Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself Book 1)

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Mine,” he murmured, mouth against her, knowing she felt every gentle breath. Hands under her ass, he lifted her to his mouth, watching as her belly did that hollowing out thing, imagining it rounded instead. “Forever.” Licking and lapping at her, he fucked her with his tongue, slowly. What she gave him was deliciously sweet. “Always.” Her body arched, hips tipping, hands running through his hair and he looked up at her to find her staring back intently. “I love you, Lucia.” She nodded. “Keeping you forever, baby.” Sucking her clit into his mouth, he traced across it with the tip of his tongue. “Never let you go.”

  “Never let me go,” she repeated, hers breathy-soft where his had been raspy-rough.

  “Never let you go.” Fingers working her, hard and fast, curling and twirling inside her while he ate her like a starving man.

  “Never let me go.” Lips parting on a gasp, she changed the tune when she said, “Never letting you go, Benny.”

  “Don’t let me go.” His was a plea, but he prayed she didn’t know, lost as she was in the passion he evoked in her. “Never let me go.” Pressing deep, he covered as much of her with his mouth as he could, biting and sucking, desperate for what she gave him.

  “Never.” Moaning softly, lost in the emotions and feelings, still she knew what he needed. “Love you, Papi.” Another moan and she tipped her hips, moving and thrusting up, seeking what he gave her. “Love you.” Head back, he lost her eyes but got to watch her face as she came, seeing all the beauty she held inside. Thirty minutes later, she got to watch his as he exposed everything he thought he had hidden, making her love him even more.

  Twenty-Nine

  “Telling you, I’m not ready.” Gaze fixed to the toes of his boots, he couldn’t see Mercedes’ reaction. Didn’t want to, not like this, didn’t want her to know how freaked out he was at the idea. “You can’t go.” The silence grew until he couldn’t stand it anymore, looking up to see her staring at him.

  “Bibi.” Her gaze on him was considering, and he took that as hopeful, thinking maybe she saw the error of her ways, which meant she wouldn’t do what she was threatening. “What do you need?”

  The question surprised him because they’d moved past that kind of episode a long time ago. He hadn’t seriously been tempted in what seemed like forever, but he knew by the exact count of days that he was only months into this sobriety session. Staring at his boots again, knowing he sounded like a sullen child, he asked, “What?”

  It took several minutes, but she finally responded. “What do you need, Bibi? What will make it better?” You not doing this, he thought as he looked up, but didn’t say. When she slowly shook her head, he knew she’d read it on his face anyway. “Bibi.” Her voice was soft. “You knew this day would come.”

  “I didn’t expect it today.” Leaning back in the rolling chair behind the big mix board, he looked around the studio his brother had built. For me.

  “I’m not talking today.” Her voice was echoing through the room, coming into the control room over the speakers. She was in one of the isolation booths with the door closed, but he could see her through the glass. He’d gotten a text from her to meet here, walked in to find she’d separated herself from him by two glass walls in order to have this conversation. Another way Mercedes made her point. “But you’re ready.”

  “What if I’m not?” Laying out his worst fear, that he would go slipping sideways again. “What if I fuck up?” Lose everything.

  “Does it matter how many times you fall?” He stared at her. She’d taught him that. Taught him so much. Taught him to think instead of react. Taught him to believe in himself instead of feeding the pit of fear gaping open inside him. “You are so much stronger than you know.”

  “Don’t go.” His shadow for so long, threatening to separate from him and go dancing up the wall. Time to grow up. “I—”

  “Bibi.” She said nothing else, didn’t move, merely held his gaze.

  “I need you.”

  At this, she did smile, faint movement at the corners of her mouth, the crinkling at the corners of her eyes indicating deep amusement. “I need you, too.” The backs of his eyes were burning, and his throat closed tight at those words, knowing what she truly meant. “I’ll always pick up.”

  “Throwing me a bone?” Offering to stay connected, letting him have this, knowing he might need it. “You think I can do this?”

  His question seemed to release her, and she stood to walk through the studio to where he sat. “I know you can.” Small, waiflike, frail, quirky, and the strongest woman he had ever known. “My Bibi? He can do anything he sets his mind to.”

  “Mercedes Griffwaldo, I kinda like you.” He intentionally mangled her name, as he had every time since the first day they met.

  “My wife would appreciate it if you stopped doing that, Bibi.” She reached out, brushing his hair from his face and bent to press her lips to his forehead. Benediction. Love. “It’s pronounced grih-fith. G r u f f u d d. Grih-fith.”

  “Am I ever going to get to meet her?” In all the months Mercedes lived in his pocket, he’d yet to lay eyes on her partner, Slate organized her vacation when he could be around, but Mercedes never took more than a couple of days at a time. “This mysterious woman you love?”

  “She will be my plus-one at your wedding.”

  Thirty

  “Good evening, Indiana!” He shouted the words into the microphone, tipping his wrist sideways so they could see his full-on grin when they screamed the greeting back at him. “How y’all doin’ tonight?” Another tip of the mic as he swept the crowd with his gaze, his smile broad and pleased. Nothing plastic, nothing fake about this, he was excited to be here, in Marie’s, and ready to get the night started.

  Glancing back at Chase, he saw his friend was loose and relaxed, wrist propped on the body of his guitar, fingers idly plucking out the fingering for their first song as if he could do this for hours. Glancing the other way, he grinned. Mitty was on the ego box at the side stage, getting a start on the set by lifting his hands overhead to clap, getting the crowd going on his side of the venue.

  A look behind him caught Vic staring Bonnie’s way, and he felt a sliver of worry dance in his belly. As far as he knew, Vic hadn’t told anyone else about Bonnie, and she’d done such a good job hiding any feelings she might still be holding onto for their drummer, he was sure no one else knew they had a history. Vic’s look said he wasn’t past it, and Benny tried to tamp out the feeling he had. Nothing I can do to change their lives. “Wisdom,” Mercedes whispered in his ear, and he jerked his gaze to the booth where she sat with the front-of-house guy behind the boards. Her last show. He grinned. And I have quite the finale planned. “Don’t do it.” She lifted the microphone to warn him, her voice sounding alarmed for the first time ever. “Bibi.”

  Reaching up, he yanked off his in-ear headset, letting them dangle around his neck by the cord. “Marie’s. Y’all feelin’ any pain?” Another roar as he moved to the other side of the stage, ignoring the glare he felt coming his way. He reached out a hand, indicating the rowdy merrymakers on that side, the crowd roiling at his feet. “I didn’t think so. Feelin’ good? Are you ready for some rock and roll?” One more roaring response, and he grinned, twisting to give Vic a pause signal, letting him know not to launch into their first number yet. He got a puzzled nod in return and gave a thumbs-up. “Y’all ready for some Occupy Yourself?” Usually at this point in a bigger gig, he’d be pitching the main act, but tonight, as ever at Marie’s, they were the entire show. Headline run. He smirked.

  “Wanna introduce you to someone.” He gestured to the knot of people standing at the side stage, giving a “come here” motion towards the tall blonde woman standing next to Lucia. “Raquel Gruffudd, she’s the wife of a very good friend of mine, came all the way from California to see tonight’s show. Rocky, come on up.” With a tentative smile and a glance at the booth, she made her way to the stairs. “See, my friend is moving away. After a year of livin’ with me,
she’s moving back home.” A sympathetic sound from the audience made him grin. “Good for her, sucks for me, yeah?”

  Raquel appeared beside him, put her hand on his upper arm and leaned close, holding up her phone so he could see the text as she whisper-yelled, “Put your ears in, Bibi.” Shaking his head, he turned and stuck his tongue out in Mercedes’ direction, then looked at the woman next to him.

  Two weeks ago, after prying for hours, he finally got Raquel’s number out of Slate, wanting her here for this. He also found out she was a closet fan, as well as a talented singer, and from that information crafted an idea. “Rocky, you need a mic.” He held his hand out behind him, feeling the sting as Mitty slapped a wired mic into his palm. “Raquel’s a singer, folks. Can you give her a warm welcome?” Applause and whistles filled the air, the energy from the people surrounding the stage starting to grow. Beating at him, urging him to get a move on while it was still building, before the swell fell, before the crowd would be past salvaging. Turning to Vic, he nodded and grinned as Raquel’s fingers gripped his arm tightly. Handing her the mic, he leaned in, yelling into her ear, “The Promise of Love.”

  Vic counted them into the song, Bonnie’s heartbeat thrum steady and strong underneath the melody Mitty laid down. Chase came in on the second round of the intro, and then Benny nodded at Raquel, grinning as they lifted their mics in sync. Her voice was good; he’d made sure of it via online videos before he put her on the spot like this. He’d never do something like that to Mercedes, put her wife at risk of embarrassment, but Raquel could belt it, had an amazing talent. Good enough that by the second verse, he could let her soar on her own, singing about love feeling out of reach.

  Turning to the side stage again, he lifted his hand in invitation, eyes only for Lucia. Curving his fingers, he jerked his head, asking her to trust him. Please, please God, baby. She’d be hated by a thousand women after tonight, and when the video of what he was about to do hit social media, he’d be the envy of a million men.

  Up the metal stairs, she carefully made her way across the jumble of wires and cables, sliding in to press close to his side when he curved his arm around her. His thumb flicked the mic off, and he reached to tuck it into his back pocket. “Luce.” She smiled up at him. Hand to the front pocket of his jeans, he reached in and pulled out the ring that’d been burning a hole in his pocket for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment. Realizing that there would never be a better time than now.

  He glanced around, seeing Mercedes splitting her focus between him and Raquel. Slate and Bear leaned against the barrier at the front of the stage, their patched leather vests granting a buffer of space around them few except their brothers breached. Vic, Chase, Mitty, all grinning like loons. Ruby perched on a stool by the bar, phone up in front of her face, recording everything. Mason standing near her, arms crossed over his chest, face impassive but Benny knew he was pleased with what he saw. Sober Benny, sober Chase, happy Slate.

  He leaned in to kiss Lucia, watched her eyes heat then slip closed as she kissed him back. Lifting her hand, he broke the kiss, then pressed his lips to the ring on her finger. Grinned as her eyes widened, staring, then she looked up at him.

  Raquel’s voice softened, she moved to one side and as the crowd caught sight of Benny and Lucia they roared in approval.

  My promise come true.

  Love me, baby, like I love you.

  Be my baby, be mine.

  My baby.

  Mine.

  ~ Fini ~

  Thank You

  THANK YOU FOR READING BORN INTO TROUBLE!

  Benny’s story started long ago in book #2 of the Rebel Wayfarers MC series, and he’s been hanging around in the background since then. Waiting, not so patiently, for his shot. I hope you enjoyed his journey of recovery and self-discovery. If you are a recovering addict, you have my admiration and hope that things go well for you. If you are an addict, there is information below that I hope will help bring you peace. Everything is possible. I promise.

  Benny's story deals with hard topics. Sexual abuse of a minor, that minor being a male, is still abuse, and can have long ranging repercussions. If you are an adult survivor of childhood sexual abuse, please know you are not alone. RAINN.org, the Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network can help you find the resources to begin the emotional healing process. Many perpetrators of sexual abuse do so from a position of trust and power. In Benny’s case, his abuser was an older teen; a girl with easy access to first alcohol, and then drugs. As a near-peer with great influence, she was able to steer Benny down that path with her until he was so mired in his addictions, he couldn't see any way out.

  When you read Born Into Trouble, I pray you don't see a reflection of yourself or anyone you know, but if you do, please know that there is help, and hope. Among many available resources, both AA.org and NA.org stand out as beacons for people who are in need. If those organizations aren't a workable solution for your situation, then tell someone you trust and allow them to help you find what will work. Hold on. You can do anything, as long as you hold on.

  For those who have never seen the face of addiction, the FBI released a movie that illustrates clearly how these dangerous behaviors are not restricted by economic boundaries, nor do they recognize sex or age as defining factors. I have a link on my website to the video, and you can find it at mldemora.com. Remember, addiction can reach into any family, through multiple vectors, and as with so many things, our first line of defense is knowledge. Watch, and learn, and pass it on. Above all else, hold on.

  OCCUPY YOURSELF BOOK SERIES

  Please note this book is part of the Occupy Yourself books, a spin-off from the Rebel Wayfarers MC series, featuring characters from additional books in both series. If the books are read out of order, you’ll twig to spoilers for the other books, so going back to read the skipped titles won’t have the same angsty reveals.

  I strongly recommend you read them in order:

  Born Into Trouble – Book #1

  Grace In Motion – Book #2 (upcoming release)

  What They Say – Book #3 (upcoming release)

  BENNY’S PLAYLIST

  He’s a musician, what do you want? I put together playlists of music both mentioned in the book, and used during writing and editing. Want a peek into the mind of me? Be sure of your decision, it’s not always normal here!

  Benny’s playlist: bit.ly/oy-bit-playlist

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Raised in the south, MariaLisa deMora learned about the magic of books at an early age. Every summer, she would spend hours in the Upshur County library, devouring stacks of books in every genre. She still reads voraciously, and always has a few books going in paperback, hardback, on devices! On music, she says, “I love music of nearly any kind—jazz, country, rock, alt rock, metal, classical, bluegrass, rap, gangstergrass, hip hop—you name the type, I probably listen to it.

  “I can often be seen dancing through the house in the early mornings. But what I really, REALLY love is live music. My favorite way to experience live music is seeing bands in small, dive bars [read: small, intimate venues]. If said bar [venue] has a good selection of premium tequila, then that’s a definite plus! Oh, and since I’m a hand gal, drummers are my thing—yeah, Paul and Alex—you know who you are!”