Blood & Bones: Deacon (Blood Fury MC Book 4)

by Jeanne St. James

Reese did not miss the moment Brandy noticed her standing just outside of Deacon’s radar but watching the exchange.

  The younger woman’s eyes slid from Reese back to Deacon and her smile got even bigger. “Have a question for you, handsome.”

  “What’s that?”

  She plucked at both of her perky, tight nipples and said, huskily, “I’m thinking about getting my nipples pierced, too. D’you think that would look good?”

  “If that’s what you want, Brandy.”

  She reached into Deacon’s open cut and planted her hands on his chest. Right over his nipples. “Does it hurt?”

  “What d’you think it feels like when you jab a big needle through a sensitive part of your body?” Deacon asked her.

  Brandy cringed and dropped her hands.

  “It also hurts when you hit them with a stun gun,” Reese announced as she took the final two steps up to the bar to stand at Deacon’s back.

  His head twisted toward her, but his face remained unreadable. “My plan’s arrived.”

  Brandy stared at Reese but directed her question at Deacon. “Is that your mom? What happened to her face? Your daddy beat her?”

  Deacon’s face was no longer unreadable.

  Reese smiled despite the sharp pull of her injured lip. “He does call me Mommy sometimes when I twist those barbells.”

  Deacon surged to his booted feet, almost knocking Reese backwards. “Stay here,” he ordered her. He turned back toward Brandy, who looked like she was about to jump Reese with her claws out.

  Reese already had a bunch of bruises, what would be a few more?

  But Deacon grabbed Brandy’s arm, growled, “You. Come with me,” and dragged her down to the other end of the bar. When they got there, Reese watched Deacon say something to the young woman she did not like because, once again, she pouted and even stomped her foot slightly while she did it.

  Deacon said one more thing to her and finally Brandy nodded, glanced around The Barn and zeroed in on her next victim.

  Deacon remained where he stood, his beefy arms crossed over his chest as he watched her. After a few seconds, he turned and came back to Reese who had taken his spot on the stool.

  When he stopped in front of her, she said, “She’s cute. She has a really perky... personality. Did I screw up your plans?”

  “Nope,” he grunted.

  “Just curious on how she knows your nipples are pierced.”

  Deacon stared at her for a few long seconds, then grinned. “Yeah, she’s cute and perky as fuck and she gives great head. She also loves anal. Not gonna lie. Anything else you wanna know?”

  Actually, that had been too much. “Is she legal?”

  “Everybody currently standin’ on this property is legal, Reese. Trip don’t tolerate jailbait slippin’ through the cracks. He’s real particular about not lettin’ this club crash and burn a second time. And underaged girls will do that.”

  Reese rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s good you guys have some morals, then.”

  “Yeah, Mommy, we do got a few.”

  The little bit of annoyance about Brandy quickly disappeared. “You like that, do you?”

  “Never was my thing, but if it’s yours, might be willin’ to play along.”

  “Just so you know, Reilly offered up Ozzy to me, said he was closer to my age.”

  “She did what?”

  “Yes, apparently, you all are like a biker buffet, and if I get tired of one dish, I can try another.”

  Deacon scratched at his eyebrow with the tip of his thumb, then dragged his fingers down his bearded jaw.

  “I didn’t think you could be speechless,” she teased him. “Now I know. Also... just so you know, I won’t be thirty-five until next month. I’m not old enough to be your mother.”

  “Thank fuck for that. But even if you were, I’d still do ya. You’d be like a sexy MILF.”

  “Not if I’m your own mother.”

  “Fuck no... Fuck. Never mind.” He shook his head. “Let’s stop talkin’ about mothers, for fuck’s sake.”

  “That’s a good idea.” She turned toward the bar which didn’t have anyone standing behind it like at the Mill Creek. “There’s no bartender.”

  “Nope. It’s help yourself.”

  “Apparently,” she murmured as she watched another woman—this one totally naked with a set of red handprints on her ass—walk behind the bar and get on her very tiptoes to finagle a whiskey bottle off a shelf she could barely reach. When she finally got it without it crashing to the planked floor, she cracked open the full bottle and put it to her lips, taking a long swig like it was water.

  Another man came up behind her, snaked an arm around her waist, jerked her against him, dry humped her a couple times as he shouted something Reese couldn’t decipher, then he snagged the bottle from her and took a long swig himself. He kept the bottle but pushed the dark-haired, blue-eyed woman away and smacked her ass so hard that Reese could feel the sting. The woman squealed and giggled, pushing at—

  “What’s his name again?”

  Deacon’s lips twitched. “Whip.”

  —Whip’s bare chest, since the man was only wearing a pair of jeans that weren’t even fastened. They hung off his hips, showing off the top edge of black pubic hair and an actual V of muscle that disappeared into the denim.

  Reese pursed her lips. She had to admit, they grew bikers hard and healthy in this club. She mentally tossed away all her previous misconceptions about bikers.

  Or at least some of those mistaken theories.

  When Deacon didn’t answer, she pulled her attention away from the “couple” as Whip dragged a giggling—

  “What’s her name?”

  “Angel,” came out of him with a snort.

  Angel. Right. She was really young and perky, too. A bit on the skinny side, though.

  “Is she a sweet butt?”

  “Reese.”

  She locked gazes with the man standing next to her. “It’s a valid question.”

  “Who told you about sweet butts?”

  “Who do you think? Certainly not you.” Reese glanced over her shoulder to see where Whip and Angel went. Not far. The younger biker was now sitting on one of the bus benches, no longer wearing jeans, and Angel was riding his cock while drinking the whiskey straight from the bottle. Like a booze guzzling rodeo queen.

  “Does she like anal, too?”

  His muttered, “Reese,” sounded like a warning. How about that?

  “How would you rate her blowjob skills?”

  “Jesus fuck,” he muttered.

  “A ten out of ten? Does she have the capability of sucking your balls totally dry like a Wet-Vac?”

  Deacon sighed and shook his head. “She does all right.”

  “So, let me just say, I’ve never been to a party quite like this. Not even in college.”

  “This ain’t a party.”

  “It’s not? Then what is it?”

  “A typical Sunday night after a club run.”

  She raised her eyebrows, which reminded her of how messed up her face was. “This makes me feel so much better about my sister being here for the past week.”

  “Trip hasn’t approved her sweet butt status yet.”

  Reese whacked his upper arm. “That’s not even funny.”

  “Neither is you askin’ about anal and blowjobs.”

  “Well, don’t you know? I’m sure you guys have some sort of rating system.”

  “Yeah, babe, I know. And I know how good Billie gives head and Lizzy and Crystal and all the rest of them. It’s just the way it is.”

  It’s just the way it is.

  “What kind of woman would want this kind of life?”

  He leaned in really close and growled, “One who doesn’t have a stick up her ass. There isn’t one fuckin’ woman here tonight who don’t wanna be here... Includin’ you.”

  Reese sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t have a choice.” She rather had stayed in Mansfield.


  Deacon cocked an eyebrow at her. “Didn’t you?”

  “You told me I didn’t have a choice.” Did that just come out of her mouth?

  “Woman, when was the last time you did what a man told you to do?”

  Reese pinned her lips together.

  Deacon lifted a hand. “You don’t need to answer that. Already know the fuckin’ answer. Never. So, don’t fuckin’ tell me I gave you no choice. You’re fuckin’ smart and shrewd. You didn’t wanna be here, you’d find a way to get gone.”

  “I did it for my sister.”

  “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, either.” He jerked away from her and rounded the bar. He slapped two glasses onto the shellacked bar top and grabbed a bottle of tequila, pouring a couple of fingers worth in each glass.

  “Got vodka but nothin’ fancy like tonic water. Don’t got wine, either. You want some, I’ll make sure it’s stocked for next time.”

  “For when?”

  “Next time.” He slid one of the glasses in front of her.

  What next time? She and Reilly didn’t belong there. This was not their life. They were just here lying low. That was all. As soon as it was safe to go home, she was dragging Reilly out of there as fast as possible.

  She downed the tequila in one swallow, then coughed when she tried to breathe. It was almost as bad as the first time she had puffed on his joint back at her house.

  Deacon downed his tequila, set his glass back on the bar and filled both of their glasses again. He placed hers back in front of her but kept his hand on it. “Now... you done bein’ jealous?”

  She lifted her gaze from his long fingers caging in her drink—the ones that made her come earlier on his bike—and met his deep brown eyes. “You’re mistaken.”

  He tipped his head down, not breaking their locked gaze. “Sure I am.” He blinked in slow motion and smiled a smile that instantly made Reese’s panties damp. Damn him. His voice was low and gravelly when he said slowly, “Oh, yeah, I forgot. You don’t need a fuckin’ man... That is, unless he’s fuckin’ you so hard your pussy juice is runnin’ down his fuckin’ balls.”

  Suddenly, Reese couldn’t catch her breath and her nipples pressed painfully against the soft cotton V-neck tee she had worn with her jeans.

  She blinked slowly and remained focused on his face, unsure what else was going on around them. Not even caring.

  All she knew was she had been in some sort of Twilight Zone. And now reality was clubbing her over the head. Just like when Warren had struck her.

  She reminded herself of who she was, the reason she was there, how hard she had to work to get everything she had and how far she had come.

  This man before her, this club, was reminding her of a life she had worked hard to escape. She had dragged her baby sister along with her out of the darkness and into the light where they could both have a future. Good ones.

  She was not going back.

  Not ever.

  And neither was Reilly.

  She’d make sure of it.

  She slipped off the stool and glanced around until she found her sister. Ignoring Reilly’s complaints, Reese grabbed her arm and dragged her out of The Barn and back up to the apartment.

  She locked the door, even knowing full well that Deacon had a key.

  No matter how much she wanted him, this lifestyle was just too far out of her comfort zone. And, right now, having the door separating her and her sister from what surrounded them helped her gather the control that had slipped from her fingers.

  And that false sense helped her breathe a little easier.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Reese checked to see if Reilly was sleeping. She was, if the soft, steady snores coming from her sister were any indication.

  She carefully rolled out of bed and tagged the jeans she had shucked earlier. Once she hit the living room, she shimmied them up her legs and hips and under the peach satin mid-thigh chemise she had pulled on before bed. She found a pair of Reilly’s flip-flops on the floor by the couch. She slid her feet into those and her body out the front door into the mid-April night. The temperature was comfortable, and she wouldn’t need a jacket.

  A creak had her head turning and she found a bare-chested Sig sprawled in a folding chair in front of his own apartment. His denim-clad legs were extended, his knees wide, his head back and he appeared completely chill. Probably because of what was in his hand.

  “Hey.” He put the bowl to his lips and lifted a Bic to light it. She was a little impressed with how long he could hold the smoke in his lungs, before letting it roll from his lips into the ink-black sky.

  No lights lit up the second-floor landing. Only the moon and the stars.

  “Hey,” she returned the greeting, staring out into the darkness toward the open space she knew was just beyond. Stella told her the Amish farmed their fields and, in exchange, gave them an endless supply of fresh vegetables, meat, eggs and milk. “It’s peaceful out here.”

  Sig snorted. “Not always. Parties can get a little wild. So can the sex. Nobody’s shy ‘round here, so expect to see some naked tits and ass, if you haven’t already. You watch long enough, might learn a thing or two.”

  Reese’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. Maybe he was only kidding, so she played along. “I don’t think I need to learn a thing. Or even two.” And she had already seen plenty of naked bodies, and more, in the short time she spent downstairs earlier.

  “Yeah? Then Deacon’s a lucky bastard.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Sig took another puff off the bowl before offering it to her, most likely just out of courtesy. But she moved closer and snagged it from his fingers. Since the contents were still lit, she took a long inhale, hearing the crackle of the pot burning.

  “Damn, woman, didn’t expect you to take it.”

  Suddenly, she felt fifteen again and hiding behind the B-wing of her high school with her classmates. She never had time to hang out with them after school or on weekends, so she took advantage of spending time with them between classes.

  She blew the smoke out and away as she handed it back to him. She waved a hand. “Apparently, it helps me pull the stick out of my ass.”

  Sig barked out a laugh and it sounded deafening compared to the quiet night.

  “Do you know where Deacon is?”

  “Prolly down in the bunkhouse. In his old room.”

  “His old room,” Reese repeated in a murmur.

  “Yeah, he’d moved into Judge’s old apartment when the Grumpy Green Giant moved out.”

  She’d only been here one day, and she already knew who Sig was talking about. “Where did Judge go?”

  “Rented a place in town temporarily ‘til his and his ol’ lady’s house is done bein’ built.”

  She was still getting used to some of the terms these guys used. During the motorcycle ride earlier, she’d heard a few of them and asked what they meant. Apparently, Reilly had all the terms down pat already. She was fitting right in already. Which, again, worried Reese.

  In just a week, her sister had become comfortable with the MC’s way of life. Going from one bad boy like Billy to a whole club of them was not what Reese wanted for her sister’s future.

  “Oh, so they’re building their own home?” That sounded promising and responsible.

  “Yeah,” he jerked his hand toward the left, “over yonder past the tree line. Cassie’s got a kid. And Rev’s baby sister just moved in with them to be their house mouse.”

  House mouse. That was one term she hadn’t heard yet. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that meant, but asked, anyway. “What’s a house mouse?”

  “Kinda like a housekeeper. Or a housewife. Takes care of a brother and his place but ain’t an ol’ lady.”

  Great. She would now need to have a little discussion with Reilly to make sure she didn’t get the bright idea of becoming one.

  “I guess that doesn’t pay well.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ pay at all. She gets a roof over he
r head and other shit. Better deal than a sweet butt, but not the status of an ol’ lady.”

  Great. Reese wondered what the “other shit” entailed. And while Sig was a master conversationalist, she decided she’d learned enough about the club life for one night.

  “Where’s Autumn?” The redhead was young and she and Sig seemed mismatched. But she had appeared content, if not happy, while clinging to her ol’ man on the earlier club run.

  “In bed.”

  When she and Deacon finally caught up to the large group in town, the club had taken over Dino’s Diner. Sig never let Autumn out of his sight once and most of the time held onto her hand as if he was afraid she’d float away.

  Reese noticed a couple of times when the woman’s blue eyes would go completely empty. A moment later she’d snap out of it and be smiling and joining in on the rowdy conversation at the long, crowded table.

  Judge’s ol’ lady, Cassie, didn’t seem to fit in with this crowd, either. The only woman who did was Stella. She was exactly how Reese would picture a biker’s woman. She looked and acted badass when she kept the guys in line, especially when they were in town, by reminding them to behave. Almost like a den mother. She seemed the perfect partner for the club president, Trip. Reese had been surprised to see Stella had almost the same amount of authority as Trip did. Almost.

  Reese had expected a group of rough and tumble bikers to be nothing but misogynistic assholes. And while some acted like that, not all of them did. Especially the ones who had ol’ ladies. Reese was pleased to see they might be complete jerks to each other by riding each other’s asses, or even to outsiders, but they treated their women like queens.

  “I was having a hard time sleeping. You can’t sleep, either?”

  Sig lifted the bowl. “This will help.”

  “Okay, well, I need to talk to Deacon.”

  “Talk, huh?”

  It was a total lie and Sig could see right through it, but she was sticking to it. “Do you think he’s still awake?”

  “Could be.” Sig smirked. “If he is, don’t be surprised if he ain’t alone. Sweet butts were on the prowl tonight.”

  Again, that term. She was smart enough to put two and two together after what she saw downstairs. But apparently not smart enough to abandon her restless need to find Deacon.