Knox Brotherhood

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Knox Brotherhood Page 2

by Knox, Elizabeth


  I leave the next morning; Christmas Day. There wasn’t a point in staying around now that there was nothing tying me down. Plus, I needed an outlet for my anger and pain, and quick. This is going to be my redemption job. My way to being the Elena I could recognize when I look in the mirror.

  I pack two duffel bags full of necessities; clothes, shampoo, and makeup. I hop in my 2017 Ford Mustang and hit the road.

  Destination: Tennessee

  It takes me six hours to get there; the MC is located right in the mountains in the small town of Gainesville. It is truly a small town. There’s a bank, a couple restaurants, a grocery store, law office, daycare, school, and not much else.

  I find a half-way decent room at the only motel in town. From the looks of it, it probably has roaches. The sooner I could get into the club, the better. I wouldn’t be getting an ounce of sleep in this shit hole.

  I take a quick shower, cringing because the white tile is yellow. They had a ‘cleaning service,' but I doubt it had been properly cleaned in years.

  I dry my hair, apply some makeup, and dump all my clothes out on the bed. My plan? Go to the biker bar, get a few drinks, and make my presence known. My tactic? Easy.

  I was going to dress like an Ol’ Lady, not like some stupid little skank who comes to the bar just to suck their cocks. I learned from my mother how to dress the part. Ol’ Ladies aren’t there to service the men. I sure as hell would not be there to do that either. I was going to be walking in like I owned the place because I did.

  These bikers are going bow on their knees when I walk in because I bet you no bitch has ever dressed as I was about to.

  I grab a pair of black leather leggings and black heels; the heel so thin that stepping the wrong way could crack it. I find a thin, jersey type tank top and pair it with my emerald green leather jacket. I pull my hair out over my jacket, the loose curls bouncing over my breasts. I go into the bathroom, applying a little more eyeliner and touch up my neutral matte lipstick. I slide on my metallic aviators and head for the front door.

  I am good to go.

  CHAPTER 2

  Reed

  “Where the hell did that fine piece come from?” Enzo grumbles, staring right into the doorway of Bubba’s.

  “She’s gotta be new,” Max adds.

  She was. I’d never seen her in Gainesville, and I know every single person. It is my job to. If I’d seen this hot siren come into my town before, I’d fucking know.

  She is no club whore; that is a fact. She is dressed in head to toe leather, her perky breasts visible from the low scoop of her shirt, and that fire red hair of hers is intoxicating. My cock is already twitching.

  “No one touches her,” I growl at the men around me, making them all nod in accordance. I am the Prez, and whatever the fuck I say, goes.

  “Why you gotta always call dibs on the hot ones?” Seamus asks, and I shoot him a death glare. He just laughs it off. He may have been the strongest member of my club, but he is also the stupidest.

  I turn back to the woman who was blowing my mind and watch her for another moment longer. The way this woman walked, she acted like she owned the place, and dammit, she could. She was a siren for sure; a woman to be reckoned with. And she just walked right past me, smirking slightly.

  I look on her leathers for patches, but there weren’t any. That is good; it means she wasn’t an Ol’ Lady. She wasn’t committed to a club, or a man. At least not yet.

  That was about to change, and I was going to make damn sure of the fact.

  She may not have known it yet, but she is mine.

  ***

  Elena

  Bubba’s was the only bar in Gainesville. I thought the biker bar would be harder to find, but it wasn’t. They really made it easy for me. I slide out of my Mustang and walk into the bar. Before I even go through the doors, I notice eyes on me; my plan is working.

  I pull my aviators off walking into the bar, sliding them into the small black leather fringe purse I brought with me, completing my biker chick look.

  I glance around the bar, looking for that empty barstool I wanted. Instead, I see my target.

  Reed Michaels, President of the Skulls Renegade MC.

  The pictures didn’t do him justice. They had to be old because he wasn’t the muscular man I was looking at now. His tribal tattoos came out from his fitted tee. His stare was on me, as were the rest of the men’s.

  I walk straight past him, getting a whiff of sandalwood and old tobacco. I’m not a fan of the smell of cigarettes, but that wasn’t it. It reminds me of chewing tobacco. Now that always smelled good despite the bad habit that came with it.

  “What can I getcha, lady?” A tall woman with jet black hair asks me. She struck me as a lifer with a get up as close to mine as I saw in the place, though it was a little skimpy for my tastes. It was probably part of the job, though.

  “Jack n’ Coke, please.” I hand her a twenty, urging her to keep the change.

  She walks away, coming back a few minutes later with my drink. I take a sip, and it is pure perfection. “You look like a woman on a mission,” the women comments. “I’m Daisy.” She extends her hand and I shake it.

  “I’m Elena”

  “So, what mission are we on tonight Elena?” She winks at me, surveying the bar.

  “I’m looking for some good cock.” Daisy laughs at me, but I wasn’t lying. I was looking for some sex. Who said I couldn’t be on assignment and enjoy some mind-blowing sex too?

  “There’s plenty of that around here, sista,” she tells me with a grin. Was I irresponsible? Probably, but I hadn’t had sex in two months. Two months of my hormones being jumbled up and being completely unsatisfied.

  Your own hand can only do so much.

  “I don’t think you’re getting any cock, except Reed’s, though,” she comments. Reed. My target. I supposed the Prez probably did get dibs on new women unless he already had an Ol’ Lady, but Reed was young for a Prez.

  Being with him would be crossing the line a little bit, but…

  “Who’s Reed?” I ask knowing all too well who Reed Michaels was. Daisy points to the end of the bar where the man’s eyes were locked to my body. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he looked even hotter now. His black hair was slicked back like an old-school greaser. A few days of not shaving amped up his sex appeal for me. His bulging muscles coming out of that tee, and those tattoos were a major turn on in my book. I felt like I was staring into the eyes of a cover model for Inked.

  “Ah” I chuckle, taking another sip of my drink.

  “What’s your story? I ain’t ever seen you around here,” Daisy questions politely.

  “I’m new to town, I just came in today,” I admit, wanting to keep things as authentic as possible. Though, Kristie would probably choke on her morning coffee if she knew I was being so honest and using my own name.

  “You stayin’?” I like her boldness to fish for information. In another life, we probably would’ve been the best of friends.

  “Yeah, I think so. I need a change of scenery. I walked in on my fiancé fucking his secretary. Adios!” I wave my hand up dramatically, taking another sip of my drink. Daisy’s face drops open. Was that a little too much honesty? At least scorned woman was a part I could play without trying.

  “Girl, I know we just met but what’re we gonna do? Light some shit up? Poison his girl?” I laugh loudly at the poison comment.

  “I handled it,” I add with a wink for effect.

  “I bet ya did sista; I bet ya did!” Daisy stays quiet for a moment, “Now, let’s get ya some sex!” She says a little too loudly; a few heads turn in my direction. I laugh it off because I wouldn’t be mortified by her outburst. I like this girl; I really like her.

  Daisy and I chat for a while; I find out as much about her as I could. It wasn’t much. She was from Baltimore but moved out to Tennessee when she turned eighteen. Daisy has been working at the bar for four years now. “What about you, where you from?”

  �
�I’m from Texas, but I moved away when I was really young.”

  “Ya look like a Texas girl; everything about cha screams bad ass chick. What’s the saying ‘Don’t mess with Texas’?”

  “You got it!” I wasn’t lying; I am from Texas. Austin specifically, but that was in my past. I left Austin, TX behind when I was seventeen and never looked back. I don’t think I ever will.

  “Babycakes!” A woman shouts from behind us, another one is next to her, sliding onto the two barstools next to me. Daisy greets both women.

  “That’s Jenna,” Daisy points to the brunette, “That’s Michelle,” Daisy points to the blonde.

  “And this is Elena; she’s new to town. She moved down here after she found her fiancé cheating on her with his secretary.” Daisy is quick to share the savory piece of gossip. There was nothing better for women to bond over than an asshole cheater.

  “Is this an episode of Days of Our Lives?” Michelle says, her mouth hitting the floor.

  “Nope, just my life” I laugh.

  “We’re on a mission to get Elena laid. I think Reed’s gonna fulfill her needs.”

  Michelle and Jenna both look past me, to the end of the bar where Reed is sitting. “Mhm!” They both mumble simultaneously, giggling into their chests.

  “What’s his story?” I ask the ladies while Daisy refills my drink. “Reed is…”

  “Mysterious.”

  “Unpredictable.”

  “Sexy as hell.”

  “Well damn, not a lot to go on,” I joke, the girls just nod and smile. I’m surprised with the turnout of people that were there on Christmas. It was in the late evening, so maybe they’d all had their own Christmases and then headed to the bar. I wouldn’t know much about that; it was usually Rich and me.

  Now it was just me.

  “Get some music on! I’m dying!” Jenna dramatically clenches her heart. “Tell me it’s not Christmas Carols, though,”

  “Fuck no!” Daisy laughs, pulling a remote out of a drawer, turning on the music system. “I feel inspired by your situation.”

  A second later, Christina Aguilera’s Fighter comes over the speakers. Daisy lines up six shots of tequila in front of us, and I shoot back two, and the others disappear. “Let’s get dancin’ ladies!” Jenna drags me onto the dancefloor; Daisy and Michelle right behind us.

  I sway my hips to the beat, letting loose a little. Nothing could happen to me dancing in a biker bar, at least, nothing I didn’t want to happen. Jenna ground her ass against me. I return the favor, my hands going over my head, grinding my ass to the beat. “This is about cha girl!” Daisy yells over the music. I cock my head back and laugh.

  Hanging around these ladies, I feel like I had known them for years. I was just comfortable with them. They were going to be my in, I just know it.

  Theory of a Deadman’s Bad Girlfriend comes on next. We stay out on the dance floor grinding up against each other. One by one the girls were met with dancing partners, I close my eyes, letting the beat guide me. A set of hands go around my hips, a little too close to my hidden treasure than I liked. I flip around, seeing some blonde douche-face grinding up on me. I tug myself out of his grasp and walk back to the bar. He grabs my arm; there was no warning. I love to be touched by men, but only when I allowed it.

  I close my fist, meeting it with his face. He groans in pain, blood coming out of his nose. “You little bitch,” he snaps, taking a few steps towards me. I use the training I learned in Quantico, tucking my leg under his calf, pulling him forward which resulted in flipping Mr. Douche Face flat on his back. I put my foot right over his jewels, pressing lightly. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that.”

  “Apologize to the lady, Butch.”

  I don’t move; my eyes locked on Butch’s, my foot slowly applying pressure to his sensitive area.

  “I’m sorry,” Butch says. The shithead looks to me, then to whoever is standing behind me. “Are you, really?” I press further onto his balls.

  “Christ! Yes, I’m sorry!” I remove my foot from his area.

  “Butch, don’t fuck with me. You won’t like what you get.”

  I spin around, facing Reed. He is maybe two feet behind me. The look on his face makes me feel like I was a steak dinner. I feel like I was on fire. Maybe it was the high from kicking a grown man’s ass, or maybe it’s from the way Reed Michaels was just staring at me.

  I walk right past him, going out the front of the bar to my Mustang. Footsteps were right behind me, “Siren, you aren’t getting away that easy.”

  Siren? That is a new one.

  I take the key to my car out of my purse, looking over to Reed. “Don’t you worry Buttercup, I’ll be back.” I walk out the door, but I was sure he has followed me.

  He had the same look in his eyes. I was dinner, or maybe I was dessert. When a man looks at you with such primal need like that, it’s hard not to get aroused. Reed steps toward me, his arms going around my body, pinning me to my car. He comes closer, his chest brushing against my breasts. His left hand holding my hip. Holding me so I wouldn’t move. His other hand skims my skin, starting at my navel, going slowly across my stomach, in between my breasts, to my collarbone and then up my jaw.

  I shouldn’t have liked the way he was touching me. He was my target. It was my job to find out all his dirty secrets and report them to my handler. Then he would probably be in some deep shit.

  But this.

  His hands on me were exhilarating.

  Reed tilts my head and crushes his lips down onto mine. The kiss is demanding, defining. Surprisingly his lips are soft, not calloused like I’d expected from such a man. Electricity surges through both of our bodies, and I give in, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  I pull away from him – after all, what the hell was I doing? This is crazy, nuts. I know this is wrong. It’s so beyond the parameters of right and wrong.

  “You’re not getting away that easily, Siren” He repeats, his tone filled with promise, laced with a primal need that I could see in his eyes. His words excite me. I knew everything about Reed Michaels, the notorious MC Prez, yet everything I knew about him was on paper. His words send fire through my body, he wasn’t making a statement but instead with those words it is a promise. But a promise of what? I had a hunch I was about to find out.

  “You come here, to my bar, in this sexy as hell get up and expect to leave alone?” He asks, trailing a finger over my outfit. I could feel the heat radiating through my thin jersey top; it’s like he was the one fueling my fire, dripping small rounds of gasoline until I’d engulf into flames.

  “Yeah, I do” I snap back, the kiss we shared threw me off kilter, but how dare he expect anything more from me. I’m many things, but a pushover isn’t one of them.

  “I’m leaving alone,” I tell him, staring deep into those dangerously dark eyes of his. Those eyes that had me dripping wet the moment I walked into Bubba’s. Damn him, and his amazingly good looks. He looks me over, up and down, lingering over my breasts a moment longer than he should have. His smirk confirms that he wanted me to see him ogling over me.

  He takes a step closer to me; his chest grazes my breasts yet again, I could feel his breath hitting the top of my forehead. I was nervous – and I’m never fucking nervous. Something about him excites me and terrifies me at the same time. He slides his hand under my jaw and tilts my face up, so I’m staring up at him, right into those eyes of his. “Tonight will be the only night you leave alone” I open my mouth to counter back, to tell him to fuck off, that I’d be leaving alone, however, many times I wanted but suddenly his lips were crushing over mine. I moan into the kiss, not trying to encourage him but the way those velvety lips came over mine, demanding more from me, wanting more from me – I was toast.

  He’s a man who takes what he wants, he doesn’t ask, he takes and that, well that lights up my fire like nothing else.

  Reed slides his greedy hands over me, lifting me into his arms. I didn’t object, knowing that I should.
I want him as much as he wants me. I hear the click of my car door opening; then I am leaning backward. He turns quickly to shut the car door, leaning over me, staring into my eyes

  “So, how’s this gonna go Siren? You gonna act like you don’t want my cock inside you when I’ve seen the way you been starin’ all night long? Or are you gonna make it easy on both of us and accept the hard fuck imma ‘bout to give ya” I should have hated the way he was speaking to me, I don’t know what the hell is going on in my mind – I’m so turned on by him.

  This is crossing a line, a big red line marked with white ink that says, ‘there’s no turning back.' Dammit, all to hell, I’m crossing that big line, and I’m going to enjoy it.

  “Would you quit your yapping and give me the hard fuck we both want?” I say to him, somehow finding the confidence I didn’t know I had. I work my way to my pants, hooking my fingers under them, sliding them slowly down my legs until I toss them on the floor. He watches, licking his bottom lip as I entertain him. It is dark, yet still bright enough that I could make out his features.

  He doesn’t speak for a moment; I was left wondering if I was even going to get fucked. “Shirt too” I did as he directs, sliding my shirt off, tossing it onto the floor of the car. I had removed my bra before he asked for that as well. When we were kissing like horny teenagers outside of the car, I thought I saw the hunger in his eyes, but that was nothing compared to the crazed animal I see before me right now. He’s the lion, and I’m the gazelle.

  Without warning, he trails his hand up my leg and slides two fingers inside me. It should’ve hurt; it didn’t, I was dripping wet for him. The entire night of staring at him, thinking what it would be like if he fucked me, the banter outside my car, he’s primed me like no other. “All this for me baby?” He leans over me, his voice coming out as a husky growl. I don’t speak, debating internally if I should, or if I should just keep my mouth shut.

  “I asked you a question. I expect to hear an answer.” His voice is firm, demanding. He curls his fingers up against my g-spot and pushes, circling his thumb around my clit. I writher underneath him, a small whimper escaping my lips. “Answer.”

 

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