Thrust/Throb: Lost Devils MC - Book 2 Read online

  “Well, that’s good, but I’m also worried about you.”

  I grin. “I’m good.”

  “No one’s too good to not ask for a fucking hand if they need it.”

  “And if I do, I know who to call.”

  He shakes his head. “Goddamn you’re a stubborn prick, you know that?”

  “That why you can’t quit me?”

  I grin as Shepherd sighs.

  “Listen, just…” he shakes his head. “Just watch your back, and be careful, aright?”

  “Hey,” I grin widely. “You know me.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Delphine

  “I heard he’s a spy or some shit.”

  Most of the time, when I’m being forced to be somewhere with Barnes, I tune out. I daydream, I bury myself in my phone, or literally anything to distract me from the fact that I’m with him, pretending to be “his” while we’re out in public. But this time, something about the direction the conversation some of his crew is having is gets my attention.

  “A spy? Dude, no.”

  “Yeah, man! That’s why he’s got the James Bond accent.”

  They’re talking about Oliver, and now, Barnes’s guys have my full attention. We’re sitting up in the crappy homemade box seat, listening to the sounds of motors rumbling as tonight’s races get ready to begin.

  Jay, Bryce’s asshole of a second in command, sighs heavily. “Bro, you’re fucking retarded,” he grunts at the guy with the shaved head and spiderweb tattoo on his neck. “He’s got the accent because he’s fucking British.”

  “Fuckin’ exactly. Just like James fuckin’ Bond, man!”

  God, where does Barnes even find these guys?

  “Bond is fucking Scottish, you dipshits,” Bryce grunts, glancing back from his spot at the railing overlooking the track.

  “Nah, boss,” Jay shakes his head. “Well, yeah, one of him was. Connery is Scottish. But the rest of them are British.”

  “The rest of them?” Spider-neck-tattoo, who’s name I’ve literally never had an interest in remembering, says with a quizzical look on his face.

  “Bro, he’s not a clone, there’s just one James Bond.”

  Jay slams back his beer. “Nah, I mean the actors playing him in the movies.”

  “Oh, for sure,” the guy grunts. “But I mean the real James Bond. The one they made the movies about.”

  I shake my head and look away, honestly bewildered. Down below, there’s the sound of an airhorn and the roar of gunning motorcycle engines, and Bryce yanks his head around to glare at his guys.

  “Hey!” he barks. “Shut the fuck up, they’re about to go.”

  I move towards the railing too, my eyes scanning the crowd until they land on the red and black Ducati, and the man in black leather and perfectly fitting jeans standing next to it, helmet in hand. He runs his fingers through his long hair, and I feel the tingle of heat buzz through me. He glances up, like he knows I’m looking at him, and when he spots me, I bite my lip when I see the fire in his eyes even from up here.

  The riders for the first race line up, the announcer hypes up the crowd, and the flag gets raised. There’s a horn, the flag drops, and pure thunder roars across the old racetrack as the riders blast off. But I don’t watch it—my eyes just stay glued on Oliver the whole damn time.

  …Just like his are glued on mine.

  When the heat is over, the crowds cheer and go back to milling around and drinking beer down below. Most of Barnes’s crew heads off to grab more drinks, leaving me, Jay, and Barnes in the booth. I immediately pull my phone out to distance myself, but when I glance up, Jay and Barnes are huddled close, about four feet from me at the second of the two small tables set up.

  “Hey, so I heard back from that dude.”

  Jay looks surprised. “The British guy?”

  Barnes nods. “Yep.”

  “And he still wants him?”

  Barnes chuckles. “I don’t know what that English cocksucker did to this guy, but he wants Gauge, bad.”

  “Damn, no shit.”

  “Lookin’ to pay some serious cash for his ass, too.”

  My blood chills. Wait, what? I swallow thickly, staring at my phone like something’s got my full attention. But I lean in, my ears trying to perk up to get every detail about what Barnes and Jay are talking about.

  “So, what’s the play gonna be?”

  “Gonna be?” Barnes smiles thinly. “The play is already in play. He means business, an he’s got the money. So, we’re gonna make it happen.”

  Jay whistles. “Shit, boss. What’s he got left on his debt? Oliver, I mean.”

  Barnes snickers. “Fuck if I care. I could bleed him of his winnings over the next five fucking years. Or I could serve him up hot to this British fucker who’s gonna pay about five times what Oliver owes me.”

  “Fuck!” Jay laughs. “Soon?”

  “Yeah. I’ll let him pay me up for a few more big wins. But then I’m kicking his ass back to England, in fucking pieces if this dude pays enough.”

  My heart races, my skin prickling with fear and adrenaline. Out on the track, the second heat lines up, including Oliver. I stand and watch as the flag raises and then drops, and the crowd of them roar off down the track.

  “Hey, Bryce?”

  He frowns when he turns to me, but then he smiles broadly. “Yeah, baby?” He grins and elbows Jay before he nods his chin at me. “You already wanting more from earlier, huh?”

  Jesus, I hate this game. This “pretend relationship” Barnes perpetuates for his own image extends to his own guys, too. To them, I really am “his girl,” which includes his disgusting bragging to them about all the ways he’s “made me feel good” right in front of me. It’s nauseating.

  “Man, she couldn’t get enough earlier,” he snickers to Jay with a lewd grin. His second in command chuckles, high fiving him.

  “Nice, Barnesy.”

  I bite my tongue, knowing that correcting or shutting Barnes down in front of his guys is a great way to get smacked around later.

  “Aww, I wish!” I say sweetly, my voice dripping with disdain for him. “But actually. I gotta go.”

  “What the fuck for?” he growls, frowning.

  I sigh and hold up my phone. “The diner called. They’re pretty swamped over there and could use some help.”

  Barnes frowns. “So? Fuck ‘em.”

  “Bryce, c’mon, they need my help.”

  He sighs. “Fine, fine.” He smiles a fake smile at me. “Aright baby, I’ll let you go this once.”

  Go fuck yourself.

  “Thanks, Bryce.”

  I step out of the booth, ignoring the “Bro, she can barely take half of it” from Barnes’s douchebag mouth, followed by Jay’s chuckle as I walk away. I roll my eyes, skirting around the crowd and making my way towards the storage units some of the riders who are coming from further away than Dark Water Falls use. I know that when he doesn’t see me up in the stands, Oliver will look for me here. And I like that I know that.

  I really, really like that I know that.

  Sure enough, not ten minutes goes by before I hear his Ducati rumble around the corner. He comes to a stop as I stand from where I’ve been sitting against his storage unit.

  “Nice race.”

  “Thanks. You looking for an autograph?”

  I grin, and so does he, and we stand there a foot apart before we crash into each other. I moan as his lips taste mine, his hands holding me tight and pinning me to the door of the unit. But slowly, I pull back, my brow furrowing.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Barnes is…” I shake my head. “Oliver, he’s up to something.”

  “Angel,” he growls into my lips as he kisses me. “I don’t give a bloody fuck about Barnes.”

  I frown. “Well, you should. Oliver, I’m serious, he and Jay were scheming. Something about a British guy?”

  He scowls. “What?”<
br />
  “That’s all I got. Some British guy they want to sell you out to. Any idea what that’s about?”

  His frown deepens, and he reaches up to push his hair back from his face.

  “No, actually.”

  “Oliver—”

  “Delphine, I really don’t.” He smiles as he cups my face and leans in to kiss me again. “But I’m not worried about it. Barnes is always scheming some bullshit plans about world domination, when all he’s really ever going to do is keep selling Oxy to junkies and pimping that second-hand Escalade of his.”

  I smile wryly, but something unsettling lingers inside of me.

  “Hey, don’t be worried,” he purrs softly.

  “Well, I am,” I whisper back, wrapping my arms around him. “Oliver, I know Barnes comes off as this cringey tool, but he’s…” I frown. “He’s dangerous. He’s a lot more dangerous than you think.”

  “I’ve squared off with much worse than Bryce Barnes,” Oliver says quietly. “Much, much worse. I’m not trying to downplay you being worried but trust me. Compared to some of the riffraff I’ve come up against? Barnes is a bloody puppy dog.” He grins. “A puppy dog with erectile dysfunction, apparently.”

  I grin and roll my eyes, but that feeling won’t go away.

  “Oliver—”

  “Let’s forget about Barnes, okay?”

  I frown. “Will you just listen to me?”

  “I am,” he growls.

  “No, you’re not!” I snap. “Is life just one big joy ride for you, just waiting to spin out and crash?”

  His jaw tightens, and something fierce burns hot behind his eyes.

  “Sorry, I just—”

  “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, it was,” he growls. “Until I met you.”

  I try and hang on to my pout and frown, but damn does he make it hard. And soon enough, I crack, and the smile breaks free.

  “There it is,” he growls quietly, grinning as he leans in to kiss me. “Angel, I promise, I’m not dismissing this. I just don’t process threats by worrying.”

  I nod, squeezing him tight.

  “Can we get out of here?”

  I blush, nodding eagerly. “Yes, please. Where to?”

  Slowly, Oliver grins. “Ready for a drive?”

  I smile. “Where are we going?”

  “Home,” he growls. “I want to show you Blackthorn Mountain.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Oliver

  Her moans sink into me like a whispered prayer, her lips open and her eyes hooded and locked onto mine as we move. Her body undulates under me, her molten heat pulling me deeper, her legs keeping me there, and her sweet little pussy milking me for all I’m worth.

  I growl, thrusting into her, sinking every inch of my cock deep inside. Her nails rake down my back, and I bury my face in her neck. I kiss and bite and suck my way lower, down over the swell of her perfect breasts to tease her nipples with my tongue. Her thighs tighten around my hips, urging me on, pulling me deeper.

  But I’m already so deep into this woman I know there’s no way I’ll ever be pulled away.

  I pull back, letting my eyes sweep over her as we move together. She undulates on the bed under me, rocking with me and falling with me as we tumble towards that edge. She grabs my hips as I move faster, pounding into her as her moans crescendo. I look down and groan at the sight of my thick, glistening cock sinking into her, her pretty pink pussy stretched so obscenely around my size. I growl, a savage feeling and a need to mate and to claim roaring through me as I bury my cock to the hilt in her.

  I wasn’t looking for her, and I never saw her coming. But for the first time in my life, that need to keep moving, and to never look back, and to never once even touch the brakes is fading away. For the first time in my life, I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to run.

  All I want is right here, breathing my air, rocking her hips against mine, and dragging me roaring over that edge.

  I crush my lips to hers, swallowing her scream of pleasure as I start to fuck her hard and deep. Her legs tighten around me, her nipples drag across my chest, and her hands slide into my hair. She moans my name again and again, gasping and panting and whimpering as the pressure builds and the heat begins to ignite us both.

  “Come for me,” I growl into her lips. “Come with me.”

  One hand cups her jaw, then other grips her hip tightly, possessively, as I rut into her. I pound my thick cock into that sweet, honeyed little cunt over and over until suddenly, she breaks first. With a broken cry of pleasure, Delphine shatters under me, moaning out her organs as it thunders through her.

  I groan, and the feel of her sweet little pussy rippling up and down my length has my balls tightening and my pulse roaring. With a growl, I bury my cock as deep into her as I can possibly get, and I explode. Our lips crash together as I erupt, pumping rope after sticky rope of hot cum deep inside of her. We stay like that—panting, gasping for air, and holding each other tight, like a storm might touch down and rip us apart.

  With a groan, I finally pull away from her and roll onto my back. I pull her into me, and Delphine purrs happily as she curls against me, one leg and one arm over me as she leans in and kisses my chest. My hand lazily strokes her hair, the moonlight shining in brightly through the window of my cabin.

  “Yeah, so, I think I like Blackthorn,” she murmurs.

  I chuckle. “Guess we didn’t see much of it.”

  “Well, not yet,” she grins, raising her head up and biting her lip. “But I really like this part.”

  I shake my head. “A bed. Fuck me, who knew?”

  “Yeah, you know, I think you just spoiled me. I’m not sure if I can ever go back to diner countertops and the seat of your bike again.”

  “Never ever, huh?”

  She blushes. “Well, a girl could be convinced.”

  I chuckle and pull her close, kissing the top of her head.

  “Tell me something no one knows about you.”

  I smile and raise my head to look down at her.

  “No one, huh?”

  She looks up, holding my eye. “Yeah.”

  I whistle slowly. “Well, get ready, it’s a big one.”

  “Ooo, this sounds juicy.” She scrambles up to sit cross-legged, and I grin hungrily as my eyes drop between her legs.

  “You keep sitting like that with no clothes on and a man might have a hard time concentrating on the story.”

  “Oh, like this?”

  She bites her lips and slowly spreads her legs wide. I groan and go to reach for that petty little pussy, but she giggles and slaps my hand away.

  “No, tell me first!”

  She curls her legs under her, and I grin.

  “Alright, alright. You sure you’re ready?”

  She nods, her eyes wide.

  “When I was ten, I walked right into this pub called The Vanguard, and when no one was looking, I nicked a pint right off the counter and ran out. Drank half of it and thought I was going to be spinning forever.”

  She snorts a laugh. “Wait, that’s the big story no one knows?”

  “Hey, it is what it is.”

  Delphine rolls her eyes. “I’m calling bullshit. I want a better one.”

  I snort a laugh. “Alright. This isn’t one no one knows, but not many do.”

  “Fire away.”

  “I’ve got a twin brother.”

  She blinks, her brows raising. “Wait, really?”

  I nod.

  “Paternal or identical?”

  “Identical, identical. We’re carbon copies. Even got similar ink. The wanker even grew a beard and let his hair grow out like mine.”

  She snorts a laugh. “Wait, that’s amazing! What’s his name?”

  “Asa.”

  “Is he over here too? In the US, I mean.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t actually know. He was back in England the last time we talked, but that was two months ago.”

  She frowns. “You guys aren’t clo
se?”

  “Oh, we are, we’re just not big talkers.” She snorts, and I arch a brow. “Funny. Alright, your turn.”

  “Something no one knows?”

  I nod, and she sucks her teeth.

  “I dunno, I’m pretty boring.”

  “I very much disagree.”

  She smiles shyly, and maybe a little sadly, and I frown.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “My tattoo is a cover-up,” she says quietly, swallowing. She holds her arm up, and my eyes slide over the swirls of flowers and ferns that curl down her arm from, shoulder to elbow.

  “My dad, he…” she looks down, her lips pursing. “He’s not a good man. And I don’t just mean the thing with Barnes, or the drug selling. My mom died when I was pretty young. Eventually I went to my Grams to live, but before he could get rid of me, my dad just liked reminding me how much of a burden I was. Or making sure I hurt whenever the world kicked him down.”

  My jaw clenches, a fury beginning to swell inside of me. She swallows and holds her arm up to the moonlight coming in from the window.

  “My dad’s a smoker, and he’d… well…”

  She twists her arm under the moonlight, and suddenly, I can see the little raised circles mostly hidden under her tattoo ink. Little circles the diameter of a cigarette.

  “Motherfucker,” I breathe before I pull her into my arms. She holds me tight, and my jaw grinds as I stroke her back and keep her right there, close to me, protected by me.

  She clears her throat and pulls away, wiping a single tear from the corner of her eye.

  “Wow,” she half laughs, sniffing back the tear. “Great story, huh? Really sets the mood for round two.”

  I grin and pull her close again, and this time, she raises her face to mine and sears her lips to mine. She kisses me slow and deep, melting into me. She pulls away, and my eyes dart over her face as I stroke her cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” I growl softly.

  She shrugs. “The past is the past.” She frowns. “Ugh, why did I bust that one out? I totally just killed the mood and I was hoping for another round.”

  I chuckle and lean in to kiss her softly.