Home > Free (Chaos #6)(72)

Free (Chaos #6)(72)
Author: Kristen Ashley

That said, Rosalie had told him she thought Hardcore would keep Kiki. She’d said he was “gone for her” or some shit.

She’d been right a lot.

It was obvious she was right about that too.

“She lost her fuckin’ mind,” Hardcore went on.

“You’re tellin’ me this . . . why?” Beck asked.

“Honesty, Thro . . . Beck.”

“And you want me to do what with it?”

“I know that cut you, man,” Hardcore said low.

“Yeah, landin’ your own blows then watchin’ your brothers beat the fuck outta the woman you were gonna make babies with cuts. That a surprise?”

“Pacino is a piece of shit,” Hardcore muttered.

“He called for it. But we all voted on it. And you said aye, Core. So did I. We gotta live with that. But we don’t gotta do that processin’ it.”

Core gave him a close look. “You should bring Janna to the clubhouse, we party, Beck.”

Starting how he started, then going to that, was he insane?

“I’m not bringin’ another woman near that club until I know the club is tight and the woman is tight,” he returned.

“I get you,” he mumbled.

Beck didn’t care he got him.

“We done?”

They weren’t, and Hardcore wasn’t close to finished laying it out.

“Janna okay?” he asked.

“She’s my business, not yours.”

“Just sayin’, you need anything, brother.” It was an offer.

This was him reaching out.

Beck wished Core had reached out before.

Beck wished he’d reached out to Core before.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one learning lessons.

Even so . . .

“Last time you were with a woman of mine, that didn’t go too good, so no offense, Core, but I wouldn’t wait for me to call.”

“Yeah,” Core looked off into the distance. “I get you.”

Jesus.

He felt the mantle of shame for what was done to Rose suffocating him, he didn’t need his brother to lay his guilt on him.

Core looked back at him. “Web ain’t young and he held the gavel when all that shit went down. It happened on his watch and—”

“One,” Beck cut him off, “seems you’re a big fan of layin’ blame elsewhere that rests on all our shoulders, brother. Two, you got problems with leadership, you bring them to the table, not tail me to a parking lot to scheme some fucked-up mutiny.”

“I’d tell Web this to his face,” Core ground out.

“Then why you tellin’ it to me?”

“Because I think you should be president, and I’m not alone. Muzzle, Eight and Grill agree. This shit has worn Web out. He feels it. You can see that every time he sits the table. He was our leader when that went down, and if you’d let me finish what I was sayin’, I feel it for him. We all went along for the ride, but you sit in his chair, it’s gonna lay heavier on you. Think he’s good to hand over the gavel once we got our new charter sorted. And I want you to think about taking it when he does.”

Beck stared at him.

“Once the club is solid, we can make him Chaplain. He’d dig that,” Hardcore continued.

Beck said nothing.

“Just think on it, brother. We fucked up, and we were fallin’ apart. But you’re a big part of what kept us together, even after you took the hit of losin’ Rosalie the way we made it so that happened. That loyalty has not been missed. So just think. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Beck grunted.

“Seriously beautiful, you goin’ the extra mile to answer questions none of us thought to ask and ousting Digger and Pacino. They were both patched in before our time, and I do not get how that happened. Pacino was just a nuisance, but he was a big one. Digger,” he gave an impressive, fake, full-torso shiver, “that guy’s never been right. He did that porn girl, I would not be surprised. Kiki fuckin’ hated him. Took a lot not to go out and buy champagne, we saw the back of him.”

Hardcore grinned a grin that Rosalie used to call his Hollywood smile and Beck never got that, but now he was seeing the guy was pretty good looking.

“And I fuckin’ hate champagne,” he finished.

Core lifted a fist and Beck automatically lifted his.

They bumped them, then hooked thumbs, wrapped fingers around and held tight before they let go.

It wasn’t a secret handshake.

But all of Bounty did that.

He hadn’t done it in a long fucking time.

You asked him five minutes ago if he’d missed it, he would have said no.

Now, honestly, he’d have to take a second to think.

“Bring Janna around,” Core said quietly. “We’d like to meet her and not why you’d think. Just be good to have some decent babes around for a change.”

With that, he jerked up his chin, fired up his bike and took off.

Beck looked forward and sat there, staring at the empty spot in front of him for a minute before he did the same.

Spooked by the tail, he didn’t pull off and call Lucas.

Seeing as she was out, he’d call the man when he got to Janna’s.

And when she got home, he’d try to pull info about her dream out of her.

She was still holding it over him as emotional extortion.

He was hitting her pad not only because her pad was a whole lot nicer than his, but also because he was giving her the weekend in order to try to help her sleep easy.

But if she didn’t give him what was troubling her sometime that weekend, even if he had to tie her to the bed and play with her, not letting her come for days until he got it out of her, that was what he was going to do.

Misfits

Beck

That evening, ten after eight . . .

Beck sat on his ass with his back to the headboard, feet in the bed, legs spread, eyes glued on Janna, trying hard not to come.

Jesus, what was happening?

She had a hand wrapped tight, working his shaft as she sucked hard at the head, alternately circling it with her tongue.

But anytime she got close to taking it to the limit, she backed off, stroking him deep with her mouth, full throated, working him up, taking her time, making it almost painful to stop himself from fucking her face.

And she wasn’t glancing up at him, checking his reaction.

Part of the brilliance of what she was doing was that she was all about his dick. Like sucking his cock nourished her or something.

It was phenomenal.

It was rocking his fucking world.

So much, that was all he could think about.

And not the weight in his gut.

“Babe,” he growled.

She didn’t even look at him.

She went from head action to doubling up, jacking him and stroking deep with her mouth, hand tight and draws wet, warm and heavy.

His hips started moving.

“Babe,” he warned.

She kept at him, tightening her fist and sliding her other hand down the inside of his thigh right to his balls, cupping them in her hand.

She’d never touched his boys.

It was like they didn’t exist for her.

Fuck.

He lost both her hands when she had to plant them in his thighs when his hips came off the bed and he started fucking her face.

Shit, she took that, her expression turning enraptured.

It was goddamned beautiful.

He fucked her faster.

It was then she lifted her eyes to his, and she was so there, so in the zone, so fucking getting off on this, Beck had no choice but to reach down to her, grasp her under her arms and drag her up his chest.

She straddled him, breathing heavily, and he shoved in at her back until it arched toward him.

He hadn’t managed to get her bra off before she started sucking his dick.

And he didn’t bother with getting it off then.

He just used both hands to tug the cups down, bunching the stretchy material under them which forced them together, high and tight—an invitation.

He bent and sucked a nipple hard.

She made a noise he felt draw up his balls and ground her pussy into his rock-solid cock.

She still had on her panties and they were drenched.

Saturated.

Jesus.

   
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