Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

by Snow, Nicole

  Maybe I'd have to move, if it kept him a little closer, and paid me, too. I'd wanted to put down roots in this town because it was all I knew, but it wasn't working out that way.

  Here, the ground was barren.

  Not that I'd be making any fly decisions tonight.

  All the misery of mama, poverty, and the bar hadn't turned me into a fool. We'd just see how well the next few weeks went.

  By the end of them, if he wasn't just playing me – a very huge if – then maybe it'd be time to think about finding somewhere new.

  His fingers pinched my ass, causing me to look up. That mischievous smirk on his lips turned into a hungry one.

  His hand slipped down, pushed between my legs, and pulled them apart like he owned them.

  Tonight, I suppose he did.

  He jerked me up, moved me over him, until I was straddling his cock, already rock hard.

  “Enough fuckin' around with the future, Summertime. We've got the whole damned night ahead, and I'd rather hear you screaming than giving me shit any time. You've got nothing to worry about, long as you're in these arms.”

  One push of his hands on my ass cheeks lowered me on his cock. Then I couldn't think about anything at all except how good, how right, how incredible he felt deep inside me.

  * * *

  The next few weeks should've been a total nightmare. Instead, they'd become a dream.

  All thanks to him. Joker.

  The bastard who'd taken over my head for three long years roared in, wooed me, and conquered my life.

  He came to me every other night since our first beneath the stars. I'd climb on his bike with a grin, feeling my heart skipping a dozen beats per minute. He'd introduce me to half a dozen new secret spots around Seddon I hadn't known before.

  Now, I knew them like his body, intimately acquainted with every single one of them when we were naked and horizontal in the tall grasses, the broken down barns, the little nook next to the stream.

  That last place, he'd held me up in the air the entire time we fucked, banging me into the boulders behind us each time he thrust deep.

  It should've hurt, being flung around like a ragdoll, but of course it didn't.

  Basically, the story of this whole insane romance between us. Assuming you could call motorcycle rides, doe eyes, and hard sex any kind of love story.

  What should've been agony became delight.

  Pain turned into pleasure.

  Risk blossomed from barren fear into a beautiful certainty.

  Forbidden? Impossible?

  All of the above, plus so much more.

  Nothing about us should've worked, especially at this awful crossroads in my life. But it did, damn it.

  We were working, hooking up for more than just a fuck. I truly believed we had more to ourselves than sheet soaking sex.

  He was exactly what I needed when I left mama's place forever, watching as the sheriff and the moving crew from the bank moved in and roped off the place where I'd grown up.

  Joker helped me christen my new apartment the very first night, throwing me down on the mattress between the boxes.

  I sucked his cock on the worn floor, practicing everything he'd taught me. Then he slipped between my legs, fisted my hair, and covered my mouth with his free hand.

  I bit him to keep from screaming, just shy of making my new neighbors hate me on day one.

  Three weeks blurred by in a blissful storm.

  He went back to Knoxville, satisfied he'd finished whatever he'd come here to do with his brother.

  I didn't ask. He didn't tell.

  “Club business,” he'd growl, whenever I got too close to wondering what he did on that bike without me. “We'll talk about anything in the fuckin' world, babe, except for that.”

  I wasn't stupid. I knew he did bad, illegal things because he wore that patch. Busted up bigger bastards than him when they asked for it, and earned his money by the sweat of his mystery.

  Hell, I'd known it from day one, that first kiss we'd shared when I was just a stupid kid.

  Both the Taylor boys were bad news. But to me, he was the best I'd ever gotten, and I wasn't going to let it slip away without giving it a chance.

  Joker kept coming, making the long drive down from eastern Tennessee, usually just for me.

  One weekend, Piece came with him. Both of them were here to handle more of that growl-worthy club business that always put me on edge, however much I tried to pretend it didn't exist.

  I'd just started working at the drugstore in town when he picked me up. Even through the noise and at least forty feet to the lot, I heard his motorcycle.

  Who knew that harsh sound could make a girl smile every damned time?

  Then he was there, in front of me.

  When this man walked into a room, everything came to a screeching stop. Customers and other employees froze and stared, watching him swagger in between the registers, decked out in dark leather covered in his fearsome patches like a modern day knight.

  “Babe, hurry the fuck up and finish your shift,” he growled. “I'm taking you out tonight.”

  I looked at the old woman I'd been ringing up apologetically. Surprisingly, she smiled and shot me a wink, readjusting her glasses. I ran her credit card and scooped her stuff into a plastic bag.

  “My, he's a big one,” she said, looking at my man like a piece of meat.

  Seriously? I blinked, gingerly lifting the bag and passing it into her hands.

  “Get out of here and have some fun, girl,” the granny said with a smile. “Men like this don't come around except once in a blood moon.”

  She was gone. Thankfully, there hadn't been anyone else behind her, so I turned to Joker.

  He'd been giving me that arrogant, hungry look the whole time, the one that pulled at my nipples like an invisible set of clamps. Mercy.

  “Did you hear that?” I asked. “Blood moon? What's she talking about?”

  “Sounded like blue moon to me.” He shrugged. “Fuck if I know, beautiful. Old spinster's too damned smart for her own good. You heard the woman. Punch the fuck out and let's go.”

  Smiling, I sighed and looked over his head, staring at the huge clock mounted on the wall. I had about three more minutes left, but it probably wouldn't hurt to close up a little early.

  We passed a rack of cheap tabloids on the way out, filled with the brain candy everyone reads in waiting rooms. Yes, stories about the royal family renting a spare room to Elvis, or how Martians are behind rigging the next election.

  One of the magazines had a huge red moon on it. That made me stop and stare, scanning it for a second.

  PROPHECY! The headline screamed. Will you survive the next blood moon, or crash and burn?

  So, that was where she'd gotten it. I kept walking, following him out to his bike, inwardly laughing off the creepy coincidence. The old lady had to have seen them on her way out, too, and maybe she'd slipped up when she meant to say “blue moon.” Just like Joker said.

  Out here, the moon hung big and brilliant red in the sky. Even Joker stopped for a second to stare up at it, whistling into the darkness.

  “Fuck me with a bottle. Ain't ever seen a big, red bastard like that hanging in the sky for years. Maybe never.” He turned to me with a wicked smile on his face. “Might be the end of the world tonight, babe. We'd better fuck like rabbits.”

  “Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes, locking my hands tight around his powerful waist, resting my chin on his shoulder so I had a perfect angle to whisper into his ear. “Is that how you celebrate the end? We were going to do that anyway, right?”

  “Damned straight,” he growled, reaching behind us for a second to squeeze my thigh.

  My pulse quickened. Blood moon or not, we were getting into some seriously sexy mischief tonight.

  Yeah. If only things had gone down that way.

  When we took off down the road, I didn't know I was living the last happy moments of my life. It took me a few more weeks to realize how deadly,
ominous, and hungry that evil moon in the sky really was.

  * * *

  “Joker, no! Their lights are on – this place isn't abandoned at all!” Giggling, I flattened my hands on his chest, pushing desperately. “We can't do it here with people around.”

  He'd already buried me underneath him, staring down at me with that feral gleam in his hazel eyes. “Fuck if I care. You can bury your face in my palm again if you want so Farmer Jones don't hear you screaming.”

  I kicked my legs. “I do care – especially if they come out here with a shotgun to kick us out!”

  I didn't have a clue who owned this place. Normally, his judgment was spot on finding secret places for us out in the country.

  Fucking outdoors certainly hadn't lost its charm since I'd gotten my own place. We did it often, whenever the urge took hold while riding through the countryside.

  “Babe, trust me, there ain't gonna be any trouble tonight,” he growled, silencing me with a long, sticky kiss. “Calm your sweet ass down, or I'll pull down those pants and spank the shit outta you 'til you do.”

  I stuck my tongue out. He talked like an animal – and I must've gone insane because it turned me on.

  “Don't fuckin' tempt me, Summertime. You think I'm bluffing?”

  Heavens, no.

  I nodded anyway, pulling back when he tried to bury his lips on mine again.

  Teasing a man like this was playing with fire, yeah, but it was the most exquisite kind of fire a woman could get.

  That did it. I tried not to squeal as he lifted me up, throwing me over his shoulder, just enough to undo my belt and yank down my jeans. I kicked hard, thrashing so he couldn't get them all the way off.

  He loved the bad girl act. So did I.

  Hell, he'd already introduced me to a lot of things I hadn't expected to ever love. The biggest one was staring at me, the bastard himself, giving me a look that said this was way more serious than foreplay.

  “Stop moving or I'll hoist you up right here in the field while we fuck,” he rumbled in my ear, hot and low as summer thunder.

  “No!” I whimpered, shaking my head.

  “Yeah, fuck yeah, baby girl. I don't bullshit, and you know it. Keep wrestling, your pants are gone. I'll spank the shit out of you, fuck you where the bastards in the house can see, and leave your clothes here in the dirt. You can take the bitch seat on my bike completely naked.”

  Oh. My. God.

  I stiffened in his arms. The insane threat lit every nerve I had on fire.

  He couldn't possibly be serious – could he?

  Between the panic, my pussy gushed, lost in the heatwave of anger and filthy desire smashing together.

  His threats scared me, aroused me, and tempted me all at once.

  I was still trying to decide whether to slap his face and see if he'd make good on it when his hand caught the back of my jeans and pulled.

  Cool wind kissed my bare cheeks. His eyebrows shot up. I drank in the surprise on his face and grinned.

  “No fuckin' panties? Shit!”

  “Told you, I'm full of surprises. You haven't gotten me figured out yet, Joker.”

  A low growl began building in his throat. I'd heard it a couple dozen times by now, and I loved it every single time. I braced myself, ready to be thrown down on the ground while he tore at my clothes, hurled into a desperate heat to fuck me senseless.

  But a loud ringing went off next to us.

  I gasped. My heart leaped into my throat, and for a bitter second, I thought we'd really been caught by the people who lived here.

  No, it was something else – his phone. He carefully set me back on the ground. I reached for my pants, pulling them up while he turned his back, staring at the phone he'd jerked from his pocket.

  “What the fuck? Grandpa's number?” Joker muttered. He tapped a key and held it up to his ear. “Grandpa? What's up?”

  I leaned in. There was nothing but static on the other end, a faint crackling that didn't resemble voices.

  White noise. Vague and chilling.

  After another few seconds, he killed the call and redialed. My brow furrowed as I wrapped both my hands around his, listening in, hoping it was nothing so we could get back to the filthy, crazy things we were about to do.

  Somehow, my heart knew it wouldn't be so simple. I had that sinking feeling deep in my stomach. The kind I'd got when mama brushed off her sickness like no big deal, even when she couldn't keep down toast and water.

  “Fuck. We have to go,” Joker said finally, pushing his fingers through mine. “Ain't like him to call when he knows I'm out. Never heard his line acting up like this. Something's up.”

  “Let me come with, Joker,” I said. I'd been itching for a chance to get closer to his family, to test where we were going. “I'll stay outside if anything's up. Promise.”

  Smiling, I crossed my heart. He hesitated for a few seconds, but finally nodded.

  “All right. Let's fuckin' go.”

  We flew down the highway leading back into Seddon. His grandpa had a cozy little house on the outskirts of town.

  Soon, we were parked outside it. A faint light was on in the window. Joker's body hardened underneath my hands when we pulled up, and I saw him looking at his brother's bike, parked next to the old man's truck.

  He killed the engine and we listened quietly to insects droning in the night. Tucking my helmet into the storage compartment, I stood there next to him, eyeballing the mad tension souring his face. He inhaled deeply several times, turning his head.

  “Jackson, what is it?”

  “Smoke. Somebody's been roasting the shit outta something in the fire pit.” He took off toward the small ring of stones at the side of the house.

  I ran after him, putting my arm over my mouth so I wouldn't cough. The stink of something strange and sickly hung in the air. I'd barely noticed it at first, but now that I was closer, it was withering.

  I found him at the firepit's edge, crouched on the ground. He held a long stick in his hand, and the burned tatters of something leathery hung at the end.

  “What is that?” I asked nervously, hesitating to put my hand on his shoulder.

  “Nothing good,” he whispered, squinting at the thing on the stick. “Looks like somebody's fuckin' cut's been burned out here. Can't make out the damned colors...”

  No kidding. The leather vest barely resembled anything now, looking a lot like a skinned animal singed to a crisp. He shook it off and kicked off the grill sitting over the fire, pushing his stick through the ash and debris.

  It looked like there were rocks mixed in with the coals and cloudy ash. Bone white rocks, covered in scorch marks.

  Bone. I trembled.

  No. It couldn't be human...

  “Jackson?” I looked at him intently, clutching his sleeve.

  He pressed a finger against his lips, flashing me a sharp look. My eyes went wide when I saw his free hand pulling his gun from its holster.

  “Quiet, babe. Some serious shit's been going down. You wait here, back behind the tree.” He stopped and pointed to the large trunk several steps away. “Grandpa doesn't go to sleep so fuckin' early, and neither does Piece. Sure as fuck don't come out here to grill after dark, except when Piece is looking for a midnight snack...and the shit in here ain't anybody's dinner. It's too quiet. Too fucked up. Hang tight. I'm goin' in alone. You hear anybody else moving out here, you scream, and I'll come runnin'.”

  I wanted to cry out, but I didn't dare. My heart pulsed frantically in my chest. For the first time since we'd shown up here, I knew we were in real danger, something I wasn't ready to handle.

  I hung back behind the big tree out front, obeying him word for word, my hand on my pocket. First sign of trouble, I'd call the police.

  Depending on the biker code to handle whatever was happening out here wasn't going to do. I couldn't let anybody else get hurt.

  God. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I let the evil possibilities wash over me.

  There'd
been so many rumors about the Deadhands moving into town, the rival motorcycle gang that had eaten up most of Georgia.

  What if they'd found out about Joker and his brother? What if they were here?

  Just relax. Breathe, I told myself.

  Up in the sky, the big moon glowed, still holding a little of its blood red tinge from the eclipse earlier this evening.

  The first gunshot exploded inside the house a second later.

  I jumped at the sound, hugging the tree for support. Two more loud bangs echoed through the night, one after another.

  My fingers shook as I pulled out my phone, desperately trying to get it up to my face, so I could dial.

  The last few drops of blood in my body that weren't already glacial became ice when I saw the dark, lifeless screen.

  “Shit!” I cursed myself, remembering that it'd been low on charge at work. I'd fucking forgotten to plug it in.

  Stuffing it back into my pocket, I peaked around the tree, staring at the house. If there was any sane way out of this, I'd find it inside, however hellish it might be.

  I had to move. I had to find him.

  Walking into the house made me feel disembodied. I hadn't had that sensation since mama's funeral, the one where it seems like a woman's soul is going to leave her body forever, and there's nothing she can do about it.

  The screen door creaked loudly in my hands, making me silently curse the whole evil situation one more time. As soon as I was in, I heard...a slapping sound?

  Someone banged on something soft. Like the way I remembered mama slapping bread dough.

  “Joker?” I whispered, creeping around the corner.

  There wasn't much to the place. Just two tiny rooms, a kitchen, and a main living area.

  Someone had left a blanket and several empty beer bottles on the floor, next to the couch. I carefully avoided tripping on them and pressed forward, perking my ears up again, listening for anything.

  I heard him when I was near the first little room. Joker's voice sputtering in a harsh whisper.

  Desperate. Horrified. Enraged.

  “Grandpa, come on. Come on. Come the fuck on!”

  Fingers trembling, I gripped the edge of the door, and pushed it open.