Gunnar: A Motorcycle Club Romance

by Nina Levine

  The guys don’t say much, but I don’t expect them to. They all lift their chin at me in greeting, and I take that as their welcome back.

  Scott pulls me and Mason aside, though, and surprises the hell out of me.

  “I want to thank you for what you did for the club,” he says. “You took our back and I won’t ever forget it.”

  “Thank you for saying that.”

  He nods and eyes Mason before looking back at me. “I took care of your problems with the cops.”

  I frown. “My problems?”

  “Yeah, over Hearst’s disappearance. They won’t bother you about that again.”

  I stare at him as I realise what he’s saying. And I’m so fucking grateful to him for doing this. “I appreciate that.”

  “If you need anything else, come see me,” he says before leaving us.

  I look at Mason. “I don’t really need to know, but how did he get the cops to look away?”

  He takes his time answering me, to the point where I don’t expect him to. And I get it. Club business stays between the club. But finally, he says, “Like you said, Joe was tied up with the mafia. They’re looking at two guys the mafia sent to threaten Hearst. Apparently they killed someone for Hearst who was threatening his brother and didn’t like it when Hearst tried to cut ties with them.”

  Oh my God.

  The crime his father wanted him to commit.

  That has to be it.

  I really was married to the devil.

  I wrap my arms around Mason and press my head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I find it soothing. I always have. I also find it soothing when he puts his arms around me and holds me tightly to him, which he does now. We stay like this for a few minutes. It’s like he senses I need this, so he gives it to me without question. And when I finally look up at him, and say, “Thank you for saving me,” he simply nods and says, “I’ll always save you, Mayfair.”

  I know he will.

  Mason Blaise was born to be my saviour, my protector, my hero.

  And I was born to be his girl.

  37

  Gunnar

  “Are you trying to kill me, woman?” I ask Chelsea when I come home from work and find her dressed in the tightest red dress I’ve ever fucking seen.

  She smiles. “No, but I think that means I’ve achieved my goal.”

  “If your goal was to get me hard, then you’ve fucking achieved it.” I run my eyes over her tits and down her body, deciding to move my plans to fuck her from later this evening to right fucking now.

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  I bring my hands to her hips. “The fuck why?”

  “Because we’re going on a date.”

  “A date?” Chelsea and I don’t do dates. We never have.

  She smacks my hands away from her body. “Yes, a date. You need to go and shower and get ready.”

  I arch my brows. I fucking like her bossiness, but I’m not fucking letting on about that. “Do I now?”

  “Yes.”

  “And where are we going? Do I need to get fancy for this?”

  “We’re going out for dinner. Wear whatever you want.”

  There’s something about her tonight that makes me do as she’s asked.

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going? I ask as I walk out of the bedroom, showered, and dressed, fifteen minutes later.

  “Somewhere special,” she says, giving me nothing.

  “And how the fuck am I going to get us there if you don’t tell me where?”

  “You’re not in charge of getting us there. I’ve hired a limo.”

  This night has just taken a turn I’m fucking into. However, Chelsea reads me in the way she always fucking reads me and shakes her head. “I’m not fucking you in the limo on the way to dinner, so get that thought out of your head.”

  It’s been a month since she moved back in, and after she healed from her beating, I haven’t been able to keep my hands off her. If she thinks she’s got any fucking chance of keeping me away in this limo, she needs to fucking think again.

  Her phone sounds with a text, and after reading it, she says, “The limo’s almost here.”

  We head outside as the limo pulls up at our place. Five minutes later, we’re on our way to wherever Chelsea’s taking us, and I’m about to get her on my lap. However, my plans go out the window when she turns her body to mine and says, “Tell me a favourite.” When Chelsea wants to play this game, nothing can distract or stop her.

  “This fucking dress for one.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Tell me a proper one, Mason. I’m being serious here.”

  And so the fuck am I, but I sense something going on here, something deeper that I haven’t clued onto yet, so I give her what she’s asked for. “Watching you read on the beach with the sound of the waves in the background and the sun on you.”

  Her eyes widen a little. With surprise and with pleasure. She slides closer to me and takes hold of my hand. “I like it when you give me your favourites.”

  “I’ll be fucking honest, and it’s not just because I’m a horny fucking bastard, but one of my favourite favourites is you sitting in my lap. Doesn’t matter if I’m fucking you or not, I fucking like you there and I wish you were there right fucking now.”

  She moves before I’ve even finished talking, giving me what I want. As her hand slips around my neck, she says, “Do you want to know one of my favourites?”

  “I wanna know all your favourites, baby.”

  She bites her lip as she gives me one of those sexy smiles of hers I love. “Coming home to you every night. Cooking dinner with you every night. Laughing with you every night. Sleeping in your arms every night.” She presses her lips to mine and kisses me. It’s slow and it’s filled with promises I’m yet to know. But I know for damn sure that Chelsea will make good on all those promises during our lifetime. When she drags her lips from mine, she says, “I want 27000 more nights with you. And I want my most favourite favourite to be the fact you are my husband.” She pauses. “Will you marry me, Mason Blaise?”

  Fuck. Me.

  I fucking love this woman.

  Tightening my hold on her, I say, “I would marry you right fucking now if I could, because my favourite favourite will be growing old with you. I don’t know how the fuck you figure the 27000 nights, but I fucking need every one of them with you.”

  Her lips are back on mine and with the way she kisses me, I should be given a fucking medal for not tearing her fucking dress off and slamming my dick inside her right fucking now.

  It turns out, though, that my bride-to-be is as horny as her future husband, and before I know what the fuck’s happening, she’s got my jeans undone and my dick in her hand while trying to wiggle her dress up.

  “Maybe next fucking time you decide you wanna propose to me in the back of a limo, you could plan ahead and wear a dress that’s not so fucking tight,” I say as I yank it up.

  “You are so fucking grumbly sometimes,” she says, dragging my mouth back to hers.

  I take hold of her ass as she sits on my dick.

  “Oh God,” she says, letting my lips go again. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Her fingers dig into my biceps as she starts fucking me.

  “You’re telling me I get to fuck you at least 27000 more times?”

  “Well, that depends on whether you can still get it up at one hundred, because that math roughly figures us living until then.”

  I grin. “Give me some fucking credit, Mayfair. I’ll still be getting it up then.”

  “Maybe we should get extra in while you’re younger, just to be sure.”

  I thrust harder into her. “Maybe you should have some fucking faith in your husband.”

  “Oh, fuck,” she moans as I take control of this fuck. “You’re not my husband yet.”

  “I don’t give a fuck if it’s not official. Calling myself that is my new fucking favourite.”

  She wraps her arms around me and squeezes her cunt a
round my dick as she says, “I fucking love to hear your favourites, but not while you’re fucking me. Can you finish the damn job and then tell me all your fucking favourites?”

  “Fuck your mouth is filthy these days,” I mutter before getting the damn job done.

  After we come, she kisses me slowly. Lazily. So damn sexily. Threading her fingers through my hair, exactly how I fucking love it, she says, “I wasn’t going to propose until after dinner.”

  I wrap my arms around her. “What happened?”

  She smiles. “You happened. You always happen. I lose my mind when I’m with you. In all the best ways.”

  “Can I ask now where you’re taking me for dinner?”

  She continues with her fingers in my hair. “I booked the room in the hotel where this all started.”

  “The room we got trapped in?”

  “Yes. I hired a caterer to make your favourite food and I rented a hotel room for the night.”

  “You fucking love me.”

  She kisses me again before saying, “Yeah, baby, I fucking do.” She pauses. “Tell me.”

  I bring my lips to hers and show her what she wants to hear.

  I show her the love I feel so fucking deeply I might drown in it one day.

  I show her the loyalty I will have for her until the fucking day I die.

  I show her the commitment I’m making to her for life.

  And when I end the kiss, I tell her the words I will whisper in her ear for 27000 more nights. “I fucking love you, Mayfair.”

  Epilogue

  Gunnar

  “Chelsea is positively radiant today,” my mother says as I watch my wife scoop our son up off the beach and walk my way.

  The sun in her eyes causes her to squint.

  It causes my breathing to falter for a second.

  Chelsea has never looked more beautiful to me than she does today and that’s fucking saying something, because not a day has passed without her looking beautiful.

  She discovered she’s pregnant again today.

  I don’t know if that’s what’s done it for me. Knowing she’s carrying my child again. But fuck me, she’s fucking glowing, and the sun shining on her only intensifies her beauty.

  Dragging my gaze from her, I look at Mum. She’s been in remission from her cancer for just over two years now and divorced from my father for one year. The day she told me she was leaving him was one of the best fucking days of my life. Or as I tell Chelsea, one of my favourite fucking favourites.

  “She’s pregnant again,” I say, even though Chelsea and I agreed to keep this news to ourselves for a little while. I know she won’t mind Mum knowing, though. She loves my mother with all her heart. Tells me she’s the mother she never had, which blows my damn mind some days when I think about the mother I knew growing up. She wasn’t a bad mother, but she wasn’t the woman she is today. She didn’t love so freely during my childhood. Something happened to her during her cancer journey and she’s like a new woman. One who has learned to love without conditions.

  “Oh my goodness, that is wonderful news.”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  My phone sounds with a message notification.

  Alexa: I’m on my way. Should be there in an hour or so. Don’t let Calder take my parking spot.

  Me: Good fucking luck if he arrives before you.

  Calder: I’m almost there, Alexa. I’ll be sure to save you the spot next to yours.

  Alexa: You suck and I will quit my job if you take my spot.

  Calder: I’ll accept that as your notice and find a replacement this afternoon.

  Alexa: *pokes tongue*

  Me: Put your tongue away. I’ll tell Chelsea you want your spot guarded. She’ll pull Calder into line more than I can.

  Hayden: I’m just pulling in now. Tell that woman of yours to come give me a hug.

  Me: I’m not fucking letting her near you after the last time you two got drunk together.

  Alexa: OMG OMG OMG is she pregnant? Tell me she is!!!!

  Jesus fuck, how my sister knows shit is beyond me.

  Alexa: I’m taking your silence as a big fat YES and I am here for it!

  Adam: I’d take his silence as his death notice. And the poor fucker didn’t even announce anything he shouldn’t.

  Me: Maybe we could keep this secret between the five of us? Chelsea and I agreed to keep it quiet for a bit.

  Calder: I’m putting a hundred on Alexa failing at that.

  Hayden: No one’s gonna bet against you, Calder.

  Adam: True.

  Alexa: I hate you all. You all suck. I can keep a secret.

  Me: Fuck it, you can’t. I’ll tell Chelsea you figured it out.

  Chelsea reaches Mum and me and leans in for a kiss before passing our son over. We’re in Port Douglas for our yearly family holiday, the one we started a tradition of after giving that first Port Douglas holiday to Alexa as a birthday present. This is our third time here. This year, we’re also celebrating Christian’s first birthday.

  “He needs his nappy changed,” Chelsea says as I press a kiss to Christian’s head.

  “Here, let me take him,” Mum says. “I need all the time I can get with my grandson this week.”

  Mum is one of those grandmothers who dotes like fuck on her grandchildren, and since Christian is her only one, she detests having to share him. And she has to share him, because Chelsea never went back to work after having him and also doesn’t like to share him. It’s a good fucking thing these two get on so well or I’d have my fucking hands full managing them.

  I pull Chelsea into my arms after Mum leaves us. Resting my hands on her ass, I run my eyes down her body, appreciating the fuck out of her green bikini. “You should wear this more often at home.”

  She reaches up and laces her fingers through my hair. “Should I serve you your dinner in it after you get home from a long day at work?”

  I grin. “See this is why I married you. You read my fucking mind at times.”

  “Baby, let’s be real. You married me so you’d have 27000 guaranteed orgasms.”

  “And I’m fucking behind on them. You need to start putting out some more.”

  “You need to stop getting me pregnant then.”

  “You fucking love being pregnant.”

  She smiles. “I fucking do.”

  I drop my lips to hers and claim the kiss I’ve wanted since this morning when Christian interrupted us. I take my time and am hard as fuck when I’m done. “Jesus, I fucking need you, Mayfair. It’s been two fucking days.”

  “I can’t help it if your son wears me out. Honestly, sleep feels way more important at the moment.”

  I tighten my hold on her. This woman has no idea how fucking much I need her. She might think she does, but she doesn’t. “So fucking long as it doesn’t become your only favourite.”

  She brings her mouth back to mine for a long, lazy, sexy kiss. The kind I would sell my soul for. “Fucking you will always be above sleep on my favourite list.”

  “Mum will take Christian for the night.”

  Her eyes light up. “So we can sleep?”

  “Smartass,” I mutter, bending my mouth to her neck and biting her lightly. “Trust me when I say there won’t be much fucking sleep happening. I have to make the most of this time before you have the baby. I’m pretty fucking sure that if you’re tired now, you’re not gonna make good on meeting those 27000 orgasms I’m owed when you’ve got two kids.”

  “You’re such a grumpy ass. Don’t you know marriage is about the valleys and the peaks?”

  “The fucking what and what?”

  “The highs and lows. So we’ll have some low years. We’ll back that up with some high ones.”

  I kiss a trail from her collarbone back to her mouth. “Let’s make our marriage about the peaks and the peaks. We’ll just have high years all the fucking way around.”

  She smiles and it settles deep in my gut. Bringing her hands down to my face, she holds me and says, “I
love you, Mason Blaise, but I didn’t ask you to marry me thinking we’d sail through it on one long high. I asked you to marry me because I knew you were the only man who’d make it through 27000 nights with me regardless of whether we were in a valley or a peak.”

  Fuck. Me.

  My wife never fails to remind me she’s the fucking shit.

  “Tell me,” I say.

  She keeps smiling. “No, you tell me first.”

  I grip her like I’m never letting go. “I fucking love you.”

  “Yeah, baby, you fucking do. But I love you more, and don’t you fucking forget it.”

  Hayden takes this moment to cut the fuck in on my time with my wife. “Pregnancy looks good on you, Chelsea.”

  She looks at me, her brows arched. “I thought we were keeping this between us for a while?”

  “Fuck,” I mutter, shooting daggers at my fucking brother.

  Hayden grins. “You should know by now there’s no such thing as a secret in our family.”

  Chelsea shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “Yeah, Hayden, I do.”

  I lean in and brush my lips over her ear, murmuring, “Peaks and valleys, Mayfair. Peaks and fucking valleys.”

  She shakes her head again. “You’re lucky I love those muscles of yours, Mr Blaise.”

  “And you’re fucking lucky I keep them up for you.”

  The grin she gives me right before leaving me to hug my brother is sexy as fuck and hits me deep in my gut. “We both know you’d do anything for me,” she says.

  I watch her ass all the fucking way to my brother.

  She’s fucking right. I would do anything for her, because any valley with her by my side is better than any peak without her.

  Thank you so much for reading GUNNAR. I hope you loved it as much as I loved writing it.

  My next Storm book out will be WILDER. I know so many of you have been waiting patiently for his book. It’ll be out this year! I have pre-orders up on all sites with the release date set for the end of December. I’m actually hoping to release it sooner than that. As soon as I have a confirmed date, I will email it out and post it all over social media.