Loving Liv
A Chaos MC Novel (Book 2)
By Cameron Hart
Chapter 1:
Liv
“This is it, baby cakes. Your chance at a normal life. It all starts today with this new job. So don’t fuck it up.”
I pull my long, black hair into a loose pony tail, letting a few strands of hair frame my face, and stare at myself in the mirror, finishing up my little pep talk. Hazel eyes stare back at me, lined with black and topped with a smoky eye and a thick layer of mascara. I put on another layer of deep red lipstick, rub my lips together, and blow myself a kiss in the mirror.
Some women wear make-up to feel good about themselves or to attract others. Not me. I wear make-up like war paint. Life’s a fucking battle from womb to tomb and the only way to survive is to put up walls and paint them with Jungle Red matte lipstick.
I grab my purse and slip on my favorite pair of chucks – maroon – before heading out of my apartment to catch the bus.
It’s my first shift at the Chaos Clubhouse. It’s a biker bar on the outskirts of town, and I’ll be slinging beers there five days a week.
I got the job offer totally out of the blue. It was actually my third day in Sausalito, California, and I was attempting to open a bank account. Apparently, you need 72 forms of identification and a signature from the president of the United States to open a basic checking account around here. I left my last place in a bit of a hurry, so I didn’t have my social security card, no passport to speak of, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen my birth certificate. I have a driver’s license, and that’s about it.
Once we got through the initial identification crisis, the snobby teller said I needed a home address. Only problem was… I was at a motel for the time being. I was looking at apartments and found a few promising ones, but they wanted a deposit in the form of a check. Hence, me coming to the bank. I can’t get a check without an address, and I don’t have an address because I can’t get a check. You can see how I might be a little frustrated.
I may or may not have had a few choice words for the prissy, uptight man sitting behind the counter. It’s not that I hate all men. It’s that I hate most men, especially when they look at me like I’m garbage and try to lord whatever perceived power they have over my head. So yeah, this little fuckwad was pissing me off.
After we sorted out the whole address situation, I deposited the $3,500 I had in cash, stuffed into an envelope in the bottom of my purse. It was everything I had to my name.
I turned around and headed towards the door, very much ready to be out of the stuffy bank, when a woman approached me.
“That’s some sass you’ve got, honey.” The voice belonged to a woman in her early forties. She was lovely, with wavy brown hair and soft, warm brown eyes to match. “You new to town?”
I nodded.
“Looking for a job?”
Another nod.
“Good. I’m looking for a bartender. It’s at a biker bar, so the crowd can get a little rough. Looks like you can handle pricks though, so the job is yours if you want it.” She said pricks a little louder than the rest of her sentence and glared over at the asshole who I’d been dealing with.
“Aren’t you going to ask for a resume? Or references? Or if I’m even old enough to serve alcohol?”
The lady shrugged. “Like I said, it’s a biker bar. If you can pour beer and whiskey, you’re golden. I’m more concerned about attitude, and girlie, you’ve got it in spades.” She gave me the once over. “As far as your age… Well, if you’re old enough to carry around thousands of dollars in cash and go toe to toe with this asshole,” again, loud, and again, accompanied by a glare in his direction, “Then you’re old enough to serve. It doesn’t really matter. We pay under the table. You good with that?”
“Perfect.”
“I’m Stacy. And you are…?”
“Olivia. But you can call me Liv.”
She shook my hand and gave me a business card for the bar.
Which brings us to today. My first day.
I hop off the bus and walk the five blocks to the bar. As expected, there are a line of motorcycles parked outside.
At least I know I’m in the right place.
I straighten my shoulders, take a deep breath, and open the door.
It’s about what you’d expect – dim lights, a mix of tables and booths, and of course the bar top, featuring drafts and bottles, along with a lot of hard liquor, mostly whiskey and tequila I see. There’s an old jukebox and a stage in the back – I wonder if they do karaoke – I smile at the thought of big, burly bikers crooning to Carrie Underwood’s Before He Cheats.
“What’s got you smiling, beautiful?”
A deep, smooth voice breaks into my thoughts. I turn and see the most attractive man to walk the face of the planet. No, attractive isn’t the right word. Gorgeous? Stunning? Delicious? Fuckable? Yes. Yes to all. He has sharp green eyes that crinkle at the corner when he smiles. His dark brown hair is a little long and unruly, but in that effortlessly sexy kind of way. He has a strong nose that compliments his strong jaw, dusted with a neat and close-trimmed beard. And his body. Good god. Even in jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket, I can tell this guy is built. Not over the top, gym rat kind of built. He’s sculpted for sure. I bet he has a six pack and a well-defined V…
Snap out of it. It’s not like you’ve never seen a hot guy before. Fuck.
I put on my game face – the one I wear when talking to pretty much everyone, especially guys to look like him. I narrow my eyes and pull my lip up on one side, giving a sexy grin. It’s not flirty per se. It’s confident. It shows him I’m not shy or afraid or any of those other weak, fucked up emotions. It shows him I’m every bit his equal. Or, at least, that’s what I hope it shows.
“Oh, I was just wondering what kind of karaoke songs hard-ass bikers sing when they’re wasted,” I say, nodding towards the stage.
He grins and it’s sexy as fuck. “Karaoke, huh? What do you think I’d sing?”
“Easy. Party In The USA by Miley Cyrus,” I say, completely deadpan.
He bursts out laughing and I practically gush in my panties.
What the fuck, Liv?
“Well, you’ve got me pretty much all figured out then,” he smiles, looking me up and down. I usually hate when guys check me out. That’s not true. I usually don’t give a fuck. What you see is what you get, I’m not trying to dress for no man. Not anymore. When this guy does it, however, I wonder what he thinks of me. “What’s your go-to karaoke song then?”
“No Scrubs.” I wink at him and make my way past him to the bar where Stacy told me to meet her.
He just stands there and stares after me, rubbing his beard. A chuckle falls from his lips. His soft, pink, bitable lips.
Goddamnit, woman. Keep your legs closed.
“Liv!” Stacy waves me over and saves me from my thoughts that were quickly turning dirty. “Glad to see you. I thought maybe you’d bail.”
“Nope, I’m a woman of my word. Plus, I’ve never gotten a job offer based on how well I chewed someone out. I had to come and see this place for myself.”
Stacy gives me an unexpected hug. I stiffen up, not sure what to do in this situation. I don’t like physical touch. It makes me uncomfortable at best, and at worst, sends me into a fucking panic attack.
She must sense my discomfort and pulls back. “Sorry, honey. I’m a hugger.”
“No, it’s ok. I’m just… not used to it I guess.” I try to give her a smile but I’m not sure I pulled it off.
“Well, anyway. This is it. Pretty simple. Beers, shots, inventory, cleaning, you get the idea. We’re a family here. I know that’s cliché, but it’s really true. Glad to have
you here, Liv.”
“Thanks. I’m… I’m really glad to be here.” It’s true. I don’t know what home feels like, or family, for that matter, but I like it here. “I guess I’ll get to it, then.”
Stacy nods. “I’ll join you in a minute. Gotta go check on my man.”
I step behind the bar and throw on an apron. Guess who my first customer is?
“Can I get a whiskey, love?” I cringe at his nickname.
“It’s pronounced, Liv.”
He grins that stupidly sexy grin and I can’t help but smile back.
“Whatever you say, love. Bulleit Rye whiskey. Make it a double.”
I get the glass and the whiskey, pour him a generous shot, and slide it in front of him.
“It must be pretty serious if you’re shooting whiskey at 3 pm,” I say. I know I shouldn’t engage him, but that’s what bartenders do, right? Chat up the customers and play therapist?
“Naw, I just don’t do anything half-heartedly. Why get buzzed on half a dozen beers when a double shot will do the trick? Quick, tidy, efficient.”
“Is that what they say about you in bed? Quick, tidy, efficient?” I don’t know why I say that. I regret it immediately. I was just kidding around, but in my experience, guys do not like joking about their performance in the bedroom.
To my complete surprise, his face breaks out in a fucking brilliant smile. His eyes are even sparkling.
I hear a deep, scratchy laugh come from the other end of the bar. A large man with a long grey beard is patting his belly and looking in our direction.
“She’s got you pegged, boy,” he says, still laughing. He gets up and walks over to us. “I’m River, Stacy’s old man and the president of Chaos MC.
He holds out his hand and I shake it, keeping my wrist strong and my grip firm.
“I’m Liv. Good to meet you, River.”
He nods and walks to the back of the bar, leaving me to the gorgeous, grinning, Greek god of a man sitting in front of me.
“I’m Carter, by the way,” my sexy biker boy says.
He also sticks out his hand and I only hesitate for a second before taking it.
Show no fear. The first rule I ever learned.
Instead of shaking my hand though, Carter gently pulls me towards him. If anyone else did this, I’d slap them, but with Carter I just… I let him do it. I don’t know why.
He pulls me close enough so his lips are right next to the shell of my ear.
“If you want to know how I am in bed, I can always show you, love.”
Oh shit.
My breath catches in my throat, but I recover quickly.
“Thanks for the offer, but I promised myself I’d never jump into bed with anyone who sings Miley Cyrus,” referencing our earlier conversation. I grin at him, regaining some control. I slip my hand out of his grasp and take his shot glass, turning around to the shelves of liquor.
“Another double?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at him.
He’s grinning, shaking his head, and rubbing his beard. His eyes rake over my body, and I don’t mind.
“You’re something else, love.”
“It’s Liv.”
“Whatever you say.” He winks. “Yeah, I’ll take another double for the road.”
“Are you serious?” I mean, four shots before getting on a motorcycle? Not smart.
Carter just laughs. “I mean, I’ll take it over to that booth,” he nods to the corner of the bar.
“Oh,” I feel heat stinging my cheeks.
Since when do I blush? Never. Fucking never.
“Worried about me?” He smiles. “I’m not leaving you yet, beautiful. I’ll be here most of the night.”
I roll my eyes. “Just take your damn whiskey and go.”
He chuckles and walks over to the booth, joining a few other guys who I assume are members of Chaos.
Thank god he’s giving me some space. I feel like I can’t breathe when I’m around him. Well, that and my panties are a goddamn mess. It’s going to be a long shift.
Chapter 2
Carter
Who the fuck is this woman?
From the moment I saw her walk into the bar I’ve been rock fucking hard.
She’s easily the most gorgeous goddamn woman I’ve ever seen. She’s wearing skinny jeans and a white t-shirt, but I can still make out her incredible figure. Tight ass, perky breasts that would fit perfectly in my hands, slim waist, legs for days, even in those tattered chucks she’s wearing. But honestly, her body wasn’t the first thing I noticed about her. It was her eyes. Golden brown on the inside, fading to green and then a ring of blue. How the hell does that even happen? And that hair. God. Silky and black and begging me to run my fingers through it and grip it at the back of her neck, exposing her slender neck to me so I can suck her supple skin.
Fuck.
And then she opened her mouth – her delicious mouth, lined with bright red lipstick that would look fantastic around my cock.
Liv is all sass and confidence, and fuck if that didn’t make me want her more. I could tell she’d fight for control in the bedroom and I’d have to fuck her into submission. I love the fight as much as I love the chase, and it’s been too damn long since anyone has been a challenge.
I’m not vain. Really, I’m not. I don’t give a shit how I look. But I know women care and take notice. It’s never been hard for me to get laid, that’s just a fact. The trouble is getting them to leave the next day, or preferably the same night. I don’t cuddle. I fuck. Hard.
“Damn. Have you seen the new bartender? I wouldn’t mind taking her for a ride.”
A wave of anger washes over me, accompanied by a ridiculous thought.
I saw her first. She’s mine.
What the hell? She’s no ones, least of all mine.
And yet, the idea of her with any one of these fuckheads has me tensing my muscles and clenching my jaw.
“Watch it. You better not let Stacy hear you talking about Liv that way,” I tell Slash.
He raises his hands in mock surrender.
“What, are you laying claim to her, Carter? I never thought I’d see the day-“
“No,” I growl. “Fuck you, man.”
“Hey, alright, alright, calm down. What the fuck did I do?”
He takes a swig of beer and I try to calm down because I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me right now.
“Sorry. Long day.”
Slash nods, even though I know he knows something is off about me.
“So…” he says, trying to change the subject. “How did the supply run go?”
A few weeks ago, Chaos helped bring down a cult, a fucking cult, that somehow passed under the radar in our own backyard for years. We teamed up with the ATF to bring the place down. Not only were they getting a bit too big for their britches trying to take over our gun running operation, but they beat their women, treated them like property, and couldn’t care less. Yeah, that didn’t fly with us. We were many things, but we treated our women well and we were loyal to one another above all else.
The legal battle was still in full swing so the people we rescued from the cult had to stick around to testify. We put them up in a few of our properties while the hearings were taking place. Every week a few of us dropped off groceries and other supplies they needed. It’s literally the least we could do. These people were helping us take down a monster that was encroaching on our territory. All in all it was a win-win scenario. I’m usually the one to head up the supply run since I have a big ass truck. I have my bike too, of course. But a man has to have his options. The guys give me shit about it, but it’s times like these I’m glad I have my truck. They can suck it.
“It went well,” I say. “Those ladies sure know how to cook. I got a plate of biscuits and gravy for my troubles.”
“Oh yeah? You get anything else as a thank you?” Slash smirks.
“Fuck, dude, is that all you think about? That’s messed up, man. Those women have been through hell
.”
“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He’s not sorry though. He’s laughing.
I roll my eyes at him and chuckle. He means well, but he’s one horny son of a bitch.
“Speaking of,” Slash continues. “Have you had anything good lately? I haven’t seen you with any of the club girls in a while. What’s wrong, your junk not working anymore?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t have to test my equipment every goddamn day to make sure it works. I’ve never had any complaints.”
Slash laughs and finishes the rest of his beer. “I’m just saying. You used to rival me for how many times you could get laid in a week. And now…” He shrugs.
“With age comes wisdom. And more importantly, discernment.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, man. I’m getting another beer, you want anything?”
I shake my head and watch Slash walk up to the bar.
He waves to Liv and she makes her way over to him, swaying her hips effortlessly. I know she’s not trying to be sexy; she’s just walking. But everything about her calls out to me and makes my dick stand at attention.
“Ready for another round?” Liv asks.
“Just a beer for me. My cranky friend over there is switching to water.”
Liv glances over at me and tries, unsuccessfully, to hide her grin. My cock twitches.
“Beer it is then.”
She turns around, giving me an excellent view of her glorious ass, and grabs another bottle for Slash. He grabs it from her and says something I can’t hear, getting a little too close from where I’m sitting.
Not that I care who gets close to her. God. What’s wrong with me?
But I see discomfort in her eyes and watch as her shoulders tense up. She’s trying to play it cool, but something spooked her. I’m about to go punch Slash in the face for making her feel uncomfortable, but I see him back off. He must have sensed it too. Slash is man whore, to be sure, but he would never take advantage of anyone or hurt a woman.
“What was that about?” I ask when he gets back to the table.
“I don’t know, she’s a little jumpy I guess.”
Loving Liv (Chaos MC #2) Page 1
