Dangerous Affiliations (Knights of War MC Book 1)

by Alyssa Breck

  “I know, baby.” He got up and came around to where she stood. “We’ll get this handled and get your shit replaced. We just don’t want a war with them, and we want you safe.”

  Without pretense, she wrapped her arms around him. His chest was warm against her cheek. “Thank you.”

  He rubbed his hand over her back. “For what?”

  “I don’t think I’d be alive if it weren’t for you and Hem.” She looked up at him. “I can’t describe how I felt walking into my house. Had I been alone …”

  Hunter trailed his thumb along the line of her jaw. “You’re not alone. Like I told you before, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He lowered his mouth to kiss her. “I’ve been thinking about this every night you’ve been here.”

  “Me, too,” she replied and tangled her fingers into his hair.

  Holly pushed his cut off his shoulders, and he let it fall to the floor. His T-shirt was next.

  Heat pooled between her legs, and her want quickly turned into a need. “I kind of like being your captive.”

  He smiled. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here, but I can’t let you leave.”

  “Don’t tell me I can’t leave, Hunter.” Holly traced her fingertip over the skull tattoo on his chest. “Make me want to stay.”

  He yanked her shirt over her head, pulled her skirt up over her hips, and lifted her off her feet. “I think I can do that.”

  With one hand, he held her against him while he planted his knees on the bed. The buckle on his belt was cold against her stomach. He gently laid her on her back and slipped her panties down her legs. “Damn. You’re gorgeous.”

  “So are you.” Holly reached up to touch his cheek. “Take me,” she whispered.

  Hunter was all hard muscle and scars and tattoos, and she knew he could hurt her. A part of her wanted him to, but she knew he wouldn’t. He wasn’t wired that way. Hunter wasn’t like the man who was supposed to set the standard for all men in her life.

  The coarse hair of his beard scratched her breasts as he moved his head lower to suck and nibble her nipple. He kneaded her other breast with rough hands. Not rough in mannerism but rough as in callused from hard work.

  Holly moaned and grabbed a handful of his hair as he slid a hand between her thighs. He rubbed one finger along her mound, barely opening her folds and grazing her clit. The tease was almost unbearable. She lifted her hips to try and gain the intimate contact she craved.

  “You’re so impatient,” he whispered, moving up and kissing her neck. He pushed one finger inside her and used his thumb to press down on her clit. “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes. Yes.” She panted and lifted her legs while he slowly fingered her and layered kisses over her collarbone and chin.

  Every nerve in her body was on fire as her stomach muscles tightened, then her pussy contracted hard. He wiggled his finger inside her and added a second one. He stretched her and stroked a spot inside her. Her body shook.

  “Oh, my God. God. Yes.” Whatever he was doing sent her spiraling, and she screamed when the release came.

  He kissed her and stifled the sounds she made. She moaned into his mouth, and he pulled his fingers out.

  Hunter lifted up and smiled. “You’ve got a set of lungs on you.”

  She laughed. “I’m not a screamer. That’s your fault.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He reached into the drawer beside the bed and ripped open the condom wrapper while Holly unbuckled his belt. His jeans slid down over his hips.

  Holly leaned forward and kissed his stomach. The muscles in his abdomen flexed, and she trailed her fingers over the ripples. She gripped his cock in her fist and slid her hand up and down slowly. He stared down at her and licked his lips. She licked hers, too. When she took him into her mouth, his eyelids lowered, and he put his hand on the top of her head.

  To steady herself, she got on her knees and put one hand on his thigh. His lips parted as she moved her head slowly in tandem with her hand.

  “Fuck.” Hunter reached down and moved her hair from the cheek. “Your mouth is like a sin.”

  She scratched her nails on his leg and moved a little faster. Drool dripped from her bottom lip. Hunter groaned and grabbed her hair, pulling her away. “I want to be inside you when I come.”

  The open condom package had landed beside his knee. Holly pulled it out and rolled it over his cock. Hunter pushed her back on the bed.

  She flipped over and got on her hands and knees. “Like this.”

  “Whatever you want, baby.” He loomed over her from behind and kissed the middle of her back.

  The bed creaked when he positioned himself between her legs. His cock pressed hot and hard at her entrance. With a firm grip of her shoulder, he slid into her.

  “Mmm.” She put one palm on the wooden headboard. The blanket was soft against her nipples as her body moved back and forth with the motion of his hips.

  Like last time, he started slow and deliberate, giving her a chance to acclimate to his size. In that position, he went deeper or at least it felt that way.

  “You’re so hot inside.” The timbre of his voice went from smooth to gravel, and he reached around to grip her breast.

  “Feels so good,” she purred. “Harder.”

  Without hesitation, he complied and slammed into her.

  “God.” Holly moaned, and her toes curled. That familiar ache built up again. “I’m going to come. Make me come.”

  Hunter moved his hand from her breast and trailed down over her stomach until his finger circled her clit. “You like that?”

  “Mhmm.”

  He continued to pump into her with long, hard strokes.

  Between his cock and his finger, the orgasm hit her like a chemical reaction. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Her pussy contracted on his dick.

  “God damn,” he whispered. “I’m right there, too.” Hunter moved his hand from her clit to her hip. The grip he had on her would probably leave a mark that she’d feel and see later.

  “Yes, yes,” she cried.

  They were both still trembling when he pulled out and rolled her to her side to lay beside him. He planted a kiss on the back of her neck. “Did that make you want to stay?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  Chapter FOURTEEN

  Hunter

  Kyle Melner was a small man, but no one underestimated him because of his height. He was yoked out from spending his days lifting weights and doing pushups. His head was shaved and covered in tattoos. Prison tattoos. Pockmarks scarred his ruddy skin. His appearance was menacing, but that wasn’t what really made him dangerous. They say that some people are soulless, and you can see it in their eyes. Kyle’s eyes were the color of dead seaweed. If he did have a soul, he lacked a conscience for sure.

  Hunter hadn’t relished the idea of calling Holly’s dad for the money the Irish Sons wanted, and he had a sick feeling that her father wouldn’t really care that her life might be on the line. After a promise he wouldn’t lose his cool, Paul had given Hunter the okay to meet with Kyle on his own and broker the deal.

  “I heard you have a proposition for me,” Kyle said. The chain between his cuffed wrists clanked against the metal table in the meeting area.

  “Yeah. It’s about the hit you put on my old lady.”

  “What you got?” Kyle asked.

  “You want two hundred fifty grand to even this score. What if I could guarantee that the authorities can’t touch Holly?”

  “How would you swing that?” Kyle scratched his nose.

  “She’s a reporter. If she writes a piece on what Bobby told her, leaving out the incriminating shit, of course, she could claim reporter’s privilege, and they can’t make her talk. Not about anything he told her beyond confessions he made about stuff he did. That shit doesn’t matter now since he’s dead.”

  Kyle nodded.

  “Also, I have these.” Hunter set a stack of papers on the table between them.

  �
�What’s this?”

  “The letters your lieutenant mailed to her.” Hunter tapped the pile. “There’s a lot of shit in here. Bobby spilled his fucking guts.”

  Kyle chewed the inside of his lip. “I wish I could have shiv’d that little bitch myself.”

  “Here’s my proposal. Holly writes a simple story with just enough information to claim the reporter privilege, I hand these letters over to you and give you your money back for the Russian meth bomb. In exchange, you rescind the two hundred fifty grand bounty and take Holly off your hit list. And you give me your personal guarantee for her safety.”

  “Let me think for a second.” Kyle stared past Hunter’s shoulder. A personal guarantee was a big deal. That meant that if someone went after Holly once they had a deal, Kyle would be killed slow and ugly. The Knights had people on the inside. People with nothing to lose.

  Hunter would be happy to give that order if it came down to it. He got up and walked to the vending machine in the corner of the room. Overpriced candy bars and snack-sized bags of chips sat in neat rows behind the glass.

  The want to strangle Kyle was still there because of the pain he had caused Holly already. But Hunter needed to tamp it down for her sake. Popping off would just fuck up the deal.

  A woman with a baby on her lap and tears in her eyes looked at Hunter as he passed her. There was no way in hell he’d ever have his old lady visit him in prison and bring their kid. That was fucked up. Hunter returned to the table without buying anything.

  “I can do this deal,” Kyle said. “You know who to return the money to.” He put his hand on the stack of letters. “Did you make copies of this shit?”

  “No. Copies wouldn’t hold water anyway. They can’t be authenticated.” Even the original letters couldn’t be authenticated because Bobby Quinn was currently rotting in a Dallas cemetery. Hunter guessed that Kyle didn’t realize the letters were no good without Bobby’s testimony. But they could still stir up some shit; point the feds in the right direction to find the closets that kept the skeletons a secret.

  “Good.” Kyle stood. “I’ll get the info out in the next couple days. You know how it is from inside. It can take some time.”

  Hunter didn’t know. He’d never been locked up, but he agreed anyway. “Sure, do, man. Take it easy.”

  The prison was a twenty-minute ride from the clubhouse. Hunter climbed onto the Crossbones and drove out the gates.

  Holly

  Holly sat at the bar with Hem’s laptop. Her editor had approved the story on the white supremacists. She wasn’t entirely clear on the connection between the Knights of War and the Irish Sons, but she had to respect the confidentiality of the club. Just like the police would have to respect her confidentiality of sources. She was using the legal system to protect a criminal enterprise to save her own ass. From personal experience, she knew that sometimes secrets were best left buried anyway. Maybe over time, both she and Hunter would trust enough to lay themselves bare. For now, what they had was good enough.

  Condensation dripped off the glass of water next to her hand. She took a sip. Paul sat at the end of the bar talking to Hunter. She was vaguely aware of the content of their conversation. A big pipeline job had come up, and they’d be leaving for South Texas in a couple of days. Hem had arranged to have a contractor at her house tomorrow, and the day after that the story would run in the paper. Then she could go home with a gentlemen’s agreement protecting her life. A blood contract.

  Paul’s phone rang, and he walked into the chapel and shut the door.

  Hunter leaned in behind her and moved her hair from her shoulder. He planted a kiss on her neck. “All done?”

  “Yes. I just sent the article in. Grant will review it tomorrow, and it should run on Saturday.”

  “Good.” He spun her stool around, so she was facing him. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay,” she said. “How long will you be gone?”

  “A week. But you can call me anytime. You know that, right?”

  Holly nodded. “I know. I guess I’m just a little nervous still.”

  “I get that. Sin will be here at the shop if there’s an emergency.”

  “Okay. I’m probably overreacting.”

  “No. You’re not. You’ve had a lot going on the last couple of weeks. But I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and I stand by that.”

  She put her hand on his chest and ran her finger over the Sgt. at Arms patch on his cut. “I know.”

  Hunter pulled her hand up to kiss her knuckles. “I think it’s time I took you for a ride on my bike.”

  She laughed. “You make it sound like a rite of passage.”

  “I don’t let just anyone sit on my bike, baby.” He grinned.

  “I need my jacket.”

  “Go get it and meet me outside.” He kissed her cheek.

  She closed the laptop and slipped off the barstool. The clubhouse had been home for her, and the thought of leaving was bittersweet. The closet in Hunter’s bedroom was half-full of boxes and pairs of boots that had seen better days. Her leather jacket hung beside a white button-down shirt that looked unworn. She shrugged the coat on and walked back through the clubhouse. A weird feeling of loss struck her at the sight of the empty corner where the pinball machine had been. Her life had changed so much in such a short period of time. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined being in a place like that with people like them. Good people.

  The parking lot was half empty. Most of the members were out on a job in Fort Worth. The cute brunette in the front office waved at Holly through the window. She was going to miss it there.

  Hunter stood beside his bike with a helmet in hand. He wore his usual uniform; white T-shirt with his cut over it, jeans that sat low on his hips and black boots. He handed the helmet to her. “This should fit you.”

  “Thanks.” She fingered the buckle on the strap and looked up at him. “What happens when I go home?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  She waved her hand around. “This whole old lady charade to fool the Irish Sons. How do we keep that up? Or does it not matter now?”

  He pulled her against him and tipped her chin up. “It was never a charade for me. What do you think? You want to try being my old lady for real?”

  Holly pulled the helmet onto her head. “I think I’d like that.”

  Chapter FIFTEEN

  Holly

  Holly smoothed her yellow dress and walked into her office. Framed degrees from the University of Texas were spaced evenly apart on the wall above her desk. She’d thrown herself into college coursework the summer after she graduated high school. First, she earned an associate’s degree in liberal arts followed by a bachelor’s in creative writing. Now, at twenty-four, she was graduating with her master’s in journalism.

  The green graduation cap and tassel sat in a pile on her printer. She was a ball of nervous excitement and already thinking about what she might want to study next. Perhaps a Ph.D. in sociology or teaching credentials.

  Her mother had called two days ago to tell her that both of her parents would be attending the ceremony in Denton. Holly looked forward to seeing her mother. Her father? Not so much. But he’d bankrolled her education, so she guessed he had a right to show up.

  Hunter emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair dripping. He gave her a killer smile. “You look hot as fuck. Too bad we have to be somewhere in a half hour.”

  Holly laughed and grabbed the cap and tassel. “You can have your way with me after graduation.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  A white shirt and dress pants hung on the hook beside her closet. His black leather cut was draped over her bed. She stared at the tattoos on his back while he toweled off and pulled on a pair of boxers and a white T-shirt.

  “You don’t have to dress up if you don’t want to,” she said, buckling the strap on her high heeled shoes.

  Hunter looked
over his shoulder while he shrugged into the dress shirt. “Today is important to you.”

  “My parents will be there.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m sure they’ll love me.” He smirked and tucked the shirt into the black pants.

  Holly knew they wouldn’t approve. Her mother had dreams of Holly married to a lawyer or doctor and spending winters in Aspen and her father … she didn’t really know what he hoped for her. But he was an arrogant bastard, so he’d likely look down his nose at Hunter.

  She opened the closet to remove her graduation gown. “Doesn’t matter what they think.”

  Hunter

  Holly was dashing in her cap and gown. Black and white ropes hung over her shoulders. She was smart. Too smart to be with someone like him. Hunter pulled at the collar of the dress shirt. He hated dressing up, but this was a big deal. It wasn’t every day that someone he cared for graduated from college.

  The caps of the graduates looked like a green checkerboard from where he sat in the auditorium. Hunter preferred sitting close to the doors, so he was in the back row of seats. Holly’s parents hadn’t arrived by the time she was called to go take her seat down front.

  The flowers he’d bought rested on his lap. People in fancy clothes carrying metallic helium balloons and lavishly wrapped presents filled the room until all the seats were taken. He tried to guess which ones were her parents. Rich people seemed to all look alike. Men in expensive suits and silk ties. Women with perfect hair and giant diamond rings.

  The lights were dimmed, and a man wearing a black and white gown crossed the stage and adjusted the mic at the podium. “Welcome, family and friends.”

  The door creaked open behind Hunter, and he looked back. Hem and Kol crept inside and stood behind him. The brothers had worn nice buttoned shirts but layered their cuts on top. Hem held a bouquet of yellow roses and a small gift box.

  Hunter smiled. Holly would be happy they showed up. The man at the front went on and on about the importance of education and the value of hard work until finally, he started calling out names.