by Chiah Wilder
Axe’s Fall
AN INSURGENTS MC ROMANCE
Chiah Wilder
Copyright © 2016 by Chiah Wilder
Kindle Edition
Editing by Hot Tree Editing
Cover design by Cheeky Covers
Proofreading by Wyrmwood Editing
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Description
The first time Axe saw her at his friend’s wedding, he knew she’d have her long legs wrapped around his waist, moaning and begging for more.
A member of the Insurgents Motorcycle Club, Axe has the tattoos, the ripped body, and the badass attitude. He’s great in bed and always leaves women pleading for more. But…
Don’t ask him to commit.
Don’t ask for a phone call.
Don’t expect anything but wild, mind-blowing sex.
That’s the way he rolls…
Until he meets her.
It was a one-night stand.
He was gone before she woke up.
Finished. Done. Moved on.
Except he can’t stop thinking about her.
What the f*&k?!
Baylee Peters has thrown herself obsessively into her career vying for the brass ring of partnership at one of the most prestigious architecture firms in Denver. Not wanting any distractions, she has shelved romance. Nothing can stand in her way.
Until she meets him.
The dark-haired man with the smoldering eyes and tatted, chiseled body who makes her insides melt.
It was just for one night. So what if the sex was incredible?
Then work takes her to Pinewood Springs. And to him. Her ordered world explodes.
As if she didn’t have enough trouble with a sexy, bad boy biker whom she can’t stop drooling over, her memory of the night her mother was murdered is coming back, and the killer is waiting to make sure no one knows what she remembers.
Can Baylee trust Axe enough to let him into her life and take control? Can he save her before a determined killer takes away Axe’s one chance at happiness?
Axe vows to protect her, and he will stop at nothing until he makes her his woman.
The Insurgents MC series are standalone romance novels. This is Axe and Baylee’s love story. This book contains violence, strong language, and steamy/graphic sexual scenes. It describes the life and actions of an outlaw motorcycle club. HEA. No cliffhangers! The book is intended for readers over the age of 18.
Previous Titles in the Series:
Hawk’s Property: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 1
Jax’s Dilemma: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 2
Chas’s Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 3
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Description
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
About Banger’s Ride
Chiah Wilder’s Other Books
Prologue
Summer, 1998
Denver, Colorado
The man’s voice shattered the quietude. Baylee hugged her stuffed rabbit closer and held her breath. It wasn’t her father’s voice; he was out on business and wouldn’t be back until the morning. She pulled the covers over her head and wished the fear creeping inside her would crawl away.
Silence.
The young girl let out a small breath, closed her eyes, and let sleep replace the fear from a few minutes before.
Crash! Baylee jerked up in her bed, her rabbit clutched to her side, her heart slamming against her chest. Her mother’s sobs pierced the veil of normalcy. Mommy’s in trouble.
Baylee scrambled out of her twin bed and padded to the stairs. From the glow of the fireplace, she saw figures dancing on the walls like shadow puppets. One was tall and gripping, the other was short, curvy, and struggling.
“Please, don’t. Leave now. Please,” her mother said in a voice laced in panic.
“Give me what you’ve been teasing me with for a long time. You think you can flirt with me then turn me off? You know you want this.”
“I don’t. Stop. If you don’t stop, I’m going to tell John when he gets back.”
“Just one kiss and I’ll go. Come on, you know you want it.”
The young child quietly descended the stairs until she was more than halfway down. She sat on the carpeted step and clung to the white-painted wooden dowels, peering through them as though they were a looking glass into a world of shadows and fear.
“Stop it! Please,” Baylee’s mother cried out as she grabbed something on the cabinet next to her.
The scene played out on the walls of the living room: her mother bending her arm and hitting the man’s head, his hand grabbing his head then slapping her mother so hard she fell on the floor, the tall outline then pouncing on her mother. Her mother’s gasps and muffled screams became weaker, and her body stopped moving.
Baylee leapt up and rushed into the room, screaming, “Mommy! Don’t hurt my mommy. Mommy!”
The man, startled, jumped up and approached the young girl, his eyes flashing. She backed up and ran to the front door. Her high-pitched screams rang out through the neighborhood, and neighbors came out on their front porches to see what had punctured the stillness of the night.
A loud thump on the door made the man turn and run out of the house through the back.
“What’s going on in there?” a deep voice asked on the other side of the door.
“My mommy’s hurt. She’s not moving,” Baylee answered, her voice small. The shrill wail
of police sirens echoed eerily in the distance, coming closer.
By the time the cops entered the house, the young girl was kneeling by her lifeless mother—Baylee’s eyes unblinking, her body stiff. Even though warm hands touched her, the child had retreated to the world where nightmares lived, where blackness surrounded everything.
From that night on, Baylee Peters’s memory would be filled with shadows and darkness.
Chapter One
Seventeen years later
Summer
Denver, Colorado
Nice ass. Wonder what the front of her looks like. Axe admired the shapely brunette in the pew across the aisle from him in the church. Her celery-green cocktail dress molded over her curvy hips and stopped mid-thigh, revealing long, well-defined tanned legs. Axe’s gaze lingered as he imagined them wrapped around his waist while he slammed his cock into her. His body tightened and his fingers itched to dig into her fleshy hips while he spread her “fuck me” legs wide and rammed into her from behind, watching her hot ass jiggle.
Shifting, he readjusted his pants as he raised his eyes to glossy, dark brown hair falling down her back. The setting sun bathed her hair in warm yellow and red hues as it streamed in through the stained glass windows. The impulse to touch it was strong, and he could almost feel the silky strands wrapped around his hand as he pulled her head back while he pounded his dick in her.
The priest said in a clear voice, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Axe pulled his eyes away from the luscious creature across from him and watched as Derek, one of his best buddies from childhood, walked down the aisle with his new bride. Axe hadn’t wanted to come to Denver for a wedding, of all things, and he’d made up some bullshit about not being able to go, but when Derek called and told him he had to be there, period, Axe relented and rode his Harley the three hours to make it.
He and Derek had been buds since they were five years old. They had formed an allegiance early on, Axe beating up the bullies who picked on Derek in the trailer park where they grew up. Right from the start, they’d been tight, their time together meaning less time spent in their not-so-happy homes. Derek’s mother was a drunk, and his father was a cruel man who loved to torment anyone who crossed his path. He spent many nights at Axe’s trailer, trying to keep out of his dad’s way. When someone finally shot the bastard late one summer night, the park rejoiced, and Derek changed forever. He was no longer the kid afraid of his shadow, the one whose blue eyes were sad and haunted most of the time. Derek seemed to relax for the first time in his life.
Axe noticed Derek’s mother sitting in the front row of the church, her eyes watery and her face leathered and wrinkled from years of too much sun and booze. Her favorite thing to do most mornings, after she’d woken up hungover, was to stretch out on a cheap, plastic chaise lounge in a tiny bikini, which left little to the imagination, and take in the rays as she sipped her first of many glasses of bourbon.
The first time Axe had seen Mrs. Keary in her skimpy bikini, he’d been around thirteen years old. Watching her breasts swing under a pink top which barely held them in had mesmerized the young boy, and he’d felt something funny grab him in his crotch. The side view of Mrs. Keary had shown white, round flesh spilling out. He’d known he shouldn’t have stared, but the sight of it had made him feel weird and excited. Then she’d caught him, and her throaty laugh mocked him.
She’d looked at him, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. “Like what you’re seeing?”
He didn’t answer, too embarrassed at being caught checking out his best friend’s mother’s breasts.
“Come on over and touch them, if you like. I’m not gonna tell.”
Shaking his head, he’d run away, her raspy laughter following him.
From that day on, Axe had made sure he wasn’t around when Mrs. Keary sunbathed.
There, in the church, she looked like a used up, old hag. He hadn’t seen her since they all moved from the trailer park many years back.
Derek and his mom moved to Denver during high school, and Axe had joined up with the Insurgents MC when he was seventeen. Even though their paths went in different directions, they’d stayed in touch, seeing each other whenever Derek came to Pinewood Springs. When he’d told Axe he was tying the knot, Axe was happy for him. For such a long time, his buddy had seemed lost. Why he wanted to tie himself down to one pussy was hard for Axe to understand, but it seemed like Derek was happy with the chick who donned his ring, so Axe was cool with that.
As Derek and his new wife walked down the aisle, past Axe, he high-fived Derek, who grinned back. Turning his head around, he searched for the hot woman in the green dress, but she was gone. What the fuck? Where the hell did she go? He wanted to see her face, because if she looked anything like the back of her, he was going to have to fuck her before the night was over. Wasn’t that supposed to happen at weddings—random sex? If he had to drag his ass to Denver to suffer through a wedding ceremony, he was determined to have some action before he headed back home. He’d definitely be looking for the green-dressed babe at the reception.
* * *
The reception was in one of the large ballrooms at the Excelsior Hotel on 15th Street. Through the large windows, the skyscrapers looked as if they could touch the clouds. The lights of the surrounding buildings winked and sparkled as night descended.
Large, round tables dotted the ballroom, and silver and blue crepe paper streamed down from the chandeliers. Large, tissue wedding bells dangled from the ceiling, and a large paper-flower backdrop covered the wall behind the wedding party table.
“May I help you, sir?” a woman dressed in black pants and a starched white shirt asked him.
“Trying to find my table,” Axe replied.
The waitperson searched the guest list and directed Axe to table number eight. Looking around, he spotted the bar on the other side of the room and made his way over to grab a beer. A group of three women in their early twenties giggled and raked their gazes over his muscular body. His normal attire of blue jeans, black t-shirt, and his Insurgents’ leather cut had been replaced by dress clothes: white dress shirt molded over his ripped chest and sculpted biceps, and black pants fitting snug across his firm ass and bulge.
Axe checked out the women openly; they were dressed in silk and satin cocktail dresses. They all had the same hairstyle, were blondes, and teetered on very high heels. One of the women, the one with the cherry-red strapless dress, had nice tits, but he wasn’t interested. He was looking for a woman in a celery-green dress.
Knowing the women were going to approach him, he threw them a charming smile, winked at them, and headed back toward his table. The high-pitched giggling from the group grated on his nerves.
As he walked, he saw Mrs. Keary scrambling toward him. Pretending not to see her, he changed his direction, but his friend’s mother caught up to him, clutching his arm with her bony hand.
“Hello, Michael. It’s been a long time.” She moved her eyes up and down his body, lingering a little too long on his crotch. “You’re looking good. You’re all grown up now, aren’t you?”
“Hey.”
“When was the last time I saw you?”
Axe shrugged.
“It was right before you and your mother moved from Evergreen Lane. How old were you? About fifteen?”
“Sounds ‘bout right.”
“How is your mother doing?”
Axe didn’t want to answer any more questions, especially about his self-absorbed mom. All she ever cared about was finding a man. If she could keep one, Axe would be shocked. It was like his mom fed off male attention. After his dad had ditched the family when he was nine years old, Axe had been taking care of his mom and fending for himself. Strung out on prescription drugs most days, and lamenting over her sad life, she didn’t have the time or energy to include her son.
“Fine.” Axe yanked his arm from Mrs. Keary’s grip. “Gotta go.”
“Promise me you’re going to dance with me.
Just one dance.” She batted her cheap, false eyelashes.
“I don’t dance.”
“I can show you. It’d be for old times’ sake, you know?”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re not being very friendly. You’re hurting my feelings.”
Axe narrowed his dark eyes. “That’s too bad, but I don’t give a fuck.” He smiled thinly when her eyes widened in surprise. “See ya.” He turned around and went in search of his table.
Before he reached table eight, he heard the ringing of the dinner bell telling the guests to take their seats. Axe plopped down on his chair at the table for ten and stared at the tissue paper flowers and bells in the centerpiece. A basket of rolls, small packets of butter, and two silver gravy bowls containing salad dressing were on the table. Not giving a damn whether it was proper or not, Axe grabbed a roll, buttered it, and took a large bite out of it. As he chewed, his table filled up. People introduced themselves to him, and he cursed Derek for making him a part of this hokey shit.
The wait staff placed plates of mixed greens in front of the guests, and Axe drenched his salad in creamy Italian dressing. As he placed a forkful in his mouth, she slipped in the empty chair across from him. Seeing her in front of him in all her beauty and ripeness took Axe by surprise. His throat tightened, making him cough.
“Are you all right?” one of the guests at his table asked.
Nodding, he tried to stop choking. I must look like a fuckin’ idiot with watering eyes and red face.
After gulping down some water, his throat finally stopped seizing, and he looked at her from under hooded lids. Her gaze met his as he took in her beautiful hazel eyes. For a few seconds, he gaped, losing himself in her stare and feeling like a fucking teenager. She smiled at him—perfect white teeth with a tiny glimpse of pink tongue. How he wanted that tongue on his body, her Cupid’s bow lips fitting perfectly around his cock.
“Hi,” she said in a smoky voice.
Fuck! “Hey,” he replied, still unable to take his eyes off her.
“It was a nice ceremony, don’t you think?” She brought her wine glass to her lips and took a sip.
