Throttle's Seduction: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 7) (23 page)

“I’m fucking standing there, having a goddamned conversation, and this fuckin’ asshole takes a punch at me for no reason.” Rock wiped the blood from his face with a napkin. “He’s a goddamned problem.”

“You were fuckin’ rude to Kimber, and I won’t tolerate that shit.”

“Who’s Kimber?” Chas asked.

“I am,” she replied in a small voice.

They all looked at her, and her neck and face flushed.

“You Throttle’s woman?” Jax asked.

“Woman? Uh… no… Not really.”
Who the hell am I to Throttle? Fuck buddy, probably.

“She’s the chick who’s been messin’ with our brother’s fucking head for the last month. She’s the bitch mechanic at Hawk’s shop,” Rags said.

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, and even though she knew the word “bitch” didn’t have the same meaning to outlaws as it did to citizens, it still pissed her off. “Yeah, I’m the
woman
who works at the shop. What about it?”

Rags jerked his head back. “Nothing. Just saying.”

“Well, quit saying.” Kimber crossed her arms over her chest.

“Babe, leave it alone.” Throttle put his arm around her, but she twisted out of it.

“I’m not leaving anything alone. If I were a guy, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“But you ain’t a man. You’re a bitch, and it’s fuckin’ weird for a bitch to do a man’s job,” Wheelie said as Rags opened his mouth.

“Stop calling me a bitch. I’m a woman. How’d you like it if I called you a bastard?”

Several of the brothers had come over when they heard the heated discussion, and many of them grumbled under their breaths that the bitch had a mouth and Throttle better control her before she got her ass thrown out. Kimber met their glowering gazes with a defiant one. Wheelie had taken a few steps toward her, his nostrils flaring. Before he could lay into her, Throttle pulled her to him and whispered in her ear, “Fuckin’ leave this alone.”

“I can’t,” she whispered back.

“You gonna let your woman talk to a brother like that, man?” Hoss said as the others voiced their disdain.

“Kimber was just having a good time with me when some of the brothers thought it was okay to disrespect her. That wasn’t okay,” Throttle explained.

“You’re not answering the fuckin’ question,” Wheelie said, his scowl still fixed on Kimber.

She knew it was huge to lose face in front of the brotherhood, and Throttle’s loyalty was to the club first—always first. Citizens just couldn’t understand it, and she’d had a hard time with it when she first became acquainted with the outlaw world, but she’d grown to admire the brotherhood and the fierce loyalty they had to each other. Warmth flowed through her as she witnessed Throttle trying to protect her and not lose his brothers’ respect. She’d gone too far, had let a couple of assholes turn her evening out into a crusade for feminism. It didn’t matter what
they
thought about her, only what
she
thought about herself. She didn’t want Throttle to defend her and risk losing his brothers’ esteem.

“I was out of line,” she said, looking at Wheelie. “I’m sorry.”

“You fuckin’ better be,” he gritted.

“I was disrespectful to the brotherhood. I do apologize.” The words sounded hollow to her, but they were what the brothers wanted to hear, so they nodded and shuffled back to the pool tables and bar, a few of them agreeing that “she knew her place.” She stiffened but kept her mouth shut. If she were going to continue seeing Throttle—and she
really
wanted to—she’d have to keep her mouth in check. Being a woman involved in the outlaw world meant knowing her place and watching her mouth. From the way Throttle stared at her, she knew he was super pissed, and she hoped she hadn’t blown it with him.

“Kimber, do you want to join us for a drink and appetizers?” Cara asked.

She nodded, ready to break away from the tension that filled the air around her and the men. She touched Throttle’s arm. “I’m going to join the women for a bit, okay?”

His fierce eyes bored into her. “Come with me.” He clutched her hand and dragged her behind him down a hallway, to a back room. Inside, he whirled her around, facing him. “What in the fuck were you thinking by shooting off your mouth like that?”

Her defenses flared up. “I don’t like being treated like I’m inferior just because I’m a woman. The way they were calling me ‘bitch’ and dissing me pissed me off.”

“You act like this is the first time you’ve been around bikers. You know we call women ‘bitches.’ It doesn’t mean shit.”

“I know, but it doesn’t mean I like it. The fucking respect thing goes two ways. If your brothers want it, they have to give it too. Problem is men are always thinking life is one way with a woman—
their
way. It just got to me, that’s all. I probably overreacted, but it’s been a shitty week.” She flipped her hair over her shoulders.

Throttle’s jaw relaxed and he pulled her to him. “I do agree with my brothers about one thing—you’ve got a mouth on you. And you’re right about the respect stuff. The guys were acting like you were a slut, and that’s what pissed me off. I wish you would’ve let me handle it, though.”

She shrugged. “I’ve been handling things ever since I ditched my ex. The day I decided to leave him was the day I swore I wouldn’t take any shit from a man ever again.”

He pressed her to him. “You’re always fighting, sweet one. Relax a bit. Sometimes it’s good to have a man take care of you, but you have to let him.” He tangled his hand in her hair and jerked her head back. “The way you were sparking out there fuckin’ turned me on.” He moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness. His kiss sent new spirals of ecstasy through her. “I need you, babe,” he said, his breath hot against her skin.

“Me too,” she croaked.

Then his hands were all over her—touching, squeezing, pinching—as he walked her backwards until she was against the wall. With one hand, he pinned her arms above her head as he kissed and nipped the side of her neck, her ears, and her shoulders. He slipped his other hand around her waist, stroking her as his demanding lips seared her skin.

Heat engulfed her, rushing to every corner of her body: her curling toes, her aching nipples, her throbbing mound. Desire saturated every inch of her as she squirmed and rubbed against the wall. In a matter of seconds, her mesh dress was crumpled on the floor next to them, and her hard nipples strained against the thin fabric of her bra, begging to be sucked. He slipped his finger under her bra and brushed the underside of her breasts. “Bite them,” she rasped, and he trailed a scorching path from her shoulder to her tits, lightly biting her hardened beads through the fabric.

Twisting her arm behind her, she unhooked her bra, revealing pert breasts with pink, hard nipples. He growled and circled her areolas with his tongue as she yanked his hair, mad with lust as she waited for him to pull her nipple into his mouth. As he bit and sucked her tits, he pulled down her sheer panties and cupped her butt in his hands, squeezing and grunting as he kneaded his hardness against her. Backing up a bit, he unzipped his jeans and tugged them and his boxers down, his erect cock poking at her. She curled her fingers around it; it was hot and pulsing, and her mouth watered.

“I love it when you touch my cock. I’m about ready to explode here, babe. Is you pussy ready for it?”

“It’s been ready for you since you picked me up tonight.”

“Yeah?” He sucked her breasts hard, leaving red marks as he slid his finger between the folds of her swollen lips. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. Damn.” He brought his finger back up, his smoldering gaze catching hers, and put it in his mouth, slowly licking her juices off. “Fucking delicious.”

Surges of electrified passion sparked through her as she watched him lick her off his finger. Right then, she was connected to him through desire and longing, and she had no intention of ever letting him go. “Fuck me,” she moaned through parted lips.

He reached under her chin and stroked her jawline. Her lips opened slightly and their breaths mingled. In one movement he lifted her, his hands under her firm ass, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. When he thrust into her heated pussy, she cried out, sliding her hands inside his T-shirt and raking her nails down his back.

Over and over he pumped into her as he bit her breasts, kissed her neck, and sucked her nipples. “You’re so beautiful and awesome. What the fuck have you done to me?” he grunted with each thrust.

“What the fuck have you done
to me
?” she panted, the burning desire beginning to uncoil. Sex had never been that intense; Throttle did something to and for her that no man had ever done. He’d gotten into her blood, and even though she knew that was dangerous, as he thumped and shoved into her, she didn’t give a damn at all. She just needed and wanted him.

The dam broke, flooding every inch of her with waves of intense rapture she’d never known with a man before she met Throttle. She held on tight for fear of collapsing on the floor. His grunts and groans mixed with the warmth of his come shooting inside her and spilling out. She slid her legs down his corded thighs, and they pressed together as each one of them regained their composure.

He kissed her shoulder. “Fuck.”

She kissed the side of his face. “Wow.”

As she pulled back, she saw his sparkling eyes and lopsided grin, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “I guess we should go back out and join the others. I’ll hang at the women’s table and let you do the macho thing with the guys.”

He laughed and kissed her. “Let’s go.”

“I
want you
on the back of my bike, babe. I don’t want to hear any more argument about it,” Throttle said as he sat on Kimber’s porch.

“I get that, but I want to ride my own bike to Denver. We’re going to a fucking motorcycle expo. Why can’t you get that I want my own bike there?” The pink and golden hues from the setting sun illuminated her face.

“I like you pressed against me.”

“Not a good enough reason. I can ride with you around the city and some of the trails in the foothills, but I’m going on my own Harley to Denver. If you’re going to be pissed off at me and ruin our weekend, that’s your choice.” She crossed one leg over the other.

Throttle’s stare was hard and his twitching jaw told her he was hopping mad, but she wouldn’t be bullied. She was tempted to suggest that
he
ride bitch, but she suspected that would be pushing him too far. Why couldn’t he understand that she loved riding as much as he did? “Do you want another beer?” The evening breeze was cool, and as it skimmed over her, goose bumps peppered her arms.

He shrugged.
Just great. He’s really pissed at me. Men are such babies.
“Have another one. I don’t want to drink alone.” She stood up and went behind him, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed the top of his head. “Don’t be mad at me, okay?”

He stared straight ahead. If anyone should be mad, it was her. He hadn’t even asked if she wanted to go to the Denver Motorcycle Expo—he’d just
told
her. The fact that she was over the moon to go wasn’t the point; he should have asked her. The expo attracted over two hundred thousand people to its annual event, and since its inception thirty years before, it had grown substantially into a necessary event for bikers. For several years, she’d wanted to go, but she was either too busy or too broke to make the trip. Many members of the Demon Riders went every year and hung out with their Denver chapter. For a brief second, she wondered if Chewy would be at the event; she shuddered at the thought.

“You don’t want to talk to me?” she whispered near his ear, licking his earlobe. He shifted a tiny bit in his seat. “I can’t wait to spend the whole weekend with you. I can think of a lot of things we can do, you know?” Still no response, but his breathing had deepened. Slipping her hand under his muscle shirt, she scratched her way down over his hard pecs, his abs, his flat stomach, until the waistband of his jeans blocked her. Her kisses on his jawline and throat were hard and then soft, and when a low moan vibrated in his throat, her skin tingled and a jab of desire hit between her legs. Her hand rested on his jeans.

“Don’t stop yet,” he said huskily.

She chuckled, then undid the button and unzipped his pants, his hard dick throbbing under her touch. “Let’s go inside. My mouth needs to take care of that,” she breathed in his ear. He jumped up, crushed her against him, and hurried them into the house. Kicking the door closed behind her, she led him to her bedroom.

*     *     *

The ride to
Denver was different, as Kimber had to stay behind all the brothers since she was a female rider. She didn’t make a stink about it because she didn’t want to start out with any animosity, and she was riding with the Insurgents so their rules applied. Throttle rode at the end, one bike ahead of hers, and each time he’d glance backward at her, her heart turned over. He was turning out to be a real sweetie. Some of the other brothers weren’t keen at all on a female riding with them, but they were outvoted so there she was, eating the exhaust of twenty-plus bikes and loving every minute of the ride.