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Chapter Eight

I followed Sugar’s car to the hospital, parking beside her and waiting patiently for her to get out, my mind still running at a million miles an hour.

Ham had called to let me know that she was on her way up to the hospital to visit with Chelsea. I was running back to the club to do some work on the books for X-Rated when I’d spotted her car in the parking lot at the supermarket. Seeing her with fucking Eric Deanwell’s arm around her, and his lips on her fucking body had completely thrown me. I wanted to kill the fucking asshole with my bare hands.

Deanwell was a local prosecution lawyer that had made a huge name for himself. One of the court cases that had made him a household name was fucking mine. He’d put me and other brother’s away on more occasions than I could fucking count. His anti-MC approach had really gotten him to high places over the past few years, not just within Alabama but all across the country, where he went to lecture about our way of life and our criminal enterprises. To say he was a thorn in my fucking ass would be an understatement because I’d dug around on him on more than one occasion and the man was fucking squeaky clean. He was a goody two-shoes, out to make the world a better place. And that made me even more fucking angry.

Sugar climbed out of her car, shopping bag in hand, and completely ignoring me as we both walked toward the main entrance. Optimus had me buried deep in shit up to my elbows for the past week. At first, it was all about trying to find information on Chelsea’s family, then searching through document after document attempting to find anything that could connect the thousands of dots to try and explain why the mafia was so up our ass. Even now, after everything was said and done and it seemed like the storm was over, I was still running on empty and my fuse was fucking short.

“Goddamn it,” I cursed, grabbing Sugar’s arm and pulling her into the first empty room I spotted and closing the door behind us. I took the bag from her hand and dropped it on the floor before using my body to back her against the wall.

“What are you—”

“I’m sorry, all right,” I growled, dipping my head and pressing my forehead against hers. “Deanwell and I have… history. Seeing him touch you, seeing him make you smile, just wasn’t fucking fun for me. Okay?”

Her eyes fluttered closed and she took in a deep breath. “It’s not like we’re best friends. He used to… he was close with my family. That’s all.”

I lifted my hand, settling it on the side of her face and cupping her jaw. “I know I’ve been a little absent.”

“Wrench, it’s fine. You don’t have to explain. I know how it works,” she said softly, the tone of her voice seeming completely genuine. “The club needed you, and you helped find Chelsea, helped to save her. That was the most important thing. It’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything.”

“Fuck,” I whispered before lowering my mouth onto hers and claiming her lips for myself. I was a greedy, selfish fucking bastard. Here I was in the hospital, supporting my president as he went through one of the toughest times in his life, but yet, I was in some fucking hospital room, making out with his daughter’s mother.

Jesus Christ, I was going to hell.

Sugar’s arms hooked around my neck and she pulled me in, sliding her body up against mine, her perfect fucking breasts pressed against my chest, teasing and testing me.

Sugar got it, she understood. The club was part of my life. Fuck! It was my life. And she wasn’t complaining about it or taking my attention away, she wasn’t bitching about how I’d ignored her for the most part of four or five fucking days, after such an intimate moment between us at the swimming hole. No. She would never berate me for putting my brothers first. She may not understand or know everything about the club lifestyle, but she understood how important it was to me. That was all that fucking mattered.

My tongue trailed along the seam of her lips before I pulled back, my mouth instantly moving to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses across the soft skin. She tugged at my cap, pulling it off and dropping it to the floor before her fingers returned to my hair. They swept through the strands so smoothly, her nails raking at my scalp as I tormented her, sucking and nibbling at her neck.

“Wrench,” she gasped as one of my hands slipped to her ass, grasping the cheek in my palm and squeezing it roughly through her jeans.

“What, KitKat?” I murmured, expecting some response about us getting caught.

Instead, her hands slipped from my hair and trailed down my chest until they reached the button of my jeans. “You had your fun last time, this time it’s my turn.”

My heart stopped. I swear for a minute I couldn’t move as she pulled from my grasp and sunk to her knees. “Goddamn,” I hissed.

She made quick work of my jeans, tugging them down, her eyes widening as my hard cock sprung free. Sugar licked her lips, her hand reaching up and her long slim fingers wrapping around my length. I braced my hands against the wall in front of me as she gave a few long strokes, from base to head.

I felt dizzy, not quite able to comprehend what in the actual fuck was happening. Was Sugar really on her knees before me right now, looking at my dick like she wanted to swallow it whole? Was this really happening, or was I so fucked up over this woman that my brain was creating these fucking impossible scenarios?

One swipe of her tongue and I was fucking done for, tossing my head back and closing my eyes. Her warm wet mouth wrapped around me and I let out a long, low groan. Her hands gripped my hips, her nails digging into the skin as her head moved, bobbing up and down, each time taking me further inside, deeper than I could have ever imagined.

Gritting my teeth, I finally risked a look down at the woman who had consumed my thoughts for the past few weeks. Her eyes stared up at me, a soft smirk on her face and her hand fisting my thickness. I slipped my shaking hand into her thick hair, tangling my fingers within the strands and giving it a gentle tug. Her mouth fell open, her eyes bright with excitement as I directed her mouth back to the head of my cock. She stuck her tongue out and flicked her tongue back and forth over it, sending a jolt straight up my spine.

“Cheeky bitch,” I growled, making her laugh.

Voices in the hallway had us both looking toward the door, but not moving to cover ourselves. Nope. I didn’t give a shit who walked through that door right now, this wasn’t over yet, and they could just watch the show. They got louder, but soon passed by and began to disappear again down the hall.

“Better hurry up,” I warned her. My other hand reached down to her breast, and I brushed my hand across it, feeling her nipples hard as stone. “Mmmm,” I moaned, pinching it between my fingers.

She gasped, and I used the opportunity to direct my aching shaft back into her mouth. Her lips closed around it, and suddenly I had no control as she let loose, sucking harder than I thought humanly possible. My length sliding in and out, her pace quickening.

The build was quick, our hurry not to be caught mixed with the way her tongue dragged along the underside of my cock was fucking explosive. My head nudged the back of her throat as I pushed my hips forward and she gagged but refused to give up. Her hand went to my balls and that was it, I was a goner.

“Shit! Gonna come,” I cursed, thinking she would pull back, but she only raised her hand and squeezed me tightly as I exploded into her mouth. She took everything, I gave her, her throat working hard to swallow back my cum.

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