Summer Pain Page 3

  “I thought you were gone,” she said, shifting her hips and blushing like crazy.

  “Don’t move your hand,” he told her. The firmness in his voice left her visibly shaken.

  “But—”

  “No, Summer,” he said, sitting next to her and pressing his fingertips against her pretty little mouth.

  Her wicked lips parted, and she drew his fingers inside the warm depths of tantalizing heat. Her tongue traveled around and around, circling the knuckle until his cock was pulsing with lust.

  “Fuck yourself.” He stared at her pussy. His mouth watered as he thought of what she might taste like, how much he would enjoy sipping at her snatch, feeling her grind against his chin as he brought her to pleasure and stroked her with his tongue. “Let me watch.”

  “But—”

  “No excuses. No explanations. I’m gonna watch you while you finger yourself.” He placed his arm over her hip and glanced down at her recently waxed mound. Good Lord, he was in heaven here. He must’ve been a complete idiot to pass out on her the night before.

  Her small breasts rose and fell as she pushed her hand forward. He eyed the perfect gems, resisting the urge to suckle her nipples. He wanted to cradle her fullness in his palms and just lose himself in those lush mounds.

  He wondered then because he couldn’t help but consider their obvious differences. What was she doing with a man like him? She was beautiful, classy, and clearly used to the finer things in life. But, for the moment, she appeared quite interested in him.

  “Spread your legs.” He pulled her thighs apart, determined to take the lead before she even thought about denying him.

  “Tigger, I don’t feel comfortable with your demands.”

  Damn. Fuck. Damn again.

  His gaze surfed the length of her body before he reluctantly rose to his feet. He’d pushed too hard, too soon.

  He expected a lot and wouldn’t apologize for those expectations. He’d recently left one relationship where the woman wasn’t open to his dominance. He’d vowed then he’d never have another unless his needs—every last one of them—were met.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is just new to me.”

  Cupping her cheek, he said, “You don’t need to explain, Summer. You’re a beautiful woman. You’re sexy as all hell, and I’m as horny as I’ve ever been.”

  She stopped playing with herself and rolled to her side. The slick, transparent film covering her fingers was his undoing. His prick danced in his jeans, and the head of his cock pulsed with significant frustration.

  “I’m not the man you need,” he said, running a flattened palm across the top of his head. “Go home to the kind of men you’re used to. Find a fella who can support your lifestyle and provide for you in every way possible. Don’t settle, Summer. When you do, it never works out.”

  “I’m not asking you for a commitment here,” she told him, disappointment marking its place in her eyes. “I just wanted you to slow down a bit.”

  “That’s probably true, but the type of woman I want in my bed isn’t the kind of woman you want to be for me, not even for a little while.”

  “You don’t know.”

  “Trust me, Summer, I do. And all I’ll cause you is unnecessary pain.”

  * * * *

  Tigger entered the clubhouse in a hell of a mood. He was pissed off because he’d had an eager and willing sex partner in the throes of pleasuring herself, and he’d somehow screwed up and made her uncomfortable. In the end, he’d walked away unsatisfied.

  The ride home from Johnson City’s posh hotel had taken him at least an hour and a half, instead of the normal thirty minutes. He’d turned his bike around three different times. On each occasion, he’d contemplated how he might return to her, how he could approach the sensitive subject of what he needed from a woman, what he expected to have from the next lover he took to his bed.

  By the time he reached the clubhouse, he was as angry as he was horny, and as luck would have it, the parking lot was empty with one exception—a familiar lime green pickup truck.

  “Fucking great,” he muttered, realizing who he would likely encounter as soon as he walked in the bar.

  Within a few seconds of slinging his leather jacket over the chair next to him and taking a seat, Cara stood in front of him. “I don’t want to talk about us, Mama.”

  “I was worried about you,” she said, ignoring what she’d likely consider a slur, the connotation to hint at her position within the club.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine.” She retrieved a longneck from the cooler and set the bottle in front of him.

  “I’d rather have an orange juice.”

  She frowned. “Tied one on last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you with anyone I know?”

  He lifted his chin and defiantly replied, “Summer.”

  As if he’d slapped her across the face, Cara reached in the cooler, grabbed a carton of orange juice and threw the small container at his chest before marching away. “Fuck you, Tigger.”

  He leaped over the wooden bar and grabbed hold of her wrists. “You will, Cara.” His gaze pierced through hers. “Fuck me, that is. You can count on that one.”

  “Let me go, Tigger,” she said, twisting and turning, trying to break free.

  “Not yet,” he growled, keeping his grip firm. “I’m not done with you.”

  “How dare you!” She glared at him. “You fuck another woman, and then you come in here looking for me?”

  “You suck another man’s dick and have the audacity to ask me where I’ve been?” His nose wrinkled as he considered where else her mouth might have been.

  “You wanted her,” Cara accused. “I heard it in your voice.”

  “And I could’ve had her,” he said, wondering now if his reasons for refusing Summer had everything to do with his need to claim Cara one last time, just to make sure there wasn’t anything left between them.

  “If you could’ve had her, you would’ve,” Cara spat, tears welling in her eyes.

  “Don’t do that,” Tigger said, lifting her shirt and staring at those voluptuous breasts, boobs every man in the club had seen at least once, if not by experience, at least by observation.

  For a woman her age, Cara was still built like a twenty year old, minus a number of wrinkles. Her boobs could’ve made most women in their thirties green with envy.

  “So I take it the gal’s chest wasn’t large enough for ya?” Cara asked. Hurt and anger settled into her saddened expression as the accusation strummed through her voice.

  Tigger unhooked his belt. He was as hard as a cannon and knew how to ease the discomfort.

  While Cara was only a temporary fix now, she was familiar. She had been his woman for several years. He’d almost made the detrimental error of proposing to her, of making her his wife, and all because of his damned romantic notions. He had always been in love with the idea of being in love, of finding one special person.

  Cara’s eyes were hooded. Lust existed there, but while the desire might have been present, the love had always been nonexistent.

  Bracing her body against his, he snapped the leather away from his belt loops. It landed on the floor as he locked her legs around his waist and kissed her. Bunching her hair in his hands, he held her against the wall and pressed his leather-clad cock against her hot center, grinding against her until she was breathless.

  Cara used his shoulders for leverage. She climbed him like a sturdy ladder, one that would not waiver, would not fall.

  “Tigger,” she whispered, combing her fingers through his hair. “Fuck me, Tigger. Here. Now. Please take me.”

  “I will, woman,” he promised, cursing his cock for not complying. He’d been as hard as steel until she started coming undone.

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  He dismissed his soft cock and thrust against her. If she went down on him, she’d help him resolve the problem.

  “G
ive me head,” he rasped, tweaking her nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

  Cara leaned back and looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time. “Why? Are you suddenly too good to fuck me?”

  “No,” he replied, knowing good and damn well she could feel his limp dick, how he couldn’t even get a hard on for her now.

  “All right,” she said, fumbling with the buttons on his jeans before unzipping him. She gave him a solid yank, tugging his dick away from his briefs.

  Dropping to her knees, she licked the end of his cock. She swirled her tongue around the crest and tweaked the tiny slit at the top, tantalizing the head until his prick lengthened, his balls throbbed.

  “That’s it, baby,” he rasped, gripping the table behind him as he pumped his hips. “Suck my dick, woman. Take me to your throat.”

  Cara cupped his balls and ran her fingers over the tight veins, tracing his pulsing member as she teased him.

  “That’s a good girl,” he said, throwing his head back and shivering as the sensations became more intense. The tantalizing stroke of her mouth took him to the edge of an undeniable abyss, a place where there was certainly pain and heartache, pleasure and completion.

  “Go ahead,” he crooned, moistening his lips as his balls felt heavier and his cock twitched against her throat.

  She hummed against his cock. Rising to the head, she kissed the tip and slowly lowered her mouth once more. This time, she rose and fell over his shaft, tightening her lips as she gave him a memorable blowjob, one he might later think of as a final send-off or a parting gift.

  Her talented tongue whipped around his firm dick again. This time, she hummed louder as she pulled him deeper between her cheeks.

  “Ah God!” he screamed. A jet of his cum shot forward, and Cara caught a mouthful, swallowing rapidly as he pulsed against her tongue. “Ah fuck, Cara. Ah damn, woman.”

  Cara locked her lips around his cock and sucked him further down her throat, closing around his dick as he emptied his seed inside her mouth. She vibrated against his length, and he shut his eyes, wondering if he would have felt this emptiness, this indescribable loneliness if he had taken Summer to bed instead.

  His shoulders slumped. He backed away from Cara, and his cock slowly slipped from her fluttering tongue. She rose to her feet, watching him, apparently interested in gauging what to expect next.

  “That’s all, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, tucking his cock back in his jeans. “That’s pretty much the end of it.”

  She rubbed her lips together, not as if she savored the taste he’d left in her mouth but as if she couldn’t decide just what to say next. “You think you’ve got it bad for her? Is that it?”

  “You did this to us.” He reassembled his pants. “Always remember that if nothing else.”

  “I didn’t do a damn thing to us!” She slapped her hands against his chest.

  The door behind them slammed, and the quick click of high heels made Tigger think of Sassy or Victory. He didn’t turn around.

  “It’s over, Cara,” Tigger said. “I don’t want to hurt you. It’s just over.”

  An evil grin formed on her lips. Cara nodded toward whoever stood behind him. “Is this what you want, sweet thing?” She dragged her thumb over her bottom lip and smiled even wider. “Is it?”

  Tigger glanced up at the pots and pans hanging over the breakfast bar. He could clearly see he’d been sorely mistaken. Sassy and Victory were nowhere to be found. Summer was standing behind them unless the reflection in the skillet was only a mere illusion.

  Bending over to retrieve his belt, he stuffed the leather in the loops and hooked his buckle before turning around.

  “Get an eyeful, sugar. This is what you have to look forward to,” Cara continued, stalking her. “You can get him hard all night, get him all worked up for all I care. He’ll still come running back to me.”

  “That’s enough, Cara,” Tigger said, facing Summer.

  To his surprise, Summer didn’t look angry. In fact, she appeared quite composed.

  Staring straight at Cara, Summer flipped that golden hair straight down her back. “You think I care if you gave Tigger head?” She laughed. “Honey, I don’t give a damn. I don’t know what he told you, but he was in my bed all night long. And since I’m willing to do the things you weren’t, I have a feeling he’ll frequent my bed quite often.”

  “Why you fucking cunt!” Cara lunged at Summer, but Tigger caught her around the waist. “Let me go! Damn you!”

  “Calm down,” he said softly, eyeing Summer over the top of Cara’s head. “Why don’t you wait outside?”

  “Why?” Summer asked, never blinking an eye. “I’m not afraid of her. She’s a bully. That’s all she is and all she’ll ever be. Me? I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to take what I want, and I want you. In fact, I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy. That’s why I’m here. Now you can leave with me, or you can stay with her. It’s your choice. But one thing you won’t do is bounce between our beds while you’re making up your mind if we suit one another or not.”

  “You’re a fucking submissive?” Cara screamed, pounding her fists wherever they could connect on Tigger’s body. “Is this what it comes down to?” She twisted and turned, trying to break his hold. “Is it? Answer me! Is that why I’m being tossed out like last week’s refrigerated lunch?”

  “No,” Tigger replied, releasing her when she finally seemed completely exhausted. Gripping her shoulders, he firmly added, “Cara, you know what this is about.”

  Jake entered the clubhouse with a few prospects, members who hadn’t yet been voted in by a unanimous decision and were still in their probationary period. The prospects were laughing and cutting up but must’ve detected the seriousness of the situation. The four guys came to a sudden, simultaneous halt.

  No one breathed a word. Hell, everyone there most likely realized Jake and Summer had each played a significant role in Cara and Tigger’s explosive breakup.

  “Go.” Cara dabbed her eyes and shot Jake a sideways glance. “But don’t think you’ll have anything to come back to when you’re done.”

  Tigger grabbed his jacket and took Summer by the hand. “You ready?”

  “You know it,” Summer said saucily.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Five

  “Where are you going?” Devon asked as the pair left the clubhouse. He placed his helmet on a handlebar and swung his leg away from his bike. “We have a club vote at four o’clock today.”

  “I can’t make it,” Tigger said, stopping next to Devon’s motorcycle. He slipped a protective arm around Summer’s shoulders. “This is the first I’ve heard of a meeting.”

  She stilled beside him as Devon raked his gaze up and down her body, not necessarily as a man might look at a woman with some sort of lingering appreciation. Oh no, his stare was quite different. He was trying to figure out why she was there and what kind of danger she represented.

  “You must be Summer,” Devon said, thrusting his hand forward. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Devon, the chapter president.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She wasn’t about to ask what he’d heard. Since Tigger had been with her all night long, Summer could guess where he’d gathered his information.

  Cara had probably alerted everyone in the club. There was a troublemaker among them, one with the potential to destroy them all.

  She laughed at the thought.

  “Something funny?” Devon asked, narrowing his gaze.

  “No. Well, yes, actually.”

  Tigger arched a brow. “What is it?”

  “Cara,” she replied. “If he’s heard anything about me at all, I’m sure he got his information from her.”

  “Actually, my old lady told me about you,” Devon drawled, his smile widening as a pretty blonde opened a garage bay and struck a sexy pose. He thumbed the air over his shoulder. “That’d be her over there.”

  Summer ack
nowledged Victory with a tilt of her head. She’d only caught a glimpse of Devon’s woman the day before, but she’d know her anywhere. She’d studied the club’s old ladies and broads as much as she’d researched the Heroes and Rogues.

  Victory Rising had been Damsel Road’s old lady prior to his life sentence. Rumor had it, or at least according to the whispers circulating among the Feds, Victory was playing Devon Kardashian for all he was worth.

  “It was nice meeting you, Devon,” she said, hoping to avoid a more social encounter with Victory. If her contacts were right, Victory was street smart. Since Summer was still shaken by what she’d seen between Tigger and Cara, she preferred to stay away from Victory until she pulled her act together again.

  “You too, Summer,” Devon drawled. “Four o’clock, Tigger. This meeting is important.”

  “Give me a minute, Devon,” Tigger said, walking Summer to her car.

  “Want to meet up later?” Tigger opened her door.

  “Can you keep it in your pants until then?” she asked, glaring at Cara as the older woman approached Victory in the garage bays.

  “I can—”

  “Explain?” Summer snickered. “Don’t bother, Tigger. The two of you have a history. That’s easy to see.” She leaned over and pressed her mouth to his ear. “Besides, I’m the one who got you all worked up and then sent you home to Mama. Maybe, I got what I deserved.”

  Tigger growled. “You’re dangerous.”

  “I can be.” She winked. “Want to meet at the same place tonight?”

  “Hotel or bar?”

  “Now what kind of question is that?”

  “You sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, his eyes laden with lust.

  “I need to run some errands. I’ll be in my room after eight o’clock.” She slammed the car door, started the ignition, and rolled down the window. “I may be willing to play by your rules, but I hate to wait. Will you be on time?”