Nicky (Fallen Gliders MC Book 1) Page 3

  “Anything you need,” he said, standing and moving around his desk. “Anytime you need it.”

  My throat tightened, and I dipped my head. “Appreciate it.”

  “Come on.” Jonny clasped my shoulder and turned me toward the door. “The least I can do is carry a bin or two. Stick around for a drink after?”

  Hawk grinned at me and tipped his beer my way as Jonny and I walked out of the office.

  My mouth watered for a shot or two. I nodded. “One last drink.”

  ****

  Done, I told myself an hour later as I pulled out of the club’s parking lot, never to return. Hands washed of that life and everything associated with it—except for my Harley on the trailer behind me. Wouldn’t ever give her up.

  More than anything, I wanted to head north, settle on my new bar stool and drink in the sight of Mel and her bright smile. Her twinkling eyes. The curves of her ass I wanted to sink my cock into.

  Too damn young rang in my head more times than I could count, but every time my head whispered the words, they held less meaning. Who gave a fuck if she was easily twenty years my junior? Her body language told me she wanted me. I wanted her with a need that bordered on obsession. Just the thought of her hardened my cock, something that happened on an hourly basis, same as when I’d been a young, clueless fuck of sixteen.

  I crashed at a motel a few miles away and took the next couple of days to put the rest of my shit in order, antsy as hell to get back to Mel. Cashed out some investments I didn’t want to be associated with anymore. Closed out two of my three bank accounts. Spent a few hours in the pawn shop unloading things I didn’t have need of anymore.

  Sunday night found me pulling my truck and trailer into Mel’s. I’d jerked off countless times to thoughts of her ass, but the release my hand gave didn’t offer what I wanted.

  Light rain fell, coating my hair before I made it through her door.

  Like a magnetic pull, my attention went directly to her, and she turned. Her cheeks flushed and lips parted with a wide smile, and an ache zinged through my chest.

  Fucking ray of sunshine.

  The bar was packed, but I was able to snag a stool near the one I’d claimed the week before.

  “Nicky,” Mel greeted me over the blasting country music, her voice breathy and lust-filled.

  My cock swelled, and I bit back a groan. “Mel.”

  “Whiskey?”

  “The good stuff.” I ran a hand through my wet hair while she grabbed a bottle and shot glass. “Thanks,” I said as she poured.

  “Good to see you back here.”

  “Is it?”

  My question tipped her head up, and her smile faded. “Yes.”

  “Mel!” someone called, but it took her a few seconds to turn away, breaking the crackling need to fuck between us.

  I downed a couple of shots, ignoring the people around me, focusing on Mel as she worked the bar and the people paying her bills. She had a gift for listening, drawing out people’s stories without seeming to pry.

  I’d never been so damn comfortable—except for my throbbing cock—in years. Even the club back in the day hadn’t afforded me the level of contentment Mel’s place did. Glancing around, I decided the stool I claimed again two hours later would be my seat until I breathed my last breath.

  Good old Sheriff Elliott climbed off his stool at the other end when the one beside me opened up.

  I kept my attention on my shot glass as he took a seat too close for my liking.

  “Been meaning to welcome you to our town, Mr. Landon,” he said, his tone decent enough but stern as he held out his hand.

  Shaking his hand, I nodded, noting the caution in his dark eyes. “Thought you’d come see me sooner or later.”

  He released his grip. “Sorry about your sister.”

  Lips pursed, I nodded again and picked up my glass, my gaze flitting to Mel. Concern etched her brow.

  “We have a major epidemic in this state,” the sheriff said while I swallowed the whiskey.

  I kept my mouth shut and poured another shot.

  “Mel tells me you handed in your colors, Mr. Landon,” Sheriff Elliott continued when I didn’t comment.

  My gaze trailed after her as she turned away from us to pour another beer for someone a few feet away. “I did.”

  “Reforming your ways?”

  I shrugged. “Not looking for any trouble, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Sheriff Elliott turned on his stool to face me. “I’m more interested in whether you’d consider being a bad boy turned good.”

  Brows lifted, I peered at him. “What exactly are you getting at, Sheriff?”

  “I could use some help.”

  “With?”

  “Any information you can toss my way that could help us clean up our state.”

  I tipped my head back, downing my drink. “Can’t say I remember too much from my days before arriving here.” The heat of his stare licked at my face, but I ignored him, still absorbed by Mel and every move she made.

  She tossed a flirty smile my way, stirring my cock back to life.

  “Well.” Sheriff Elliott emptied his beer and threw a twenty onto the bar while standing. “If you decide you’d like to do your part in helping people like your sister, stop by the station.”

  His words knifed my gut, and I offered one last nod of feigned indifference. “Nice talking to you, Sheriff.”

  He left without another word, and I forced my thoughts back to the ass of the bartender and how much I wanted to bury myself balls deep in every hole of her lush body.

  Slowly, the place emptied to what appeared to be the regulars, lingering over their drinks and shooting the shit.

  “What’d Sheriff Elliott want?” Mel asked after finally making her way back to me.

  “Just making sure I’m not going to start any trouble in his town.”

  “Trouble, huh?” She bit her lip against a growing smirk and glanced at the door. “I didn’t hear your bike pull up.”

  I leaned forward onto the bar, fighting the urge to drop my gaze to her pert rack and the nipples that pebbled anytime she came near me. “That’s because it’s on a trailer behind my truck along with a couple of plastic bins.”

  “Better bins than boxes,” she said, pointing toward the windows.

  Rain fell, and I realized my chances of sleeping under the stars were shot to shit.

  “Heading back to Greta’s?” she asked while picking up a rag to wipe down the bar beside me.

  “She’s booked this whole week, which really fucks me up.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Suzie still isn’t talking to me, and I’ve got no place to crash until my apartment here in town opens up.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Any other place you know around here? Something off the beaten path?”

  “Grandpop kept a cot in the back storeroom. Isn’t much,” she smiled, twisting that ache in my chest again, “but you’re welcome to it for the night.”

  “You mean that even knowing what I am?” I asked, one of my brows raised.

  “I know what you were.” Her smile made the room a little brighter, and she sauntered away, her tight jeans hugging curves that ought to be illegal. Small waist, round ass, and thick as honey thighs my fingers itched to dig into.

  I tore my attention from her, cleared my throat, and downed my shot of whiskey. What woman would offer a complete stranger—especially one looking like me—a place to crash? In her storeroom, too? Didn’t she notice my love of whiskey? Had she even considered I could rob her blind? Get my hands on her the second the last patron left for the night whether she wanted it or not and fuck her senseless until the sun rose?

  A bubbly, seemingly genuinely happy young woman, one who clearly wanted me if the pulse in her neck and poking nipples spoke the truth. Throw the dilated pupils into the mix, and I was ready to bet all the cash in my bank account she’d be up for me bending her over the bar and fucking her tight litt
le pussy. Or ass.

  Cock hard and pressing against the confines of the damn leathers I wore, I’d take either. Both. Whatever she wanted, however she wanted it.

  Back in the day, she would have been my type. Smiley and sweet, not a drug abusing whore like the rest of the women who hung out at our club. A breath of fresh air, Mel shone like a spotlight in the darkness of my mind, and fuck did I want her.

  My cell chimed with an incoming text. I pulled the phone from my jacket.

  Jonny: Wish you hadn’t left. Miss you brother.

  I tapped out my reply. Sorry to leave you and Hawk behind, but it’s time I moved on

  Without waiting for his reply, I shut off my cell and tucked it back into the inner pocket of my jacket. I’d told him I was done with a life of distributing drugs that killed. I was done protecting those who delivered, done taking the lives of those who threatened the brotherhood’s lucrative business.

  I’d been paid, and paid well. I had enough stashed away to last me until a revenge bullet found my brain, or I keeled over an old man. The morbid thoughts lay like a dead weight on my mind. I hoped for the latter, knowing helping Sheriff Elliott in any way would probably lead to a bullet between my eyes. For Ellen, my conscience whispered.

  “Fuck that,” I muttered while pouring another shot.

  My attention strayed to the bar’s ray of light. A good hard fuck to take away the dreariness sounded a million times better.

  Mel

  By eleven thirty, the bar cleared out except for Nicky. Rain pounded the windows, and flashes of lightning lit up the dim interior.

  Kelly had closed down the grill over an hour earlier, cleaned up our small kitchen, and headed out. I scrubbed the last of the glasses and wiped down the taps with warm, soapy water, all the while warmth and tingles raising the hair on my arms.

  Nicky sat nursing the bottle of whiskey. He’d had at least six shots and could damn well hold his liquor.

  “How long have you owned the place?” he asked when I finally lowered the music.

  “My grandpop left it to me when he passed last year,” I said, flipping the two deadbolt locks on the front door.

  “Hughsey was your grandfather?”

  I shot him a glance, surprised to hear the nickname on his lips. “Yes. You knew him?”

  “Used to hang around here back before my sister disowned me and the good Sheriff Elliott took office.” He spun his shot glass around in circles on the bar with two fingers as he seemed fond of doing. “Good man, your grandpop.”

  The familiar ache of loss pinged my chest, and my smile wobbled as I made my way back behind the bar to finish cleaning up. “He was the best.”

  Nicky scanned the room, no doubt noticing I hadn’t changed much of anything since Grandpop’s original decorating attempts years earlier. The old brick walls and low timber ceiling lent a cozy feeling that reminded me of Grandpop’s warm hugs. Nothing fancy, no TVs. Simply a place to relax and enjoy a drink or two after a long day.

  I poured the bucket of dirty water down the drain a few minutes later, wiped my hands on a clean towel, and grabbed a shot glass. Nicky perused me from head to toe and back up again as I rounded the bar and made my way toward him. Delicious shivers swept over my skin, and I sat on the stool beside him.

  “May I?” I asked, reaching for the bottle.

  He slid his shot glass over while turning on his stool to face me, and I poured us both a round.

  “Why did you offer me a place to crash?” he asked, his rumbling timbre tingling between my thighs. “Most people would say you’re crazy.”

  “Probably.” I shrugged. “Seems to me that you’re starting your life over. Only right of me to help.” I held up my shot glass. “To new beginnings?”

  “I’m too old for that shit,” he grumbled, lifting his glass. “I’ll drink to you, though.”

  A rush of pure lust soaked my panties at the want in his blue eyes. “To each other, then.” I smiled and clinked my glass against his while crossing my legs to ease the ache in my clit.

  We knocked the liquor back, and our gazes met as we set the glasses on the bar.

  “How old are you?” Nicky asked, his attention snagging on my lips.

  “Twenty-eight.”

  He scrubbed a hand over the beard lining his jaw while looking away. “So damn young.”

  “Not too young.” Gauntlet thrown, I waited for his attention to return to my face. Eyes full of lust, a leashed animal that ought to scare the shit out of me but didn’t.

  “I’m no good.”

  I cocked my head and slid my gaze down over him, not missing the hard length straining against his leathers. “Look pretty damn good to me.”

  His low groan rushed need through me again, and I knew I’d leave a wet spot on the stool once I got up.

  “You’re messing with fire, little girl.”

  Heat flushed through me. “I enjoy flames now and then.” My breath caught at the hunger on his face, parting my lips.

  “Fuck it.” He grasped my chin in his warm palm. “I’ll give you what you want, little girl, but don’t go crying to your mommy in the morning because a big bad wolf left his mark on you.”

  Oh, God. I swallowed and squeezed my thighs together. Older men were so the shit.

  He captured my lips, but without the brute force I’d expected. Hunger, yes, but the full softness of his lips pressed against mine, taking and tasting, his tongue probing, whiskers brushing my skin. I parted my lips and moaned as he sank his tongue into my mouth, fucking every hidden corner, filling me with the taste of whiskey and pure male. My skin pebbled, pulse thrummed.

  “Goddamn.” Nicky stood and yanked me off the stool. Virile, pure hardness and muscle beneath the leather hiding his skin from my grasping hands. His fingers fisted in my long hair, tangling and yanking my head to the side, the other grabbing my ass and hauling me against his huge cock.

  He crouched down slightly and pulled me up. My legs wrapped around him as though having a mind of their own—even though I had been thinking about getting him between my legs all night long.

  His beard brushed along my neck as he breathed me in and licked from my collarbone to my ear. “You smell like a fucking spring day. Innocent.”

  “I’m h-hardly an innocent,” I gasped as he bit my earlobe and ground his cock against my sopping jeans.

  “Thank God, because I want to be balls deep inside of you. Now.”

  He thrust, and I moaned, my fingers grasping at his t-shirt.

  “Tell me to stop,” he whispered harshly in my ear.

  “No way in hell.”

  With a growl, he squeezed my ass to the point of pain. “I haven’t wanted a woman like this in a long fucking time.”

  “So take what you want.”

  “Goddamn.” He rested his forehead on mine. “Right here?”

  I slithered a hand between us to grasp the hardness inside his leathers. “Right now.”

  “Fuck.” Like my five-foot-six frame and thirty extra pounds meant nothing, he spun me around. “Hands on the bar.”

  I did as told, bending at the waist and putting my ass on display with a little wiggle.

  “Don’t move,” he said while peeling off his leather jacket.

  My legs trembled, and I turned my head to watch as he moved to the front door and flicked off the lights.

  The streetlight half a block away barely cut through the storm, but the flash of lightning lit Nicky up as he stalked back toward me, shedding his t-shirt.

  Broad shoulders … another flash filled my eyes with tanned skin stretched tight over massive pecs and abs a twenty-year-old guy would kill for.

  I licked my lips, hoping for another flash of light, but Nicky palmed my waist and leaned over my back, his cock pressed against my ass, the heat of his skin searing me through my shirt.

  My eyelids fluttered shut as he wrapped his fingers around my hair again and tilted my head back.

  “Last chance, Mel.” His rumbling voice and hot br
eath against my ear brought a moan past my lips.

  “Take me,” I managed to whisper and licked my dry lips. “Please.”

  Nicky moved his hands from my hips in toward my belly, releasing the snap of my jeans. Although skin-tight, the jeans were stretchy, and I sucked in my stomach as he slid his hand inside my panties, fingers slipping through my wetness.

  “You’re fucking soaked.”

  As though I needed to be told. “Hurry…”

  The sound of him sucking his fingers clean along with his following groan weakened my knees. “Goddamn, you taste good, little girl.”

  He kneeled behind me and peeled my jeans and panties down over my thighs. His nose brushed along my ass crack, and he breathed deep. “I’m going to bury my cock balls deep inside of you.”

  “Yes.” I panted the word, so fucking far gone already I knew I’d come the second he pressed into me.

  Cursing, he yanked off my boots, and I fumbled to step out of my jeans as he pulled them from my ankles. Naked from the waist down, bent over and grasping the bar … I’d fantasized it over the previous couple of hours but didn’t think I’d get so damn lucky.

  Thunder boomed outside, rattling the windows.

  Eyes still clenched shut, I waited, trembling with need as his zipper sounded. The blessed crinkle of a condom, which hadn’t even crossed my mind, reached my ears.

  He kicked my feet apart, and I squeaked as he grabbed my hips to keep me from falling over.

  One fucking thrust and he filled me to the brink, shooting my climax up through me with a blinding shriek flying past my lips.

  He slammed into me over and over, drawing out my climax as I gushed around his thick cock.

  “So fucking tight,” he growled, his fingertips digging into my hips. I’d bruise come morning for sure.

  The spasms in my pussy lessened, but I continued to pant, clutching the edge of the bar as he thrust into me like the animal I’d expected.

  I wanted more.

  A flash of lightning lit the bar, and he yanked me back against his chest, holding still. One hand glided down over where we joined, his soaked fingers sliding up to find my clit. He kept his hips still, his cock throbbing deep inside of me. Palming my breast through my shirt with his other hand, his lips and teeth grazed my neck as I squirmed in his hold, trying to get him to fuck me.