Bash (Diablo Disciples MC #6)

FIFTEEN

Bash

After getting Charlotte out of her clothes and into his t-shirt and putting her in bed, there was only one place to go. Well, two, but sleeping beside her would come next.

There was a growing anger as Bash climbed off his bike after a brief ride to a quiet suburbia neighborhood. The two-story house was within a gated wall, newly built in the past months for safety measures. It boasted a keypad entrance and cameras around the estate. No part of the property was unguarded. And that included a prospect parked outside, leaning a hip on his bike seat. Bash waved over while texting Denver to open the gate.

As soon as the message was read, the gate whirled open, and he walked the short distance to the back door, which was unlocked for him.

There stood his friend with bare feet, relaxed out of club colors, in a football shirt and sweatpants. His hair was messy, like he’d been rolling around in bed for hours.

Bash was a familiar visitor to their house. If Denver’s twin girls were awake, they would rush their Uncle Bash’s legs and demand candy because he always brought them treats. He’d eaten at their table countless times. If he didn’t visit his mom for the holidays, then his ass was parked at Denver and Casey’s holiday table, made to feel like family.

Because they were family.

But as Bash’s jaw ticked, his hands wanted to damage his closest friend’s face.

“What’s up, brother? Not your usual time for visiting.” They didn’t go further than the kitchen, and Denver leaned a hip on the counter.

“I’ve got Charlotte in my room at the club.”

Denver showed his surprise with his eyebrows climbing into his shorn hairline, and a grin emerged. “Holy fuck, Bash, you made it happen, finally? Casey’s gonna bust a gut when she hears this.”

“She won’t be happy once I rearrange your face,” He warned, making Denver laugh.

“Getting it from the little nurse hasn’t chilled you out, then?”

“She rocked up to the club, stoned out of her mind. She had a lot to share with me.” All her private fantasies were Bash’s only; he’d go to his grave without spilling those details to another living soul. But in the mix of those, she’d disclosed something that shed light on her distaste for Denver. She never expressed her dislike for him directly, but her reactions were loud. Tonight, he’d asked her why, and she’d told him about the blackmail.

“Tell me you haven’t been extorting Charlotte. Tell me you didn’t threaten to take her fucking job away from her if she didn’t assist you with stealing shit from the hospital.”

“It seems like you already know the answers.” The bozo dared quip.

Bash reacted and grabbed Denver by the shirt, slamming him back against the sink unit. Nothing but untethered anger in his hands.

“You absolute fuck. It stops now. You don’t approach Charlotte for anything, not even if you’re bleeding out and need a Band-Aid. You got it?”

“If you boys are going to fight, let me kiss my husband goodnight first.” They heard. Unfazed by the sight of Bash holding Denver, Casey entered the room. Next, she positioned herself in their way and lifted onto her tiptoes. Denver, not giving a crap about being grabbed, met her halfway and planted a kiss on her lips. “I’ll be up soon, little bird.”

“Okay. Goodnight, you two. Play nice in my clean kitchen, and don’t dare wake the kids, or you’ll deal with me.” Then she strolled out of the room.

“You are a fucking jackass. You knew what she meant to me,” Bash accused, pushing Denver away.

The realistic part was that if it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have cared how Denver got his medical provisions. But hearing that Denver had used Charlotte, who’d taken care of Denver and Ruin at separate times, boiled his fucking blood.

“You threatened her job.” He grated through his teeth.

Denver, the calmest man on earth, was hard to rattle unless his family’s safety was in question, and then he turned into a powder keg of destruction. With his own life, though? He didn’t look like he gave a shit if Bash turned into his namesake and bashed his fucking brains in. Bash sighed and pulled out a stool, straddling it.

“I needed the supplies. You know I wouldn’t do shit to hurt that girl. Casey would break my balls. She likes Lottie. My last hospital contact quit on me. I had to find a new one.”

“Probably why they quit.”

Denver rubbed his facial hair. “Nah, he got caught screwing a doctor on duty and was fired. The joker thought I would still pay him.”

Bash narrowed his eyes. “Have you been paying Charlotte?”

“She wouldn’t even hear me out about money.”

That rang true, but it didn’t make the situation any better. “She won’t take it, even if I give it to her, so you’re gonna give every cent to a charity she likes. Something to do with cats.”

Denver dared huff a laugh, and Bash fired a glare. “This shit isn’t over, Denver. You scared my fucking woman into thinking she’d be reported if she didn’t help you.”

His eyebrow winged up. “She’s your woman, then? You should thank me. I always put a good word in for you. I probably warmed her up to your ugly face.”

Right then, Bash couldn’t see the funny side. The only reason his friend was still standing was because it was Denver. He would’ve taken down anyone else. He got up, ready to go back to her.

“This shit isn’t right, Chris.” He said, using Denver’s legal name. “And it won’t be right with me until you make it right with Charlotte. If she’s too wary to be around you, then Casey won’t get to be around her.”

A grunt of agreement came from Denver. “Casey’s already given me that warning.”

At the back door, Denver asked. “You finally got her to agree to date you?”

“She’s mine.” That was all he’d say. He’d made her come tonight, but technically, she was still firmly in the won’t date a biker camp.

Bash had no choice but to change her mind.

The mental image of how he’d left Charlotte was stuck in Bash’s brain on the ride through the peaceful streets. Her body was smoking, seriously the most beautiful woman, and her eyes had so innocently watched him like he was her snack. They cut right through him down to the marrow, which made him hungry for something just out of reach. When she’d wriggled on his lap, appearing open to any depraved acts he desired, she’d gazed at him with a submissive offering, and it was nearly his undoing.

He was in deep trouble because he realized he had gone all in as his heart pounded out of his chest.

Back at the clubhouse, he left his bike in its usual parking spot and headed inside. In the late hour, there was only a skeleton crew around, but didn’t hang back to chat. He strolled up the stairs to his locked room. Charlotte was right where he left her. Snuggled under the covers. The rooms at the club were kept basic, and the bed was tiny compared to the one at home, but for once, he couldn’t wait to shuck his clothes and climb into it, knowing she was there waiting for him. Making sure he was quiet, he stripped down to his gray boxer briefs, but it took only one glance at Charlotte curled in his bed, and his cock throbbed. It would be indecent for him to sleep up against her when he was like this. So he headed down the hallway to the shower rooms and closed himself in one stall, setting the water to hot.

Relief was on Bash’s mind, and he needed it now.

With groaning movements, he palmed his jutting cock, and the pleasure of that simple touch zinged down his spine.

It was all Charlotte’s fault he couldn’t control his body. He didn’t get like this. That untouchable goddess and her slurred confessions spun around his mind like a chant.

She breathed, and it got him aroused. She existed, and his dick became an impossibly large spike in need of finding a home inside of her.

Fuck her.

Own her.

The thought of being in bed—touching her, and listening to Charlotte breathing was too much for Bash to deal with.

The boiling water from the strong showerhead fell over him, but Bash didn’t focus on washing his body; he was too deep in his deranged thoughts, picturing Charlotte playing with his shaft. Dreaming of her lips stretching to take him and how she’d have tears streaming down her face when she choked, trying to take him right to the back of her tight throat.

Stroke after hard stroke, he fucked his hand and wished it was her tight cunt he was powering into. He fantasized about the sensation of her wet lips dribbled with his come. The pleasure grew, making Bash grunt and slap the other hand on the shower wall while he locked his knees in place and jerked off.

He’d been given a taste of the sounds she’d make when he fucked her. But now he craved to hear what indecent noises she’d make while he gripped her by that long ponytail and pumped into her impossibly deeper until her pussy hurt. The need to know what she’d look like coated with white bands of his come dripping from her chin, and those kiss-swollen lips plagued Bash’s mind and curled lust like a virus throughout his lower body.

Precum leaked from the head of his cock, warning of the closeness of his climax, and with fast pumps, he grunted her name. His head dropped forward as ropes of his pleasure spilled out onto the floor, drained away by the water.

It took only minutes to dry and pull on a fresh pair of shorts in his room, and then he made the mistake of glancing at Charlotte. The lust returned tenfold like he hadn’t just orgasmed his brains out minutes earlier.

Flipping off the light, he climbed into bed. Charlotte was sprawled on her back, emitting the cutest puffs of air through her nose. Unable to resist, he slid an arm underneath and brought her over to his chest. She immediately angled her leg over his knee and murmured in her sleep, “Ben…”

“I’m here, darling.”

Nothing in his life had felt this good.

And Bash would do anything to keep it.