Savage Kings MC Box Set 2

by Lane Hart

  “Fine,” he huffs before he stands up with his girl in his arms and then sits her back down in the seat. “Let me talk to him, and then we can get out of here.”

  “Good,” she replies with a smile before I grab Dalton by his elbow and usher him away.

  “Can you make this fast?” he asks as I punch in the security code and then lead the way to the stairs.

  “Sure,” I agree, stopping halfway down the steps to turn and talk to him. As soon as the door shuts, I blurt out, “When was the last time you saw Cynthia?”

  “Cynthia?” he repeats. “I haven’t laid a hand on her since I met Peyton, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “I didn’t ask when you last touched her,” I reply through clenched teeth. I hate thinking about him with the beautiful redhead, using her body and then pushing her aside like she’s nothing more than a blow-up doll. “I asked when you last saw her.”

  He exhales loudly and then shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. A few days? Maybe weeks? I don’t really write down the dates in my diary when I run into a woman I’ve fucked before.”

  “Right, because that would be every day,” I huff. “But just think about it for a goddamn second. Did you see her at Knox’s fight?”

  Another shrug. “Maybe,” he answers. “Yeah, yeah, actually I did. Now I remember! She came up to our table at the bar when Peyton and I got back that night. I cringed because I thought she may say some shit about me and her screwing…”

  “What did she say?” I snap to get him to focus.

  “Oh, nothing much really,” Dalton says. “She told us she was happy for us and then added something about us looking perfect for each other before she walked away. No biggie.”

  “She wasn’t upset?” I ask in concern.

  “No, definitely not. She seemed happy, and not that fake acting way like some of these girls do when they’re really being bitchy but covering it up with a smile.”

  “Right,” I reply. Cynthia isn’t like the other girls. I never knew her to be spiteful or catty. In fact, I was completely surprised when she took up around here so fast after the shit that went down with her husband. “Okay, well, ah, thanks.”

  “No problem,” Dalton replies before he turns for the door and then pauses. “Are you feeling all right, brother?” he asks me. “Why the hell are you asking about Cynthia, of all people? I didn’t even know you two hooked up.”

  “We didn’t,” I mutter with my teeth grinding together in equal parts regret and bitterness as I stomp down the stairs to my apartment.

  Chapter Two

  Cynthia

  “Someone’s having sex in the dressing room again,” my co-worker, Vicky, informs me when she strolls back around behind the counter where I’m sitting on a stool.

  “Good for them,” I reply, not the least bit jealous. I love sex, and miss it, but my new MO is to keep my legs locked tighter than a nun’s. “But also, ew. Let’s hope they’re not using any of our products to assist in their pleasure quest.”

  For the past three years, ever since I came to Emerald Isle, I’ve been working full-time in an adult entertainment store, surrounded by sex all day and night. I even bought it from the original owners a few months ago when they decided they were ready to retire. We sell pornographic movies, costumes, toys, and every other kinky thing in between. At first, I was a little scandalized by the erotic content, but now none of the merchandise even phases me. Sex is the most normal, natural thing in life. Hell, it is life. Society should learn to embrace it rather than place a shitload of shame on it. But I digress…

  “You’re here on a Friday night. Does that mean you’re still dead set on this idiotic idea of giving up the MC?” Vicky asks. She arches a single brown eyebrow at me, the way she always does when she thinks I’m being an idiot.

  “I am,” I answer with a sigh. “It’s time for my life to have…more.”

  “More than getting your brains fucked out by hot bikers?” she replies.

  “Sure, it was fun, but I’m getting ready to turn thirty,” I explain. “I want kids one day, and a husband who likes me for more than my talents in the bedroom,” I add with a smile that doesn’t last long as I remember that the second portion of that wish is going to be impossible to achieve. You can’t marry a man when you’re already legally tied to another. “Besides,” I add, “all the MC guys were starting to settle down. I didn’t want to end up being the pathetic woman still waiting around for one of them to make me their old lady when it’s clear that’s never going to happen.”

  I’m happy for Abe and Dalton, truly I am. I wish them and their women nothing but the best. They both gave me a lot of hot nights that I’ll never forget. Now, the only available Savage Kings are Miles, Cooper, Gabe, Sax, Ian and Reece. Miles, the MC’s enforcer, isn’t just rough around the edges, he’s completely jagged inside and out. I know because I’ve had several borderline violent nights at his mercy, or lack thereof. The dark look in that man’s eyes truly terrifies me. Then there’s Cooper, who is sweet but constantly surrounded by beautiful, exotic dancers at Avalon. There’s no way my ego could take that sort of continual comparison where I fall exceedingly short. While I don’t know for certain and would never ask, I think Abe’s brother Gabriel may prefer the company of males to females. Sax loves his boat as much as his Harley; and while I love the sight of the ocean, I can’t swim. Ian still has a few more years left on his prison sentence. And last but not least, there’s Reece, the man who rarely leaves the basement. After all the time I spent at the clubhouse, I don’t think I ever saw Reece with a single woman. I guess the former military man is too serious and uptight for trivial things like sex and romance.

  So, I’ve cut my losses with the Kings and have decided to try to date normal men who don’t live life quite so dangerously. Guys like Tommy, my neighbor who has an apartment a few doors down from mine.

  “I may not have an exciting night lined up, but Tommy is coming over. I’m cooking chicken parmesan for him,” I share with Vicky.

  “Have you slept with him yet?”

  “No,” I respond. “Tonight will only be our second date. And you know my new rule – no nookie until at least ten.”

  “And you think he’ll last that long?” she asks.

  “I think Tommy’s a good guy who will wait patiently until I’m ready. If not, then so long and good riddance!” I reply.

  This is the new me – a woman who is looking for a serious relationship. The little technicality of me still being married to a dickhead is also a problem for another day. First, I need to find a man worth committing to again, and then I’ll figure out what to do about severing ties with the man I’ve been hiding from for the past three years.

  Chapter Three

  Reece

  After checking with the local hospitals and jails, there’s still no sign of the sexy redhead. Since none of the other guys have seen Cynthia in town or heard from her, I broke down and tried to call her.

  She didn’t answer her phone, nearly sending my concern and paranoia into a full-blown panic. I’ve learned over the years in the military and with the MC that, when I get a bad feeling, it’s usually for a good reason.

  I could wait another day and keep calling her, or…I could get off my ass and see if I can find her. Since that seems like the only way I’m going to get any sleep tonight, I do the unthinkable and leave Eddie in charge of the club’s security.

  The night has turned chilly, so I take my Jeep instead of my bike across town.

  According to my search, Cynthia has been living in an apartment complex a block away from the beach for over a year. I’m relieved to see her Honda Civic in the parking lot when I pull up. But if she’s home, then why the hell didn’t she answer her goddamn phone when I called?

  I walk up to her apartment on the third floor and raise my fist to bang against it, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of my basement tonight and come out to a strange place that I haven’t fully vetted…

  The ap
artment door yanks open, and then I’m staring at a middle-aged man with pale blond hair and a gut sticking out of his white button-down and khakis.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I ask him, since I know I’m at the right apartment.

  “Ah, Tommy?” he responds, all wide-eyed and sweaty looking.

  “Are you asking me if your name is Tommy, or are you telling me?” I huff.

  “Telling…I’m telling you. I’m Tommy.”

  “You sure about that? You don’t sound too sure, Tommy.”

  “Who is it, hon?” The voice I recognize as Cynthia’s calls out from further inside the apartment.

  Jesus. Is this the type of man Cynthia is screwing now? He’s so soft he couldn’t protect her from a mouse. And judging by the nervous look of the Chubby Professor, I doubt he could even find his way around a woman’s body with a flashlight.

  “I’m not sure!” he calls back to her while still eyeing me cautiously.

  “Are you gonna invite me in or tell me to fuck off?” I ask him. “And if you tell me to fuck off, how do you plan to back up those big words, hon?”

  “Ah…” he stammers, unsure how to respond. He knows he’s screwed either way he goes. He doesn’t want me to come inside, but he’s also lacking the balls to tell me to get lost.

  Fortunately for him, a tall, curvy redhead appears, rescuing him from having to answer. Her hands are wringing a colorful dish towel, drying off her hands. Cynthia’s emerald eyes blink at me for several silent seconds before she says, “Reece? What the heck are you doing here?”

  …

  Cynthia

  Holy shit!

  I would’ve been less surprised to see Santa Claus standing on the other side of my apartment door! None of the Savage Kings have ever stopped by my place, especially one I haven’t slept with. God, I would’ve given anything to be with him for a night, though.

  Reece meets my question with his usual annoyed, impatient scowl on his handsome, clean-shaven face. The thick, muscular man looks amazing as always in his worn blue jeans, black hoodie and, of course, his black leather Savage Kings’ cut over top of it. Intimidating is the word best used to describe him.

  “Good. You’re alive,” he says blandly without an ounce of emotion or relief in his voice.

  “Ah, yeah. I’m alive,” I respond in confusion. Sometimes it’s hard to believe it myself, but here I still am, thriving and breathing, despite one asshole’s best effort to end my life just a few years ago.

  “Do you know this man, Cynthia?” Tommy asks, his voice shaky. I doubt he’s ever associated with a man like Reece before.

  “Tommy, meet Reece. Reece, this is Tommy,” I say, making introductions. “Now, could you tell me why you’re here?”

  “No one’s seen you at the clubhouse for a few weeks,” Reece answers, turning his gaze to Tommy while he talks.

  “So you’re…checking up on me?” I ask even though that’s absurd.

  “Yes.”

  Was Dalton or Abe worried about me? They’re in serious relationships now, so I find it hard to believe they even noticed when I wasn’t around.

  Hold on. If they were worried, then why didn’t one of them come by? Why is the man I’ve barely spoken to more than a handful of times here instead of one of the men I was frequently intimate with?

  Reece doesn’t offer up any more information, so I ask him, “Why did you come to check on me instead of someone else?” The quiet, solemn man rarely comes up to the bar for air, much less leaves the premises. I’ve never even seen him on his bike, but I assume he has one since that’s a requirement for membership in the Savage Kings. For him to venture all the way out here because he was worried about me is mind blowing.

  “Tonight was Maddox’s patching in party, so everyone else was busy,” Reece responds, bursting my happy bubble that maybe he somehow cared about me enough to leave the confines of his secretive dungeon.

  “Oh,” I mutter in annoyance. Why did I even get my hopes up? How silly of me. “Well, thanks, I guess. I’m fine, as you can see. And I’m a grown woman. I don’t need you or anyone else checking in on me, especially the MC.”

  “So, you’re finished with the club?” Reece asks, finally turning his silver, probing eyes to mine and propping both of his hands on his hips as if in irritation.

  “The club? What club?” Tommy asks, looking between us.

  “Yes, I am.” I swallow around the knot in my throat at the mention of giving up the Savage Kings and everything they represent for good. It wasn’t exactly easy to walk away after how deeply I got caught up in all that was bikes and men in leather for years.

  “You could’ve had the decency to tell someone,” Reece grumbles.

  What did he expect? A formal resignation letter that I would no longer be warming any beds?

  “I honestly didn’t think anyone would notice or care,” I reply with a non-humorous bark of laughter before I cross my arms over my chest, still gripping the cloth. Then a thought hits me. “How did you know where I lived?”

  One of Reece’s eyebrows arches, his expression filled with his usual arrogance before he answers. “I gave you a new identity within a day. Tracking you down took me less than thirty seconds.”

  “Wait, what? A new identity?” Tommy asks when he continues to be left out of the conversation.

  Liquid warmth spreads low in my belly from just hearing Reece’s cocky words and the reminder of how he helped me when I first ended up in town. And now here he is, showing up at my apartment in the middle of the night. He can say he only showed up because everyone else is busy all he wants, but several of the guys have my phone number. A simple call to check on me would have sufficed. Instead, the basement hermit ventured out to see me face to face for himself.

  Me, the girl who wasn’t anything but a good time for a few of the Kings.

  I liked being under the club’s protection. They made me feel safe at a time in my life where I needed it most. And I’ll never have any regrets about sleeping with several of the guys, because the sex was fucking amazing. But I can’t deny that I would’ve given anything to be treated like one of their queens instead of one of their groupies.

  Turning his attention back to Tommy, Reece smirks and says, “Cynthia hasn’t told you about the Savage Kings or all the time she spent with us?”

  “The savage whats?” my date asks while I glare daggers at the biker. He has no right coming to my house and bringing that up! And why did he use the word us? It wasn’t like the two of us ever “spent time together.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say to Tommy, but then Reece points to the patch on the right side of his cut and tells him, “The Savage Kings MC. Cynthia was a…regular, and we hadn’t seen her in a while.”

  I cringe at the term “regular” before I scowl at him. “That’s all in the past now,” I tell Tommy. Then to Reece, I say, “And I apologize if I worried anyone, but as you can see, I’m fine. Better than fine. We were just getting ready to have dinner, and now my chicken parmesan is probably burning.”

  Reece inhales deeply, causing his nostrils to flare and then asks, “Is that what you’ve got cooking? Man, it smells delicious. Do you have enough for one more?”

  “One more what?” I ask at the same time Tommy says, “Sure.”

  “Huh?” I stammer as I look to my date in surprise at his invitation for Reece to join us.

  “I’m not really hungry, so I think I’ll head on home,” Tommy replies. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Before I can protest, Tommy slips out and Reece comes inside. He shuts the door behind him, sealing the two of us in my apartment and leaving me standing there in the foyer frozen with my jaw gaping.

  When I recover, I ask aloud, “What just happened?”

  “The Chubby Professor just bolted on you like a little bitch,” Reece responds with a grin while his eyes sweep attentively around my living room. He seems to be taking in every slow inch as if there’s going to be a memorization test about my apartmen
t after we have dinner.

  Hold on. I’m having dinner with Reece?

  “I…you…what?” I’m still stammering when I hear a loud, persistent beeping coming from the kitchen. “Shit, the chicken parmesan!”

  “Better check on that,” Reece says, causing me to glare at him once more before I head back to the kitchen.

  “You can leave now that you’ve checked on me and scared off my date,” I tell him as I put down the dish towel to grab a pot holder and pull out the baking dish from the oven.

  “No, way. I’m starving. Besides, it’s not my fault the Chubby Professor doesn’t have any balls.”

  “Stop calling him that! And he has balls,” I huff, setting the dish on the stove to cool down.

  “You sure about that? Because I’m not,” Reece mutters. After I refuse to respond, he asks, “So, why haven’t you told him about the club? You ashamed of us or something?”

  “No,” I snap. “I’m just not going to go shouting from the rooftops about who all I’ve slept with. It’s no one’s business.”

  “A guy you’re dating may disagree with that statement.”

  “Well, that is definitely none of your business,” I point out. “So why don’t you go on back to your dungeon and tell whoever was worried about me that I’m fine?”

  “And that you’re apparently fooling around with overweight, boring professors now,” Reece adds when he joins me in the kitchen. His fingertips reach out and touch every item within his reach before he looks at me and says, “That’s quite a jump from outlaw bikers, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right,” I agree while pulling out two plates from the overhead cabinet since he’s apparently staying. “I’m dating a man who wants to take me out to dinner a few times before he unzips his jeans. What’s wrong with that?”

  Picking up my bottle of Triton wine, removing the cork and sniffing it, Reece says, “Oh, I’m pretty sure the Chubby Professor has to unzip his pants whenever he wants to sit down.”