Taming The Biker (MC Biker / Bad Boy Romance)

by Cassie Alexandra

  Cassie Alexandra

  Copyright ©2015 by Cassie Alexandra/K.L Middleton

  Cover Design by Book Cover By Design (Kellie Dennis)

  Cover Model - Connor Smith

  Photographer - Reggie Deanching/RplusMphoto.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without express written permission of the author.

  This book is purely fiction. Any resemblances to names, characters, and places are coincidental. The reproduction of this work is forbidden without written consent from the author.

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  Prologue

  Taylor

  Seven years before…

  I looked up at the clock; it was almost nine p.m.

  Where in the fuck are you?

  I wasn’t sure whether to be pissed off at my girl or worried about her welfare. Amber, who I’d been dating for three months, wasn’t answering my calls or texts and we had a party to go to. She was supposed to have picked me up thirty minutes ago and was never late. Unfortunately, I’d gotten my keys taken away the weekend before by my old man. He’d found out that I’d been drinking and driving. Needless to say, shit had hit the roof.

  “Dammit,” I mumbled out loud as I paced back and forth in the kitchen. “She’d better have a good fucking excuse, that’s all I can say. Especially tonight.”

  The party was for my best friend, Carter. It was his eighteenth birthday and his older brother, Drew, was throwing a huge kegger for him.

  Scott, my old man, walked into the kitchen. He was wearing grey overalls covered in white paint, and looked exhausted.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, opening up the refrigerator. He grabbed a beer, cracked the can open, and took a long sip.

  I checked my cell phone again.

  Still nothing from Amber.

  “I’m supposed to be at Carter’s. Amber hasn’t shown and I don’t know what the hell is going on.” I sighed. “Can I just get my keys back?”

  He belched. “Sure. On Monday.”

  “Look, I know I screwed up,” I told him, leaning against the kitchen counter. “It won’t happen again. I’ll even stay over at Carter’s tonight if I have anything to drink.”

  “Sorry, son, but that’s not going to happen. You know the rules,” he replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. He stretched his legs out, grabbed a pack of cigarettes that were sitting on the table, and lit one up.

  “But, it’s Carter’s birthday,” I snapped angrily. “Can’t you just cut me some slack?”

  “Cut you some slack? I think I’ve already done too much of that,” Scott replied through a cloud of smoke. He frowned. “You know, it’s bad enough that you were drinking underage, but you did it on your motorcycle, Taylor. If you’re going to be doing that shit, you may as well just lie down in the middle of the road and wait for death.”

  “I only had a couple of beers,” I replied, frustrated. “I wasn’t even buzzed.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You knew the rules,” he repeated, “and you broke them. Now you’ve got to face the consequences. Frankly, you’re lucky I’m giving you the keys back on Monday.”

  From the stubborn look on his face, I knew he wouldn’t budge. “Can I borrow your truck then?”

  “It’s like talking to a wall,” he muttered, rubbing his jaw. “No, you can’t borrow my truck.”

  “What about Sheila’s van?”

  I was desperate. The last thing I wanted was to show up at Carter’s party, in my stepmom’s mini-van, but it was better than not showing at all.

  “No. Face it – you’re not driving anything tonight. Hell, I shouldn’t even let you out of the house.”

  “I have to be there. He’s my best friend. You know that.”

  He stared at me for a few minutes and nodded toward the window. “If it’s so important to you, why don’t you just hoof it?”

  I looked at the clock again. He lived about six miles away. It was May and the walk was definitely manageable.

  Maybe I could get ahold of Amber along the way, too?

  “Fine. I’m not going to be a no-show. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

  Scott sighed. “Fuck it. I’ll drop you off. I’m not going to let you walk. Too many drunken assholes out there. Some of them on motorcycles, even.”

  “Thanks,” I said, ignoring the dig.

  He stabbed out his cigarette and nodded. “Let’s go. We’ll take my truck. I’ll even let you drive.”

  “Swell,” I replied dryly.

  “Don’t be an asshole, Taylor. You’re lucky I’m doing this for you.”

  “I know,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. “I appreciate it.”

  “You’d better.”

  I grabbed my leather jacket and followed him out to the garage.

  ***

  The party was in full swing when we arrived at the house, which looked like a palace compared to our place. Scott was a carpenter and Sheila worked part time as a bartender at a dive called Sal’s. Funds were tight, our house was small, but I had to admit – life with them wasn’t too bad. Carter’s family, on the other hand, had a shitload of money, his parents were always fighting, and he couldn’t wait to go to college next fall. It made me appreciate what I had. My old man could be a prick sometimes, but overall, he treated me fairly. The truth was, I usually deserved whatever he was dishing out.

  “Are his parents home?” asked Scott, frowning at the number of cars parked up and down the street. Fortunately, Carter’s house was far enough away from his neighbors that the party wasn’t disturbing anyone. Not yet, anyway. The cops had been over on a couple of occasions, back when his older brother had been living at home. Once, when Carter and I were fifteen, we’d stolen some beer during one of his Drew’s shindigs, and proceeded to get shitfaced in the guest-house. When the cops arrived, three older girls had snuck in as well to evade the cops, and before the end of the night, both of us had lost our virginity. It had been one hell of a night.

  “His brother Drew is back from college,” I said. “He’s keeping things under control.”

  “That’s comforting,” he replied dryly.

  “Everything is cool,” I said, pulling up to the front of the house. “It’s just a party.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” he said, gawking at two chicks walking into the house, wearing miniskirts and high-heels. He grinned. “Maybe I should come in and make sure Drew doesn’t have too much to handle. Some of the girls walking inside look like trouble.”

  I snorted. “What would Sheila say?”

  “Sheila would think I was doing a good deed.”

  “Sure she would.”

  A couple of other girls walked out of the house and Scott pretended to wipe the drool from his chin. “I can’t believe their mothers let them go out in those dresses.”

  “They probably borrowed them from their mothers. Some of them are MILFs,” I said, wondering what Amber was wearing. As far as I was concerned, she could wear a garbage bag and still look sexy.

  He laughed. “I bet. Damn, I was born in the wrong generation. I’d be all over some of these ho
tties if I were you.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be telling me to keep my hands off?” I asked dryly.

  “Just keep your dick wrapped, son, and you can put your hands anywhere you want,” he said, checking out two blondes that were walking side-by-side toward the house. “You ever get with either of them?”

  “No. Amber’s my girl. You know that.”

  “You’re too young to be with one girl.”

  I sighed.

  It was the same conversation. He thought we were getting too serious. Maybe we were, but she was a wildcat in bed and I was starting to have some real feelings for her.

  “I know. I’m just saying that you should keep your options open. You’re young and,” he grinned, “you’ve got your old man’s looks. I see the way the girls look at you. Don’t waste all of that on one. Not at this age, at least.”

  Scott had been a ‘player’ in his younger years. He’d once bragged that he’d had sex with over eighty chicks, and that was just in a five-year span. Claimed it happened when he was in college and on the hockey team. Apparently, he’d shot his puck into so many holes, they’d started calling him “Slap-Scott.” This had more to do with the fact he’d been slapped in public, on more than a few occasions, by jealous ex-lovers. Unfortunately, it had all come to an end when he’d broken his wrist, which not only ended his hockey career, but his wild sex life. It was a year later that he’d met up with my mother. I couldn’t remember much about her myself; she’d died when I was four in a car accident. I still had some pictures of the three of us, though. I could tell how much Scott had loved her and how much she’d loved the two of us.

  “I hear you,” I said, not wanting to get into it.

  “I hope so. Listen, let me know if you need a ride home later,” he said, getting out of the truck.

  “I will. Thanks.” I got out too and scanned the cars parked along the side of the road. When I spied Amber’s white Jeep, I frowned.

  What in the hell?

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing my expression.

  “Nothing. I’ll catch ya later,” I said, shoving my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket.

  He got into the driver’s side of the vehicle. “Remember, call me if you need a ride home.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, walking away with my head down. The last thing I wanted was to get shit from one of the other guys at school seeing me get dropped off by my old man.

  “Hey, Taylor,” said a girl’s voice in the darkness as I headed toward the front door.

  I looked over to the side of the house and noticed Lauren Macey standing alone in the shadows. She was Carter’s latest conquest, a pretty girl with reddish- brown hair, large green eyes, and a body that could very well be in a Victoria’s Secret commercial. Although he hadn’t gotten down her pants yet, I knew he was hoping to do it tonight. They’d already been on a few dates and he claimed she was a tease. Unlike Amber, who’d had her hand down my pants halfway through the horror flick we’d gone to, on our first date.

  “Hey. What’s up?” I asked, wondering what she was doing outside by herself.

  Lauren, who was wearing white shorts and a thin blue shirt, shivered. “I need a ride home,” she said, rubbing her arms to try and warm up.

  “Already?” I stepped closer. When I noticed her red-rimmed eyes, I frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Lauren’s cheeks turned red. “Nothing. I just… I want to get the hell out of here,” she answered in a husky voice.

  “Where’s Carter?”

  She jerked her chin toward the house. “In there. By now, probably getting laid.”

  My eyes widened. “What? Really?”

  She smiled bitterly. “Yeah. I walked in on him and some girl messing around in his bedroom, about ten minutes ago.”

  “No way.”

  “Yeah. What a fucking asshole.”

  It didn’t exactly surprise me. Carter was a pig and he even used to keep a roster of the number of girls he’d banged. I used to be a player too, before Amber took me out of the game. “Who was he with?”

  “I’m not sure. He was tickling her on the bed and I couldn’t see her face.”

  “Was he hammered?” I asked.

  “Does it matter?” she said, staring at me like I was from another planet. “We’re supposed to be… I don’t know… together? I guess he forgot about it already.”

  “Really? Exclusive?” I asked, surprised. Carter hadn’t mentioned it to me. Probably a new line of bullshit he was dishing out just to get down her pants.

  “Well, he said he wasn’t interested in seeing anyone else. I guess I just assumed…” she replied, looking like she was going to cry. “Anyway, I need to get out of here and my friend Jen doesn’t want to leave the party.”

  “Jen Fisher?”

  She nodded.

  “Nice friend she is,” I muttered, watching her lip tremble.

  “Well, to be honest… I didn’t exactly tell her,” she said. “I was too upset at the time.”

  I let out a ragged breath. “Man, I’m sorry, Lauren,” I replied. “What can I say? He’s my best friend, but he’s also a fucking dick.”

  “Hey, Adams!” hollered a voice.

  I turned toward the house and saw one of my other friends, Chad Barnes, sticking his head out of the front door. He was a running-back for the high school football team.

  I waved.

  “What in the hell are you doing? Get your ass in the house and grab a cold one!”

  Lauren, who he obviously hadn’t noticed, moved further back into the shadows.

  “I’ll be right there!” I called.

  “You’d better. I’ve got a red cup with your name on it, bro! Let’s get wasted!”

  It was obvious that he was almost there already. “I’ll be in soon!” I said.

  “You’d better be!” Stumbling, he closed the door.

  I turned back toward Lauren.

  “Yeah, he’s already wasted,” she answered, with a small smile.

  “Most definitely,” I replied, smiling back.

  There was a loud crash from somewhere in the house and then laughter.

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “I really need to get out of here.”

  I sighed. “I’d give you a ride but the truth is, I had to find one here myself.”

  “I kind of figured. It’s okay. Could you do me a huge favor, though? Go and look for Katy Johnson? She’s in there somewhere. Tell her I need to talk to her. I’m sure she’ll give me a ride.”

  “Why don’t you text her?” I asked.

  She pulled out her phone and waved it. “I’ve been trying to. I think it’s too loud inside. Or hell, maybe she’s ignoring me. It’s one of those nights, you know?”

  Remembering that I’d seen Amber’s vehicle at the party, I frowned. “I know the feeling. You didn’t happen to see Amber inside, did you?”

  “Yeah. Earlier. She arrived with a couple of her friends, Bonnie and Veronica.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I’ll go look for Katy. Hopefully she’s not the chick in bed with Carter.”

  “No way. She’s going out with Bernie Lee and those two would never cheat on each other.”

  “That’s right.” I pulled off my leather jacket. “Here. Wear this. It’s getting nippy out here.”

  She glanced down at her top and blushed. “God.”

  I grinned sheepishly. “Don’t worry about it. I’m nipping myself now.”

  Her eyes went to my chest. “You should keep your jacket. Now you’re cold.”

  “Nonsense. I’m a guy. We’re used to cold showers and giving up things to impress women.”

  Laughing, she took the jacket from me and slipped it on over her shoulders. “Thanks.”

  I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets. “No problem.”

  “It smells nice.”

  “My jacket?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Your cologne.”

  “Thanks. Amber got it for me,” I replied.

  “She’s a
lucky girl,” she said, brushing her hair away from her face. “To have you, that is.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  She smiled back and in that second, I felt compelled to stay and comfort her. Sure, Carter was my friend, but Lauren was way too good for him. Hell, she was probably too good for me, too.

  “What?” she asked after a few seconds.

  Realizing that I was staring at her like an idiot, I cleared my throat. “Nothing. I’ll go and find Katy for you. Just hold tight.” I said, turning away.

  “Thanks,” she said softly.

  I walked around the side and went into the house, which was jam-packed with most of the senior class, drinking beer and hollering at each other over the music.

  “There he is!” yelled Chad, barreling toward me with a bottle of rum and a red cup. His eyes were bloodshot as he handed me a glass of beer. “You need to catch up, dude.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Got here at seven.”

  “Where’d you get the bottle?”

  “Bought it from Drew. You want some?”

  “No, not tonight. Have you seen Katy Johnson or Jen Fisher?”

  “They’re around somewhere,” he said, taking a swig from the bottle.

  “Take it easy on that stuff. It’s still early.”

  He snorted. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle it.”

  A group of guys in the other room began chanting “Drink” over and over.

  Chad and I looked at each other; the party was definitely getting rowdier by the minute. I wondered how long it would take the cops to show up tonight. Drew had his work cut out for him.

  “This is jus’ like a college bash. I’d better go see what’s going on,” Chad said, stumbling toward the cheering.

  “Hey, have you seen Amber?” I yelled out to him.

  “She’s in the kitchen I think. Talking to Drew,” he called back over his shoulder.

  I headed in that direction, deciding that if I couldn’t find Lauren’s friends, I’d ask Amber to give her a ride.

  “Hey, Taylor,” called out Stacy Parker, another of Amber’s friends as I waded through the crowd.