Biker's Bride: A Bad Boy Romance (Demons MC)

by B. B. Hamel

  “No, Michael, you should watch yourself. Look around you. Everyone here knows what I’m saying is the truth. You’ve been dealing with the Russians on the sly for years, and we all turned a blind eye to it because everyone was making money. But lately, things haven’t been going so well, have they?”

  The crowd started to murmur and I felt a thrill run along my body. I knew they were hearing me, and more than a few of them agreed with me. I just needed Michael to slip up and admit it. Lately, the money that was flowing into the right people’s pockets from the big drug deals and the gun running was starting to dry up. Michael had been feuding with a few of the minor Russian bosses, which meant more bodies piling up, and less profit. When things were peaceful and prosperous, people were willing to forgive him for dealing with a rival mob. But when people were losing their lives, nobody was interested in letting Michael wage his personal wars anymore. I needed to exploit those feelings and get the crowd on my side.

  “How dare you, you little shit. After all the chances I’ve given you,” he growled, and I could tell he was rattled.

  “No more bullshit, Michael. You know I had nothing to do with how that deal went down. Let me fight for my freedom, and we’ll be square.”

  Michael stared hard at me and the crowd kept mumbling.

  “Let him fight!” someone yelled.

  “Let the kid fight!” someone else took up the cry, and the crowd suddenly started to yell and chant. I basked in the power of the crowd, their voices all raised on my behalf. Michael looked around, irate and confused, as they continued to chant for me and to jeer him. Finally, he raised his hands, signaling quiet. The noise slowly died down. I knew I had won.

  He looked at me hard for a few seconds. “Alright, you little fuck. I’ll let you fight. But I’m upping the stakes.”

  I was wary, but felt good. It wasn’t the straight out victory I had hoped for, but it was a chance. Michael could set his stakes in any way he wanted. I’d win whatever fights he threw my way.

  “What stakes then?” I said.

  “You win or you die. No more staying in debt. You win these next two fights, or else I fucking cut your throat myself.”

  The crowd reacted to that. I stared at Michael and he returned my gaze. I knew he meant his threat, and he’d do whatever it took to eliminate me. Before, if I lost a fight, I’d be indebted to him forever, no more easy chances to get out. I’d be stuck in the life of the right people, stuck as his personal muscle. I actually preferred the new deal if I was honest with myself. I couldn’t live like that anymore, no matter what. Better for Darcy too, if I were outright dead. They’d have no reason to bother her with me out of the picture completely.

  “And if I win, I’m gone. Home free. No bullshit.”

  “If you win, you’re free.”

  I looked around. “And all you right people, you thieves and goons and more, you all heard what he just said. If I win, I’m free, no bullshit.”

  The crowd cried out, “Aye!”

  “Then we have a contract,” Michael said quietly.

  I stared him down, my body vibrating with joy and righteous anger. This was the chink that I needed. He thought he had seen the best of me, what I was capable of, but he was wrong. I had pulled punches and took it easy, letting my opponents think they could keep up. But not anymore. I was going to come at his fighters with everything I had.

  “That we do,” I said.

  Michael grinned his wicked grin then crossed the room and stood close. I tensed, ready for a trick.

  “I went to see your pretty little girl,” he said to me quietly, so only I could hear.

  “If you hurt her—”

  He interrupted me “Relax, son. She’s fine. All we did was check to see if you were there. Didn’t even rough her up.” He paused and stared at me. “But I know where she lives.”

  “You motherfucker.” It took everything I had not to attack him then and there. It would have meant death, but breaking his disgusting pig nose would’ve felt sweet.

  He smiled huge and held his hand out. I took it, and we shook hard. I stared at him and he returned my gaze, grinning the whole time.

  Finally, we let go, and he returned to his side of the circle. I had no people on my side, but I didn’t need any. All I needed was the will to survive, and I had plenty of that.

  “Well, lads, who wants to see a fucking fight!” he yelled, and the crowd went insane, high on blood lust and fear. It wasn’t often that Michael made a blood pact like the one he just made, but it sure as hell made for an exciting night. The people were ready for some violence, and I was ready to give it to them.

  “Let’s get to it then,” he yelled, and then retreated to the circle’s edge.

  I stood alone in the circle, facing the muscled monster, his face passive and his eyes empty. I pulled off my shirt and stared him down, allowing my breath to calm, and my muscles to relax. The tattoos running up my arms and along my torso were living reminders, inked in blood and pain, that life was suffering, and only the strong survived.

  I was the strong.

  I was going to beat the living piss out of this stranger. I was going to beat him until he couldn’t stand straight, beat him with every ounce of energy I had in my body. I was going to pound his skull into the dirt for Darcy’s sake, and for my own.

  We each took a few steps nearer to each other, and as the crowd reached a frenzied pitch, he lunged at me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I stared at the door and imagined thousands of different scenarios for what was on the other side. It was Michael, it was Shane, it was the police, it was worse. Finally, I worked up the courage to look through the peephole. What I saw caused my body to tense with shock.

  Rex gazed back, his brow bloodied, his right eye swollen, but his mouth grinning with a wild joy. I ripped the door open like it couldn’t move fast enough.

  “Rex!” I threw my arms around him. He grunted in response.

  “Easy,” he said. I caught myself, and looked him over. He was obviously hurt, but he was there and he was alive. I gently kissed his mouth, and he kissed me back.

  “Where have you been?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Inside.”

  I led him in and closed the door behind us, quickly securing the deadbolt. I turned and found him leaning against the wall, still grinning, but tired. He looked haggard and in pain, but his grin said he was in a great mood.

  “What happened?” I closed the space between us and gingerly touched his swollen eye. He winced but didn’t pull away.

  “Won my fight,” he said.

  “Are you done?”

  He shook his head softly. “Not yet, but close. I have one more to go, next week.”

  “You’re fighting a week from now?”

  “Yeah, and then it’ll all be over.”

  “But you’re not going to be healed by then.”

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be fine.”

  “No, Rex. You need to see a doctor.”

  He shook his head. His eyes looked sad. “I can’t see a doctor. They’ll ask questions, maybe bring heat down on me.” He paused, and looked at me seriously. “Promise you won’t tell anyone about this,” he said.

  I sighed then kissed him softly again. “Of course. Get inside, on the couch. I’ll get you some ice.”

  He grinned. “That’s the spirit. Be my sexy nurse.”

  I smiled back. What an asshole. “Find me a costume and I’ll wear it.”

  He moved away from the wall and hobbled over to the couch. “Don’t think I can’t make that happen.”

  I went into the kitchen and took out a dishtowel. I opened the freezer and filled it with ice. I twisted the end and brought it out to him. I was a mess of conflicting emotions. I was terrified of Michael, I was afraid for Rex and his injuries, but more than anything else, I was beyond overjoyed to see him again. I realized that his absence had only stoked my fears, and that his reappearance made everything okay again.

>   “I absolutely expect that to happen.” I gently placed the ice against his eye, and his fingers brushed against mine as he took the bundle from me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “What are you sorry for?”

  He looked away from me, ice against his face. I sat down next to him.

  “I know Michael was here,” he said.

  I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure what to say. It was true, but I didn’t blame Rex for any of it. I chose to be a part of his world. I knew what I wanted.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said.

  “It is my fault, damn it. I’m sorry.”

  “I make my own decisions. Stop acting like you control what I do.”

  He sighed. “God, if you weren’t so fucking sexy when you acted like a spoiled brat, I’d be pissed at you right now.”

  I wrapped my arm gently around his shoulder and felt the muscles in his arms. I kissed his neck softly and breathed his smell deeply. He was sweat and blood and dirt, and it smelled perfect.

  “You can’t always protect me. You said it yourself.”

  “I can try,” he said. I believed that he would.

  “So where have you been all this time?”

  “Stayed with a friend of mine in Chinatown. This shitty, horrible basement. Did nothing but work out and rest.”

  “How did you get out of trouble?”

  He grinned. “Michael’s control of the gang has been shaky for a while. All I had to do was show up and call him on his bullshit. People supported me.”

  “And what, he just dropped it?”

  “No, not exactly. He was forced to give me a shot, though.”

  “What now?”

  He turned his head and looked at me with his good eye. It struck me all over, the deep green pool of it, but tainted by the bruise. On the one hand, he was beyond sexy, but on the other, he was covered in injuries. I wondered if I could come on to him without accidentally making him curl up in pain.

  “Now, I heal up, and get ready to win my next fight.”

  “What happens if you don’t?”

  He shook his head. “I’m going to.”

  I nuzzled his neck and smelled his sweat again. “I believe you.”

  He laughed. “Down girl.”

  “What?” I whispered in his ear, my hand running up his thigh. “I’m just trying to be your sexy nurse.”

  “Not sure I’m physically well enough right now to play rough.”

  “Who said anything about you doing work?”

  He turned his head at me, a small grin on his face. I felt him through his gym shorts and slowly rubbed his length. I kissed his lips softly as I slowly worked him, and I felt him grow hard in my hand.

  “Missed me, didn’t you?” he said.

  “Yes,” I answered, as he grew harder.

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  His devilish grin spread wider. “Stand up.”

  I gaped at him, surprised by how forceful he sounded, then smiled. I stood up in front of him, feeling excited. He spread his legs and leaned back on the couch.

  “Now strip.”

  I stared at him for a second, but his grin didn’t leave his face, and I knew he was being serious. Something about his commanding tone made me want to obey, and I desperately wanted his body. I slowly pulled my shirt up over my head, and I caught his eyes rake hungrily along the length of my body. I smiled and turned my back to him as I slid my shorts slowly down my legs. He let out a small grunt as I stood back up, wearing only my bra and black thong. I unhooked the clasps on my bra and slid it off, covering my full breasts with my arms.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  I turned, still covering myself. He looked at me hungrily, and I could see the outline of his hard rod through his shorts.

  “Don’t be a tease,” he said.

  “You like my teasing,” I answered. I put one finger in my mouth and slowly moved my arms, letting him get the full view of my erect, pink nipples.

  “That’s better,” he grunted.

  I moved toward him, and then dropped onto my knees in front of him.

  “Is this what you want?” I asked.

  “I haven’t been able to get this image out of my head,” he said.

  I grinned, the thrill of his body running through me. I was soaking wet, but wanted to make him feel better more than I wanted to get off. Something about his broken body made me need to take care of him in every way possible. I reached forward and pulled his shorts down, followed by his tight black boxer briefs. My fingers ran over his muscled thighs, and his huge stiffness slid out from under the fabric of his clothes. I gaped at it for a second, having forgotten how thick it was. I reached forward and slowly stroked its length, and he grunted.

  “I want to make you feel better,” I said.

  “You’re doing a good job.”

  I spit in my hand and rubbed the moisture over his length. I started to move my hand faster while his eyes were locked on my breasts, his breath ragged grunts of pleasure.

  “Do you like this?” I asked.

  He grunted his approval as I moved my body forward and slowly licked him root to tip. I tasted his salt and sweat and loved it, excitement brimming over. I slowly took his tip into my mouth and sucked it hard, running my tongue in circles around him. I heard him groan as I slid it further into my mouth. I took as much of him as I could, hungry and greedy for more, needing every inch.

  I backed off and ran my other hand along his length as I sucked his tip and worked him with my tongue. He groaned and grunted his pleasure, and I sucked and moved faster. I needed him, and wished he weren’t so broken. I could see bruising on his lower, chiseled abs, and could only guess at how bad his ribs were. I gingerly touched the bruising with my free hand as I moved his cock from my mouth and stroked him.

  “Does it hurt?” I asked.

  “Not anymore.”

  I smiled and kissed the bruise. He grinned, and I moved back toward his cock, his whole length moist and rock hard. He wrapped his fingers behind my head and put a small amount of pressure as I slid his cock into my mouth again. I loved the control and power he exerted over me, loved that he pressed me down but not too hard. What followed wasn’t aggressive or cruel, but full of energy and passion. It was his excellent hands in my hair, the feeling of his body against mine, and his low, greedy grunts.

  I took him fully and suppressed a gag, needing to taste his cock, to make him feel better. He groaned as I moved back and began to suck hard and fast, working his length with my other hand. I moved that way, sucking hard and fast, and I felt his whole body stiffen in response. I spread my legs out to get more leverage and worked him, letting the moisture spread across his cock as I worked him with my other hand. I felt his hands tense in my hair as he let out a low groan.

  I tasted his cum before I realized he was finishing. He let it out into my mouth in great spurts, and I swallowed every bit of it as he groaned through his orgasm. I continued to slowly move along his length as he came, and once he was done, I licked off every bit of cum and saliva from his length. I wanted to take care of him, and I wanted to clean him. I felt responsible in some bizarre way for his injuries, and nothing brought me more joy and pleasure in that moment than to make him feel good, even if only for a few seconds.

  “Fuck, that was what I needed,” he said.

  I smiled up at him. His face was radiant and beautiful, despite the swelling and the bruises.

  “Good, I’m glad,” I said.

  He reached down and pulled me up to him, onto the couch. I was surprised all over how easily he could lift me, and I felt the power in his muscles, all despite his injuries. He kissed me deeply and passionately, and I sunk into his embrace. The world fell away.

  “I’m glad you didn’t run,” he said quietly.

  “I’m glad you came back.”

  We sat there in each other’s embrace, not thinking about the future or about t
he past, but enjoying each other’s presence, our breathing quiet and synchronized.

  Chapter Seventeen

  We spent the next day lying around my apartment. I decided to take the following week off work to be able to spend it with Rex. Neither of us was willing to say it out loud, but that may have been our last time together if the fight didn’t go well. He refused to mention it, and I didn’t want to make him worry about it anymore than he already was. Plus, his body was wrecked in a bad way, and it wasn’t for another day that he felt well enough to get out of bed and walk around, let alone go anywhere. He had been running on pure post-fight adrenaline when he showed up at my apartment.

  He was quiet about his suffering, but I knew he was in a lot of pain. I changed his bandages and replaced his ice amidst too many lame sexy nurse jokes, but I laughed at them every time. For some reason, no matter what he said, it made me smile.

  We had an unspoken agreement that he would stay with me until his last fight. I had a feeling he was afraid of leaving me alone, or maybe he was more worried about his injuries than he let on. I didn’t mind him being around; in fact, I would have felt hollow and lonely if he had left. I was anxious about what Michael would do if he knew that Rex was staying with me, but I assumed we were safe so long as we stayed inside. Nobody seemed to have followed him to my place that night at least, although I had a feeling we were being watched.

  “Think we can leave today?” I asked him a few days later. The fight was only two days out, and I was starting to feel a little stir crazy.

  “We can leave whenever. I just haven’t had a reason.”

  I laughed. Typical of him to downplay the danger, but I knew he was staying indoors for the same reason I was.

  “Well, let’s take a day trip. It’s nice out.”

  He looked thoughtful. “Where do you want to go?”

  I wasn’t sure. He had just recently felt well enough to move around, which meant we were finally able to explore other physical relationships as well. I had been dying to touch him again after that first night, but he seemed too broken to jostle too much. He had made it up to me in spades, though.