Page 16 of Pink Poison (The Butchers MC #1)

Seconds pass quickly, easily turning to minutes.

Minutes where his cock sits, holding his cum deep inside of me.

As much as I hate to admit it, it’s kind of hot.

Okay, there’s no kind of about it. It is hot.

“Not sure God had anything to do with that,” he huffs, slowly pulling himself from my soaked core.

“Fuck, but he might have had something to do with this gorgeous, swollen cunt.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I find myself somehow surprised that the man who just fucked me like a whore is staring in awe between my legs. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I snort.

His inklike eyes snap to mine with a heat that makes me think he wants to go another round. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

My eyes widen at his honesty, then between hating that I want him to take the picture and loving the fact that he will be getting off to me again.

Before I can mutter a rebuttal, his fingers slip through my folds and spread them open.

A bright flash blinks, bringing colored spots to temporarily obscure my vision.

“Did you just…” I gawk.

“I did.” He laughs. “It’s not as good as the real thing, but it’ll hold me over until I can sink my cock back into you.”

“What makes you think you get a repeat performance, Shawn?” I snark.

The sound of rustling fabric fills the silence that follows my question. Rolling my eyes, I reach down for my thong, ready to move on from whatever the fuck this just was. “Let me, doll,” he rasps, dragging the soiled garment further down my legs. “Lift your feet.”

I lift one foot at a time, stepping out of the garment before turning around. Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I situate my dress to cover my bare lower half. “Taking another souvenir?”

A devilish smile ticks at his mouth as he pockets the pink fabric inside his cut. “I need something to jerk my dick with when I look at the picture.”

“I regret asking.” I push him away from the stall door.

“Stevie,” he breathes, “I don’t chase.”

Smiling, I strut from the stall towards the bathroom door. “Then why did you chase me?”

“Blondie,” a low voice whispers as I walk through the bathroom door.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, revealing the cute blond with charming, dark blue eyes who stood next to the table while Max buried his fingers in me. “Cutie.” I smile, wiggling my fingers at the man.

He grins, boyish and charming. If I didn't know who he was with, I'd think he was cuter. “You’re not very quiet when you’re being pleasured, ya know.”

With a shrug, I walk past him in favor of the bar. “Why should I be quiet when it feels good? ”

“Don’t say that too loud.” He laughs. “You’ll give Stone a complex.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I wink. “I’d say he earned it.”

His gravelly laugh fades as I approach the bar, where the bartender from earlier moves easily to each customer.

She refills drinks and makes casual conversation flawlessly, naturally, even.

Honestly, it doesn’t even look like she’s paying attention.

It’s almost like she is on autopilot. Finding an empty stool away from the busy side of the bar, I slide over the cushioned fabric.

“I’ll be right with you,” she acknowledges without looking in my direction.

How the hell does she know I’m sitting here?

Resting my elbows on the bar top, my head collapses into my waiting hands as the reality of what happened tonight falls over me.

Atticus Lennon works in human trafficking with Creed Hill, and the Butchers are willing to look the other way to get what they want.

On top of that, I crossed a line I hadn’t thought about in years…

not since Jameson planted the seed in his truck the night he drove me out of the city.

His dirty confession warped something in me that day, placing Max in a position he has no business being in. And yet, I wanted it. I dreamt of it.

Five years was plenty of time for me to develop forbidden fantasies that starred my stepbrother and his best friend. Fantasies that should have stayed as fantasy. But, like the silly bitch karma is, she handed me part of my dreams with Max tonight.

And I loved every minute of it.

“Rough night?” the bartender asks.

Lifting my head, I take in her friendly expression as she pours a generous glass of rosé. “Yeah, you could say that,” I snort.

“This one is on the house.” She nods while pushing the comically full stemware towards me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I lift the glass to my lips with a teasing smirk. “What makes you think I like rosé?”

“I had a feeling you enjoy the good things in life,” she snorts. “That, and it’s as close to pink as I can get without turning it into a frat drink.”

Subtle, sweet, fruity flavors bubble over my tongue as I swallow a generous sip of the wine.

Goddamn. That’s good. Closing my eyes, I take a moment to enjoy the drink for what it is: a kindness that I desperately need.

“It’s perfect.” I sigh. “As for wanting to talk about it; how much time do you have?”

“As long as it takes,” she says. “I’m Del, by the way. I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

Smiling, I reach over the bar top and offer my hand. “Stevie.”

“Nice to meet you, Stevie.” She smiles, briefly shaking my hand. “So, what troubles you tonight? ”

I swallow another healthy swig of the wine before answering, “Do you want the long list or the short list?”

She eyes me, almost curiously. “Hit me with the whole list.”

“Five years ago, I dropped out of college, met my best friend, and became a stripper.” I laugh as her mouth parts in surprise.

“I had a four month fling with my stepbrother’s best friend…

unknowingly. Said brother found out I was dancing and ratted me out to our parents—who then disowned me.

After that, I fucked his best friend, knowing who he was, and was exiled by the MC they were part of. ”

“Ho-ly fuck,” she breathes.

Shaking my head, I can’t stop the self-deprecating laugh that falls from my lips. “That’s not even the bad part.”

Her brows lift in disbelief. “There’s more?”

“I just moved back into the city yesterday.” Jesus . How has it only been a day and everything is already so twisted? “I had a revenge plan and everything, ya know? I wanted to tell the MC that I was back for good, show them they can’t control me anymore.”

Her fist pounds against the bar harshly. “Damn straight they don’t. Fuck those guys.”

I choke on a laugh. “Oh, I have.”

“Sonuvabitch. It was those guys who were at the table?” Her hazel eyes narrow on the booth I previously sat at.

Grimacing, I bow my head to avoid her scrutiny. “Technically, I’ve only fucked two of them…”

“Hey,” she soothes, patting her hand over mine. “I’m not judging you.”

“You might once I tell you whose lap I was sitting on earlier,” I whisper.

She smirks devilishly. “Spill.”

“That was my stepbrother. ”

Her eyes widen as she bends below the counter. The sound of clinking glass bottles fills the lull in our conversation before she returns with a bottle of dark liquor. “We need something stronger than wine.”

A genuine laugh bubbles from my chest, lifting the weight that threatened to crush my shoulders. “What are we havin’, Del?”

“Whiskey, neat.” She pours the amber liquid in two short tumblers.

Sliding one glass in front of me, she huffs a humorless laugh.

“You need this more than I do.” I savor the smooth, bitter burn that only a top shelf whiskey can provide.

Alcohol was never a vice for me, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel like the world’s best remedy for this hellish night.

“Okay,” Del coughs, clearing her throat.

“So you sat on your brother’s lap—no big deal. ”

“ Stepbrother ,” I correct, “and it was a little more than just sitting, if you know what I mean.”

“Was it consensual?” she asks, the humor wiped completely off her face.

Her sudden seriousness sobers me. While it wasn’t my idea, I still willingly did it. Maxwell Waters Jr. is many things—like an asshole—but he’s not a predator. “It’s not something I would have done without prompting,” I hedge. “But I didn’t hate it while it was happening.”

As comfortable as I’ve become with my sexual prowess, I’ll withhold how much I actually liked it from Del. She seems nice, but the only person I can trust with that level of confidence is Teegan.

“So you don’t want me to ban him from the bar or kick his ass?” She smirks as she swipes our empty glasses from the bar.

The buzz of liquor finally hits while I part ways with the cushy barstool. “Not this time, but I’ll keep you in the loop for any future problems.”

“I’m here to help.” Her eyes sharpen, pinning me where I stand. “With anything—and I mean, anything. ”

“That sounds ominous,” I quip, adjusting my dress.

“I mean it, Stevie. If I can help, I will. ”

Smiling, I pat my hand over the counter. “Thanks, Del.”

“You’re welcome.” She nods before turning away from the counter. “Do you need a ride out of here?”

I open my mouth to tell her I’ll get a cab, when the scent of leather and motor oil engulfs me, making my head spin. “I’ll get her home, badass Del,” the gravelly voice from earlier responds for me.

“Touch her wrong, and I’ll fuck you up right here, Kash,” Del warns while pointing her finger in his direction, despite having her back turned to us.

How does she do that?

“Del, I thought we were friends,” he pouts. “I’m not a deviant like that .”

I stumble over my platforms, just barely catching myself on Kash’s arm. I’m pretty sure this man is more of a deviant than everyone in this room.

“Bold of you to assume we’re friends.” Del laughs. “Get out of my bar, Butcher.”