Being Lost: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #1

by Manda Mellett

  What pressure would that put on her newly fledged relationship with her son?

  Dan had chosen his father and became a stranger to his mom. Patsy obviously felt a responsibility for the breakdown of their relationship and wanted to take the chance to remedy the mistakes she’s made in the past. But Dan’s a man, he’s bound to fuck up again. Will she grow to resent him?

  What happens if Dan finds a woman of his own and settles down? What will happen to Patsy? She’ll be on her own.

  She’s so determined to keep everyone out of harm’s way that she’ll risk her own happiness to do it. I can’t see her making that sacrifice again, not when I see how painful being apart from her daughter is.

  Watching her blot her eyes once again, she offers me a brave, tenuous smile. I find myself saying, “I want to help you, Patsy.”

  “You are helping. You’ve brought us here, and I do admit I feel safer. You’re giving me a chance to speak to Beth. Demon’s doing whatever he can from his end. That’s everything right now.”

  It’s nothing at all. Not once she finds out Beth’s pregnant.

  Now she’s got a day to wait before she’s likely to hear from Beth. Twenty-four hours or more and each sixty-minute period is bound to drag. It’s been a tortuous time since Patsy first called me yesterday, and it’s not yet been twenty-four hours. The fear of being stalked, then, while Dusty and Curtis kept her safe last night, that I thought she needed them must have made her more scared. Her only moment of pleasure was that brief interlude with Alex, and I’ll need to thank Dart’s woman for providing her with that.

  But soon after, I’d brought her down to earth with a huge fucking bump, telling her she was the one Alder was after. She’s been put through the ringer, all of us trying to work out why her son isn’t the target, but her, herself.

  I want to take her mind off her problems. Until we hear back from Colorado, or unless Token finds anything, there’s nothing more we can do for now.

  I notice her tears have dried, and that she’s started fidgeting.

  “You ever been on a motorcycle, Patsy?”

  “Er, what?” My question has flummoxed her, and she takes a moment to process my words.

  I grin at her. “On a bike. You want to come for a ride? Personally, I find there’s nothing better to clear my head when there are too many thoughts whirling around inside it. Wind therapy never did anyone any harm.”

  She lets out a short laugh, her eyes going wide as she dips her chin down. “You’re joking, aren’t you? No, I have never been on the back of a bike and can’t say I’ve ever had any desire to ride one. I think I’m past it now. Just look at me.” She waves a hand toward herself.

  I almost wish she hadn’t made that gesture as my eyes follow the direction of her hand. Sure, she’s not got the youthful figure of a woman three decades younger, but as I’d seen from that short demonstration on the pole, she’s still supple, and those breasts of hers look like they’ll fit just right in my hands. I know from memory her ass is shapely, her hips meaty enough I’d be able to hang onto them with my hands…

  I’m glad the desk is between us right now. Though, then again, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt for her to understand, she’s still desirable to a man. Might perk her up a little. Well, this man, anyway, any other fucker who dares to even think something similar about her will learn his mistake at the end of my fist. Really?

  Yes, really. So why am I bothering to fight it?

  I’m no good for her.

  She’ll be leaving soon.

  Everything I think is true, yet somehow, I feel I have to, as they say, seize the moment. Patsy intrigues me like no woman has for a very long time.

  Suddenly it’s of real importance that I get her on the back of my bike.

  “You’re not past it,” I scoff as I stand. “Come on. Let’s go ride.”

  Maybe it’s the dominance in my tone, the suggestion I won’t take any refusal, but she pushes herself up from the chair. Then she comes to herself. “It’s not safe for me to be seen around.”

  “You’ll be wearing a helmet. Your face can be hidden by a bandana and sunglasses, and no one would think of looking for you riding pillion.”

  “It’s a crazy idea.” Her mouth says one thing, her face suggests another.

  I work on the spark of interest I see in her eyes. “You object to crazy, babe? You never up to doing something just for the sheer hell of it?”

  “Not for a very long time.” There’s a twinkle in her eyes that makes me suspect her answer will be yes. “Not since I settled down and became a mom.”

  “Your children are grown, Patsy. You deserve some fun.”

  Deciding I’m not going to give her a further chance to object, I take hold of her arm and guide her out the door.

  Five minutes later, leaving an open-mouthed Dan in our wake and after a few hastily issued instructions, I’m riding down the track and out of the compound, heading up toward the mountains with no particular destination in mind, just knowing I need to feel the wind on my face and her at my back.

  At first, she’s stiff, awkward, but quickly she begins to move with me like a natural, as though she’s been doing this all her life. I love the feeling of her breasts pushed against the leather of my cut, and the way her arms hug my waist. For me, the years drop away. I’m no longer Lost, an MC prez with so much on my plate, I’m just a man with no cares in the world except for enjoying the ride, and the feel of a woman pressed up behind him. Ageless, carrying no burden, all my troubles left behind.

  As her tension fades, she starts to relax, her hands wrapped around my waist loosening their death grip. The wind would take my words away were I to speak, so after a while I slow and pull up by the side of the road.

  I glance behind me. “Doing okay?”

  Her smile tells me all I want to know. Her words, just a bonus. “Why did I wait so long for this, Lost? I feel alive.”

  I punch down into first again and let out the clutch. If I didn’t get moving, I’d give in to my impulse and kiss her. I’m starting to think that will come, but it will have to be the right time and place. I’m wary of chasing away the first woman I’ve started to have feelings for in years. It’s not just the sexy package she comes in, it’s her family loyalty, and fuck me if it wasn’t for the way she’s willing to give anything a try. Pole dancing? Tick. A motorbike ride? Sure, a couple of protests and then she was all in. I suspect she’s become so used to living the life of a housewife and mother, she’s not given much thought to what she, herself, wants out of life and is capable of should she put her mind to it.

  I continue listing the things I admire about her as I ride for another half hour, reaching for, but coming up with nothing I could say would turn me off. Then I pull into a spot where there’s a scenic view back down over the city and out over the Pacific.

  I tap her knee and turning, ask her to dismount. She does so, balancing one hand on my shoulder. As I put down the stand, she takes off her helmet, hands it to me, then walks to the barrier and looks over, then turns back around and stares up to the mountains, closer to us now than they were back at the compound.

  “It’s so different here. Hot, dry.”

  I know she’s not talking about between here and the compound. “Colorado more beautiful?”

  She shrugs. “Different. There’s a stark beauty here too.”

  There’s beauty in front of me as well.

  I’m a man who makes mistakes, someone overly cautious as life has taught me to be. The idea I’d had less than an hour ago has only strengthened while we’ve been riding. I want her. But I don’t want to fuck this up, so instead of assuming, I state my intention, giving her every opportunity to object.

  “I want to kiss you, Patsy.” As her eyes widen, I expand, “I want to wrap my hand in your hair, hold you tight and feel your mouth against mine.” There’s a danger I might never want to let her go, but I keep that part to myself.

  “Oh my.” Her eyes go wider. “I, er, I haven’t been
properly kissed for two decades.” Her voice is breathy.

  “You stayed faithful?”

  “Yes, but not intentionally.” She shrugs. “I didn’t feel I owed him anything, and had no good memories to cherish, but, I, er, well, with two young children I didn’t have much chance. I didn’t really seek out any opportunities, and none presented themselves. Oh, I was asked out a couple of times, Beth encouraged me to date, but nothing ever came of it.” As she turns away to look at the view, this time the ocean, she continues, honestly, “I’m middle aged, Lost. I’m not a young girl.”

  I’ve come up behind her, not touching, but close enough with her back to my front that she can feel my breath on her neck as I tell her, “You’re still a woman, Patsy.”

  She shrugs. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just a mom.”

  “It’s time to live for you now.” She’s not told me no.

  Gently my hands rest on her shoulders. When she doesn’t pull away, I get a better purchase and turn her around to face me. There’s a bemused expression on her face as I lower my lips to hers.

  For a moment, it’s just the faintest of touches. As I’d warned her, one of my hands twists into her windblown hair, the other descends to her waist and I pull her into my body. With a firm grip, I press with my tongue, requesting silently that she open for me.

  She sighs and relents. Now it’s tongues touching, sliding together sensuously.

  I notice she fits in my arms perfectly. The feel of her, being able to taste her, to breathe in the feminine flowery perfume of her shampoo is as intoxicating as any drug.

  I tighten my hold, making my kiss more demanding. She gasps, and presses into me asking for more.

  I comply, every part of me tingling, coming alive for the first time in years. A brief encounter with a club girl holds nothing to this. My cock is so hard, it’s painfully throbbing.

  I raise my mouth slightly, enough to tell her, “See what you fuckin’ do to me, babe?” My hand against her waist pulls her to me so she can be left in no doubt. “Don’t care what you think about yourself, it’s what I think that matters. I think you’re one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met.”

  “I’m old,” she says. “Lost, you’re…”

  “I’m fifty, babe. Hardly boy toy material. And you’re what?”

  “Fifty-three,” she replies, honestly. “But you could have your choice—”

  I grasp her silky locks, holding on tightly, forcing her to look up to see the sincerity in my face. “Yeah, I’ve got a choice. And you’re it.” At the flicker of worry in her eyes, I add, “Appreciate it’s been a long time for you, babe, so we’re going to take this slowly. I’m not a kid just wanting to get his rocks off. When I take you to bed, you’re going to know it means something. I’m willing to wait until you’re ready.”

  “Lost, I don’t, I couldn’t do a one-night stand. If… if I go to bed with someone, it would have to mean something, and I’m in no position to start an affair.” I feel the tug against my hand as she tries to turn away, but my grasp is too tight. She’s forced to look into my eyes as she says, “I never thought, never expected… Damn, I’m putting this badly. I didn’t come away with Dan looking for romance, I get that vicariously through the books that I read. So no, I can’t let this go any further. I like you, respect you, perhaps too much. Perhaps for the wrong reasons as you came out of nowhere and saved me. But in a few days, I’ll be gone, and if I give in to you, you’d be just one more person who it would hurt to leave.” She stops to take a breath.

  “Don’t want to see you go, babe.” I take my chance to speak. “But I won’t push you into something you don’t want, not until we know how the land lies. I’ve got a feeling that once I’m inside you, I’ll never want to leave. Then waving as you drive off into the sunset, well, you wouldn’t be the only person that would hurt.” It’s my turn to pause, and then continue, “I’ve got to be honest, babe. You’re right to be cautious. Believe me, I’m not a good bet for a happily ever after.” I chuckle softly. “I don’t mean that in a freedom loving biker way. I mean, I’ve been there, done that. I know I’ll fuck up. Won’t be me that wants to walk away.”

  I loosen my hold, and she takes the opportunity to turn her back on me. “Neither of us seems to be in a position to make promises, Lost.” She glances back over her shoulder. “That kiss… I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that before. Your passion…”

  It makes me wonder about the bastard of a man she married. What kind of caress is she used to, and how much has she missed out on?

  She’s staring away from me again. “I can’t deny I want you. But I can’t go into something without risking my heart. I can’t separate physical feelings from emotions. I know…” her breath catches, “I know this is only a pleasant interlude in what’s become of my life. The compound is an oasis where I can catch my breath, and you’re giving me my chance to speak to Beth before leaving again, and this time, maybe forever.”

  Damn, now she’s put it so starkly it brings everything into sharp focus in my mind. It might be the stupidest decision of my life, but I can’t let her go. “No.” I might be risking my club, my life. Her… But I can’t let her walk away. Sure, for me it would be another loss, something I’d feel deep down inside would have been worth keeping and certainly not the first time it’s happened to me. For her though? “No. We’ll get Alder off your back. It’s him that’s going six feet under, babe. You’re going nowhere.”

  Her pleasure in the day has gone, and she shakes her head. “I can’t ask that. He’s too dangerous.”

  “You’re not asking,” I contradict. “But I am. I’m asking that you stay and take a stand. For you, for Dan, for Beth. And, maybe, for us. For however long you want me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Patsy

  It’s peaceful here. Hot, but not unbearable as Lost has parked under the shade provided by a tree. A gentle breeze is blowing. On the bike it had been cooling, here in the foothills, it’s warm.

  I walk back to the barrier and rest my forearms on it again thinking hard. Phil had died when his car had exploded. Of course, as I’d no connection with him for years, the police hadn’t involved me, and I knew little more than I’d read in the newspaper. So far as I’m aware, they remain with no clues as to who was responsible for the explosion which killed him. The timing though, that it coincided with the Satan’s Devils rescuing Beth, I’m ninety-nine percent certain that Demon and the Colorado chapter of the Satan’s Devils were the ones who eliminated my ex. Neither Dan, Beth nor I had mourned his passing. His death had left the world a better place. In the end, he’d proven he was a worse man than I’d ever imagined, seeing Beth not as a daughter, but as a commodity he could make money from, uncaring if she were heading for a life of suffering.

  I hadn’t asked a straight question, knowing I wouldn’t get a response. Sharing, admitting was not the way of the Devils. In truth, if I knew who was responsible, I’d probably have shaken his hand.

  If Phil had been a bad man, Alder? Well he’s something else. More evil, more devious, richer and clearly powerful. The Devils might have been able to take an unsuspecting Phil Foster out, but Alder? Not only will he be better protected, after Phil’s death, he’ll be on his guard. He’s already underground, hiding from the feds. I’m not even certain the Devils could find him.

  Lost has basically told me he’d kill a man, so I’d have my life and family again. That he’d offered himself in the process, well, I’ve got to push that to the back of my mind. Sorting out my life and that of my children takes precedence now. A few short months back, I was a woman happy with her small business and living a quiet life. If anyone had told me I’d condone not just one actual but a second possible murder, I’d have laughed in their face. But that’s what I seem to be doing.

  Lost looks uneasy, like admitting he’d kill a man to remove him from my life might have upset me. It hasn’t. What woman wouldn’t want a man to do all in his power to keep them safe? But what if he
fails? What if I decide to take a stand, as he calls it, and lose my life, his, and my children’s as well? Alder wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied. I don’t even know what he wants. Me found, certainly, me dead, possibly.

  I’m the one he’s looking for. Not Dan. So that presents another option which Lost hasn’t considered. I could go, disappear, all by myself. Cad, Demon’s computer guy in Colorado could get me a new ID. Dan, well, he’s dead. He can stay here and be safe, especially if Lost watches out for him. If I leave, only I will suffer. If I stay, I risk everyone’s lives.

  I hadn’t lied when I’d told Lost I’ve been out on a few dates, but no man I’d seen more than once or twice. Beth had been nine when the hell that had become my marriage had ended, and Connor just four. My life revolved around them and their activities. Sometimes I felt I was an unpaid taxi service, always in demand. But I didn’t resent it, these were my kids, I gave them life, and that gave me the responsibility of bringing them up the best that I could. Beth used to encourage me to get a life for myself, babysitting Connor once she was old enough on the rare occasions I did go out.

  But I’m a boring homemaker whose hobby is sewing. I was picky with men, always had been, stupidly holding out for a happy ever after. The few men I met seemed to want something short term, or ran when they heard I had kids, thinking I was after a substitute father. Or they saw me as a desperate woman who they wouldn’t need to work hard at to get into bed.

  I’d never met one who I’d felt any real attraction for. Men my age were balding, had pot bellies, and looked tired.

  Lost though, well, he could pass for a man ten years younger. He’s kept himself in shape, still has a mass of hair, and that beard… I didn’t realise how attractive one was until I saw his. His eyes are sharp and miss nothing, which begs the question, What does he see in me?

  I admit I’ve aged well. Without bragging, I know I compare fairly well against some women who’ve lived the same number of years, and I’m more confident in my outward looks now than I was when I was a gangly teen. My waist is only an inch thicker than thirty years ago, my hair is long and thick, and while bringing up two kids on my own should have caused worry lines aplenty, my face is still fairly smooth. But it’s the parts that don’t show that are what worry me. My breasts are no longer perky and firm, and my stomach is flabby. Cellulite rules my thighs and butt, and my skin is creased.