by Eden Rose
Taming The Bear
A Lucifer’s Lair Novel
Eden Rose
Dear Reader:
Whew! I hope you are ready for this wild and hot ride. The Lucifer’s Lair Motorcycle Club is full of alpha males with women that hang around with smart mouths.
XOXO,
Eden Rose
Copyright © 2016 by Eden Rose
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Taming The Bear
Prologue
I pull into the fake drop about ten minutes before I was supposed to be here. I hop off of my bike after I park it towards the tree brushes and then walk around the warehouse. I have a feeling that someone in my club is fucking with me and I need to flush out the rat.
About three weeks ago, I noticed that some of the numbers weren’t adding up in the club’s books. I also found out that some of our product is being tested without my permission. But the one thing that bothers me the most, is that I can’t trust my brothers.
After emailing myself a bunch of different things about a drop and then the email address confirming that drop, I began to set the plan in motion. It’s a sneaky way of flushing out the poison that is affecting my club but I needed to do it. I need to know who I can and can not trust.
In the Lucifer’s Lair, I am the president and what I say goes. I can’t have members of the brotherhood doubting my next moves and then staging a coup to get me overthrown. I need to be able to trust that my brothers have my back and they won’t try to kill me to advance themselves.
We might be outlaws living in the 1% of the population, but we have rules and regulations just like any society. My brothers and men will abide by these rules to avoid fucking anarchy that will happen if things go sideways. And I will be the one held responsible if it does.
I completely came out here on my own and didn’t tell anyone where I was going because I needed to see what would happen. I needed to see if one of them will show up or if someone else will show up here to try and take a drop. The last thing that I need is for someone to steal drugs or guns from me and my club.
There is nothing out of the ordinary around the warehouse and I’m feeling semi-comfortable with the fact that no one is here trying to mess with me. I check my cell to make sure that I still have time before I walk into the warehouse. Perfect. There’s still five minutes left before the “drop” is supposed to happen.
Things haven’t always been like this. You know, the sneaking around and being paranoid as shit. I know you probably think that I’m just a paranoid president who thinks everyone is out to get me. I don’t think it’s everyone just a majority of the outside population.
I’m not a well-liked man and I never have been. There’s nothing wrong with knowing who you are as a person and as a leader. I would rather have the respect that I deserve than be someone’s little bitch.
Just as I’m walking into the warehouse, I hear the loud pipes of Harleys as they pull into the parking lot area. The warehouse is abandoned and no one uses it so it became ideal to use. Which means, it wouldn’t be coincidental that four custom Harleys pulled up around the time of this drop.
I walk towards the edge of the huge empty main room and wait for something. Anything that would show me who was out there or if it were my guys.
“Is he here yet?” A growly voice asks someone else. I can hear their footsteps as they get closer to the bay door. “I don’t see his mother fuckin’ bike, dude. Did we just get played?”
There’s the sound of someone getting smacked upside the head that makes me roll my eyes. “Will you shut the fuck up?”
Another set of heavy footprints crunches the gravel that is on the driveway and I wait to see if it’s someone’s voice that I recognize. When they don’t say anything, I look out the window to see if they’re still out there. There are these little windows that are about my height off the ground which makes it easier for me to look outside.
I don’t see anything besides darkness out there. I creep to the other window about five feet away and see if I can see anyone from that window. Nope. What the hell?
Then I hear it.
The sound of a match being struck across the side. The fizzle of something being lit that doesn’t want to be. And then the crashing sound of the fizzle being thrown through the window that I was just at two seconds ago.
“Go! Go! It’s going to blow! We gotta get outta here!” One of the voices yells and then I hear the pounding of their footprints against the rough gravel.
“Stupid, arrogant mother fucker, didn’t even realize that he was getting set up!”
The fizzle is actually a homemade bomb that people make in their basements. It’s nothing that I haven’t seen and it’s pretty amatuer. I walk over to it and then pick it up to diffuse it before it blows up. Once I have it in my hand, I try to do that but it beeps and then smokes some more.
My nose and my throat begin to fill up with smoke and I try to limit my breathing so I don’t ingest anymore than I already had. I throw it on the ground before the smoke gets worse and I run towards the door to get out. My hand is resting over the handle and I’m about to open it just in time for the explosion.
I yank the door open and then run out of the warehouse before it’s too late and I choke on smoke. Since no one is supposed to know that I’m here, I wouldn’t have anyone to come get me or know that I’m gone.
Also, it’s enough to confirm my suspicion. Someone is trying to stage a coup and life as I knew it, was over.
The explosion is a lot bigger than I anticipated from the tiny homemade bomb. All of the windows have cracked open and there’s smoke billowing out of them forming black clouds. The roof that was once on the warehouse has a big fucking hole in it from the impact. Also, right where I was just standing, before I ran to my bike, is nothing but a smoke cloud.
“Mother fucker!” I yell out in the night.
I’m pissed off as I ride my bike back to the clubhouse that I stay at. All I keep thinking about is who would try to kill me like that? Who has the umph to pull something like this off? Someone would have had to hack into my emails and then stalk those emails to see when I would respond.
By the time I pull into the driveway to the clubhouse, I’m fuming fucking mad. Someone is messing with me and it’s going to end. I will not have one of my brothers go behind my back and try to blow me up with a bomb because they don’t like something I said or done. Coups are messy and it’s only going to get messier.
“Hey, Bear!” Smokey calls out to me while walking out of the main part of the clubhouse with a fly on his arm.
We call the girls that only come by to get some ass or to live up their sexual fantasies: flies. This means they jump from brother to brother in hopes that one of them would wife up. Rarely, and I mean rarely, do any of these flies get what they want.
I tilt my head to him and walk past him. I’m not in the mood for small chat nor am I in the mood to deal with him and some hussy that is only sleeping with him to sleep with me. This is something that I have seen numerous times and it’s not new. One of the flies will sleep with a lower ranking brother and then work their way up the totem pole until they get to me.
Of course, if they wanted to make it like a gift for me, I would pr
efer fresh pussy instead of used up pussy.
Mack Truck comes running up to me with two beers in his hands and hands me one. “You look like you could use this,” he says.
I take the bottle out of his hand and then chug the contents of it. Damn right, I needed that and about four more. I drop the bottle on the floor and get a minor satisfaction from the glass shattering. “Thanks, man.”
He takes a big sniff of me and then he coughs. “Dude, you been smokin’ some mad shit!” He waves his hand in the air.
“Get one of the probes to clean that bottle up. Also, I want all these fuckin’ flies to get out.” I shrug him off and then go to my room. I need a hot shower and a plan to get this shit taken care of. The problem is, I can’t trust anyone in the club so I can’t ask any of them to help. I have to find an outsider.
Chantal
“But, you’re the best. Right? So many people have recommended you. All I need you to do is meet with this guy and listen to what he has to say,” Craig begs me as he leans against my desk with his thigh.
I shake my head and shuffle the papers that are on my desk so they are in a neat order. “No. I have to start taking on legitimate clients if I ever want to be considered something more than just a shark.”
He looks up at the ceiling and then back at me. “He’s offering to pay you twenty-five hundred dollars in cash for a meeting. Are you seriously telling me that you can’t accept that? That’s not a legitimate client?”
The asshole has a point and I could really use that money right now. Starting my own business has drained every account I have. “What does he want me to do? Search through his wife’s emails to see if she’s cheating on him? Hack into his computer to see all the money that she could be spending on something other than being with him?”
“No, actually I need your help on something completely different.”
Standing in my doorway to my office is a leather vested god in worn out jeans. The jeans hug his thighs but are loose enough to make him look sexy. His hair has the bed head look to it and that full beard of his, is making my mouth water. My eyes greedily take him in as he walks into my office that I just created to make myself seem more credible and it seems awfully small now that he’s in here.
The man is a bear. Clearly, he ate all of his vegetables and he’s looking delicious. Like chocolate ice cream with fudge on top. Enough to make my mouth water.
“Excuse me, did you have an appointment?” I ask and stand up to my full height of 5’1. This man towers over me and he knows it. There is no way in hell that he’s intimidated by me but it doesn’t mean that I’m not going to try.
The man in leather puffs out his chest a little and then sticks his hand out to shake mine. He’s completely invaded my space and I’m not about to tell him to get out.
Why? Because I don’t want him to leave. Actually, I want to strip him out of that vest and rub my hands down his broad chest that is barely contained by it. I can see the whorls of ink that are visible from the plain tee that he’s wearing and it’s making me even hotter.
His chiseled jaw has the right amount of five o’clock shadow to show me that he’s a man. As he rips off his helmet, he shakes some long dark blond hair out and my pussy is hungry. The bottom of his hair is brushing against his shoulders and my fingers are itching to dig in his hair.
Jesus!
“No, I don’t have an appointment. Are you Chantal Phillips?”
I nod my head cautiously and then stop right away. “Who’s asking?” This is how people get mauled and robbed by admitting who they are. There’s no telling the amount of people that I have probably pissed off recently.
With a quick shake of my head, I fluff my pink hair with silver ends out over my shoulders. My hair is my pride and joy and I have spent a long time mastering this style.
He smirks in a knowing way but then schools his face. “Chantal, my name’s Joe Montague. I need your help with some very private shit. You’re Chantal, right?”
I look over at Craig who is watching our exchange like he would be watching a tennis match. “Craig, give me a moment with Mr. Montague.”
When Craig doesn’t budge, Joe steps in between myself and Craig. “I believe the lady asked you to do something.”
Before I could interject, Craig is walking out of my office with his tail between his legs. “That was rude,” I murmur to him and then sit back down behind my desk. Hopefully the wood of the desk will keep me from humping this man.
I say that it’s rude, but it doesn’t mean that his attitude doesn’t make him even more desirable to me.
“I fucking can’t stand it when guys don’t listen to what a girl says.”
Swoon!
“Well, here we are. Go ahead and take a seat. I will discuss with you my rates and everything.”
I wait for him to take a seat and his jeans stretch to fit over his fit thighs. My eyes stare shamelessly at the stretch over his crotch by the jeans. Joe sticks his left foot out and rests it on his right knee and he gets comfortable.
The presence of Joe is larger than life. Hell, I’ve known him for two minutes and I already like him in my space like this.
“Whatever your payment is, I will cover it. Here’s the thing though…”
My mind begins to wonder what this thing is that he’s thinking of. Is he going to say I have to sleep with him? I’m not going to lie, it’s a good possibility that I might just throw myself at him if I were given the chance to do that. “What is it?” I ask. I instantly berate myself for sounding so breathy as I asked that. All I need is for this cocky man to think I’m attracted to him.
“While you are working for me, you are exclusively my employee. I can’t have you working with others.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I blurt out and then slap my hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I was so unprofessional right there.
Joe begins to laugh at me and it's a husky, deep laugh. He reaches over the desk and takes my hand off of my mouth and touches my lips with his fingertips. A tidal wave of heat flows through me. He sets my hand down on the desk and takes his hand back into his lap. This man is so big that he’s literally making my chair seem like a highchair or something.
He’s big enough to ride like a bull.
“Let’s just say that I could probably be taken out just by talking to you about this.”
I roll my eyes to show that I’m unaffected by his crypticness. “Quit beating around the bush and tell me right now what you’re talking about.”
“I like a woman that tells me how it is,” he winks at me.
Unfortunately, my face blushes and I feel as if I’m three shades of red. “My fee is a hundred an hour. I require that you pay a retainer for my work and then cover mileage that is needed to go where I need to.”
I’m an asshole because I totally raised my price by fifty an hour but I’m wanting him to drop this act and tell me what he wants. Little does he know that I would probably take less than a hundred for an hour.
Joe looks at me and purses his lips for a moment and all I could think about was those lips on me. All over my skin and tasting me. “Not a problem.” Before I could blink, he’s digging into his vest pocket and pulls out a wad of money then drops it on the table. “Here’s twenty-five hundred. This is just a deposit. Now that you see I have the funds, are you willing to listen to what I need?”
I gulp as my eyes count the bills in the stack. Shit! That’s real legit money and I don’t even care if it’s dirty. I’m a private investigator after all. All of my money is dirty. Dirtier the better. “Yeah, I’m willing to listen.”
“Good. I need you to pay attention to everything I say because nothing can be written down or recorded. You get me?”
My eyes roll and it’s my turn to shrug. “Yeah, I got it. Now, tell me what you need and why you have twenty-five hundred dollars in your vest.” My curious mind is going to get me in trouble one of these days.
Immediately, Joe starts laughing at me an
d the sound is enough to jump start my heart. “You called it a vest! Oh god! That’s great.”
I jump a little in my seat and then I gawk at him as he rubs his hands over the sewed on patches. “What else would you call it? It’s a vest.”
“Oh, baby. You kill me. It’s a cut.”
I squint my eyes and then flick my pink hair behind my ear. “No, it’s a vest.”
Joe leans on his elbows so he’s leaning over the desk to look me in the eyes and I can see the dark green of his irises. He’s got amazing eyes and even more beautiful skin. I can feel my eyes expand to take him all in. “I’m president of Lucifer’s Lair. It’s a motorcycle club on the outside of town. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
Of course I’ve heard of it. I haven’t been living under a rock for the past twenty plus years of my life. “You guys are said to be responsible for spreading meth through the city and guns.”
