Brutal Beast (Vicious Vipers MC Book 5)

by Lynn Burke

  “I can’t promise my mind won’t go there,” he tossed back without hesitation. “Especially in about five minutes when I attempt to take a cold shower and calm the fuck down.”

  I snorted, the thought of him wrapping his big hand around his cock while thinking about my lush tits and fine as fuck ass sending a rush of wetness to coat my panties for at least the tenth time that day. “Good night, Vigil.”

  “Good night, wildcat.” He turned, but I caught the adjustment he made to his bulge trapped in those tight jeans.

  Damn him.

  I slammed and locked the door behind me, drawing Devon’s attention off the post-game show.

  “Thanks again, Mom. That was probably the most fun I’ve had on a game day.”

  My smile came easy, and I leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I start my new job tomorrow, so I’m heading to bed, baby. Don’t stay up too late.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Other than going to Vigil’s, I want you to stick at home tomorrow, okay?”

  “Yep. You already said,” he replied, his focus back on the TV.

  “I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

  “Yep.”

  “And you’ve got me on speed dial—”

  “Mom.” He rolled his eyes.

  With a heavy sigh, I turned away thinking as I did throughout every single day that my little man was growing up too damn fast and no matter what I did to protect him, I would fail.

  I brushed my teeth, emptied my bladder, and crawled into bed a few minutes later, my clunking AC drowning out the sounds of the TV in the living room. Leftover energy from Vigil’s presence and his words still tickled over my skin.

  Between him and the new job starting the following morning, I knew I wasn’t going to sleep.

  I’d told myself I had zero interest in touching myself to thoughts of even a decent man, but who was I kidding? At the least, I would sleep better.

  Rather than ignore the feelings Vigil brought to life that I hadn’t enjoyed in years, I focused on it and allowed the fantasy to unfold, sliding my fingers beneath the elastic of my panties. Widening my legs and a quick downward sweep lifted my hips off the bed and solidified one fact in my head.

  Vigil turned me on to the point of combustion with mere words alone. I couldn’t decide if I hated or loved that fact.

  Lower lip between my teeth to keep quiet, I used my fingers to bring myself release I hadn’t enjoyed in too damn long a time. My pulse thundered in my ears as the vivid memory of his blue-gray eyes seared through me, flushing my entire body.

  My climax ripped through me, arching my back, sending a rush of wetness to coat my fingers. His name whispered in my head, but I clamped my teeth shut to keep from putting that fact into the atmosphere.

  “Damn him,” I whispered as my heart thudded in my ears and I came down from my pulse-thrumming high.

  I told myself there was nothing wrong with a little fantasy involving a beastly ginger and his massive cock. I also told myself I would be ordering myself a vibrator the next day when I got home from work. Might as well get off on the fantasy of him since nothing would ever come of it in real life.

  God knows my body sure as hell relaxed into the old mattress. Touching myself to thoughts of Vigil had been worth it. I just had to keep that fantasy in check.

  I closed my eyes with a sigh and rolled to burrow into the pillow, not even bothering to force away my smile.

  Chapter Nine

  Vigil

  “Got anything for me, Devil?” I asked the second he walked into my office on Wednesday morning.

  He pulled his laptop from the black leather bag over his shoulder and set it on the edge of my desk. “Nothing.”

  “You’re fucking with me.”

  “Nope.” He sat in the chair across from me and booted his laptop up. “It’s like they never existed, same as I said last week.”

  “Witness Protection?” I asked what I’d concluded.

  “Either that or they’re running from something or someone and know a guy who hooked them up.”

  Not that it truly mattered, but Michelle and Dillon lived in my neighborhood, and I didn’t exactly like not knowing who or what I might face in the future because of their secretive past.

  “They’re hiding something, I know that for sure,” I muttered, my fingers taking up a steady tap on my desktop like they normally did when I thought too hard.

  Ryker and Stone walked in, Stone dropping onto the couch while my Sergeant at Arms leaned against the wall in his usual stance.

  “Where’s Ricky?” Ryker asked.

  “Don’t know.”

  His scowl mirrored mine. “Want me to go upstairs and drag his ass out of bed?”

  “He’s not up there,” I said, my mind replaying walking into his unlocked disaster of a room a half-hour earlier—same as I’d done the week before. “Already checked. Bike’s gone from out back, too.”

  “Two weeks in a row,” Ryker said.

  “Yeah. Don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I will soon. Let’s get started,” I said, deciding to save the topic of his bullshit for later. “Devil?”

  Our treasurer gave his weekly numbers report. He went on for a few about the income from the chop shop and the current black market he dealt with while I fought to focus.

  Between Ricky, Dillon hanging at my place the previous two days while his mom worked, and my watching their house like a goddamn stalker in the hopes for an eyeful of the wildcat, I had a lot on my mind. As long as the shop made money atop paying Ryker, Sully, the other mechanics, and their secretary Dasia, I didn’t give a fuck.

  “Ryker, you talk to Klingon lately?” I asked once Devil finished up with his report.

  He shook his head.

  “I’ll give him a call later on to see how things are going out there,” I said, still distracted. “I’ll ask after Jenny, too.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Nothing new on those fuckers we helped put behind bars?” I asked about the next old bullshit we needed to keep an eye on.

  Stone leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Giada’s sister said the senator is adamant on keeping the cartel members there. No plea bargains, no parole.”

  “That take down definitely helped her father’s image—and the promise to clean up the streets even though we’re the sneaky fucks who did it.”

  “You mean I’m the sneaky fucker.”

  I snorted at Devil. “Take the credit, I don’t give a fuck. It’s done, that’s all I care about.”

  “Giada and her father make amends?” Ryker asked Stone, still unmoved from his propped up position beside my door.

  “Fuck no. He wrote her off, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. She sees her sister once a month without his knowing, so she’s content.”

  “So what else is going on?” I asked, glancing from one officer to another. No one had jack shit to say. “It’s too quiet.”

  Ryker nodded his agreement, and I sat back with a heavy exhale. “Even though we don’t have any bullshit right now to keep us on high alert, I don’t want to get lazy and blindsided. Let’s keep our eyes and ears open. Ryker, want to put some feelers out down in Southie? Make sure there isn’t new cartel or sex slave shit stirring up?”

  “Will do.”

  “Devil, work your magic.”

  “I always do.”

  “Cocky prick,” I jabbed with a grin.

  “And you fucking love me,” he said, snapping his laptop shut and blowing me a kiss.

  “Damn right.”

  He stood last to follow Ryker and Stone out a few minutes later.

  “Keep on digging for my new friends, yeah?”

  Devil peered at me, one eyebrow raised. “You like this girl or something?”

  I tipped my head to the side and shrugged. “She’s one hell of a wildcat with an ass I’m dying to get my hands
on.”

  He chuckled. “Guess that’s a yes. Thought you didn’t like baggage, though?”

  My forehead furrowed. “Dillon’s not baggage,” I shot out without thought and instantly wondered over my protective nature—especially against one of my brothers.

  Devil’s eyebrow rose again, but higher. “Well I’ll be damned.”

  I scowled and threw a pen at him. He laughed and ducked. “Just keep digging.”

  He nodded and disappeared out my door.

  I glanced around my office, my hands lightly resting on the old desk I’d sat behind a hell of a lot longer than I’d ever expected to. We’d had a good run, my brothers and I, and having Ricky by my side as Vice President couldn’t be beat. My only living relative, my only real family left on the face of the fucking earth.

  Lips pursed, I considered his situation. I’d warned him to not fuck up again. So why the fuck did he skip out? Fuck knew the meetings the previous couple of years never lasted more than a half hour. Wasn’t like it was laborious or dull. Hell, we’d even thrown a few punches, something he and I both enjoyed the hell out of.

  I scrubbed a hand down over my face and beard, tugging on the wiry strands below my chin. “The fuck am I gonna do with you?” I muttered to no one. He claimed to be sober since the day he fought with Bucky, and I hadn’t seen evidence or heard stories otherwise, so where the fuck had he gotten to?

  The text I’d shot off to him at finding his room empty hadn’t been answered.

  Tapping my fingers on my desk, my focus on my cell, I decided to make a call. While I’d never been close with Klingon like Ryker was, I couldn’t deny the man had one hell of a head on his shoulders. It was like the fucker had his masters in psychology or some such shit.

  I placed the call thinking it was time for some serious change—in the hopes of seeing some serious changes.

  My brother might hate my guts for life, but maybe he’d have a better chance at said life. Sometimes making the right choices for loved ones hurt like fucking hell, but I would do what was right for Ricky even if it tore us apart.

  Chapter Ten

  Mila

  My body ached, but I supposed that was normal for working thirty hours as a janitor where there was more than enough work for one woman alone. At least I kept busy scrubbing rooms, toilets, and buffing floors, and didn’t have too much frivolous down time. It didn’t keep my mind busy, though, and I thought entirely too much about our situation, but more about Vigil, damn him.

  I put that new vibrator to good use. Got my money’s worth in forty-eight hours easily. It still felt like something was missing, namely a large cock, hands and mouth, hard muscle and cradling arms. Vigil had all of those and tempted me to just have a bit of fun. Fucking only, no attachment.

  I knew myself too well, though. I craved compliments even though I pushed them away. I desired affection knowing hands oftentimes hurt. I wanted intimacy even though vulnerability scared the shit out of me.

  At least I had my son who fulfilled a little of those longings.

  I glanced over at Devon in the passenger seat as he fiddled with the car’s radio. We’d gone out after our breakfast—my toast and his entire box of cereal—with his school supply list on our day’s agenda. We hadn’t been out on a date for years. When he’d been younger, we used to get ice cream every weekend and walk on the beach collecting shells and pretty stones.

  Once I hooked up with the ex, going out without him or an enforcer got nixed. We had no independence and rarely any freedom.

  We truly had so many things to be thankful for.

  He scrolled through a station, the upbeat music that cut in and out bringing a smile to my face.

  “Oh! Put it back!” I said, twirling my finger like I rewound the station.

  “This stupid song?” Devon asked, settling the radio back on the One Direction song I loved.

  “Yeah.” I belted the chorus knowing he rolled his eyes, loving that he let me have my time. “Nobody, nobody!” I sang with my boys.

  “Mom,” Devon groaned.

  I sang louder, turning the volume up to drown out my lousy voice. Laughter burst from me when he slapped his hands over his ears. Carefree and easy, and I clung to that feeling hard as hell, needing that to be our new normal.

  But the song ended too soon, and Devon turned the volume back down.

  “Hey.” He sat forward, peering out the windshield while I continued to grin. “Is that Vigil’s pack?”

  My heart stalled out as I focused on the biker ahead, noting the five or so others ahead of him. The old crashed into the new in the bubble I’d placed around us in those precious moments in song.

  We gained on the biker group even though I left off the gas a bit, keeping with the traffic on 95 north. My GPS told me our exit veered to the right in a mile, and I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

  The back of the road captain’s cut became clear, the top rocker answering Devon’s question.

  “It’s them!” Pure joy shone through my son’s voice, and my stomach churned.

  Their blinkers went on seconds before I hit mine to take the exit my GPS commanded. The pack took the exit. Unfortunately, I had to as well.

  They merged to go left at the light, and I pulled straight ahead toward the other waiting cars, passing the bikers one by one, their loud rumbling racing my heart. Vigil led his brothers, and I held my breath while glancing over at him.

  “Mom! Window!” Devon barked, and I caved. “Vigil!” he shouted over the barking engines as the light turned green.

  Vigil turned, his face lighting up in a grin when his focus landed on us. He lifted a hand to wave, and a horn sounded behind us.

  I ripped my attention off the tight white t-shirt clasped around his upper arms beneath his cut and moved forward with traffic.

  Devon swiveled to keep them in sight while I crossed Route 1, heading for the shopping plaza.

  It took a good fifteen minutes of walking around the superstore to calm myself down. Would I ever be able to hear a chopper without anxiety twisting my stomach or fear jerking my heart into hyper-drive?

  We crossed off one item after another from Devon’s list, even the laptop the high school suggested he acquire. While there, I also insisted on a couple pairs of jeans and new sneakers. They weren’t the best brands, but we didn’t have the funds we’d used to.

  At least Devon wouldn’t go without.

  Arms loaded with bags, we meandered back out into the bright sun. At least the humidity had pushed out of New England with the south-easterly wind fluttering strands of my hair around my face. It smelled like the ocean, and the sudden yearning to see its waves crash on the shore sent an ache through me.

  “We ought to go get some lunch,” I said, glancing around for the car. I’d been too upset by Vigil’s pack to take note of where I’d parked.

  Devon stepped ahead with confidence, so I followed on his heels. “McDonalds?” he asked.

  I grimaced. “I was thinking more along the lines of—”

  “Vigil!”

  I side-stepped to peer around Devon and found Vigil leaning against our car, his bike parked in the spot beside it. My heart took off again, and I inhaled a steady breath before plastering a smile on my face.

  Grinning again, Vigil popped the trunk that I hadn’t locked.

  That damn man totally discombobulated my brain. I never forgot to lock my car...

  “How you doing, Dill?” he asked, after a quick glance at my face.

  “We just got all my shit for school.”

  I started to chide my son, the name Devon on my lips. Snapping my mouth shut, I watched Vigil take his bags and put them in the trunk before slapping his back in a bro hug.

  My hands shook as I put one arm load into the trunk beside the other bags.

  Vigil let go of Devon and grabbed the others from me. “Wildcat,” he murmured in greeting, the nicknam
e heating my cheeks.

  Refusing to give him what he wanted, I went with an indifferent tone while replying, “Vigil.”

  “You got my text,” Devon said, snapping my head his way and narrowing my gaze even though he didn’t look at me. Sneaky little turd.

  “Yeah, and I was thinking about hitting the clam shack before it shut down for the summer,” Vigil replied. “Figured I’d wait for you to finish shopping to see if you wanted to go with me.”