Home > Bayonet Scars #2 - Thrash

Bayonet Scars #2 - Thrash
Author: J.C. Emery


J.C. Emery - Bayonet Scars #2 - Thrash

Thrash (Bayonet Scars #2)
J.C. Emery

romance/new adult/erotica

 

Prologue

EVERYTHING IS FUCKED up. The room tilts slightly—or maybe it’s me—and the edges of everything around me is fuzzy. Maybe I drank too much this time. No, scratch that, I know I drank too much this time. Being here, with him, should be my first clue that I fucked up and went too far. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this, not with him. This is what happens when I drink too much. I make poor decisions. This time my poor decision has an all-too-familiar name: Duke.

He’s been trying to fuck me for years and I’ve always lied through my teeth and let him think that I wasn’t interested. If he knew about the stupid crush I’ve been harboring for him after all these years, I wouldn’t have been able to keep him off of me for this long. He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.

It doesn’t matter what-- or who-- he’s doing. Every night we’re both here, we hang out for a while. Usually, it’s me sitting in silence drinking my beer, and it’s Duke telling me I should suck his dick-- to which I decline. But he’s here and it’s a routine I’ve come to appreciate. It’s not much, but it’s something. And until now, it’s always been enough.

Maybe just for one night I want to let myself indulge in the fantasy.

He holds my hand in his, atop his bent knee. I’m leaning into him, an arm on the top of the bar to hold myself upright, my ass is scooted to the edge of the barstool. Duke’s blue eyes are bloodshot and hazy. Small lines appear on the sides from the smile on his face. I try to smile back, but I probably look like a stroke victim. Everything keeps tilting. It’s really not fair because it makes it harder to really see him. He’s all thick neck and goatee and short blond hair and sex. And I’ve seen him make other Lost Girls come. They scream their brains out as he fucks them hard. And tonight it’s my turn. Tonight, it’s like Christmas and I’m about to get a present that is going to make it hard to walk for the next two days.

I try to focus on the beer bottle as he brings it to his lips. I can’t quite read the label on the side. It’s less than a foot away, but everything I look at seems backwards, but not backwards at the same time. Damn, I’m fucked up. He tips his head back, and gulps down what’s left in the bottle. Sitting the empty on the bar, Duke licks the beer off his lips. It’s almost like he’s teasing me with every part of his body I’ve fantasized about for so long, but have never given myself the right to have. I don’t realize I’m biting my lip until it hurts. He smirks and pulls my lip away from my teeth.

We’ve never been here before. This close. It’s unnerving.

“You’ve been a hard one to catch,” he says. I purse my lips and smile at him. Duke has always been the kind of guy that people are just naturally drawn to. Ever since the first time I saw him freshman year of high school, I’ve had a thing for him. But Duke likes to fuck around and play mind games and that’s a surefire way to get my heart broken. So, no thank you.

But right now he’s all muscles and goatee and smooth talking, and I’m all drunk and relaxed, and up for anything. So, yes please.

“Let’s go,” he says, standing from his position on the stool. He gives my hand a slight tug, encouraging me to move. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. I list myself off the seat and move to step down, but somehow lose my footing and slip toward the floor. A strong arm catches me on my way down, pulling me against a mass of warmth wrapped in leather and jeans.

Holding me up, Duke leads us through the main room of the Forsaken Motorcycle Club’s clubhouse, and down a long hallway with doors on both sides. At the very end of the hall are the double doors to the chapel. I’ve never been in there. If there’s anything sacred to an outlaw motorcycle club, it’s the chapel. On the left side is the palace, which I admit with no great amount of pride, that I’ve danced half naked in a time or two. The other doors lead to bedrooms which serve as crash pads for club members, and I know exactly which rooms belongs to which brother. All Lost Girls know that.

We stop at the third door on the right which Duke was gifted when he earned his officer patch as SECRETARY. He reaches out, twists the handle and lets the door swing open. The room is dimly lit and reeks of body odor, which is not uncommon. With his hand on my lower back, he encourages me into the room with a gentle push. I blow out a deep breath and walk in, shrugging off my reservations.

This is what we do. It’s nothing really. The club, the girls. We drink, and fuck, and pass out. But Duke and I have a history, and I told myself I wouldn’t do this—not with the man who used to be the boy who I once thought hung the moon. But now I know better. He’ll be all about me for a minute before he tosses me aside, just like he’s done to every girl who’s come before me.

As the door clicks shut behind me, I decide that all of this overthinking is bullshit. I knew what I was doing when I showed up tonight. After the bullshit with Jeremy at school today, I needed the release, so I showed up at the clubhouse. This was the whole point of coming, wasn’t it? To fuck and forget—to let the entire world dissolve into a vacuum of feeling devoid of worry?

Fuck it.

I spin around to face Duke, giving him a smile that’s a total goddamn lie. After all this time, the idea of being with Duke puts my nerves on edge. I’ve thought about this moment for so long that I almost can’t believe it’s really happening. He lifts his chin just slightly, making his goatee look longer than it is. Before I can stop myself, I lunge at him. Leaping into the air, my hands latch onto his shoulders and as smoothly as I can, I wrap my legs around his waist. Immediately, he grabs at my ass, keeping me in the air. Now firm in his arms, I move my hands to the sides of his neck and pull his face to mine. I press my lips to his, and don’t have to wait for him to catch up. If there’s one thing I’ve heard about Duke, it’s that he knows how to fuck.

A jolt of what I can only describe as pure electricity runs through me at the touch of his lips on mine. He presses down, relentless in his pursuit. His lips are rougher than I expect, but not entirely unwelcome. I open my mouth, inviting him in. Just like I knew he’d be, Duke takes every invitation I extend. Pushing my pelvis into his, a low growl erupts from deep in his throat as his hands clamp down on my pliant flesh. A moan escapes me at the contact.

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