Son of a Beard

by Lani Lynn Vale

He had a really great smile.

  “My road name is Fender. I was two days into pledging as a prospect when I fell and hit my head on the fender of a car. I got this exciting little scar to commemorate it. The members haven’t let me live it down yet,” he chuckled to himself.

  “Watch out,” a man took my arm. The other prospect on my side.

  I looked down at the large hand guiding me around a huge rut in the dirt that would’ve made me bust my ass had he not moved me, and then back up at the other prospect.

  This one I didn’t know anything about, and I didn’t get the happy vibes off of him that I got off of Fender.

  No, this man was scary.

  Not in a ‘he’s going to kill me’ way, but in a ‘he could kill me if he wanted to’ kind of way.

  His name was Jessie James, and yes, that was his real name. I’d asked Truth that in the few words I’d allowed him this morning before he’d left.

  His answer had been short and sweet. “His name is Jessie James, we call him JJ for short. Please don’t tease him about his name. It brings up bad shit for him.”

  “Thank you, Jessie,” I said.

  “JJ,” he said deeply.

  Man, he had a very deep voice.

  “Y’all do realize that we’re going to get our asses kicked for this, right?” Fender asked as he opened the door to the station and ushered us inside.

  “They expected us to stop,” I told him. “Or at least they should have.”

  Fender gave me a wink.

  “We knew you’d stop,” he said. “That’s why there are four of us.”

  I refused to think that my man knew me that well…or that he was that considerate.

  But by the end of the night, when we were boarding our plane to Colorado, I realized that he was very considerate.

  Considerate enough to book me into first class, and considerate enough to know exactly when I was set to arrive in Colorado, and to have a freakin’ car there waiting.

  Yes, I decided. I did have a good one.

  I still had to teach him a few lessons about having a woman in his life, though.

  Chapter 17

  Life would be a lot more fun if everyone’s middle name was motherfuckin’.

  -Fact of Life

  Truth

  “That was the weirdest fucking visit I’ve had in my life,” I grunted. “Was there a reason for what happened there?”

  Ghost kept looking over his shoulder like he was a goddamned addict who’d stolen from a drug dealer. He was jumpy, his speech was rushed, and I was fairly sure that he was about to have an aneurysm if he continued to hold his breath like that.

  “What’s the deal, man?” I asked, stopping. “Are you okay?”

  He ignored me and kept walking, coming to a stop at the shadow of the airport entrance.

  “I thought I saw someone.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  He seemed to contemplate what he was going to say for a few short moments, then he answered shortly.

  “Nobody.”

  I looked behind me.

  “You’re so fuckin’ confusing.”

  Ghost’s mouth twitched, but he remained silent.

  I was set to continue to question him when a roar of motorcycles drowned out the still night air around us.

  Silas, the president of the Dixie Warden’s Benton, Louisiana chapter, shut off his bike and dismounted.

  His son, Sebastian, got off his as well and walked up to us.

  “Ghost, you got a minute?”

  Sebastian, who hadn’t seen Ghost behind me, froze, his eyes going so wide that it was nearly comical, before he opened his mouth to say something.

  “Not a fuckin’ word,” Silas growled. “We’ll talk later.”

  Sebastian’s mouth snapped shut, but his eyes remained on Ghost as he walked around the corner of the airport with Silas and disappeared.

  “You know,” I said to the big man. “I’d fuckin’ love to know what the hell is going on.”

  Sebastian’s lips twitched. “I would, too.”

  I had a feeling that he knew a whole lot more than I did, but who was I to argue? If I was meant to know, I’d know.

  “What’re y’all doing here?” I asked.

  We’d spent a full day with Silas, his son, and his other club members. We’d gotten zero accomplished.

  Another chapter was set to open up in Texas, and a few of the closest club members were meeting to see who wanted to help lead the new chapter.

  When no volunteers were forthcoming, a vote was taken.

  I wasn’t chosen.

  Because I was now married.

  Thank God for small things. Those who were married and already had lives established in their territories weren’t under consideration in those votes.

  Not to mention that I wasn’t moving to fucking Texas.

  I was an Alabama boy, born and bred, and I wasn’t big on moving to Texas, at all. Especially now that I had a wife to come home to.

  “At the time, I wasn’t aware of why we were coming. Now that I’m here, I see why.”

  His eyes stayed on where Silas and Ghost had disappeared, and I knew exactly what he was getting at.

  I was like Curious fucking George. I wanted to walk over there and see what the hell was going on, but I knew if I did, Silas or Ghost would kick my ass.

  I wasn’t a small man, not by any means, but those two motherfuckers were mean. Both of them had this dangerous aura that always seemed to surround them, and my life had been a lesson in knowing when not to fuck with something dangerous.

  Danger recognized danger after all.

  “Hey, could you make me a sword for my dad for Christmas?”

  I blinked, turning to find him standing almost directly next to me.

  “Sure,” I said. “Why?”

  He snorted.

  “Because my father has anything and everything he could ever imagine, and I saw that sword you gave to Torren last year. It was fucking sweet.”

  Pride in my work swelled in me, and I nodded once before heading to my bike.

  “Y’all’s boys are going to take these home, right?”

  Sebastian started to chuckle. “Yes. We have prospects for…”

  “No fucking prospect is going to touch my bike. You promise me that, motherfucker. I’ve already had one bitch fucking another cocksucker on my bike, and now I have to ride this one. If you take my spare out, then I’m boned.”

  Sebastian’s amused eyes turned to the bike.

  “I heard about that. But I also heard that you lucked out in the end.”

  I did.

  Fuckin’ A, I sure as hell did.

  “How’s your wife and kids doing?”

  “Busy,” he answered. “You’ll find out soon when you start having kids. Time seems to sped up. I swear it was just last month that my daughter was born, but now she’s a fucking hellion and I’m trying to keep up with her while she kicks a goddamn ball around the yard.”

  The thought of having kids didn’t scare the shit out of me like it once did. Now all it did was make me feel fucking happy inside, like a goddamn man that was finally happy with the life he now was living.

  And I guess, after contemplation, that was true. I was happy. I was happy to have Verity in my house, warming my bed. I liked the idea of her pregnant with our kids. I was actually looking forward to seeing her belly swell with my child growing inside of her.

  What I was really happy about, though?

  That was simple.

  The fact that she chose to stay with me. That she was putting the effort in, despite my attempts at trying to put distance between us. That, in all honesty, she was putting her life in my hands.

  She knew I’d keep her safe, and I would.

  I’d fight until my dying breath to keep her safe.

  That didn’t mean that I wanted to do that…that I wanted to put her into a position where I would have to do
that, but if it came down to it, and I had to give my life for hers, I’d do it. Because my life for hers seemed like one hell of a trade.

  Chapter 18

  I couldn’t help but notice that I would like to have sex with you on a regular basis.

  -A note from Verity to Truth

  Verity

  I woke up to lips on my neck.

  Hands on my body.

  A cock working its way inside of me.

  But it was okay. I didn’t panic, even when that huge cock shifted, going from partially inside of me to all the way inside of me in a matter of seconds.

  I gasped and turned my face, burying it deeply in the bend of Truth’s neck.

  “Truth!” I gasped against his skin, my legs tightening around his hips.

  How he had gotten this far into the process without me waking was questionable, but when he started to move his hips, tiny slight movements that let me know just how far and deep he was inside of me, I lost my ability to think coherently.

  “You’re awake,” came his deep rumbly voice against my ear. “Took you long enough.”

  I bit his neck, and his hips jerked, making me smile.

  He growled roughly, then clenched onto my hips with both hands as he started to fuck me harder and faster than I’d ever been fucked before.

  Gone were the slow, sensuous movements and in their place was the familiar rough, erratic need that always seemed to come from the both of us.

  I was seconds away from coming when Truth started to speak. He didn’t stop…just interrupted.

  “Baby.”

  I shook my head, my eyes rolling into the back of my skull.

  “Baby.”

  Someone was knocking on the door. That’s what must be causing him to stop. To slow his pace.

  That orgasm that I could feel on the verge of breaking through slowly started to dissipate.

  Why was he trying to talk in a moment like this? Why not just finish? Fuck whoever was at the door.

  “Verity.”

  He growled, low and deep, and I opened my eyes. To…nothing?

  The knocking still remained, though, leaving me to question what exactly was going on. Clearly, I’d been having some happy time as evidenced by my hand down my pants. I’d also been tossing and turning because my linens and comforter were down by my feet. Half on, half off, the bed.

  The knocking sounded again, and I plucked my hand from my panties, jackknifed out of bed, and nearly tripped on my shoes that I’d left on the floor.

  Once catching myself, I grabbed my sleep pants that I’d discarded near the wall, and slipped them on before reaching for the lock on the door.

  The moment I got it open, I found the door pushed open, and my back against the wall with two hundred and forty pounds of man flesh in my hands.

  “Fuck, but I missed you.”

  And this time, everything that happened was more than real.

  By the time he showed me just how real, I was on the floor with my head halfway under the bed. The pretty chevron bed skirt was covering half my face, and I found myself wondering if this was how life was going to go for me from now on.

  Were we always going to have sex this good? Was Truth just some sex master who just knew how to manipulate women’s bodies or were we special?

  My hope was that we were special together.

  “I’m sorry.”

  His sincere apology had me blinking in surprise.

  “What?” I asked, startled.

  He pulled out of me, slapped a towel on my vagina, and yanked me out from under the bed by my hips.

  I gasped, the carpet burning my back and ass, and glared.

  “Ouch,” I snapped. “Gently, motherfucker.”

  He snorted.

  “I said, I’m sorry,” he repeated again.

  “Why?” I asked suspiciously.

  “What do you mean, why?”

  His brows lowered, and he looked at me for a few long seconds before sighing and offering me his hand.

  I took it, and he hauled us both up by our feet at the same time.

  The man was amazingly in shape, and I felt like a lard ass next to him.

  But he didn’t seem to care about my lard, nor my carpet burned ass.

  His eyes were worried, and I waited for him to say whatever it was he was trying not to say.

  “I’m not very good at this husband thing,” he admitted finally.

  I waited for more, but none was forthcoming.

  Leaning to the side so I could waddle and hold the towel at the same time, I walked to the bathroom and cleaned myself up before responding.

  “I’m not very good at being a wife.”

  He snorted and followed close behind me.

  “We’re going to bungle through this together then,” he said as he gathered my naked body into his.

  “What was the meeting in Louisiana about?” I asked, curious as hell to see what he would say.

  Would he tell me the truth? I already had the truth…at least what I knew to be the truth. Jessie—no JJ—had told me that it was some meeting about moving to Texas and starting a new chapter.

  I wondered if he had been assigned to there. JJ had also told me that the decision wouldn’t be their call. If they were asked to go, they’d have to go.

  And I kind of wanted to.

  There was nothing holding me here. I didn’t have a job—not really. Sure, Truth was currently keeping me employed, but it wasn’t like it was something that I really needed to be there for. I was there as moral support. The pub ran like a well-oiled machine, and I was sure if I left, they wouldn’t notice I was missing.

  They hadn’t in that week I’d been gone and avoiding Truth.

  In fact, I’d gotten there to check over our incoming merchandise lists, and it’d already been done. Nobody would tell me directly, but I assumed it was Truth who’d done it because nobody else had the files and passwords to get in but him—the same person to give me them in the first place.

  “It’s been decided to open up a new chapter in Texas, and we were asked for volunteers to see who would like to go up there and start it. The volunteers wouldn’t have to stay, but it would be something that would last about six to eight months while the club established its roots and made sure everything was smoothed out in the city before we pulled out and left the remaining members to carry on without us,” Truth offered without hesitation.

  “And did you volunteer?” I asked hesitantly.

  He shook his head and reached for his jeans.

  “Fuck no,” he said as he slid them on.

  He didn’t bother with a shirt. And he barely bothered with his pants seeing as he didn’t worry to do up the belt.

  The pants hung low on his hips. So low, in fact, that his happy trail and those little indents on either side of his groin were showing, making me wonder if it was possible to go again after the orgasm that I’d just had.

  And as I watched him bend and twist, moving about the room as he unloaded his pocket and got rid of his belt, I realized that yes, it was indeed possible to go again in such a short amount of time.

  I knew he knew how I was feeling, too. The way he watched me watch him had me nearly reaching for his pants—if I hadn’t been interrupted by another freakin’ knock on the door.

  “This is ridiculous,” I groaned. “How fucking hard is it to let a woman sleep in?”

  I hadn’t been able to sleep in in over a decade.

  The job at the newspaper had practically forced me into being an early riser whether I wanted to be or not.

  “That would be our breakfast,” he grinned.

  I grabbed the first thing I saw, which happened to be Truth’s t-shirt, and slipped it on over my head before sitting down on the bed and pulling up my discarded covers.

  My anger at being interrupted disappeared just as fast as it rose, leaving me wondering what that secret smile was on his face.

  What wa
s he smiling about?

  The answer came really quickly as he opened the door, smiled at some woman who I hadn’t met the night before and took the tray of food the woman was holding out to him.

  She was an older woman with graying brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a sharp intellect that told me she knew exactly what she’d interrupted, and what we’d been doing in here all morning.

  “Thank you, Millie,” Truth said to the woman.

  The woman smiled at that husband of mine like she knew him, flicked a glance my way, and then left without a word.

  “Who was that?” I asked as I threw the covers off and walked toward the door where Truth had placed the tray of food on the entryway table.

  “That,” he said, lifting the lid off the plates and tossing them carelessly to the ground in the way only a man could, and waved his hands at the feast before him like he’d made the shit himself.

  “Voila!” he said. “Does this make me a better husband yet?”

  The way he was smiling at me like he’d just uncovered the Holy Grail had a grin playing at my lips.

  “Yeah,” I agreed readily, “it does.”

  He winked at me, causing my smile to widen, and brought the huge stack of pancakes to the bed and placed them on the mattress before going back for the syrup.

  I bit my lip when he poured it on so thickly that it nearly ran off the plate.

  “Holy shit,” I said. “I hope that’s yours and not mine.”

  I eyed the plate, waited for it to roll off the edge, but it never did.

  It was like he put this much syrup on every time he had pancakes, and knew just the exact amount needed to satisfy him.

  “It’s mine,” he said. “Though, I guess if I were a better husband, I would’ve allowed you to use the syrup first.”

  I rolled my eyes and decided that since he was in such a good mood, I wanted to ask him something that the ladies and I had discussed last night while we’d driven to Tommy’s parents’ place.

  “I want to take engagement pictures,” I broached the subject carefully. Because I knew if I worded this wrong, he would totally say no. Truth was like that with his looks. They were beautiful, and wonderful, and they were all part of the reason he hated his dad—because he looked just like him. Part of the reason he’d had such a shitty childhood.