Page 14 of Duke

“THAT WAS REAL FUCKING SMOOTH,” Meat says finding me over in the shadows across the road. I rode around in the dark for a while cooling off, but found myself riding back here.

“It was either that or break those pricks necks that drank shots off her body.”

He shrugs lighting up a Marlboro and offering me one. I take it, inhaling deep and blowing out the smoke like a dragon. “I was about to do it too, until you held me back, reminding me I wouldn’t be able to reach her from prison.”

“Still, you need to calm the fuck down. She’s like a daughter to me. You hurt her. She won’t cry about it, at least, not in front of us. But what you said? Dropping a bomb like that? It wasn’t the time or place.”

“You’re right and I feel like shit. I didn’t want to break the news to her like that, but she has me so damn keyed up. I want her so damn much. I can’t stand how she struts around the bar flouncing her body and flirting all over the damn place. It pisses me the hell off. Jesus, I probably ruined any chance I have of dipping into her anytime soon.”

“You got that right. Shanna’s not a girl who takes any shit. She’s got her mama’s looks but her old man’s stubbornness. You better find someone else to take the edge off.”

I think back to that trashy slut who tailed me all night, offering me a blowjob in the back room. No fuckin’ thank you.

Fuck.

My balls are drawn up tight and swollen with my seed that wants to shoot off inside her—and only her. No other woman will do. I need to find a way to make this fucking happen before my balls get any bluer.

Giving Meat a fist bump, I grab my helmet and climb on my dad’s old Harley. I push off, parking behind the bar, hiding in the shadow of an old oak tree. Ever since the first night, I saw her—I wait, every night for her to close the bar down and walk out, never leaving until she safely drives away.

She's the air in my lungs—the color in my world.

But I'm no prince.

I'm the monster lurking in the shadows… waiting, bidding my time to make her mine.

The tip of my boot kicks the door open, “Fucking idiot,” I mutter throwing the keys on the cheap table. I’m almost done sorting and packing through my old man’s things. But the legal documents I found in his office were a kick to my gut.

I had no clue he helped bail out the Flynn’s when money was tight and the bank was about to take the bar. He paid off the loan when Shanna’s old man gave him half ownership.

I don’t give a damn about the place. I don’t need a dime.

But it means something to her.

I also found out that my old man had money—a shit-ton. He stashed everything from the illegal shit he did when he was part of the MC—mostly drug running from Mexico up the coast. It was part of what we fought about when I was young and wanted to go a different way. I did, but I ended up in a different nightmare—the hell of war. And now I just fucked up my chances of having the sweetest thing I’ve seen in years:Shanna.

I lay my head in my hands in despair, trying to figure out how in the hell I’m going to fix the shit-storm I started.

The sweetness of her body still lingers on my tongue. I was ready to fuck her right there on the bar. I was so close to ripping the rest of her flimsy shirt off, so I could tongue every inch of her skin.

Damn, my cock is pissed off and my balls are so full they ache. Ever since I first saw her, they’ve become two sperm making demons.

I’m so fucked.

I want her.

She hates me.

My dick’s so hard—it’s going to snap if I don’t find relief soon.

Opening the fridge, I take out a beer, popping the top; kick my boots off and cross the room. Picking up the remote and turning on the TV, tuning in to the porn on this time of night.

My eyes focus on the two voluptuous women taking turns bobbing their heads up and down on the man.

My hands unzip my pants letting my huge cock spring out from its cage.

“Christ.” The cold air feels good.

I watch the women lick each other’s tits while they give the guy a hand job. But my hand isn’t doing the job tonight.

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