Jax's Dilemma:Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 2) by Chiah Wilder
Authors: Chiah Wilder
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she came into the room, but she wouldn’t fucking let him explain. He wasn’t doing shit with Peaches. He had got to the club, worried Peaches was going to hurt herself, and when he went into her dressing room and saw her in her stripper outfit, sitting on the couch, she didn’t look all that upset to him. After they talked for a bit and he realized she had exaggerated so he’d come to the club, he started to get up to leave when Peaches pushed him back and started pushing her tits in his face and rubbing her barely covered pussy over his dick.
He tried shoving her away, but she kept moving all around him, and his dick got harder. He was peeling her off him when Cherri opened the door and got a full view of a half-naked Peaches and his hard-on. He didn’t blame her for being pissed. She probably thought he used her. And, of course, he had a hard-on—he was a man, and any soft ass grinding against his cock would wake it up. But it didn’t mean he wanted Peaches or was going to fuck her. Since he’d tasted Cherri, he craved only her. He had to make things right with her. He just had to.
* * *
Slivers of moonlight pierce through the shutter slats. Quiet stillness lends an eeriness to the night. Several high howls and low barks from the neighborhood punctuate the blackness.
It is a hot, thick night. The oscillating fan in the corner of the bedroom blows streams of hot air in Cherri’s face. She hears the floorboards creak outside her door. Her heart beats faster, her chest heaving, and she fears it will burst out of her. Silence. She knows he’s out there, can almost hear his short breaths. Dampness forms under her breasts and upper lip. She pulls the sheet up above her chin, encasing it around her like a cocoon. Under the sheet, the oppressive heat surrounds her.
The doorknob clicks and turns slowly. She holds her breath, waiting—waiting for the door to open and the man to enter. Click. It opens, a shadowy figure looming in the doorway. He comes closer. Cherri, covering her head with her sheet, hopes it’ll make her invisible. The mattress depresses as he sits down next to her. She hears him panting, his excitement palpable. She shivers despite the temperature. His chuckles come from deep within his chest, and his drumming fingers against the mattress sound like a metronome. She wants to scream. He’s playing with her.
He tugs the sheet away from her grip, sliding it out of her clammy hands. She opens her eyes and sees his lust-filled ones shining as they fix on her ripe, young breasts. He leans toward her, and his mouth silences her small, “No.” Kneading her breasts with his hand, he pushes her down on her back as he lifts up her cotton nightshirt. She whimpers. He presses his lips against her mouth as his hand rubs her hips.
“No,” she snivels.
“Shh, honey. I’m not gonna hurt you. Daddies never hurt their special girls.” His mouth starts its descent toward her breasts. Something hard, like a wrench, rubs against her private parts.
No… no…
Cherri woke up gasping for air, sweat pouring down her neck and under her arms. She rubbed her forehead, trying to dispel the ghosts of her past. Getting up, she put a cold washcloth against her hot face, the coolness giving her some relief. She looked at her phone; it read seven-thirty in the evening and twenty-five missed calls—all of them from Jax.
“Are you okay, Cherri?” her roommate, Ginger, asked as she softly knocked on the door. Cherri sat mutely on her bed, looking at the door.
“Cherri?” Ginger’s voice was louder that time as she came into the room, gazing at Cherri. “I heard you yelling; is anything wrong?”
Sighing, Cherri shook her head. “No. Just a bad dream, that’s all.”
“Must’ve been some dream. You were screaming.”
Cherri shrugged. “Sorry.”
“You sure you’re okay? You look real sad.”
“All men are assholes.”
Ginger laughed. “You just figuring this out now? Don’t be sad
He tried shoving her away, but she kept moving all around him, and his dick got harder. He was peeling her off him when Cherri opened the door and got a full view of a half-naked Peaches and his hard-on. He didn’t blame her for being pissed. She probably thought he used her. And, of course, he had a hard-on—he was a man, and any soft ass grinding against his cock would wake it up. But it didn’t mean he wanted Peaches or was going to fuck her. Since he’d tasted Cherri, he craved only her. He had to make things right with her. He just had to.
* * *
Slivers of moonlight pierce through the shutter slats. Quiet stillness lends an eeriness to the night. Several high howls and low barks from the neighborhood punctuate the blackness.
It is a hot, thick night. The oscillating fan in the corner of the bedroom blows streams of hot air in Cherri’s face. She hears the floorboards creak outside her door. Her heart beats faster, her chest heaving, and she fears it will burst out of her. Silence. She knows he’s out there, can almost hear his short breaths. Dampness forms under her breasts and upper lip. She pulls the sheet up above her chin, encasing it around her like a cocoon. Under the sheet, the oppressive heat surrounds her.
The doorknob clicks and turns slowly. She holds her breath, waiting—waiting for the door to open and the man to enter. Click. It opens, a shadowy figure looming in the doorway. He comes closer. Cherri, covering her head with her sheet, hopes it’ll make her invisible. The mattress depresses as he sits down next to her. She hears him panting, his excitement palpable. She shivers despite the temperature. His chuckles come from deep within his chest, and his drumming fingers against the mattress sound like a metronome. She wants to scream. He’s playing with her.
He tugs the sheet away from her grip, sliding it out of her clammy hands. She opens her eyes and sees his lust-filled ones shining as they fix on her ripe, young breasts. He leans toward her, and his mouth silences her small, “No.” Kneading her breasts with his hand, he pushes her down on her back as he lifts up her cotton nightshirt. She whimpers. He presses his lips against her mouth as his hand rubs her hips.
“No,” she snivels.
“Shh, honey. I’m not gonna hurt you. Daddies never hurt their special girls.” His mouth starts its descent toward her breasts. Something hard, like a wrench, rubs against her private parts.
No… no…
Cherri woke up gasping for air, sweat pouring down her neck and under her arms. She rubbed her forehead, trying to dispel the ghosts of her past. Getting up, she put a cold washcloth against her hot face, the coolness giving her some relief. She looked at her phone; it read seven-thirty in the evening and twenty-five missed calls—all of them from Jax.
“Are you okay, Cherri?” her roommate, Ginger, asked as she softly knocked on the door. Cherri sat mutely on her bed, looking at the door.
“Cherri?” Ginger’s voice was louder that time as she came into the room, gazing at Cherri. “I heard you yelling; is anything wrong?”
Sighing, Cherri shook her head. “No. Just a bad dream, that’s all.”
“Must’ve been some dream. You were screaming.”
Cherri shrugged. “Sorry.”
“You sure you’re okay? You look real sad.”
“All men are assholes.”
Ginger laughed. “You just figuring this out now? Don’t be sad
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