Jaxson (Kinsmen MC Book 1)

by Hazel Parker

  “You sleep early.”

  “I have to teach a class in the morning and then I have a workshop.”

  “A workshop?” he asks.

  I know I should be going to sleep, I really should. But I can just set an extra alarm and I should be good.

  “Yes. Basically other people read my work and say if it is bad or not.”

  “Oh. So you’re writing plays?”

  I giggle, “Yes, I do.”

  “Shit. That’s impressive, Isabelle.”

  I bite my lip and look up to my blank ceiling. The way he says my name goes right to my clit. I feel my pussy clenching just at the sound of his voice, of him breathing through the phone.

  “Thanks. Are you in bed too?” I ask gingerly.

  “No, I don’t go to bed at midnight. Do you want me to get in bed?” he chuckles under his breath.

  “I—no. Um. If you want.” I clear my throat and try to roll away the awkwardness but it doesn’t work. At least not on my end.

  “You’re real cute, Isabelle.”

  “You’re… yourself.” I trail off, deciding against telling him I think he’s hot and sexy, or arrogant and pompous.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks.

  “Um, I don’t know. Probably study after class.” I feel like I know that he winces and judges me, but not in a bad way.

  “Let’s go for a ride. I’ll come pick you up.”

  I only take about half a beat before I decide to respond, though it’s not like I had much of an option. I know what I would say regardless.

  “Okay.” I whisper.

  “Goodnight, Isabelle.”

  He hangs up before I can respond, though I’m not sure of what else I would say back.

  It’s even harder to fall asleep now. Because his voice is fresh in my head. The hard, rough, callous of it.

  It takes me right back to our kiss and the way it made my body thrum. The way it brought me and so much of my self to life.

  A part that has come alive right now, thriving under the sheets. I slip my fingers between my legs and shudder at the immediate contact, it really has been too long. I close my eyes to thoughts of Jaxson. It feels so dirty and wrong, but right at the same time. And so I continue until I carry my body to climax with Jaxson and his sexy voice and body in my mind.

  9

  ISABELLE

  “You did good, really.”

  My advisor from the MFA program had to sit in on my first class, just to make sure I would be on track and not ruin the students so early on in the semester.

  “Thank you, Jace, that means a lot. I was really worried.”

  He waves me off, “Nah, you were great. You ready for workshop?” he has bright green eyes that light up on their own, and sandy brown hair he wears messy. He always dresses like a playwright; plain clothes and sweater that looks like it’s seen some things. He’s older than me but I don’t know by how much, a few of his plays have been published and are in production, but he’s so humble, I forget about his success.

  “Sure.” I’m nervous as hell, but that’s something I don’t think I want to admit to him.

  We walk to the hall together.

  It’s not far but it is all the way across campus. I have a bike but I don’t think I will ever use it.

  After being on Jaxson’s motorcycle, it is the only bike I ever want to ride on.

  When I get to workshop I swallow the feeling of being surrounded by people who are possibly better than be. Smarter, or more talented.

  It lasts two hours and I’m swamped with work already. I need a partial of original work by the end of the week. I think about cancelling on Jaxson, but I can’t bring myself to. I woke up thinking about it, went to class and called role thinking about it. And sat in workshop thinking about it.

  I like to think I may be the only one that has gone on a date—or sort of date, with an MC club guy that’s on this campus. But I know that’s not what makes me excited about him.

  He could be a tax auditor and I would still be obsessed with knowing him. Maybe not obsessed. Close enough.

  I texted Riley to see if she could give me a ride and she quickly responded.

  Riley: Sure, you want to eat dinner with me too?

  Me: Sure.

  I don’t think taking a ride included dinner, and I would rather not have to eat through butterflies with him again.

  “Hey, thank you so much.” I figured I wouldn’t take my car first day. I didn’t want to have to figure out parking. I saw where the good spots were so now, I know for tomorrow.

  “Yeah of course.” She smiles over at me and peels off campus.

  “Are you excited for your date tonight?” she giggles. I know she has her reservations, but she is very good at hiding that and just being excited for me.

  “Oh god… I guess I am.”

  She laughs aloud and moves to asking me how my day was, I let the distraction keep me from thinking about Jaxson and nothing else.

  10

  JAXSON

  Calling Isabelle before I can even go to sleep is another thing I’m not used to. Another thing I can’t bring myself to try and understand. I went about my night as usual, finished my workout at the gym down the street before my sad frozen dinner and beer. I was only dogging her about being in bed early, I was fucking exhausted but somehow still tossing and turning, knowing I said I would call and debating whether or not to do it.

  I don’t want to start out being rude or saying I’ll do things that I don’t do. I don’t know if we’re dating or seeing each other or whatever the fuck people call it. I just know that she is the only woman on my mind and will probably stay that way for a while.

  So I start the day trying to perfectly plan out our date. This will be a real one, and I honestly haven’t done it since junior year of high school for the prom. My date was older, a senior, and I only went to please my mom. Because I knew I would shit senior year away and pay no attention, which I did.

  As I leave the bathroom after taking a piss and brushing my teeth, Zeke calls me.

  “You’re up early.” I answer. It’s barely ten, which for him is early.

  “Piss off. I’m taking a boxing class, thought you might want to come.”

  I laugh at that, “A boxing class? We have those here?” I put him on speaker so I can get to making coffee and a protein shake.

  “Yeah, some new gym in the city. I figure if I show up, people will know it’s part of our turf.”

  “Come on, you know we don’t do that.” I shake my head internally at him.

  Zeke has always been that way. Using the club as a defense sometimes when we shouldn’t, or making us out to be gang type people, and we aren’t.

  “I know, relax. I just know the owner. We went to high school together, he went off to college and shit but now he’s back. Opening up a gym.”

  “Nice. I guess.”

  “He played football but now he’s back because of some shit going on with his family. You might see him around the club.”

  “Okay, anyone is welcome.” I over brew the coffee and freak out because all I did while Zeke was talking is think about Isabelle.

  “I know. Anyway I was calling to see if you wanted to come.”

  I snort, “I don’t box.” I lift weights, and rarely run. Zeke does a bunch of shit I can’t even explain. He was doing flips off the club roof when he was ten, getting into almost every sport there was while he was in school. I was sure he could have ridden some sort of sports scholarship to college, but he wanted to stay in town and it was around when Dad got sick for the first time.

  “I invited everyone, you can’t be the only one that doesn’t show up, Scrooge.”

  “That’s only for Christmas time.”

  “Whatever.” He laughs his chortling chime and I ignore him until I sit with my plate in front of the window. I have a view of the whole neighborhood. Some single moms live here and have told me a couple of times that they feel safer with me here, and families with d
ads that come over and say I should maybe live closer to the club. They do it under the guise of neighborhood safety, but I know it’s because their women look at me. I never play into it if I can help it, but I know the man on a motorcycle thing is what some of the women like.

  “I’ll go.” I decide, figuring it will be better to be around company all day, than think about Isabelle and over think what I’m going to do tonight.

  I want it to be special. Isabelle deserves that, I don’t know much about her but I know at least that much. She is gorgeous and funny and nice, I don’t know how I even managed to meet her. I have never thought about a woman this way and I know it will last a long time, thinking about her every movement, wanting her to be safe. And then I kissed her and knew I was completely done for. I can still feel her lips on mine, tingling, a man like me never tingles. That shit made my knees fucking weak and all I want is to do it again.

  “Good. We can grab dinner at the diner afterwards.”

  “I uh—I have plans.”

  “What the fuck? You never have plans.” Zeke chuckles, and it’s true.

  “Yeah well, I do tonight.”

  “Oh shit, is it that chick from the other night?” he practically shrieks and I hear him grinning from the other end. I’m not even sure where he is but it sounds like he is just at home.

  “Yeah. And I don’t want to talk about it so don’t ask me nothin about it.”

  “Hey, I get it. No worries. And I’ll cover you with the other guys, because you know Matthew won’t let it rest any more than I would.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” I drink the last of my shake and shag my cup in the sink.

  “Is that all you called me to say?”

  He trials off, and his voice never usually gets serious. About anything. So I’m shocked when I hear him answer and know that it must be real shit.

  “No. Simon is coming by the club.”

  I GET DRESSED THINKING about how Simon never comes to the club. Not unless Mom makes him, or we just about bribe him to come. He was never really part of it, even when dad was alive. I don’t know why it was never his thing, or why he just never agreed with it. It used to be my mission to figure it out, but now I’m not really sure that I care much.

  After I put on my bike boots and lace them up, I’m out the door. It has gotten cooler, so I’m glad I put on my cut over a flannel because the bite of the wind will be even stronger. Just as I swing my leg over the bike, I get visions of Isabelle in my head. The constant feeling of her comes to mind too. I have never felt a more perfect pair of thighs around mine, warm and soft; they were fucking perfect. And the way her scent swirled around me. It’s like warm vanilla and flowers that I never smell, that’s the only way I know how to describe it. All I want to do is inhale it for the rest of my life, too.

  When I pull up to the club, I recognize every bike of the execs on the far left side. I pull up to the spot reserved for president, and accompany that feeling I get in the pit of my stomach every time I do, since Dad passed away. He’s buried only a few miles away under his bike, molded to the ground and crypted to last for centuries. I haven’t ever been back since the burial though, I don’t believe he is buried under dirt and gravel. He’s everywhere, and if I want to talk to him, I can at anytime. Days like today, I feel more like I need to.

  I walk inside to the low buzz of the bar music, glasses clinking, and quiet sounds of the customers. It is usually like this on Mondays, no one is ever here except regulars. The people that come inside and eat at the bar are usually passing through town, and don’t actually live here.

  If they did, the probably wouldn’t come inside. Half the town enjoys the club and the other half thinks it is a danger or a nuisance.

  “Jax, how are ya?” Chris, a bar regular, greets me. He works construction and knows us through Simon, who took that up as his job. So he has been coming here for years and was friends with Dad even before that. In fact, his company built the house we grew up in as a family. It’s the only way they could afford a six bedroom in these parts.

  “Doing Chris, how about you?” I ask back, shaking him hello as he half hugs me. He has definitely aged but still looks healthy as a horse, graying hair and lazy muscular build remind me of Dad.

  “Ah well, the usual. Got a big job coming up just outside of town so I sent my guys out ahead of me.”

  I nod and lean against the bar, our bartender right now is Frank, a good employee that’s kind of in and out, and he slides me my choice of beer.

  “Simon going out there too?” I ask. Not that Simon would even tell me. He doesn’t really do that kind of thing.

  “Nah, I like to keep him in town. Head up all the jobs here.”

  “Oh, you’ve got him in charge?” that makes me chuckle.

  He does too, “Pretty much. I have to retire soon. Someone has to take over and he is a good candidate.” Chris grins at me and I nod once, swigging back my beer. “Unless y’all need him here.”

  That makes me stop and think. I had no idea Simon was that deep in the construction company. Chris started it from the ground up, he hired Simon either as a favor or because he wanted to, I have no idea.

  But if he takes that on, obviously he won’t have time for the club. It’s in the family, and I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to do it, but I can’t force him to. I can’t hide how badly I want him to do it, either. Simon is older than me, he’ll always be my big brother in that sense, so sometimes I figure it should be the other way around, but he doesn’t. I just wish I knew when the disconnect happened.

  “Nah, do what you want.” I clap him on the back and say I’ll catch up with him later before I take my beer and head to the back room for this so called meeting.

  How the hell Simon even managed to call a meeting, I have no idea. As vice president, Matthew could, second to me as President. Maybe Simon realized that everyone here would still listen to him if he tried.

  “You’re late.” Matthew is by the door when I walk in, standing up in his cut and gray shirt underneath, with jeans even more faded than mine.

  “Fuck off.” I shake and swing my arm over his shoulders as he does the same. “Where is everyone?” I ask him.

  “Out back, should be in soon.” He answers and goes to sit in his respective spot. I do the same.

  In a few seconds my beer is gone and I am wondering what the meeting is about. I know about all the obvious issues, money and prospects; but Simon doesn’t.

  When the door comes swinging open, I look up to see Simon and Zeke half grinning, along with the other four club members. Simon locks eyes with me and I nod at him, he grins back. I haven’t seen him since our family dinner and I feel like he looks different every time. I hate when we are referred to this way, but he looks the least like a biker out of all of us.

  He keeps his hair low cut to his ears, where mine is down to my neck. He is more tanned from being out in the sun all the time, but we all are in that sense. And he drives a truck if he can help it. Plus he never wears flannel or leather. Right now he is in a black hoodie and dark jeans, combat boots that scrape the ground as he walks.

  “Hey,” he shakes my hand and sits next to me.

  The rest of the club execs walk in. Beast, that isn’t his real name but we call him that; he takes care of the stuff with the bar and what not and was one of the originals with Dad when he set the club up here. Then there’s Walker, a little on the young side. He is only five years out of being a prospect and is the treasurer, even though I have never talked to him about money. Maybe I am just taking a while to adjust. Walker has a family though, two boys and a wife. I still don’t know why he even joined the club, but Dad seemed to like him and welcomed him in, so I won’t argue with that.

  The other two; Max and Grant, are just glorified security sometimes, a helping hand, or tie breakers when things come to a vote. They are well accepted though, and have been in the club for about fifteen years. With them and Beast, I remember growing up here in the club. They’re my pseudo
uncles sometimes, and act like it.

  “How’s everyone doing?” I ask.

  “Good, doing okay.” Is the response I get from most of them.

  “I think we all want to know who that girl is, that you dragged out of the club on Saturday?” Beast chuckles, of course it’s him that asks. Zeke agrees and it was probably him who asked. He sits on my other side, with Matthew next to him.

  “There was no girl.” I lie with a gruff voice. They all laugh, even Simon who hasn’t even heard about it yet.

  At least I don’t think he has.

  “Whatever man. We’ll get you.” Zeke cackles his familiar, annoying laugh. I shake my head at him but can’t fight the natural smile that comes with being around him.

  “So,” I clasp my fingers over the black wood table with our cut painted on it, “what’s this all about?”

  I mainly ask Simon, but I figure he spoke to everyone here before me. He gives me an odd look, like he is trying to avoid talking to me or directly at me. With a sigh, he leans forward and crosses his forearms over the desk.

  “The club’s in trouble, Jax.” He says with a deep exhale. His voice is heavier than usual, his expression has no levity in it. Which means he really means it when he says that.

  “The new prospects should carry us into the next year, with the money and everything.” I say.

  Simon crinkles his brow as he glances at Beast, who nods at him as if it is okay.

  “The fuck is going on here?” I ask, getting tired of the secrets dancing around the room. I look at Zeke for a moment but he only shrugs in response, so I don’t think he knows the full story either. Matthew, too.

  “Relax, son. This doesn’t reflect bad on you, it’s just the way things are.” Max adds. He has a heavy voice that boom around the room, leaving it ringing with its deepness.

  “The way what things are? Look, if I felt that something was going on I would have called this meeting,” I look at Simon, “not someone who never even comes around or gives a damn.”

  “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have come, and you couldn’t have known about this either.” Simon scratches at is clean shaven jaw, letting the skin turn white and then return back to normal before he relaxes into the back of the seat.