I deemed working the bar safe and simple enough, but I was watching like a fucking hawk.

  Especially since she was wearing those tight-as-fuck shorts. They hugged the globes of her ass perfectly, making them look even better than normal. A tank top with the club emblem stitched onto the back barely contained her tits—was pretty sure she was wearing the best damn push-up bra she had, too. Combine that with the fishnet stockings she had on and her combat boots, and I was pretty sure she was trying to fucking kill me.

  Or make me kill someone else. Whichever fucking came first, really.

  Tanner leaned over the bar to hand someone a drink, and one of the guys from the other charter, whose name I didn’t know yet, reached out and grabbed a handful of my woman’s breast.

  I fucking lost it.

  I slammed my beer onto the table. Elijah stood as well, but I was too fast for him. I grabbed the back of the asshole’s shirt, lifted him from his fucking stool, and tossed him over the bar. Tanner jumped out of the way just in time. I moved to go around it, but Elijah gripped my arm, halting me. My chest was heaving with each breath I took. I was seeing fucking red.

  “What the fuck?!” the guy yelled at me as he stood up to his feet. “All that shit over a piece of fucking ass?!”

  Tanner quickly came around the bar when I shoved Elijah off me. She placed her hands on my chest, pushing against me. Gritting my teeth, I looked down at her. “Outside,” she told me, her eyes locked on mine, not afraid in the slightest. “Come on; outside.”

  I pointed my finger at the fucker who had touched her. “Better ask your goddamn prez to give you a fucking rundown on what a fuckin’ old lady is, you hear me? Because if you touch her again, I’ll slit your throat.”

  Tanner kept pushing, and finally, I latched my hand around her wrist and spun on my heel, storming outside. Like fuck was I leaving her behind. I knew this shit would get me heat with Elijah but fuck, that asshole shouldn’t have touched Tanner.

  Touch my woman, and you’re likely to lose your fucking life.

  She was mine, and I’d made sure I had announced she was off fucking limits tonight to those fuckers. He’d deserved what in the hell was coming for him after he touched my woman, especially when it had been made clear who she belonged to.

  16

  Dawson

  Tanner pushed me against the side of the clubhouse, the brick digging into my back. There was a fire in her eyes—anger. And she was burning me with it.

  Fuck if I didn’t crave it though. I wanted this woman to scorch me.

  “Elijah should’ve let me put him on his ass,” I growled at her. “He doesn’t touch you. No one fucking touches you.”

  She pressed her body to mine, her hands going for my belt. I groaned. She knew exactly how to get me to chill the fuck out.

  A couple of men were on the lot smoking and talking, neither of them wearing our cuts. Instead, they wore the cuts of the club that rode in tonight. But fuck, if she wanted to suck my cock for everyone to see, I wasn’t going to fucking complain or tell her no.

  It’d show everyone here who the fuck she belonged to. I owned her mouth, her cunt, her ass—every fucking bit of this woman belonged to me.

  And I didn’t share my belongings.

  I looked back down at her when the cooler air washed over my now-bared cock, which was hot and heavy in her hand. “You gonna use that sinful mouth of yours?” I asked, my voice already raspy. I reached up and rubbed the pad of her plump, lower lip, tugging on it gently before releasing it.

  She nodded. “Will it get you to calm down?”

  I smirked at her. “Might get me worked up for an entirely different reason.”

  The heated look she shot me would have made a prostitute blush. I trailed my fingers along her jaw as she ran her thumb over the head of my cock, smearing my precum. It was thick and hard, ready for her wet mouth. “On your knees, baby girl.”

  She obediently dropped down, looking up at me from under her lashes, waiting for my command. I ran my fingers through her long, dark, wavy hair before gripping the strands. “Open that mouth for me.”

  She obediently opened her mouth, and I slid my cock in, immediately driving deep down her throat. Tanner didn’t possess a gag reflex, so she took me easily, swallowing around me before she began bobbing her head back and forth all while letting me fuck her mouth for all I was worth. I groaned, bracing myself on the wall, my legs spread, my feet planted, my eyes fixated on her. But I could feel the eyes of the other two men outside on us.

  I glanced up through slitted eyes, and sure enough, they were staring at Tanner on her knees, my cock shoved deep down her throat. They were staring so fucking hard, they looked to be on the verge of drooling and coming in their jeans.

  I looked back down at her. Saliva dripped down her chin, coating her pretty lips. Tears were running down her cheeks, but she was taking everything I was giving her like a greedy little slut.

  My greedy little slut.

  “Who do you belong to?” I growled. I was so fucking close.

  She sucked me harder, giving me my answer. I yanked on her strands and tilted her head back, driving harder and faster down her already abused throat. She continued to take everything I was giving her, more tears running down her cheeks, her lips swollen and abused.

  “Are you my good girl?”

  I loosened my grip just enough for her to nod her head. I growled her name and erupted down her throat, filling her belly with my seed.

  17

  Dawson

  I wasn’t near done with Tanner yet, and judging by the needy look in her eyes, she wasn’t ready for me to be done yet either.

  I yanked her up onto her feet and spun her around to face the clubhouse. I broke the button on her shorts when I tried to get them open, too impatient to pay attention to what the hell I was doing. My cock was still hard and heavy for her, even after coming down her slender throat. I wanted inside her tight little snatch.

  “Dawson,” she whimpered, her nails biting into the brick siding, damaging them. I’d pay for her to get them fixed tomorrow.

  “I’m working on it,” I promised her, my words coming out biting and harsh. I finally got her tiny ass shorts down her legs, and I rumbled in pleasure when I saw her fishnet leggings were crotchless. Such a good girl. She knew I’d rip those fucking things off of her in a heartbeat if they weren’t. I’d done it before.

  I pressed a kiss to her neck. “Good girl,” I praised.

  She needily whimpered.

  Gripping her hips, I yanked her ass back, and then I kicked her feet apart, spreading her legs. In one yank, her thong was ripped, and then, I was surging inside of her. She cried out, her head falling back on her shoulders, her dark hair covering the entire expanse of her back. I gripped a fistful of those dark strands and began to pound into her precious cunt, fucking her for all I was goddamn worth.

  Her nail broke, but she paid it no mind as she pushed harder against the brick wall, trying to stabilize herself against my vicious thrusts. In no time at all, she was coming undone, her pussy walls clutching at me, milking my cock all while she screamed my name. I drove up deep into her and erupted with a roar, my hand instantly reaching up to wrap around her throat, cutting off her air supply.

  Her breaths were mine. Her pussy was mine. Every orgasm she had was mine.

  She went spiraling into another climax, her knees giving out beneath her. I released her throat and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back flush to my chest. “Easy,” I rumbled, skimming my nose along the column of her sore throat. I pressed a kiss right beneath the shell of her ear. “Breathe, baby girl.”

  She was shaking so fucking hard, her teeth were chattering. I continued cooing to her even after my dick went soft and slipped out of her, my cum now running down her pretty, thick thighs, ruining her fishnets.

  “B-b-bed,” she stuttered.

  I sat on the picnic table bench and settled her on my lap, managing to get her shorts up her legs. Then, I carried her into the clubhouse, heading straight for the stairs.

  But not before I cast that dumb fuck that had touched her a smug look.

  He quickly looked away. I snorted.

  Kiss my fucking ass, douchebag. She’s mine.

  18

  Dawson

  Tanner passed out as soon as I put her in my bed last night. She barely even stirred as I stripped her shorts, shoes, and fishnet stockings off of her, and she snored while I was cleaning her up.

  My girl had never needed sleeping pills—not since we started fucking. I wore her out so much that she passed out immediately. And I fucking loved that. Because not only did it mean that I was doing my job as her man, but it also meant she trusted me to take care of her afterward.

  She didn’t feel a need to put her guard up around me, and that meant a fuck ton of a lot when it came to Tanner because she’d had her guard up the moment she stepped foot into this clubhouse years ago.

  I leaned over the bed, bracing a hand near her shoulder, and gently pressed my lips to hers. It was nine in the morning, and she was still passed out, her arms wrapped around her pillow. I wasn’t going to disturb her. As my old lady, she no longer owed shit to this place. She could do whatever the hell she pleased, and I planned to let her do that.

  You know, within bounds though. Because God knew Tanner needed boundaries.

  I gently closed the door to my room behind me and then headed downstairs toward the chapel. We had church in five minutes, and I liked to get there early. Elijah didn’t like people coming in late, and on time was considered fucking late.

  “Got a problem,” Elijah gruffly spoke up, anger residing in his eyes. Tension had his features pinched. I clenched my jaw.

  “The fuck is it? Too early for bullshit, prez,” I spoke up, scrubbing my hand down my face.

  Kit handed me his phone. It was pulled up on PornHub—who the fuck even used that site anymore?—and a video was pulled up. Sighing, I grabbed his phone from his hand, wondering what club bunny had fucked up this time, only when I hit play, I almost broke the fucking phone with how tight I gripped it.

  My face was blurred out, but Tanner’s was on full display, and my cock was down her throat.

  “Who the fuck—!” I roared, handing Kit his phone back as I lurched from my seat, feeling fucking murderous.

  “Not sure yet,” Elijah said, cutting me off. “Trist is working on finding it out as we speak,” he said, nodding his head at our VP. “You need to tell Tanner about it before she finds out from someone else.”

  I clenched my jaw. We’d had a good night last night. Fuck, she was still goddamn sleeping—sleep she fucking needed. I didn’t want to bring this shit to her attention. I wanted to take care of it and then let her know.

  But I knew life didn’t fuck work that way, and if Kit had already found it, chances were, the rest of the fuckers here already had, too.

  “How many views?” I growled, feeling murderous.

  “You don’t want to know,” Kit muttered. “The link popped up on my Twitter feed.”

  Fuck.

  “Got it,” Trist announced, turning his laptop to us. I leaned over his shoulder, taking a look.

  Fucking Brittany.

  I stood to my full height, my hands clenched at my sides. I looked at Elijah. “She’s done here,” I snarled at him. “Done. She’ll be lucky if I don’t fucking slit her throat for this shit.”

  19

  Tanner

  I was still trying to wake up when I heard Dawson begin to yell downstairs. I was up out of bed fast as lightning then, yanking on a pair of his briefs and one of his shirts before rushing downstairs, not even bothering with shoes or a bra like I normally did.

  Olivia stopped me, a solemn expression on her face. “What is it?” I snapped. “The fuck is going on?”

  She drew in a deep breath. Dawson’s voice grew louder in the chapel. “Brittany has posted a video of you sucking Dawson’s dick on a porn site.”

  I moved around her, brushing her hand off when she tried to stop me. Dawson was coming out of the chapel, but I paid him no fucking mind as I headed for Brittany. She was wiping down a table, scrubbing at a spot. When she looked up at me, she had the audacity to smile. “Tanner—”

  “Did you post it?” I snarled at her.

  The brief flicker of fear in her eyes before she could mask it was all the goddamn answer I needed.

  I grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair and slammed her face first onto the table before yanking her back up and backhanding her across the face. She screeched in pain, and I punched her, knocking her on her ass.

  I didn’t stop there. Straddling her, I rained blow after blow down onto her face, bloodying her up. By the time someone pulled me off of her, she was unconscious, and no doubt was going to need plastic surgery to fix her fucked-up face.

  I yanked myself from Dawson's grip, my chest heaving. My hands were bloody and swollen. I shook them out, glaring at every bitch standing in that room, staring at Brittany with horrified expressions.

  “Let me make this perfectly fucking clear,” I seethed, my chest heaving. Dawson’s settled his hand on my lower back, standing strong behind me. “The next time anyone fucking crosses me, your family member will be making fucking funeral arrangements.”

  With that, I stormed back up the stairs, my entire body trembling with rage.

  20

  Dawson

  Elijah looked at me when Tanner disappeared up the stairs. “We’ll take care of her. I’d get upstairs to Tanner if I were you.”

  I sure as fuck didn’t have to be told twice. As soon as he dismissed me, I rushed up the stairs after Tanner, catching the door right before she slammed it closed. She spun around to face me, and I growled at the sight of the tears in her eyes.

  I wanted to fucking kill Brittany for making her feel like this.

  “Whatever’s running through your head, shut it down now,” I growled at Tanner, stepping forward. She took a step back for every one of my steps until I had her pinned to the wall. She blinked, and one of those fucking tears ran down her cheek, enraging me further.

  I circled my hand around her throat. “The fuck did I tell you a few weeks ago?” I snapped at her, narrowing my eyes down at her pretty face.

  Her lips trembled with the effort to hold herself together. “The only time I cry is if your dick is down my throat or you’re fucking me,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

  “That’s right,” I rumbled. “Because no mother fucker besides me is worth these pretty fucking tears, you hear me? And I’m not even worth it if I’m not pleasing you.”

  She sucked in a ragged breath. “I’m not a whore,” she whispered. She said it out of the blue, like she was trying to make herself believe it.

  I tightened my hand around her throat. The torment in her eyes dimmed a little. “That’s right, baby girl. You’re not. You’re mine.”

  She placed her hands under my shirt, gliding them up my abs. A pleading look entered her eyes. Without her saying a word, I knew what she needed. And I’d give it to her because my girl needed grounding. She needed a physical reminder that she belonged to me and not a goddamn other soul.

  Keeping my hand around her throat, I slid my other hand inside the briefs she was wearing, easily finding her sweet cunt. I rubbed her clit for a moment, watching as her pupils dilated, a moan crawling up her throat.

  “There you go,” I murmured, praising her, just like she needed. “That’s my good girl. I’m the only fucking thing that matters, you hear me?”

  She whimpered and nodded. I slid my fingers inside of her, fucking her with them all while I rubbed the heel of my hand against her clit. In no time, she was coming undone, crying out my name. I kissed her, swallowing her moans as I gently worked her down.

  “You good now?” I asked her once her heart rate regulated, going back to normal speed.

  She nodded and leaned her head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close to me. “We’ll get it taken down, you hear me? And Brittany is done here. I promise.”

  She nodded. “Thank you for always being here for me.”

  I pressed my lips to the top of her head. “Always, baby.”

  I’d never fucking be anywhere else.

  21

  Dawson

  Tanner looked up at me as I came out of the bathroom, holding alcohol, cotton balls, and bandages. I even had a damp towel to clean her hands up so I could see how badly she’d busted her knuckles up on Brittany’s face. And judging by how fucked up Brittany’s face had been, Tanner had done a number on her hands.

  “How bad do they hurt?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “They’re throbbing, but I can deal.”

  She could. I knew that. But was I going to make her deal? Hell fucking no.

  I set down the things I’d grabbed from the bathroom on the bed and then went back into the bathroom to grab her some ibuprofen. I then grabbed a bottle of water from my mini fridge. I twisted the cap off and handed it to her. Then, I shook out two tablets of ibuprofen and handed them to her. She was allergic to acetaminophen, so I only kept ibuprofen on hand for her.

  “Thanks,” she whispered after she’d swallowed them.

  I crouched in front of her and gently grabbed her left hand. I did my best to be gentle as I cleaned her up. She winced occasionally, but my girl never made a sound of pain. She took it all like a champ.

  Once her right hand was also cleaned up, I began putting alcohol onto the cuts on her knuckles and fingers, and then I bandaged up the pretty bad ones.

  When I was done, she reached up and rubbed her temples, wincing. I brushed my lips to her forehead, instantly knowing what was wrong. Her migraines were a bitch to deal with; I knew that. And they popped up when she was extremely stressed.

 

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