JUSTICE (YOUNG OUTLAWS MC Book 2)

by T L Wainwright

  “My little pixie,” I whisper.

  As I get up and start to move away from the bed, her sleepy voice takes me by surprise.

  “Stay.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Please. I’m so tired and having you near me, makes me feel safe.”

  Taking my phone and keys from the top pocket of my cut, I put them on the bedside cabinet. I shrug off the leather and lay it across the bottom of the bed, while kicking the boots off my feet.

  I suck in a deep breath, before climbing onto the bed beside her. I convince myself that if I’m wearing jeans and a tee, with the added barrier of the sheets, then what harm can there be.

  I lay for a while, listening to her breathing. Once it evens out and I’m sure she’s asleep, I cautiously get up off the bed. Standing in the doorway, I watch her closely for a few minutes, her posture still and relaxed, no longer tight with the horrors of the day. I pull the door closer leaving it a couple of inches ajar, so that I can still hear her if she wakes, before moving over to the couch.

  I sit slouched, stretching my legs out in front of me with the heels of my feet resting on the tabletop. Grabbing one of the cushions I push it behind my neck and let my head tip back.

  “What the hell have I got myself in to?” I mutter to myself.

  I’ve told myself many times over the past few months that I should cut all ties with Dana. That the idea of a high school chick and a Young Outlaw being buddies, is preposterous. But the more I interact with her, the stronger our connection, the harder it becomes to walk away. I could never find the right words that didn’t sound like I was a total jerk, and that would let her down easily.

  How can I make her understand, that I can’t keep in contact with her? When deep down, not having her in my life is unthinkable.

  The thrill that soars through my veins when I look down at my cellphone and see that it’s a message from her. The way her sweet, yet sexy voice fills my head, making my heart thump and my dick jump when we voice call. The overwhelming temptation to hop on my ride and go find her, sends me crazy to the point that only a cold shower and a jack off, can dampen down my ardor enough to function in some kinda normality.

  Little does she know what a struggle being near her is for me.

  She has me.

  I want her.

  But I can’t have her.

  I must have fallen asleep eventually, and a deep one at that, because I wake up in the same position. The smell of strong coffee wafts over from the kitchen, like a huge, curled finger beckoning me over to taste its sweet nectar.

  It’s not the coffee or the subtle sounds that makes me aware that Dana is in the kitchen. It’s instinct. Before I open my eyes, I know she’s close and despite the urge to acknowledge her, I hold back, my inner thoughts of the previous night still fresh in my mind.

  I remove my feet from the table and drop them to the floor. Moving my head from side to side while raising my arms in the air above me, I stretch out the muscles in my back, neck and shoulders, trying to alleviate some of the stiffness that has built up from my shitty sleep posture.

  “You’re awake.” Dana stands at the end of the couch, still wearing my YOMC t-shirt that covers pretty much everything, but I still can’t stop my eyes from trailing down her body to where it stops mid-thigh. I snap my gaze back up to her face before my brain gives my cock the kind of message I’m trying to avoid. “Coffee?”

  Her beautiful green eyes are full of brightness, a pink flush to her cheeks and a smile that’s almost blinding. Her pixie hair is more of a bedhead mess than her usual purposely styled one. Holy fuck, she looks as sexy as hell and ripe for fucking.

  “No thanks, I gotta head out. I have club business to take care of and I’m already running late,” I growl out. I’m not angry with her. Well I am, a little bit, because why does she have to be so damn enticing. But I’m angrier at myself for my lack of control.

  “Okay,” she replies sounding a little dejected. “You’re coming back?”

  “Yeah. I’ll bring supplies, groceries. Is there anything you might need?” I respond trying to take some of the harshness from my tone.

  “I could make a list.” She sits beside me on the couch, but my eye is instantly drawn to her legs when the hem of the t-shirt rides up exposing the creamy skin of her thighs.

  “I… gotta go,” I blurt out, standing abruptly. I go quickly to retrieve my stuff from the bedroom where I left them last night. “Send me a text and I’ll grab whatever you need,” I holler through the doorway while pushing my feet into my boots, hiking on my cut and checking I have my keys and phone.

  “It won’t take me a minute,” she offers.

  When I come out of the bedroom, she’s knelt on the couch, with her hands holding on to the back, watching me with those fucking jade green eyes that I just want to get lost in.

  “I gotta go,” I cough out, stomping my way across the room and out of the door. Only stopping long enough to make sure that its securely locked behind me.

  Chapter 12

  Mammoth

  Club business, my ass. When I do get to the club, I find myself milling around doing jack shit. I even go into the garage to see if Gearhead or Mac needs a hand working on the two old classic Fords that they’ve been fixing up to sell. Another one of Cannon’s ideas to bring money into the club and steer Pops away from the need of the Mexican deal at the same time.

  After a couple of hours of kicking shit around, my phone vibrates. It’s Dana, with a list of things that she’d like me to pick up. Potato chips, frozen burgers, breakfast cereal and a shit ton of stuff that I was planning on getting anyway.

  When Gearhead mentions the need to pick up a couple of parts that he’s been waiting on coming in at the junk yard, I offer to do the run. Taking the van gives me the perfect opportunity to detour passed Walmart to grab groceries without raising any questions.

  The good thing about Walmart is that you can get everything under one roof, so when another message comes in from Dana asking for panties and PJs, I head over to the women’s clothing aisle. The last thing I’d profess to being is a personal shopper, and I know diddly shit about dress sense. My cut is the only fashion accessory that I need. But I’ve seen quite a few pairs of panties in my life. I also know the kind that I like. The lacy ones that only cover half of their ass cheek and from the front, you’re teased with the sight of the seam of their pussy through the sheer fabric.

  I nearly lose my shit when one of the young, female assistants finds me fingering the fabric of a sexy pair in red, asking me if I need any help. So much so, that I mumble something about a gift for my girlfriend in a way of justifying as to why I’m hanging around the ladies’ section.

  By the time she’s done with me, I end up with two sets of nightwear in a silky fabric that leaves little to the imagination. Six pairs of panties in various colors, two with matching garter belt and two pairs of stockings. The latter items took me by surprise, at which I found myself shamelessly nodding with agreement to, while licking my lips. Damn, I was unintentionally playing the part of a doting boyfriend, with a promise of a hot night in the sack, without even knowing it.

  Why am I even buying this stuff? I should be grabbing big panties, neck to floor nighties that a grandmother would wear, not this sexy shit. Just the thought of seeing Dana in any of this stuff has my cock hard and aching.

  I escape the influences of the pretty assistant, before she can do any more damage to my already fragile state of mind, and make my way over to the checkouts grabbing a hand full of women’s t-shirts in small on the way. Because seeing Dana wearing mine is adding fuel to my already burning attraction to her.

  Eager to get out of this place while trying to ignore the looks and sniggers from the checkout attendant and surrounding customers, I help the bagger by throwing some of the stuff into bags.

  When at last I’m back outside, despite the humidity hitting me after being in the cool of the aircon, I sigh out my relief. Shoving most of the
bags on the seat and in the footwell of the van, I leave the back empty for the parts that still need to be picked up. When I see the Best Buy store across the way, an idea hits me, so I pull up in front of it and go inside.

  It’s about an hour later when I eventually back the van up as near as possible to the front of the cabin. Grabbing some of the bags from the front seat with one hand, I fish out my keys with the other. Pushing open the door I scan the room for Dana. My heart starts to thud when I can’t see her, but then she’s coming out of the bedroom in another one of my t-shirts. This time she’s rolled back the sleeves and tied a knot in the hem of the fabric at one side, so it fits better. Better for her. Not so good for me, because it now hugs her impressive round tits to perfection.

  I swallow hard, avert my gaze, and move over to the kitchen counter, dropping the bags on the top.

  “Hey, can you start unpacking? There’s still a couple more things I need to bring in.”

  “Sure,” she sings, as she walks up beside me. “Wow, that’s a lot of food,” she gasps after looking into a couple of the bags full of groceries.

  I grunt a noncommittal reply before going back outside to retrieve the rest of the items I’d purchased.

  “Thanks for picking up this stuff and the t-shirts and stuff are great.” She’s now sat on the couch pulling the garments out of the bag to look them over. “No PJs?”

  “No, they were all out.”

  “Shoot, guess I’ll have to keep borrowing your stuff.”

  However much I find her incredibly enticing in my shirts, it’s the lesser of two evils. The nightwear sets and matching lingerie with the stockings and garters that are currently shoved under the passenger seat of the van, would be more than I can take. So, my decision to hold them back, is purely for my own sanity.

  On my third time of walking into the cabin I’m met with a scream that I can imagine is akin to a five-year-old child’s first visit to the Bear Factory.

  “Is that a TV?” she gasps, as she drops everything and moves towards me. The task of getting the food items unpacked and stored away quickly forgotten.

  I place the large box on the floor, it clearly displays what it is on the side, the FULL HDMI in big bold letters sort of gives it away too. I straighten up and raise an eyebrow at her question.

  “Well, it could be a TV box with the corpse of someone you’ve killed earlier today. For all I know, that might be the club business that you had to take care of,” she says, air quoting the club business.

  “If that was the case, this would be the last place I’d bring the body seeing as it’s the one place I try and keep separate from the club and the Young Outlaws.”

  Her mouth drops open for a moment before she clamps it back shut. The corners of her mouth turn up into a sly curl, and her eyes hold a mischievous sparkle that has me confused, until she says.

  “I don’t know what excites me more. The arrival of the TV, or the fact that you didn’t immediately defend yourself over my accusation of killing someone.”

  “What the hell?” I snigger. “You’re one crazy chick Dana, now grab the other end of the table and help me move it over to the side.”

  “Okay, but if I break a nail, you’re paying for a manicure.”

  “If you break a nail Pixie, you’ll just have to suck it up. No nail bars in this part of town.”

  She does what I ask but not without voicing that I’m a big ass guy, with big ass muscles and surely, I could easily move it by myself.

  Once the TV is unpacked and in situ on top of the table, I adjust the couch, so it’s angled perfectly for watching. One last trip out to the van to grab the box with the DVD player and the bag full of over a dozen chick flicks and action movies, I finish setting it all up.

  “Thank you,” she hums softly, as I press play on the handset and the TV screen lights up in technicolor. “I’m not stupid though. I do know why you’ve done this. It’s so you don’t have to stay here with me, isn’t it?”

  “If the silence scares you, then you can put on a movie. I’ll make sure the generator is good. When possible, I will be back in the evening, but I have stuff I need to do, I can’t be here all the time.”

  That’s what I say, but truth is, I want to be near her every minute of the day. To see that smile on her face, to smell her scent of vanilla, macadamia nuts and bubble gum. But I can’t.

  Maybe, just maybe, the entertainment I’ve provided for her in my otherwise solitary haven, will mean that when she is on her own she might not get quite so scared by the sounds of the night and the wildlife that surrounds us.

  “I understand.” I don’t believe her because the look of rejection on her face tells me otherwise.

  “I gotta go, I should be back later. I’ll message you if things change.”

  Without another word, I walk out, securing the door behind me before taking off again in the van.

  Chapter 13

  Mammoth

  For the past two weeks, however much I’ve tried to stay away from Dana, I’ve found myself making my way back to the cabin at the end of the day. Sometimes it’s been in the early hours of the morning, only to find her asleep on the couch, the TV having shut itself down.

  Other times, we’ve shared a meal, beers and watched a movie together. Not once have we shared a bed or crossed the line like we did before. I can’t deny that the temptation is still real and that the closer we seem to be getting each day, the more profound my attraction to her is becoming and more difficult to suppress.

  Sleeping on the couch is most definitely taking its toll on me. Whatever way I lay, stretch out, or position myself, I repeatedly wake up feeling like I’ve been in a wrestling match with Masher. I need to sleep in a proper bed. So, in the middle of the night while I was yet again shifting around trying to get comfy, I made a pact with myself. Tonight, I will be spending it in my own room at the club house. A long, hot shower and a large comfortable bed is what my body needs to recuperate. Hell, I might even get Nails or Ratchet to give me a back rub to ease my aching bones.

  After taking a piss and a shower, I pull on the jean pants that I wore yesterday and go to start some coffee on the stove. When I hear the bedroom door open, and the soft, sleepy mumbling of Dana saying good morning, I offer the same back but don’t turn around until I hear the bathroom door closing.

  I keep focused on making a simple breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, all the while Dana is moving from room to room, and it’s not until she’s standing beside me that I acknowledge her further.

  I don’t want to be a rude asshole, but the sight of her first thing in the morning, all messy and bleary eyed from sleep, is the one time it’s the hardest to refrain from fucking the bones of her.

  “Mmm… That smells good,” she sighs as I hand her a plate.

  In my head, I’m thinking the very same thing, but it sure as fuck ain’t the bacon and eggs that’s teasing me.

  She takes her food and sits at the other side of the counter on one of the high stools. Standing at the opposite side, I push a hot steaming mug of coffee towards her before taking a gulp of my own. It burns a little as it goes down my throat, but it doesn’t stop me from taking another.

  “Thanks.” Her face lights up as she flashes me a smile that’s far hotter than the coffee. Her eyes slide seductively from my eyes down past my chin and fall to my chest. The tip of her tongue peeks out from between her teeth and sweeps across the edge of them, drawing my attention to the tiny gap between the top front two. It’s so fucking hot, that if I were wearing a shirt, I’m sure if would have melted right off.

  Shit, I’m not wearing a shirt. Fuck!

  I can’t take it. I need to get out of here. Holding my own plate under my chin and against my chest, I start frantically shoveling the food in as fast as I can. Once done, I drop the plate into the sink and hit the bedroom to find a clean shirt. While I pull it over my head, I fail to miss the scent of her that seems to have permeated every inch of my room.

  Damn it. This
girl is becoming absorbed into my life in more ways than I could have ever imagined, and I doubt that when the time comes, it won’t be that easy to ever let go.

  “I’m out of here,” I announce as I make a beeline for the front door. “I’ll be late, might not make it back at all, so don’t wait up.”

  Before she has time to say bye, I’m out the door and putting some distance between us.

  It’s not until later in the afternoon, while sitting and having a beer, talking shit with my brothers, that I see the news flash up on the small TV that sits at the end of the bar.

  “Even though he’s won his fight to lead the City of Orlando, not all of the newly appointed Mayor Donovan’s worries are over. With his daughter still missing, some are now questioning if the only reason he was elected was simply due to an overwhelming surge of sympathy votes.

  Will he still be able to commit and indeed achieve the promises made in his campaign, with this devastating family crisis still unresolved?

  Dana Donovan, the mayors only child, was last seen two weeks ago only minutes before their family home was broken into. Mayor Donovan is adamant that his daughter was taken from their home, along with several expensive items. Their long-term housekeeper, Maria Santino was beaten, tied and gagged, leaving her terrified and fearing for her life.”

  “What the fuck?” I growl, slamming my fist on the bar at hearing the lies that are being fed by the press.

  “What’s up man?” Mac asks at my outburst. “You okay.”

  “Yeah, can’t believe that fucking Donovan made Mayor.”

  “Yeah, personally, I don’t trust the fucker.”

  I zone back in on the rest of the new report.

  “When history tells us the chance of finding someone alive after 72 hours are greatly reduce, you can’t help but sympathize with the Mayor and his wife, especially with tomorrow marking their daughters eighteenth birthday. With Dana’s hopes and dreams of studying Politics at Gainesville University in the fall, you can’t help but wonder if she will even make it to campus.”