Bad to the Bone(10)

By: Sam Crescent

“No, Pixie has a problem. A lot of the women who fuck him believe he’s in love with them or some shit. He can’t handle it, and he hates it when a bitch cries. I’m the one who picks up the pieces.”

He held a bottle of beer in his hand, which he offered to her.

“I’m driving, remember?”

“Stacey’s staying the night. Leo and Paul are nowhere near done with her.”

“Great.” She made to stand up, but James placed his hand on her arm.


Cora stared at him before lowering herself back to her seat.


“I wasn’t going to fall in love with Pixie, nor was I going to fuck him.”

“He brought you to the back room. It’s a big deal with him.”

“I didn’t argue with him. He’s the one who invited me back. Not once did he ask me if it was okay to fuck me. I wasn’t going to fuck him, and I had no intention of being with him,” Cora said. “I’m here because Stacey wanted to party, not me.”

“I’m starting to think this is more your scene.”

She turned to him, and he stared right back. “How did you get your scar?”

“Bad fight turned really bad. I more than made up for it.”

Cora pursed her lips, but James didn’t say another word. “Are you the Prez of this club or just an average member?”

“You know the workings of an MC?”

“Not much. I watch television, and I occasionally party. Ask Stacey, she knows way more than I do.”

He chuckled. “I’m the Prez. Pixie’s my brother. They’re all my brothers. I’d die for them.”


“Yes. We’ve all got each other’s backs.”

Cora tilted her head to the side. The scar, to her, didn’t detract from his looks. If anything, the scar only enhanced his attraction. He made her pussy slick by his look alone. James brought the beer to his lips, and she saw his hands were large, and his fingers looked rough.

Licking her lips, she watched as his gaze moved to her lips.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“You’re a very handsome man.”

He looked shocked. “There’s no need to lie,” he said.

She laughed. “You’re wrong, and I’m not lying. To a girl you may come across as ugly as fuck. To me, you don’t.” Cora pressed her palm against his face, stroking her thumb over the scar. It wasn’t even rough anymore. “How old are you?”

“Forty, you?”

“I’m thirty.” She was ten years younger than he was.

He continued to let her touch his cheek, and it took him a couple of minutes before he pushed her hand away.

“You don’t want my touch?”

“You’re right, a lot of women don’t like touching my face anymore.” He still held her hand, and was stroking his thumb across her hand. Pulling her hand from his, she touched his face once again.

“Then those women, who were probably girls, didn’t deserve to touch you.” She went back to stroking his cheek. For a second he pressed his face into her palm before pulling away.

“I’m not a fucking pussy. I don’t need the touch of a woman.”

He protested way too much.

“It’s a shame really,” she said, taking the bottle of beer from him and tipping it to her lips.


“A woman’s touch can be so damn hot if you’re with the right woman.” She handed him back his beer, and stood. “I’ll be back to pick Stacey up in the morning.”

“You’ve just had a drink of beer.”

“Don’t worry, big boy, I can handle myself.” She gave him a wink and walked down to her car. She climbed behind her wheel, smirking. She’d not even taken a drink of beer. Cora had only wanted him to think that she had.

When she finally got home, Cora put her vibrator to use. It was James’s face she imagined above her, and his dick she wanted inside her. Maybe one day she’d get her wish.


James cut into the sausage, stabbing it into his sunny side yolk. Teri had served him and Pixie first. The rest of his brothers had to wait. Stacey sat between Leo and Paul. Cora’s friend had stayed the night, and his two men didn’t want to let her go so easily.

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