Page 8 of Pink Poison (The Butchers MC #1)

I fan my hair out as I walk around him, dragging my nails over his cut until I’m out of his sight.

The crowd shouts their excitement once I come back into their view.

With a flirtatious smile, I shimmy my chest before kicking my heel back into Stone’s ridiculously firm ass.

Before my budding laugh has a chance to slip free, a pair of hot, callused hands grip my hips.

My world tips over as I’m maneuvered like a goddamn ragdoll until I land on Stone’s hulking shoulder.

Oops. I guess he didn’t like that.

Frowning, I slap my hands over his back wildly. A sharp sting burns through the exposed flesh of my round cheeks followed by an obnoxiously loud crack. “Behave, pretty doll,” he growls.

“Eat shit, Butcher,” I snap, wiggling against his tight hold. “Let. Me. Go.”

Another sharp slap hits my ass, making me squeal louder than I anticipated. I fight to ignore the fluttering in my stomach that tells me I like how it feels to be manhandled. God, I need to get laid. “I’m pretty sure I told you to behave.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I told you to let me go, asshole.”

His frame vibrates with his laugh as he walks us further from the stage toward the locker room.

Lifting my head, I spot Teegan pushing her way out of the crowd with a look that could kill.

Her bright eyes find mine, loaded with concern and a whole heap of anger.

I offer her a small smile, just enough to appease her.

Whatever Stone wants, he’s not going to hurt me.

Not physically, anyway.

Nodding, she makes her way back towards the bar. The last thing I see before the door closes is another leather vest with an all too familiar white skull cracked down the middle. Behind the halves sit two crossed blood-spattered meat cleavers.

Fucking Butchers.

Faster than he hauled me to his shoulder, I’m back to my feet with an echoing clack around the room. Crossing his stupidly thick arms across his chest, he pins me with a dull stare. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“That sounds like a you problem,” I snort, dismissing his presence in favor of Teegan’s locker.

He chuckles, all deep and sexy like the asshole he is.

Dammit, Stevie. Stop thinking about how sexy he is and ignore him.

I roll my eyes at my internal voice of reason and pull out a pair of hot pink Spanx and the matching lace bralette.

Sitting on the bench, I move to untie my platforms when my undesired companion’s hand pulls the bow tail for me. “Let me help,” he breathes.

His soft words take me by surprise, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

If the man gets his jollies by getting on his knees to help strippers remove their shoes, I think I can handle that.

This time, it’s my turn to cross my arms. “Don’t fuck the ribbons up, they’re expensive,” I warn.

“You tied them too tight, doll.” His fingers trail over the fabric as he undoes the criss-cross pattern down to my ankle, revealing the light indentations on my shin.

“Yeah, no shit,” I scoff. “They need to be tight so they don’t slip down when I’m on the pole.”

Reaching for my other foot, he mumbles, “Is it weird if I say I hate these shoes now because they leave marks on your skin?”

I quirk my sculpted brow and stare at the man who just smacked my ass twice and likely left two visible handprints. “Says the man who probably left two bruises on my—”

Gently, he pulls the next ribbon down before tracing a finger over the cross pattern pitted on my flesh. “Those don’t count.”

A shiver of pleasure tickles its way up my leg, reminding me that it’s been too damn long since I’ve been touched this way. Fuck. It shouldn’t feel this good, but I’d be a damn liar if I said it didn’t. “Stone, what do you want?” I rasp.

His fingers dig into my calves with eerie precision, hitting every sore knot in his path.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he repeats.

My lips part with a low moan as he massages a particularly tender spot before traveling up my thighs.

Smirking, he spreads my legs apart, revealing my barely covered pussy.

“Do you like having my hands on you, pretty doll?” He teasingly grazes the growing wet spot on my thong.

Instead of speaking, I sigh and tilt my hips.

He hasn’t earned my voice, not yet anyway.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he rumbles as he traces my slit over the soft fabric.

Groaning, I cup what I can of my breasts and pinch my hardened, rosy peaks. He hooks a finger through my thong, pulling it to the side. “Look at you.” He puffs a breath of hot air over my throbbing clit. “Such a gorgeous pussy.”

I tense as he blows on the sensitive nerves again. Douche fuck. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I sass.

“Is that an offer?” he asks before lashing his tongue over my clit.

Dear God, he has a tongue ring. His deviant chuckle vibrates around the locker room, full of dark and desperate promise.

As much as I loathe what he is, I’m not stupid enough to turn down whatever the hell he plans to do now.

“I don’t think God had much to do with the piercing. ”

He laughs before diving between my legs like a man starved.

Lifting my legs to his shoulders, I throw myself back on the bench to lift my hips higher.

It doesn’t take long for me to reach the edge, fueled by the need to chase the pressure of his tongue.

An embarrassing cry escapes me every time he denies me, alternating his tongue from my clit to slit.

“Let. Me. Come,” I whine as I squeeze his head with my thighs.

His tongue disappears completely as he pulls away with a devilish glint in his eyes. “Only good girls get to come, and we both know you’re not a good girl, doll.”

I rip my legs away with a snarl, hating that the fucker managed to get me going. “You’re a prick.”

“And you need to leave, Stevie.” He licks his lips that glisten with my pleasure. “You’re lucky I didn’t call Prez here.”

I hold his stare while I grab my shorts and thread my feet through them before I start begging for him to finish what he started. “Fuck your precious Prez ,” I bite.

“I hear that’s more your thing.” He shrugs. “Although, I’m not sure you’re his type anymore.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He snorts as he steps back towards the wall while grabbing his obvious hard-on. “Graves’ tastes are a little different these days, doll.”

Jameson…

Turning on my heel, I quickly grab my bralette and pull it over my chest. I refuse to give Stone more of a show when he had more than his fair fill.

Honestly, he’s lucky that I let him even taste my pussy.

That’s more than I’ve given up in months.

Digging through Teegan’s locker, I pull out a set of pink, fuzzy slippers and slip them over my toes.

“I didn’t realize there was a change in leadership.” I sigh.

Clearly I missed some things around here, not that I can blame anyone but myself.

I didn’t want to know jack shit while I was banished .

I was hurt, and rightfully pissed as fuck.

There was nothing worth knowing here besides Teegan’s personal life updates and this club. If that makes me a bitch, so be it .

“A lot has happened, none of it good,” he says. Folding his arms across his chest, he pivots the conversation. “I’ll pass along your message, but don’t be surprised when we run you out again.”

“Good luck, Butcher,” I droll as I grab my phone before slamming Teegan’s locker shut. “I told you I was back for good.”

With my phone in hand, I step over the ribbon heels sprawled on the ground. Teegan will have to grab them later, I’m over being stuck in this room with this asshole.

“You know what they say about all good things,” he warns.

They must come to an end.