REAPER'S KISS
Page 1
Hey darlin’
I’m happy you’re doing this again with me. Here we are back in the town of Bishop with this book – REAPER’S KISS. You know that there are some parts of this book based on my life. I’ll never tell which ones, but you can guess. Make sure you leave a review when you’re done reading and then hit me up on my Facebook page. In case you missed any of my other books, check out these titles – HARD KNOX. SLAM HER. RENEGADE FIRE.
What a ride we’re on here, darlin’. Hold on tight. You’ve been warned.
See you on the other side.
- Jax
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REAPER’S KISS
I saved her life once – now I own her.
Trust me, this isn’t what I wanted. Not that I mind a beautiful woman showing up at my door first thing in the morning. What I do mind is the baggage she’s carrying with her. My club tells me I have to press her for information. But I can’t get too close to her.
The problem? I get too close to her. I can’t help myself. It’s just my outlaw way. The second I realize I need to get away, I discover there’s a connection between me and her. A murderous connection that is rearing its ugly head into my present and into my future.
This wild fling is turning into something deeper… and Ava is about to learn the consequences of when you mess with an outlaw and his heart.
chapter one
(jace)
*LATER*
I sat on the edge of my bed and watched her unbutton her shirt. Her breasts were already pouring out of the damn shirt, even with a bra on. She really had no idea how beautiful and exotic she was to me. Her fingers shook with each button she opened. She stripped the shirt off her arms and let it fall to the floor. Then she opened her jeans and leaned forward, wiggling those curvy hips of hers as her jeans ease down her body. As she bent forward her tits just hung there, barely in her bra.
“Fuck, sweetie,” I groaned as I gripped the edge of the bed.
She then stood back up, her hands nervously touching her thighs. She looked at me with her amber eyes and swallowed hard. I could tell she had lived a hard life. Shit, everyone in this town had lived a hard life.
It took her a few seconds but she finally reached back to unsnap her bra. If she thought for a fucking second I was going to stop her she was out of her mind. I had given her time. I had given her a goddamn chance to run. But she stuck around.
And now her bra was falling forward, showing me her beautiful tits. They were full, firm, her nipples perfectly pink, already erect, telling me she liked this.
My cock had already started to slither down my leg. It filled easily, throbbing, showing through my jeans. Not that I gave a fuck. I was proud of what I had swinging between my legs. And she should have been proud for what she was doing to me.
“Come here, sweetie,” I said.
She stepped toward the bed. I put my hands to her sides, feeling the softness of her skin. My hands then eased around to her back and pulled her to me, smelling the sweetness of her skin a second before my lips played with her left nipple. Her hands grabbed at my shoulders as she shivered. Her skin broke out in goosebumps and I felt her hands slid to the inside of my leather cut. She started to take it off… and she climbed up on the bed, straddling me.
She pressed her pussy against my jeans, grinding against my cock.
My mouth eased over her breast as I sucked on her, loving the way she started to groan.
She put her head back, her dark hair falling along her back.
I pulled off her breast and kissed up her neck.
Then I stood up.
I walked her to the wall and held her against it.
“Oh, fuck,” she whispered.
“Oh, fuck is right, sweetie. Remember, you showed up looking for me. I wasn’t looking for you.”
She bit her lip and had no idea what was in store for her.
Then again… neither did I…
I saved her life once - but once wasn’t going to be enough.
chapter two
(ava)
*A WEEK AGO*
My father told me to unbutton the bottom half of the shirt and tie it in a bow. I needed to show more skin to make everyone happy. I was literally a few moves away from being a full on stripper. Or at least that’s how I felt. He should have sold the small store a long time ago. But he insisted on keeping it in my mother’s honor. I was barely fifteen when someone broke into the store and shot my mother to death. She had been there working late, cleaning up the floors after a leak in the roof made a mess. Dad told her to let it go but she insisted on keeping the place clean.
If she hadn’t been there…
If the roof hadn’t leaked…
If it hadn’t rained so much…
I spent ten more years finding any and all sources of blame I could manage.
A year after that I was able to get legally drunk and that was a good way to hide it all away. By then, Dad was slipping into a hole that was dark and scary. The store barely broke even. He lived in a room above the store. I wasn’t even sure if it was qualified as an apartment. For me, I survived with the same work ethic my mother had.
But every now and again my father would use the storage room in the back of the store to entertain some friends. That’s the way he always put it to me. Probably to save me in case something went wrong and he ended up in jail. He would grab my face and smile.
I’m just entertaining some friends, Ava. That’s all.
And everyone who showed up was called Uncle.
Uncle Tommy. Uncle Bill. Uncle Andy.
Most of them wore nice clothes, drank straight from a bottle, and they played a lot of card games and when nobody was looking, they all passed around notes and other things. Yeah, okay, drugs.
It was scary.
My job was to just walk around and make sure everyone was happy.
Dad opened the door and his face was sweaty and red. He lived under too much stress, but who was I to tell him that?
“You look beautiful, Ava. Watch the front and check in on the back. Right?”
“Of course,” I whispered.
I had to manage the store on my day off of work and then slip into the back and walk around to make sure everyone was enjoying themselves. Remember, Dad was just entertaining friends.
I stood at the register for twenty minutes and then walked toward the front door. The parking lot was empty. It was dark outside. I slowly started to pull the chains on the neon lights, killing any and all attention to the store. I reached for the door and had my hand on the lock when the door busted open.
It almost hit me as a man came rushing through.
He was dressed nice, his hair slicked back, gold chains and rings everywhere.
“Well, hello to you,” he said. “Locking me out, beautiful?”
“No. I’m sorry. Can I help you?”
“Of course you can. Do you remember me?”
“No.”
“I’m Uncle Frank,” he said with a grin.
Real Uncle? Or the ‘entertaining friends’ Uncle?
His hand touched my waist and he stepped at me. I backed away and he put his hand to my lower back, wanting me closer to him.
“Are you here for…”
“I’ve got plenty here to give,” he said. “We can go for a ride right now, Ava.”
“That’s okay.”
“I can take you places you’ve only dreamed of.”
I forced a weak smile.
Every time I took a step back, Uncle Frank stepped at me. I backed up into a display of chips, knocki
ng two bags to the floor.
“Ut-oh,” he said. “Clean up on aisle four.”
He grabbed my wrist and pulled it toward him. Down there.
I wiggled away and jumped back. “What are you doing?”
“It’s just us, Ava. Your father owes me plenty. We can settle up right now. I’ll put my hand over your mouth even. Nobody will hear us.”
I kept moving back and Uncle Frank kept coming at me. I went all the way down the aisle, this out of shape, too much cologne guy staring at me with bad intentions. When I bumped into one of the coolers, I decided to make my move. I jumped to the right and hurried to open the door. I put my hands to the glass and pushed hard, slamming it off Uncle Frank’s body. He actually stumbled back. So I hurried to grab a half gallon of iced tea and that was going to be my weapon.
“You little cunt,” Uncle Frank said with a laugh. “That’s how you like it? Like an animal stalking its prey?”
He showed me his teeth and then lifted his hands, curling his fingers.
He was trying to mimic an animal and it was actually kind of scary.
He took one step at me and I swung the half gallon at him. I missed, turned, and Uncle Frank grabbed me, pressing his front to my back.
“There, there,” he whispered. “I’ll take such good care of you.”
“Ava!” a voice boomed through the store.
“Dad!” I cried out. “I need…”
Uncle Frank covered my mouth. He then threw me forward and tripped me. I hit the ground hard. He then showed me he was hiding a gun.
He pointed at me. “Say one fucking word and I’ll fucking kill you.”
Dad came running down the aisle toward me. “What the hell happened?”
“Hey, Jake,” Uncle Frank said. “I came in and she was on the ground. You okay, Ava?”
“I tripped,” I said. “I’m fine.”
Dad helped me up. He looked at me. “Are you…”
“I feel a little sick.”
“Whoa, hey,” Uncle Frank said. “Keep that shit away from me. No offense. You should send her home.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Dad said to me.
I touched my stomach. I was actually sick. From what almost happened with Uncle Jake.
“Go home, Ava,” Dad said. “Get some rest. You call me in the morning. I’ll make some of your mother’s famous soup. That could cure anything.” Dad kissed his fingers and shook them in the air.
“He’s right,” Uncle Frank said. He touched my shoulder. It send chills through my body. “You’re too beautiful to be sick, Ava.”
I wanted to throw up.
I would throw up, outside, next to my car.
Before that I watched Uncle Frank put his arm around Dad and walk him toward the back of the store. Uncle Frank looked back at me one last time, giving me a wink.
Later, at home, in bed, crying, I wished someone would save me. My mother would have slapped me in the face if she heard me. She had always been a fighter, a survivor. But she was the one who ended up killed.
Was it so wrong to want to lean on someone for once?
Wasn’t there any good guys out there?
The truth was this…
Someone was going to save me - but he wasn’t a good guy at all.
chapter three
(jace)
*NOW*
Amy slipped her pants up her left leg and stood up. She didn’t have any panties on when I tore those jeans off her tight little ass the night before. I knew Amy from years back. She had been a cheerleader, but not the best one. Desperate for any kind of attention sent her out of Bishop where she got pregnant in her first semester of college. The kid’s father was some dickhead football star that actually ended up going pro. Lucky for Amy because she collected a hefty child support check each month. But that she blew on a fancy car, luxury apartment, and a lifestyle that was too far out of reach for her.
Yet she loved the outlaws. I was pretty sure everyone in the MC had been inside her at least once. Don’t worry though, I’m smart enough to know when to wrap my shit up before I go diving into someone.
Amy and I had been messing around for the entire weekend. Her kid was flying back in from Florida after spending some time with his old man. All of that non important shit I had to hear about the night before as she slurped down whiskey. It all paid off once she was drunk enough to forget about her problems and put her hand on my dick.
I threw the sheets off me and got out of bed. I was in jeans and nothing else.
Amy reached for me, her fingertips running down my chest. “I’m going to miss you, Jace.”
“Cut that,” I said and swatted her away. “Go home to your kid.”
“Don’t be a fucking asshole to me.”
“I’m not. You got what you wanted. I got what I wanted. Now leave.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
I walked to the door and opened it. “Hurry. Before the rest of the guys see you. They’ll applaud you all the way to your fucking cab.”
“My cab?”
“I called one twenty minutes ago.”
Amy’s jaw dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Listen to me,” I said. “You’ve worn out your welcome here. Go be a mom now.”
“You think I asked for this?”
I put my hands up. “I’m not your therapist here. Go home to your kid.”
Amy swung her hand but stopped short. She then touched my face. “Can I call you next weekend?”
“Probably not.”
“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jace. But your cock is amazing.”
“So I’ve been told,” I said.
Amy leaned in for a kiss and I got the hell out of the way. There was no kissing goodbye with me. Once we were done fucking, you were out. I gave Amy a pass and let her sleep in my bed only because she passed out hard.
When she left the room without slapping me I considered that a victory for the day. Normally when I booted women out, they always gave me a nice slap across the face. Which I always deserved.
I watched her tight little ass wiggle in her jeans until she was out of sight.
“Not bad,” a voice said next to me.
I turned and saw the President of the Bitter Aces standing there.
“Sid,” I said. “You’ve been in that, right?”
“Who the fuck knows?” he said with a grin. “I don’t keep track. As long as I shoot my load, I’m good.”
“Well said, Prez,” I said.
He nodded to me and said, “Put on a shirt. We need to talk.”
I went back in my room and grab an old t-shirt and my leather cut. I ran my hand through my messy black hair and walked down to main hallway to the clubhouse. To the right was a door and that’s where we all met to talk business.
Sid sat at the head of the table with the gavel and the rest of us sat, listened, talked, argued, drank whiskey, and voted.
I sat down in between Logan and Niko.
“Ready for this?” Sid asked. He reached for a bag and dumped out stacks of cash. Clean cash. Beautiful cash. Real cash.
Gunner and Gage let out a whistle.
“This is what we’ve been working on,” Sid said. “Serious money by keeping things safe around here.”
“Where’d that come from?” Diesel asked.
“A little side project,” I said with a grin.
“You were in on this?” Luka asked.
“It was me, Bret, and Jace,” Gage said. “Just a little thing on the side.”
“Busting up some bullshit gambling rings,” Sid said. “That brings a lot of bad heat into town. Too many eyes on it. The PD couldn’t keep tabs because of the political bullshit in and out of the department.”
“So they kicked it down to us,” Gage said.
“Chief is on board,” I said. “Not necessarily a friend of the club but he’s willing to let us do what we need to do.”
“That’s big,” Diesel said.
“That’s what she sai
d about my dick,” Logan said and slapped the table.
“Who? Your sister?” Brady asked.
“Fuck you, man,” Logan said.
“Fuck everyone,” Sid said. He pointed to the cash. “This brings risk to the club. A lot of eyes on us. So we play it straight. This gets tucked away for a long time. But we need to keep an open eye around Bishop. Make sure the town is clear. When that’s done, we need to survey outside the area. Just keep this shit out of this town. Because it’s not just about gambling and cash. There’s movement of drugs and pussy.”
“Can we move some of the pussy in here?” Niko asked.
“Trust me, brother,” I said, “you don’t want that kind of pussy here.”
“So what’s our move on this?” Gunner asked. “Why are we getting involved if this is so deep?”
Sid picked up a perfectly stacked wad of cash and waved it like a fan. “Money. This is clean. This cannot come back to hurt us ever. There’s no record. There’s nothing that matters with this cash.”
“Except the people we took it from,” Gunner said.
“They know the risk of bad investments,” Gage said.
“So what now?” I asked.
“We vote to tuck this money away for a rainy day. Then we get out there and do what we always do.”
The table took a vote. All yay’s to put the money away. We had a great accountant who had done time in prison for cooking some books, but now he was straight. He spoke to high school and college kids about prison. He handled our money in a legit way - except the fees he skimmed off the top that he never reported to Uncle Sam. But that was his problem, not ours.
Sid called it a meeting and everyone split up to do their own thing.
As I shuffled out the door toward the bar to grab a bite I noticed Sid was right on my ass. That was never a good sign. One on ones with the Prez meant something was going down.
Fuck, I just wanted something to eat.
I sat down and ordered a beer and a burger. That was how I did breakfast after a long night of fucking. Plus, it was already the afternoon.