Jerry's Passion: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 6)

by Chiah Wilder

  “What about the rest of you? Oh, Puck, can you please bring me a Coors?”

  Puck looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Jerry chuckled. “Do you think you should have a beer with your dad around? I mean, you don’t want to cause any grief for Puck if he serves you and your dad goes fucking ballistic.” Puck’s face relaxed.

  “I don’t think my dad would mind, but I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. I’ll just take a Diet Coke, no ice.” She moved her hair behind her shoulder. “How’s Addie been?”

  “Good.” Chas rubbed his hand over his face.

  “So everyone is just good?” She smiled at the prospect when he set her pop down in front of her. “Thanks, Puck.” He scurried away to the safety of the bar. After she took a sip, she turned to Jerry, her voice soft. “And how have you been?”

  “Okay.” His gaze lingered on her mouth, her full lips begging to be kissed or wrapped around his cock. He shifted his eyes upward, locking onto hers, and he sucked in his breath when he saw longing in them. In that moment, it was as if they were the only ones in the room; the physical awareness of each other was that acute. Seeing her, being so close to her, made him crave her like an addict. He’d tasted her mouth, and he couldn’t forget its flavor.

  “I need to talk to you.” Throttle’s gruff voice broke the connection between them.

  “What about?” Jerry asked, his gaze still on Kylie’s face.

  Throttle stood from the table and jerked his head to the area where the pool tables were. He started to walk away. Jerry rose from his chair and followed him to the corner of the room. Before he could say anything, Throttle shoved his face a couple of inches from his and snarled, “What the fuck is going on between you and Kylie?”

  Jerry stepped back. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. I see the way you’re looking at each other.”

  “We’ve always talked and flirted with each other. It’s no big deal.”

  “Bullshit. This is different. You both seem too familiar with each other. Shit, man, you’re fucking her with your eyes. Do you know what a goddamned idiot you are for messin’ with her?”

  Jerry shoved Throttle away. “Keep outta my business.” He stormed off, but paused in the doorway. “I got shit to do. Tell me when you guys are ready for dinner. It was nice seeing you, Kylie.” He turned around quickly and left the room, taking the steps two at a time. There was no way he wanted to see the hurt look in Kylie’s eyes. They’d talk later, but he had to get away from her before he did something he’d regret.

  He closed the door to his old room, where he’d been crashing for the previous three nights since the landlord had decided to paint all the apartments in the complex where he lived. He stared at the rain as it soaked the ground, his body aching from unfulfilled desire.

  Jerry didn’t hear her come in, only felt the brush of nails against his lower back. Wendy and Rosie often came down to pay him a visit, and he was so not in the mood to explain why he didn’t want to fool around. “Wendy, not now.” Then a sweet, familiar scent drifted around him and he spun around, crushing Kylie against him. He wanted to be part of her—not just inside her but all around her. Twisting in his arms and arching her body, she sought to get free. “Why you pulling away from me?” he said as his mouth tried to capture hers.

  “You thought I was Wendy? Does she just drop by your room all the time? Fuck, why wouldn’t you think it was me? You’re still with all the… girls, aren’t you?” Her blue eyes clawed at him like talons.

  “No,” he said simply as he struggled to keep his hold on her.

  “Liar. Let me go!”

  “Never. Now calm down and listen. I haven’t been with any woman since I first came to Crested Peak and you dragged me to that lame-ass festival.” He swallowed her retort with his demanding mouth, plunging his tongue in deep, savoring her taste and feel. After a few seconds, her squirming stopped and she looped her hands around his neck, pulling him even closer to her face.

  His hands glided down over her hips and cupped her ass, her small moan hitting him right in the dick. Each step they took moved them closer to his bed, until his calves hit the side of it and he eased her down on top of the mattress. “Don’t you know I’m fuckin’ crazy about you? The smell of your hair, the softness of your skin, the way you taste—all of it drives me crazy. I can’t get enough of it. I missed you, babe.”

  They lay on his bed, the rain spattering against the window, and they kissed. Deeply. Passionately. They clung to each other’s mouths—their lips raw with desire and want—not daring to let go for fear that the moment they shared would flitter away before they could hold on to it. Just when his finger slid under her T-shirt and skimmed the underside of her soft breasts, someone knocked on the door.

  Raising his head up, Jerry said, “I’m busy.”

  “I need to talk to you.” Banger’s baritone voice was somewhat muffled through the wood door.

  Jerry bolted up from the bed as Kylie leapt up, pulling her T-shirt down. “Where should I go?” she whispered as panic replaced her glaze of arousal.

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he yanked her behind him into the bathroom. “Stay here. And don’t fucking listen. It could be club business. Damn, what a fuckin’ mess.”

  She giggled and pulled him back to her, kissing him, her soft tongue tickling the roof of his mouth. He groaned and squeezed her butt. “Babe, you’re killing me. I can’t face your dad with a damn boner.” He pulled away and closed the door.

  “Are you opening up, or what?” Banger’s voice had an edge of irritation.

  “Coming at you.” Jerry smoothed down his hair, thought of Banger breaking his neck—which helped his hard dick go limp—and opened the door. “What’s up?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could muster.

  Banger walked in and leaned against the wall. “You did good with the Skull Crushers. You spotted them then figured the two dirtbags they were staying with had some connection, and no one suspected shit.”

  “Thanks, but the credit goes to Wanda for living in such a shithole.” They both laughed.

  “We’re gonna pay the couple a visit, just so they know your warning wasn’t idle.” Banger looked around the room. “How long is your place gonna take to be done?”

  “It’s finished now. I’m gonna move back tonight. It’ll be good to get back.”

  “Yeah. Living at the club can be a helluva good time. Easy pussy, brothers all around, booze twenty-four-seven, but it can be too much after a while. It’s good to have a place you call your own.”

  Normally, Jerry would sit back and shoot the shit with Banger. He knew the prez was killing time because Belle was doing the girls’ night with all the old ladies, but he had Kylie in the bathroom, and he wasn’t in the mood to pass the time with him. “You want to join us for barbecue at Big Rocky’s? A group of us is going. Mostly brothers whose old ladies are out.” He smiled.

  “Hell yeah. That beats sitting at home wondering what they’re doing. Even though Belle is good and pregnant, I still can’t stand thinking ‘bout a man coming on to her. Fuck. See what women do to your head? You got time, though. You’re young, and trying new pussy all the time is fun. What time are you all going?”

  “In about an hour. I’m sure Hawk’s going too.”

  “Oh, yeah. He can’t stand being without Cara. I gotta admit I never saw that one coming. I figured him as being single his whole life.” He chuckled.

  “Yeah. Everyone’s still surprised on that one.” Why the fuck did Banger have to pick tonight to talk up a storm? Fuck!

  “I don’t want to stay too late. Kylie’s back for the summer, and I want to spend some time with her tonight. She’s supposed to have come here. Have you seen her?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “Not really. I think I saw her in the great room earlier. I’m sure she’s around somewhere.”

  “Yeah? Good. I’ll go find her.”

  Jerry breathed a sigh of re

lief. Now all he had to do was get Kylie out of his room and upstairs without Banger seeing any of it.

  Banger turned toward the bathroom and took a few steps.

  Oh, shit! “The bathroom’s off-limits,” he blurted.

  “Off-limits? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Toilet’s plugged up.”

  “Did you fill out a work order?”

  “Gonna do that before dinner.”

  “Make sure you do. I’ll leave you to that. See you in an hour.”

  When Jerry shut and locked the door, he rushed over to the bathroom. As he opened the door, Kylie came out. “Damn, that was too close. I’d have died if my dad found me in your room.” She curled her arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss. “I better go. He’ll be looking for me.”

  Jerry unlocked his door, opened it slowly, then popped his head out, looking around to make sure no one was lolling about. Before Kylie left, he hugged her tight and kissed her. She broke away, waved, and shuffled down the hall. He shut the door, resting his forehead against it for a moment, then pulled back. Shirking his T-shirt, he walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He needed a hot one, but he wished Kylie were there so he could soap up her lush body. Thinking of how her skin glistened under the falling water when they’d showered together at the motel, his dick woke up. Shedding the rest of his clothes, he stepped into the steamy water.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  One Thursday night a month, the Insurgents came together at Steelers Bar and Grill to have a few beers, talk about Harleys, and play some pool. It was one of the activities that old ladies were invited to. Club women stayed sequestered behind the walls of the clubhouse. Old ladies and club girls never mixed at any functions. They’d bump into each other sometimes at the clubhouse if an old lady came by to see her man, or if the old ladies were preparing food for one of the family gatherings or a special occasion, but they never acknowledged each other. The club whores knew their place, and they respected the property patch the old ladies wore, secretly wishing they could one day wear that patch themselves.

  Steelers Bar and Grill was a local bar that served great wings, burgers, and roast beef sandwiches. It didn’t start out as a biker bar, but when Moe Hampden inherited it from his dad, he changed things up a bit: hard rock and metal music, Harley memorabilia, waitresses with tight white T-shirts, and the best brews on the east side of town. Bikers began flocking to the place, and soon they outnumbered the citizens.

  Citizens still came by, but by and large, Steelers was known as a biker bar. The citizen women came to ogle the bikers and try to get a ride on one of their powerful bikes, and the citizen men who came around were usually in their twenties who figured the bar attracted hot women. Some were weekend bikers, and in the warm months their Japanese or German bikes would be parked out front, a source of much disdain and criticism from the Insurgents, who were Harley men to the bone.

  On that Thursday, all the old ladies were there and the girlfriends of a few of the Insurgents brothers who didn’t have a property patch. Kylie had often gone to Steelers with her dad before, and that night was no exception. She sat at one of the tables, her white crochet crop top showing off her toned belly, the dangling citrine stone drawing attention to her belly button. Her short jean skirt and four-inch wedge sandals earned many lookovers from the men in the bar—bikers and citizens alike. Every so often, she’d throw her head back and laugh, then glance over in Jerry’s direction.

  He stood by the tall counters against the wall, holding a bottle of Michelob. He couldn’t believe how beautiful and sexy Kylie looked, and his fingers itched to sink into her soft flesh, or tangle around her silky hair. Each time she stole a glance his way, he was waiting for it with lust brimming in his gaze.

  Sidling up to him, Jax leaned over and said in a low voice, “You better fuckin’ cool it, dude. You’re being too obvious with Kylie. It’s only a matter of time before Banger catches on. You don’t want that shit to go down, do you? Especially here. Just chill. There’re other women who are damned hot in here. Don’t set your sights on something you’ll never be able to have forever.”

  Jerry bristled but heeded his friend’s warning for Kylie’s sake. The last thing she needed was for him to make a scene over her—again. He glanced at Banger, who was beaming every time he looked at his very pregnant wife. Banger’s a good guy and a helluva president. Guilt pricked at him as an image of him and Kylie writhing under the sheets flashed in his brain. Banger trusted him to be respectful of his daughter and his wishes, and he’d failed miserably on both counts. But how could he resist his pretty, blonde angel who was so sweet and nasty in bed? How was he ever going to make this work? It seemed no matter what he did, someone was going to get hurt.

  The beer bottle clanked against the counter when he put it down hard, drawing a few glances from the brothers. Kylie smiled at him, but he pretended to be engrossed in a conversation with Jax, Rock, and Throttle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her staring at him, a small pout forming on her lips when he didn’t turn to face her. How he wished he could cover that pout with his mouth and suck on her delicious lips.

  “That one is a beauty. She’s wearing her top real low so we can see her titties. I like what I see.” Rock clapped Jerry on the back as he nodded in the woman’s direction. She sat at the table next to Kylie with two of her friends. “Why don’t we go over there and join them? My cock’s hard just looking at her.”

  Rock was a pretty basic man: he loved his Harley, Cajun food, whiskey, hard rock, beating the shit out of men, and pussy. He wasn’t interested in going the way of some of his brothers. “Commitment” wasn’t a word in his vocabulary, but he was apparently a good lover and always made sure the women enjoyed themselves. Jerry knew the Sergeant-At-Arms was surprised that he was passing on a lot of hotties both in and out of the club, but Kylie was the only one he wanted to be inside. He couldn’t tell that to Rock, so he dodged out early or made lame excuses about why he wasn’t able to randomly fuck like he used to. He and Rock had had great times sharing women, so he knew the big guy was wondering what the fuck was going on with him.

  “Let’s go.” Rock flashed a big smile to the redhead, who kept pulling her top down further. “The blonde with her is just your type. They look like they’ll be fun.”

  Jerry glanced at their table and saw Kylie turning around to see what he and Rock were looking at. When she noticed the women, he knew he’d receive the death glare and, sure enough, she delivered it promptly. He shook his head as if to convey he wasn’t interested in the women.

  “So, you don’t want to? Man, what the fuck’s wrong with you lately?”

  “I got a lot on my mind with the shit about the Skull Crushers, my sister, and the patent I’m trying to get for one of my inventions.” Not to mention I can’t get Kylie outta my mind, no matter how wrong I know it is.

  “That’s why it’s good to fuck. You get rid of all the tension, and you don’t think of nothing but how good you and the bitch are.”

  “You got a point.” That’s why I’m planning a fuckfest with my Kylie after Steelers.

  “So, you in?”

  “Nah.”

  “Okay, brother. It’s your loss. I can handle both, just thought you’d like in on it.” The muscular man sauntered away, and Jerry saw him say a few things to the redhead, who laughed and brushed her hand against his. He was in. Jerry smiled, remembering how fucking had been so much easier just a few short weeks before. No complications. Just in and out. Easy. Fun. Simple. But not Kylie. He feared he’d never get over her. Sighing, he pushed away from the counter and walked down a small hallway to go to the restroom.

  Upon exiting, Kylie lounged against the wood-paneled wall, waiting for him in all her fresh, sexy splendor. “Are you ignoring me?” she asked.

  “Nah. Just been super busy with club shit, that’s all.”

  “I’ve been home for three days, and except for our encounter at the club—which I instigated—I haven’t seen you. I don’t like that.” She paused. “And I don’t like you ogling the women at the table next to me whose tits were on display for any man in the bar.”

  “I wasn’t ogling anyone but you. Shit, Jax had to tell me to tone it down.”

  “You were looking at those women. I saw you.”

  “Rock was talking ‘bout them. He wanted me to go with him to see if they were worth fucking later on. I didn’t want to because the only woman worth fucking is you.” He reached out and trailed his finger from her bottom lip, down her throat, past her collarbone, and straight down her cleavage.

  “If you feel that way, then why have you been avoiding me?”

  “I told you, I had a bunch of club business to do. I want to be with you.” The devil’s gonna pull me to Hell, but I crave her and need to taste her again. “What about you coming to my place later tonight? Can you get away?”

  “Yes. What time?”

  “I’ll come by at eleven o’clock. We should be done here by then. I don’t want you coming over by yourself, not with that fucker fixated on you.”

  “The purple Corvette creep? I doubt he’s in Pinewood. I haven’t seen him in a while. I think he’s moved on. Probably bullying another poor girl. I’ll just come to your apartment on my own.”

  “I’m picking you up, woman. Don’t argue with me. Drive your car around the corner from your house. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay. Crap, my dad’s headed this way.” Kylie moved back from him and began walking down the hall. “Hi, Dad.”

  Banger glanced at Kylie, then at Jerry, who saw a hard glint for a split second before it was gone. “Hi, honey. What’re you two doing?”

  “Talking martial arts. I’ve signed up to take more classes this summer.”

  Jerry noticed Banger’s face relaxed, and he breathed out while Kylie and her father spoke. “Well, I’m gonna head back out. See you.” He brushed past Banger, and when he went past Kylie, his fingertips grazed hers lightly. He went back to his space by the counter, inserting himself in a discussion about bikes.

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