Club Princess: Royal Bastards MC Durango, CO

by Nicole James

  With her between us, she tries to maintain her cool, giving him just as much attention as she does me. We chat about bullshit, until the topic suddenly comes around to the GTO.

  “You change your mind about the car? I never got the deposit.” Darko pins her with a look.

  Lola sucks her lips into her mouth, and pops them out. “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have left you hanging.”

  “You still want it?”

  She shocks the shit out of me by shaking her head. “No, I think I’ll have to pass after all. It’s a lot of money for me right now, and….” Her voice trails off to nothing.

  “You sure?” Darko asks, leaning back on his stool, apparently just as shocked as I am.

  Lola nods, then looks at him. “You have other buyers, right?”

  “I told them it was sold. But I’m sure I can put out another ad. Shouldn’t be too much trouble to find another buyer.”

  “I’m sorry about everything.”

  “No problem, Lola. I’m just surprised. You’ve wanted that car for so long.”

  A woman walks up, wrapping her arms around Darko. “Hey, baby.”

  He twists, and grins, letting the topic go. “Hey, my beautiful ol’ lady.”

  She tugs him off the stool. “Come dance with me.”

  After they move away, I bump Lola with my shoulder, drawing her attention from her drink. “What gives? I thought you wanted that car. You got the money back.”

  Her blue eyes meet mine. “I just think I might need to hang on to it.”

  I pull back my chin, knowing exactly what scheme is dancing behind those baby blues. “Don’t even think about it, babe.”

  She doesn’t deny anything, just goes back to swiping her index finger at the condensation dripping down her glass.

  “Lola, look at me.” She blows out a breath, but complies. “If you’re thinking about returning that money to the bank, forget about it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it will not end well. For any of us.”

  “Us?”

  “You think I’m not complicit in all this? You think they didn’t probably pick up me, my bike, and my plates in the security footage?”

  Her mouth falls open. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not me I’m the most worried about. It’s you, sweetheart. That money is in your account. They ever put it all together, you’re implicated, big time.” I can see I’ve scared the crap out of her. “You just need to lay low, understand? Don’t do anything rash. Promise me.” I feel a slap on my back, and turn to see T-Bone.

  “You doin’ all right, Memphis?”

  “I’m great.”

  “You need a room to crash for the night, the one at the end of the hall on the right is empty.”

  “Thanks, brother.”

  “You headin’ out in the morning?”

  I nod. “Suppose so.”

  Lola stiffens beside me.

  “You should come back in September. Deer and Elk season start. We all go hunting,” T-Bone offers.

  “Sure. Maybe.” I can’t keep from searching Lola’s eyes as I reply. She turns back to her drink.

  T-Bone slaps my back again. “You better come find me before you hit the road.”

  “Sure. Will do,” I promise, half-heartedly.

  When he wanders off, I stand, put an elbow on the bar, and press my front to Lola’s side, crowding her. I dip my head to nuzzle her ear. “You stickin’ around?”

  “For a while.” She won’t look at me or give any reaction.

  “Want to show me where that room is?”

  She’s quiet for a minute, then drains her glass and stands. “Sure. Why not?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lola—

  Memphis and I are barely in the room, before he crowds me against the door with his big body, his mouth on my neck, sucking my skin like he’s trying to mark me. What is it with men and the territorial thing? Besides, I thought he didn’t care, and it sure won’t do for my father to see it, unless that’s his plan. At that thought, I shove him back half afraid the damage is done. “What gives?”

  “Baby, don’t play hard to get.” He reaches for me again.

  “Maybe I am hard to get,” I snap back, swatting his hands away.

  “You’re a shit load of trouble, and worth every ounce of it, Lola. Don’t you ever let me or anyone else make you think differently.” He’s clear-eyed and serious when he says those words to me.

  I cock my head, thrown by his change in tactic.

  He lifts his hand to my chin, and strokes his thumb over my lower lip, his eyes on my mouth like I’m some treat he’s salivating over.

  “You’ve got the most kissable mouth, princess.”

  I arc a brow, and taunt him. “That’s not what you’re thinking though, is it?”

  His eyes lock with mine. “No. I’m thinking how fuckable it is, and how I want to sink my dick in its soft wetness, and feel your tongue on me.”

  His words get to me, sending arousal zinging through my body. It seems all I have to do is get within six feet of the man, and my body hums with energy and pent up need until it pushes every other thought from my head except throwing my body against his, and wrapping my arms around him. It makes me want to climb him like a damn tree.

  His look is smoldering, and I’m sure he’s imagining all kinds of things he wants to do with me and to me. And God help me, I want him to do every one of them.

  All he has to do is look at me, and I’m lost. He owns me. Completely. Totally. His.

  We crash together, our mouths eager, desperate, obsessed. He backs me to the bed and we fall, rolling, and fighting for dominance. He gives it to me, and falls to his back. I straddle him, pushing up with my hands and pulling my shirt off, then my bra. I put my hands on his abs and undulate against him, two pairs of jeans in our way, but it still turns me on.

  His hands lift to unfasten mine, and then he rolls me to tug them down my hips, pulling my boots off with them. I kick my feet, helping him.

  He stands and strips, and then we’re both naked, our hot skin pressed together. He rolls again, and I’m on top.

  “Ride me,” he orders, and I push up. His hands on my waist, he lifts me and brings me down on his hard cock, his hips bucking up.

  I ride him, like he wants, slow at first, then faster. His eyes zero in on my breasts.

  “I love to watch your tits bounce, baby doll. So fucking hot.”

  I grin, and lean over him until he can reach one with his mouth, capturing the nipple and sucking deep. I moan, coating his dick in another rush of wetness.

  He feels it, and moves his mouth to the other nipple, latching tight.

  I moan again, loving it.

  His palm cracks against my ass; reminding me I’ve slowed down. “Faster, darlin’.”

  I buck, and his hands tighten around my hips holding me tight against him as he powers up into me with pounding thrusts. After a few minutes, he shifts us; dragging me to the edge of the bed, and positioning me on my knees, my cheek pressed to the bedspread.

  “Stretch your arms out, tits to the mattress.”

  I do as he says, and it arches my back with my ass and pussy thrust up high.

  His hands move up my thighs and over my ass. Then his fingers find my pussy lips. “So wet, so ready for me,” he says, his voice low. He plays with me, circling the opening, teasing me.

  I whimper, need coursing through my taught body. “Please,” I moan.

  One big warm palm moves over my ass and down my spine while the fingers of his other hand dip inside me, then withdraw.

  “I want to play,” he replies. “And you’re going to be a good girl and let me for as long as I please, right?”

  I nod my head, thrusting back against his hand.

  “You’ve got my dick good and hard, Lola.”

  I turn my head, and see him holding his throbbing shaft, pre-cum dripping from the slit.

  “You want this, ba
by?”

  I nod again. “Please.”

  He swirls the head around my entrance, spreading my wetness all over, and making circles around my clit until I’m ready to scream with need.

  “Please, Memphis. Give it to me.”

  He plunges inside me, and I gasp. At this angle, he finds my g-spot with the head of his dick, stroking over it with every thrust. He takes his agonizing time, drawing in and out slowly, building the pressure inside me until all I can think about is getting relief. I want to come so badly.

  Like he can read my mind, he growls, “Tell me what you want.”

  “To come. I want to come.”

  “What’s the magic word?”

  I smile. “Please, baby.”

  His fingers find my clit, and he amps up his thrusts pushing deep and hard. One forearm locks around my hips, pinning me still as he strokes my clit faster and faster, all the while that magic dick of his drives into my g-spot until I scream, my orgasm hitting hard and fast.

  Once I come, long and hard, coating his dick, he glides me through it until I float back to reality. He grabs my hips in his hands and pounds into me until he, too, explodes in ecstasy, shouting my name.

  After a long minute, his arm locks around my waist, and he drags my limp body up the bed to collapse in exhaustion. Once our breathing settles, Memphis tucks me to his side, and I cuddle up against him, my head on his chest.

  He strokes my back.

  I press a kiss to his skin. “That was amazing.”

  “Fucking phenomenal,” he replies, smacking my ass.

  I trace his tattoos with the tip of my finger. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Tell me how you ended up in the group home they put you in.”

  He covers my hand with his, stilling my motions. “Why?”

  “Please. I want to know. I told you about my mother, didn’t I?”

  “You did. All right, if you really want to know. I was put in it after a series of foster homes. My twin sister and I were split up, and I was sent to the group home.”

  He’s quiet so long I lift my head to look at him. He’s staring at the ceiling, but I can tell he’s a million miles away.

  “There was a whiteboard on the kitchen wall that contained house rules. When I was there a half dozen boys came and went. We had shared bedrooms, some with bunks, some not. We each had one drawer for our things, what little we each had. I remember there was a lock on the pantry door so we wouldn’t steal food.”

  “Did you get enough to eat?”

  “Not by a long shot.”

  “I remember one night a new kid came. He was only seven. I lay awake that night listening to him cry in the dark, knowing there was nothing I could do to make it better for him, except maybe protect him.”

  “From who?”

  “When I was there I was ten years old. There were two kids around twelve or thirteen. They used to bully the shit outta me. There was an older kid about seventeen, named Corey. When he was around, he’d look out for me, but he stayed gone as much as he could.

  “I remember the night that little boy came, when I couldn’t take the sound of his crying anymore I snuck outside. I saw the flame of a match as someone lit a cigarette behind the garage. I could smell the tobacco, and I knew Corey had snuck out again to smoke behind the garage.

  “I walked over to him. He told me he’d be leaving soon. Being ten, I didn’t understand. He said he was aging out of the system. He’d been in it since he was my age.

  “That was the first time I realized I might be stuck there forever. He shared a smoke with me. Told me he’d come by the school and check on me a time or two after he left.”

  “Did he?”

  “He did, actually. Beat the shit outta the other two boys for me, too. The last time I saw him I was fifteen. It was just before I split.”

  “Split?”

  “I ran away. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I lived on the streets mostly, stealing food to eat, hitchhiking, even started riding the rails in empty boxcars. Until one night in Kansas City, I met a Royal Bastard. I think he knew I was half starved. He brought me to his clubhouse, gave me a cot, and put me to work cleaning the place and washing bikes. The brothers treated me well, better than they did the prospects. The prospects didn’t mind me being around either; it took some of the work off their shoulders.”

  “How’d you get your name?”

  “Guy who took me in gave it to me. Said I had a crooked grin like Elvis.” He shrugs. “Stupid, I know.”

  “I thought maybe you were born in Memphis.”

  “Nope.”

  “So, Kansas City, that’s where you patched in?”

  “Yeah, but that Chapter’s not there anymore. They didn’t have enough members who weren’t in jail to keep it active. When the Chapter dissolved, I went Nomad.”

  “Have you ever gone back?”

  “Nah. The MC sold off the property. The new owners tore it down and built a parking garage.”

  “And your sister, you never saw her again?”

  “I tracked her down eventually. A good family adopted her. She’s married now and has a baby.”

  “Do you know why your mother gave you up?”

  “Nope. I barely remember her. I remember she’d dressed us in our best outfit, and I remember riding on the bus with her somewhere. That’s all I remember. We were only three at the time.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  By the time he’s done with his story, I’m sad and depressed, and sorry I made him go through it all again. I lay my head on his shoulder, and wrap my arms around him. “You made it through it all. I’m so glad that you did.”

  “Yeah. Found the club and the brotherhood I was missing. Not all those kids made it. I heard on the street the year I ran away that Corey killed himself.”

  “So the Royal Bastards saved you,” I say quietly.

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “Do you know how special you are? You could be so much more.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You naturally take charge, like you did with that car wreck. And you’d be a good father, too. The way you were with that kid that was being bullied…”

  He rolls on top of me and kisses me, shutting me up. When he finally breaks the kiss to lift his head, he brushes the hair back from my face, and studies my eyes.

  “I’m gonna miss you, Lola.”

  “You ever think about staying in one place?”

  “Nope.”

  His stark answer tears my heart out, and I can’t stop the emotion that wells up inside me. I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

  “But if I ever did, it’d be someplace like this.” He thumbs the wetness from my face. “No promises, remember?”

  I nod my head, my throat too tight to speak.

  “Don’t be sad, baby.”

  I shake my head, but can’t stop the tears.

  He rolls me, and adjusts us until he’s spooning my back, his arm tight around my waist, and his mouth at my ear.

  “Sleep, baby. I’m right here with you.”

  For now. The unspoken words hang between us. I realize I’ve already become used to him holding me like this at night.

  And oh, how I’ll miss it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Memphis—

  The lightening sky creeps in around the window blinds, and I crack my eye open. I stretch, and grab my phone, checking the time. 7am.

  The party lasted until at least 3am, when I finally remember hearing the music fade off. I doubt I’ll find a single brother awake, and know it’s probably the best time for me to leave.

  I put my elbow in the pillow, and study Lola’s sleeping form. She’s on her stomach, facing the other way, the sheet down around her ass. I long to run my palm over the soft skin of her back, but I don’t want to wake her.

  I’ve never known a woman with such soft skin, and unmarred by
any ink, not even a heart or butterfly. I grin. I’d love to see some ink on her somewhere, something private and just for my eyes. Maybe next time I return I can talk her into some. And there will be a next time; I guarantee it.

  I stand and slip my jeans on, then pull my shirt on, and shrug into my vest. I look down at Lola again, and slip the necklace I always wear over my head, and lay it on the pillow next to her. It’s a round medallion, its face a compass. I hope she takes it as a sign that I’ll be back again some day to collect it.

  I grab my boots, and quietly exit the room.

  I’m not half way down the hall, when I smell coffee brewing. I let the aroma lead me to the kitchen.

  Darko’s at the coffee maker, the carafe in hand, filling a mug.

  I plop down in a chair, and pull on my boots.

  He looks over his shoulder, and holds up his mug. “Want one?”

  “Please.”

  He pours me one, and joins me at the table.

  “You leavin’?”

  “Yep.” I take a big gulp.

  “Pretty early start, huh?”

  “Best time for riding. Less traffic. I should be able to put a bunch of miles behind me before it gets busy.”

  “Something else you puttin’ behind you?” he asks, pinning me with a serious look.

  I lift the mug to my lips. “She knew the score. She said she was good with it. No strings. No promises.”

  “What a woman says, and what she feels are two different things, son.”

  “Lola’s not like that.”

  “Don’t kid yourself.”

  I take a sip of coffee, and stare into the dark liquid. “You know I’ve got nothing to give her.”

  “I don’t know that. Doubt she knows that either.”

  I meet his gaze. “I’m a Nomad, Darko.”

  “So?”

  “I like bein’ free. I like not bein’ tied down.”

  “It’s a shiftless existence. Not belonging any one place.”

  “I’m a Royal Bastard, same as you. I belong as much as you do.”

  He nods. “True. But Lola’s a special girl. You won’t find many like her, no matter how many miles you put behind you.”

  “I know she’s special. She’s also Rock’s daughter.”