Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “I told you you couldn’t sleep in here with me until—”

  “Tough shit. You don’t want to fuck me? Fine. But I’m sleeping in here and you’re sleeping in here with me. I’m sick of this bullshit and it fucking stops here and now.”

  Kendall gasped and Johnnie anticipated some form of retaliation. Instead, she flopped onto her side, jerked the covers over herself and muttered, “asshole.”

  Although Johnnie sighed—his belligerence fucked the prospect of getting more pussy—he smiled, too. Kendall had actually called him an asshole.

  She’d come a long fucking way. He hoped she liked the surprise he had in store for her.

  Chapter 19

  Kendall followed Johnnie through the stands of trees. The familiar splash of the waterfall heralded his close proximity to the cave and the unsurpassed beauty of the landscape calmed him. He’d found the hidden cave that backed up to the small waterfall by accident. He’d been sitting at the edge of the stream, breathing in the scent of the evergreens and decided to go exploring. He’d followed the path of the stream and entered a clearing, immediately transported into a paradise on earth.

  Over the years, he’d visited often, rarely bringing anyone here. Christopher, Mortician, and Val knew about it. K-P had known about it. No one else. Then he’d brought Megan and, now, Kendall, who trekked behind him.

  “We’ve been walking forever,” she complained, silent until now. If not for the crunch of twigs and the rustling of leaves, he wouldn’t have known she was with him.

  “Just a few minutes more, gorgeous,” he called, hiding his smile and adjusting the knapsack he’d filled with goodies. He hoped she enjoyed his surprise, wanting it to serve as a turning point in their relationship. He wanted to show her how much she meant to him.

  “I’m a city girl. I don’t like hiking or whatever we’re doing to God knows where.”

  Finally, they reached a cave. Darkness was descending, the horizon layered in color, changing the fiery red of sunset into the grayness of dusk.

  “Do wolves roam out here?”

  She stepped closer to him and Johnnie made a soothing noise as he walked deeper into the darkness of the cave.

  “Oof,” she gasped, barreling into him at his sudden halt.

  A moment later, he lit lanterns, illuminating the area before he turned and gauged her reaction to the rose petals and candles and table cloth held in place by the lanterns. In the corner were blankets, surrounded by pillows.

  Kendall’s mouth dropped open.

  “Surprise, sweetheart,” he murmured, pleased at her reaction.

  She blinked and turned in a circle, looking at everything in silence.

  Happy he’d gotten something right with her, Johnnie laughed and crouched down, opening the knapsack. He pulled out paper plates, plastic utensils, four beers, bottled water and a covered container.

  “Why’d you do this?” she whispered, her bewilderment clear.

  “I wanted to take you on a date,” he responded, the bewildered look in her eyes making his heart turn over. “That can’t happen until the threat’s removed, so this is the next best thing.”

  The lantern light played off her red hair and beautiful features. Long lashes framed her sad brown eyes. He stood to his full height and closed the short gap between them, settling both hands on each side of her neck and caressing her nape, threading his fingers through her hair. Wanting to hold her and reassure her, he leaned in, drawing her closer. She brushed her lips against his with the lightest, barest touch that sent goose bumps racing along his spine. Her light, tender kisses felt more erotic than deep, open mouthed tongue twirling. In response and overwhelmed she’d initiated the kiss, he gave her another gentle kiss and she shivered. Sensation travelled through his body. She opened her mouth beneath his and his tongue explored, as she pressed her body closer to his, feeling every soft inch of her body. She ground against the length of his erection.

  He pulled away and gazed at her, smiling at her swollen lips and dazed expression. “You’re so gorgeous, Kendall,” he whispered. “You’re smart and loyal and ambitious. You’re a wonderful woman.”

  For once, her height or her body didn’t shame her, as if it gladdened her that she stood almost eye level with him. Her shoulders straightened and her spine stiffened.

  She grabbed his cock, over his jeans, and started massaging. He laid a hand over hers and stopped her. “No. Let’s eat first, sweetheart. Talk and enjoy each other’s company.”

  He guided her to the blanket near the tablecloth and helped her down onto the ground, then sat next to her. He opened the container and revealed quartered turkey and lettuce sandwiches. He opened beer for himself and handed her a bottled water.

  After months and months of battling his feelings for Megan, he realized what everyone had been trying to tell him. Even Megan herself. Now, looking at Kendall, he wondered how he could’ve been so blind, so fucking stubborn.

  He caressed Kendall as if he’d seen her for the first time in a long time. He pressed his lips on her forehead, trailing her hairline with the eyes of a man with the blinders finally removed.

  “Kendall,” he whispered, nothing but the night sounds and their breathing surrounding them. “Let’s get married.”

  She blinked, a startled laugh escaping her. “Married?” she echoed in disbelief, licking her lips, lust and heat brightening her eyes. She nibbled his lower lip. “Do you love me?”

  He pinched her nipple. “I think…yes,” he answered when she tensed.

  Jerking away from him, she glared at him. “You don’t. You’re only marrying me because of Baby Biker.”

  The night verged on spiraling to fucking shit unless Johnnie found a way to recover the mood from a few moments ago before he’d given that impulsive proposal. Fuck, he’d been caught up in the moment and it had just slipped out. “I’m not marrying you because of the baby,” he insisted. “I do…love you.”

  The realization shocked the shit out of him, although he’d never be able to say that to her. She’d take it the wrong way and draw some fucked-up conclusions. The lone reason he’d stumbled over the admission. He’d never thought he’d feel this way about anyone. Circumstances had kept them from spending a lot of time together and, yet, he looked forward to taking her into his arms every night. Or just seeing her gorgeous face. The spark that lit her eyes whenever he returned. Her smile. Sometimes shy. Sometimes uncertain. But all her.

  “I love you, Kendall.”

  She shook her head.

  “I want to marry you. You’re gorgeous. You’re smart. You’re strong. Do you know how many people wouldn’t have made it through all you survived?” He gave her a light kiss on the lips. “I admire you—“

  “I’m not marrying you. You go from wanting to make a go at a relationship to loving me and wanting to marry me? That’s—“

  His frustration building, Johnnie shoved his fingers through his hair. “Jesus, Kendall. That was almost six fucking weeks ago. We’ve spent time together. We’ve lived together—“

  “And what? All of a sudden you’ve had an epiphany?”

  If that’s what she wished to call the conclusion he’d reached tonight, then, yes, he’d had a goddamn epiphany. “What the fuck do you want from me?” he bit out. She’d thrown a heartfelt proposal back into his face.

  “Sincerity and honesty.”

  “Fine, Kendall. Since this dinner is fucked, please allow my dishonest, insincere fucking ass to escort you back to the goddamn MC.”

  She swiped at her tears and Johnnie’s anger deflated. He didn’t want her to cry. Fuck, pregnancy hormones ran rampant and she needed to adjust to his change of heart. He’d back off for now and broach the topic later when she wasn’t so stressed out…when he wasn’t so fucking stressed out.

  Between now and then, he’d convince her of the sincerity of his proposal and make her see how much she meant to him.

  Chapter 20

  Louis “Stretch” King pulled his bike to a stop i
n front of a non-descript house that blended in with the middle-class neighborhood. The kind of place he’d want to live in if he ever settled down and had children, with its red bricks, green shutters, and neat flowerbeds.

  He shook his head and sighed. At twenty-five, he had more than enough time to figure shit out. For the most part, he was out. His blood family hated him. His MC brothers embraced him, going out of their way to protect him and allow him time with Hanson. Of course, most of the brothers didn’t know, but Outlaw, John Boy, Mortician, Val, and Digger knew and they accepted him for him.

  Dismounting his bike, he pulled the sheet of paper from his cut and double-checked the address. He had the right place. His cellphone started ringing and Stretch frowned, recognizing Hanson’s ringtone. He’d gotten the idea from Outlaw, who had Meggie on speed dial with Love In An Elevator as her tone. Despite everything, Stretch was curious as hell to know why his Prez gave that beautiful girl that tone.

  Stretch hadn’t answered Hanson’s first call, so it stopped and started again. Fuck. He needed to sit the fuck down for a minute. Stretch had a job to do for Prez and he couldn’t let Hanson’s alluring voice and wicked ideas distract him.

  Shit, just the thought of Hanson distracted him and Stretch adjusted his dick. They’d been unable to get enough of one another after Stretch had been wounded the night Outlaw and Meggie’s house had been destroyed. Although the shot hadn’t been anything worth noting—he’d gotten released the same fucking night—it made both Stretch and Hanson realize the precariousness of life.

  The wooden door swung opened and a shirtless man stepped out. Shirtless was fine. Yeah, shirtless was cool but his six pack, wide shoulders, and corded muscles…

  Fuck. Stretch backed away, his heart racing and his body tightening.

  Hair so dark it looked black until the sunlight beamed on the strands and revealed the brown highlights. He walked closer, his bright blue eyes hard and searching.

  A frown marred his perfect features. “Are you Stretch?”

  Stretch swallowed, his hands growing clammy. He was who he was but he knew better than to assume anyone else had similar proclivities. That was the quickest way to get himself insulted, shunned, or hurt. Killed, even.

  “Asshole, you checked in or what?”

  “Checked in?” he echoed stupidly.

  “Yes,” he snapped. “Your fucking body is standing in fucking front of me. Your fucking mind is somewhere else. Checked the fuck out from business,” he added on a whisper.

  “Right. I-I’m here,” he stuttered. He’d better be there. He’d been sent to make the purchase for the explosives Prez needed. Nothing to play with.

  “Follow me then.”

  His phone started ringing again and the other man rounded on him. “Shut it the fuck off,” he snarled, snatching the device from him and doing the task himself then slamming it against Stretch’s chest.

  The moment they reached the interior and the door slammed, Stretch was shoved against the door and patted down. There were recessed shelves in the hallway and the man snatched a metal detector wand from one of them, passing it in front of Stretch, then behind.

  “Where’s your fucking heat?”

  “Saddlebags,” Stretch answered.

  He stared him in the eye, his look inscrutable, a lock of dark hair falling onto his forehead. “Who am I?”

  Okay, the questions were beginning to work on Stretch. “Who are you?” he growled. “You haven’t fucking told me.”

  He flashed a blinding smile, his straight, white teeth as perfect as the rest of him. “I would think Outlaw already told you.’

  God. Jesus. Fuck. Outlaw had.

  Stretch needed to pull his shit together, but he hadn’t been himself since K-P’s murder and he missed his gruff ass so much. The others missed him, too, and they’d known him longer than Stretch. They had their shit together, so Stretch had to do the same. He searched his mind and the man’s name came to him. “Cash,” he muttered. “You’re Cash McCall.”

  He nodded, then laughed. “Didn’t Outlaw fucking teach you not to give your hand away?”

  “I-I d-don’t understand.”

  “Because you don’t have fucking common sense, asshole.”

  That stung and anger surged into Stretch. “Fuck you, motherfucker. I’m not fucking here to answer your goddamn questions or fucking impress you with my knowledge. I’m fucking here to get what the fuck Outlaw ordered.”

  Cash stilled, his eyes twinkling. “Impress me, huh?”

  Fuck. Stretch had to play this off. He hadn’t said anything that would give away his attraction to this beautiful man. On the other hand, the asshole was just the type of brute who’d want to bury him if he discovered how Stretch felt. But he couldn’t turn a switch on and off or wire his brain not to develop attractions to this man or that woman. With women, it was cut and dry and Stretch got more pussy than he knew what to do with. Even if he hadn’t, he’d make a move and they’d accept or decline. Case closed. He did what genetics bade him and the world expected of him.

  With men? Not so easy.

  “Follow me, woo woo boy. I need to find out what the fuck Outlaw is giving you to keep your head in the fucking clouds. No wonder you fuck with bombs.”

  Stretch flipped Cash off and trailed behind him, his amused chuckles annoying the fuck out of him. He fucked with bombs because he liked mixing dangerous shit. He liked testing the fates and winning to see another day.

  At the back of the house, they walked through the last door at the end of the short hallway. The climate controlled room was filled with large white bags marked fertilizer, potassium chloride and sawdust. He had tables containing baskets of nails, empty plastic containers, reels of thin wires and the white powder Outlaw sent him for. The unattainable RDX that Stretch itched to get his hands on to create the explosive Outlaw needed.

  “You have a regular fucking Bombs R Us.”

  Cash smirked at him, the pride he felt visible in his features. He folded his arms, drawing Stretch’s gaze to his pecs and obliques. Heat crept up Stretch’s neck and he glanced away, knowing he sported a red face.

  “Woo Woo Boy?” Cash called.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Look at me.”

  Manning up, Stretch returned his focus to Cash. He’d stepped closer and the aftershave he wore caught up to Stretch’s brain and went straight to his dick. This was so fucking wrong. The last visceral reaction he’d had to anyone was the day Meggie had bounced into the kitchen, looking for Outlaw and finding K-P and the Bobs.

  He hadn’t had some freaky fascination with her like John Boy, but he’d wanted her. Her gorgeous face and killer curves alone gave them wet dreams. But it was her innocence that had them wild for her. Not too many virgins crossed their paths. Now, she’d been in Outlaw’s bed for months and Stretch—several of the brothers—fantasized about the dirty things he’d taught her.

  Now, they had to contend with Kendall and Bailey. At least, Bailey was gone, but Kendall was still there and if John Boy knew the way some of the brothers lusted after her, a fifth of their membership would be fucked up.

  Zoann crossed his mind and a cold sweat slid down his spine. Another gorgeous chick. Another chick the boys discussed fucking into oblivion.

  Stretch wanted a partner that made him feel like Hanson and Meggie did. Man or woman, he wanted someone to accept him for who he was. The biker life didn’t suit everyone, but, Prez and John Boy had managed to get gorgeous civilian girls to stand at their sides.

  Stretch didn’t know the status of Zoann’s relationship to Val. And Bailey?

  Not that they mattered. Well, they did, but Outlaw scared the shit out of Stretch more than any one of the other dudes.

  Outlaw…Stretch swallowed. Black hair. Corded muscles. Big dick.

  “Fuck!” he snorted, hating to remind himself he favored certain men and certain women. It just so happened Outlaw and his wife fit the bill. “Fuck times two.”

  “Woo…Stretch.”
Cash squinted at him.

  Stretch’s nostrils flared.

  Squeezing his temples and sliding his fingers down his jaw, dark with stubble, Cash sighed. “Let me give you some advice. Better I do it, than Outlaw. You know shit about a motherfucker, don’t let him know. That’s your ace in the hand. If I were an enemy of the Dwellers, you just let me know you’ve been fucking checking up on me when you gave me my name.”

  Stretch backed away, putting distance between himself and Cash. “Outlaw told me your name.”

  “Good try, dumb ass.” Cash shook his head and grinned again. “My first name? Yeah, I’m sure. That’s all the fuck you need to know. Right? More than likely, he told you I’m Ghost.” He lifted a brow. “That fucking ring a bell?”

  God, it did. That was exactly the name Outlaw had given him. Riley, the club’s PI had given Outlaw the report on Ghost—Cash McCall—and he checked out. Former military and loyal nomad in the Death Dwellers.

  “Well, Woo Woo?”

  Embarrassment heaped on top of his annoyance and Stretch wanted to punch him. Not to mention he hated that fucking name. “Let’s make the transaction, asshole, so I can get the fuck gone.”

  “Soon enough, Woo Woo.” He headed toward the door, his long legs eating up the space. “Have a drink with me first. I won’t keep you too long. Wouldn’t want to keep you from turning into some mad scientist motherfucker.”

  The last thing Stretch wanted was to remain in the company of that insulting asshole, but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to him.

  In more fucking ways than one.