by Jayne Blue
This was not going to happen. This was never going to happen.
He would star in my fantasies, this moment burned into my memory, but this was not my life.
I turned and walked out of the office. My heels hitting the floor, each step more Bess, more in control, more focused on getting Henry from my dick of an ex-husband. That was all that mattered. Not fucking around with a biker, no matter how hot he was.
My almost hot sex encounter was six months ago.
Still, late at night, when I am restless, when dreams remind me that of what I really need, when need awakens me, there is one word on my lips.
Sawyer.
Sawyer
“Behind you!” Larry yelled at me just in time so I turned and swung. It was dark but my fist landed on solid jawbone. It slowed the asshole down but it did not stop him.
The thug shook his head and pointed his gun at my head.
“Well, shit - you’re hard to knock down.” Just as I made that pronouncement, he collapsed in front of me.
“His head’s soft in the back.” Larry had smashed the back of his piece on the thug’s skull.
“Good night,” I looked down. I had broken into the office of the storage unit complex to grab what information I could on the owners. There was not much to find. It had been cleaned out, more or less, since the last time I had been here.
“Where are the rest of the guys?” I had brought a small army of Grand City Great Wolves M.C. members. We were here to make a statement and clean up whatever we found.
“They’re at the end row of units.” Larry was the secretary of the M.C. He had a little belly these days, and refused to quit smoking, but he was gnarly biker from long hair to black boots. We just never found a name tough enough for him. So, Larry stayed Larry, and he stayed on my right hand wherever club business sent me.
“This office has been scrubbed.” I was hoping to find something to help root out a new bad element in my town. No luck.
“What about this guy,” Larry gave him a kick to the ribs.
“Leave him.” I did not want to kill anyone if we didn’t have to today. That was coming I feared.
Larry and I followed the sounds of the rest of the dozen or so of our crew. We busted into a storage unit facility near the docks of Grand City. It looked like any other storage unit business.
Except I knew The Russian Mob had been creeping into my town and they owned the place. I wanted to make things very uncomfortable for them to expand here.
All my officers had come on this run.
Hagen was my second in command, my VP.
He took a bullet to save my predecessor. It was a wasted bullet. The last Prez died anyway. Hagen and I were not very close, but I keep him in the job because I needed legacy members. I needed insight into this charter. He was the lone no vote when we had put this operation to a vote.
Sometimes I think he would vote against me no matter what I proposed. He didn’t like change and I was all about change.
“You were right,” was what he said to me as I approached. This was big and surprising. The longhaired hard ass didn’t like to admit I was right about anything.
“What did the boys find?”
“Better see for yourself.”
The rest of the GWMC officers were quietly standing in an open storage unit. The rest of the crew were busting the locks on every storage unit in the place. It was going to take some time.
I walked into the open unit processes what I was seeing. Six cots were lined up. Each cot had a chain attached. This storage unit was for people. That was easy to see.
“This is some sick shit.” Ridge was my severe and suspicious treasurer.
“Very.” It was also what I was worried about. The Russian Mob had decided Grand City was a great place to set up shop.
“So they run drugs? They fix fights? And what is this, whores?” Steel, the sergeant at arms for GWMC ran his fingers up and down his beard.
“Not whores,” I answered. My suspicions were much worse than a little prostitution.
“Prez! Come over here!” Ryder and Stone, two of the younger members of the M.C., were a few units down.
I left Steel and Hagen with the chains and cots only to find something more sickening.
“I found this.” He held out something pink in his hand. I took it.
It was a doll. A toy.
“And this,” Stone was dark and menacing to Ryder’s almost surfer good humor, lifted up a stuffed kitten.
“Jesus Christ.”
“What the hell’s going on here?” Ryder in some ways reminded me of me. He got into the M.C. because he wanted freedom, but he was learning with brotherhood comes responsibility. It was no surf party USA.
Whether I wanted the responsibility or not my club was going to have to do something about the shit we just found. Eventually, this was going to cause us, and our town, major trouble. Hell, the Russians already had caused trouble at the MMA gym the MC ran.
“What do you want us to do?” Larry had found me again. He never was too far away. A good trait in a brother.
“We’re opening every storage unit. We make sure there’s no one trapped here. If you find any dolls or personal items, round ‘em up. We’ll keep ‘em.”
“Then what?”
“Burn it down.”
I didn’t leave room for argument if that was the best course of action.
These shit boxes were coming down and the evil assholes that were using them would get the message.
Get out of Grand City or the Great Wolves will throw you out.
Hours later, the crew and I were back at The Wolf Den.
It was the GWMC clubhouse but also a working bar. One of our profitable legitimate ventures. Along with the Great Wolves Gym, and Great Wolves Security.
We no longer ran guns, drugs, or prostitution. The businesses were how we made bank these days.
We were about as clean as you could get for a crew who had just set fire to five buildings.
I looked around. The bar was full of black balloons. Black confetti. Black hats.
It was my goddamn birthday.
“You look much older than forty,” Larry said and laughed his ass off. He was enjoying the hell out of my discomfort.
The party did have another purpose. It was a good alibi if anyone asked questions about our earlier activities of the evening.
Though I didn’t think it was likely. The Russians didn’t want cops involved, I was pretty damn sure.
“Thanks, asshole. No sunscreen. A cautionary tale.”
“Cleaning up an M.C. also interferes with your beauty sleep.” Ridge, our treasurer, was not kidding. The last year had been a dramatic shift for this club. It was what I was sent here to do. It was working; all the Grand City operations were pulling in pretty big money. Still I had a lot of shit to deal with.
Music started thumping and the hooting and hollering factor went up a notch. The source of the noise was clear. My birthday present had walked in wearing two tassels and a g-string.
She had blonde hair down to her waist and legs up to her neck. There were also two very talented breasts that did not seem bound by the natural laws of physics.
“Bite it, Sawyer!” Larry was laughing his ass off. He knew I hated this shit. But the girl they hired didn’t need me to humiliate her by acting as if I didn’t appreciate the considerable effort she was putting into giving me a hard on.
She slid on my lap and I did my best to be sure she didn’t fall the fuck off as she leaned back, forth, and all over.
A tassel nearly poked my eye out. She did her seductive best to give the club their money’s worth. As the song finished, she climbed off my lap and got the tassels going in unison. Several of the club members looked as though they might be hypnotized.
I toyed with the idea of trying to plant some suggestions in their brains, quack like a duck or, you hate cigarettes, in Larry’s case. She had them so transfixed I thought it could work.
Mercifully, the song finished and
I hoped my personal dance. This birthday could not be over soon enough. If I were twenty, this would be my bag. I was not twenty.
I stood up but the performance was not quite over.
The stripper slid up to me and pressed her flesh to my leather. She strained up to kiss me. I allowed it. It was not bad. It was not good either.
I had a lot on my mind but I gave her a smile. It was not her fault that I had no interest.
“Did you like my dance?”
“Sure honey, take this.” I gave her five-hundred bucks.
“You know they already paid me?” Her eyes were wide.
“You earned extra.”
“Do you want me to…?” I stopped her with my finger to her lips.
“You do not have to do anything else. Victor?” I called for our newest probie. Victor was the best bodyguard in the business. His English was sketchy but his morals were sound.
“Yes, Prez.”
“Make sure, uh, what’s your name?”
“Amber.”
“Ah, make sure Amber here has a nice night and gets home safely. Got it?”
“Yes, Prez.”
“She’s the boss the rest of tonight. Have a good time honey. Victor’s your insurance policy around here if any of my guys gets out of hand.” She didn’t really have anything to worry about with GWMC members, but still. Many ugly stories start with a stripper walking into a bar.
I walked over to the bar. Dusty, our tough as nails bartender, slid a beer my way. She probably weighed a buck-twenty if that.
“I told them it was a dumbass present.” She was the cutest little tough chick. She had to be around this place.
Dusty’s dad was the old Prez. She didn’t seem to hold it against me. He had been about war, territory, and hanging on to the old way of doing things. He had paid with a bullet in his head from a rival club, The Devil’s Hawks. That’s the story I got anyway.
It all went down before I got to town. It was one of the reasons they sent me. To stop an all-out war. To clean up, help the club go legit, just as we had done in Cali. The Green Bluff Great Wolves were the model of civic respectability. Grand City was well on its way to the same place.
Somehow, Dusty had been on my side from the beginning. Growing up in here maybe, she had seen the price of profit the old way.
“Yeah? What did you suggest for my birthday?”
“You need new leather.” She pointed to the fraying cuff on my Great Wolves jacket.
“I like the lived-in look.” She laughed. She was a damn good bartender. She also held her own in this place, which was not easy.
Every biker in the club had hit on her at one point or another. Her dad had kept them away, now I took on the job. I had seen her throw a punch. She knew what she was doing. She also kept a tight lock on bar tabs and the staff.
She kept the bar running lean and tight.
“Watch the bar a second? I need to grab two bottles from the store room.”
“No problem kid.”
I looked around. It had been a wild year for me as Grand City’s Prez. Between the Great Wolves MMA Gym and The Wolf Den, I hadn’t slept much.
Or gotten to ride much.
Bikers are supposed to have a life on the road? Anarchy and shit right? Except when you are at the head of the table.
These men, their old ladies, our businesses, it was all on my shoulders.
Larry was taking a keen interest in Amber, so was Ryder.
I saw Stone in the corner, alone, he caught my eye. I indicated toward Larry and Ryder. He got me. If they turned idiot later, Stone would handle it.
I was tired and I was ready to be done for the night. Lately, there’d been a hole in my heart and I knew why.
The only woman I wanted to press up against me was nowhere to be found. She’d sped out of my life in fifth gear. I still couldn’t get her out of my mind. I may be forty but the thought of her made me feel sixteen.
She was gorgeous for sure. But it wasn’t that. It was everything else about her that lingered in my mind.
It dawned on me that today’s dark discovery could have one silver lining.
I was pretty sure I had a reason to see her. A legitimate one. Yes, that would be an excellent birthday present. Seeing her, touching her, smelling that hair. See? I’m a teenager when I think of her.
When I think of Bess.
Books by Jayne Blue
If you like, Stone don’t miss all Great Wolves Motorcycle Club books. The series kicks off with Dex!
**Each Great Wolves M.C. book is interconnected but can be read as a standalone.*
WLUV Series – Romance is always the top story in this Sexy Newsroom! (All three are FREE in Kindle Unlimited)
Ignited - WLUV 1– Passion ignites as between a billionaire owner of WLUV and the one woman he can’t control.
Consumed – WLUV 2 - The youngest reporter at WLUV is consumed with desire when she’s paired with a possessive war photographer.
Burned – WLUV 3 – Burned once by love the gorgeous ice queen anchor vowed to never let it happen again, a vow she’s about to break.
MMA Romance
Hold Series (Book 1 is Free!)
Ride Series
Torrid Trilogy – A steamy romantic suspense trilogy with a billionaire, secrets, and forbidden love.
Book 1 (FREE!)
The Owned Series - You’ve never met a call girl like Nina Sharpe! (Free to Kindle Unlimited subscribers.)
Looking for a hot-tempered brood of hot brothers? Look no further than the McCall Brothers Series (You’ll learn how Lincoln and Leslie got together. It’s a wild one.)
If you like rugged ultra-possessive alpha males, you’ll love the McCall Brothers.
The series kicks off with Lincoln McCall – he gets paid to watch and not touch, but his patience has run out.
UK Readers
Australian Readers
Canadian Readers
German Readers
Before You Go
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Thank you so much for reading and connecting with me.
I’ve included some samples of some of the books connected to Sawyer. Sawyer is a standalone but a lot of the people in his story have love stories of their own. Take a look!
Love you,
Jayne Blue
JayneBlue.com
Fall in Love with MMA Romance….
Excerpt from Hold Trilogy
Cassidy
What do you wear to work when you’re a receptionist at an MMA gym? At the restaurant it was easy, when she bussed tables it was black pants and a t-shirt, and then they gave her a polyester dress to wear after she got promoted to waitress. But now? It’s not like there were many choices. The studio had a small closet and her entire “wardrobe” hung inside along with her coat.
She did a quick inventory: A couple of pairs of jeans, turtlenecks, a sweater, a dress, and so few pairs of shoes. She could pack her entire closet into one suitcase. The few nice things she had were hand-me-downs. Again she owed Bess. Bess was taller by several inches, but she’d cleaned out her “work” closet and handed the extra clothes to Cassidy. That’s why she even owned a skirt. There was also one dress that Bess insisted on, it was the “little black” dress she wore when she graduated high school and only Bess attended.
She decided jeans it was if Whitey wanted her to dress nicer he’d tell her. Maybe it was time for a trip to Goodwill for some stuff? Wearing different clothes was an expense she didn’t want to deal with and hadn’t realized she’d face until this very moment.
It would be a cold walk, but the gym was hot so she went with belted jeans, a blouse, her boots and the duster under her coat. Whitey didn’t seem to be one to worry about that sort of thing so she hoped it was okay.
Wardrobe handled she rifled through her kitchen, which was really a sink, a mini-stove, and a small fridge. Saving money also meant skipping meals. She’d lost weight in the two weeks since the restaurant closed since she could usually get some free food at that job. Today she had a packet of cup-a-soup and an apple. Free food was definitely something she’d taken for granted after it was gone. She filled a water bottle and figured she was set for the day.
The GWG was a ten-minute walk. In the daytime, this was no big deal. At night, well, she wouldn’t tell Bess that one.
Whitey greeted her when she arrived.
“Good morning girlie,” he said with his gravelly voice as he assessed her desk area.
“Is eight too late?” She worried since it looked like things were well underway in the gym. Fighters dotted several areas already.
“I always get in at 5 to open. You can help me by getting in at 8 and staying later than I do to close. I could get home in time to make Mrs. Whitey happy for a change.”
“Okay.”
“So here’s the job, most days I’m too busy to tell you what to do. Today I will. After this, you figure it out most of the time.”
“Got it.”
“You set these computers up and then these files,” Whitey indicated a file cabinet that was as tall as she was, “They need to be uh, dig ah, digee? What’s the word?”
“Digitized?”
“Yep, that paperless thing the GWG bosses want. You’re going to make sure the members’ cards get swiped. That’s new, the cards, and you’ll make sure they’re paid up, handle their forms, answer phones, help get the word out on events and just deal with GWG corporate. My grandson was doing a bunch of this stuff, but he’s got to focus on training. That’s him over there.” Whitey pointed to a short, stocky fighter rapidly hitting a punching bag.
