Trojans MC, 7
From the moment that Brass saw Eliza, he knew he was going to have her. But having her isn’t the problem. Keeping her is. Eliza always looks so skittish, as if she is waiting for something bad to happen. When she finally tells him the truth about her father’s control over her life, Brass knows he will do everything in his power to protect her—even take on her father.
Eliza is used to men being bought off. No one wants to stay with the fat girl, and they would certainly rather have a big wad of fat money than have her. All she has ever wanted is a guy to love her, desire her, want her. Could that man be Brass?
The Trojans are going through a trying time, and with it, they don’t have the need for another old lady who could leave them. Brass not only has to prove to the club that Eliza is the one, he must prove it to the woman he loves. When her father finally comes to town intent on destroying everything connected to Eliza, can the Trojans band together to fight an unusual enemy, one with both power and money?
Be Warned: anal sex, sex toys, public exhibition
“This is my apartment, babe. I went to get you coffee. Fat, ugly ass? Do I need to spank you for that shit?”
She shook her head. “No, not at all. I told you about Darcy, my supposed husband to be?”
“Yeah, you may have mentioned him when I was balls deep inside your sweet pussy.” He handed her a steaming cup of takeout coffee. The bag he had in his other hand smelled delicious. Brass, last name and even first name unknown, but she didn’t care. She was just basking in the fun with him. Never had she been able to be herself, and yet, Brass demanded it.
“Well it’s what he told me. He’s gay. Has a guy who he actually sleeps with. It kind of sucks really, to be honest.”
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me that the guy your father wants you to marry likes dudes? He takes dick?”
“I guess he is. He also gives it.” She had walked into his office when he had been giving it to his boyfriend. It had been a real eye opener. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“I don’t give a shit about a guy’s preference. Personally, I love a good pair of tits, a nice tight pussy, and with you, I actually like talking to you.”
“Wow, thank you.” She chuckled. She had stayed in Vale Valley a couple of weeks, and had found that Brass wasn’t being mean, or blunt. This was simply who he was. There was no underlying motive. He loved to fuck, ride his bike, and party. The partying wasn’t really her scene, and apart from going to see Knuckles and Beth’s wedding, she hadn’t participated in any of the parties. She wasn’t going to give Brass a reason to send her on her merry way. She was known for being a stick in the mud, and right now, she wanted to enjoy the small freedom she had been given.
There would come a time she had to give up, but until then, she was going to try to keep this happiness for some time.
“It’s not that, babe, you know it. I just—he told you that you were fat and ugly.”
“Yes. His demands in marrying me were that I’m to give the show of loyal, forgiving wife, and even though he can have a man of his own, I’m not allowed any.” She shrugged. “I guess this is what you call a little rebellion. Sounds great, huh?”
Brass put down the coffee and bag of food down. Her stomach chose that moment to growl. “You’re hurt?”
“No, I’m not hurt.” She blew out a breath. “Okay, maybe I am. Growing up I always wanted to have the kind of marriage you read about in books or see in the movies.” She felt the tears starting to build, and she took a breath. Years of keeping them at bay, the training wasn’t forgotten, and she wasn’t about to spill them over. She stared down at her hands. “It’s silly.”
“It’s not silly.” He placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back. “Never believe that something like that can be silly. Wanting that kind of shit, it’s natural.”
“No. I didn’t want to be. My folks were constantly at each other’s throats,” he said.
“My parents pretended the other didn’t exist. I’m not trying to get pity or anything. It’s just the way it is.” She pressed her hands against his chest, not to push him away, just because she wanted to touch him.
“You’re not okay, are you, baby?”
“I am. It’s just … talking with my dad always makes me feel like I failed. Like I fucked up big time.” She tried not to care what he thought, but the truth was, she did. She cared a lot. “I can’t even marry the right man.”
Brass stroked her cheek, and she stared into his eyes, finding comfort in his stare. He was big, so powerful. She loved it when his muscular, inked arms surrounded her. The way he groaned each time his cock plunged inside her as if he couldn’t hold in the pleasure.
“You’re thinking dirty thoughts right now, aren’t you?”
“A little bit.”
He slammed his lips down on hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, forgetting about the coffee, and everything else. His hands were on her back, pushing up her sweater, and flicking the catch of her bra. She should care that he knew how to do that, and with such ease, and yet she didn’t.
His experience was her gain. Brass shoved her against the wall, and gathered up her skirt, and tearing away her panties. “What have I told you about wearing these?” he asked.