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

by Manda Mellett

  “You were the one who thought you could go it alone, Snake. You were the one with the ideas that didn’t pan out. You were the one who the club kicked out.”

  “No, you’ll fuck up.”

  “Yeah, I might. But never as badly as you.”

  The shadowy figure shimmers. “You…” For once he sounds uncertain of himself. “I made you, Lost. You’d be dead without me.”

  “Maybe so. But I could have died the day we met, and you would have happily sat and watched and wouldn’t have lifted a finger to stop my drowning. I was never anything to you, was I, Snake?”

  “You’ll fuck up.”

  “Get lost, Snake. Go back and sup with the Devil.”

  Snake starts to shimmer.

  I’m strong. Stronger than he was. He always put himself first. The difference between us is I know I come last. I’d choose my woman, my brothers and club before myself.

  For once, I advance on the shadowy figure, and it’s he who steps back. Pointing my finger at him, I snarl, “You’re dead, Snake. I’m alive. I’ll never have my patch burned off. I’ll be a Satan’s Devil when I die.”

  Flames start flickering, a cleansing fire burning, the effect like paper charring gradually blackening his image. His mouth opens in a silent scream as the fires of Hell consume him completely and there’s nothing of him left.

  He’s gone. The air suddenly seems easier to breathe as though I’ve banished him once and for all.

  I’m me. My own man. Maybe I’m called Lost, and maybe I always will be, but maybe being Lost doesn’t mean that I am.

  One side of my mouth turns up, then the other, feeling like a weight has been lifted off me. I let plans for the night settle onto the back burner as I remember I’ve got another, and far pleasanter matter to address.

  At last I exit the meeting room and go to find my woman.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Patsy

  When my son nudges me in the side, I turn to see Lost striding toward me like a man on a mission.

  “I think you’re wanted, Mom,” Dan tells me, his face split in a wide grin.

  “We need to talk.” Lost sounds as serious as that look on his face.

  I swallow and jerk my head up and down. “Of course.”

  “Upstairs.” His word is barked, short and direct, but not stated cruelly. He’s clearly got something on his mind.

  “We’ll talk later,” I throw at my son, before following in the direction Lost has already started going in. “Is something wrong?” I ask quietly, as I catch up with him.

  “What? No.” He pauses mid-step, turning to face me. “Just need to ask you something.”

  Well, it can’t be about Alder or this mess, else he’d probably have brought it up in front of my son. Unless it’s about Dan. It’s urgent, whatever it is. As Lost resumes his steps, I try to keep up with his long strides.

  We come to his door, he opens it, then gentleman-like steps back to let me enter before him.

  I’m no sooner inside when his hands come to my arms and he swings me around to face him.

  “Want those lips now.” His mouth comes down, I raise my head, going on tiptoe to meet him.

  One of his hands curls around my neck, that possessive, controlling touch I love. Our tongues duel, and I can’t get enough, addicted to his taste and the feeling of his mouth moving against mine. His smell of leather and man so comforting, making me feel like I’ve come home.

  At last he pulls back, bending slightly so his cheek rests against mine. “Fuck, Patsy. I’ve missed you.”

  “It’s only been a couple of hours,” I remind him.

  “Only?” He smiles, then pulls away and takes my hand, leading me over to his sofa, and indicating I should sit down.

  “Babe? The brothers have voted. You’re my official ol’ lady now.”

  My eyes widen. “I thought we’d wait until we knew what I was doing.”

  “We do. It’s settled. You’re mine and you’re staying with me now.”

  I grimace, wanting nothing more. “But Alder’s still out there.”

  He nods. “But now we’ve got a plan for taking him out. Before you ask, it doesn’t involve you, babe. You won’t need to play a part.”

  “But it’s dangerous?”

  The shuttered look that comes over his eyes shows he can’t hide that it might.

  For a moment, I’m undecided, and eye him carefully. I could continue to protest, but I messed up yesterday. I couldn’t go and leave him and my children behind. I’d rather die than live without them, I know that now. I could make his life difficult by insisting he step back and let this thing with Alder drop, but that would mean constantly looking over our shoulders, and Alder’s not a man to give up. If he can’t find me, he could go after my pregnant daughter, and if he discovers my son’s alive, he’d kill him for real.

  I make the only possible decision, to trust my man. My man. It has a lovely ring to it.

  So instead of protesting, I ask, “Do I get my own cut?”

  Air whooshes in through his teeth at the words he clearly didn’t expect. “Fuck, babe. You with my cut saying you’re my property?” He half closes his eyes. “I can picture it now. You, naked, wearing just my leather, and me fuckin’ you hard.”

  Seems I don’t have any objection to that. I squirm a little in the seat.

  He opens his eyes. “Must admit I thought you’d argue about the word property.”

  “Don’t forget I have a daughter who’s an old lady,” I remind him. “At first it was hard to get my head around, but it’s like a wedding ring, isn’t it? A biker promise to his old lady.”

  “You want that as well, Patsy? You want my ring on your finger and do it legally?”

  For a moment, I stare down at my hands, naked of adornment, which is how I like them. “I was married before, Lost. A ring, a marriage certificate is no guarantee of anything—no vows spoken in front of an officiant promises they’ll be followed when all the fuss dies down.”

  “My experience is pretty similar,” Lost agrees.

  “I don’t need all the trimmings now, Lost. You and me, promises given to each other, seem to mean so much more.”

  He sits down beside me, pulling me into his arms. “I will make a vow. I vow you’ll never regret this. I vow to treat you right every day, and always come home to you at night.” He pauses, then winks. “And I vow to ride you as much and as hard as my bike.”

  I chuckle, and taking his hand, bring it to my lips and kiss it. “I vow to support you as I should as your old lady and,” I release his hand, slip out of his grip and start easing myself down to the floor, “learn how to give you a blow job.”

  The effect of my words is slightly ruined by both of my knees cracking loudly as they hit the ground.

  Lost snorts, I giggle. It’s just a reminder neither of us are that young anymore.

  “Babe…”

  But any objection is swallowed as I put my hands to the buttons holding the fly of his jeans together. Undoing them, I free him from his underwear, and pull his already hard cock out.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he offers, but I can tell his heart isn’t behind his words.

  “I told you, I’ve never done this before, so I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it.”

  He leans his head back, closes his eyes, and makes me an offer. “Just do what you’re comfortable doing, Patsy. Your hands on me alone is fuckin’ incredible.”

  I’ve never spent time examining a man’s cock before. Sure I’ve felt it, sometimes Phil liked me to jerk him off, but to map it with my eyes, to realise there was an odd beauty to the organ that seemed to be stuck on to the body as an afterthought.

  Lost’s arises through a thatch of neatly trimmed grey wiry hair, in a sea of white skin. Pushing his t-shirt higher, his belly is tanned, a marked line showing where his underwear lies. His cock is a deep reddish colour contrasting with both shades of skin.

  Purple veins protrude. Feeling brave, I reach forwa
rd and lick them, tracing them with my tongue. Lost hisses. I use my hands to slide up and down his length, marvelling at his size. No wonder he makes me feel so full when he’s inside me. As I stroke him, a drop of precum appears on the tip. Feeling brave, I lick it off. It tastes salty, not too unpleasant.

  Summoning up even more courage, I put my mouth over the crown and suck.

  “Jeez!” Lost all but jumps off the couch.

  He’s far too big for me to take much of him in, but I take what I can before I feel like I’m going to gag. As I work my lips, tongue and hands simultaneously, his cock twitches and thickens.

  If he comes, do I swallow? I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

  Suddenly I feel his hands resting gently on the back of my head, guiding me as I bob up and down on his cock.

  “Babe. You have no fuckin’ idea what you’re doing to me.” His voice is thick, his words sounding forced out. “Babe, that’s fuckin’ amazing. Fuck, babe.”

  I redouble my efforts wanting to make him feel as good as he had when he went down on me. His hips are thrusting gently as he uses my mouth. That he’s enjoying what I’m doing makes me feel powerful.

  “Babe, I’m getting close. Gonna come one way or another.” His voice has gone husky and breathless.

  I’m still undecided, but knowing he’s loving the feeling of my lips around his dick, don’t want to stop or pull back. Leaving one hand on his cock which feels like velvet-covered steel, I move the other to fondle his balls, a movement that makes him breathe in deeply.

  “Babe,” he warns.

  Then he swells and warmth floods my mouth. I swallow rapidly, it’s sour, odd. Not exactly unpleasant, but not quite nice either.

  “Oh fuck me,” he breathes out. “Babe.”

  I open my eyes, not having realised I’d closed them. His eyes, half-hooded, are on mine. “Fuck.” He takes in air, his lungs rising as if he’s recovering now. He leans forward, his hands cupping my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my skin. “You look absolutely beautiful, Patsy.”

  I feel I look a mess. My eyes are watering, my cheeks are red and my lips must be swollen.

  “Thank you,” he says at length. Then, putting his strong arms around me, pulls me up to again sit beside him on the couch.

  “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  He chuckles softly. “If I were a bad man, I’d tell you you haven’t got it quite right. That you need more practice. A lot more.” He stares at me and winks. “But I’m not a bad man, so I’ll just tell you this. It was fuckin’ perfect, babe.”

  “I’m sure you’ve had better.” I have to remember he’s been with experienced whores.

  “No,” he refutes. “I know what you’re thinking, Patsy, and you’re wrong. It’s not technique, it’s not being able to deep throat a man, or whether you swallow or not. It’s the connection between two people who want to pleasure each other that makes it so good.”

  I eye him and give him an impudent grin. “Seems like the pleasure was a bit one-sided to me.”

  “Hmm,” he chuckles softly. “You’re right, I’ve been remiss.”

  He can move fast for a man of his age and size. Before I can take a second breath, I’m on my back and my pants have been torn away, along with my underwear. Then he’s returning the favour and it’s not long before he makes my hands scrabble for purchase against the cushions and I scream.

  It’s later, when we’ve both cleaned ourselves up and recovered, that he takes hold of my hand and squeezes it.

  “I’ll be late to bed tonight. Just telling you so you don’t worry.”

  “Is it anything to do with Alder?” Air whistles as I draw it in through my teeth. “Lost…”

  His free hand cups my face. “Babe, there’s going to be times that I’ll pull the club-business card, being able to say nothing more than when I expect to be back.”

  I’m starting to realise why the women in Pueblo hated those two words so much. While I know from my daughter that’s it’s for my safety as much as his, that what I don’t know can’t incriminate me, him or the club, I hadn’t realised I’m going to have to learn how to curb my tongue and not insist on him telling me exactly where he’s going and why.

  I take a deep breath and physically push all the questions bar one back down. “Are you going to get hurt, Lost?”

  “Not if I can help it, babe.”

  “Lost…”

  “Hush.” He pulls me to him again. This time our kiss isn’t ravaging, but sweet, full of emotion.

  “Come back to me, Lost.”

  I hate it at that moment. I hate it more when shortly, dressed as though he’s going on some type of raid, he leaves me. I hadn’t tried to argue with him anymore, knowing there was nothing I could say that would stop him.

  I agreed to be his old lady, to wear his property cut.

  All I can do is just hope that he comes back safely, with his club along with him.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Lost

  Christ. Patsy might have been new to the experience, but that blow job had been hot. Her hesitant fumbling had made more of an impression on me than any encounter with any of the club girls. I’d tried to hold back, preferring to come inside her, but ended up taking my own selfish pleasure. I’d given her warning, but she’d swallowed. I’m not quite sure she’ll go that far again in the future, but damn. Did I say it was hot?

  Of course, I returned the favour, which I enjoyed almost as much. Seeing the normally put together woman lose all inhibition was just as rewarding.

  Pleasant memories go through my head as I get ready for our outing tonight. Patsy’s eyes had hardened when she saw me dressing all in black, sliding knives into my belt and ankle sheath, and placing my gun in my holster, but refrained from saying another word, just pulling me close and giving me a kiss to remember.

  Now I put her out of my head and focus on what I’m doing, and currently that’s sitting in a truck a block out from the Mexican restaurant which is, hopefully, closed up for the night.

  “Pennywise?” I ask.

  Through the power of technology, he speaks right into my ear. “All clear. Looks like no one’s home at the auto-shop. All dark and quiet. Smoker’s lying low. He reported the restaurant has closed. They stayed to clean up, then left. All lights are out.” Pennywise has found a place to perch on the top of one of the high-rise buildings. Fuck knows exactly where he is, or how he managed to get there, but he can cover both premises from his spot.

  “Far as I know, Prez, everyone’s left.” Smoker’s voice comes through loud and clear.

  “I’m good to go on the security system.” Token’s disembodied voice is next, he too had gone ahead. “They’ve got cameras, but I’ve hacked in and got some footage going on a loop, and I’ve remotely disabled the alarm.”

  “You sure?” I ask.

  “We’ll soon know,” his response comes. The best I can expect.

  “Grumbler’s ready to pick the lock when you give the go ahead,” Dart informs me, his voice sounding tinny.

  “What about the auto-shop?” That’s my focus tonight.

  “I’m there now,” Token speaks again. “Basic alarm which I’ll deal with once we’re inside.”

  “Wait until we’re there as backup,” I warn him.

  “Copy that, Prez,” Token says back.

  I’ve got faith in the man, but hell, my skin prickles at the thought he may not have been successful and soon we’ll hear the blaring of alarms ringing out. For that reason, I’ve parked the truck close. Curtis will stay with it and come get us should we need to make a fast getaway. Hopefully, if they see us, they’ll just think a gang broke in to steal tools.

  Dart with Grumbler, Blaze and Kink are in another truck on the other side of the block near the restaurant. They’ve got Wrangler as a getaway driver, and I just hope he uses his brains tonight and doesn’t fuck anything up.

  “Dart? We’re ready to move.”

  “Copy that, Prez,” Dart says professionally,
then adds with more familiarity, “Take care, Lost.”

  You too, Brother. You too.

  I don’t need to tell the men to be silent. We get out of the truck, pushing the doors closed gently so they engage with just soft clicks. We certainly don’t need sounds of slamming to alert people to our presence. Curtis drives off to wait out of sight as Salem and Niran follow me around the back of the shop to the staff entrance.

  Token’s there and waiting, with him a number of high- and low-tech tools, a lockpick and skeleton key, and a device which should help reveal the combination to disable the alarm.

  I hold up three fingers, then lower them one by one.

  We’re inside.

  I hold my breath and stand back, letting Token use his skills on the device screwed to the wall. It seems a lifetime but in reality is less than a minute before he turns around. “Done, Prez.”

  I’m not the only one to exhale my breath loudly. “Okay, fan out. Look around. Pennywise, is the coast still clear?”

  “Not even a mouse moving,” he replies. With the powerful scope that he’s got he’s probably not exaggerating what he can and can’t see.

  I head to the office, Token with me. He fires up an ancient looking and grubby PC, while by the beam from my flashlight, I look through the paperwork. There doesn’t seem to be anything that shows it’s anything other than a legit business, but as a front, they’d need to be seen to be doing the work.

  I glance at Token who shakes his head. “It’s clean as a whistle, Prez. I’d guess they’re prepared if they ever have a visit from men carrying a search warrant.”

  Unless we’re wrong, and they’re legit and keep their noses clean. “Need Bones to look at anything?” He’s good at digging out financial shit that doesn’t make sense. He should be, he puts ours in order often enough.

  Token points to the screen. “Bookkeeping is good, there’s nothing to see here, Prez.”

  “Prez?” I hold my hand to my ear as Salem’s voice comes through. “Out here, in the bays. We found something.”