Puck’s Property by Monique Moreau

ChapterTwenty-Seven

They’d gone from living together, sleeping together, and fucking through the night to sharing a single meal in silence or with him rambling on like an idiot. Puck didn’t have any reason to complain after his massive fuckup, but that knowledge didn’t make it any easier. The first time they’d gotten together, it had happened organically. Then he’d fucked it up. The second time, he’d pushed, got what he wanted, and fucked it up again. Third time around, they were doing it her way. Of course, her way sucked ass ’cause there was no sex involved. No touching. No kissing or licking or… Christ. There was nothing. Regardless, he powered through it and made sure his ass was parked outside her house by the time she drove up.

Tonight was different, though. Instead of strolling past him and slamming the door closed, she paused in front of him and said in a serious tone, “We need to talk.” Continuing to her front steps, she unlocked the door and left it open for him. Swinging off his bike, he followed her inside. He shrugged off his jacket and then got comfortable on her comfy sofa. He had no idea what she wanted. No idea whatsoever. For the first time in a long time, he wrangled to get his nerves under control. Ava could be ready to tell him to go fuck himself for good, so it was a shock when the first thing out of her mouth was about Officer Dipshit.

“You have access to channels I don’t have, and I need you to investigate Derick Cotman. I think he’s the one who destroyed the Squad Bar. Like I initially told you, it wasn’t the Renegades at fault.”

He knew that pussy motherfucker wasn’t to be trusted. He’d felt it in his gut the instant he laid eyes on that piss-ass fuck. His enmity had only increased when he caught the bastard salivating after Ava.

“Tell me what you know,” he demanded gruffly.

“Recently, he started hanging out in my office during his coffee break again. He’d stopped for a while. Come to think of it, it was when we were together.”

“We’re still together,” he drawled.

Ava rolled her eyes and pursed her lips but didn’t otherwise contradict him. “Anyway, today he admitted to stalking me. To following me around. He knew we were dating, which was the first big tip-off. But what really disturbed me was how angry he seemed about it. While I was talking to him, it suddenly hit me that he was the one. He did it. I’m certain of it, Puck,” she finished resolutely. “Have you found out who trashed the bar?”

“Nope. It definitely wasn’t the Renegades. They’ve gone out of their way to stay on our good side and help us. They also had a party the night of the attack, with dozens of people in their clubhouse. Not that it’s a solid alibi, but Kingdom had a meeting with the president of the mother chapter, the president of the Poughkeepsie chapter, and your father. He walked out of there convinced they had no intention of stirring up trouble. We haven’t had any leads up till now. That fucker rubbed me the wrong way from day one. I’m a man who trusts my gut, and my gut told me he was bad news.”

“I thought it was because he flirted with me,” she sassed.

“That sure as hell didn’t help,” he retorted. “It was more, though. Something’s off about him.” He rose to his feet and walked to the exposed window. Staring into the night, he mused, “The bastard’s been following you around, huh?” He slowly unhooked the cord from the little hook against the casing of the window and lowered the blinds.

“Yes, at times I sensed someone was watching me. You know that prickly sensation you get on the back of your neck? I assumed it was you, that you’d posted a prospect to watch over me. It never occurred to me it could be a stranger.”

Puck dropped the cord and turned to her. “You didn’t have a problem with the idea of me having someone watch you?”

Ava gave a small one-shouldered shrug. “Clubs have enemies. Abby told me about the man who attacked her to take revenge on Loki.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. Plucking at her slacks, she finished in a soft tone, “I don’t doubt you’d do anything to protect my physical person from harm. I doubt you in other ways.”

“But it proves you trust me to safeguard you,” he contended.

“In some ways. Not in other ways.”

He came to her and dropped to his knees. “What do I have to do to prove how much I love you? I’m here every fucking night, enduring your silent treatment so I can be close to you. Angel, you’ve got to know I’ve learned my lesson.”

She kept her eyes cast down. Bringing a finger under her chin, he slowly raised it until her eyes were level with his. “What do I have to do to prove you’re my priority? No matter what. I swear to you, I’ll never hold out on you again, never avoid talking to you about something, or put you second.”

Finally, her eyes locked in on his. Thank fuck. He fell into her wide yellow-and-green splintered eyes. They roved over his face, dipped down to the V where the top buttons of his Henley were undone. Her gaze skated from one shoulder to the other, and then cascaded down his entire chest. On his end, he stared at the silky waves of her burnished hair, her pert nose, and plush lips. He planted his hands on either side of her hips.

“Please,” he begged softly. He’d never pleaded in his life, but here he was, down on his fucking knees, begging this woman to give him one last chance. He was ready to do it every damn night if it’d break through her resistance.

“How can I trust it won’t happen again?”

Good question. Lucky for him, he had the answer. “We’ll do it your way this time.”

“My way?” Her lips twisted sardonically. “And what is my way?”

“See a therapist. Stop hiding and avoiding stuff that comes up. Talking. Communicating. See? I listen. I may not have followed, but I know what makes you tick, angel. What makes you feel safe. I should’ve given it to you from the beginning, but I’m a muleheaded bastard, and I don’t like to be vulnerable or admit weakness. You’re not just anyone; you’re the woman I fucking love, and I’m on my knees, willing to do whatever it takes for you to give me another chance.”

She tipped her head down, and her lips gently grazed his. Like gates of a dam swinging open, his hands were all over her. Her hips, her waist, her tits. He opened his mouth, and by the grace of everything that was holy in this twisted, fucked world, she returned the gesture.

Moaning, he deepened the kiss, and her hands tugged at his shoulders and upper arms to pull him closer.

“What is it you need, Ava?” he coaxed. He heard the hunger, the desperation in his tone, and he didn’t give a fuck; he was dying to hear her admit to wanting him. For fuck’s sake, he needed to be needed by her.

“I want you. Now. I need you, Puck.”

Pulling deep from a hidden reserve of self-restraint, he paused his caresses to confirm, “You sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed against his lips. “But this time around, I’m not going to be meek and quiet anymore.”

“Angel, you’re a badass when you need to be, and you’re meek when you need to be.”

“No,” she said firmly. “My error was that I didn’t vocalize my needs, but I won’t make the same mistake twice. You must be taught to pay attention to me, and that lesson starts now,” she warned as she pulled him to sit beside her.

A rumble rose from his throat. Ava attempting to take over was sexy as all hell.

Standing, she raised her cable-knit sweater off and quickly divested herself of the rest of her clothing. Watching her strip, he palmed his hardening cock. She gestured for him to stand up, and once he was naked, she planted her palm on his chest and shoved him backward. Stumbling back a step, he landed on the couch, and she immediately straddled him with her firm, slim legs. They both moaned as her wet pussy settled on the underside of his shaft. Moving back and forth, she slathered his steel-hard cock with her juices. Her intoxicating vanilla scent filled his nostrils, leaving him dazed.

Taking his cock in hand, she slowly impaled herself. He let out a guttural sound at the tautness of her wet, hot sex, but she didn’t stop or give herself a moment to adjust to his size. It’d been more than two weeks, and her sheath felt so damn good wrapped around him. Breathing through his open mouth, his head dropped back.

A bite on his lower lip snapped his attention to her.

“Eyes on me,” she ordered. Drops of blood dotted his bottom lip, and his vision blurred with lust.

Grinning through the pain and oozing blood, he said, “You gonna hurt me, little girl?”

“Punishment for what you put me through,” she justified smugly.

“Do your worst,” he growled as she slammed down hard on him. Fuck! The pain of his lip mingled with the buzz swarming his body. She’d barely begun, but his body was primed for her after so many days apart. His balls already drawn up in anticipation of spilling. “Ride me,” he commanded hoarsely.

She didn’t need to be told twice. Holding on to the back of the couch, she took him inside her tight clutch again and again. Breathing harshly, she rode him for gold. This other side of Ava was a shocker. She was by no means a slouch in bed, but he usually took the initiative and dominated her. To witness her taking her fill, taking him, greedy and demanding, was like a hit of cocaine. He was so damn controlling that it’d never occurred to him to give her the reins, but holy fuck, he’d been the fool. She had a wicked fire burning in her. It’d been muzzled by the self-restraint she’d imposed on herself over the years. Watching as she slammed down on his wet cock, he’d found himself a wild thing. She bit and nipped wherever her teeth landed. Her nails raking down his chest, leaving a trail of angry red marks. As if in a delirium, she took and took, lifting and dropping on his cock relentlessly.

Yanking his hair, she dragged his head back. Pausing halfway down his shaft, she panted against his lips. Her open mouth slid down his throat and latched on. His hips punched up to get back into her tight heat, but she shook her head. “Nuh-uh. This is my rodeo, bronco.”

To show off her control, she moved down with excruciating slowness, a pace meant only to torture him. He bared his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides to keep from taking her by the nape and going dominant on her. She was right. This was her ride, and he was going to honor it if it killed him.

“Babe, I’ll be your bronco any fucking day.”

She shuddered above him and then dropped the rest of the way until he was buried to the hilt. Breathless, she dropped her forehead on his shoulder. Moving her hair aside, he licked up the side of her throat and murmured in her ear, “When we fuck like this, it’s like a sacred space where our souls join.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, flickered open, and then she popped back up. His words lit a fire; she quickened her pace, fucking him raw. Angling his hips, he thrust up to meet her, hitting her in her most vulnerable spot. A gasp slipped past her lips, immediately followed by a moan. Aww, hell, her walls clenched down on his shaft like a vise. Writhing her hips, she screamed out his name. Clutching her waist, he lifted her and rammed her down on his cock. “Motherf—”

His brain short-circuited.

Ripping her off him, he placed her on her knees. Her hands seized the back of the couch, and he mounted her from behind. His hand slid around to her front, clasped her throat, and squeezed. She was so wet that the sloppy, smacking sounds of their flesh and of his balls slapping against her pussy resonated throughout the room. His fingers on her throat triggered a second orgasm and this time, her cunt milking him was too much.

Releasing his grip, his palms smacked down beside her own, and he emptied himself. Swear to Christ, he had so much come built up from the weeks of deprivation, that he would’ve given her a baby if she wasn’t on contraception. Hell, with the furious intensity of their fucking, he wouldn’t be surprised if she got pregnant anyway.

Bowed over her, his chest fell against her slick back. Ava went limp and slumped forward. It took some time before he had enough control over his muscles to move. She let out a small whine when he withdrew. Wrapping his arms around her, he dragged her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

Gazing down at her, he promised, “You won’t regret giving me another chance.”

“Make sure I don’t,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Never again,” he vowed. Laying on the bed beside her, he dragged her until she was lying on top of him. Throwing the covers over her, he settled in and let out his first content sigh in weeks. One hand behind his head, the other cupping her ass, he let Ava pepper his chest with light kisses.

“You know I’m gonna have to hurt him, right?”

She settled her chin on top of her folded hands. Expression calm, she conceded, “Yes, I know.”

“You’re not gonna give me grief like Abby gave Loki, are you? Letting your social worker side kick in like it did for her?”

Her gaze wandered away from his as she considered his question. He was so damn greedy for her that he shifted uneasily under the absence of her gaze. Thankfully, it returned to him.

“We’re both social workers, but we work with different populations. Abby’s focused on helping survivors of violence, mostly domestic violence, which is the worst kind. It’s so intimate that the betrayal goes much deeper. Some of the people I work with are perpetrators. Violence is in the air you breathe in jail; it’s a part of life. I also grew up around bikers. They may not be like the Squad, but they share the same values, so, no, I won’t give you any grief. I got chills when he admitted to following me. It gave me a creepy feeling, and I didn’t like that.”

His lips twitched. “So you think violence is the answer?”

“Certainly not,” she huffed. “He needs to see a psychiatrist or therapist, not get beaten up, but the reality is that he went after the Squad. He took the law into his own hands. I definitely think you should catch him and turn him over to the police.”

Puck grunted. “Assuming we can connect him to the crime, a CO’s gonna have to do worse than bust up a bar to get real time. If we went the legal route, it would close the window of opportunity we have to make him pay.”

“Do you think he’s connected to Kingpin somehow?”

“Good question,” he replied with a frown. The thought had definitely crossed his mind. They’d find out for sure when they caught Dipshit and questioned him. “He could be out there now, for all we know. He needs to be neutralized. Come to think of it,” he said and gently moved Ava off him. He returned to the living room, shoved his legs into his jeans and tugged his boots on. Throwing on his jacket, he scanned the area through the blinds for a few minutes. He didn’t see any suspicious activity. Dipshit could be out there, but Puck would take the risk of going to his bike to retrieve his gun. Coming back unharmed, he shucked off his clothes and went back to the bedroom. Placing the firearm carefully on the nightstand, he came back to her side.

“You’re cold,” she protested as he returned her to her spot on his chest.

“You don’t want to warm up your man?” he teased. She grimaced at the last word he uttered. “What?” he demanded, caressing down her spine, ending at her ass. Grabbing one buttock in his hand, he gave it a little swat and tried again. “Talk to me, Ava. We said, ‘no more holding back.’”

“I worry.” The two words slipped out of her mouth. “You’ve worn me down yet again, although this time you managed to leave out the blackmail,” she ended drily. “But…it could happen again.”

“It won’t,” he replied fiercely. Never had anyone doubted him, and to get that from Ava, of all people, felt wrong. “We grow. We learn. I’ve learned, and I’m telling you, I’m not going back to a cold bed instead of lying in here with you every night. It chipped away at my fucking soul. After breaking up with you the first time, I was a mess over my mother, and I didn’t experience the soul-crushing pain of not having you. Man, did I feel it this time around. I get that you have doubts, but I’ll do everything in my power to prove myself. Matter of fact, it’s better if you don’t trust me. Makes me more determined to prove you wrong.”

“Prove it to me now,” she prompted, with a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

“Yeah? I’ll prove it by thrusting my tongue in your pussy until you scream,” he said, turning her onto her back and shimmying down between her splayed legs.

“Humph, now you’re talking,” she quipped.

And he did just that. If all it took was for him to tongue-fuck her every day, then he’d gotten the break of his life.