Going Down Easy: A Rebel Wayfarers MC & Incoherent MC Crossover Novel

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Quack fuckin’ quack. Motherfucking asshole.” Jock saw Po’Boy coming their way, Wrench at his shoulder. “Fucking IMC always getting in the way of what I wanna do. Dammit, Twisted, did you already make a spiel? Did you make your pitch while my back was fuckin’ turned? Goddamn motherfucker. You did, didn’t you?”

  Twisted’s beard split and white shone through. “Ayeap.”

  “Goddammit to fucking hell. I wanted him for CoBos.” Po’Boy’s scowl was fierce. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

  “Uh, mebbe because I’m standing on Incoherent right fuckin’ now. Why wouldn’t I do that? You ever know me to go easy?” Twisted’s returning scowl was made a lie by the genuine amusement in his tone. “I ain’t one who reckons things like that. My patch, my ground, my pitch.”

  The quick back-and-forth soothed Jock as the easy comfort between these men rose. This was a brotherhood, like what the Rebels had.

  No maybes about it. If I want it, I can have this.

  He knew Mason wouldn’t naysay him. Not over this.

  Jock could have it all.

  ***

  Silly

  She’d been watching him closely, a churn in her gut that said IMC inviting them here, nearly strong-arming Jock to drive her car to the clubhouse after leaving Trudette’s, they’d have an ulterior motive. Penny had eased her mind slightly with just how open and welcoming she’d been, free with hilarious stories about her “boys” as she called them, a term that seemed to encompass the entirety of the IMC and CoBos memberships.

  With her uncle being one of the CoBos founders and an officer back under Ace’s rule, both men she’d spoken of with great affection, Penny straddled two clubs in a more direct way than Silly did. Somehow Penny’d managed to hook her wagon to Twisted, the powerhouse of a club president that not whispers but shouts had reached Chicago about. He’d taken on not one but two clubs at the same time, gone to war and come out the other side a legend.

  With an eye roll, Penny had verified some of the more fantastic stories that Silly had discounted, and even now, looking at Twisted standing there talking to Jock, she could not process how the man and woman had lived through what happened and made their way together to this.

  The stress and strain she’d watched build on Jock’s face were slowly bleeding away, comfort and ease taking their place. Whatever was going to happen had happened, and he wasn’t walking away. He gave her his eyes again, and his face softened, his expression going sweet when she blew him another kiss.

  “It’s going to be okay.” Penny’s soft words struck Silly hard, and she turned to stare at the woman. Hair as wild as Silly’s was on any given day, Penny’s was a brilliant, strong auburn that said she’d earned her given name early. “On the way to Trudette’s, Twisted was shouting back and forth with Po’Boy, arguing who’d get to have him. Po’Boy got distracted and Twisted got in there first. I’m going to say that with this happening, you should prepare to have your man movin’ here sooner rather than later.”

  “I just want him to be good. He’s steady with his brothers, loves the work at the garage, and if I’m in his bed, we’ll beat back his dreams.” She saw two more men make their way to where he stood, hands outstretched for a shake and introduction, and a moment later, she heard the gruff tones of the three men in a shared “Oorah.”

  “It’ll be good, Silly. Swear. If IMC isn’t a fit, CoBos aren’t far, and Ace is already pissed he didn’t get a clear shot at talking him over. Ace’s strong and steady, and I love him like he’s my uncle, but when he shines brightest is while working with the men coming back from overseas.” Penny reached out and wrapped her fingers around Silly’s forearm. “If you’re good, your man’ll be good.”

  Silly took a deep breath, did a little shimmy to shrug off the tension that had built in her limbs, and shared, “The shop is beyond expectation, and if Jock’s happy, then I’m happy.”

  Penny smiled at her, her expression brilliant and pleased. “He’ll be happy because you will be.”

  “I’ll work my ass off to make it so.” Silly felt her chin lift as she made this promise.

  “And that’s why it’ll be just like I laid it out.” Penny’s grin didn’t lessen, didn’t falter, and Silly found herself returning it.

  “You’re a hoot, woman.”

  ***

  Jock

  “Jock.” Silly’s cry was soft, rising to a keen on his next thrust. The quaver rolling through her tone made his cock jerk in response. “Baby.”

  Jock wrapped his fingers around her waist, her silken, inked skin hot under his touch. She sagged towards his chest, head hanging as she clenched hard around him, lost in the bliss he was giving her. The sleek glide of her pussy was glorious torture as her pace remained steady at a slow and maddening rate. “Silly, I need to move, baby. Want to watch you take me.”

  “Just a few more…” She trailed off as she rose and fell over him again, panting out his name when he tipped his hips, working a different angle. “Jock, my God.” She tightened around him in waves, her pussy rippling as it milked his cock.

  Done with waiting, he didn’t give her any warning, taking the necessary steps to rev things to a higher level. Heels to the mattress, he spread his knees and powered up into her, lifting and dropping her onto his shaft while the orgasm continued rolling through her. He watched her nipples tighten, pebbling into rosy peaks, and felt his balls draw up when she offered a soft moan. Her fingers were spread across his chest, holding herself in place, as he fucked her from underneath. Three or four minutes passed, his breath coming ragged and fast, and her head lifted. Eyes bright, she dug her nails into his skin and tensed her legs, taking over the act of rising and falling, taking his cock.

  “There, baby,” he grunted, gaze fixed on her face, watching as the daze washed away slowly. She caught her bottom lip in her teeth, rolled it out slowly, and nodded, kicking up the pace. “I’m right fuckin’ there.”

  She nodded and took it when he thrust up and held himself rooted inside her as far as he could get, grinding their hips together, the walls of her pussy fluttering as he pulled another pulse of pleasure from her. Knifing up, he sat and wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her close and dipping his mouth to her tit before he sucked hard, drawing her deep.

  “Jock.” Her lips grazed his temple.

  “Love you, baby.” He released his hold on her to give her those words, smiling against her skin when she tightened around him. “You like hearing it.”

  “I love knowing it,” she returned, and he tipped his head up and captured her lips, kissing her like she was the sweetest taste he’d ever had in his mouth, because she was.

  Only The Best

  Jock

  “Did you see my sister?” That was Mason’s first question when Jock video-called the next morning.

  Jock paused, wondering at the brusque tone. “No, should I have?”

  “You remember Justine went missing and was rescued?” Jock flinched at the memory of the tense faces around the clubhouse, half a dozen men riding out like the devil was chasing them. Mason nodded at his reaction and gave Jock another piece of a puzzle he didn’t know he needed. “Wildman was that rescue.”

  “No shit?” Mason shook his head, face solemn. Jesus. That tie spoke volumes and underscored the tense desire the IMC had in pulling Jock into the fold. “I knew it was IMC but didn’t hear the particulars. The man’s name was familiar, but I didn’t put it together. There a reason they’re keeping a low profile?”

  “She’s keeping it quiet until she can bow out from her job. But then, she’s assured me she’s gonna be in Hammond for good.” Mason smiled, and the fondness on his face tugged at Jock’s heartstrings. “Be good for her. She had a man who wasn’t afraid to take her in hand and keep her from doin’ stupid-ass shit like get kidnapped.” His gaze sharpened. “I hear Wildman’s that man. What’s your take on him?”

  “Solid. Man is solid and respected by both IMC and CoBos.” He grinned as he remembered the
rising calls of “Quack, quack,” finally explained by Busk. “Justine could do worse.” A thought struck him, and he hummed for a moment then observed, “That’ll be all the women in your life hooked up with bikers, though. How you feel about that?”

  “Man, Dolly is not old enough to hook up, and thank God for that shit. But when she is, if she does?” Mason smiled that soft smile again. Good to see him so happy. “Long as he’s good to her, you think I’ll give a shit?”

  Oh, that was a fuckin’ lie. Jock couldn’t let it pass, needing to get at least one harmless dig in. “I dunno, boss. I heard hella stories about your fight to keep Bethy and Fury apart.”

  “Different days, brother. Different days.” Mason lifted his chin. “Now, to the matter you called about. How long do I get to keep you?”

  “What?” How the hell would he know what I’m thinking? Jock shook his head. “What do you mean?”

  “How long, Jock? You got three builds goin’, and Red’s already pissed that he’s had to put off that shit. You want Bear to pick ’em up and finish, or you comin’ back to tidy your shit?” Mason gestured off camera, and Gunny stalked into frame, already glowering at Jock. “Gunny’s offered to be your beatout.”

  Jock remembered the look on Silly’s face when she blew him that kiss. Remembered her riding his dick last night after they got home, and that was before he told her about the offer he’d gotten. And he also remembered the hope and cautious excitement in her eyes when he did recount his conversations. Be worth it, he thought. Be worth anything.

  Squaring his shoulders, he stared at the two men for a moment, then took a hard breath. “If it’s gotta go that way, I’ll come back just for the beatout.” He swallowed and nodded, throat tight. “I’ll finish my builds, too, if you’ll let me.”

  “Jesus, brother.” Gunny’s guttural words tore a hole through him. “Fuck, man, you know I’m from there, right?”

  “Hammond?” Gunny dipped his chin to his throat, and Jock let his head swing slowly back and forth, never losing sight of Gunny’s pained expression. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Near enough. My granny’s buried in Acadia Parish.” Gunny’s scowl deepened, brows drawing together. “We’re really going to lose you?”

  “It’s the only way I can see keepin’ Silly how I want to keep her.” Jock pressed his face closer to the phone, needing Gunny of all people to understand. “I love her, Lane. Moon and back, she’s it for me.”

  “I know, Jake. See it on your face every time you look at her. I get it, man. I totally get it.” Gunny blew out a harsh breath. “Don’t mean it doesn’t suck ass like a motherfucker, but I get it.”

  “Twisted called me.” Mason had stepped back while Gunny and Jock talked, but he took his place beside Gunny again now. “Before he went to Trudette’s, he called me. Asked me what kind of man I’d sent to his patch.” He paused, and when Jock stayed silent, asked, “You wanna know what I told him?”

  Jock nodded and gave it to him. He was more than curious about that conversation. “Yeah, boss. I do.”

  “Only the best.” Mason pointed his finger at the camera, and Jock felt a phantom poke in his chest. “That’s what I told him. Only the best. Don’t prove me wrong.” He heaved out a sigh and tipped his chin down. “We’ll see you in a few days, brother. Call or text when you’re on your way.”

  “Will do.” Stunned by Mason’s statement, that was all he could choke out.

  Gunny turned to look at Mason, and Mason’s head dropped back as he heaved another heavy sigh. “Fuck no, I won’t make you give him a beatout. What the hell do you think, Gunny? What the fuck?”

  The video disconnected and Jock locked his phone, shoving it deep in his pocket with a sigh.

  He softly echoed Mason’s words, the wonder heating his chest making his words sound rough and gritty. “Only the best.”

  ***

  Silly

  Tired and hungry, and already anticipating the video chat she and Jock had planned for later that night, Silly parked her car in front of the apartment and swung out, not taking time to look around the lot before she headed to her front door. She’d been in the shop for more than fourteen hours, and lunch had been half a sandwich nearly ten hours in the past, so all she wanted to do was bolt some food and then veg on the couch until Jock called. So it was a surprise when she heard a man’s voice call her name. “Silly, hey.”

  Key in the lock, she turned to find a man she vaguely recognized from the IMC blowout standing about three feet away. “Yes?” No matter that she knew who he belonged to, she took the cautious route, removed the key without turning it, and threaded her keys between her fingers. Her guns were in the apartment, her knife in the car. Without anyone at her back, the makeshift knuckles would have to do if something bad came out from whatever this was.

  He frowned and executed a long step backwards, giving her another couple feet of space. “Hey, honey, didn’t mean to take you by surprise. Just wanted to chat.”

  “The shop has a phone. Not even cups on a string, it’s real and shit, even has voice mail.” She told him the same thing she would have said to Slate, or Bones, and like those men, he grinned at her sass. “If it was important and I wasn’t there, which I was all day, they could have called my cell.”

  “Wanted to chat face-to-face.” He paused, tipped his head to one side, and she didn’t know what to do with the flare of annoyance that crossed his face. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” Silly shook her head, and he gave her a chin lift as he declared his name. “Wildman.”

  “Pleased. Now back to what you wanted?” She shifted her weight and saw he noted it, giving her another tiny frown. “Wildman?”

  “Your man’s RWMC.” He stated something still true, so she gave him that and nodded. “I’m IMC.”

  “Clued in on that from your cut.” She shook her head. “Seriously, what do you want, Wildman? I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I want to sit down.”

  “Easier for me to show you. And then we’ll take it inside.” It was her turn to frown at his self-declared invitation, because he didn’t come in her direction at all but turned and waved at a truck down the way. A woman climbed out and turned towards them as she shut the door. The first glimpse of her face made Silly’s breath catch in her throat. She didn’t have to see him to know he was grinning broadly when he muttered an introduction that wasn’t an introduction. “My woman.”

  Silly smiled big at the carbon copy of Mason walking her way.

  ***

  Jock

  Ass to the floor of the porch, he leaned back against a post, angled so he could see Gunny and Sharon lounging on the swing but still be able to glance out over the lake. Jase, DeeDee, Tyler, Jonny, and the rest of their crew of kids were in the water, Cade, Kitten, and even little Josh paddling around them, heads held up out of the water by vests and other floaties. Tank padded along the edges of the water restlessly, his groans of unhappiness able to be heard over the shouted laughter of the kids. Gunny’s dogs were tired from earlier swim time and lay in the dirt along the path to the water, tails and paws jerking in doggie dreams.

  “You’re sure about this?” Gunny’s gruff question came again, something like the tenth time he’d asked. “You check out the VA down there? Got a doc lined up?”

  Jock kept watching Jase as he lifted Josh high, then dropped him into the water, catching him just as he hit and keeping the boy from dunking entirely under the water. Tank chewed on a bark, the sound coming out like an old man’s grumble, subsiding when Jase acknowledged the dog with a look. Jock smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Ace, he’s a founder for the Caddo Hobos, he hooked me up with his doc’s info. Sounds like a good guy, a lot like what we’ve got in Bulldog. I called yesterday to have my files transferred down. I’m covered. It should be good, brother.”

  “It fuckin’ well better be.” Gunny’s grumble came out as if it had been pushed through gritted teeth, and the comparison between his irritated and anxious tone and how Tank sounded didn’t escape Jock.
He stifled the grin that caused and nodded again. Silence for a moment, then more grumbling. “How the fuck is my boy gonna know his uncle, you move down there?”

  Jock twisted his neck to see Sharon smiling fondly up at her husband, head on his shoulder, body sprawled across his much like Silly had been on Jock only weeks ago. She was showing, just barely, her belly softly rounded. Still, Gunny’s hand rested protectively across where his son was growing.

  Right here was where Silly had forced the discussion about kids, something Jock hadn’t forgotten, and he made a vow right there to bring her back here when she was carrying, re-create the moment, and let them bask in the knowledge that their love hadn’t faltered one iota.

  “I’ll be back up here to visit.” He shrugged. “And you’ll be down to see Vanna. It’s not a far jump along the Gulf to come and see me.” He leaned forwards, looped his arms around his knees, and told Gunny seriously, “I’m not about to lose the brother who saved my life. You and me, we’re tight, and distance ain’t gonna fuck that up, man.”

  “It better goddamned well not, or I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

  “Gunny,” Sharon interjected, voice shaking with laughter. “That’d kind of make it a moot point.”

  “I don’t fuckin’ care. He knows what I mean.” Gunny hadn’t taken his eyes off Jock, and the glare intensified as he muttered, “Best man I ever met, sittin’ right here on my goddamned porch, and him about to take that goodness down and spread it along the coast. You straighten up their shit, you hear me?”

  “Are you really tellin’ me that shit?” Jock knew his voice was disbelieving, but then again, he knew all the Rebels, and with the qualities Mason and Slate, Jase, Bones, and all the others brought to the table, there was no way Jock would believe himself worthy of that title.