by Carmen Faye
"Where's your motorcycle?" Shayla asked.
"In storage," he told her and took another drink.
He didn't seem to be all that worried, but she asked, "What about the club?"
"Well, that's kind of why I'm late. I stopped at the beach for a while and did something thinking, and didn't come up with anything," he told her.
"Thinking?" she asked.
Neil shrugged and then looked at his beer bottle like it was suddenly interesting, then he said, "It's a little confusing. Apparently the general thought is that I should be president now. There were over fifty members at the club, and we closed it down from the public while we met. There was some talk and some finger pointing, but nothing solid or based on anything except beer talk, so that shit stopped. Then by show of hands, West asked if I should be president, and just about everyone raised their hand."
"Isn't that a good thing?" she asked.
"Not really. I want to tour, and do my music, not run the club. Hell, I wouldn't even know where to begin with running the club. I mean, I know when something is wrong, but I'm not sure what would be right."
Shayla thought about this unexpected turn of events. It had been so long since anything right happened she didn't recognize it right away. "Call West," she told him. "Call West and tell him that you want him to be president, you vice president and the rest of the men that were here in the living-room for you to be officers. A change of guard."
Neil looked up at her, "Why vice president? Why not just out?"
"Vice president is a salary position right? And Anton never chose a VP or any other officer. The club needs to have stability before it can move forward again. This gives you the freedom to tour, and also stable low-risk income."
Sydney looked at her, "I thought you said your brain was fogged up."
"It was. The pain is back," she answered.
"Wish I thought that clear sober," Sydney sighed.
Neil met her eyes, "That sounds good," he offered. "I'll call after diner. Let it simmer for a while in my head."
"How about pizza?" Sydney asked.
"As long as you don't try to pay the boy nude, that would be great," Neil said with a grin, looking her over.
"What's wrong with me nude?" Sydney asked, while looking down and back at her butt.
After diner, as Shayla expected, Neil called West and laid out her idea to him. He was in his chair in the living-room and they were laid out on the sofa and love-seat. She took another pain pill because her shoulder was hurting too much by the time diner was done.
Neil hung up and said, "West is the new president. Apparently as president, I don't require a vote to put your suggestion into play. So, it's done. I'm the new VP."
Five years later
"Aren't you getting dressed for the party tonight?" Sydney asked her.
"I don't think so, I'm pregnant," Shayla told her, as she laid on the love-seat.
"What? You're barely showing," Sydney said, and rubbed her belly.
"Barely and showing should never be used in the same sentence. I hear-by declare this to be house law. Showing is showing and showing is fat. There is no such thing as barely fat," Shayla declared.
"Whatever. You look fine. You still make me horny and Neil still can't get enough of your ass. So, buck it up buckwheat." Sydney told her.
"Is Neil coming home first?" she asked, changing the subject.
"No. He's going from the studio to the party. The whole group is. And you know you’re going to go. It's his first release with a major label, and they’re going to sign the contract for that movie soundtrack. So, get off your ass and get dressed."
"I have no fat clothes," she complained.
"Wear a T-shirt and slippers then. Maybe a thong. You're the wife of a rock-star. You can wear anything and the newspapers will still love you."
"Newspapers? What newspapers?" Shayla asked, sudden concern welling her voice. "Neil didn't say anything about newspapers. Did he?"
"Come on! It's a main event for a local band making it good! You couldn't figure out that the press would be interested?" Sydney told her.
"No," she said, biting her lip. "Fuck."
They were roughly twenty minutes late for the start of the party because she had to change clothes five times. Finally Sydney grabbed her arm as she was checking out the last dress — a little black thing with silver threads in the fabric — and pulled her out the door. She barely had time to grab her purse off the makeup table before she was yanked out into the hall.
Sydney was wearing a short little red dress, which looked amazing on her, and her heels made her ass look fantastic.
"How come you aren't the one who’s pregnant?" Shayla grumbled as they came off the elevator and walked down the hall.
"Because he likes doing me in the ass more than you," Sydney replied with a bit of snideness.
"You're a real bitch sometimes, you know that?"
"Yep, but you love me, so you're fucked," Sydney smiled.
Shayla frowned but her phone chirped. She took it out of her purse and after reading the text, she sent a good-night back to Sandy.
Sydney read the message over her shoulder. "How’s the little munchkin?" she asked.
"Still wants to be a lawyer. I thought it was just hero worship with Margaret, but apparently she has the law bug. She talks about it more than boys. Even cute boys," Shayla told her.
"So that will be two lawyers in the family. Jill starts law school this year. She's already accepted," Sydney pointed out.
"It was doctors who saved my life. Why didn't one of them want to be a doctor?" Shayla asked.
"Not everything is about you, ya’know," Sydney pointed out.
"It should be," Shayla murmured.
"Thank God it's not. Can you imagine all of those reports being totally interested in your showing belly right now?" Sydney asked.
"What reports?" she had time to say before she saw a whole group of them... or was it gaggle? Who cared. They were fucking reporters with cameras.
They didn't even ask. They just started taking pictures and asking questions. It was a fucking nightmare.
Then Neil was there, pulling them away, and telling the reports they would have a statement in about thirty minutes.
"Good of you two to show up," he said with a smile, once they were clear.
"We had wardrobe problems," Sydney offered.
"Too many?" he asked.
"Blasphemy," Sydney told him.
"I have no fat clothes," Shayla complained softly, looking back at the reporters and wondering if breaking their cameras would be enough, or would she have to get the film as well.
"That's because you aren't fat," Neil said.
"I can feel my ass growing as we speak," she told him.
He grabbed her ass with a loving fondle. "Still a good ass," he decided.
"Did all the arrangements show up?" Sydney asked.
Neil shrugged and said, "You two were handling that. How would I know what was missing?"
"I'll go check things out," Sydney told them and headed through the crowd toward the caterer.
Judge, West and a large number of other Knights were in attendance, with nightclub owners, managers and bartenders. A whole flock of other people were milling around, which she didn't have a clue about. The party was scheduled for two hundred, so this didn't surprise her.
Hundreds of flashes from camera phones went off as the band signed their first movie soundtrack contract. Of course, now Neil's days were going to be even more busy. With her and Sydney running a company and Neil on the road, playing in Nightclubs, in the studio and down at the club doing his VP thing for the Knights, they hardly got to see each other anymore. And now a baby was on the way.
On the way home with Sydney, she thought about making time. Perhaps she should be a stay at home mom. Sydney ran the company like a pro anyway. She rarely needed to consult her about things any more. They worked so well together, they just knew what to do. It was perfect. But maybe once
the baby was around, perfect would have to become a little more shiny.
Shayla rubbed her belly and looked out that the Miami night. Sydney and her had a lot of history in those lights and darkness.
It was time to consider the future.
THE END
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PLAYER
MONEY TALKS, AND WHEN RIP PETERSON TALKS IT, I’M HYPNOTIZED.
ALEX
I had a good thing going… until he showed up, six feet of leather and steel, a tempting smile, and a downright dangerous offer that left me breathless and ready.
But once ours fingers were in the honeypot, we got a taste of the adrenaline and wanted more. He wanted more.
Me.
RIP
My only rule in life?
Don’t get caught.
Call it what you like, I’m the one who walks away on top every single time, and I f*cking love it that way.
But Alex is something else: smart and sexy--a spitfire and one hell of a natural for cheating a card table.
I knew I could take her and make her into something great. And when we walk out with our first winnings, I know we’ve got a good thing going.
There’s just one flaw in this plan… my lies are about to catch up with me.
And just maybe my stupid f*cking heart, too.
DARE
I’ve spent my whole life fighting: from the mountains of Afghanistan to the bloodied octagon
DARE
Backing down is never an option. I bury my opponents, no matter who they are.
I’ve had my share of women, broke more hearts than I can count. But that’s life when every day could be my last.
Then Holly came into my life, and everything changed.
I can’t get her out of my head.
I want her in my bed.
I need to hear her scream my name.
I’ve spent my entire life winning fights.
I’m not about to lose this one.
HOLLY
I’m fragile. I’ve been hurt. But I’m not made of glass.
I want to be loved, I want to be touched, I want to be made love to. Hard.
I never thought it’d be from him.
He made me cry. He made me scream.
He made me forget everything that I’d been.
But now he wants more…
He wants to make me HIS.
SEAL
HE TAKES WHAT HE WANTS. NO MATTER WHAT.
Six-foot-five, tatted, tough, and unstoppable. Matt Perrier was the perfect hunter who spent the last six years in the mountains of Afghanistan.
Even though I know those strong hands of his are stained with blood.
When they rest on my curves—take me from one leg-quivering climax to another, I forget who he is. I forget what he’s done.
I forget that I can run from all my problems, but I can’t run from him.
Because those hands of his will find me, catch me…
… hold me tight and never let go.
OWNED BY THE BAD BOY
I DON’T PLAN ON STOPPING UNTIL SHE’S CARRYING MY KID.
SCOTT
I swore to protect her. Keep her safe from the demons of her past. I didn’t expect to pull her into my bed.
One night was all it took. To break her walls, to make her feel alive again.
But once wasn’t enough, and all I wanted was more.
The President made her off limits. Said he’d put a bullet in anyone who laid a hand on her.
Too bad for him, I did more than that.
Until she’s carrying my kid.
Until she’s wearing my ring.
Until I make her mine.
JESSICA
I swore off outlaws—after the last one left me nearly dead—I swore never again.
Until I came face-to-face with Scott: the sexy bastard who’d knock down all my walls and set my world on fire.
I wanted to fight him, to push him away while hiding how hard it was to keep my hands off him.
It wasn’t a battle I could win.
And when he stares me in the eye, promising that he’ll make me his and that he’s not taking no for an answer.
I can’t help think that there’s no way he could be wrong.
BRUTE
Dawson
I hurt people for a living.
There’s no room in my life for love.
But that was before I met Mari.
I’ve never met anyone like her before.
Pure.
Innocent.
Begging to be corrupted.
She won't be the first girl I’ve pulled into my bed.
But I’ll be damned if she isn’t the first one that I want to make MINE.
Mari
He doesn’t just stare at me, he f***s me with his eyes.
And when he asked me for a favor—a favor that goes against all of my better judgments, I should have backed away.
I should have kept my distance.
I should have said no.
Because once I stepped into his world…
There was no way out.
