Page 4 of Pink Poison (The Butchers MC #1)

Bile creeps up my throat at the thought of being accosted by Max again. I don’t know what else he could do to me, and I’m not willing to find out. “R-Right. That makes sense.”

“He fucking hates you,” he states, foregoing any previous sweet nature he showed me before today. Dick.

Blowing out a sharp breath, I take the hit and let it wash over me.

Sure, Max and I were never close, but I at least thought of him as family once upon a time.

I wasn’t all that young when Mom married Maxwell Senior.

Max came to live with his dad, teenage angst and all.

I knew he disliked me back then, but for some reason it hurts to hear that he hates me more than I thought it would.

The truck swerves sharply to the left, taking us towards the big city—away from the place I’ve called home for the last five months.

Rumbling from his truck’s engine is the only thing keeping us from complete silence, granting me enough peace to close my eyes for a moment.

“I didn’t mean it,” he rasps. “I don’t think you’re a whore.”

Rolling my head against the headrest, I look at the man who has warmed my bed more often than I care to admit now that I know the truth of who he is. “Then why’d you say it?” I ask, hating that my words wobble noticeably.

“I was…I don’t know, goading Mack I guess.” He sighs, taking a hand off the wheel to wipe down his face. “I thought if I pointed out you were what he claimed, he’d just leave well enough alone.”

“A lot good that did ya,” I snark. If my eyes didn’t burn so bad, I’d roll them at his shit attempt to help. “How’d you even know it was me? I hardly recognize you.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly. “It’s going to sound stupid as hell.”

“Tonight can’t get any worse, Jameson.”

“Your pink gym bag. The times we crossed paths before, you always had it with you,” he confesses. “I put two and two together when I realized that Stevie is a nickname for Stephanie.”

My lips part as my jaw falls from his sudden epiphany.

All of this happened because of a fucking gym bag. Is he serious?

“Are you kidding me?” I murmur. “My bag gave it away, a normal fucking bag and all of a sudden you just knew it was me?”

I hone in on his cheeks as they flush lightly, giving him a boyish appearance in place of the rugged biker he’s supposed to be.

“You loved that bag.” He shrugs like that was the obvious answer. “I guess it just stuck with me, the memory of you with it. ”

“I did love the bag, still do,” I admit. “It’s the only thing I kept with me after I left school.”

“What!” He slams on the brakes suddenly, jerking the truck in the middle of the road.

I turn back to the window, not wanting to see the inevitable pity in his stare. “I sold everything else to try and make my tuition payments.”

“Jesus Christ, Stephanie,” he rumbles while easing back on the gas pedal. “Why didn’t you call Senior or Marissa?”

His question wedges between the pieces of my heart, spreading the shards of regret wider.

Pride. Shame. Fear. “Didn’t want to burden them with my mistake or something like that,” I whisper.

My warm breath fogs the window, temporarily distracting me from the reopened wound within my chest. The lively late-night scenery of the city around us fades quickly as we breach the county line, heading towards the interstate.

“I’ll take you across the Mississippi, that should be far enough for the night.”

Closing my eyes, I will my heart to stop beating against my ribs, “Okay.” I sigh, accepting that this will be for the best.

“Wake up, beautiful,” Jamie’s voice whispers as a warm, callused hand cups my face. Damn, this is a good dream. He laughs, deep and gravelly. “Not a dream, but you did fall asleep. ”

My eyes flutter open only to see Jamie staring softly at me. “Sorry,” I groan. “How long was I out for?”

“‘Bout twenty minutes or so,” he mumbles, stroking his thumb under my makeup-crusted eye. “I thought you could do with some rest.”

Licking my bottom lip, I nuzzle my cheek against his hand and soak in the small comfort he’s offering.

It may not be the smartest thing I’ve done, but tonight seems like a good night for making mistakes.

Besides, I don’t want to think about how much everything hurts or how I feel like I’m stuck in an endless freefall.

He releases a deep groan, tracking the path of my tongue. “You can’t tease me like this, Stephanie.”

“Who says I’m teasing, Graves ? ” I flirt before pulling my lip between my teeth.

A wisp of lust tickles down my spine as his thumb travels down to my mouth, pulling my lip from between my teeth. “You shouldn’t be biting on those kissable lips,” he gently reprimands.

“Why?” I exhale harshly, blowing a loose strand of hair from my face. “It’s not like I have anyone to kiss them right now.”

Faster than I can blink, his firm lips are pressed against mine.

He coaxes my mouth to part by flicking his hot tongue.

Moaning, I open my mouth for him, too damn obedient to his demands.

His teeth lightly nip at my tongue, successfully pulling me into his orbit.

I hate it as much as I love it. Jameson Hargrave is everything that I want, but nothing that I need .

He is the embodiment of my selfishness now that I know who he is.

And yet, I can’t find a single reason to care.

Slowly, he pulls away. Our short pants mingle into one, fogging the windows of his truck. “One last dance?”

Lifting my ass from the seat, I tug my stretchy sweatpants down my hips.

Before he can change his mind, I toe my shoes off, leaving both to sit on the dirty footwell.

It takes a little more effort than I care to admit, but I manage to clumsily maneuver myself over the center console and straddle his lap.

“Last dance, Graves,” I puff against his mouth, rotating my hips in a slow circle over his groin.

“Fuck.” His hands grip my waist punishingly. “Take your shirt off for me,” he commands.

I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head with ease.

My heavy breasts bounce freely in his face, having been completely bare underneath.

Goosebumps dance across my flesh as his deep breaths ghosts over my dusty peaks, hardening them to points that beg for his mouth on them.

Arching my back, I beg, “Touch me, please.”

“With pleasure,” he groans as his fingers dig into my waist. Capturing a stiffened peak between his wetted lips, he suckles until my eyes roll back.

Wetness seeps between my legs and onto his jeans as his tongue flutters between both tips.

I rock my hips faster, letting the burn that licks low in my abdomen spread through my veins.

Sucking in a sharp hiss, my fingers thread through his short, dark hair, tugging the root as he nips at my pebbled flesh. “Ah, fuck. That feels s-so good.”

His moan vibrates against my heavy chest, spurring me to grind against his hardening cock.

A sharp pinch triggers a flood of arousal from my core, soaking his already dampened pants.

Releasing my sore peak from his teeth, his hands dive between us to undo his button and zipper, enough to release his thick, swollen head.

It pushes out just enough to brush against my bare mound.

“Lift for me, beautiful. I need to feel that pretty pussy squeezing around me,” he rasps.

Lifting on my knees, he bucks his hips up to drag his jeans down enough for his full length to spring forward.

A pleased sigh leaves me as his precum-slicked tip taps gently against my swollen, arousal-coated folds.

I reach my hand between us and guide his pulsing cock between my slit, teasing the entrance of my soaking core.

“Tell me what you wish you could do to me, Graves,” I pant, working his tip inside of me .

“Oh, hell,” he groans, jerking his hips to force his way in. “I want to fuck those gorgeous tits of yours—so fucking bad.”

I ease another half inch of his solid length in me. Clenching my walls around him, I coax him to continue. “What else? Tell me your dirtiest secret.”

“Fuck. You’re a damn succubus.” I smirk at the compliment, because that’s what it is and I refuse to believe otherwise. “I wanna have you bouncing on my cock while Mack watches. I want him to watch me fill his little stepsister’s perfect cunt,” he confesses.

Why do I like the way that sounds?

A rush of adrenaline and lust flows through me.

It’s overwhelming, intoxicating… addictive.

Taking his opportunity, he rolls his hips smoothly—just like he has every time we’ve been together.

My head falls back, exposing my neck as he continues to roll his hips, continuously hitting the right spot with every thrust. A low moan works its way from my throat when a firm pressure grazes over my sensitive nub.

“Filthy girl. Do you like that idea? Me filling your pretty pink cunt while your brother watches.”

“Y-Yes,” I hiss.

“Keep squeezing my cock like that, beautiful.” His mouth seals around my tender nipple again.

He rolls his tongue over my sensitive flesh until I scream his name in ecstasy.

Just when I thought I could predict his next move, he hastens through my pleasure, slamming into me without a care.

If anyone were to walk by, they would one hundred percent see his truck rocking and hear my heated cries.

Another wave of adrenaline builds lower, almost like my bladder is suddenly full. Too full. I need him to stop, like right now. If he doesn’t I’m going to—“Shit. St-Stop! Graves, I’m going to pi—”

He pulls off my breast, leaving a burning sting in his wake.

“Then piss, ‘cause I’m about to pump you full.” What.

The. Fuck. Sparks dance behind my eyes as he continues to thrust, splashing our mixture of pleasure and the faint scent of urine between us.

“Fuck, that’s it. Let it go, baby.” He lazily pumps his hips, coaxing another gush of poignant fluid from my body.

My cheeks heat with embarrassment, knowing that I just peed— mostly unwillingly —on the man’s cock. “Jamie.”

“I want to smell you on me later, tomorrow…” inhaling deeply, he drives his point home, “...weeks from now, even. I want Mack to sit in this truck and know that you were here by the scent of you on the cloth of my seat.”

“Oh my God,” I mumble as I slump bonelessly against his chest.

Our hearts race in rhythm until his length softens inside of me. He slides out easily with the extra lubrication with a whisper on his tongue. “Your bus is here.” Smoothing down the back of my hair, he holds my head against him. “I got your ticket while you were sleeping earlier.”

My stomach drops like the wind is being knocked out of my lungs.

It was just a pity fuck. Patting his chest, I wiggle out of his hold and throw myself over the console.

It takes everything to ignore the warm fluid leaking from between my legs while I rush to pull my sweatpants back up and put my shirt on.

My feet slide back into my ragged shoes while I reach into the back seat and snatch my gym bag.

“Thanks.” I push the rusty passenger door open.

“Stephanie!” he shouts as I haul ass out of the truck.

Quickly, I run towards the station to purchase a different ticket.

I’ll be damned if I go where he has decided I’ll go.

My fingers wrap around the handle when my feet lift weightlessly from the ground.

Bulging arms constrict around my abdomen like a python with its prey.

Fitting since Jameson Hargrave is a fucking snake.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Fuck you, Hargrave,” I spit. Disappointment morphs into rage, rage unlike anything I have ever felt. It’s a conduit, channeling waves of conviction straight to my heart. “I can buy myself a ticket. I don’t need you knowing where the hell I end up. ”

His arms slacken enough for the tips of my toes to touch the ground again. “I can’t help you if I don’t know where you are,” he murmurs against my ear, eliciting a shiver with memory of what we just did freshly burned into my brain.

“I don’t need your help.”

“We both know that’s a lie, Stephanie.”

Gritting my teeth, I throw my head back to connect with his nose. The pain is tolerable compared to the wreckage in my heart. “ Stephanie doesn’t exist anymore. It’s Stevie.”

My feet touch the ground completely as his arms drop heavily to his sides, leaving me to walk away without a second look behind me.

I don’t need his pity or his help. I don’t need family or friends.

I just need me. I will make something for myself, something that no one can take from me or hold over me.

My name is Stevie Waters, and I won’t let a man stand in my way ever again.