by Madison Faye
“And I’m so glad you’re mine, Daddy.”
The End
About Kelly Dawson
Kelly Dawson loves anything to do with horses, rodeos and cowboys, and loves to get lost in a good book—preferably a rural romance where a strong woman falls in love with a ruggedly-handsome, tough but gentle cowboy—and these are the types of characters who most often feature in the stories she writes.
You can keep up with Kelly Dawson via her newsletter, her blog, and her Goodreads profile, using the following links:
https://mailchi.mp/1090989a5397/kelly-dawsons-newsletter-sign-up
http://www.kellydawsonauthor.com/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13257528.Kelly_Dawson
Biker Daddy Gunner by Kara Kelley
Chapter One
“Layla fucked up,” Fitz said, bursting through the door of the Last Resort Bar and Grill like a crazed, angry bull. “She made the Skull Grinders think she was my old lady.”
“Jesus! She’s always getting her ass in hot water.” Trevor’s gut clenched, but he forced it to relax and continued filling the snack bowls with pretzels. A couple of members from the Skull Grinders, a one percenter motorcycle club, had been hanging around the last few days and Layla had been noticeably interested, shaking her ass and flirting. The Grinders were bad news, Fitz’s old club, but Layla had made it abundantly clear she wasn’t his and she didn’t want his advice, protection, or care.
Except in his heart, she damn well was his. His heart never got the messages from his brain when it came to Layla. Trevor gathered a breath. It was time he let her go. Sure, their love had seemed like it was rare and worth fighting for, but it had been over seven years. Six bad years outranked one perfect one, right?
“No, Trevor, it’s bad. I’ve been hiding from them for years and they want revenge for me leaving. My father’s the president and he has plans for me. But first he’ll want to teach me a lesson. They’ve got her and Brent. They’re going to… hurt them to hurt me.” Trevor’s eyes shot to Fitz’s, making him stop explaining. Fitz’s face was pale, his chest rising and falling in heaving motions. Trevor grabbed his cell, keys, and helmet from behind the counter and jumped over the bar.
No, one perfect year was definitely worth six bad. His heart pounded. He couldn’t lose her. Goddammit, not his baby bunny.
The quiet little town of Fell had been shook up by the media breaking news about Fitz’s former life with the Skull Grinders and the two murders he’d done time for in a youth offender facility, but even more so over the scandal that one of their own, a world famous painter, Ray Moore, who had recently died, wasn’t the real artist—Fitz was.
There was an uproar over the scandal and a lot of residents of Fell were against Fitz, but Trevor wasn’t one of them. Trevor knew biker life. He was a member of the local MC, The Iron Code, which wasn’t a one percenter club, but they mingled with other clubs at biker functions. The Iron Code also toed the line occasionally if they felt justice needed to be served and the law’s hands were tied. Fitz was a good man, a friend, one he trusted with his life.
Trevor was on his Harley ready to roll when he messaged to Loki, the president of The Iron Code.
“Layla and her boy have been taken by the Skull Grinders. Heading to their clubhouse with the lone wolf.” The Iron Code referred to Fitz as the lone wolf since he was a biker but wasn’t affiliated with an MC. They didn’t know he was once in the Skull Grinders. They wanted him though. Fitz had restored Loki’s bike, which was once his father’s and made it look and ride like new. Loki had been eager for him to become a prospect ever since.
If Trevor waited and went to Loki, he’d have the backing of his MC, and he didn’t know much about the Skull Grinders but he knew The Iron Code and there weren’t many motorcycle clubs that would take them on, let alone win. They not only outnumbered the Skull Grinders but their members were far more skilled, most having been in the military and law enforcement. But Trevor didn’t have time to sit through church, which is what Loki would want. He was a man who liked going into every situation with a plan and a few backups.
“There’s something else, Trev,” Fitz said gravely, his mouth a flat line and his eyes serious. Trevor shoved his cell in his jacket and paused before putting his helmet on. The look on Fitz’s face made his stomach roll.
“He’s yours.”
“Mine?” He was pretty sure he understood, but needed it spelled out. “What are you fucking telling me, Fitz?” His voice, although angry, was a front for the fear he felt on the inside. Had Layla hidden the fact that he’d had a son all these years?
“Layla wanted me to tell you Brent’s yours and if anything happens…” Trevor didn’t let Fitz finish. He jammed his helmet on, started his bike, and revved the engine until Fitz got the hint and started his. Throwing gravel as they sped out of the lot, they headed for the Skull Grinders MC.
First, Trevor would save Layla, then he’d spank her ass, then he’d damn well make her his for good!
* * *
Seven years ago…
Standing at the makeshift bar in the house his brother, Greg, shared with three other guys through university, Trevor zeroed in on a girl that stood out amongst the rest. She was one of those innocent-looking strawberry blondes with no makeup, freckles, and the glow of all that life could offer on her face. His heart flipped right there. He’d never believed in things like love at first sight, but in that moment, he changed his mind.
He’d only stopped by after a long haul run to Atlanta to congratulate his little brother on his graduation. He’d planned on staying no more than ten minutes, favoring instead a hot shower, a steak, and his bed. Only now, the pretty sweet thing was eyeing him back and dammit if he wasn’t sunk when she smiled at him.
“Hey, I’m Layla,” she said, after walking over and leaning up against the breakfast bar loaded with alcohol, snacks, and red plastic cups.
“Trevor,” he answered, turning to face her. He had the urge to kiss her right there. She smelled like watermelon bubble gum. “Greg’s my baby brother.” He pointed his beer cup toward his brother. She nodded.
“I felt you staring at me. Like this pull in my gut,” she said. His brows rose a little and she smirked. “Okay, I’m lying. My friends told me there was a hot guy checking me out.” He chuckled and shook his head, but she nudged him in fun. “You believed me, didn’t you?”
“Only because that’s how I felt when I saw you.”
She cocked her head, examining his face, which held a serious expression.
“You did?” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re just trying to get me back.”
“Nope. I was going to go home until I saw you.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, waving her hands and sounding excited. It was goddamned adorable! She shifted to face him then too. Placing her hands on his forearms, she giggled. “I want you to know I am not this kind of girl, so don’t go expecting to get in my pants, okay? This experiment is for science.” He nodded at her fake solemnity and she continued. “There’s only one way to tell.”
“Tell what?” he asked, cocking one brow and wondering if he looked as smitten as he felt.
“If we’re like soulmates or something.”
“Soulmates?” He grinned in skepticism. “Seriously?”
“Hey now, you’re the one that brought up ‘gut pull.’” Her fists went to her hips.
“You’re right, Layla, I did. Please continue.” She was the one that brought it up, but she was too damn cute to argue with. And before he’d even finished his thought, the honey-haired beauty was kissing him.
Swept away, his hands found her hair and entwined in it so he could pull her closer and taste more of her. His heart was flipping like a gymnast in his chest and he felt dizzy with the need to consume more of this woman. When she ended their kiss, he was more than a bit stunned. Holyfuckingshit. They were soulmates. And damn if watermelon wasn’t his new favorite flavor.
He stared at her, stunned by his ab
sofuckinglutely ridiculous thought. He wasn’t a teen girl, for fuck’s sake. He was a twenty-seven-year-old man! A man’s man! A big rig driver, soon to be balls-to-nutsack with a bunch of newbies in military boot camp. And yet here he was, his six-foot-two frame teetering from having kissed a woman he hadn’t known for more than five minutes.
Layla put a finger to her chin, looked up, and hummed. He couldn’t hear the humming as the music was loud, but he could tell. Her eyes finally slid back to his and she bit her lip, which was puffy from their kiss. His stomach tightened. The flush on her cheeks made her even more appealing.
“Nope. Nothing.” She sighed, tossing her hands up in defeat and Trevor’s jaw dropped.
“Uh, nothing?” he stammered, furrowing his brow and then swallowing hard. She smirked and he couldn’t help it; his hand clapped off her bottom, making his palm buzz.
“Oh!” she blurted, clasping her bottom cheek. “You caught me, huh?”
Trevor gave her a firm look and crossed his arms. “Layla, you know what happens when you fudge the results of a serious scientific experiment—in human trials—don’t you?”
She frowned. “I know, I know. It’s a serious offense.” She shook her head, looking at her feet, which he suddenly noticed were bare and had the prettiest pale pink polish on them. “I should be ashamed of myself.” She looked up swiftly then, her lip caught between her teeth again until she spoke. “You won’t report me, will you?” Her hands were back on his forearms and the feel of them made his gut fall and rise as if he were riding his Harley way too fast in the mountains.
“I don’t know. How will you learn your lesson if there are no consequences?” While his face remained serious, she broke out in a huge grin—one that made his gut dance like a little-fucking-girl’s.
“Well, you could spank me again.”
And that was it, no two ways about it, he was in love. This girl, who he knew almost zilch about, was his.
Up she went over his shoulder and he carried her off to a room upstairs. She squealed in the most adorable way but didn’t protest at all.
“This one looks good,” he said, looking at the bed and setting her on her feet. “Lock the door.”
She obeyed, but suddenly looked nervous with her hand up to her mouth and her teeth nibbling her short pink fingernails.
“Relax, honey. I’m not going to do anything but spank you.” He sat on the bed and patted his lap. Her hand dropped and she was once again chewing her damn lip, but she came to him.
“Over you go, you little cheat.” He took her hand and helped her over his knee. She yelped, but he held her tight as her legs dangled, her toes barely touching the floor.
“I’ll never do it again, Trevor.” Her voice shook a little and it made him smile. He rubbed her jean-clad bottom and felt her relax a little.
“You won’t, Layla, because I’m going to keep my eye on you.” She looked over her shoulder at him and grinned.
“I’d like that, Trevor.”
He winked. “We’ll see, baby, we’ll see.”
He gave her ten sharp spanks on the seat of her tight jeans and then pulled her up to sit on his lap.
“That’s all?” she asked, blinking innocently.
“That’s it for this infraction. Why? Did you need a little more heat on that bottom, Layla?”
She gave him a quick flash of a smile and shrugged, her hair tumbling across her shoulders.
“Well, I wore these cute panties and was rather excited to show them off.” She blushed and leaned against his chest.
“That so? Do you often wear cute panties and then offer to show them to strangers at parties?”
“No, you’re not a stranger. You’re my soulmate, remember?”
Trevor smiled back. He was sure it was a goofy smile, but he didn’t care. He’d found his perfect girl.
“All right then, let’s see them. I’m going to have to spank you for being so forward though.”
She giggled, undid her jeans, and leaned across his knee again. The panties were the same pink as her toes, and Brazilian style, not quite a thong but left her cheeks bare. Across the cotton top they read ‘Sweet’ and was it ever! Her cheeks were plump and smooth and when he gave a tentative slap they wobbled in a way that made his throat dry.
“Hmm? If you keep spanking me like that, Trevor, I’ll misbehave again and again.”
“You’re a little sassy pants, Layla.”
She looked over her shoulder at him and grinned. “I know, Daddy.”
The word ‘daddy,’ so taboo, sent a jolt of electric arousal straight to his groin. “Say it again,” he demanded, feeling a fire inside he’d never felt before.
“I’m a naughty girl, Daddy. I deserve a hard spanking.”
Trevor swore he could hear his own heart pounding over the rumbling bass coming from below.
“And little girl, Daddy is going to give you just that.”
His swat bit harder into her slightly pink cheek and she kicked a pretty foot up.
“Owie!”
He swatted again in the same place, wanting to see it blush deeper. He switched sides after a few good ones and made her cheeks match. Her little hollers of alarm made him harder and he continued spanking her until she reached back.
“Has my naughty girl had enough?”
Layla blew out and slumped over his knee. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll be good. You spank hard!”
“Baby, you’ll learn to behave with Daddy around, won’t you?”
Her head bobbed and he pulled her up, tucking her into his chest. She snuggled in and ran her hand across his chest.
“Daddy?”
“Layla girl?”
“You may have started something here.” She pointed at her lap and took that bee-stung lip into her mouth again.
“Hmm, did I now? A fire perhaps?”
A nod was her only reply.
“Well, young lady, I think Daddy should take his baby out on a few dates before he starts putting out the fires he starts, yeah?”
She smirked. “How about now? I’m starving!”
Chapter Two
He had told her that first night that he was going to keep an eye on her and he’d meant it. He would be leaving for boot camp soon and he needed her to be safe while he was away. And it wasn’t long before Layla learned his expectations too.
One night, Layla had gone out with her friends, wanting to blow off steam after exams. The only problem was their designated driver wasn’t sober by the end of the night. She could have called him, but she hadn’t. She’d gotten into the car with her drunk friend behind the wheel. He knew she’d sobered quickly after they hit a telephone pole because while her friends decided to drive still, she got out and said she’d walk home. She’d hit her head, but otherwise was fine. Even the thought of it now burned his gut. His baby bunny could have been badly hurt in that accident and then walking alone at one in the morning when she was tipsy and had hit her head? Again, she could have called him.
Layla ended up at the bar his brother just opened, Last Resort Bar and Grill. Trevor had helped him make the down payment and so had The Iron Code, a local motorcycle club where Trevor’s best friend was the president, so it was essentially half owned by a motorcycle club.
She’d finally texted him. “Daddy, I’m in trouble. Can you come get me?” She didn’t normally call him Daddy unless they were playing around. It still made him hot, but then she told him her story. He wasn’t hot at the thought of putting her over his knee then at all; he was determined. He’d gotten on his bike right away to go get her, but he didn’t plan on taking her back to her dorm. That girl needed a lesson and he planned on giving it to her.
She was sitting alone in the corner of the bar. Her hair was mussed and she had a small bruise on her forehead. His brother, who was behind the bar eyeing Layla intensely, looked over suddenly and gave him a small wave.
“Layla, are you okay?” He rushed to her and looked at her head. She looked teary as she nodded.
&nbs
p; “It’s just a teeny bump on my head. We didn’t hit the pole very hard. I was stupid, Daddy, but I’m fine.”
He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face so he could look her in the eyes. “Yes, baby bunny, you were, but Daddy’s here and he’s going to make sure you never do something like that again.”
Layla swallowed hard, her eyes filling further with tears. “Are you going to spank me? Like for real?”
He released her chin and set his hands on his hips. “You should have called me,” he said with steely determination. “I would have come for you right away. In fact, didn’t I tell you that before you went?”
“Yeah.” Her brow furrowed.
“So why the hell didn’t you call?”
“I didn’t want you to see me drunk. You’d told me not to drink too much.” Her cheeks flushed and she lowered her face.
His brows rose. “So you’d rather get into a car with an inebriated driver than have me see you drunk? To have me lecture you?”
“Daddy, I’m sorry! I admitted it was dumb, now can we go?” She glanced over his shoulder, making him look too. Greg was staring at them, a mixture of amused and something else, something almost feral on his face. He shook his head. He was too angry to care what his brother heard.
“Get up!” He grabbed her arm, not roughly but firmly, and helped her up. “Move!” She shuffled forward past him and he clapped his palm hard off her ass. “Faster, young lady.” The pouty look she shot him over her shoulder made his gut dip, but he held firm to his tight, hard expression. He loved her, loved her more than life and that’s why he was going to spank her ass hard!
She clung to him tighter than usual as they rode to his place on his Harley. He didn’t need to hear her over the roar of the bike to know she was crying. He felt her shaking against his back. He wanted to pull over and comfort her but it was important she learn her lesson first. Then he’d hold his baby bunny and make everything better again.
