Seize Me Part 4

See, women are just walking v.a.g.i.n.as to these a.s.sholes. But I appreciate Pyro speaking as if we're off limits. It will make all of today and tomorrow go smoother until we can go home. I suck in a breath as a gorgeous man walks up to me and leans on a cue stick. He's absolutely stunning and immediately reminds me of Braxxon, only he's a blond version.

"You look awfully different when your heel isn't kicking my cousin in the d.i.c.k," he drawls.

Oh G.o.d! What is with these guys and their voices? Pyro laughs uncontrollably right beside us.

"Star, Hazel, this is Sniper, Snipe for short," Pyro grins. I look over at Sniper, reading his cut; it says Sergeant-At-Arms.

"So sweet thang, who do you belong too?"

I grimace, and this gorgeous man smiles at me even more. What is with these f.u.c.kers? I want out of here and now, but I quickly change my tune as my skin heats and I feel warm breath on the back of my neck. I close my eyes, drawing a reaction out of Sniper.

"Prez you leave no fresh p.u.s.s.y for the rest of us. It never f.u.c.king fails," Sniper groans then looks to me. "My brother seriously never leaves me any of the good ones."

"Ah... so that explains it," I mumble mainly to myself.

Braxxon wraps his arms around me and leans his chin on my shoulder. I'm momentarily stunned. This is kind of romantic, and this guy is far from romantic.

"Explains what?" He nips at my ear.

"Uh... well... he looks like you, but only blond," I stutter feeling like an idiot.

Last thing I want is to look like is an empty airhead like the rest of these women who are staring at me with hatred plastered onto their faces.

"What about me Snipe, huh?" A redhead comes up behind him, trying to wrap her arms around him. " My p.u.s.s.y's good; you always used to scream so," she purrs.

I'm definitely going to be sick. Yes, there it is trying to raise, the acids burning straight through my esophagus. I laugh trying to force it down.

"Used to... being the keywords; get the f.u.c.k off of me and go wash that s.h.i.t. There's a reason the guys call you Creamy."

"I'm gonna be sick," I choke out.

Oops!

"Who the f.u.c.k do you think you are?" Creamy screams at me.

"I'm the one without the creamy v.a.g.i.n.a."

"I need to lie down." Hazel yawns beside me. Pyro says nothing as he walks her away. I'm a.s.suming to his apartment. She must be in pain and sleepy if she's not laughing or being sick from this scene.

"Prospect," Braxxon shouts and three men come sauntering over, Pervy P being one of them. "Get CC outta here; take her to the slam room."

"CC?" I ask.

"Creamy Crotch," he chuckles.

"That's disgusting. Did Pyro nickname her? Because he seems to have a thing for double initials."

"Yeah he did actually. Who else has double initials?"

Braxxon looks p.i.s.sed. For what reason, I don't know, but he looks ravenously mad. That scary, watch your back kind of mad.

"Well... one of your prospects is a pervy peeper, so I called him a pervert, and then Pyro said PP. You know like Pervy Prospect?"

Braxxon's demeanor changes back to calm and his anger dwindles.

"d.a.m.n bro, she forgot I was even standing here. f.u.c.king magic d.i.c.k," Sniper mumbles walking away.

"Oh um... sorry," I apologize and Sniper just waves a hand at me.

Braxxon goes on introducing me to every one of importance. I only know they're of importance because he tells me point blank they are.

I learned that Sniper is his half-brother and that he was in another Chapter before coming back here when Braxxon became President of the MC. I got brave and asked him how he could be the President since he was so young. It was a touchy subject. He immediately moved on to the next introduction of the person in the position called Treasury. Max is a heavyset man in his sixties who is a part of the original members. Other club members I met were Zig Zag who is the Road Captain, Walter, Smokey, Rob, James, Hammer, Phil, and Samuel. It's clear that Braxxon, Pyro, Zig Zag, Smokey, and Sniper are the youngest members of the club. I didn't ask too many questions it's not my business, and Braxxon clearly reminded me of that before ordering PP to get pizza to feed everyone before the members of the club took off. I've never seen so many pizza's in all my life. But there are at least forty people here, and I don't bother talking to any of them. Especially the hoes; I can tell the difference almost immediately between the ol' ladies and the m.u.f.fler bunnies. The ol' ladies are clean and busy taking care of their kids while the tramps are guzzling up free booze. I grab two slices of pizza and a soda and take off to Pyro's room to keep an eye on Lana. After I eat, I lay down beside her, pull up my reading app on my phone, and start reading. I'm on my second novel when Braxxon comes into the room, pulling up a chair and turning it backwards. He doesn't say anything; he just watches me.

"You're burning a hole in my skin," I say not looking up from my phone.

"How's she doing?" Braxxon asks.

I look beside me at Lana when I answer him.

"She's been asleep forever, so I guess she's okay," I murmur.

"You wanna tell me why you ran away from home?"

"No... it's none of your business, Braxxon."

"Have anything to do with your man's head getting blown off?"

I jump up so fast I'm shocked. My movements do nothing to keep the twinkle out of his eyes and the smirk off his face. He's laughing at me. He's being a p.r.i.c.k.

"When the h.e.l.l do I get to go home?" I grit out.

"Whenever the f.u.c.k I say you can." He stands up smoothly. "I'm gonna f.u.c.k the s.h.i.t outta ya until you lose that att.i.tude. b.i.t.c.h is not a s.e.xy look on Angels."

"What?" I laugh. "I'm far from an Angel, Braxxon; you'll do well to remember that."

"C'mon baby, it's been a long day. I'm ready to f.u.c.k you until I wear us both out."

"No!"

I don't wanna have s.e.x. I just want to go home and forget all about these people, this place, and this new h.e.l.l. His gray eyes narrow at me, and I begin backing away. For each step I take, he takes one. I'm making no distance, so I run for the door.

"Angel," he growls before tossing me over his shoulder.

"What the-," I'm interrupted by his large hand slapping my a.s.s.

"You're mine; you'll do well to remember that, baby." He laughs, using my own words against me while walking us through the clubhouse and up the steps to his apartment.

I start kicking and screaming with each step.

"Go get Creamy or someone else who wants to screw you. I don't wanna sleep with you Braxxon, stop!"

"Ask me in Russian baby," he murmurs slamming his door shut.

He can't be serious!

"Now!"

Okay.

"Ostanouit'! YA ne khochu spat's toboy!" I yell. "Stop! I don't want to sleep with you!"

"That is so f.u.c.king s.e.xy," he growls, tossing me upside down on his bed. Before I know it, Braxxon is standing in front of me entirely naked while my head is hanging off the side of his bed.

"Suck my c.o.c.k," he demands.

"Get that thing away from me. I don't want it." I laugh smacking at his legs.

"Oh you're just a playful b.i.t.c.h," he growls huskily before pouncing on me upside down.

I shove him off me before rolling onto the floor, laughing. I haven't had this much fun turning someone down ever.

Braxxon's head peeks over the side, staring down at me with the most gorgeous smile I've ever seen in all my life. I'm a goner, and his eyes light up as if he can see my resolve fade away.

"C'mere," he whispers.

"Net," I moan. "No."

"Jesus," he growls before descending down on top of me.

"I'm going to f.u.c.k you, Winter," he murmurs into my neck. My real name falling from his beautiful lips causes me to gasp.

Truer words have never been spoken. The thickness of his c.o.c.k presses down hard against my tummy as his lips work my neck.

"I don't want you," I whisper quietly.

"Angels aren't supposed to lie, baby," he says simply while edging my dress off me. His hands stop when he sees my red-laced thongs.

"I'm keeping these."

Yank! There go my panties.

"What do you need my panties for?" I giggle.

"I'm gonna sniff them all week long until my Angel comes back to me next weekend."

I stiffen. I'm not coming back. h.e.l.l to the no. I can tell that he likes me. Maybe only enough to screw a few times, but that isn't enough to make me come back here. I decide to give in and just give him what he wants tonight, then maybe he'll have his fill and leave me be.

"Prosto yebat' menya," I murmur running my fingernail down his chest. "Just f.u.c.k me."

"I don't know what that s.h.i.t was that you just spouted off, but my c.o.c.k is aching. I'm about to f.u.c.k you so raw that every step you take is going to feel like your c.u.n.t has been rubbed down by sandpaper, baby."

There is no warning, no soft touches, no fingering as his c.o.c.k fills me swift and hard. I cry out as he grips my legs around his waist, raising my b.u.t.t off the floor. When he's satisfied that I can hold my legs around him on my own, his hands yank my dress down over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"I wanna watch these gorgeous t.i.ts bounce," he growls, slamming into me repeatedly. There is no rhythm. It's the a.s.sault to my v.a.g.i.n.a he was just promising me. This isn't for my pleasure; it's for his. So I reach in between my legs and begin rubbing myself.

"Naughty, naughty girl," he tsk's as his arms snake underneath me and raise me up, so I'm straddling him. Once I'm firmly seated, his fingers twist through my hair and yank my head back as his lips run down my chest, stopping at my nipple. He teases it with his tongue before clamping down on it hard. I scream out and start riding him.

"Harder b.i.t.c.h," he growls yanking my hair even more. I snap my head back up and scratch my fingernails down his back as I slam down on him.

"s.h.i.t," he hisses while somehow flipping me over and planting my face into the carpet. His b.a.l.l.s smacking my front as he fills me with his come.

Well d.a.m.n! There goes my o.r.g.a.s.m. That's the second time he's come with my head smashed down on the bed. I wonder if this is his thing and I realize that he's punishing me for something I didn't even know I did wrong. He didn't let me come, and I'm almost positive he knows he didn't.

"Gee thanks," I murmur as he catches his breath behind me. I'll admit I'm thoroughly b.u.mmed. I know he can make me see stars, and the fact that he held out on me almost makes me want to cry.

"Time for bed, Angel," he says as he kisses the back of my neck and pulls out.

Super!

I'm a little disappointed when I wake up alone, without Braxxon's tongue lapping my core. But it's Sunday, and Lana and I get to go home today. That thought makes up for the no o.r.g.a.s.m. Just almost. I stretch before making my way downstairs to check on my best friend. I hear her giggling in the main room.

She looks a million times better. If she didn't have a sling on, you wouldn't be able to tell that she was just shot two days ago.

"Hey," I say walking up to her.

"Get your things; we get to go home babe," she smiles.

"Prospect," Pyro snaps. "Get Star's stuff together."

"What about our car?" I ask.

"Pyro's had the shop call the insurance company. We'll have a rental waiting for us a few miles away from home. One of the Prospects is going to escort us to pick it up."

"Escort us?" I repeat, but it comes out like a question instead of the disbelief I wanted it to sound like.

"Yep, gotta go all around our route here."

"Peachy," I murmur. "You got pain killers to go?"

"The best of the best. Pyro called Rich this morning, and he wasn't too thrilled that I'm gonna be outta work. His exact words were..." she trails off leaving it open for Pyro.

"I give you my two best girls and you get one of them shot. We're square," he mimics. "And he hung up on me." Pyro chuckles.

"Well, it's been fun Pyro," I say sarcastically.

"You think the Prez is gonna let you stay away?"

"Yep," I say popping my p.