Hard as an Outlaw: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Devil’s Fighters MC) (The Way of the Biker Book 1)

by Paula Cox

  “Anna has convinced Derek to give me more time off,” Alyssa said now, as Lynn brought them their refills of drinks and food.

  Prince beamed. “That’s great. Thank you, Anna.”

  “How did you do it?” Rick asked. “Alyssa made it sound like your boss is pretty strict.”

  Anna smirked. “He is. But after thirteen years working with the guy, I have my ways.”

  Rick waggled his dark blond eyebrows expectantly. “Do tell.”

  Anna laughed. “Nothing like that.”

  “Pity. I was hoping for a hot work gossip story.”

  Anna winked. “He wishes.”

  Alyssa smiled happily. This was the first normal moment she had in what felt like ages. She’d had her fair share of mundane times with Prince, too, but this was different. This was them, out with friends, having fun. It felt almost surreal.

  Prince grabbed her hand underneath the table and entwined their fingers together.

  Alyssa responded immediately, running her thumb along the back of his hand.

  “So…I was thinking…” she began then. A thought had entered her mind since Anna had told her about the result of her phone call with Derek, and now she felt it was time to voice it. “Since I’m going to be here for another month…”

  Prince frowned, guessing that she was going somewhere he probably wouldn’t like. “What?”

  “Maybe you don’t have to fight,” Alyssa said. “I mean, let’s face it, we now have more time to figure out an alternate way.”

  Prince shot a worried glance at Anna, and even Rick looked alarmed.

  “Oh, relax,” Alyssa snapped, frustrated by their stupid secrecy. “Anna knows everything.”

  “You told her?”

  “She’s my best friend. Yes, I told her.”

  “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what worries you,” Anna offered.

  Prince watched her skeptically. Finally, he nodded, seeming satisfied that he could trust her. “Good,” he said. Thank you,” he added as an afterthought. He turned back to Alyssa and sighed. “Aly, I told you, we’ll never be able to create the right circumstances. If we don’t take this chance, it’s quite possible that we won’t get another one.”

  “But—”

  “No,” Prince cut her off firmly. “It’s done, Aly. I’m doing this. I have to.”

  Alyssa scowled. Eventually, she sighed. She supposed she couldn’t be faulted for trying. “Fine,” she finally relented. “I hate this.”

  Prince smiled gently at her. “I know. I’m not particularly thrilled about it either.”

  Alyssa stared at him. It occurred to her that in all of this she had not once stopped to think about how it must feel to him. He wasn’t fighting for the glory; he was fighting for survival. He was fighting because, once again, he had no other choice.

  Those thoughts accompanied her for the next twenty-four hours. Anna had her mind set on going to a hotel in order to let Alyssa and Prince spend as much time with each other before the big fight, and Lynn had been adamant that she should stay at her place and not pay for a hotel room.

  So, the day of the fight, Alyssa had her house and Prince all to herself. She had not slept the night before, but she didn’t feel tired. In fact, she felt wired, alert, and taut—again. She always felt taut of late. Prince, by contrast, seemed to be at peace with the entire universe. Presently, he sat on the couch in the living room, reading a book as Alyssa prepared lunch.

  When she peered out of the kitchen’s door and saw him lost in the pages as if it were just another afternoon, Alyssa exploded. She turned off the stove and marched to where he was. She stopped in front of the couch, her hands on her hips, towering over him.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Prince looked up. He appeared utterly confused. “What?”

  “What?” Alyssa repeated, incredulous. “What? You’re going up against that…that…thing in five hours, and you’re sitting here reading as if nothing was about to happen!”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  “You could fuck me!”

  Alyssa blinked, astonished at her own outburst. That was not what she had planned to say. It just came out.

  Prince smirked up at her. Instantly, his green eyes darkened with desire and took on a malicious twinkle that never failed to make Alyssa weak in the knees.

  “I mean—” she tried to stammer, still not believing herself.

  “No, no, no,” Prince said, forgetting everything about The Call of the Wild and standing up, ready to respond to an entirely different kind of call. “No backsies.”

  Before Alyssa could protest, he was scooping her up in his arms. She squealed in surprise.

  “What are you doing? Put me down!” But she was laughing.

  Prince began to walk with her in his arms, his step never faltering.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the kitchen, of course. I want a reprise of the first time.”

  Alyssa’s breath caught in her throat. His eyes were deeper than she had ever seen them. She felt like she could drown in them. Moreover, she wanted to drown in them.

  Prince walked to the kitchen and laid her gently down on the floor. The terracotta tiles were cool against her skin. He leaned over her and kissed her so long and deep that her head spun. As always whenever Prince’s lips touched hers, Alyssa’s usually sharp brain short-circuited. She didn’t know where was up and where was down anymore. Hell, when Prince kissed her, she hardly knew her own name.

  It was like the first time, and yet it wasn’t. Back then, despite their shared past, Prince had tasted like a stranger that she was just getting to know. This time, he tasted familiar. That familiarity filled her with warmth so fast and so fierce that she was almost overwhelmed by her own emotions.

  Alyssa reached up to wrap her arms around his powerful shoulders, and she pulled him impossibly closer still, and she kissed him again. Prince responded immediately, circling her waist with one arm and lifting her a little. He buried the fingers of his other hand in Alyssa’s dark, long locks, as he cupped the back of her head and deepened the kiss. Alyssa grabbed the front of his tank top with her free hand and held on for dear life, irrationally terrified that if she ever let go he would disappear and all would be lost.

  Like always when Prince’s touch was on her, she felt as though her whole body was consumed with fire. The energy that ran over her in waves was electric, and Alyssa had no choice but to abandon herself to it completely. Their searching hands wandered all over each other’s body, past the fabric of the clothes, seeking warm skin.

  “I love you, Aly,” Prince breathed, pulling back just enough to stare deep into her eyes. “I want you.”

  Alyssa’s heart was beating a mile a minute within her chest, and for once it wasn’t out of tension. “I love you, too,” she said fervently. “And I want you too, more than I ever wanted anyone.”

  The urge took over then. They undressed each other in earnest, impatient to be skin-to-skin on the kitchen’s floor. Alyssa ran her gaze along the whole length of Prince’s body and did her best to brand the image into her memory. Prince’s body was a thing of glory and perfection, and try as she might to hold on tight to her self-esteem, she still couldn’t believe he had gotten naked for her. He was better than any fantasy she might have had when they were younger—and that was saying a lot, because those had been some hot fantasies.

  Prince’s breath on her skin was warm, but instead of adding to the insufferable Louisiana heat, it only added to her arousal. As always, whenever they lay naked together, Alyssa turned her mind off and allowed herself to just feel. And Prince could make her feel everything. Whenever he lay on top of her, it was all about him. The world faded away and only he existed, only he mattered. Alyssa loved the way the universe disappeared and her mind quieted whenever Prince made love to her.

  “I want you,” Alyssa said again.

  Prince smirked like he had smirked that very first time. He said the same thing,
too: “Yes, ma’am.”

  And then his lips were on hers, tracing a steaming hot pattern from her neck all the way down to her navel. Alyssa spread her legs wider, her heart rate increasing with the sweet anticipation of what was to come. She craved Prince’s tongue on her vagina in the same way that lungs craved air.

  Prince didn’t make her wait for very long; he, too, was too eager to take his sweet time and tease her mercilessly, as he so often did. His palms roamed over Alyssa’s naked belly, hips, and thighs even as his tongue began its dance, as if he longed to touch her with his whole body. Throughout the mind-blowing passion of Prince’s touch, there was always an underlying tenderness that filled Alyssa with love.

  Once again, the tip of Prince’s tongue worked its magic. He moved it in ways that Alyssa had never thought possible, pleasuring her in ways that she couldn’t even pleasure herself whenever she set out on a self-love session. He was eager, but he still paced himself, leading her through a gradual process that would ultimately, as always, culminate in ecstasy. The tip of Prince’s tongue brushed gently over Alyssa’s clitoris, delivering energetic little flicks that were like electric jolts and small, teasing licks that drove her insane.

  He coaxed her patiently, steadily, and maddeningly into orgasm, and when her climax finally exploded it was as if the whole world turned white. Alyssa barely realized he had pulled back. It took her a few moments to regain her bearings, and when she did, Prince was grinning down at her, clearly pleased with herself.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed that,” he said, his voice rough with his own desire.

  Alyssa reached out to grasp his shoulder. She pulled him down for yet another deep kiss that she was very glad she was lying down for, because it would have been sure to have knocked her off her feet if she wasn’t.

  God, but she wanted him.

  “I need you, Prince,” she said, breathing the words against his lips. “Now. I need you now.”

  Prince kissed her back passionately, biting gently at her bottom lip before finally drawing back. “You have me,” he promised. Whether he meant physically or emotionally, Alyssa couldn’t be sure; perhaps, hopefully, he meant both.

  Alyssa moaned, expressing her lust freely. The anticipation to have him inside of her made her shiver. It made her impatient, hungry. Starving for him.

  Prince was just as famished. He gently but decidedly slid inside of her, and the sensation took Alyssa’s breath away. She felt herself clench down around him instantly. It was glorious, all-consuming, and mind-blowing. It was something beautiful that defied language and that Alyssa had yet to get used to—and that she hoped she would never get used to and never take for granted. As always, it felt as though Prince simply belonged inside of her.

  They knew each other’s body by now. They knew how to drive each other wild. They wasted no time getting into it, both of them driven by a passion and by an urgency that neither of them would ever admit had quite a bit to do with the impending doom that seemingly awaited for them later that night.

  Alyssa pressed the back of her head and shoulders into the hard floor and levered herself so that she could arch her hips upwards and increase the friction against Prince’s pelvis. They moaned in unison, the movement hitting them both in just the right way.

  They danced their dance then, as the outside world probably kept turning; they couldn’t be sure, and they didn’t care. They eased into a rhythm they both knew and longed for. Fast strokes and furious flicks, clenches of muscles and swaying of hips. Hungry, urgent thrusts and slow, languid strokes. It was sensuous and sensual and sexual all at the same time, a combination that was, at the very least, explosive. Prince went deep inside of her, and Alyssa always took him readily.

  If asked, neither of them would be able to say how long it went on—if minutes or hours or who knew. They didn’t care. Time was another thing that did not matter whenever they made love.

  Prince satisfied Alyssa time and time again, ultimately gifting her with three more mind-blowing orgasms. She gave in each time, unwilling to put any restraints on herself whenever she was with him; after all, restraints were how they had lost each other in the first place.

  Eventually, Prince gave in to his own climax. Alyssa held him through the aftershocks until he lay still on top of her. They remained unmoving for a while, and then Prince rolled off of her and lay down on the cool floor next to her. The tiles underneath Alyssa’s naked back had turned burning hot a long time ago, but she didn’t care.

  She turned her head and found he was already staring at her.

  “I love you,” he said.

  He said it in a different way than usual. Despite his best efforts to open up to her—old habits die hard—and Prince was always somewhat guarded—even around Alyssa, even when he was baring his feelings. Not this time. This time, he was open and naked in more than the physical sense. This time, he was unguarded.

  Alyssa’s heart swelled.

  “I love you, too,” she declared easily. Because that was the thing when it came to admitting her love with Prince…it was as easy as breathing. “Please, don’t get yourself killed tonight.”

  Prince smiled. He reached over and pulled her close to him. He kissed the top of her head like he used to do when they were teenagers, as they lay on Alyssa’s bed in her bedroom. “I’ll do my best.”

  Alyssa wrapped one arm around his waist and snuggled as close as humanly possible. “I don’t know what I’d do if…” She trailed off, unable to speak the words.

  Prince tightened his hold around her. “Let’s hope you never have to find out.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The fight was the single most horrible experience of Alyssa’s life. It was even worse than attending her parents’ funeral. At the very least, their death had been an accident. This was an orchestrated affair, and it made her sick to her stomach. She seriously came very close to fainting more times than she would care to admit as she looked around at the cheering crowd. They were screaming at the men in the ring. They were screaming at the men to kill each other. They wanted to see death. They thought it was a game. They didn’t know that it was Alyssa’s whole life.

  Standing in the first row beside her, Anna’s eyes were wide as saucers. She looked as out of place as a lamb amongst a pack of wolves. She was trying to be brave and not comment on it and not make things worse for Alyssa, but it was all too clear that she thought this was folly and she had just landed amongst madmen. Alyssa didn’t blame her; in fact, she thought the same.

  Lynn was handling it a little better. She had never been to one of these fights, of course, but she had known more than she cared to about them, and at the very least she had come prepared.

  Rick was, of course, the one who was handling it better than all of them. He had spoken a few words with Prince before the fight began, probably giving him technical advice. Now, his eyes were fixed on the ring and on everything that happened. He followed both men’s movements like a hawk. His whole body was taut with the same tension that was eating Alyssa up from the inside.

  On the opposite side of the ring, Bennie Lenday enjoyed the whole experience. He was drinking it all up as if it were the very nectar that gave him life. Alyssa suspected that it kind of was. The man was Satan himself; there was simply no other explanation for the malicious glint of pleasure shining in his dark eyes. Even from a distance, even through the ropes of the ring, even through the competitors’ legs as they danced around each other in their mortal dance, Alyssa could spot the evil glint in Bennie’s eyes.

  Dark eyes, dark soul, she thought. It was something she thought—whenever she was faced with that excuse of a man.

  Their eyes met across the ring, and he nodded at her. Alyssa felt sick. She turned away and forced herself to look back at the ring.

  She wished she could hide somewhere and not come out until it all was said and done. Prince was holding his own, but Taylor “The Jack” Jackman was a mountain of a man. More than that, Taylor “The Jack” Jackman was a k
iller. Alyssa could tell from the way he moved, eagerly and studiously at the same time, like an animal stalking his prey. There was a beastly glint in his small, dark eyes. (Dark eyes, dark soul.) A fiendish grin had been plastered on his sweaty, ugly face since the fight had begun, and it was yet to go away.

  Alyssa wondered if Taylor Jackman may not be that ugly underneath all that fury and animalistic rage. It was impossible to tell. His features were permanently contorted in a grimace of fury and ferocity. The man thirsted for blood. He gave Alyssa the creeps.

  “Oh God,” she choked out when Jackman managed to land a kick home, his foot hitting Prince hard in the ribs.

  Beside her, Anna took her hand and held on. Alyssa squeezed back just as strongly.

  “It’s going to be okay, Lyssa,” Lynn tried to reassure her. “He’s a great fighter.”