Los Banditos: A Biker Romance Collection

by Hazel Parker

  I threaded my hands through his hair and straddled him as he pulled me closer. A moan escaped my lips as a growl left his. I felt it in my toes. I had never been kissed with so much desire and passion in my life.

  He stood and hung his vest reverently on the back of my desk chair before yanking his shirt over his head. I was blinded again by his beauty but not distracted from my need.

  “I need you to take these pants off before I ruin them,” I groaned, struggling to unhook his belt.

  He grabbed me by the waist and sat me down beside him so he could stand. In quick succession, he kicked off his shoes, pushed down his pants, and sheathed his dick in a condom.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, running a finger through my folds.

  His fingers encountered my wet stickiness and I moaned his name, watching him place that finger in his mouth and suck my juices off.

  “Jenny,” he hissed, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me to the edge of the bed.

  In one quick thrust, he was deep inside of me and I screamed. My head tipped back, my chest arched forward. I was in heaven.

  “You’re so damn tight,” he groaned against my neck.

  I bit his shoulder and all hell broke loose. He held me by the waist as he pumped into me hard. I held on tightly to his shoulder, leaving nail marks and pulling him forward so our lips could meet. It was very likely I would be sore and possibly unable to walk tomorrow. And I was completely okay with that.

  “Oh, Solomon,” I moaned.

  I could feel my orgasm building and it was going to be a big one, the biggest climax of my life.

  “Let it go,” he growled into my ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth.

  I whimpered.

  “Give it to me,” he whispered, so deep and sexy.

  It was not a suggestion. It was a command.

  “Solomon,” I squeaked as I arched into the climax that crashed over me.

  Stars dotted my vision as I tried not to black out. I wanted to see him come with me. I focused my tunnel vision and looked as his thick dick disappeared inside of me. Both of us watched my pussy clamp down on him, milking him. He pumped three times before shuddering and collapsing on top of me.

  “So hot. So wet. So tight,” he moaned against my skin.

  I giggled, pleased that he felt the same way I did.

  “That was…”

  “Amazing,” he sighed before leaning up to kiss me on the lips.

  He picked me up and moved me over so he could lay down in the bed beside me. I snuggled into him and took a deep breath.

  “Solomon…” I had to ask. I couldn’t leave whatever this was up to chance or undefined. I had to know.

  He turned over so that we were face to face. This close, I could see emotions flashing so clearly in his eyes but too quickly for me to decipher.

  “What are we?”

  “What do you want us to be?”

  There was no doubt, no hesitation in my reply. “I want us to be together.”

  He was staring so intently and, for a second, I feared he was going to turn me down. But finally – finally! – he smiled and I knew I was going to be the happiest girl in the world.

  “I want the same,” he answered so sincerely, it was evident he spoke the truth.

  That was such a relief, but there was still more for me to say. I wasn’t sure how he would take it or if I could find the courage to say it. “I-I…”

  He moved closer and his eyes looked so deeply into my own. He ran his hands through my hair and smiled. “It’s only me.”

  He could probably feel how tense I was holding on to my most private thoughts.

  “It’s just that… I need a man who’s always there for me. I know we just met, but I don’t want you going into to this unclear. I don’t mean to be clingy and I know you have a life outside of me, but I can’t be with someone who doesn’t put me first.”

  His eyes were so different in that moment, softer than I knew eyes could be. The hard man I’d met in the club who fought until he made a man bleed was gone and instead I stared into the eyes of someone who cared deeply.

  “I can do that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “But I had this feeling that you didn’t have time for me. After our first night together, you said you couldn’t do this.”

  “I did say that. I had something else to do and, truthfully, you’d been a complete distraction.”

  I couldn’t help frowning at those words and he softly kissed the line between my brows before continuing.

  “But I couldn’t stay away.” He took my face in his hands, giving me no option but to look into his eyes. “You’re something else, Jenny. You get to me. Somehow you do. You… take my breath away. You’re too good for me, but I want you and I’m too selfish to let somebody else have you.”

  I grinned from ear to ear. To hear him claim me, like I was something to possess, turned me on in ways I couldn’t hide. I licked my lips and his eyes followed the tip of my tongue.

  “Good,” I said. “Because I don’t want anybody else.”

  Solomon was probably it for me and the thought made desire bloom in me once again. His eyes reflected the hunger I felt. Round two was coming and I couldn’t wait.

  “I have to say something else.”

  This sounded serious. “Okay.”

  “I’m in a motorcycle club.”

  “Is that what that vest is about?” I asked, tipping my head to the outlaw insignia on the back of his jacket.

  “Yup.”

  “So? What does that mean for us?”

  “That means I won’t always be around and I might have to do things I can’t let you know about.”

  “I can be okay with that. As long as you’ll remember that I don’t want to be second place.”

  I figured he was as tough as he looked. I was not naïve. I knew all about the motorcycle clubs in the area. Amongst gun, drug, and human trafficking, they were loud and violent. Some were thugs, but I knew some actually looked out for the community. I was hoping Solomon was a part of the latter. I couldn’t imagine I was wrong, considering I heard about Blue Nights burning down the same night he sent Sarah and I home. I wasn’t so naive as to believe it was a coincidence

  I chanced the confidence to look into his eyes.

  “Sweetheart, I promise I’ll do my best.”

  That was all I was asking for.

  **

  A Week Later

  I tried to stand confidently as Mrs. Bryan walked towards me. My canvas laid under a sheet, waiting to be unveiled, and a part of me feared it still wouldn’t be enough.

  “Well?” she said. “Let’s see it.”

  I yanked off the sheet and watched her eyes take it in.

  The last-minute sketch of Solomon had paid off and I was able to draw his entire face in great detail with bold color worthy of his face. His black eyes popped from the canvas. His face was painted in shades of red and his blond hair looked like heaven-spun gold.

  “It’s…” Her words hung in the air. “Amazing.”

  I took a shaky inhale. Thank God.

  “Every color is bold and painted with such precise lines. There’s no abstraction. It almost looks like a mosaic. They are curved, yet sharply defined. They seem to be stable, but they tumble at the same time. It’s… so beyond my wildest imagination.”

  Jo smiled at me from across the room.

  “It’s beautiful. You earned this A. You pass.”

  Chapter 15

  Solomon

  “Yo! Ghost!”

  Luke nodded to me from the office.

  “Meeting.”

  This was the first time I was allowed in the hallowed meeting room. Sure, I’d been near the room and been privy to some pretty crazy shit—that was the only way to prove my loyalty—but I’d never been allowed in. Now I was.

  “Coming.”

  Luke shut the door behind me and seated himself at the table. Our table was African Blac
kwood and our emblem was carved in the middle and painted white. Gus, our faithful leader, sat at the head. To the right of him was Warren, our vice president, Luke, our secretary, and Evan, our treasurer. Beside Evan was his twin brother and our unofficial enforcer, Ethan. Then sat Jason, Ace, Dead Shot, and me.

  “Go ahead, E,” Gus said, causing all eyes to turn to Ethan.

  “I don’t want to alarm anybody or anything, but I got some news.”

  A few of the members collectively groaned.

  “Hey! Shut your mouth. You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

  “Don’t get mad at them. You don’t exactly have a track record with good announcements,” Luke said, ever the meditator.

  “Yeah. Okay, whatever. Anyways. I thought you guys should know, I finally got an old lady.”

  “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming,” Warren said as Ace reached across the table to bump fists.

  “Congrats, man,” Ace said, smiling.

  “Wait for it,” Evan said, watching his brother’s neutral face as if he was waiting to be sure before he congratulated him.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked naively.

  “Because I know my brother and he wouldn’t announce that unless…well.”

  The look on Ethan’s face said his brother knew him well.

  “So you got a little more to say?” Gus asked, amused.

  “A little,” Ethan said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just thought I should warn you guys, just in case she wore her hair up around us.”

  I’m sure my face looked as confused as the rest of us felt. I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

  “She used to be a Skull,” Ethan said with a shrug.

  “What?”

  “The hell?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  So many things happened at once. So many people were talking. Some were standing in shock and others were trying to convince Ethan that he was out of his mind. Gus watched in silence as Ethan tried to talk over them and explain his position.

  Ethan was something else. It seemed he had an affinity for trouble. In the last year I’d been pledging, I’d seen him get into a lot of shit. I’d also seen him kick ass. So at the very least, I knew he wasn’t a traitor.

  Gus, finally tired with the yelling, spoke, and, as usual, everyone stopped to hear him. “Let’s all shut up for a minute and hear what our little troublemaker has to say for himself.”

  “Thanks, Gus,” Ethan said, completely ignoring the fact that Gus had insulted him. “Now, as I was trying to say, this is all just a big misunderstanding. I’m not a traitor and neither is she. She’s good, guys. For real. I vetted her myself. She used to be down with the crew, but her father’s a rat bastard, so she got out. She went to college, got a few degrees, and now she’s a social worker up in Flagstaff.”

  “Is that the nobody I saw in here last week?” Luke asked.

  “Yeah,” he said as if relieved.

  “Well the last time she was here, it seemed a lot like you were arguing.”

  “We were, but that’s all settled now. I want to make her my old lady, and before you say anything,” he paused, holding his hand up in case someone tried to interrupt him, “it’s a small tattoo. She’s getting it covered.”

  “So you just expect us to be okay with this?” Jason asked.

  “Honestly? Yes. I didn’t have to tell you and it’s a small thing that’s almost always covered up. I didn’t see the damn thing myself until after weeks of us dating.”

  “And you’re sure this isn’t some kind of set up?”

  “Positive,” he said, nodding.

  “All right then,” Gus said. “It’s settled. We’ll try to be accommodating to your new lady.”

  “Thanks, man,” Ethan said, exhaling in relief.

  “Anybody got any more questions before we bring this meeting to a close?” Gus asked, looking around the room.

  “Yeah. Who’s the rat bastard father?” Dead Shot asked.

  “What?” Ethan said with his blond eyebrows bunched together.

  “You said her dad’s a rat bastard and she used to be a Skull. I’m surmising the two are probably connected.”

  He laughed out loud. “Well. You certainly earned your name. Nothing gets past you, I see.”

  He didn’t bother responding. Instead, he waited as Ethan took a deep breath.

  “Her father’s Casper.”

  Again, everyone talked simultaneously.

  I laughed internally. The club was always full of surprises. My life was about to be perpetually exciting.

  “I have one more announcement,” Gus said, quieting the room. “We finally have a date. Axle is coming home.”

  Axle was a name I’d heard a few times. He seemed like this revered guy that everyone talked about, but he’d been in jail for the last six years. All for the club. Some shit had gone down and instead of letting one the brothers fall for it, he’d taken the bid. He’d never snitched and he’d made the protection the club got him in the cell work for him.

  A lot of the brothers were excited for him to be coming home. Apparently, he was appropriately named—the central cog for the club that everyone rotated around. He had been missed and even though he wasn’t the current VP, he seemed to be everyone’s choice for second in line as president—Gus was getting up there in age and wouldn’t be president forever. I couldn’t wait to meet the guy.

  Epilogue

  Warren

  She didn’t belong.

  That much was clear from the scowl on her face and the crying, mess of a woman in a hideous pink dress beside her. Though her friend was a bit distracting, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  The blazing-red hair on her head was a beacon and I followed her with my eyes from the entrance to the bar. She hovered protectively over her friend and only sat once she’d surveyed the surrounding area and deemed it secure.

  I liked that. Clearly she wasn’t here to ride a biker like the rest of the women.

  I knew most of the other women by face. I didn’t need to know their names. They were here for one thing.

  Pinky looked a lot like a good girl. Innocence and untouched by life, but Red looked tough. Which shouldn’t have piqued my interest.

  Tough girls and slutty girls were a dime a dozen in this bar, but to be together, well, that was the beginning of a good story to tell. Especially considering this bar wasn’t known for its prices on whiskey.

  This bar clearly stated what it was: a Bandit hangout.

  The MC owned and operated the bar, as well as a shit ton other properties in town, which the townies knew of and tried to steer clear of. This place didn’t look like a goddamn Applebee’s. Everything about it shouted biker bar from the line of bikes outside to the men in vests drinking with women on their laps to the pin-up posters on the wall.

  If anything, Pinky should have been shaking in her frills and Red should have taken her somewhere else. Yet there they sat at the bar, sipping a beer like they weren’t getting curious glances from the rest of the club and like this was your normal Friday night. Maybe they wanted to have a little fun.

  I wasn’t into damsels in distress, but I would have loved to take Red for a ride. I could find someone for her friend. It wouldn’t be the first time someone walked into our bar looking to try something new for the night and forget their real life. And they wouldn’t be the last. Whatever Red was looking for, I could give it to her.

  I slid onto the bar stool next to Red, making my presence known by sliding my leg against her thigh. Not enough to be perverted, but enough for her to know she had company.

  “Go away,” she said before I could open my mouth.

  Damn. I liked them feisty.

  “Now, Red, you don’t even know what I was going to say.”

  “Unless you’re offering free booze for the night, I don’t want to hear it.”

  She took a napkin and dabbed at the raccoon spots of makeup on her friend’s face.

  “I ca
n arrange that.”

  “Then do it.”

  Pinky threw back her shot of clear liquid before slamming it down.

  “And if I do, do I get the opportunity to spend a little more time with you?” I asked, smiling at Jerry who was tending to the bar tonight.

  She scowled but turned to me and I could make out just how pretty she was.

  Her friend behind her had her makeup ruined and her lipstick smudged. Red blotches covered her tear-streaked cheeks.

  But Red had smooth, pale skin and deep-brown eyes that were trying to figure me all out.

  “What’s eating you?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “And your friend?”

  “She’s fine too.”

  “Right, because being fine means sitting at a biker bar, drinking and crying,” I said as Jerry poured me a drink.

  She sighed heavily, obviously still annoyed but not as hostile as before. “Okay. You’re right. Everything is not fine.”

  That was my in and I wasn’t planning to let her out of here without, at the very least, her number.

  *****

  THE END

  Breaking Red

  Chapter One – Red

  Good God. Freedom. To say I was relieved would be an understatement. I was so glad I could cry tears of fucking joy. What I’d just endured was three hours of torture. First of all, the wedding was incredibly tacky, and I can say that: I used to be a wedding planner. I know tacky when I see it. From the lime-green and bubblegum-pink color scheme to the too-nice friend who actually was adhering to the dress code of said colors and attending this shit wedding. Who requests their guests wear lime green and bright pink? Sorry if this applies to you, but seriously. I can’t.

  Secondly, we shouldn’t have been there. Period. I don’t know why I allowed Daniella to go. I don’t give a damn that she received an invite and was too polite to ignore it. She should have RSVP’d no, but she didn’t. Then she didn’t want to be alone, so she brought me as her plus one. I gave zero fucks about dress codes or formal wear and showed up as I was. The fact is that under no circumstances should you attend the wedding of your ex-husband. Especially when he’s marrying the secretary he swore you shouldn’t be worried about. That sucked, but Daniella went anyway and dragged me along with her to the shit show. Citing something about being the bigger person. Bless her sweet little heart.