Page 125 of Kings Against the World

It’s an erotic sight that only intensifies my pleasure. I’m still reeling from my orgasms watching the man I desire lose himself inside me. He’s raw and animalistic as he drags his hips back, then strokes deeper into me. He gives into the urge taking him over and comes with a throaty groan.

A satisfied smirk spreads onto my lips as he crashes down beside me and I start peppering him with kisses.

“Now about those handcuffs.”

He barely registers what I’ve said before I’m snatching the pair from the basket and climbing astride him. I slap a cuff around his left wrist and hook the other around the iron bar on the headboard. Can of whipped cream back in hand, I spraya liberal amount down his abs, his pelvis, straight to his warm, throbbing dick.

“Time for some payback.”

Ozzie’s caught between the heavy breaths he takes and the laugh he gives. Then he’s groaning once I’ve swiped some of the whipped cream on his abs clean off with my tongue.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his eyes snapping shut. “The handcuffs were a mistake.”

He’s right as I proceed to give him one of the best, sloppiest blowjobs of his life. And then the cycle repeats itself as he finds a way to turn the tables and pleasure me some more.

By the end of the night, we’re aching and exhausted with an empty bottle of whipped cream. As we finally regain enough strength to get up and strip the bedsheets and shower, I can’t think of a better first night in my new home.

I can’t wait to make many more memories just like tonight with Ozzie by my side. I’m grateful for the undercover operation that led me not only to the closure I needed taking out Boone on my own terms. But the man who I can’t wait to experience life with.

34

OZZIE

“Alright,”Teysha says, standing up. “I think me and the baby have had all we can of tonight’s festivities. Happy New Year, everyone.”

“Get sleep where you can,” Korine says. “Newborn sleep schedules are something else.”

The rest of us nod from around the table as Logan gathers the baby carrier and diaper bag. Teysha’s hoisted up their little girl, Chloe, into her arms. The baby girl fusses in her rosy-pink onesie and matching headband, her dark brown hair starting to curl up. Her tiny fingers grab hold of Teysha’s hoop earring and makes others around the table laugh.

“I guess I haven’t learned my lesson. No hoops when you have a newborn,” Teysha sighs, almost laughing herself.

Logan comes to the rescue, gently disentangling Chloe’s fingers from his wife’s earring. “If that’s not our sign to head out, I don’t know what is.”

“Alright, man. See you around. Happy New Year.” I nod at them both.

“Blake and I are probably not far behind. My mom’s likely dozing off by now and we have to check on her before bed,” Korine says.

“I’m surprised Sunny didn’t come out. She’s the life of the party whenever she does,” says Mace as he takes a swig from his beer bottle.

He’s right. Everybody at the club loves Sunny McKibbens; she’s become a staple at the club as much as Mick has. Some have even joked that the two, both being widowed and in their sixties, should date. The grandfather and grandmother of the MC.

Cash and Korine leave only a few minutes after Teysha and Logan have, wishing us a happy New Year and promising to hang around longer at the next club event.

But the night’s far from over.

Zoe, Mace, Sydney, and I all get up and take part in a game of pool. Many of the others either play their own games or gather around and watch.

It’s barely scraping ten p.m. and the Steel Saloon is crowded with club members and their old ladies, club girls, prospects, and regulars around town. The music’s blasting and the drinks are flowing from the tap courtesy of Mick behind the bar counter.

I’m having a great time… without the alcohol. I’m sober as the day I was born and still having the fucking time of my life, a far cry from how I used to be.

But I’m about to hit my hundredth day of sobriety and I’m damn proud of myself. A hundred days with no alcohol. No drugs. No gambling and no benders on the horizon.

A hundred straight days on my meds, and I’m still Ozzie. Just… a better version.

I always thought if I stayed on them for too long, my personality would be wiped out. I couldn’t do all the things I like to do, like riding and partying and living life to the fullest.

Turns out, I was wrong. That was an excuse to keep bad habits and never clean up my act.

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