by Vivian Gray
But Kane didn’t swing as wide as Jet had expected, and he didn’t have the time to come up on the inside that he needed. Shit.
He kicked the throttle up a notch and tried for sheer speed to come up around Kane, but Kane had a sense of where he was and blocked Jet twice.
They’d agreed to two circuits of the road, and as they came around to the starting point, Jet saw Bree’s face. It was only for a second, they were moving way too fast for him to try and focus on her at all, but he couldn’t miss how pale her face was, how very afraid she was. For herself, for him, for the baby, for all of them, he didn’t know.
But it gave him the edge he needed. When Kane flew wide, even just a little bit, on that inner corner, Jet caught him. He slipped through the hole that Kane left behind, and then he opened the throttle up. Through the final three turns, Kane couldn’t even get close.
He passed the Chopper holding their worn checkered flag, and let the bike run out its speed to avoid spraying everyone with dust and rocks. But as soon as he was stopped, ten yards on, he dumped the bike in the dust and ran back to the small crowd.
The mooks didn’t know what to do, and it was easy for Jet to step in, pull the asshole’s grip off Bree’s arm, and put her behind him. He felt her hand on his shoulder, trembling, as he backed her away towards the other War Choppers. He heard Trisha behind him, wrapping her arms around Bree and stepping away from the crowd. Trisha had brought a car, and she knew to put Bree in it and get out of dodge.
But Bree stopped before they got far. “Cat,” she called out.
Her friend’s gaze snapped up like her head was on a string. Her face went even paler than it had been already. She glanced towards Kane. Kane had just kicked his own bike down and was screaming orders at people who weren’t listening. The mooks were staring at him. Jet willed her to run.
It took a moment too long. When she got her feet moving, attention had shifted off Kane. The asshole who had been holding her just reached out and wrapped his meaty palm around her arm, hauling her back to the space Bree had just held.
Bree screamed for her friend. Trisha glanced at Jet, saw his nod, and pulled Bree along behind her. She was whispering urgently in Bree’s ear, and Bree eventually subsided. Trisha got Bree into the car, but instead of peeling out like she was supposed to, she left the car idling. Probably hoping that Jet would get Cat out of the fray.
He didn’t like it, but he understood why it was happening.
When Kane pulled a small handgun from his back holster – he’d clearly thought it very well hidden, although Jet had marked it as soon as he’d seen Kane turn – he advanced on Jet like every movie thug that had ever existed. It was almost sad how stereotypical it was; there had been times when Kane had been one of the best-trained fighters Jet knew.
Instead, he easily blocked the gun when Kane came in hard and fast, clearly meaning to stick it right into Jet’s face. With his left hand, he pushed the gun aside in a basic self-defense move. When Kane’s attention followed the gun up and out, Jet came in with two right jabs, hard and fast, right onto the same spot he’d brutalized the day before.
Kane groaned, and the weapon fell into the dust. He came at Jet again, trying for a big left hook; it was easy to dodge and then clap Kane along the ear with his cupped hand. He’d never actually ruptured someone’s eardrum, but a huge clap of sound right next to an ear still never felt good.
The area around him had devolved into chaos. The Choppers had drawn weapons, and so had the former Red Runners. He heard shots fired, but the firefight seemed to be happening in another direction. He heard Bree scream Cat’s name again, and this time, the girl seemed to be able to move. She had ducked and tried to get out of range of the firefight already; it was no particular thing to run towards the car. Bree had swung the back door open; Cat dove in, and then Trish finally did what he’d goddamn said and peeled out of the quarry.
Kane was in rough shape – based on his two black eyes, his nose that had been broken during the first fight yesterday, and how he’d groaned around the jabs today like his ribs might have been cracked last night. He’d fallen to the ground on all fours, and he was coughing, spitting blood onto the ground.
Jet walked around and picked up the weapon Kane had dropped. He checked the chamber, then racked the slide. Kane had fallen onto his ass and was staring up, dazed. Jet wasn’t classless enough to actually press the barrel of the weapon into Kane’s head, but he made sure that small dark hole was the only thing Kane could focus on.
“One chance,” Jet said. He heard the rough sound in his voice, and he refused to believe that he was choked up. “You only get the one. You get out of town. You leave. You know that someone’s going to follow you and that if you ever hurt another woman – if you ever turn your gaze back towards me or my city again – that you won’t see it coming. Not like this time. Yes or no?”
He could hear Brass in his head, reminding him that this was weak, that letting Kane leave the club that night was weak, that not just doing it and getting it over with was weak. And maybe that was why it was time for him to leave the club and pass the responsibility on to someone else. He knew it was weak, but he didn’t mind it, somehow. If being weak was trying to give someone every chance to make right with themselves... he could live with being weak.
Kane spat a mouthful of blood on the ground near Jet’s boot. He was gasping with every breath; the odds that he was bleeding into his chest seemed high. They could call an ambulance. With medical attention, Kane might get through this, and it might be enough for him to get the counseling he’d needed since they’d come back stateside years ago.
“Fuck you,” Kane said. “Do it.”
Jet did.
Epilogue
There were few sounds as cool, as far as Jet was concerned, as his woman and his baby laughing together. He went down the hallway into the second bedroom that they’d made into the nursery. Bree was playing with Michael, their six-month-old son, before putting him down for a nap.
Bree had changed out of her cap and gown, but not the nice clothes she’d worn underneath. She hadn’t wanted to walk in the ceremony, but Jet had pushed her into it. She’d worked too hard not to be celebrated like that. Besides, he wanted an excuse to take her out to dinner.
“Hey,” Bree said, smiling at him over her shoulder. “Trisha here?”
“She’s on her way. You ready?”
“Yup. I just want to touch up my makeup before I go.”
Jet reached out his hands. “Let me take the baby. You go do what you want to get ready. Makes sense to go as soon as Trisha gets here.”
Bree laughed. “What, did you rent a motel room by the hour?”
“Considered it.” He couldn’t help letting his eyes course over her pretty figure. Her tits were gorgeous, heavier now than they’d been when he met her. They balanced out her thicker waistline, giving her an hourglass figure that he loved to sink his fingers into. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to make you scream.”
“Like you don’t love covering my mouth with your hand when I do.”
Lust flared between them. Bree grinned when she passed Michael to Jet, leaving him without a hand free to adjust his suddenly hard cock.
He took a long moment to enjoy his son before setting him in the crib. Michael stared up at him sleepily, waving his arms and legs before his eyes closed and he started to relax into sleep.
It was a pretty magical thing to see. It was everything Jet had hoped for and more.
***
Bree’s stomach fluttered as she touched up her eyeliner and freshened her lipstick. She and Jet had certainly been out a couple times since Michael was born, but this felt different. This wasn’t running down to the club and grabbing some hamburgers from Caroline; this was dinner out. He’d specifically mentioned that he’d bought a suit coat. Something was up.
She checked her phone before dropping it in her purse. Still no messages from Cat. Bree tried to let it go. She needed to accept that Cat
was gone from her life now. After the ordeal she’d been through with Kane, Cat’s parents had swooped in and taken Cat out of the city. Bree wasn’t sure where they’d landed, but the last time they’d messaged, Cat had said simply that her therapist thought it was harming Cat for her and Bree to continue to be in touch. That she’d get in touch when she was healthier, and it would be better for both of them.
And she hadn’t, not for seven months. Cat hadn’t even seen a picture of Michael.
As weird and crappy as their friendship had been, Bree still missed her.
Michael was asleep when Trisha got there. That was the plan; Michael was mostly sleeping through the night now, so Trish probably wouldn’t have anything to do except watch Netflix and order takeout.
“There’s one quick thing before we go, Trish,” Jet said. “You go ahead and settle in; I just need to grab something from our room.” Except what Jet grabbed was Bree’s arm. She laughed and tried jokingly to pull free, but the look on his face was perfectly clear. She was going nowhere except where he told her to go. And that was just fine. Trish laughed and waved at them.
In the bedroom, Jet shoved the door closed and turned Bree up against the wall. He didn’t waste a second; his cock was out and hard, and his fingers were working her wet cunt open in seconds.
“God, how are you always so wet for me,” he whispered against her mouth.
She groaned as he shoved a third finger in, spreading her wide. “You make me come so hard I can’t help but be wet,” she replied, gasping as he curled his fingers and sparked a wave of pleasure that ran through her.
He lifted her up just enough to place her on the tip of her cock, then drove in hard and fast. He had to cover her mouth; their sex had been gorgeous but quiet and soft for months. She’d been craving this kind of hard and fast fuck, and it was impossible not to remember that night he’d taken her virginity so hard she’d begged for more.
His rhythm was slow at first, a rise up into her and then lowering her down with him. His cock was angled so that it slid along her most sensitive spots inside, and she groaned with each motion. She had to cling to him, her arms shaking. One leg was wrapped around his waist, giving him the access he needed; the other was still on the floor, helping her balance. He ground his thumb into her clit while she clung to him, and he stayed silent. She felt the want vibrating through the trembling muscles of his back.
And then that slow rhythm wasn’t enough anymore. He let go of her clit and took her other leg. He heaved her up a bit, wrapping both legs around his waist and pulling her out just a bit so that her weight was braced against the wall. And then he railed her as hard as he could, drilling up into her. She had to bite the heel of her hand to keep from screaming.
The force of them made the bureau shake against the wall. Jet cursed; the last thing either of them wanted was for Trisha to come upstairs and investigate. He lifted her up and took her to the bed, her cunt still split by his cock. He tossed her down, repositioned, and fucked her hard as he stood at the edge of the bed. This meant he could get at her clit again, and Bree was consumed by the need for her pleasure.
They were both on the edge in moments. Bree shifted with him, riding him as he slammed into her, groaning hard as her orgasm got closer and closer. When she came, she buried her face into the side of Jet’s neck, trying hard to keep her harsh noises to a minimum. The squeeze of her cunt drove him over the edge, and he ground into her so hard that he set off another wave of pleasure. She arched on him, craving every single inch he could give her, her cunt surging around him over and over.
He set her down before he went too limp to stand, and held her softly against the wall. Her face was buried in his chest, and she couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. She straightened her clothes, and he wiped himself off before tucking his cock away.
“Believe it or not, that’s not why I wanted you up here,” Jet said.
Bree raised an eyebrow.
He walked over to the bureau and pulled out a small black box. He held it out to her without a lot of fanfare. “Look, I’m no poet. I’m bad at doing shit like getting down on one knee. That’s not particularly big. But if you’ll have me, Bree, I’ll be yours forever.” He laughed a little to himself. “I already am. It’s just a question of if you want me too.”
She opened the box and saw the small diamond on a white gold band.
“I wanted you to have that to wear tonight, if you want it.”
“Yeah, Jet.” Her voice was quiet and soft, and she heard the longing in her voice. This was a thing she’d never dreamed she’d actually have. “I want this.”
She took the ring out of the box and passed the box back to him. She slid the ring on her finger. They’d need to have it sized, but it was close enough for tonight.
“So that’s a yes?”
She had to laugh just a little at his face. He looked worried, as if “no” was a thing she’d ever considered. She hadn’t said “no” to him a single time since that gorgeous night.
“Yes, Jet. Yeah. I want to marry you.”
He pulled her into his arms, and she felt him harden again. She reached down to cup his cock with her hand and wondered idly if they’d make it out of the bedroom tonight at all.
She didn’t really mind either way.
***
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And then… keep reading for a sneak preview of Book 1 in the Outlaw MC Romance Collection – SILAS!
Sneak Preview of SILAS
Read on for a sneak preview of my first book, Silas!
Silas: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Death Knells MC)
Biker. Outlaw. Bad boy. Killer?
On his deathbed, my MC president made me swear to keep his daughter safe.
But marrying the girl is a dangerous mistake.
She’s in my house now – and I can’t keep my hands off of her.
Which is how she ended up pregnant with my baby.
JESSA
Silas has always done what he needed to do to survive.
But I could never be with a man whose hands are covered in innocent blood.
It doesn’t matter that he’d do anything to keep me safe.
I don’t need to be protected – I need to be free.
Free from pain.
Free from violence.
Free from my past.
But I’m trapped in a contradiction.
Because the only place I truly feel alive is on the back of Silas’s bike.
I can’t submit to this life.
I’ve got a bright future, far away from here.
At least, that’s what I used to think.
But now, every time Silas lays his hands on me…
Every time he takes me to his bed and shows me what my body craves…
I’m forced to admit:
I belong to him.
SILAS
Jessa tried to run away from the biker world.
But I jumped into the deep end.
I’ve done bad things in my time down here.
Robbed. Hurt. Killed.
All for the club. For my brothers.
But my sins have changed me. Marked me.
I can’t be near a woman anymore.
Especially not one as pure and innocent as Jessa.
If she gets too close…
There’s no telling what I might do to her.
Which is why this fake marriage is a huge mistake.
I swore to her father – my dying president – that I’d protect his only daughter.
But I never expected it to come to this:
Her walking through my house.
Sleeping in my bed.
And – God help us both – having my baby.
Chapter One
341 B. 341 B.
Jessa swallowed a sick knot in her throat as the room number ran through her mind. The h
ospital had too many damn hallways. She skidded to a stop in front of a plaque with room numbers pointing in opposite directions. The anxiety made it impossible to digest what she was seeing. She pressed a hand to her forehead.
341 B.
She hung a left, her legs feeling wooden as she remembered the phone call. One of the motorcycle club brothers. A guy she hadn’t seen in years – telling her she needed to come to the hospital ASAP. Her father had been shot.
Most times when a brother got shot, it didn’t even warrant a second glance.
If they had been instructed to call her, the estranged daughter of the Death Knells’ president, then it could only be bad.
Bad bad bad. 341 Bad.
