Forbidden

by Alana Sapphire

  FORBIDDEN

  Death Dealers MC Series, Book 1

  By Alana Sapphire

  Copyright 2015 Alana Sapphire

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are fictitious or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products or works mentioned.

  Thank you for purchasing this eBook. This ebook remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. This ebook, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

  Cover design by Louisa Maggio from LM Creations

  Edited by Hot Tree Editing

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Rock Hard

  About the Author

  Forbidden (adjective)

  – Not permitted or allowed

  Synonyms – banned, barred, prohibited

  CHAPTER 1

  ***Gage***

  “Fuck me. Who’s that?”

  Einstein follows my gaze and furrows his brows in confusion.

  “Who?”

  “Her. In the blue shorts, white tank top.”

  “Oh, that’s Lonnie’s sister,” E says.

  “She belong to anyone?” I ask.

  “Doubt it. I think she just moved here.”

  “Fuck.” I can’t take my eyes off her.

  “I know, man. Practically every man here has been salivating over her since she showed up.”

  And why wouldn’t they? She’s a Latina goddess. My view of her is from the side, but goddamn! Tits a man can bury his face in, an ass to grab onto, a tiny waist, and legs perfect for wrapping around me. Her smooth, spotless, caramel skin has my fingers itching to touch her, and her long, jet-black hair with streaks of blue would look amazing coiled around my fist…while I fuck her doggy-style.

  “You sure she doesn’t have an old man?”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to find out?”

  “Because I am,” I answer him over my shoulder as I walk away.

  I watch her as I make my way over. She’s standing between Lonnie and Super Head. I don’t know her real name, but the bitch can sure suck a dick. Lonnie points something out to them and they turn at an angle where I can see her face. I freeze in my tracks. This chick is fucking hot! I’m getting a boner just looking at her. I continue walking, my eyes locked on her like a missile to its target. When the other two notice me approaching, they stand straighter and push out their chests. The black-haired beauty rolls her eyes and folds her arms under her breasts. I nod to what’s-her-face and drape my arm around Lonnie’s shoulders.

  “Lonnie, baby. Ain’t seen you in a while.”

  She giggles and rubs against me, but I am in no way interested in her right now. The beauty rolls her eyes again and turns her head to the side. She has my full attention, yet she’s looking everywhere but at me. Out of either boredom or annoyance, she starts fidgeting with one of the five earrings in her right ear.

  “Miss me, Gage?” Lonnie tries to draw my attention back to her.

  “All the brothers missed you,” I say, even though if I hadn’t seen her today, I wouldn’t have realized she was away.

  “I was out of town.”

  Yeah, yeah, whatever.

  “Mm hmm. Who’s this?”

  “This is my sister, Raven.”

  Raven. Perfect. Just perfect. She finally looks at me, and I stare into the most gorgeous blue eyes I’ve ever seen, like the sky on a cloudless day, like her shorts, the streaks in her hair, and the color on her eyelids. I’m guessing blue is her favorite color.

  “Raven –”

  “Hi. Bye.”

  I watch in disbelief as she marches off. Lonnie stiffens beneath my arm.

  “Gage, she doesn’t understand –”

  “It’s okay, Lonnie,” I cut her off.

  I leave them and march right after her, grabbing her wrist before she storms out the gate. No one walks away from me. No one.

  “Let go of me!”

  She twists her hand out of my grasp and turns to face me. She’s a little thing, barely reaching my chin, but her attitude is bigger than that small body can contain. Her eyes are shooting daggers. She thinks she’s intimidating? I can’t help but smile.

  “Something funny?”

  “You.”

  “Save it. I didn’t come here to be anyone’s whore.”

  She turns to leave and I grab her hand to stop her. Again, she pulls out of my grasp.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Her voice is laced with contempt. I know she’s new around here, but she can’t be that new.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  Her gaze drops to my cut and the different patches before she looks me in the eyes again.

  “I don’t care who you are. I told you, I didn’t come here to be anyone’s whore.”

  She’s too cute. It’s strange because I like it, and I don’t do cute. I want to throw her over my shoulder and lock her away in my room. After a good fuck, she’ll calm down. Maybe I’ll toy with her for a bit, see how far I can push her.

  “Really? Dressed like that and hanging out with Lonnie and Super Head?”

  Her body shakes with righteous indignation. She clenches her little fists at her sides, trying to hold in her anger.

  “First of all, there’s nothing wrong with the way I’m dressed. Secondly, I may not like that Lonnie chooses to spread her legs for you and your stupid club, but she’s my sister. Third, I don’t even know Super Head or whatever you want to call her. She’s Lonnie’s friend.”

  She’s a real spitfire. Her accent is even more pronounced when she’s angry, making her words sound more like Spanish and less like English. Adorable, and sexy as hell. I can just imagine what she looks like when she’s coming. Eyes closed…no, wide open, lips parted, chest heaving, and then finally screaming my name. I need to see it.

  “So, why are you here?”

  “I wanted to see what the big deal was. And just as I expected, I’m not impressed.”

  “You know, you have quite a mouth on you. I’m sure I can find better uses for it.”

  Like sucking my dick, for instance. She narrows her eyes at me, seething.

  “Fuck you!”

  I let her walk off this time. Damn, she’s the type you hate to see leave, but love to watch walk away. The way she swings her hips is just…hypnotic. I want to see her bent over before me while I smack that ass. Shit. Now I’m as hard as a brick. No worries. I’m sure I’ll be buried in that pussy tonight.

  She heads back to her sister and gets what I assume is a good tongue-lashing. Lonnie’s been around for a while and knows the rules. Raven isn’t taking it sitting down, though; she seems to be giving as good as she’s getting. I grab a beer and watch as she walks away from her sister and leans on the fence, quietly fuming. I make my way back to E, who has a huge grin on his face.

  “Looks like things didn’t go too well.”

  “She’s definitely not like the other bitches here, brother.”

  “Shit, if she shot you down, then none of these shitheads has a chance in hell.”

  I chuckle as I watch man afte
r man approach her, then walk away looking angry or offended. My guys don’t deal with rejection often. At least I know it’s not just me. It doesn’t bother me. I ain’t never met a bitch I couldn’t get. Shit, all I have to do is crook my finger and these bitches come running. Not Raven, though. And that makes me want her more.

  “So, did you get the intel you were looking for?”

  “Shit!” How the fuck did I let her walk away without finding out if she has an old man?

  “I can’t believe you forgot the reason you went over there in the first place. You losing your touch?”

  Losing my touch? Never. She’ll fall in line just like every other bitch. I watch with a smirk as another brother steps up to her. “Trust me, E; I’ll have her under me in no time.”

  ***Raven***

  “Back off, asshole. I said I’m not interested.”

  “Bitch! You can’t talk to me like that.”

  “I just did.”

  I turn away from grease-monkey minion number four and stare down at my nails in disinterest. I swear they all think they’re God’s gift to all females. Women like Lonnie make them feel like they’re kings and every woman belongs in their harem. Well, not me. No, sir. The biggest idiot of them all is the leader of the grease-monkey minions. Gage. What the hell kind of name is that, anyway? Stupid biker thinking I’d be impressed because he’s the stupid president of a stupid motorcycle club. Estúpido. I don’t care who he is. Everyone else in this town either kisses his ass or cowers in his presence, but he’ll get neither reaction from me. Why did he come after me? Lonnie and Super Head were standing right there. Shit. Now I’m even using his terminology. I need to get out of here.

  I push away from the fence and start making my way to the gate. The scent of greasy burgers hits me as I walk past the grill and my stomach growls in anger. That’s right. I haven’t eaten all day. What the hell; two more minutes can’t hurt. What would be the point of coming to a barbecue and not taking advantage of the food? The man at the grill smiles as I approach. He’s wearing a cut, so I know he’s a member. He’s old, though, probably a relic from the original members. He reminds me of my grandpa. He has kind, green eyes and an easy smile. I give him a smile of my own.

  “Aren’t you a pretty little thing? What can I get you, darlin’?”

  “Those burgers smell pretty good.”

  “Aah.”

  He points at me with the spatula in his hand as he grabs the buns and adds a slice of cheese to one of the patties on the grill.

  “That would be my secret ingredient.”

  On one bun, he piles lettuce, tomato, pickles, mustard, and ketchup, but I stop him when he reaches for the onion. He places the patty on the other and sets it on top. He makes quite a production of it before handing me the paper plate and a few napkins. I can’t help but giggle.

  “Dinner and a show?”

  “Only for you, little darlin’.”

  Before walking off, I take a bite and give him a thumbs-up.

  “It’s delicious.”

  He bows and turns to another girl who wanders up. I walk off and grab a Coke from one of the big drums filled with ice and drinks littering the property. Time to blow this Popsicle stand. I wrap my burger in one of the napkins and toss the plate in a garbage can. I move back in the direction I left Lonnie to tell her I’m leaving, but I find her grinding on one of the minion’s laps. They might as well be fucking. Disgusting. I don’t need to see that shit while I’m eating. I walk right past her and decide to send her a text. My burger is gone by the time I reach the gates. It was awesome. It’s probably the best part of this whole day. I toss the napkins and half-empty can of Coke, and pop an Extra gum in my mouth. I can’t wait to get home and curl up with a good book. I haven’t walked five minutes before a motorcycle pulls up alongside me. I look over and roll my eyes in disgust. Great, the minion boss.

  “Where you off to, Raven?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “No, but I still want to know.”

  I stop walking and turn to face him. He comes to a stop also, places both feet on the ground, and switches off the ignition. Then, he removes his helmet and hangs it on the handle bar.

  “Why?”

  He grins, revealing what I think are the most perfect teeth I’ve ever seen. That prompts me to take a good look at him. He has blue eyes, but not like mine. They’re darker, in both color and intensity. His hair is a light, golden brown at the roots and more golden blond at the ends. It’s most likely natural; he doesn’t strike me as the type to sit in a salon getting his hair colored. It sticks out in different directions like he doesn’t comb it, but somehow it works for him.

  He has the features of a movie star and could beat out Brad Pitt any day. His lips are totally kissable and I want to bite into his full, lower one. The stubble on his face means he hasn’t shaved in a few days – more than a five o’ clock shadow, but not fully grown. It’s sexy as hell. He’s tall, too. Well, taller than me, but that doesn’t mean much since most people are taller than me. I’m only 5'4". He’s probably 6'3", maybe 6'4", and from what I see of his arms, he’s pretty ripped. Not in a body-builder sort of way, but lean and defined. Not bad for a grease monkey.

  However, there seems to be something dark about him. Something dangerous. He’s trouble with a capital T-R-O-U-B-L-E, not just the “T”. It’s not the motorcycle, the tattoos running down both arms, or the one peeking out of the neck of his shirt. It’s not the leather, combat boots, or ripped jeans. Even if he was the picture of a Stepford husband, wearing an immaculate three-piece suit, it would still be obvious. He’s not someone you want to mess with. There’s something sinister lurking behind those good looks. I can tell just by looking at him that everything I’ve heard is true. He not only has a reputation as a badass, but as a player. Women all over town, probably all over the world, have stories about him – hit-and-run stories. I’m not about to become one of his victims.

  “Let’s just say I have an inquisitive mind,” he says.

  “Go stick your nose in someone else’s business.”

  His gaze travels over my body, lingering in places it shouldn’t. The heat of his appraisal burns away my clothes, leaving me feeling naked. The unconcealed lust sends a shiver down my spine. I may not want him, but when a hot guy looks at you like that…shiiit. His eyes meet mine, and I shift uncomfortably but hold his stare.

  “I want to stick it in yours.”

  And the spell is broken. I scoff at him and continue walking. I have neither the time nor the inclination to listen to his double entendres. I only get a few feet when he grabs me. Again.

  “What is it with you and grabbing people? You ever heard of personal space?”

  He tightens his hold and pulls me close to him. My heart rate speeds up. He tilts his head to the side and gazes into my eyes. Just like that, the spell is cast once more. I’m unable to look away.

  “Why do you keep running from me?”

  “I’m not running. I’m leaving, going home.”

  He loosens his grip and jerks his head toward his bike.

  “Hop on. I’ll give you a ride.”

  I step back, shaking my head. He watches me, quirking a curious brow.

  “Nuh-uh. There’s no way I’m getting on that thing.”

  His lips curve up, and suddenly all I can think about is how beautiful his smile is. I can’t let that cloud my judgment. I need to remember who he is and what he represents.

  “What, you scared?”

  “I’m not scared. I just don’t want people thinking I’m following in Lonnie’s steps. I have to think about my reputation.”

  “I’m only offering you a ride home.”

  “Yes, but your reputation precedes you.”

  He shoves his hands in his pockets and nods in understanding.

  “It’s just a ride. Unless, of course, you want to ride me, too.”

  He gives me a smug smile and I narrow my eyes at him. He thinks he’s so smooth.


  “I’ve heard you’re a player. If this is how you pick up women, there’s something seriously wrong with them.”

  “Actually, they usually try to pick me up.”

  “Oh, God. It’s worse than I thought.”

  He chuckles and steps into my space once more. My body is hyperaware of him. Why do I have to be attracted to the very thing I need to stay away from?

  “Let me take you home.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll walk.”

  I turn around but before I can take a step, his voice, low and commanding, stops me.

  “Raven, it’s getting dark and I don’t want you walking alone. I’m taking you home.”

  Beyond the arrogance of him asserting his perceived control over me, there’s a level of concern in his tone that affects me. Why would he care? He doesn’t even know me. It’s obvious he’s interested in me, but I’ve made my position quite clear. Is he just looking out for my safety, or is it a tactic to blindside me? I face him once more and he flashes a crooked smile.

  “Look, Mr.…?”

  “Mr.? How old do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know. How old do you think I am?”

  His brows knit in concentration and a bit of concern as his gaze rakes over my body.

  “How old are you?” he asks.

  “Again, none of your business.”

  “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll still give you a ride.”

  “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” I huff.

  “Nope.”

  I sigh and shake my head in resignation. He’s a persistent fucker.

  “If I’m going to get on that motorcycle with you, I need to at least know your last name.”

  He grins and takes my hand in his huge, rough one.

  “Hunter. Gage Hunter.”

  “Raven Alvarez.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Alvarez.”

  “You, too, Mr. Hunter.”

  “Gage…please.”

  “Okay, Gage. You may call me Miss Alvarez.”