock, he would have tried for four fingers, but by that point, he was aching in his balls. He knelt between her splayed limp legs, slid down his boxers, then leaned over her. Before he could settle, she grabbed his lips claiming his mouth with a hunger that matched his own.
Heaven would feel like the head of his cock pushing inside her snug pussy. Hummingbird gasped in shock as he fit his cock inside her. Her feet pressed into his lower back and her nails clamped into his chest.
“Am I hurting you B?” he didn’t want to stop, but he would yet again for her.
She hesitated, it was clear she wanted him; it was also clear to Big that he was, in fact, hurting her. Nope, it wouldn’t work. He rose, shifting away from her, surprised he didn’t hear an audible pop when his cock head left her snug pussy.
“You weren’t hurting me, Big.” She scrambled up after him, placing her hands on his chest.
Before he could call her out on her blatant lie, she kissed his chest, using her tongue “Maybe if we get you wet too.”
He hadn’t thought of that, couldn’t explain why. He always had lube in his nightstand. Being as large as he was, it was a prudent measure to take. Even a whore would dry up during the pounding Big’s monster could give them. He turned his torso to reach in his bedside table drawer. But his Hummingbird had a different idea.
Her luscious lips closed around his cock, her tongue stroking as she sucked. Hell's bells could she suck, swallowing more of him, now deeper inside her throat than his cock ever delved inside her pussy. Big tried not to think about how she could be so gifted at giving head, because honestly there was only one way, practice. Screw it anyway, he enjoyed reaping the benefits.
She looked pretty with her glistening eyes, hollowed cheeks, and wet swollen lips, his cock sliding in then out again. Hummingbird wasted no effort in her attempt at slicking his dick.
“Give me those lips, B.” his hand twisted in her long hair and tugged her away from his now glistening cock.
She surged up, their lips met, tongues entwining. Big lifted her gently, chests pressed tightly. Wasn’t much for their bits to line up back where they left off, except now they had gravity on their side.
Her sharp erratic breaths, tinged with notes of beer and whiskey, brushed his lips as inch by inch her impossibly snug pussy finally at what seemed like long last accepted his cock. The look on her face was one he’d not soon forget. A mixture of discomfort, ecstasy, and triumph. They held euphoria and victory in that moment of seconds, which felt more like hours in a stasis of incompletion with his cock half-buried inside her. Secretly Big was thinking thank you jesus.
Big shifted them, resuming their previous position. He still was in no hurry to move. Feeling her at last was enough. He kissed her neck, her face, her lips again until she squirmed under him.
“What you want, darlin?”
“Do me, Big.” She drew her nails across his back.
Damn if that wasn’t hot. Big obliged her, working her body with controlled thrusts. Since she handled that well, he gave her another inch, making her shriek and clench around him.
“Like this B?” he rolled his hips, holding his substantial weight off of her, so as not to crush her petite body.
“Yeah,” she gasped, her hips rocking up. Her hands sliding up Big’s torso to his face, she bit her lip “Oh damnit,” her eyes widened, focusing on his face.
Yeah, that was the spot, Big paid attention, it’s what made him a favorite with the ladies. A woman could hold little deceit in her face while her pussy was getting worked out. He didn’t understand how some men complain about an inability to make a bitch cum, about them faking it. No woman faked it with Cameron Hunter, Hummingbird was no exception. If a man couldn’t make a woman cum as much as he wanted her to, he wasn’t a man, or he was blind as hell. Even a mute chick could give you the combination to her orgasm vault. Big was a master safecracker, not that he needed to be with B. She was loud and her body as responsive as a limited-slip differential.
Her heels dug into his ass, her nails scraping across his neck, “Oh damn.” She tensed as he withdrew nearly completely, then pushed his cock as deep as he dared.
He kissed her briefly on the lips “I gotcha darlin.” He gave her another deep stroke.
Hummingbird drew her knees up, letting him have more “I knew you’d feel like this.” She gasped and tugged his hair.
Oh hell, wasn’t that his line? No pussy should be this tight. Big was in heaven, she couldn’t take it all, but half his cock in her was better than going balls deep in some club bunny.
Then she came, squeezing him so hard it made any further movement impossible. Making his balls tingle, and Big who prided himself on his stamina swore loudly. A few seconds after, he began to thrust, but Big already knew it was all over for him.
“Damnit, don’t judge me for this, darlin.” His hips pumped and so did his dick, his orgasm went on and on, leaving him feeling more used up than an old whore. Damn if he wasn’t a happy son of a bitch.
She pulled his head closer and kissed him “That was so damn good.” She smiled and kissed him again.
“I aim to please darlin.” He kissed her neck, sucking a bit of it into his mouth.
A knock rattled his door. Outlaws don’t politely rat-a-tat-tat to get your attention like civilized folks. They hit that shit loud enough to vibrate the hinges, usually with the heel of their hand or their boot.
Hummingbird startled and looked at the door, “Just checking to see if it’s still upright.”
Big snickered and moved up off her “Yeah?”
“Luke and his boys are here.” Sounded like Preach’s stoned staccato voice.
Big pulled on his denim, his cut and his boots. “Darlin,” he turned to her leaning onto the bed with his huge arms “I’m not saying you have to stay in this room. But if you need to take a piss, or leave this room for any reason, you flag a prospect or me.”
She smiled incredulously, “You don’t have to worry.”
“I don’t have to do a lot of things, B. But I do what I’m inclined to and what feels right. You're safe here with my brothers, they know why you’re here.”
She sat up making him pull back “You know I’m here because I want to be with you.”
