LOGIN~Valerie~
Another imposing guard stands at the tinted glass entrance. Not as tall as the others, but bulkier. His eyes scan us, then pause on me, the scowl on his face deepening. Another sergeant. “The bar isn’t open until seven p.m., girl.” His low hiss booms in the air, echoing in the breeze. “She’s with me. Our new waitress,” Rikky states before I can even open my mouth. He groans and nods, eyes trailing over me again. He opens the door, and we enter the building. I enter behind Rikky, my steps faltering as a low whistle rings out behind me, but I don’t stop. My eyes take in the layout as we move further into the room. The strong smell of alcohol, sour and bitter, mixes with hanging smoke, smelling like fuel and metal. Biker men are scattered around the room, huge, bulky, and scary, fat cigars clenched in their mouths. All wearing their patches over their outfits. Glasses of cold beer dot the wide, long tables on the lower floor away from the bar. Red lights flicker in the corners. Slow country music plays from the upper center of the room, a guy bent over the machine, the music rising, cutting, then rising again. “Valerie,” a young, familiar voice calls behind me. I turn to see Levi, one of the sergeants who accompanies Ronan to my house during his monthly visits. He grins, dimples deepening, almost disarming him, making me forget that he’s just as dangerous as every man in this room. His unruly dark hair sways with his steps as he stops before me, hands dipped into his pants pockets. “What y’all doing here, girl?” My lips spread as I shrug. “Got a job here.” His eyes widen. “Oh. You’re the new waitress. Damn.” His eyes run over me, and he licks his lips. “Welcome to the family, girl.” I smile, but my lips freeze as an eerie coldness seeps through my skin, slow and burning. My shoulders draw back on instinct. My breath stutters, then settles into a slow, heavy rhythm. I know that feeling. I’m too well-versed with it. It’s only one person who makes my wolf stir without warning. Ronan. His scent hits me before I even find him. The first breath of winter, fresh, chilly air. Sharp. Cold. Commanding. With a bit of simmering warmth, almost fur-like. It makes me want to sink into it. I drag the scent deep into my lungs and press my lips together. My mouth waters. My tongue flattens against the roof of my mouth. Levi mumbles something about seeing me later, but I don’t even listen. My head snaps back, and I see him. He stands by the bar counter, tall and muscular, broad shoulders, emotionless, cold eyes. His hair fans his neck, dark and thick. My palms itch to slip through it, to know if he’d like it. His eyes trail over me, slow and deliberate, burning and ripping. My pussy clenches hard, my eyes devouring his presence, sliding down his dangerously thick forearms, the tattoos wrapping around both arms. I wonder if they extend beneath his clothes or if that’s all there is. His waist, slim and hard even beneath the leather vest. Thick, strong thighs clad in tight jeans. “Alpha,” I whisper softly, bowing. It’s so fucking low, barely even to my ears. My nails curl into my palms, digging in. I glance at Rikky beside me before returning my gaze to him. “Valerie,” he grunts. Deep. Gravelly. From his throat. I gasp. The sound rips off my tongue before I can stop it. My lips hang open, my eyes widening just a little. His gaze shifts to Rikky, a flash of irritation glinting quickly before it disappears. His eyes grow cold again, and he turns away, dismissing me. Again. As usual. But it doesn’t hurt this time. Even as I hurry my steps to match Rikky, I still steal a glance at his back. Rikky opens a door in the corner behind the bar station, and we both enter. “Fuck, that was intense,” she groans, turning to me. “Your Alpha is one scary man. I can’t ever get used to it. I don’t even know who’s scarier between him and my dad.” My lips twitch, but I don’t say a word. I can’t, not with my heart racing like it’s about to explode, not with the dampness growing in my cunt. I don’t think I can breathe without moaning right now. She shakes her head. “Sometimes I think it’s better to quit here and go back to my pack home to work instead. There, I’d get special treatment as the Alpha’s daughter, not scrambling around here in the neighborhood pack.” I shrug, swallowing. We walk down the narrow hallway, passing several doors. Three doors, then we stop at the fourth. Rikky knocks, then opens it when a voice answers from inside. The man who gave me the job sits behind a desk. The room is small and dim, the window closed, with only a small strip of light illuminating it. The club manager. “Gunnar,” Rikky nods, then gestures to me. Gunnar glances at me, then closes the file on his desk. “Valerie,” he breathes slowly, leaning back in his chair. His eyes remain dull. Neutral. “Welcome on board. I hope your stay lasts longer than your friend’s here. But the only way that happens is if you face your duties and don’t trespass where you’re not allowed.” He pauses, then adds, “I don’t care whether you spread your pussy for customers or whatever, as long as you don’t slack off during work hours. What you do after that is none of my business. Are we clear?” “Yes,” I manage softly. He nods. “Good. Rikky, show her the storeroom. Let her arrange the usual amount of alcohol crates and wipe the dust off the bottles. The bartender will carry them himself.” We nod and leave the office, following Rikky back toward one of the doors we passed earlier. She opens a door, the one opposite the door leading into the bar. A tiny, dusty smell brands the air. It’s big. Widely big. Alcohol crates line the walls. A small window opens high above. “Here,” Rikky gestures to the drinks. “Use the stool and wipe the dust off the bottles, one by one, at least four crates. That’s the towel. When you’re done, wash it.” I eye the stool and the ladder-like lines around its legs. “I’ll be in the bar arranging things. Come get me if you need anything.” “Yeah,” I mumble, but my mind is already running wild. The moment the door slams shut behind her, I fall back against it. My body shakes. My thighs clench, pressing together. Fuck. I can still hear Ronan calling my name in that deep, pussy-dripping voice. Heat pools in my core. Scorching. Consuming. I can’t wait. I can’t take this. My heart races as my hands crawl over my thighs, trembling. No one would find me. They’re all too busy. Just a release, to relieve myself. I’ll go crazy if I don’t. I need to touch myself before I do something stupid. I can’t help myself, and I hope he knows, that he smells it from a distance. And that I’m not letting go until I have his huge, thick member buried deep inside my hole. Yes. I’ll take him over and over. Even when I’m too drained, I’d still take him. I drag down my shorts, sliding them over my thighs. I exhale slowly. Heat spreads through my belly, suffocating, curling low and tight. My scent thickens, sweet and wrong. It’s too much. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before. Maybe it’s because he’s here, close enough to walk in on me at any second. But I don’t care. I pray he watches.~Valerie~My eyes are literally devouring him. I can’t stop. I’m standing there like a fucking statue, clutching a plastic tray to my chest while my brain tries to process the man standing in front of me.He remembers. He remembers. My brain can’t stop screaming. I notice the words on his patch. Vice President.They’re are mocking me. All this time, all those nights I spent under my covers, rubbing myself raw to the memory of those amber eyes, he was right here. Not a ghost. Not a dream. He was a few miles away, tucked into the dark, oily heart of the neighborhood pack’s territory, running a goddamn empire alongside Ronan.He doesn't just look at me, he looks through me. It’s like he can see the pulse thrumming in my throat and the way my thighs are starting to tremble. He lifts a hand, pointing a long, tattooed finger toward the far corner of the bar room."VIP Three," he says, his voice a low, sandpaper rasp that vibrates in my lower belly. "Bring me a bottle of Black Label and a
~Valerie~My face is pressed against the cold tile, and I’m pretty sure I look like a fucking wreck.The chill of the floor should be helping, should be cooling the fire under my skin, but it isn’t. Every time I close my eyes, I see those gray eyes, darker than the smoke in the bar, colder than the winter air he carries around.He knew.He didn’t have to say a word. The way his nose flared, the way his gaze dropped to the mess I’d made of myself... he smelled me. He smelled my need, my sin, my absolute pathetic desperation for him.And then he just walked away.“Fuck,” I whisper into the dust on the floor. My voice is thrashed, scratchy.I’m nineteen. I’m supposed to be in control. I’m supposed to be the one pulling the strings, walking in here and claiming his space, but one grunt. One, “Valerie,” from his throat, and I’m a puddle. Literally.I roll over, my back hitting the crates of alcohol. A bottle of bourbon clinks against my shoulder, mocking me. Wipe the dust, Valerie. Do your
~Valerie~I drag my shorts down completely, my veins blazing, raw molten heat running through my body.My chest rises and falls sharply, every breath hot with my sinful urgency.This is reckless. Fucking dangerous.I shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s beyond me. I can’t help it.My shorts lie discarded in the room. I push up my top, baring my tits to the open air. Hard. Perky. Heavy.I cup my palms around them and squeeze, humming quietly, rolling the hard, perky nubs with my thumbs.My breath grows harsh, thickening as I rub harder. I arch my back, lowering my naked ass onto the rods of my heels.I’m too lost in my head, with no care or shame that anyone could enter and see me like this.Naked. Needy. Tainted. Horny. Dripping.Fuck.I’m scared. My stomach is tied in knots. But the rational part of me decided long before I could think.My heat presses into the cold tiled floor, and I draw in a sharp breath. I imagine it’s his tongue. I imagine it’s him beneath me right now. That it’s h
~Valerie~My muscles clench tight.Everything in me is fucking taut and on edge. I can’t breathe properly, my heart is pounding too fast and too loud for me to even catch up with.Desire pools in my stomach, hot and fast. My skin burns, prickling, scalding, like if he doesn’t touch me soon I’d die.It’s too damn much.I need him.I want him inside me.My breath hitches, my shoulders press against the door. My tits thrust out, round, full, ripe.Gods, I need to touch myself. I can’t… can’t survive anymore. I didn’t know I was going to be this hot in his presence. I didn’t know I’d be spiraling out of control just after seeing him.Just one close encounter. One fucking look and he called my name, now I’m like a sex-lust puppy. My nipples are poking out, my tits are aching and feeling heavier, heat dampens in my core seeping down in slick stream.I’m stuttering and panting, lust-drunk and breathless.The way my name rolls off his tongue, slow, intense, raw, fuck, it feels like sin.I wan
~Valerie~Another imposing guard stands at the tinted glass entrance. Not as tall as the others, but bulkier. His eyes scan us, then pause on me, the scowl on his face deepening.Another sergeant.“The bar isn’t open until seven p.m., girl.”His low hiss booms in the air, echoing in the breeze.“She’s with me. Our new waitress,” Rikky states before I can even open my mouth.He groans and nods, eyes trailing over me again. He opens the door, and we enter the building.I enter behind Rikky, my steps faltering as a low whistle rings out behind me, but I don’t stop. My eyes take in the layout as we move further into the room.The strong smell of alcohol, sour and bitter, mixes with hanging smoke, smelling like fuel and metal.Biker men are scattered around the room, huge, bulky, and scary, fat cigars clenched in their mouths. All wearing their patches over their outfits. Glasses of cold beer dot the wide, long tables on the lower floor away from the bar.Red lights flicker in the corners.
~Valerie~My thighs press together. Quivering. Soaked. Sticky. I exhale slowly, my body trembling as I lean deeper into the car seat.Rikky’s gaze shifts toward me, her amber eyes scanning my face for a second as she drives, then returning back to the road, but she doesn’t know.No. She doesn’t know the nasty, filthy thoughts in my mind right now. She doesn’t know that her friend is dripping in a fucking mess, she doesn’t know that my panties are creamily soaked right here in her red deadbeat truck.But I can’t help it. I can’t help myself.It is fucking wrong. Fuck, it is wrong, wrong, wrong.My tits are aching, my nipples are hard and straining against the stretchy tank top I’m wearing. I can smell my arousal despite the thickness of the jean shorts I’m wearing, even as the rush of afternoon air blows through the open windows.I can still smell myself.Soft. Musky.I hope Rikky won’t notice. I pray she’s too busy thinking about arriving at the bar early to notice my nipples.There’s







