BIKER DADDY: The Chain Gang MC

by St. Rose, Claire

  Wester took the gun from the other man and began wiping it down. The man came to her side of the car. She clung to the door handle, trying with all her might to hold it shut, but he yanked it easily out of her hands. She tried to pull her way out of the passenger’s seat, hoping to climb out the driver’s side, but she got tangled in the seatbelt. He opened the door and held her against the back of the seat, his arm pressing against her throat just enough to make it hard to fight. He unbuckled the belt, leering down her top as he did so. His breath was sweet, like gum. It was the most distressing part of the whole thing, somehow. She wanted a monster of a man to have breath like rotten meat. Sweetness was unanticipated.

  He hauled her out of the car by her arm, gripping her bicep far too firmly for her to think that running away would be useful. He hauled her towards Wester, who had wrapped the gun in a cloth and tucked it away somewhere. Her face was wet, but she couldn’t remember when she’d started to cry.

  Wester looked her up and down, and she felt dirty everywhere his gaze touched.

  “I’m not looking to hurt you,” he said, his tone polite and conversational, even as his gaze lingered on her breasts. Her uniform had torn in her struggle with the other man, and her bra was showing. This bra fits about as well as the rest of her uniforms did, which meant she was just about spilling out of it. He had lots to stare at, the filthy son of a bitch. “But you have something I need.”

  “I don’t have anything.” She snarled, yanking against the other man’s grip. It wasn’t going to get her anywhere but bruised, but she couldn’t hold still and let him keep looking at her like that without saying something.

  Wester glanced down at the curve of her belly, accentuated by the way the monster at her side was twisting her arm up and around, keeping her up on her tip toes to avoid the incredible pain in her shoulder. “You have exactly what I need. Leverage. But the good news for you is that I’m quite sure it’s the baby he wants, not you, so when you’re done…” He waved a hand in that way men do when they are discussing reproductive things, “… gestating, I’ll be more than happy to let you go.”

  She felt another scream roiling through her, and her free arm wrapped around her belly, both trying to protect Bean and trying to keep the scream inside. Screaming wasn’t going to do any good now. She was painfully sure of that.

  And then she heard a sound, rising up over the noise of the roadhouse. She told herself she wasn’t sure, that she didn’t know, but she did. She knew, all through her body, that it was Jackdaw, and he was there to rescue her. She couldn’t hold back the grin, but then there was another sharp crack, too close to her, and the scream she’d been holding back was released. The man twisting her arm spasmed next to her, jerking her arm so hard she thought it might break, and then he let go. She spun towards him, ready to use any opening to her advantage, but he was already dropping down into the dust.

  Wester broke right, diving for the cover of Cook’s car. Cook was groaning in the dust, his hands over the wound in his belly that was gushing blood. For just a moment, Mindy felt bad for him, worried that he might die there in the dust of this biker bar. But he’d brought her here and been ready to hand her and Bean over to people who were prepared to hurt them, very badly. She felt bad, but not so very bad. She hoped someone would get him some help. She had zero obligation to be the one who tried to help.

  Jackdaw spun the bike around, kicking up gravel that bit at her lower legs, but she pushed that sensation away, making it something she would deal with later. Right now, she needed to get away from all of this before another shot rang out and took her down with it.

  “Get on!” Jack shouted, but she was already running, slinging her leg over the back of the bike like she’d done this a thousand times. Jack barely waited for her to get settled before he tore off again, racing into the darkness of the night. She clung to him, and let herself believe that it was the rush of the air that pulled tears from her eyes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mindy clung to Jack’s back as he tore through the night. Once they were a good distance from the roadhouse and no one appeared to be following them, he slowed the bike down and road at a more sedate pace. She didn’t try to talk to him; she was still shaking hard, and she was sure her voice would quake. No point in making him think she was even more vulnerable than she actually was.

  She hated that she’d left Cook there on the ground, bleeding. He had been a friend to her once. Or at least, she’d thought that he was. She had apparently been painfully mistaken, but she needed to believe that all of his kindness hadn’t been some kind of angle to get her into a compromising position with the Wardens. She shuttered against Jack’s broad and stable back, thinking of what might have happened if he hadn’t rescued her. Sure, Wester had said that all he wanted was the baby—as if that wasn’t bad enough—but she’d heard stories of what some of the more nefarious biker clubs were like. Men terrorizing women, using them as they wanted, thinking of consent as some kind of joke that city folk worried about. She was sure Jack wasn’t like that. Even though they’d been passionate and barely contained that first time, she’d never once felt like he wasn’t attentive to her needs. If she said no, she was positive he would have stopped. Even the way he’d spoken to her about Bean. He’d asked to be a part of the process, not demanded that she give him his baby or any of the other caveman things he might have said. Every sign pointed to him seeing her as an actual person, not just a walking set of genitals.

  She was sure that another woman would have been terrified, ready to run the second Jack stopped the bike. Instead, she found herself trusting him, and maybe just a little bit thrilled by the life she’d now walked into. She felt strong and powerful instead of weak and on the run, victimized by the world. She’d put up a good act for a really long time, telling everyone just how independent and untouchable she was. She’d had one-night stands or relationships where she didn’t bother learning the names of family members or friends. What was the point, when she’d just be gone again as soon as she felt that itch to move on?

  The Bean had changed so many things. Maybe her desire to cling to Jackdaw as the world spun around them was hormonal. Or maybe it was just that he felt safe and secure, like a protector. She wasn’t afraid of the life he would bring with him because he was with her. And he would keep her safe. He’d already done that twice; rescued her from those who would hurt her. He said he wanted to keep doing it, as long and as often as needed. Who would possibly turn that down?

  The bike pulled into the parking lot in front of her building, and Jack balanced the bike with his feet as it idled.

  “We need to talk,” he said. His tone was calm, neutral. More, she thought, than she deserved from a strong alpha male who had just had to rescue his woman from near certain disaster.

  “Yeah, we do,” she replied. “Do you want to come up?”

  “Sure. Just let me take my bike around to the back.”

  She slipped off the back and waited for him while he led the bike out of sight of the main road. Of course, if they were looking for her, this would be an obvious place to look, but still. It was better than nothing.

  When Jack walked back around the building and into the lights in front of the apartments, she was struck by just how good he looked in his dusty denim, worn black boots, and the leather jacket over a flannel shirt. The way he moved was strong, powerful, but loose jointed and cool at the same time. She did not doubt that he could seduce her one moment and obliterate someone with his fists the next. The same hands that had teased her body into incredible heights of delight could drop a man to the ground if necessary. It was a heady thing to notice, and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like it quite a lot.

  “This way,” she said because the other option in her mind was, “Do me, baby, do me now,” and even if she was going to say that, she would find better phrasing. Way too stereotypical. But those goddamn pregnancy hormones were reacting with incredible strength to the man in front of her.

 
She led the way up the switchbacking exterior staircase until they got to her apartment door. She fished her key out of her uniform pocket, incredibly grateful that it hadn’t gotten lost along the way—and that she hadn’t brought her purse with her to the diner earlier because there was no chance she would have managed to get it out of Cook’s car. She unlocked the door and held it open for him while he walked inside, then locked it behind him.

  “Give me a minute. I want to change my clothes. There’s water in the kitchen, or a beer, or whatever else you want.”

  Jack nodded and went into the small, galley kitchen as she went down the hall to get changed.

  It was kind of a funny moment, standing in the bedroom, wondering what to wear to seduce the father of her child. If she wanted to seduce him. Which she wasn’t entirely sure of, but he’d touched her so well before, like he knew her just as well as he always had. Like he hadn’t forgotten a single detail of what she liked; what made her body sing.

  The biggest problem, however, was that most of the clothes she would have worn to seduce someone before were not close to fitting now. There was nothing sexy about maternity jeans; it just wasn’t possible. But she wasn’t quite ready to go out there in pajama pants and no bra either. So, maternity jeans it was. She put on a tank top over her bra, then a loose sweater to disguise the fact that her boobs were about to pop out of the bra like some kind of anime character. She really needed to go shopping. She really needed some money to go shopping. And, shit, with Cook shot, maybe dead, it wasn’t like there was going to be anyone at the diner to pay her. Double shit.

  She pushed the thought away; that would have to be tomorrow’s problem. She pulled her hair up into a loose bun and went back out to the kitchen.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jack Dawson, the fierce biker and leader of the Chain Gang, known as Jackdaw, appeared to be putting the stove-top kettle on. There were two mugs on the counter, and there were peppermint tea bags in each of them.

  She didn’t mean to say a thing, but she couldn’t help sputtering. “What are you doing?”

  He glanced up almost guiltily. “I read that a lot of women don’t feel good during pregnancy, and that peppermint tea helps to calm their stomachs. And I saw it in your cupboard when I was looking for a water glass, and I thought maybe you’d like it.”

  Okay, that was all logical, and even correct. “And the second mug?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve never had peppermint tea. Figured it was worth a try.”

  Mindy tried not to laugh. “That’s very open-minded of you.”

  Jack gave her a sideways smile that was so sweet it made her heart open up wide. “I’ve got a lot of things to start being more open-minded about.” The kettle whistled, and he poured water into both of the mugs, then passed her one. She directed them to the living room; onto her couch. “I never planned to be a father. I feel like it’s important for you to know that. Some people grew up imagining bouncing little babies on their knees who looked exactly like them, but that just wasn’t ever me. It wasn’t like I didn’t want kids, I just—” He stopped himself, took a long moment, then a deep breath. “I want to be a part of this. I want to know you better, and I want to know this kid. But I don’t know if I’m going to be any good at it.”

  She set down the tea, reached out, and took his free hand in hers.

  “Look,” she said. “I’m in the same boat, okay? I never thought I’d be someone who stayed in the same town for a month, let alone a year, or a lifetime. But this is where I’ve found myself, and I’m going to keep doing the best I can at it. And if you want to do this with me, I’m all for it. It’ll be less lonely that way.”

  He took a sip of the tea, made a face, and then set it down on the table next to hers. “In what capacity are we doing this together?”

  Her heart started to flutter in her chest. There was a deeper, more earthy sensation, further below. “Can you be more specific with your question?”

  He chuckled slightly, then tugged at the hand that was holding hers. She went to him easily, naturally, shifting so that she was sideways on his lap. One arm curled behind her back, the other rested on her upper legs, his hand cupping her ass.

  “I mean,” he said, slow and luxurious, “Are we going to go into this as friends? Lovers? Somewhere in between?”

  She shivered against him. She could feel his erection swelling below her, and she shifted, letting him feel the weight of her against him. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before reopening with a laser focus, right on her mouth.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “We don’t actually know each other very well at all. But one thing I can tell you for sure is that pregnancy hormones are a bitch, and I want to get laid basically every time I can, so maybe we can start there, and see what happens?”

  This time he shifted her, and he groaned just a little at whatever sensation her shifting ass provoked. “So, what you’re saying is you want me to fuck you every chance I get?”

  “Yes.”

  “Starting now?”

  Her cunt was wet and heated, and she looped her arms around her neck, letting her breath speed up and her body yearn for him without complaint. “God, please, would you?”

  “Fuck yes,” he replied before he claimed her mouth.

  It was a deep kiss from the first touch of lips, passionate and intense and eager. His tongue carved through her lips, opening her mouth for him; his hand cupped the back of her neck, turning her mouth to the angle he wanted. She kept the kiss in play, eagerly meeting every thrust of his tongue with her own, and straightened up so that she could turn and straddle him. He was hard and eager, and she was wet and ready, but she wanted to savor this. She had been so long without him inside of her, and he’d ruined her for every other man, for all of her toys. Nothing felt as good as him, nothing, not in all the time she’d been without him.

  He pulled her sweater up over her head, breaking the kiss for just one moment, then pulled the straps of her tank top down. He buried his face in her swollen breasts, his hands lifting them up and out of her bra. He was delicate with her nipples, teasing them with his teeth and watching her before taking them into his mouth and running his tongue over them. After a moment, he settled on one side and teased her breast with lips and tongue while he tortured the other side with his fingertips. She buried her hands in his hair and let her hips shift, feeling the seam of her jeans press up past her lower lips into the aching need of her clit. Her panties were soaked, completely soaked, and she was about to be lit on fire with the need for him.

  “Please,” she murmured. “Please, please. Go slow next time. Love me next time. This time, fuck me.” He froze for just a moment, gazing up at her, and that was when she realized what she’d said. She waited, holding her breath, looking for his reaction.

  “Get up,” he said, and she was sure all the way down through her that he was about to leave. He did stand, but he didn’t head for the door. He kissed her again, bending down to meet her lips with his, and then cupped her ass, lifting her up onto her toes to press her against him. Her belly stopped their hips from connecting all the way, but she didn’t much mind. “Show me where the bedroom is.”

  She led him down the little hall to the bedroom that suddenly seemed much messier and dingier than it had the day before. He didn’t seem to mind, though, focused entirely on her tits and the swell of her stomach. He stripped off his clothes, folding each article neatly and placing it on the nearest flat surface which wasn’t too littered with her things. She smiled at the precision of it, and just to annoy him, she shucked her jeans, her tank top, and her bra and panties, dropping them all on the floor. She stood before him naked, feeling truly sexy in her body for the first time in weeks, and he watched her. His cock was hard and ready, just as thick and solid as she remembered. The yearning for him rippled through her belly, and she reached out to him, pulling him into her with a smile and a willingness she hoped he could feel.

  He kissed her again, his hard cock pressin
g at the underside of her belly in a way that made her giggle. His hands were harder, needier, stroking her breasts, kneading her ass, pulling her against him and cupping her ass to press her mound against him as he buried his face in her tits again. “What do you want? Tell me what feels good.”

  For a moment, her cheeks heated, but then she remembered how they’d taken each other in every position and in every spot that either one of them had been able to think of in that small little room. She stepped away from him and grabbed her small bullet vibe from the nightstand. She crawled onto the bed on her hands and knees and glanced back at him. He all but snarled and came to her quickly.

  “Like this,” she said, pushing her hips back against him. He answered her with a wicked smack against her ass. The sting made her cry out, yet it burned through her in the most delightful way.

  She could feel his cockhead nudging at her, and she relaxed into him. He was big, and she hadn’t taken anything that was anywhere near as big for a while. He fucked into her slowly, nudging into her, taking her, enveloping his cock with her cunt. He was incredibly gentle and careful, and it was one of the most erotic things she’d ever experienced. The moment when he was fully seated inside of her, their hips tight together, she felt pleasure coursing through her, just a heartbeat away from an earth-shattering orgasm.