Craving Constellations
(The Aces #1)
Kindle Edition, 212 pages
Published
August 27th 2013
How could someone make decision after
decision attempting to get away from their past and somehow end up right back
where they started?
When Brenna decided to leave the only life she’d ever known, she swore she’d never go back. Now, five years later, she’s running from her clean-cut husband straight back to the motorcycle club that raised her… and the man she left behind.
She left with a secret, and the truth will soon break her carefully constructed life wide open.
When Brenna decided to leave the only life she’d ever known, she swore she’d never go back. Now, five years later, she’s running from her clean-cut husband straight back to the motorcycle club that raised her… and the man she left behind.
She left with a secret, and the truth will soon break her carefully constructed life wide open.
Craving Constellations Excerpt:
I hadn’t seen her in five years. The minute
Poet got a phone call from the gate, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck
stand straight up. I knew it was her. I was instantly brought back to when we’d
first met. It was at my party—the night I’d gotten my cut.
I was well on my way to being shitfaced the first time I saw her. Not
the best beginning, but I swear, the minute I saw her, I sobered up pretty
fuckin’ quick.
I had spent the first few hours at the party doing anything I could to
ignore the pain from the recent and massive tattoo on my back—a reminder I
would have forever. I was an Ace for life. There would be no running, and my
brothers would kill me rather than turn their backs. I knew shrinks would have
a field day with my abandonment issues, but I didn’t give a fuck. It felt good
to be somewhere solid. If I were being honest, I was really fuckin’ proud of
it. After a year of probation, and even more time before that just hanging
around, I was in.
I could feel the blood on my back sticking to my T-shirt, and every
time I moved, my cut dragged against both. My fuckin’ back was on fire. This
was why I had been carrying around a fifth of Jack, and I was already more than
halfway through it.
She was spectacular—all legs and tits. I wasn’t sure why her legs
looked so long ’cause she was actually pretty tiny, but I was sure her almost
nonexistent shorts and high-heeled sandal things had a lot to do with it. She
had a torn T-shirt on, and Jim Morrison’s eyes were staring at me from across
her tits. Damn, the old boy had never looked so good. She walked in like she
owned the joint, and I was surprised when she stopped to talk to some of the
guys and their old ladies. I sure as hell had never seen her before. She didn’t
look like one of the girls that hung around—too little hair and too little
makeup—but she really couldn’t be anything else. This wasn’t Sunday brunch;
good girls didn’t just show up in the middle of an Aces party. Didn’t happen.
She seemed like she was looking
for someone, but she didn’t find whoever it was because, eventually, her head
turned back toward me. I won’t pretend like we held gazes or any of that stupid
shit. She was across the room, and I couldn’t even tell what color her eyes
were for chrissake. I could tell she was looking at me though. After a few
minutes, she turned completely away from me, and I got hard, just like that.
The back of her T-shirt was cut down to her waist, and I could see a lacy green
bra strap across her back.
Fuck. Me.
I just stood there, watching her, looking like a tool, as she gave
hugs to the women around her—wondering how that fucking shirt stayed on. She
actually hugged the boss’s old lady, Vera. Shit, that bitch was hard as nails.
Who the fuck was this girl?
I followed her ass out of the clubhouse. It was like she was one of
those sirens who lured men to their deaths. She was holding some sort of
invisible leash, and I was tagging along behind her like a goddamn puppy. When I
made it outside, she was sitting on the hood of her car with her heels resting
on the front bumper of a 1969 red convertible Beetle.
I instantly pictured her naked and spread out over the hood of the bug
while I feasted on her. Did the carpet match the drapes? Yeah, I was pretty
sure she had that fiery red hair down below. No way that mop of curls on top of
her head wasn’t natural. Or maybe she was bare—fuck, I bet she was. Most of the
bitches that hung around here kept things bare or at least trimmed short. I
loved it when women kept everything waxed. It felt so much better against my
face and made them way more sensitive to the scratch of my beard.
She seemed surprised to see me
when I walked up and stood right between her legs. The girls around the club
knew the score. It wasn’t like I instantly crawled on top of her, but she acted
like I had. She scooted back as far as she could until I caged her in with my
hands resting on each side of her hips.
“Um, hey. Have we met?”
Christ. Her voice was sugar and spice and every fuckin’ fantasy I’d
ever had.
“Nope. I would’ve remembered that. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” God,
could I be more of an asshole?
“Ha. Thanks. You mind moving back a little? The hood of the car is
still a little warm, and I’m burning my ass here.” She blushed.
Holy fuck. I was amazed that she actually just blushed at me. Then, I
realized that her ass was still on the hot car. I quickly took a step back, but
not before I hooked my hands behind her knees so I could pull her forward. She
made a startled noise and grabbed my shoulders as her ass cleared the end of
the hood. Perfect. She wrapped her legs around my middle, trying to get her
balance, and I slid my hands up the backs of her smooth thighs, finally resting
them just underneath her shorts on her ass cheeks. She was exactly where I
wanted her. Now, I just had to get her horizontal or against a wall. It didn’t
really matter to me at this point.
“Uh, I’m good, you know? You can, uh, just put me down anywhere. I
mean, set me down. I can stand. No permanent damage.” She laughed nervously.
“Really, we’re all good.”
I tilted my head down, so our faces were just inches apart. Damn, she
was small. At around six feet tall, I was no giant, but I felt massive next to
her. She was looking at me with these wide green eyes, all innocent. Her face
was still rosy from her blush, and her bottom lip was snagged between her
teeth. Damn, she was sexy. I knew I was freaking her out, but I couldn’t stop
myself.
I lowered my head farther, and just when she thought I was going to
kiss her, I turned my head and ran my beard and then my mouth down her neck.
She smelled like cinnamon, and she tasted all tangy and fantastic. I wanted to
fuckin’ consume her. So, I started with her neck. I bit and licked and sucked on
her from her ear to her collarbone.
At first, she pushed at me like she was trying to get away, but I knew
that wasn’t the case. These girls came here for this. They came for a chance to
fuck an Ace—or twenty—and carve a few notches on their tiny belts. I was sure
some of the bitches were hoping to find a man, but that didn’t happen often.
Brothers didn’t want sluts for old ladies. Fuck, with this girl though? I
probably wouldn’t care if she’d fucked every brother in the club.
I ignored it when she was pushing at me, but I sure as shit felt it
when her body relaxed against mine, and her legs tightened around me. I had
her. I strode to the corner of the building, still worshiping her neck and ears
until we ran straight into a wall. And I mean, we ran into it. I was afraid for
a second that I had hurt her until I heard a husky giggle in my neck.
“In a hurry?” she asked with a smile in her voice.
Fuck yes, I was in a hurry. Not only did I not want her to change her
mind, but her legs were also wrapped so tightly around my back that they were
digging into my tattoo. Her hands didn’t feel any better hanging on to my
shoulders. I needed to pin her up against the wall to take some of the fuckin’
pressure off.
“I’m Dragon.”
I figured we should get the whole name bullshit out of the way. I
wanted her to be screaming my name when she came—none of that generic shit and
not the name I was given at birth. Everyone around the club started calling me
Dragon the year before. The name came from a throw down I had with a local
dealer. Dude’s name was Jorge, and I fucked his shit up. Bad. I did it quick,
too. After that, the vice president of the MC, Poet, started calling me Dragon.
Some shit about a story of St. George and the Dragon. I was fine with it. I
earned it. New name. New life.
She’d call me Dragon, and she’d know exactly who was fucking her.
“I’ve got a room in the house. Why don’t I take you in there and make you
scream it?”
She blushed again even brighter than the first time and cleared her
throat. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dragon. I don’t know you. You don’t
know me. This was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t sleep with
guys who I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m sure I look like a total cock tease right
now. Can you put me down?”
She was wiggling around, and her legs had dropped from around my
waist, so I was holding her by her knees again. I probably would have decided
she wasn’t worth the hassle. I didn’t have to beg women or even seduce them to
fuck them. They came to me, always had. Now that I got my cut, I had a feeling
they’d be even thicker on the ground. Yeah, I would have decided that she
wasn’t worth the trouble, but then the word cock came slipping out of those
rosy lips. It didn’t fit her; she didn’t look like she’d even said the word before,
but it was erotic as hell to watch it form on her lips. Plus, who the hell said
cock tease? Fuckin’ adorable.
“Christ, you’re sweet,” I mumbled, and I dove straight for those lips.
She had some sticky sweet lip gloss on, and I licked it off before pushing
inside her mouth. I had barely gotten my tongue inside before she started
whimpering and grabbing at my hair. It was like she couldn’t get my face close
enough to hers even though she was barely moving her lips. There was something
about the way she did it though—the desperation—that made my dick twitch in
anticipation. She needed it, and she was waiting for me to give it to her.
As far as I was concerned, kissing was overrated—the kind of thing a
man does to get a bitch in his bed. With her though, I could have tasted her
mouth for days. She tasted slightly of beer, which I hadn’t noticed that she’d
been drinking, and her tongue kept shyly reaching out from her mouth to rub
against mine.
“Let me have your tongue, baby,” I whispered against her mouth.
I needed more of her. Where she was shy, I was greedy. I bit at her
lips, sucking the top one and then the bottom. I groaned when she finally got
more aggressive. When she sucked my tongue in her mouth, I thought I was going
to pass out. Images of her sucking my cock the same way raced through my mind
until her hands slid down my back. Even through the leather of my cut, her
fingers felt like knives slicing through my skin.
I hissed. “Fuck!”
“What?” She looked up at me in confusion as I tried to ignore the tiny
black spots dancing in my eyes.
“Nothing. Come on, we’re going to my room. I want you naked in my
bed.” I dropped her legs and grabbed one of her hands, dragging her behind me
to one of the side doors.
She tried to argue with me, but I didn’t pay attention. My back was on
fire, my dick was hard as a fuckin’ rock, and I didn’t want anyone stopping us
before I could get her naked.
Thankfully, the door closest to
us headed directly to the back hall where my room was. The clubhouse was a
rectangle with garage bays on the west side that connected to a large room
where we congregated. Behind that space was a long hallway lined with doors
that ran the length of the room. Mine, thank fuck, was only three doors in, but
we passed Grease on our way there. He did a double take as we passed and then
called my name as I opened my door.
“Stay here.” I pushed her inside, flipped the light, closed the door,
and walked back toward him.
“What’s up, man?” I asked him distractedly.
“Hey, you sure you want to go there? Poet’s gonna fuck your shit up if
you go there.” He was staring at my door.
“You really asking me about where I put my dick? Want to get a latte
and fuckin’ gossip, too?” I shook my head. “I’ll see you later…hopefully, not
until morning. Don’t come knocking.” I gave him a look that promised
retribution if he ignored me.
I knew Poet didn’t have an old lady, and he didn’t seem to have a favorite
with the other bitches either. Why the fuck would Poet care? I was just drunk
enough and thinking with my dick, so I ignored the questions running through my
head.
Then, I went back to her.
********************************
Nicole Jacquelyn
is a featured author at
To see the entire list of Featured authors for this event along with all the details visit the website..
>>>BIKERS - BABES & BOOKS<<<
>>>BIKERS - BABES & BOOKS<<<
No comments:
Post a Comment