Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Cool unfriendliness shadowed his eyes. “You’ve been hiding in here for a while.”

  “I’m not hiding,” she blurted, surprising herself and raising her chin. “Especially from you.”

  A slow smile drew her attention to his full lips.

  She’d wanted to taste his lips the first night with him and she still wanted to taste them. Noticing where her gaze rested, the sensuality in his smile crept into his eyes. Flames of desire licked at her, aided by her memories.

  He scraped his fingers though her hair. “You want another kiss?”

  Yes, she wanted a…it hit her where he wanted to kiss her. Not on the mouth. Liquid heat rushed to her pussy and her nipples hardened. She opened her mouth to tell him no. He’d expect her to suck his cock and…no. Just no.

  His hand slipped into her yoga pants. Her lack of panties gave him easy access and he took full advantage, teasing her clit, once, twice, three times.

  Her breath hitched in the back of her throat and her belly clenched.

  He nuzzled her neck, one hand tweaking her nipple and the other still caressing her pussy. A whimper escaped her, pleasure bursting through her being.

  He slipped one finger, two fingers, into her and she tensed, waiting for the third, expecting the pain and afraid of it. Lifting her up, he settled her onto the counter and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants.

  “Raise up.”

  Though her body screamed for his touch, her mind rebelled. “Stop. I can’t. I can’t return oral sex.” Her hand rubbed her throat. “So, no. You can’t kiss my pussy. You can kiss my mouth, though.”

  He paused, the touch of his fingertips following the perusal of his eyes. Wherever he focused, he caressed until he had her face cradled between his hands.

  “Did Spoon hurt you?”

  More than she could ever express. Unable to look him in the eye and lie, she turned her head away. “No.”

  Johnnie’s erection throbbed against Kendall’s thigh and another burst of desire shot through her.

  “Did Logan?”

  Yes. “No.”

  He tugged at her ear. “I don’t recall asking you to suck my dick, Kendall,” he whispered. “If you decided to do it that would be a non-refundable bonus.” He nipped her neck, traveled down to her breast and pushed aside her bra, covering the hard, hurting tip with his mouth and tugging.

  Kendall slipped her fingers through the silk of his hair. “Johnnie,” she gasped.

  He moved up, gliding his tongue over the sensitive skin of her throat and slipping his hands into the waistband of her pants. “Lift. Up.”

  A plethora of emotions curled through her, but she did as he ordered. Not because she had to but because she wanted to. Cool air hit her overheated skin as he pulled her shoes and socks off then removed her pants. He dropped to his knees and shouldered her legs apart, leaving her exposed and bare.

  His mouth covered her core, opening her pussy lips and tonguing her clit in a circle pattern. Spoon had managed to make this dirty and humiliating, using it to exert control and power.

  Not the case now. The pure pleasure Johnnie gave to her made it hard to dwell upon Spoon’s degradation. The thought flitted through her head then exploded into exquisite sensation.

  Leaning back, Kendall rested against the mirror, her feet dangling halfway from the edge of the counter. She rocked against his mouth, clutching his hair, grinding against the soft pad of his tongue until he brought her over the edge and her orgasm crashed through her. She shuddered and screamed, groaning at the feel of his lips kissing the inside of her thigh.

  When her trembles ceased, he stood to his full height and deftly avoided her mouth by dropping his head to her shoulder and drawing in a deep breath. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her a moment before pulling away. His erection pressed against his zipper, but instead of forcing himself inside of her, he bent and picked up her yoga pants. He held them out to her, his eyes dark with need. A need he intended to ignore…?

  She took her pants and hopped to her feet. “That’s it?” she asked with trepidation, not sure why she concerned herself with his erection. She should be relieved he’d do something else with it. She wasn’t. “That’s all?”

  Amusement gleamed in his eyes and heat rushed to her face. “You came, didn’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Then, yes, gorgeous. That’s it.”

  “You’re still hard.”

  His lips split into a wide grin. “You don’t say.”

  The crickets returned to her head. No response came to her, so she dressed in silence, aware of his scrutiny, her flush deepening. He wouldn’t look away. He stood there as if he owned the world. Owned her.

  Once she’d put herself back together, he sauntered to the door and pulled it open, leaning against it. “After you, Kendall.”

  She refused to challenge him with a gaze but she didn’t want to go. He’d pleasured her, ignored his own needs, and swore she could trust him. “Who said I was ready to leave?”

  “Me,” he answered calmly. “Now, come with me. I need to discuss something with you.”

  Losing her defiant pose, she licked her lips. “Wh-what?”

  Instead of answering, he indicated the main room with a nod of his head, silently directing her to move.

  For some reason the thought of Spoon—or maybe the word spoon—brought to mind ice cream. Butter Pecan or Birthday Cake or Phish Food by Ben and Jerry’s. Instead of voicing her craving, she marched passed Johnnie and headed for a bar stool.

  Her driver’s license laid out on the bar caught her attention. “What…you went through my things?”

  “If you had nothing to hide, you wouldn’t care.”

  Irritation slipped past her apathy and fear. “That’s not true!” she flared. “A woman’s purse is off limits! It’s completely personal.” She stood up to head for the door and her car, but he stepped in front of her and boxed her in.

  “Sorry, gorgeous. I’m afraid you and I will be going for a ride, so you can tell me all about what the fuck Spoon has you doing here.”

  Kendall’s heart raced at Johnnie’s hard comment. “What—“

  “Don’t,” he warned through clenched teeth, a muscle pulsing. “Do you think we would take you on with just a letter of recommendation? You could’ve had that printed in somebody’s garage.”

  “Of course not!” she cried. “I thought you’d call up and check my references. That’s very easy to do.”

  “So’s running background checks,” Mortician called. “We find out all kinds of shit that way.”

  “We have less than a week before Outlaw returns,” Johnnie started. “I refuse to have him walking in on bullshit, so you’re going to tell me what the fuck’s going on or suffer the consequences.”

  Other people might consider the matters in her life trivial. But the problems one faced was relative to the life they lived. Her troubles might’ve been insignificant in the great scheme of things, but to her and her life, it was huge. He had to believe that she was on top of the world. Not scared shitless of him, his grandfather, Spoon…men. “Nothing’s going on,” Kendall insisted. “Please believe me.”

  He closed the distance between them and leaned down, startling her when his lips brushed her hairline.

  No, she was responding and cringed at the thought that she wanted to respond. Just because. It was so hard to reconcile this man with the man in her head. That was the man she was responding to.

  “What are you doing here, Kendall?” he murmured, his voice the sexiest she’d ever heard. “How do you know my grandfather?”

  “He’s already told you.”

  Suspicion clear on his face, he narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “Too fucking bad I don’t believe him.”

  She swiveled her stool and got to her feet, snatching her purse without thinking and then sweeping everything into it. “As if what you believe matters to me,” she retorted. “You’re his grandson. No doubt you’re just like him
. You know him better than anyone, so what do you have to say about that?”

  “Not a fucking thing,” he snarled. “Logan’s a grown fucking man. No one can change him. Least of all me.”

  “Because you don’t want to! Your loyalty is to him, so damn everyone else.”

  He snatched her arm and jerked her around to face him. Kendall’s heart dropped and she released her purse to shield her face with her hands. It took her a moment to realize Johnnie was staring at her with barely leashed anger. Behind the bar, Mortician dried glasses and lined them on the bar, his attention divided between her and his task.

  She waited for Johnnie to harm her.

  He reached for her and pulled her into his arms, shocking her. She buried her nose against his neck and shuddered, almost sagging against him. But she couldn’t do it because she couldn’t trust him. Instead, she stood ramrod straight in his embrace.

  “If you’re in trouble, we can help you,” he swore with enough conviction to get the biggest cynic to believe him. “I can help you. You have to tell me. Why do you seem so fragile?”

  Because she was. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  He pulled away from her. “Fine, Kendall. Know this if you’re on a nefarious mission for Spoon, you’ll be sorry.”

  “Earlier it seemed as if you had no problem with Spoon.”

  He knuckled her lips. “Spoon was fine, then. But discovering your bullshit background—“

  “I don’t have a bullshit background. I am an attorney.”

  “Who’s on a leave-of-absence for whatever reason.”

  “You discovered that in a background check?”

  “Nope, we discovered that by calling Brooks Redding.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You did what?” she asked on a strangled gasp.

  “What’s the Logan connection?” he asked in a hard voice.

  “You know why—“

  “Bullshit. I haven’t seen him in ten years and I wouldn’t have given a fuck if I never saw him again in this life or the next.”

  Whatever game Johnnie was playing, she wouldn’t be caught. Spoon had people everywhere. And Spoon knew what Logan was doing. To her, it was insane to think an outsider would know such a vile secret and his own grandson wouldn’t. Despite the rumbling softness of his words, she wouldn’t fall prey to them. “You aren’t giving me a job and you don’t trust me. There’s no reason for me to remain.”

  His lips thinned but he released her. “I’m giving you a chance to tell your story. That opportunity is fast disappearing. You walk out that fucking door without telling me the truth and I discover something I don’t like…” His voice trailed off and the threat hovered between them.

  If she walked out that door, then it’d be another epic fail on her part with catastrophic consequences. But what other choice did she have? Without a word, she turned on her heels and started for the door when his voice halted her.

  “Kendall?”

  “Yes?”

  “May I call you?”

  He wanted to call her? A few weeks ago, she would’ve jumped at the chance. Now? Never.

  Instead of responding, she did what worked best for her lately—she ran.

  Kendall rolled out of bed, tired but more lucid than she’d been yesterday. She’d almost succumbed to the urge to drug herself. But Spoon had called, horrible as ever, and asked what had taken place at the club, then encouraged her to medicate herself.

  Still on a high from her unproductive but post-orgasmic time with Johnnie, she’d rebelled and decided to not listen to Spoon. She had to start facing her grief and shock at some point. Lifting her head, Kendall squinted at the digital clock on the nightstand. 10:08AM. Already running late. She had to get a move on. After approaching Spoon’s men to allow her to run an errand, she didn’t want them to change their reptilian minds. They would in a heartbeat, too, even though they’d already made her pay three hundred dollars to each of them.

  With all that, she knew she was still risking their betrayal, but what choice did she have?

  Though her business remained unknown to them, they allotted her three hours.

  Ignoring the nausea overtaking her for the second day in a row, Kendall rushed through dressing herself. Once outside, she waved to her two babysitters, got into her car and sped off.

  An hour later, Kendall sat in the small room in a hospital gown, concentrating on the transducer sliding across her gelled belly. She wanted to look anywhere but at the screen where the technician was following up the test that had confirmed Kendall’s pregnancy with an ultrasound to establish the gestational age of the fetus. As if she didn’t know when it had happened.

  That didn’t matter, though. Before she swallowed the abortion pills, the clinic needed to cover their asses. Hence, the confirmation of when she’d helped create this life.

  She thought back to that night. It replayed in her head so often, she could pick out every nuance of what had taken place. Whether it was reality was another story. She gave herself a mental shrug. Who cared? One reality was Johnnie’s choice of songs. With Arms Wide Arm. Ironic he’d chosen that the night he’d made her a mother-to-be. Given her her Baby Biker. Which she’d come to destroy.

  Yesterday, when Johnnie had held that little boy, all Kendall pictured was their baby in his strong arms, his big hands cradling a delicate little head.

  The stilling of the technician’s hand broke into Kendall’s musings. She closed her eyes, grateful the torture was coming to an end.

  Then, a worse occurrence. The girl slid a row of knobs and turned on the sound.

  Whirring noises from blood flow that could very well have been Baby Biker’s heartbeat.

  She twisted away and drew in a deep breath, a moment away from clapping her hands over her ears. But the sound resounded in her head.

  Bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

  The technician turned a frown to her. “Are you all right, Ms. Miller?”

  No. No. She needed to tell Johnnie. Not only about the baby, either. She needed to tell him everything.

  Not meeting her eyes, but staring at the fuzzy stuff on the screen, Kendall nodded. She couldn’t make out heads or tails—or heartbeat—but she knew Baby Biker existed. Hearing the noise, imagining the heartbeat, was as powerful as seeing it. Instead of pointing anything out, the tech darkened the screen, grabbed the photos she’d printed and stuck them in a chart.

  She smiled, indicating the door. “Follow me, ma’am.”

  “Okay,” Kendall whispered, ragged and raw, although the girl didn’t notice. The utmost professional, she didn’t offer any clue…to what Kendall should do. Kendall wished they’d give her the pill and the one she needed to bring to the motel with her, so it would be done with. They could take Baby Biker from her just like everyone else had been taken from her.

  “You can get dressed,” she instructed once they crossed a small connecting hallway to the exam room. “The doctor will be in soon.”

  Did she really want to do this? Did she have a choice? Baby Biker had been developing in a hostile environment, complete with drugs, stress, and alcohol. It might be damaged.

  And? Damaged or not, it was hers.

  Kendall licked her lips. “S-suppose I take one pill?” Maybe, she could take one and think a little more on it. Then, if she made the decision to go through with the abortion, she’d have the other pill.

  “Dr. Jones will be happy to answer all your questions. He’ll be in soon.”

  The tech left Kendall alone, the baby’s heartbeat playing like a record in her head running alongside her doubts and recriminations. She wondered why she’d elected the abortion pill when she could’ve chosen another method. Suctioning. Vacuuming. Neither of those would’ve required the stupid ultrasound, just the pregnancy test since she hadn’t been to a physician before today.

  She’d have to finish Baby Biker herself. Her mother’s exploding head flashed in her mind’s eye and she jerked and jumped to her feet, releasing a sob.

  Blood. B
lood was everywhere. Would be everywhere like a red river of destruction. It wouldn’t be her mother’s, though. It would be her Baby Biker.

  She couldn’t do it. No, she had to do it, but in a different way.

  Just as she reached the conclusion she’d scheduled the wrong type of abortion, the door swung open.

  “I can’t do it this way,” she blurted in a high, frantic tone. “I…We need to reschedule.”

  Dr. Jones was a thin, African-American man with a kind face and understanding brown eyes. He looked startled at her greeting, but he nodded. “We can do that, Ms. Miller. Whatever’s best for you.” He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re only five weeks along. You still have time to decide if you want the abortion at all.”

  Her decision was made. She couldn’t go through with it today. But she would.

  Soon.

  Flipping open her chart, Dr. Jones glanced at the notes, before closing the manila folder. He lifted his hand, holding out two black and white squares. The ultrasound photos. She didn’t need them. She wouldn’t be able to pick out anything in that windshield wiper shape. Especially not Baby Biker. Wrapping her arms around her waist, her gaze fastened to the photos.

  Bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

  She snatched the images, grabbed her purse, and ran to her car. Vowing she’d return in a couple weeks when the memory of the heartbeat wasn’t so fresh in her head.

  When she’d properly mourned the circumstances of her pregnancy and let go of the thought of holding her baby in her arms.

  Chapter 8

  Logan, first, then Kendall. That would be the order of things in which Johnnie would handle the situations and fuck everything else. Logan was quite a fucking problem, but, then, so was Kendall.

  So far, what they were digging up wasn’t good on either of them.

  Their PI had given Johnnie the basics on Kendall. A younger sister who’d dropped out of sight. A mother who’d died recently. Kendall was born in Portland. Obtained her law degree from Lewis & Clark. She had no children. Had never been married. She’d dated a man named Benny before meeting her current lover. Spoon. Not ex-lover.