by Kim Jones
“Baby, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he said, working me slowly with painstakingly deep thrusts. I admired his face, his lips slightly parted, coating my face in his cool, minty breath, his ocean-blue eyes shining even at half-mast, and the small furrow between his brows. The feel of Luke stretching me, burying himself completely inside me, slightly circling his hips as his body connected to mine on each drive, was soothing and delicious. But when he lifted my leg, pushing it so that my knee was in my chest, and his drives became forceful, pummeling, plunges the feeling inside me intensified. His pace quickened, the head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside me, and escalating my senses to a new height. The position was almost painful, but the tiny ache I felt when he reached that peak inside me was overpowered by the astonishing sensation of all that was him. It wasn’t just the area deep inside me that sparked when he touched it, or the tingle I felt when he rubbed against that wonderful cluster of nerves as he rotated his hips. It was everything; the way his eyes closed as his emotions claimed his face when I squeezed him or moaned his name, the way his veins bulged in his neck to accommodate the blood that rushed through them to get to his rapidly beating heart. It was the tattoos on his arms and how they stretched across his massive biceps as they formed an intricate pattern all the way to his wrists. Or maybe it was the way the muscles in his stomach constricted, showing me those perfectly toned abs every time his body arched to deliver me that next plunge, which could be the one to send me into that orgasmic abeyance. Whatever was causing me that tingle in my gut, those butterflies in my stomach, and that fulfillment in my heart was because of one man. One man who I’d rather die than live without. One man who made days that were not even my birthday special for me. One man who I know I would go to the ends of the earth for, and one man I had given everything to. As I shattered into orgasm, my body pulsating and contracting around him, I held my eyes open so I could see that one man who made my life worth living. That one man who owned my heart and soul: Lucas Lorn Carmical.
I was showered, dressed, and holding my nose as I chugged the drink Brooklyn assured me could cure any hangover. It smelled like motor oil and fish guts, but at this point, I would try anything. Luke’s good afternoon love-making had cured me temporarily, but as the day progressed, the shit feeling I had had when I woke up returned. It was ten minutes after five and the guys were planning another night out. This time, we had been invited to ride along since we were going to Wawee’s, which was a local spot that the club often frequented. Of course, on the night we actually got to ride, the temperature decided to take a nosedive into the low forties. I was dressed as warm as my wardrobe allowed, wearing two pair of leggings, skinny jeans, thigh-high boots, three shirts, a leather jacket, and my cut. Chi Chi assisted me with my bandana, which was over my ears in an attempt to keep them warm. Southerners thought anything below sixty degrees was cold, so tonight was considered freezing to us, and our destination was about a thirty minute ride away. Doing the math, ninety miles an hour in forty-two degree weather equaled too fucking cold.
“Let’s go,” Ronnie announced, as he stood there in leather from his head to his toes. I didn’t ask, but I was sure he had to special order his chaps to accommodate his long legs. We walked to the bikes in silence. Every ol’ lady was feeling the side effects of last night. I had not seen Red or Maddie all day, until about fifteen minutes ago when they had come trudging into the main room, begging Brooklyn for her miracle concoction. The guys, on the other hand, were taking full advantage of the silence by constantly talking and laughing extremely loudly, punishing us and our throbbing heads as a form of payback for having to take care of us. Everyone was present except for Katelyn. It was not unusual for a PROSPECT’s wife to not be present on any ride, unless it was a family affair or a situation like last night. Luke said PROSPECTs had enough to worry about, and throwing a wife into the mix just complicated shit. I could see how that would be a problem with a troublemaker like myself, but Katelyn actually knew how to act when she went out in public. We pulled into traffic and took off as if we were running from the cops, which I didn’t doubt, and I held tight to Luke, using his body to shield the freezing wind that seemed to cut through my layers of leather and clothes all the way to my skin. Luke was kind enough to turn on the radio and soon favorites of mine and his were blasting through the speakers. Classic country hit after classic country hit played, ranging from Vern Gosdin’s “Chiseled in Stone” to Johnny Paycheck’s “Old Violin”. I let the music take me away, singing the lyrics to myself as we flew down the highway. Before I knew it, we were pulling into Wawee’s and by the way Luke’s body tensed, I knew something was wrong. I peeked my head around his wide shoulders and found the parking lot lined with over sixty bikes. A wave of uneasiness washed over me, as Luke turned off the bike’s engine, leaning up to allow me to clamber off, before gracefully dismounting himself. A group of men gathered in a crowd in the center of the parking lot, forming a circle around someone or something.
“That’s Mike,” Luke said, more to himself than anyone else. “Stay here.” He commanded me, walking behind Ronnie, as the entire club walked over to join the mass of men in leather.
Chapter 23
Dallas
“I’m not stayin’ here,” Brooklyn snapped, falling in behind our men. I stood there, watching in horror as she stomped off. Soon, everyone was following Brooklyn’s lead and although I had been told to stay, I joined them. As we approached, I recognized the black and white patches the men wore, with Metal and Madness stitched boldly across the back. In the middle stood a man who wore a different cut from the Devil’s Renegades, but the colors were the same. He stood tall and proud, without the slightest hint of fear on his face. To say he was handsome was an understatement.
“Before you open your mouth, I want everyone here to know that I am willing to die for this cut. Right here tonight.” My heart stopped at the mere thought of Ronnie being subjected to danger. I watched the anger radiate from him, as he continued his speech. “Your club has been coming into my town and ruining the relationship we have worked to build with this community our entire lives. I don’t give a fuck if there are five hundred of you motherfuckers, I will fight until I don’t have a breath left in my body, as will my brothers, to protect what we have. So, if you think bringing in reinforcements from all across the country is gonna help save your ass, then you’re wrong. We may go down tonight, but you can rest assure that at least half of you motherfuckers are going down with us.” At Ronnie’s words, my nervousness dissipated and was replaced with pride; the kind that straightens your backbone, and allows you to lose all sense of reason and logic to defend what makes you who you are. This club had made me who I was and now our odds were looking better. Judging by the looks of my sisters, our army had just doubled. “Now you have traveled a long way to say something, so speak your fucking mind.” My eyes stayed trained on the man leading the pack, who I assumed was the president of the chapter. I later found out that he was the national president, the top of the food chain, and every piece of shit in the parking lot behind him derived from the same basket as this one bad apple.
“First of all, I don’t know what you mean when you say we have ruined your relationship with your community. I don’t see how that’s possible. How can a few men destroy in less than a month something that you say you built in a lifetime?” The man waited for a reply, his stance casual and non-threatening.
“Your men came into my town and trashed bars, disrespected civilians, and intimidated everyone they came into contact with. Half the places we were once welcome now have signs that read if you wear a cut, you can’t come in. Now when we go somewhere, we are under the close watch of everyone who isn’t family. We don’t need that kind of heat on us. Like I said, we have fought very hard to earn the trust of the people in this town, and you should know how difficult that is to do.” The man’s face transformed from impassive to incredulous, as he eyed Ronnie, his mind battling whether he should believe him or not. He y
elled a name and a man from the back of the crowd reluctantly came up front.
“Do you have any idea what this man is talking about?” his eyes never left Ronnie’s as he spoke; waiting for an answer that would prove Ronnie wrong, yet by the look on his face, you could tell he already knew the truth.
“I mean, we didn’t trash no bars. Lopair got a little rowdy one night, but what was I supposed to do?”
“Fucking stop him. Apologize to the people you disrespected, and deal with your man when you got out of the public eye,” Luke snapped, his voice so deadly and threatening that it took the man a moment before he could reply.
“Look, I’m my brother’s keeper,” the man replied, his defense weak and unconvincing to Luke, who fired back at him on a snarl.
“I’m my brother’s keeper, too,” he said, pointing to a large, round patch on the front of his cut that said it just as plain as day in orange and black. “But you can bet your ass if one of them steps out of line that I handle it, so my club doesn’t take the fall for it. That’s what a brother’s keeper does, he protects him even if it’s from himself.” The man had no response, and I knew Luke wished he did. He was itching to put his hands on him, as was everyone else in the club. If these guys didn’t shut up soon, all hell was fixing to break loose.
“Tell me what we can do to make it right,” the leader said, hoping for a truce that I was afraid wouldn’t come.
“Leave. Get the fuck outta my town and go find another one to fuck up,” Ronnie said, his tone letting the man know the offer was not negotiable. But the man pressed on, hoping to settle the problem with a different alternative.
“This is a big town. Can it not accommodate the both of us?” His voice was not hopeful or pleading, just straightforward, and without emotion.
“I think you already know that answer. If you’re smart, you’ll leave. If you decide to stay, you better build a fucking army ‘cause I’m gonna make it my mission to take you down. We don’t tolerate disrespect from anyone. We don’t give a fuck how untouchable you think you are.” I knew Ronnie was referring to the fact that the majority of their club consisted of lawyers and cops. They figured they could do whatever they wanted and get away with it, but in this town, it was the outlaws who ran the streets. Not some pencil pushin’, divorce attorney or cop, who lived on a median income and whose highlight of the day was writing traffic violation tickets. No, this was biker world and nobody knew it better than our guys. Anyone could ride a Harley and slap a patch on, but it was how they conducted themselves while wearing it that made the difference between us and them. The man studied Ronnie for a long time. I don’t know if he was weighing his options, or waiting for one of our guys to make a move, but when he finally did speak, I was relieved. He closed the small distance between him and Ronnie, stopping a couple of feet from him when Shark and Bryce stepped out from behind Ronnie and halted the man with a look.
“I am Metal and Madness National President Jock, and on behalf of my club I want to apologize for the disrespect and inconvenience some of our members have caused you. I can assure you that it will be dealt with.” Ronnie didn’t stick his hand out to Jock and Jock didn’t offer his hand to Ronnie. He just turned and walked back to his club, signaling with his hand for everyone to get ready to leave. We stood and watched until the last bike was gone and the sounds of the pipes were far in the distance.
“I’m glad y’all showed up. Hell, I was thinkin’ I was gonna have to have all the fun myself,” the handsome man who was already there when we arrived said, his face breaking out into a smile revealing a perfect dimple in each cheek. I heard Red sigh next to me and found her eyes filled with lust, as they raked down the man’s tall, muscular body.
“That Dallas, is Malfuctional MC President, Magic Mike.” I followed her gaze and watched as Mike hugged each of the men, and then made his way over to the ladies. Red nearly took everyone out, as she reached to wrap her arms around Mike’s neck. “Have mercy I have missed you!” Red squealed, stopping to grab Mike’s shoulders, biceps, and forearms with a squeeze. “Fuck,” she said, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. There was no telling what was going on inside that head of hers.
“Red, you lookin’ fine, and you still crazy as hell,” Mike said, before giving the other ladies a hug. When he got to me, he stuck his hand out and I took it with a smile. “Malfuctional MC President Mike.”
“Dallas, Property of Devil’s Renegades President, LLC.” When I introduced myself, like a fucking pro, the expression on Mike’s face turned to surprise, as he looked at the vest I wore for confirmation.
“I’ll be damned. Well Dallas, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” He said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Likewise,” I said, with a nod. Our attention was drawn to the small SUV that barreled through the parking lot, coming to a screeching halt in front of us. A pretty brunette emerged from the car, her face filled with panic and worry as she appraised Mike for a moment before clutching her chest in relief.
“Oh thank God,” she said, running and jumping into his arms. I took in her outfit, consisting of a hoodie and pajama pants that were stuffed inside a pair of snow boots. She grabbed Mike’s face and kissed him before gathering Brooklyn and Red in a hug, hurriedly talking to each of them. “I was sitting at home when I got a call from the bartender to tell me that Mike was surrounded by Metal and Madness in the parking lot. I just threw some shoes on and jumped in the car.” She hugged the other girls, everyone telling her she looked beautiful even in her scruffy attire. She walked to me and stuck her hand out, her eyes wild and crazy as she came down off the rush of adrenaline. “Angela, Property of Malfuctional MC President, Magic Mike.”
“Dallas, Property of Devil’s Renegades President, LLC,” I said, smiling to myself. I was now two for two. Her eyes drifted to the patch on the front of my cut in disbelief, just as her ol’ man’s had.
“Holy shit,” she said, staring at me. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head, pulling her out of her state of shock. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Dallas. I’m excited to see the girl who stole LLC’s heart in the flesh. For a little while, I thought you didn’t exist.”
“Well, here I am,” I said, with a laugh, unsure of how to respond to her comment.
“Ladies, it’s so good to see you all, but I have to get back home. Dallas, it really is a pleasure to meet you.” We waved goodbye, as she found Mike before getting back into her vehicle and leaving. We crowded into the bar, and as Big Al announced that the first round was on him, all the ol’ ladies groaned in unison. Not only were our nerves frazzled and stomachs rolling with soured liquor, now we would have to play babysitters to a bunch of grown men who we were sure would drink themselves stupid in celebration of regaining what was rightfully theirs.
Now that the issue in Lake Charles was solved, there was no need for the Hattiesburg chapter to hang around any longer. The next day, started with a teary goodbye as we prepared to leave and head back to Mississippi. I would miss my sisters, but they assured me they would keep in contact, and I promised the same in return. Maddie was anxious to get back home to Logan, standing impatiently at the door, as I gave a second round of hugs out before finally joining her and Red in the car. The bikes took the lead as we barreled down the interstate with no regard for the speed limit. The ride was long and quiet, as we all lost ourselves in our own thoughts. Mine drifted back to the first night I had arrived in Lake Charles and the mood I had found Luke in. He had promised that when this was all over he would tell me what had been weighing on his mind. As we neared home, I become more anxious about what he had to say. By the time we made it to Luke’s, I was a nervous wreck.
“Everything okay babe?” he asked, eyeing me cautiously as we sat at the kitchen counter. We had said our goodbyes to everyone, and now Luke and I had the house to ourselves.
“You told me you would tell me what was going on after the shit with Metal and Madness was over,” I reminded him, not elaborating further,
because I didn’t feel there was any need to do so.
“I told you I wanted to enjoy two weeks with you,” he corrected, standing on his toes to reach the back of the cabinet, searching for what I knew was his hidden stash of junk food.
“Cut the bullshit Luke and just tell me what’s going on,” I said, exasperated. I was tired of playing the waiting game with him. Luke took his time, analyzing me from across the room, as he shoved into his mouth a cookie he had retrieved from the back of the forbidden cabinet.
“Charlie Lott has offered one million dollars to a man to kill you.” What the fuck? My breathing ceased, my body stilled, and my heart went into overdrive at his words. He watched me closely, letting my new-found knowledge sink in, before he continued. “He doesn’t really want to kill you, he just wants someone to abduct you so he can come in and save the day in the hope it will be enough for you to want to be with him.” I sat in shock, listening to words I knew had to be true but were difficult to actually believe. “Dallas, I have a plan, but I’m gonna need your help. You think you’re up for it?” This part was easy to comprehend, easy to believe, and even easier to answer.
“Absolutely.”
Chapter 24
Dallas
I woke suddenly, finding that the room was cast in pale lighting from the flickering T.V. I had been dozing in and out of consciousness over the past few hours, a result of exhaustion from my struggle against waterboarding. I shivered at the thought of it, my movements waking me completely, and reminding me I had a job to do. I didn’t know how much time had passed, all I knew was that it was now dark outside. I had been left alone for the rest of the afternoon and I didn’t know what time the goons would be back. Step one of my mission was to get captured. Step two was to call Luke when my captors left the room. I was assured the phone lines would be working, I just had to make sure I got to the phone without getting caught. If in the event I couldn’t get to it, the plan was over. I had until midnight, and, by the lack of noise from outside, I might already be too late. I swallowed hard, my throat dry and scratchy, as I prepared myself for the five-foot journey to the phone. I sat in the chair, my pants soiled from my own urine, and my t-shirt covered in dry vomit. My hair was wild and untamed, damp strands sticking to my face and neck. I scooted my chair, moving only an inch, thankful for the thin, worn carpet. I pushed forward, letting the memory of Luke’s voice invade my head as I remembered how he had trained me. When he had talked me through my mission, he had transformed from my lover to my teacher.
