Hopelessly Devoted (Bayou Devils MC Book 1)

by A. M. Myers

  A moan bubbles up from the back of my throat as his tongue pushes past my lips, imitating the same movement as his hips as he drives into me again and again. He starts kissing down my neck, and my teeth sink into his shoulder, earning me a long loud groan as his thrusts gain speed.

  “Do it again,” he commands, and I do. He groans into my neck as he releases my hands and plants his fist into the bed by my head. My fingers dig into his shoulders and pull back to press his lips to mine again. Just as I start to feel the climax building deep in my belly, he slows his movement, pulling out and slowly pushing back in. It keeps me suspended, holding me in bliss but not allowing me to reach release.

  “Logan,” I moan, dying to chase my orgasm and feel it crashing over me. “I need to come. Please.”

  “Ask me,” he whispers in my ear. “Ask me to make you come and maybe I will.”

  “Please, make me come, Logan,” I beg, and he smiles against my skin.

  “No.”

  I yell in frustration, and he pulls back to look at me. “I don’t think you want it bad enough yet.”

  “Then you must not be very perceptive,” I shoot back, and he laughs, still lazily thrusting into me.

  “No, I am.” He grips my hip again, and his next thrust is hard and fast. My eyes shoot open as he pounds away, driving me to the brink faster than before. My body is torpedoing to my release, and I just need a little bit more. I grip the sheets, my eyes rolling back as I grow closer and closer to an intense orgasm. Right as I’m about to go crashing over the edge, he stops completely, and I scream.

  Opening my eyes, I glare at him as he laughs and starts idly pushing into me again. “I hate you,” I spit at him, my entire body aching violently for the release he just robbed me of.

  “No, you don’t, Sweetheart. And you’re going to love the shit out of me when I finally decide to let you come.”

  Finally?

  I whimper at the thought of waiting any longer for what I want. He smiles and leans down, kissing me gently to match the way his cock is sinking into me.

  “Please,” I whisper against his lips, and he leans back just enough to look into my eyes as he pulls back and slams into me. I jolt on the bed as my eyes flutter closed, and I moan, but then he’s still again. When I open my eyes, I practically moan from just the look he’s giving me. He’s the hungry lion, and I’m the gazelle and he’s so enjoying his little game. I dig my fingers into his arms and give him a pleading look.

  He reaches between us and starts circling my clit with his thumb again, and I moan, my hips lifting for more. He performs the same torture there – rubbing me until I’m about to come and then stopping or slowing down enough that I can’t reach release. Random whining and begging noises spill out of my mouth, and I’m not sure that I can even speak anymore. Everything in my body is screaming for the climax that I’m being denied.

  “Now, you’re ready,” he finally says, and if I could speak or move, I would start shouting my thanks. He pulls his hand away and grabs my hip in one hand as the other presses into the bed next to me. Pulling back slightly, he surges forward, thrusting his cock into me again and again. My orgasm races to the surface, and my entire body is tense – a mixture of fear and anticipation – as I wait for the crash and half expect him to deny me again. Logan releases my hip and reaches up to tug on my nipple, and it sends me careening over the edge. My entire body locks up, and I throw my head back against the mattress, my mouth wide open but no sound coming out as my pussy clenches down on him in waves.

  He groans and grabs my hip again as he chases his own release, relentlessly driving into me as I lay here, spent. After a few more thrusts, he tenses, and a long, low groan rumbles up from his chest. He’s still for a moment and then he lets out a breath and collapses at my side. We just lay in silence for a while; both of us sweaty and breathing hard as we try to drift back to earth.

  “Oh my god,” I finally whisper when I feel like I’ve come back to my body. Everything is tingling and sore but in the best possible way. I turn to the side and peek over at him. He grins at me, and I can’t help but smile back. My heart pounds for a completely different reason as we just stare at each other. It’s like he’s seeing right through me, all the years of my life, the pain and happiness all on display for him.

  He smiles wider and rolls over, throwing his leg over mine as he kisses me softly, and he owns me. He pulls back and glances over at his watch before his grin takes on the predatory quality he’s been sporting since he got here.

  “It’s only been thirty minutes,” he prompts, and I scowl up at him, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. He runs his finger down my side, over my breast, and trails it down my stomach. “I remember promising you an hour.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Storm

  “You ready to do this?” I ask Chance as he rounds the truck, and he nods, his expression grim. We both know that the situation we’re about to go into is volatile. Two days ago, we got a call from a woman named Dina who was in the hospital after her husband had beat the shit out of her. One of the nurses gave her our number and even offered to hide her until we could make arrangements for her. But the husband has been sniffing around, and he has enough money that he’ll find her sooner or later. We want to get her out of here before that happens.

  “Kodiak and Fuzz are ready at the hotel.”

  I nod and climb into the truck, firing it up, and tossing my phone in the cup holder so I’ll hear it if it goes off. Dina’s parents live up in Maryland, and they are coming down to get her but they can’t get here until Wednesday so she’ll have to hang out in the hotel until then. We could leave her where she is for the next three days but the husband is getting a little too close, and Blaze decided we needed to move now. There is such a delicate balance to these situations – when it’s safe to move someone and when it’s not – and I’m kind of glad that it’s not on me to make the call. My phone buzzes, and I grab it.

  Ali:

  Am I going to see you tonight?

  Sighing, I toss it back down and focus on the road. There are so many fucking reasons why I should stay far away from that woman but I can’t do it. I always end up back on her fucking doorstep in the end. I could be putting her in danger but not even that deters me. I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect her, except stay away. I can’t anymore. Every night since I met her, I’ve lain in my bed and thought of her, wondering what she’d feel like pressed up against me and now that I know, I’m fucking toast. My phone buzzes again.

  Streak:

  I’ve got something you’re going to want to see.

  Me:

  I’ll swing by later.

  My grip on the steering wheel tightens as I think about everything I always keep buried but there is a sense of relief under all the pain, and I’m ready to end this, end him, and put all this pain in my past. For the first time in six years, I see a future in front of me, and I want it more than anything.

  “You all right, man?” Chance asks, and I glance over at him before turning back to the road.

  “It’s Ian,” I finally admit, his name tasting like acid on my tongue. He straightens up in his seat, staring at me.

  “What about him?”

  “He started sending me shit, pictures, mostly. He’s had someone following me.”

  “Fuck,” he mutters, his tone reflecting the gravity of the situation. He was right there with me when I lost everything, and he knows about the pain I’ve lived with for the past six years – the depths of utter agony that I’ve been pulled into. “You got a plan?”

  I nod.

  “What is it?”

  I glance over at him and shake my head “Don’t worry about it.”

  “No, fuck that, Brother. I’m not going to let you handle this by yourself. Tell me what you’re thinkin’ and let’s end this fucker.”

  “I said I got this,” I grit out through clenched teeth. I appreciate the sentiment but this is something that I need to do.

&nb
sp; “And I said, fuck that. You’re the closest thing I’ve got to family and I’m not gonna let you do this alone.”

  “What the fuck is he gonna do? He’s behind bars.”

  He stands two fingers to his forehead and twists them. “He’s gonna fuck with your mind. He’s gonna make you dredge up pain that you thought was behind you because that’s what he does. He’s evil incarnate and a master manipulator, and you’re stupid as shit if you go into this without admitting that.”

  “Noted,” I snap just as we pull up to the house, and he shakes his head.

  “I’m not fucking dropping this.”

  I sigh and nod. Chance only has my best interests at heart, I know that, but letting someone see just how fucking broken I still am after all these years isn’t easy. Except, I don’t feel all that broken since I met Ali. “I didn’t expect you to.”

  My phone buzzes again, and I grab it, glancing up at the house.

  Dina:

  I’m ready.

  I glance up at the little yellow house, and the curtains in the front window move back into place. I reach for the keys before deciding to leave it running. I’ve got a bad feeling today, and I don’t want to get stuck here.

  “Let’s do this,” I say, and we both climb out. Chance scans the street as we walk up the steps. The front door opens, and Dina steps out with a suitcase in her hand and a tentative smile on her face.

  “You ready to get out of here, Sweets?” Chance asks, and she nods as she looks down the street.

  “You know where Mitch is, Dina?” I ask, and she looks back to me, shaking her head. We usually like to have eyes on the husbands just so we have a warning if he’s headed for us but Dina’s husband is a hard guy to track down. His hours are erratic, and we couldn’t ask around too much without word getting back to him.

  “What do you say we get you out of here then?” Chance asks her, and she nods, taking a couple steps toward him. I nod at the woman standing in the doorway who gave Dina our number and gave her shelter.

  “Thanks for what you did.”

  She shakes her head. “No need. I was happy to help her.”

  I nod and hold my hand out to her. She takes it, and I slip the hundred dollar bill into her palm. “For your trouble.”

  She looks down at it as Chance starts leading Dina to the truck and shakes her head before trying to hand it back to me. “Oh, I couldn’t take this.”

  A car squeals around the corner, and I glance behind me, cursing when I see the blue Mustang we were supposed to watch out for. “Get back inside and lock your doors,” I tell her.

  Her eyes widen, and she disappears into the house, slamming the door, and locking it behind her. I turn to Chance. “Get her in the truck!”

  He looks up and I hear him curse before he runs to the truck and opens the door for her. She climbs in and locks it, glancing out the back window nervously as the Mustang skids to a stop, and Mitch jumps out, not even bothering to close his door.

  “Dina!” he bellows into the quiet neighborhood and tears start falling down her face as she shakes in the passenger seat.

  “Get back in your car and leave,” I tell him calmly but inside I’m raging. Fuck this piece of shit, thinking he can show up here and take Dina back by force. I’ll end that little illusion right now.

  “Fuck you,” he spits, trying to move around Chance to get to Dina. I move in front of the truck door and let my arms hang loose at my sides.

  “Last chance. Get in your car and never come near this woman again.”

  “You don’t get to take her from me. I’ll kill every last one of you fuckers if you don’t give her to me.”

  I shake my head. “That’s never going to happen. You lost her, that’s what happens when you knock a girl around to make yourself feel better. You’re a fucking coward, and no woman wants a coward.”

  His face turns red in his rage but he turns to Dina and softens his gaze. Even I have to admit that he’s a pretty damn good actor but Dina’s still got bruises around her neck where he tried to choke her the last time they were in a room together. “Dina, Baby, please don’t do this to me. I love you; you know that I do. I’m sorry, Sweetheart. Come home with me, and we can fix all this.”

  For a moment, I think she’s going to break. She looks back at him with tears in her eyes, and it’s obvious that she’s struggling. What the hell am I supposed to do if she decides to go back to him? After a couple of seconds, she takes a deep breath and turns away from him, hardening her face, and all hell breaks loose. Mitch bellows as he runs at Chance and punches him in the face before Chance can react. As he falls from the blow, his head smashes into the side of the truck, and he slumps to the ground, not moving. I don’t have time to check on him as Mitch keeps coming for me, his gaze homicidal.

  He slams into me, and we fall to the ground. Mitch manages to get a couple of good punches in before I’m able to roll him to his back. Laying my fist into his face again and again, I think about how many times he’s probably done this shit to poor Dina and any woman unlucky enough to come before her, and it fuels me on. I want to make sure that he’s never a problem for any woman ever again.

  Mitch lands a punch to my throat, and it knocks the wind out of me long enough that he rolls us again and starts returning the beating I just laid down on him. I know my face is probably already swollen and bruised but the adrenaline keeps me going, trying to get him off me. His fist comes flying at my face again, and I turn my head, causing him to punch the ground right by my head instead, and in the next moment, a booted foot is kicking him off me.

  “Piece of shit,” Chance growls, gently touching the side of his head as he stares down at Mitch in disgust as he lands half on the concrete steps. Mitch rolls around on the grass, shouting that Chance broke his ribs.

  “Serves you right, fucker.” He laughs but there is no humor in his tone. He walks over to me and holds out a hand to help me up. My head spins when I’m back on my feet, and Chance slaps a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

  “You okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I’m good but we should split.”

  “I called Smith. He’s coming to sit with our friend here until we get her somewhere safe.”

  “You can’t hide her from me,” Mitch snarls, spitting blood out on the ground. “I’ll always find her.”

  Chance crouches down and gets right in his face, pulling a gun out from his waistband and pointing it between Mitch’s eyes. Mitch freezes, and his eyes widen in fear. “You’re making the bullet I’m dying to put in your brain look better and better. If I were you, I’d shut the fuck up. Unless, of course, you’d like to splatter this nice woman’s house with pink mist.”

  “Jesus Christ, Chance. Put it away,” I growl, looking around at the houses on either side of us. This is not the kind of neighborhood where nobody bats an eye when you pull a gun out and I’m sure the fight drew some attention.

  Chance stands and tucks the gun back in his waistband just as Smith pulls up on his motorcycle, nodding at us. “I got this. Get her out of here, yeah?”

  I nod, and Chance stalks off to the truck without another word. I can’t say that I blame him. This is personal for all of us in a way, and I’d love to find an old back road and bury this waste of space somewhere even the gators won’t find him. It’s a fine line I walk between being the man that I know I should be and turning into the monster that years of darkness contorted me into. But maybe with Ali in my life, I stand a fighting chance.

  * * * *

  “What is it that you wanted to show me?” I ask Streak, the bottle of Jack firmly in my grasp as he walks past me. He stops and looks at me with a grimace on his face.

  “You look like shit.”

  I take a swig of alcohol and grit my teeth. “You got something to show me or not?”

  He holds his hands up in surrender and points to the little office where he works most of the time. “Follow me.”

  I follow him back to his office and he shuts the door, sitting do
wn in his office chair, and I throw my body down on the couch we put in here since he’ll go days without sleeping sometimes. He powers up the computers and turns to me.

  “So, the guy you told me to keep an eye on,” he starts, and I nod. “He’s been a model prisoner, and I can’t find a single thing on him no matter how hard I dig.”

  “You already told me this shit,” I snap, irritated that he can’t find the proof to back up what I already know.

  “Well, then I got to thinking that if he was smart, he would stay far away from all of this so I looked into his family. Did you know he’s got a twin brother?”

  I sit up and blink at him, trying to figure out if I heard him right. A twin brother? I search my memory but I can’t ever recall Fi telling me about a twin. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Not surprising. It seems he’s a bit of a black sheep. The family keeps him out of the limelight and that means, he doesn’t get to share in the family money.”

  “Where the fuck are you going with this, Streak?”

  “Recently, withdrawals of two thousand dollars have been coming out of Ian’s account every week and going into the brother’s account. And I can’t find a record of the brother working anywhere.”

  I run my hand over my face, trying to process what he’s telling me. “So, you think the brother is being paid to follow me? For what reason?”

  Streak shrugs. “Just to mess with you. I mean, based on everything I’ve found out about this son of a bitch, that’s his MO, right?”

  “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

  “Look, man, I could be wrong but the brother barely has a criminal past. A couple of drug charges for weed and an assault charge for a bar fight, but he certainly doesn’t seem like a criminal mastermind.”