“I’m going to make sure you can’t walk straight, when you walk down the aisle today,” he declared, just as he came, bursting into me with fury. I felt him shoot and drain himself, grunting over me as his orgasm began to subside.
Then we were laughing, a kind of delirious joy had overtaken us. He’d mentioned the wedding and I just realized that it was today! We were going to be married today!
I turned on my back, perspiration covering my body, and Gunner fell down on the bed beside me, panting hard. We were still laughing, happy that we’d found each other, grateful for everything that had happened to bring us together. To me, it was like some sort of ridiculously happy fantasy that I was living and Gunner looked satisfied and content as he lay beside me, trying to recover himself.
“How do you bring this out in me, Brooklyn. I can never get enough of you,” he said and pulled me into his arms again. We kissed, tenderly and lovingly this time and we smiled at each other again.
“I can’t wait to be married to you, Gunner,” I said, with my cheeks flushing as he peered into my eyes.
In just a few hours, this man was going to be my husband and I was glad that Luke had met him.
***
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Was it really me? Was this really happening to me? Brooklyn Jenson?
I had spent all my life wondering if I would ever marry for love. I was expected to date and eventually marry a member of the Dragon Knights. Not for love but for duty. So that I could rear a Dragon Knight son, to carry on the Jenson legacy.
Instead, I was marrying a Bad Disciple today, an arch rival…the son of a man who used to be daddy’s best friend but had turned into an enemy. And most importantly, I wasn’t marrying for legacy or loyalty or duty, or for the sole purpose of breeding a Dragon Knight brood. I was marrying for love and to spend my life with a man who I knew I wanted to be with. I couldn’t help but wonder if my mother would have still been around if she had married for love. And not because her father had forced her to marry daddy because he had proven himself to be a suitable Dragon Knights candidate for my mom.
And here I was, all dressed and ready to marry Gunner Alton.
I was in the most gorgeous white dress I could have dreamed for my wedding, with a wedding and a sparkling tiara on my head. The neck was a delicate sweetheart cut, which I’d specially designed because I knew how much Gunner liked to see my cleavage on display!
Axel and the boys had gifted me a blindingly bright diamond necklace as a wedding present, which I was thoroughly impressed with. It lay around my neck now and I smiled at it. My hair was done up, my makeup was taken care of, and I was ready. My green eyes sparkled in my reflection, and even though I was nervous and it was the most important day of my life, I couldn’t wait to get started!
I heard a knock on the dressing room door and I knew it was time. Gunner and I had picked the music and it started playing outside and I stood up from the ottoman and walked to the door. Axel was waiting for me on the other side, with a bouquet of blushing pink peonies which he handed to me.
He had tried to not smile too wide when I asked him if he would walk me down the aisle and give me away on my wedding day. He was the closest person to having a father and in the past seven months, he had proven to be just as good as one. I was slowly beginning to miss daddy and Luke less and less each day. Gunner’s friends were my brothers and Axel was like a father to me and I was grateful for their presence in my life.
Axel gave me his arm and we smiled at each other. I took the bouquet from him and looked up to find everyone seated. They stood up in unison as Axel led me down and my eyes was riveted on the man standing at the end of the aisle.
Gunner was in a sharp navy tuxedo with a matching bow tie. The colors blended with his blue eyes and his hair was the usual, blond and military cut and he was freshly shaven. He was staring at me intently, like he had never seen me before and I blushed deeply.
He had a half smile on his face and I couldn’t help but feel lucky that I had met this man. Glock, Tank, Sniper and Hunter stood beside him, beaming at me and visibly excited.
Axel walked me down the aisle, slowly and steadily keeping a firm grip on my arm. I was dizzy with excitement and I couldn’t wait to be married to this man. When we stopped before the boys, Axel gently let my arm go and then reached over to kiss my cheek.
“You look beautiful, Brooklyn. Gunner is lucky to have you,” he said and I wondered if Axel had ever said such words in his life before.
Gunner came forward and offered me his arm, which I took and walked up to the alter in front of the priest. I was itching and desperate to kiss him, but we had to control ourselves till we were officially married and till the priest told us we could kiss. The next time we’d be naked in bed together, I wouldn’t even have my old name…I’d be Brooklyn Alton!
I knew I had tears in my eyes. I wished daddy and Luke were alive to see this. They would have been proud of me. Even though I was surrounded by Bad Disciples…I was in a church full of them! I knew that despite this, they would have been happy that I had made the right decision. That I had chosen to be with a man who I knew would make me happy and would be as fiercely protective of me as they were.
Gunner couldn’t take his eyes off me and I couldn’t look away from him.
When the priest started speaking…it felt like I was drifting off, like something was changing in me…we were going to be bound together for life and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Get the next book in the series Hunter (The Bad Disciples MC #2) HERE!
Or you can get the ENTIRE Bad Disciple Series in this box set HERE!
Hawk (The Road Rebels MC #1)
by Savannah Rylan
Chapter 1
Hawk
“I’m so sorry, Sydney.”
“No… Hawk. It can’t be him. Please tell me it’s not him.”
That night would forever sit in my memory as the night my entire life changed. The infamous shootout between The Devil Saints and The Road Rebels not only left multiple people dead but made the headlines and forced both clubs to go under the radar. I was in my twenties when I was a prospect for The Road Rebels. My father, Joe, was the Vice President of the motorcycle club. He was highly revered. A real chest puffer. He knocked up my mom at some motorcycle celebration at the beach on the West Coast, and she showed up at his doorstep nine months later with me.
“Dad! No! Stop!”
The gunshots called out like raging lightning strikes. They tore through the air, whizzing by our heads as motorcycles came rumbling down the road. The Devil Saints had been looking to stir up trouble with us ever since our treasurer had been found hooking up with The Devil Saint’s President’s wife.
John had been an idiot. Why the fuck couldn’t he have just kept it in his pants? The Devil Saints had always been looking for trouble. Their club was conceived as a split faction from another major club out in the Grand Canyon valley, and they brought nothing but heartache and sorrow wherever they went. Their motorcycles were loud, their jackets and paint jobs were bright, and they had no issues unloading gun magazines into anyone that looked at them in a way they didn’t approve.
Why the fuck did Sidney’s father, have to fuck the President’s wife?
Bullets were flying as I raced to my father. He was taking fire as he ducked behind a car. People were screaming, and magazines were being reloaded. My father pressed a gun into my hand so I could fend for myself, then he went back to what he knew best.
Shooting at those who shot at his loved ones.
“Hawk! Help!”
I took off running, hearing Sydney’s cries for help. My heart hammered in my chest. Was she hurt? Was she bleeding? Had she been taken? The Devil Saints were ruthless bastards and would stop at nothing to get the information they needed.
Even if it was pouring from the scared lips of a 20-year old girl.
I could still remember how petrified I was when I heard Sydney shriek like that. She had
been raised by her father as well after her mother dumped her at the main lodge. That was common with women nowadays: take a wild vacation, have a tryst with a biker, then dump the child when they didn’t want to take responsibility for their actions. Sydney had grown up tough, and her father raised her to protect herself. She knew how to shoot a gun with accuracy by the age of twelve and could single-handedly take me down by the time we were teenagers.
I fell in love with her on the spot the moment she pinned me to the ground the very first time we sparred.
I slid towards Sydney as I saw her cradling someone’s head. Blood was leaking everywhere as it spurted onto her blue leather jacket. Tears were pouring down her face as I crawled to her, shooting out to my side as someone attempted to charge us. I didn’t even look to see how long it took for the fucker to bleed out because I recognized who she was cradling the moment I saw his eyes.
John.
Her father had been shot.
Raking my hands through my Mohawk, I stared out the window. Never in my life had I ever seen Sydney cry that way. She was tough. Tougher than any girl should’ve been for her age. She and I had seen things no child should be privy to, and it was another reason why we got along so well. Our fathers raised us, schooled us, and strapped us to their motorcycles when we took trips. We grew up on the road. We understood the in’s and out’s of how each other was being raised, and people actually took bets on when we’d finally tie the knot.
But she left before we could.
“Please Daddy,” Sydney begged. “Just hang on.”
Blood was pouring from Joe’s mouth as I ripped my jacket off. I peeled my shirt off my back and pressed it to the gunshot wound in his chest, but his stomach was littered with iron. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would make it, and we both watched as the light slowly slipped from his eyes.
“Hawk,” John choked out.
“Yeah. Yeah, John. I’m right here. Just… conserve your energy.”
A bullet whizzed by my head, and I got up. I shot the man who was aiming a gun at us right between the eyes, then ducked back down before his body hit the ground. I reloaded my gun without even thinking as Sydney’s eyes widened at me, and for the first time, I saw it.
I saw Sydney fear me and what I had become.
“Take care… of my… my baby,” he said.
“That’s not gonna be necessary,” I said. “Because you’re gonna live to take care of her yourself.”
“Promise me, boy. Pro-... promise…”
“Daddy! No! Please!”
My hands shook as I sat at her father’s desk. Joe and John were always made fun of because they wanted legitimate desks in the main lodge where we all congregated. Hell, they had been made fun of when they suggested building this fucking building in the first place. ‘Motorcycle clubs don’t have lodges’ the members had complained. But, Joe and my father were dead set on it. They thought we needed a safe place to meet up. A haven for us all to gather at. A place to hold our family dinners and return to after trips we all took together. They kept teasing our fathers about wanting ‘office spaces’ and shit like that, but I knew why they wanted this place.
They wanted it because it gave them some sort of permanence.
I never could bring myself to sit at my father’s desk, but for some reason sitting at John’s desk always made me feel a bit closer to her. To Sydney. Our father’s ‘offices’ were right next to one another’s because it helped them to coordinate trips. The Vice President was in charge of taking care of our books and shit after the President put his stamp of approval on it, and that meant working alongside the Treasurer to make sure they could afford all the shit my father always wanted to do.
It made their lives a bit more convenient, it got them out of their homes, and the building ultimately pulled the whole of The Road Rebels into a more cohesive unit.
“Hawk! Get over here!”
I heard someone call out for me and I jumped up from behind the barrels. Sydney was tugging on my wrist, begging me to stay. Her eyes were lined with tears as the fear ricocheted across her face, but the desperation in the person calling for me caused me to rip myself away from her.
“I’ll be right back, I swear,” I said.
I ran over as bullets continued to fly, but then I heard it. Sirens off in the distance. Motorcycles kicked up as The Devil Saints began to ride away, and the moment they turned their backs I unloaded. Every single bullet in my gun chamber hit the backs of members as they drove off, and it wasn’t until Sydney wrapped her arms around me and shrieked for me to stop that I came to.
“Just stop,” she whispered desperately.
“Hawk, you gotta come quick,” someone said. “It’s your father.”
We lost many good riders that day. Sydney’s father. My father. Our president, Magnum. They all bled out in the sand while the rest of us stood there, stunned at the surprise assault The Devil Saints were able to spring on us. Some people were angry that someone didn’t see it coming. Others thought we had a traitor in our midst. Had it not been for the grieving process and my ability to yell some fucking sense into everyone, a damn witch hunt would’ve killed and destroyed what was left of our crew.
Our club.
Our brothers.
Our family...
Consoling Sydney had been the hardest thing I’d ever have to do. Her grief was overwhelming. She screamed and cried as I held her that night, then she tried to use sex to cover up how she felt. I sank my cock between her legs time and time again as she clawed at my back, trying to forget the overwhelming stench of blood that was still wafting underneath her nose. I loved that woman with a passion. I was willing to give her anything and everything she could’ve ever needed to cope. If she wanted sex, that’s what she would get. If she wanted me to eat her pussy until she passed out from the pleasure, that’s what I would do. If she wanted to drown her sorrows in ice cream and put on thirty pounds, I’d call her beautiful while she was doing it.
What I didn’t know was that I’d wake up alone the next morning.
What I didn’t know was that Sydney’s grief would rip her away from me.
I never did see her after that. After she left me in the middle of the night. I’d spent my entire life growing up alongside her, then The Devil Saints came in and killed our parets. My grief drove me deeper into the family fold. My mother moved away from the grief of my father’s loss and I worked my way up the ladder and ended up with the position of Sergeant at Arms. It was bittersweet, in a way, but it was the only thing I could think of that would somehow bring him honor.
Somehow protect us from what happened that night.
Sydney’s grief, however, drove her away from this place. Away from us.
Away from me.
I blamed The Devil Saints for taking her from me. For forcing me to bury our parents. She didn’t even come back for her father’s funeral. Fucking heaven only knows where she had been. Some rumors swirled that her mother wasn’t actually dead. Others could’ve sworn they saw her walking the streets as a prostitute just inside the town limits. Some proclaimed she was actually adopted and never once considered us family. Just a trapped little girl who wanted out.
No matter what was true, I couldn’t blame her. She sometimes talked about getting out and living a normal life. Traveling the world and getting away from all the violence. She wanted the house and the yard. The dog running around with her child on it’s back. She wanted the late night wine meetings with friends while they bitched about their husbands and the shopping trips that would make most men pull their hair out.
Me? I couldn’t wait to spend my years with the only family I’d ever known. They’d comforted me and took me in when my father died. Showed me the ropes and made sure I stayed on a path he’d be proud of. I swore at his funeral I’d do right by him. I swore I’d guide the only physical definition of family I’d ever known down a path that would not only make him proud but honor his name.
But there wasn’t a day that went by
that I didn’t think of Sydney.
Now, I was twenty-six. Sergeant at Arms of The Road Rebels motorcycle club. I wanted to make sure nothing like that night ever happened again. I maintained order and security, making sure our members were safe, and their children never lost their parents before their time to leave. Sydney had been out of my life for almost six years, but I could still feel her at my side every night. I could still feel her warmth wrapped around my body. I could still smell her musky scent mixed with this cotton candy bullshit she used to spray on herself every now and again.
How I missed the way, her fingernails raked down my arms when we made love.
Sure, I’d been with other women. I wasn’t gonna deprive myself of the soft curves a woman’s body had to offer. But no one compared to her. The way Sydney’s body molded to mine after sex couldn’t be matched. It was like we simply bled together, our lines blurring into one another’s while we slept. Her sounds were unmatched. Her little groans and moans that turned to full-on wails of pleasure as I plunged in and out of her body.
None of these women and their pussies held a candle to the way Sydney’s body made me feel.
Orgasms were half-assed, and I didn’t care if they got theirs. I’d get them some food, tell them how beautiful they were, and I wouldn’t even take all my clothes off to do what I wanted to do. There wasn’t a point to it. I was done trying to chase what Sydney had provided for me all those years ago and simply settled for… well… settling.
People in the club told me I wouldn’t find myself a nice girl to fuck regularly if I continued down my path, but that’s what they didn’t understand.
I didn’t want a nice girl.
I wanted Sydney.
I heavy knock reverberated around the main lodge. I sighed, pulling myself from Sydney’s father’s desk as I rolled my shoulders back. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come in and congregate today, especially since there was some fucking beach bash on the West Coast everyone wanted to go to.
Baby and the Biker: The Ghost Riders MC Page 64
