WOUNDED SOULS MC
HIS SWEETNESS
LEAH SHARELLE
Copyright © 2018 Leah Sharelle
His Sweetness (Wounded Souls MC Series – Book 1)
By Leah Sharelle
All Rights Reserved.
Edited by: Colleen Snibson, Copy Editor
Edited by: Rogena Mitchell-Jones, Literary Editor
Photography: Christy Van Elsen, Chic Professional Photography
Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations
Models: Katrina Leckie and Daniel Walkingshaw
This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the properties of the author, and your support and respect are appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
This author writes in both American English and Australian English and may include Australian diction.
This book is dedicated to my friend, pen pal, and fellow Levine lady Julie Pfeiffer. I am so grateful you are my Secret Santa. It is my pleasure to name one of my characters after you. We will meet one day in Vegas, and what an epic day that will be!
And don’t worry—I will keep the Tim Tams coming.
And to my handsome truck-driving friend with the bluest eyes, you inspired Deck in my mind.
xo
Copy that!
Contents
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Prologue
DECK
“Come on, baby, you can do this.” My brother’s voice pushed me into action.
How fucked up was this situation? My soon to be born baby’s mother was my brother’s wife. My baby will be his niece and stepdaughter. My ex was my sister-in-law. Fuck me. This is crazy. Rolling my eyes, I inched closer in towards Zoe, ignoring my brother’s low growl of annoyance.
“Alright, Zoe Poe, let’s get this show moving. I’ve got shit to do.” I didn’t really mean it because there was no place I would rather be than there at the birth of my first child, but the situation was a soap opera in the making. The whole pregnancy had been a lesson in who you should fuck and should not fuck. Fucking Zoe that night had been both a blessing and a curse. The blessing being the baby about to be born—if Zoe would just cooperate—and the curse being my brother marrying my pregnant baby mama. When we hooked up, Zoe and I knew we were just a fling. There were never any real feelings between us, and once she met my brother, I knew what they felt for each other was real. So when they got together, I was more than happy for them, but when Zoe ended up pregnant, and the dates matched up with our times together? Yeah, it’s fucked, but what’s fucking new? I asked myself as the doctor hunkered down at the end of the bed and got ready to deliver my baby.
1
DECK
I straightened, trying to work the kinks out of my back.
I was tired, bone tired, but it was a good feeling. Hard work was something I wasn’t afraid of. My whole life had been hard work, physical and mental. As I looked over the building site, I felt pride for what I saw. The three-story mansion was coming together.
Sure, the architect was an arsehole to deal with, but the building and the quality was all my team and me. Looking at my watch, I cursed at the time. Fuck, there weren’t enough hours in the day.
“Darth!” I called across the building site to the six-foot-six mammoth of a man.
“Yo, brother.”
“Taking off now. Picking up Squirt.”
Receiving a chin lift in response, I took off for my truck, wishing like hell it was my Harley because the wind at my back would have felt fucking awesome. Time enough for that later, I told myself as I went off in the direction of town.
It wasn’t a long drive to the kindergarten where my little girl went. Along the way, I planned the rest of the build in my head and thought about the party that was going to happen at the compound that night.
Plenty of chicks were going to be there, and I definitely needed some relief. My dick was feeling neglected. Taking one hand off the steering wheel, I rubbed my dick through my work pants. Yep, I needed to get laid—sucked off at the very least.
All thoughts of my hard dick left my mind as I pulled into a park at a colourfully painted building. Mine was the only car.
“Fuccckkk.” I groaned out loud as I quickly checked my watch, then frowned when I saw I was actually on time.
“What in the fuck?” I growled as I jumped out of my vehicle and stomped towards the front door. I had a funny feeling I’d fucked up somehow.
Making quick work of entering the security code on the large heavy front door, I made my way to the day care room.
The sight that greeted me nearly brought me to my knees.
My raven-haired mini-me sat on a tiny plastic chair, crocodile tears streaming down her chubby cheeks.
“Shiloh,” I instinctually called softly. My daughter always softened my rough edges.
“Daddy,” she cried out in her cute as shit pixie voice. Her tiny little body moved lightning quick, and she launched herself at me. Barely having enough time, I wrapped my arms around my little girl, holding her tightly to my chest. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the scent of strawberries—her favourite bubble bath she insisted on using every time she bathed.
This was my happy place—my baby’s tiny arms wrapped around my neck, holding me like a lifeline.
“Hey, Squirt, calm down for Daddy, okay?”
“You are goddamn late, Daddy.” She hiccupped, tears clogging her voice. Her face pressed into my neck.
I squeezed my eyes closed tighter, trying to fight off the laughter threatening to erupt.
“I’m sorry, baby. Daddy was busy, and I forgot.” I was aware I forgot something, but I just wasn’t sure what.
“Jesus, Daddy. I’s did tell you ’bout it at brekkie,” Shiloh scolded me. Her cursing was a problem, but I figured I had a little time before she started school to put a stop to it. At three, Shiloh was the ultimate biker princess. From the top of her curly raven hair to her size two shitkickers. There was never more of a daddy’s girl than my Shiloh.
Smiling indulgently, I feigned surprise.
“You did?”
“Yep.”
“Are you sure you didn’t tell Booth instead of me, Squirt?”
Shiloh looked at me with narrowed eyes. Eyes the colour of the darkest blue sapphire. Eyes that mirrored my own.
“Nope, I
bloody told you, Daddy.”
I was just about to open my mouth to continue the fun argument when a delicate cough interrupted me.
“Hello. I take it you are Shiloh’s father?”
Shifting Shiloh to my hip, I turned around with the intention of saying no shit when my eyes collided with… fucking perfection!
That was the only way to describe the beauty standing in front of me. Her blonde hair was halfway down her back and straight as straight. The colour was better than blonde and had to be natural—there was no way it came out of a bottle. My eyes scanned the flawless skin of her face and collided with crystal green orbs. Her heart-shaped face had a light coating of makeup, but her beauty was all natural.
“Um, yeah, that’s me,” I stammered like a seventeen-year-old virgin boy.
The smile she gifted me nearly brought me to my knees for the second time in only minutes. Get a grip you, stupid wanker! Seriously, anyone would think you have never been in the presence of a woman. But, oh God, what a glorious specimen.
“Deck, Shiloh’s dad. And you are?”
“Charlotte Jackson. I run the day care side. I also teach Shiloh dancing two days a week.”
I heard the words, even comprehended them on some level, but her voice made me hard, and being hard and having Shiloh in my arms was not a great father moment. But fuck, Charlotte was stunning! Her neck was long and graceful, and her skin was like porcelain. Her beauty was classic in every sense of the word. And I wanted her. More than my next breath.
I cleared my throat of the giant frog that had taken up residence and attempted to sound like the functioning adult I knew I was. Fuck, I was a goddamned decorated former soldier and ex-special ops weapons specialist, for Christ’s sake! Having a conversation with a woman should be a walk in the fucking park!
“Well, thanks, Charlie. There was obviously a miscommunication this morning. I appreciate you staying around with her.” Looking around I spotted my daughter’s bright pink backpack. I reached for it, but Charlie beat me to it.
As she held it up for me to take, our fingers brushed at the exchange. A spark of electricity flew through my fingers and up my arm, bypassing the rest of my body and going straight to my cock. Fuck, yeah, I needed to get laid!
“Of course. I adore Shiloh. She is my favourite, though I know I shouldn’t have favourites,” she replied shyly as a cute-as-fuck pink shade covered her perfect cheeks.
I wonder what her naked body would look like covered in that pink blush after I worship her with my tongue and cock? The thought came out of nowhere. I had to get out of there. Now!
“Well, Shiloh’s beautiful teacher Charlie, I should get going.”
“Umm…sure, yes, of course, umm…yes, sure,” Charlie stammered, causing me to smirk. I noticed she was just as affected as I was as I watched her chest heave ever so slightly, causing her breasts to push against the silky blouse she wore. It was the same colour as her pink cheeks. Sweet. All sweetness and good.
Shiloh took that moment to remind me of her presence by placing her tiny little hands on my cheeks to get my attention.
“Daddy, we go, we go now. I wants to ride my Harley!” she declared in that cute-as-fuck voice.
“Harley?” Charlie asked her eyebrows raised in question.
I let out a slight chuckle. “Yeah, to her, it’s a Harley. To everyone else, it’s a battery-driven four-wheeled kid’s bike. Hot pink no less.”
Chuckling, Charlie nodded her head in understanding. “Ah, of course. Miss Shiloh, I will see you tomorrow. And don’t forget your tutu. We are dancing Cinderella tomorrow.”
I watched with amusement as Shiloh gave her teacher a chin lift.
“You betcha.” Shiloh’s answer caused yet another epic, beautiful smile to grace Charlie’s face. Damn, she was stunning.
“Alright, then. Let’s go, Squirt.”
As I walked out of the day care room carrying Shiloh, I felt Charlie following closely at my back. Going through the same process at the door with the security pin pad, I opened the door. “Well, thanks again, Sweetness. See ya tomorrow.”
Walking down the path, I turned when I heard her calling out to me.
‘“Sweetness?” The look on her face told me she wasn’t displeased with the endearment.
Grinning, I saluted her without actually answering. I wanted to have more conversations with her… so many more.
“Bye, Shiloh,” Charlie called again.
My little girl waved madly as I buckled her into her hot pink and purple car seat, which resembled a living-room chair more than a car seat. It had cup holders and a table for her to draw on and to play with her dolls, toy cars, and bikes. The bloody thing was fucking huge!
Fucking Darth.
Every time he was assigned a shopping trip for Shiloh, he came back with something no other kid had. My girl was spoilt, and I didn’t give two shits about it. Her entry into this world had been fucking tough, so I wasn’t going to let the rest of her life be anything but easy. That was what I’d vowed the moment I held her and as I watched the life of my baby’s mother float away as she died in the delivery room.
“Bye, Sweetness,” Shiloh sang out, wrenching me from my daydream.
“Smarty-pants,” I muttered as I checked her harness one last time. Darth had not only given her the NASCAR version of a child car seat, but he’d also had it altered so instead of a regular belt system, it had a professional four-point racing harness. Giving Shiloh a kiss on her forehead, I closed the door, effectively cutting off her next remark about getting a bloody move on.
Strutting around the front of the truck, I chanced another look at the beautiful Charlie. The slight breeze was playing with her straight blonde tresses. I had to go, really had to go. So, with one last smile, I got in the truck and went about starting it up. My girl wanted to ride her Harley, and Miss Charlie, aka Sweetness, would still be there tomorrow.
————
The unmistakable flashing lights of a cop car displayed prominently in my rear-view mirror.
“What the fuck?”
As I pulled the car to the side of the road, I kept one eye trained on the mirror, recognising the officer pulling me over.
“Prick,” I muttered. I powered down my window and waited as the arsehole took his sweet time getting to me. I wasn’t in the mood for this shit today. I wanted to keep the good feelings from my meeting with Charlie in my mind, but now I knew they were about to be replaced with the fucking crap of the town’s biggest dickhead copper.
“Deck.”
“Jason,” I replied in the same bored monotone used by the officer.
Sapphire blue eyes, like the ones Shiloh and I shared, stared back at me. Here we go, I thought with resignation. The staring match was part of the masquerade of being pulled over. I hadn’t broken any laws, and he knew I never did, but the prick kept pulling me over once a day just to piss me off. The only difference was Shiloh was with me today and awake. I was about to ask what the fuck when I heard the back window power down.
“Unca Jay, Unca Jay, we needs to go now. I’s wants to ride my bloody Harley.”
I nearly laughed out loud when Jason realised his niece was in the back, and judging by the red stain on his cheeks, he knew he was totally caught being a dick.
“Hey, there, Shy-shy, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can talk to your daddy another day, okay?”
“Okays, Unca Jay. Go, Daddy, go!” Her anxious squeal made my prick brother and me laugh.
I put my truck back into drive and looked at my brother.
“See ya, prick,” I said. As I powered up my window, I caught my brother’s smirk and one-finger salute.
“Bye-byes, prick,” Shiloh said in a sing-song voice as she too powered up her window. This time, I did laugh aloud. My laugh filled the truck cab as I watched my brother standing on the side of the road with a shocked look on his face.
Again, I didn’t have two fucks to give. My baby girl was my clone, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
2
DECK
After leaving my dickhead brother behind, Shiloh and I spent the rest of the drive singing ‘Midnight Rider’ by the Allman Brothers. Well, I sang most of it while my baby girl sang about not letting them catch the midnight rider. Jason didn’t like that his niece sang so-called biker songs instead of songs about bananas running around in fucking pyjamas. God knew I’d tried at first to sing that shit to her when she was tiny, but with ten ex-soldiers turned bikers around to help raise her—well, that shit flew out the window pretty quick. My girl loved the hard shit with some classic rock thrown in for good measure.
“Shiloh, stay in your seat until I stop the car.” My scold came out harsher than I’d intended, but she was developing a bad habit, and unlike her cursing—which didn’t really bother me all that much yet—this was something I had to knock on the head, pronto!
“Buts, Daddy, my Harley.” Damn, my girl was fucking cute. Do not smile, Deck. Do not smile, I repeated to myself as I turned around to see the big blue eyes so much like mine filling with tears. Ignore them. Stay on mission.
“Shiloh, you have to wait until I stop the car, okay? If you get hurt, baby girl, Daddy will never be happy ever again. Do you want Daddy to be sad?” Yeah, and I just grew a fucking vagina. Throwing open my door, I cursed myself as I walked around to unbuckle Shiloh so she could finally go ride the pink hog she coveted more than anything in the world—well, that and her black shitkickers.
Leaning in, I peppered her cheek with kisses, making her giggle.
Then her little hands were on my cheeks, holding me still, her expression serious. “Me’s don’t want you to be sad, Daddy. I’s sowwy.” Gracing my nose with a wet slobbery kiss, my beautiful baby girl broke the spell with her next comment. “Don’t be a pussy, Daddy. Now move. I’s gots to go!”
Releasing my child from the truck, I could only watch in shock as she took off as fast as her little legs could carry her, her tiny little hand raised above her head in a one-finger salute.
“Fuck me,” I muttered as I took off after her. Maybe it was time to find a better babysitter than fucking Darth.
HIS SWEETNESS (WOUNDED SOULS Book 1) Page 1
