UnTouch Me (Savage Beast MC Book 5) Read online

  Flicking my gaze to hers, she’s watching me, wearing an unreadable expression on her face until she shakes her head and it disappears. Without a word, she slips from the bed and I watch her sweet ass sway as she makes her way to the bathroom to clean up.

  For the first time ever, I tell her to stay with me for the rest of the night, deciding to keep her on edge, only allowing her to come when I want her to, and enjoying every goddamn minute far too fucking much.

  FOUR MONTHS LATER

  TRISTA

  My father watches me. I snort. Father. What a joke. Turning my back to him, I lift my gaze to my uncle Silver’s. He looks sad as he watches me.

  “You sure you wanna move to the land of freaks and weirdos?” he asks on a grunt.

  My lips twitch and I shrug a shoulder. “I need a change,” I admit.

  There’s a moment of silence, then he dips his chin, his eyes focused on mine. “You runnin’ from Taz?” he asks.

  Pressing my lips together, I pretend to think about his question. I don’t have to though. I am running from Taz, but not because I’m trying to hide my feelings for him. If he asked me to be his Old Lady, if he wanted me branded, I’d lie down and welcome the scent of my burning flesh for him.

  “I’m running from it all, Silver. I’m tired,” I admit. “I just need time away from everyone.”

  “Don’t forget your family while you’re away, yeah?”

  Shaking my head, I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek to his chest. Silver is the only father I’ve ever known. He’s the man who raised me, who kissed my scraped knees, who came to every father-daughter anything at school.

  He is the man that I wish would have been my birth father, except not really because my mother would have ruined him, too. I’d never wish my mother on any decent man.

  “I’ll never forget, not ever,” I whisper.

  His arms envelop me, pulling me in close. “Give your dad a little slack, yeah?” he murmurs.

  I roll my eyes, though I know he can’t see me. My dad can kick rocks. I thought the asshole was dead all these years anyway. When he showed back up here, alive and healthy, I felt that weight of abandonment slam into me and it hasn’t left since. Taking a step back, I give him a small smile.

  “I’ll try,” I lie.

  “Pain in the ass.” Silver chuckles.

  Lifting a shoulder, I can’t help but smirk. “You know it.”

  Without another word to him, I walk over to the driver’s side of my car and sink down to my haunches. Buster refuses to look up and I know he’s pissed with me. I don’t blame him.

  I feel like I’m abandoning my own child. I was almost eleven when he was born. I’ve been his babysitter, his big sister, and his mother figure since the day he was born.

  Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around his shoulder and give him a small squeeze. “You know I’m just a phone call away, right?” I ask on a whisper.

  His angry eyes lift to mine and he jerks his chin. Sliding my hand from his shoulder, I wrap my fingers around the side of his little neck.

  “I love you, Buster,” I whisper. “I love you, but I need to be on my own for a little.”

  “Savannah was mean, I heard things. Did she ever hurt you?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

  I don’t know where he’s going with this thought process, but I decide to tell him the truth. Buster is a lot older than his age in years, he’s seen a ton of shit. I see a lot of myself in him, and I know without a doubt, I would want that question answered truthfully.

  “Yeah, she did,” I whisper.

  He nods once. “Don’t be gone for too long. Presley’s gonna have a baby and I want to show you what an awesome big brother I’m gonna be.”

  Dropping my forehead to his, I inhale a deep breath. “You’re going to be the best big brother on this earth, Buster, because you’re the best kid I know,” I whisper.

  “Don’t be gone too long, Trista,” he repeats.

  Swallowing my tears, I stand before pulling him in for a hug. We embrace for a couple of moments, then I take a step back and watch him run off, no doubt to cry since I’m already fighting back tears myself.

  Lifting my head, I look over the top of my car and my gaze collides with Taz’s. My breath hitches as I take in his angry glare. I hold my breath for a moment, waiting for him to say something, anything.

  If he told me to stay, if he hinted that he wanted me to. I would. For him, I would do just about anything he asked.

  Instead of speaking, instead of begging me not to leave, he turns his back to me and marches off, no doubt to sink his dick inside of some whore. My already broken heart rips in two. I fell head-over-heels in love with him and he’s done nothing but shit on me at every possible opportunity.

  Taz is just as his name suggests. He’s a whirlwind of emotions, he’s quick to anger and lashes out without an ounce of remorse for those that he hurts. Leaving here is the smartest thing that I can do, at least for my own sanity.

  Slipping into the front seat of my car, I shift my gaze over to my father and watch as he dips his chin. He’s been trying, I’ll give him that much, but everything is just too raw right now. Maybe in a few months, I’ll be able to talk to him, be able to start on a path of forgiveness, but not right now.

  Starting the engine, I lift my hand and give him a small wave. His lips twitch before he jerks his chin. Shifting the car into drive, I lift my foot off of the brake and move it to the gas pedal.

  With one long inhale, I let out the exhale slowly before I drive away from the only home that I’ve ever known, never to look back.

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  TAZ

  The townie bounces on my cock. She’s blonde like Trista, but that’s where their similarities end. She pouts her lips as she looks down at me, arching her back in an attempt to show me all she has to offer. It’s not all that great, but I’m horny as fuck.

  Wrapping my hands around her waist, I lift her up, then yank her down, using her body to jack my dick. Licking my lips, I close my eyes and picture the bitch that I crave instead of the one I have.

  Trista’s lips turn up into a small smile, her small tits bouncing. She doesn’t appear innocent, but I know that in a lot of ways, she is just that.

  “I love you, Taz,” Trista’s voice whispers.

  I slam the bitch down and let out a roar as I fill the condom with my cum. Opening my eyes, my head jerks at the sight that greets me. It’s not Trista, I don’t even know this bitch’s name. Tugging her off of me, I unceremoniously drop her to the side and climb out of bed.

  Walking into her bathroom, I tug the condom off and toss it in the trash before I wash my hands. Turning back into the bedroom, I notice that she’s demurely lying on the bed, her big eyes watching my every move.

  Finding my jeans, I pull them up my legs and quickly fasten them before I tug on my socks and boots, then reach for my shirt.

  “Are you coming back to bed?” she asks.

  Arching a brow, I shake my head. “Sorry, babe. I don’t do sleepovers. Thanks for the pussy though.”

  Turning my back to her, I grab my cut and slip it on before I reach for my pack of smokes. Taking a cigarette out, I slip it between my lips as she lets out a gasp.

  “You asshole,” she shouts.

  I let out a snort. “Bitch, I don’t even know your name and you spread for me. Maybe you shouldn’t open your legs so easily for someone you don’t fuckin’ know.”

  Without another word, I turn my back to her, and I walk away. She doesn’t follow, thankfully. Once I’m outside, I climb on my bike and start the engine. I leave the house, my mind consumed with thoughts of Trista, the bitch I was inside of moments ago, nothing but a faded memory.

  She’s been gone for months and her memory hasn’t faded even a little bit. She’s all I can think about. The look on her face when she told me she loved me and I laughed and said she was nothing but a good fuck, I’ll never forget.

  I broke something
inside of her and I’ve hated myself every minute of every day since. I’m also too fucking proud to admit that shit.

  The clubhouse comes into view and I’m not surprised to see Hawk leaning against the front of the building. Parking my bike, I kick the stand down and climb off, tossing my cigarette to the gravel ground before I grind my heel into the smoking embers.

  “Brother,” I grunt.

  “You done fuckin’ with my girl?” he asks straight.

  Smirking, I shake my head. “Ain’t seen her in fuckin’ months, brother,” I point out.

  “Didn’t take you for a pussy, boy.”

  My hackles rise at his words. “Wanna repeat that? And if you seriously call me boy again, I’ll beat your ass, old man. You’re not in the best standing at this club, plus, I’m only eleven years younger than you, so I would advise you not to piss me the fuck off,” I grind out.

  Hawk shrugs a shoulder as if he could give a fuck what I say or promise him. “My girl’s all the way in LA. I don’t like it. I know she left because of you. Fix that shit and bring her home. I’d like to get to know her before I fuckin’ die.”

  “You dyin’?” I ask.

  “We’re all dyin’, brother.”

  Shaking my head, I let out a growl. “What do you want me to do when I bring her back, that’s if she would even come with me?” I ask.

  “Brand her, claim her.”

  “Me?” I ask, arching a brow in surprise.

  Hawk cocks his head to the side, his gaze roaming over me as if he’s trying to read me. “You’d treat her right. See that you miss her. Know you want her back as badly as I do, maybe even more so. She’d be branded by a brother and I can’t deny that I’d like her back in the club, in a permanent way.”

  “You’re crazy,” I grumble.

  But he’s not too far off base. I want all that shit, bad. If there was a bitch I’d brand, it would be Trista without a goddamn doubt. We won’t work, though. I’m too stubborn, too quick to anger and lash out. I’m not the kind of man who brands a woman. I’ve already made her cry more than she ever deserved.

  Dragon appears before I can respond, his gaze flicks to Hawk as he lifts his hand. “Need to talk to you,” he barks.

  Hawk jerks his chin toward Dragon, then shifts his gaze to me. “This club heats up with the bullshit in Columbia, I’ll have her claimed for her own protection. I’m giving you the chance to lay that claim.”

  “Yeah? Who the fuck you gonna let claim her?” I growl.

  Hawk smirks, obviously thinking that he has me by the balls. “Mountain’s single. So are a bunch of the guys over at the Skulls. They’re being patched over, may not be a bad deal to make.”

  I move, closing the distance between us, moving faster than I ever have in my life. Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around the front of his throat and lean in, my nose almost touching his.

  “Trista is not a piece to trade. She’s a goddamn club princess. You’re not trading her around like some whore,” I growl.

  Hawk rears back and punches the side of my head. He uses more force than I expect and my vision blackens as I release his throat and stumble sideways. He leans forward, his face turning red and his body shaking.

  “I’ll do what I have to, to keep my daughter safe. Should have done that shit twenty-one years ago. I’m a little fucking late, but I’m not too late and I won’t have her vulnerable to any fucking enemies.”

  He doesn’t say anything else, instead, he turns his back on me. I watch him walk into the clubhouse as if he didn’t just threaten to hand Trista to the highest bidder. I clench my fists at my side, knowing that he’s doing the right thing and hating him for it at the same time.

  If shit goes down, if we can’t get a handle on the Columbians, and she becomes a target. It means that she’ll be a target as a daughter of the club. Having an Old Man at her back will afford her a safety that being just a daughter can’t, no matter how much she’s adored by the entire club.

  But I’ll be damned if I watch her be branded by any other man’s iron, even if I don’t necessarily want my own on her, I can’t watch another man claim her either.

  FIVE MONTHS LATER

  TRISTA

  Avah watches me from a small bench. She tilts her head to the side, her lips pressed together. I met Avah when I moved to Los Angeles. My first job here was at a medical spa as a receptionist and she came in weekly for appointments. We became fast friends and when she needed a roommate, she asked me if I’d like to move in with her.

  I’ve been living with her for the past four months and it’s been amazing. Though, when I discovered what she did to pay the rent for her million-dollar condo, I was shocked at first, then intrigued.

  “I think you could show more boob,” she states.

  Avah is gorgeous. She has long dark glossy hair, her lips are filled, but the only way I know is because I made the appointment, they look natural. In fact, all of her looks natural and she’s confessed that the only thing on her that she was born with is her dark green eye color, everything else has been altered in some way.

  “You don’t think this is enough?” I ask, arching a brow.

  The dress I’m wearing has a low scoop and shows more boob than I’ve ever flashed in public in my life. I’m a tank and cut-off shorts kind of girl, always have been.

  Growing up in a small town in hot ass Arizona, and around bikers, I didn’t really have a chance to dress up or feel comfortable showing off too much skin. I especially didn’t show off my boobs since I used to be rocking an extremely small B-cup.

  “The amount of boob to show is never enough.” She laughs.

  “I’m not sure…”

  I watch as she stands and turns away from me. A few moments later she reappears with a deep V-neck dress. My eyes widen at the scrap of fabric. Avah lets out a chuckle.

  “You spent the money on them, show them off,” she sings.

  She’s right. I went to her doctor. I had my boobs done. They’re a full double-D now. I’m almost finished making payments on them. I probably should be embarrassed by that fact, but I’m not, at all. I love them. I have a new confidence that I didn’t even know I was missing.

  “I don’t know if I can go through with this whole thing,” I admit.

  Avah takes a step toward me, standing right in front of me. Her hand wraps around mine and her deep green eyes find my own.

  “It’s a double date. We’ll have some fun. You aren’t required to be anything but his escort to this party. He knows that. If you want to do more, you’ll get some more money, if you don’t, you get the fee discussed. He knows the rules.”

  Biting the corner of my lip, I wonder why I’m so nervous about this. I’ve been raised in this life. All of the clubwhores were at the club to provide a service, and in turn, had their room and board paid for, this is no different.

  “Okay,” I whisper with a shaky sigh.

  Her lips turn up and she shoves the little dress in my stomach. “Go try that on. If you don’t do anything with him, he deserves to at least have a little something to look at.” She winks.

  Shaking my head, I turn my back to her and go into the dressing room. I try on the sexy dress and I walk out of the shop with it. Though it shows far too much boob, I figure she’s right. I paid for them, why hide them?

  I’ve only lived here a few months, but I look like a total LA girl now. I should despise that about myself, I’m sure I would if I thought about it. But I’m here, this is who I am now. I’m not Trista, living in Eagar, Arizona anymore.

  I’m no longer the daughter to Savannah the traitor. I’m no longer the girl desperate for love and attention from a man who couldn’t be bothered to open up even a little bit to her. A man who couldn’t even act like I existed unless I was fucking him. A man who laughed in my face when I told him that I loved him.

  I can’t be her anymore. I refuse. Even if it means that this new me is outwardly fake from head to toe and she goes out on dates as an escort. Fine. Fuck it.
That’s who I’ll be, at least I know that none of these men will ever hurt me the way that Taz did, I wouldn’t allow it anyway.

  Chapter One

  TRISTA

  Smoothing my hands down my dress, I look over my shoulder to Avah. She shoots me a smile from the top of her champagne glass. My date slides his hand dangerously low around my hip, though he doesn’t speak to me, they never do at these things.

  We’re at some art gallery fundraiser, though I’m not sure what they’re raising funds for, someone probably stubbed a toe or something. It seems like there is some kind of fundraiser every single weekend. I’ve stopped asking what they’re for at this point.

  “So, Tristiana, what do you do for a living?” a man asks me.

  He’s shorter, bald, and looks almost sweet. He’s standing next to his wife, who seems to be more occupied by keeping my date’s attention on herself rather than her own husband’s. I don’t mind, I don’t know my date, so he can do and talk to whoever he wishes.

  “I actually work for one of those medical spas,” I lie.

  I used to work for one, I quit a couple months ago. One night as an escort makes two months of wages at that job, it was a no-brainer. I only have to work a couple days a month to pay all of my bills without struggling or stressing over budgets. If I want extras, I can work extra nights. There are always men looking for a date to an event.

  “Lovely, those are very popular these days,” he says as he smiles kindly.

  Sipping on my champagne, I nod before I turn my lips up into a kind smile and swallow my drink. Cameron, my date, excuses us and makes an excuse that he’d like to look at the artwork to see which pieces he’d like to bid on.