Page 21 of Property of Gray

I’m hiding in the bathroom with my brother’s best friend.

It’s naughty.

Dirty.

And downright bad.

“Fuck, pipsqueak. You smell so good and I’m starving.” His beard hair rubs against my thighs. He’s toying with me as he kisses my inner legs, licking and nibbling, then blowing his hot breath on me.

His fingers bite into my hips hard enough to bruise. As if to mark his territory.

“You’ve got about three minutes, buddy.”

“I only need two.” I feel his lips tip into a smile as he buries his face where no man has ever kissed me before. Greedily, he goes right for it. His mouth covers my clit, and he pushes two fingers into me, curling them in a come-here motion, punching the rightspot. I rock my hips, grinding on his fingers. His thumb teases the rim of my ass, and I gasp.

“Oh, fuck.” He rubs there, applying a gentle pressure that feels all too good. Forbidden like us.

Stars dance in my vision as he finger-fucks me until I turn into a puddle. My juices coat his face and hand. My legs tremble as a shudder ripples through me. I cry out at the loss of his fingers, but I am soon rewarded with his tongue taking their place as he laps at me.

“We’re leaving,” a female voice calls out, sounding amused.

Gray grins up at me and licks his digits. “Finger licking good.”

My cheeks turn red as tomatoes.

I slip out of the bathroom first, and Madz is leaning against the wall. She laughs. “Next time you guys might try being a little more discrete.”

“Shit. Was I that loud?”

“Oh, fuck,” she mocks and pats me on my shoulder as Gray exits the bathroom having washed his face. “Good for you, girl.” She saunters off.

I stare at Gray, but he doesn’t comment. He simply kisses my forehead then smacks my ass as the sound of dozens of motorcycles firing up sounds. “Let’s ride.”

Outside, I climb onto the back of Gray’s motorcycle, one of the only women to ever have had the privilege. A man doesn’t allow just any woman to ride bitch with him.

Not in this club. He reaches back and gives my thigh a squeeze.

I can still feel the scrape of his facial hair rubbing between my legs. If he’s that skilled with his fingers and tongue, I can only anticipate what he can do to me when he’s given longer than two minutes.

I wrap my arms around him, hoping that this is the beginning of our story. Though it kind of feels like the middle. I guess our story truly began the first day my brother invited him over.

I can’t imagine my life without Braxton Gray.

He’s always been the missing piece. I only feel whole when I’m with him.

Our crew rides out as well as the club from West Virginia. There’s probably one hundred of us total. I’m sure we look intimidating as fuck roaring through our small town. Good thing the locals are used to us raising a little hell. They welcome our brand of trouble.

When we get on the highway, that’s another story.

There’s always some sort of drama. A flat tire, someone cutting someone off, a fight at a diner. It never fails. Not with this large a group. Throw in some puking and pipe burns from inexperienced riders, and it makes for a long drive.

But between stolen looks and touches, we make it to California for one hell of a party. One I’m hoping will have my brother too occupied to notice the sexual tension building with Gray and me.

While Gray is off doing whatever it is he does for the club, I walk around with Madz of all people, since she’s been here so many times and seems to know everyone. She points out men she’s fucked and women she’s fought with over them.

She warns me to steer clear of some old bitch named Dirty Diana. Says she’s like a biker sugar mama or something. I guess it takes all kinds. While the rest of us party, there’s secret meetings being held. Deals being made. Alliances being broken. New ones being forged.

Anything you can think of happens, and if they don’t have it and you want it, all you gotta do is know who to ask to get it.