Chapter Four

Knox

A s they opened the door to the bar, Knox slapped Amara’s ass. He couldn’t help himself. It was so round that it begged for a handprint. A red outline of five fingers and one palm. His palm . He wanted her to look in the mirror tonight and see it, just to remember who that ass belonged to.

Her squeal was drowned out by the sounds of the music playing, and if it weren’t for the human customers, he’d grab her arm, whip her around, and pin her to the damn wall. Hike her knee up over his hip. Slide her panties aside. Shove inside. It’d take seconds.

But so far, she had said no, and though he’d been told by everyone he’d ever encountered that he was a madman, he wasn’t about to take a woman against her will. Especially his mate.

No, he’d have her begging for it first. The sweet sounds of her pleas before he roughly took her was something he was looking forward to. Clothes ripped off her body. Fingers digging into her thick hips. A nip to her tits so he could taste her blood.

The whimpers she’d make . . .

And it would happen. It was only a matter of time.

Knox took his eyes off her ass and looked around the bar. It was semi-full, though it was still too early in the evening to reach full capacity like they normally did on a warm night. The bikers would show up soon, and they’d always bring the party. He particularly liked them most and all the sadistic stories he’d coax out of them about what they had to do just to join their gang. A few shots on the house and they’d spill their guts like a blade from the sternum to the pubic bone. He’d know. He’d gutted enough people in his lifetime. He liked the way the blood spilled out, was fascinated by how the skin split.

The bikers’ stories were never as good as his memories, but they were a quick fix.

Even amongst the people, Knox could easily smell her, and ever since he got his first whiff of her, he’d been hard as a rock. His cock had been straining against the waistband of his jeans all damn day. No amount of fucking his hand last night had sated him.

In a way, Amara should thank him because it was taking all of his self-control to not bend her over the barstool they were passing and make good on his promise to fuck her in front of everyone.

But, instead of giving in to his urges, he wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her farther inside, gripping her hard so that she didn’t wander off in another direction.

He spotted Drake at a booth – their booth that had little light and a view of the entire place – and steered them in that direction. Usually, Drake had a chick on his lap by now, but instead, he was alone and sipping from a bottle of beer. When he caught sight of them, his eyes darkened, and he scowled at Amara.

“Look who we found,” Zeke announced as all three of them slid into the booth. Knox and Zeke had Amara sandwiched between them, and though she looked mildly uncomfortable with the hostile look Drake was giving her, she didn’t protest their closeness.

Drake turned his expression to Zeke. “What happened to staying away from her?”

He talked like she wasn’t even here, and that made Knox’s blood boil. In a split second, his good mood turned into barely contained rage.

“That was your rule, not mine,” Knox growled as he leaned over and nipped at Amara’s ear.

“If my being here is a problem, I can always go,” Amara said, eyes darting around the bar nervously. She wasn’t their usual customer. She was not dressed for this kind of place in her frilly sundress, making her stand out like a rabbit among wolves.

Little bunny, indeed.

“The fuck you are,” Knox replied possessively in her ear. Like hell was she leaving now that they’d convinced her to come with them.

She shivered as his breath caressed her ear, making a grin spread across his face.

Drake shook his head in obvious disgust. He didn't say a word as he grabbed his drink and climbed out of the booth. The three of them watched as he moved to an empty table across the room.

“He . . . he really doesn’t like me, does he?” Amara asked quietly .

“It’s not you that he hates,” Zeke answered. “He doesn’t like the idea of you.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Knox added. “The longer that he’s a rogue, the more bitchy he gets. You get used to it.”

“This isn’t going to work unless he accepts it though,” she pointed out. Knox didn’t like the disappointment in her tone.

Zeke bumped his shoulder with hers. “He’s someone you have to give some time to. His past . . . He’ll come around. He always does.”

He wasn’t wrong. They all had a past, each one different from the other. Drake may have his reasons, but that still didn’t make him any less of an ass in the situation they found themselves in. If Knox hadn’t seen Drake as a brother, he would have reached across the table and dug one of his eyes out for looking at Amara the way he had.

“So, um,” Amara began, changing the subject. “How long have you guys been rogue? Were you born that way?”

Knox stiffened a little. He didn’t like talking about his past, but for the sake of making her more comfortable, he grunted out, “Born that way.”

She looked over at him, and her face softened as she gently touched his leg. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Knox. I was just curious. Like I said, I have no issues with rogue shifters.”

His jaw flexed, but he knew she meant well. “I was raised rogue by my father.”

A tendril of hair fell from behind her ear as she shook her head. “You don’t have to say anything else if it makes you uncomfortable. I was just trying to make conversation. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not great at this kind of thing. ”

He shifted in his seat a little. “There’s nothing more to say on the matter. Born rogue, raised rogue, still rogue. What about you, Zeke? Tell your story.”

Zeke studied him for a moment, knowing Knox was deflecting, before he cleared his throat. They both knew there was a lot more to that story, but Knox never liked to talk about it. Everyone called him the crazy one, and though it was true, he was made that way.

“I was part of a pack but decided to leave when my best friend left.”

“Oh yeah?” Amara said, shifting a little more in his direction. She started to lift her hand from Knox’s thigh, but a quick tug on her wrist kept her hand there. “Where’s your best friend now?”

Both Knox and Zeke looked across the room at Drake.

Amara followed their line of sight and let out a slow breath. “Oh. I see. What’s his story then?”

Zeke smiled a little at her. “That’s not ours to tell.”

“Right.” She wet her bottom lip. “Well, how did you all meet then? Am I at least allowed to know that much?”

“We bought the bar when it went up for sale,” Zeke supplied. “We hired Knox as security when we found him rooting around town, looking for trouble. We figured we might as well give him something to do before he drew attention to us.”

Knox snorted. He remembered that day. Barely. Bits and pieces. He was just passing through the town and had been particularly high and completely wasted when he went looking for a fight. At random, he chose this bar.

He had one goal when he walked in: to spill blood just for the hell of it. It had been days since he’d seen that beautiful shade of red. He had craved it.

Twenty minutes in, Zeke and Drake had to pull him off a guy before Knox killed him, recognized him as one of their own, and gave him a new purpose. Being security for the bar gave him an excuse to hit someone occasionally.

Zeke continued, “We ended up getting along, and, well . . . here we are.”

Amara looked at Knox and smiled. “So you’ve always been trouble. I thought it was just with me.”

“Spread your legs, and I’ll show you just how much trouble I can be,” Knox said, his voice dangerously low and full of promises he intended to keep. He was deflecting again. He knew it, and by her expression, she knew it too.

Amara pressed her lips together but didn’t say anything else on the matter. “So, uh, about that drink?”

“Right,” Zeke said. He lifted a hand and caught the eye of the bartender, Drew, then held up three fingers. It didn’t take Drew long before he had brought over their three beers. He sat them down on the table, eyeing Amara tucked under Knox’s shoulder. Knox pinned him with a glare until he scurried away.

The next guy who looked at her that way was going to have their balls shoved down their throat.

Picking up her beer, Amara took several large gulps before setting it down again. “You know, that whole seat is now open. We don’t all have to cram into one side.”

“If we move, you’ll run,” Knox pointed out. “Not that I wouldn’t mind the chase, but I don’t think you’d like what would happen if I caught you. You’ve made it clear that fucking in public is not on your list of things you want to do.”

She laughed nervously. “Like you’d even listen to me if that’s really what you wanted.”

“Then it’s simple,” Knox said. He leaned closer to her with a taunting grin. “Don’t run. ”

“Knox . . .” Zeke warned.

Knox flicked his gaze to Zeke. He hated being ‘handled’ by Zeke, who always took it upon himself to do so. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t fuck her if you had the chance?”

Zeke’s jaw rippled as he ground his teeth together, but he didn’t deny it.

“That’s what I thought.” He slid a hand up her bare thigh. “See how she trembles? She wants it just as much as we do.”

“Stop assuming you know what I want,” she snapped.

He grinned wickedly again, loving her fire. “Then stop getting wetter by the second.”

“Then stop touching me!”

“Not a chance.” He tipped her chin up and nipped at her jaw as he slid his other hand up further, skimming her underwear. “Because I know, sooner or later, I’ll get to taste you, and the thought is driving me to the edge. Do you want to know what happens when I get to the edge, little bunny?”

Amara turned her attention to Zeke as if asking him for help, but Zeke’s eyes were zoned in on Knox’s hand while he clutched his bottle tightly.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Amara hissed. “You want to touch me too, Zeke? May as well! Knox seems to think he has full access!”

Knox ignored her sarcasm. “Go ahead, Zeke. Touch her. You heard her; you have her permission now.”

When Zeke made no move, Knox grabbed his hand from the bottle and guided it to her pussy. Knox shoved her panties to one side, giving them better access, and moaned at how wet she was for them.

Zeke leaned a little bit, and Amara gasped as his finger slipped inside her. Knox’s cock twitched painfully. He fucking loved that sound and wanted to make it happen again. He pressed a finger to her clit, just to see what other kind of sounds she made.

Amara bit down on her bottom lip to muffle her moan, and her eyes darted around the room, probably checking to see if anyone was watching what they were up to. Knox followed her gaze for a moment, and his eyes landed on Drake, who was glaring openly at them. Drake knew exactly what they were doing and could probably smell all three of their arousals from where he sat.

Turning his attention back to his mate, Knox started to circle her clit while Zeke slowly pumped his finger inside her. As a reward, she arched a little.

Knox couldn’t help it. He looked back at Drake tauntingly and witnessed his eyes narrowing further.

Chuckling a little, Knox gave his full focus back to Amara. He knew that Drake wouldn’t be able to resist her for much longer. It was just a matter of how long he could hold out.

“P-people can see,” Amara gasped out. Her breathing was uneven and quick, and Knox loved the way her tits bounced because of it. “And Drake is pissed.”

“I know,” Knox murmured. “Let’s see how pissed he gets when we make you cum.”

He worked his fingers faster as Zeke leaned over and kissed her neck, muttering sweet fucking nothings in Spanish against her skin.

Amara’s fingers dug into his and Zeke’s thighs as her eyes fluttered closed.

Scenting her arousal was one thing, but to actually see her tremble from it? My god, it was more alluring than screams of agony.

“Are you going to cum on Zeke’s fingers, little bunny?”

Zeke groaned. “Fuck. She clenched. ”

“That’s it,” Knox cooed. “Let’s see if we can make her do it again.”

Zeke added a second finger, and Amara moaned. She was coming undone, and he fucking lived for it.

Curious, he peeked a glance at Drake, who was stiff as a board, but Knox could see the desire in his eyes. No doubt, he could smell what they were doing to her, and no doubt, he could hear what they were saying to her. The man had the restraint of the pope.

“Jesus,” Amara breathed, trying to catch her breath.

“That’s not the name we agreed you’d say,” Knox taunted.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. Sweat was beading at her temple. “You also said you’d make me scream.”

“Let me bury myself between your legs, and then we’ll see.” He started to whisper everything he had planned to do to her in her ear, and her body started to tremble.

Zeke pumped harder and faster, knowing as much as Knox did that she was close. “That’s right, Princesa. Cum for us.”

Her back bowed, and Knox slapped a hand over her mouth just as she fell over the edge, stifling her loud moan. He continued to work her clit as she twitched, helping her ride it out until it became too much sensation.

Zeke and Knox met each other’s gaze over Amara’s head, a silent communication. Giving a nod, Zeke slid out of the booth and tugged Amara up with him. Knox followed them as Zeke quickly pulled her along to a staircase that led to their second-floor apartment.

“Where are we going?” Amara squeaked.

“Have you ever ridden two cocks at once, Amara?” Zeke asked. His accent was thick.

Knox grinned at the thought as they quickly climbed the stairs. Before they reached the top, he looked back over his shoulder at Drake and winked at him. He was still clutching his bottle tightly.

When Knox turned back around, he heard the beer bottle shatter. His grin only widened.