He Doesn’t Care: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Motorcycle Club Romance (Fourstroke Fiends MC)

by Naomi West

  The letter had informed her that Bethany had left Honey as the sole beneficiary of her property and of her life insurance policy. The amount left to her was in the hundreds of thousands, and the letter had let her know that the lawyer and Honey would soon need to meet in order to get the process in motion. When she’d finally met with the lawyer, he’d handed over a note with the rest of the information, a note written by Bethany.

  It read that Honey was the closest thing to family that she’d had, and that if anything happened to her, she wanted Honey to have everything so she could start a new life far away from the one that had taken so much from Bethany. Once the reality of the situation set in, Honey had set to work putting the money to good use, buying a new car, putting a down payment on a house in a good neighborhood, and investing the rest.

  As Honey drove, she teared up just as she did whenever she thought of what Bethany had done for her. And just as always, she vowed to live the sort of life that her friend would be proud of.

  Soon, Honey pulled up to the charming two-story home in the quiet suburb where she now lived. And in the driveway, she spotted Grit’s big chrome bike, a small smile forming on her face as she realized that her love was already there and waiting for her. Honey parked, got Elise out, and headed into the house, but not before looking around at the gorgeous, peaceful neighborhood and smiling contentedly.

  She opened the door, and there on the couch, a cup of steaming coffee in front of him, was Grit.

  “Hey, baby,” he said, getting up. “Or babies.”

  Honey smiled and her heart sang just as it always did when she saw Grit. He came over to her, kissed her deeply, and turned his attention to Elise.

  “There’s the little princess,” he said, wagging his finger in front of her. “I swear, she looks more like her mother by the day.”

  “Are you kidding?” asked Honey. “She’s the spitting image of you.”

  “Well,” said Grit, standing back up. “Let’s hope that she doesn’t end up with tattoos and a beard one of these days.”

  He looked away for a moment, then spoke.

  “Why don’t you put down,” he said. “I need some alone time with my lady.”

  “All right, give me a second.”

  After placing Elise in her crib in the nursery, Honey found Grit waiting for her in the bedroom.

  “Come here, sweet thing,” he said, pulling her close.

  Grit kissed her deeply again; this time the passion that he’d been holding back broke through. Honey fell into the kiss, closing her eyes and focusing on the feeling of Grit’s lips on hers. Grit went to work on her clothes, peeling Honey out of her gym wear and getting her down to nothing but her bra and panties. Honey sighed as he kissed her all over, thinking just how he seemed to be just as in love with her body as he’d been the first time they’d made love.

  Honey slipped her hands under Grit’s shirt and slipped it off of his body, revealing his tattooed, toned physique. She kissed him along his collarbone, her hands moving along the hard lines of his muscles. After a little time working on his belt, she had him down to nothing but his skintight, gray boxer briefs. An aroused thrill rushed through her body as she laid eyes on his hard cock through his underwear, and she wanted nothing more than to have him inside of her right then and there.

  Grit seemed to be thinking the same thing. Laying her back on the bed behind them, he slipped Honey out of her bra and panties, climbing on top of her and positioning his cock right over her sex. He kissed her all over, paying special attention to her nipples and hips. Honey hurriedly got Grit out of his underwear, his massive prick jumping out at her as it always did.

  “Goddamn,” said Grit, looking over his woman. “You’re just about the most fucking gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  “You always say that,” she said, “but I never get tired of hearing it.”

  “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true,” said Grit.

  He looked deep into her eyes for a long moment.

  “I love you, Honey,” he said. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  Honey’s heart warmed at his words.

  “And I love you too, baby.”

  With that, Grit took his cock into his hand and slid it gently inside of Honey. She moaned as he entered her, filling her inch by inch with the prick that she couldn’t get enough of. Once he was fully sheathed within her, he held fast for a moment, and Honey savored the feeling of being filled full with the man she loved. Making love with someone she cared for was something she’d never known before Grit, and it was like nothing else she’d ever experienced.

  Soon, Grit began moving in Honey. He started off slowly at first, slipping his arm under her back and holding her close as he made love to her. Honey’s eyes went wide and she gasped and moaned as he entered her over and over, penetrating her again and again. Honey’s hands moved down Grit’s body, taking in the sensual feeling of his solid, muscular body. He was all man, and Honey never grew weary of the sight of him on top of her, his muscles bulging and tensing with each thrust.

  Honey realized that she was going to cum soon, and hard. Grit’s thrusts slowly built into a steady pounding, the kind of deep plunges that never failed to being Honey right to the brink, hold her there, and then push her over the edge and right into sweet oblivion.

  “Oh, I’m gonna cum, baby,” said Honey, her hands on Grit’s taut hips, guiding him deeper and deeper into her.

  “You gonna cum for me, baby?” he asked, his voice gruff and stern. “Tell me who you cum for.”

  “Only you—oh God—only you, baby.”

  With that, Honey’s orgasm exploded through her, the feeling like blissful, divine fire rushing through her body. The orgasm seized her, taking complete control of every muscle in her body and filling them with total pleasure. Well into the grips of her orgasm, Grit came, shuddering and groaning as he emptied himself into her. The pleasure lasted for several long, sweet moments, and once they were done, Grit leaned in and kissed Honey tenderly. She still couldn’t get over just how safe and loved she felt with him. She never wanted to lose the feeling.

  After a little time catching their breath, Grit got up and out of bed.

  “What’s the rush?” asked Honey, rolling over onto her side.

  “Celebrating,” he said with a grin as he stepped back into his jeans and underwear.

  Honey watched with a smile as he started out of the room.

  “Come on,” he said. “Meet you out on the back porch.”

  He disappeared into the hallway, and Honey, still smiling, got out of bed and into some simple clothes. She walked through the lovely hallways of her home, checking in on Elise as she did and seeing that the little girl was sleeping peacefully. She scooped her up into arms, taking care not to wake her.

  Heading downstairs, she heard the pop of a champagne bottle open in the kitchen, and stepping inside of the room, she arrived just in time to see Grit step out onto the back porch. Honey followed him out there and saw that he was standing on the deck, the long, green expanse of the backyard stretching out before him. He offered Honey a glass, and she happily took it.

  “So,” said Grit. “It’s over. They got the bastards, and now that they’re behind bars, we can rest easy.”

  Honey nodded, pleased to hear that the danger was finally gone. Still, she couldn’t help but think about what she really wanted, which was for Grit to move in with her so they could finally become a real family.

  “You look less than happy,” said Grit.

  “No,” said Honey. “I mean, I am—I really am.”

  Honey had always been loath to bring up the subject, but now she realized she couldn’t put it off any longer. She needed to know just what Grit wanted. Because she knew what she did.

  “I want you to move in,” she said, gathering her courage. “I know you want to keep Elise and me safe, and I respect that. But a father not living with his woman and baby … it’s not right.”

  Grit looked away an
d nodded, considering her words. Finally, he spoke.

  “The danger that I wanted to keep you away from ended as soon as the cops moved in. I’ve been working with the Vandals, putting together evidence that could be used to lock those bastards up. And I hate the idea of working with the cops, but I knew it was either that, or all-out war. So, once the case was made, the boys and I slipped it over to one of our contacts in the PD, and that was all they needed to move in.”

  “Then … all of this was because of you?”

  “Me and the crew, yeah,” he said. “And I did it all so you and Elise would be safe. And now it’s done.”

  A moment passed.

  “And … now there’s no reason we can’t be together. For real. And there no reason I can’t give you this.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black box. Honey gasped when she realized what it was. He flicked it open, and sure enough, it was a beautiful diamond ring, the stone glittering in the afternoon sun.

  “Honey, will you marry me?”

  Honey didn’t even need a second. Still holding Elise, she threw her free arm around Grit and hugged him.

  “Of course,” she said, tears in her eyes. “Of course.”

  Grit smiled and slipped the ring on her finger.

  “Now we definitely have to toast.”

  “I agree.”

  They clinked their glasses and Honey brought the crisp, refreshing wine to her lips and took a sip. Looking out over the backyard of the home she now shared with Grit, her baby in her arms, she realized that she’d never before been this happy in her life. And she was more than ready for whatever was to come next, her lover at her side.

  THE END

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  Baby Blues: Satan Seed MC

  By Naomi West

  I’VE GOT THE PERFECT CURE FOR HER BABY BLUES.

  Putting my baby inside her will be heavenly.

  But keeping them both alive will be hell on earth.

  I’ll put my life on the line to keep my woman and our child safe from harm.

  The only question is…

  Will that be enough?

  Chapter One

  Blue

  Blue Jasper slowly pulled her tattoo instruments from the sterilizer, taking several deep breaths before she turned back to her client. “Take a look in the mirror. Make sure everything is the way you want it.”

  Rat took the hand mirror from her and examined his upper arm, then got up out of the tattoo chair to check it out in the full-length mirror on the wall. His piggy eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the stencil, his mouth twitching amongst his scraggly facial hair. He had asked her for a flaming skull, and she had dutifully drawn it in marker amidst his other tattoos of spiderwebs and half-naked women. He flexed his muscles in the mirror and grinned with crooked teeth. “You should count yourself lucky. It’s not just any tattoo artist that I trust with this sort of thing.”

  She nodded but said nothing. If she’d had it her way, she never would have tattooed him at all. But if there was one thing she had learned in this business, it was that she couldn’t pick and choose her art or the canvases she put it on. There were always young girls who wanted silly tramp stamps and guys who really thought they needed their girlfriend’s names on their chests. The only good thing about those clients was that they almost always came back to have their tattoos covered, and that just meant more money for her. It had been a great start to her tattoo career, if not the most creative one.

  Blue had earned a name for herself, though, and she was far past drawing little butterflies and tiny names. She was often commissioned for large, custom pieces that folks couldn’t get elsewhere, and her calendar at Spencer’s Shop was booked solid for at least six months. She never had to look for work, and that at least was something she could be grateful for. It was more than she had thought would happen for her working at an off-the-path tattoo shop that didn’t attract celebrity clients or the wealthy. There would be no television shows made about Spencer’s Shop, but it was clean and it had a steady clientele. Blue hadn’t gone hungry in over two years.

  Unfortunately, she was at the whim of guys like Rat, who had plenty of money to toss around and plenty of time to sit in the chair. Blue had heard he was part of a biker gang, something that didn’t sit well with her, and that idea was confirmed by the large men in leather vests who insisted on hanging out while she did her work. They lounged in the chairs in the corner of her booth, getting up and going outside at regular intervals to smoke, and reeking of the stuff when they returned.

  Rat sat back down in the chair and pointed a thick finger at his buddies. “Which one of you is gonna be next? I can’t be the only one who’s getting inked tonight!”

  A slim man with fiery red hair that he kept slicked back against his skull shrugged his shoulders. His vest accentuated his skinny shoulders. “Looks like you’ll have to be. You’ve got the best artist in town working on you, and the other guy here says he has appointments. I told him we’d pay double, but I guess nobody around here wants our hard-earned money.” He rolled his eyes toward the other side of the shop.

  “Why would you want him to work on you anyway, Flame? I’d rather have a sexy little mama like that bending over me.” This man, a short and burly sort with a buzzed scalp, eyed Blue’s ample chest and waggled his eyebrows. He took a slug from a beer bottle and continued to leer.

  She did her best to ignore him. Blue felt that tattoos were a personal thing. Whatever you got inked on your body should mean something to you or represent something you’d gone through in your life. But people these days just wanted to get them because they thought tattoos were cool, and they liked to make a spectator sport out of it. What could a flaming skull mean to Rat, anyway?

  With her ink caps ready to go and Rat’s skin sterilized, she reached forward with gloved hands and began running her first line.

  “Stubble’s right,” Rat agreed, his eye twitching slightly as the needle vibrated in and out of his skin. “This chick is worth all the money I pay her. Just like any other woman, am I right? They’re only good for something if you’re paying them.” He roared with laughter, slapping his thigh with his free hand.

  Blue immediately pulled back, wiping the extra ink from his skin and relieved to see that he hadn’t messed up her work. “Please sit still.” She didn’t want to know about the kind of women Rat paid, nor what he paid them to do. She couldn’t imagine having to be intimate with a man like that. He smelled bad enough just being in the same room with him, much less in bed with him. Blue just wanted to get it over with and move on.

  “Yeah, baby. I’ll do whatever you say,” Rat laughed. The scent of alcohol was thick on his breath. “Hey, I think I have some ideas for my next tat. You can fit me in next week, right? I’ve got cash burning in my pocket, and I want to spend it all on you.”

  She pressed her lips together and focused on her job, finishing the line along the top of the skull and dipping the needle back in the ink cup. His comment was supposed to be flattering, but it wasn’t. She knew there would be no way she could get him in again that soon, even if she wanted to. There was a line out the door of people waiting on her work, and it wasn’t fair she had to waste any of that time on scum like this guy. Other customers wanted good work, the kind that could get her into magazines. A dumb flaming skull on a biker was just more of the flash crap that anybody could churn out.

  “I’ll have to check my schedule. What do you want?” At least if they talked about tattoos, they weren’t talking about her body.

  “I think it’s about time I finish my other sleeve. What I have there is good, but it needs something more, something to really finish it o
ff and make people look at it. I was thinking I’d get a tat of you, naked, riding a big cock. You’d be the perfect person to put it on me. What do you think?”

  “I think you need to find a different artist,” she replied calmly, reminding herself once again that she just had to get through this session and then it would be time to go home. Spencer’s Shop stayed open later than most of the other tattoo shops around did anymore, and it was mostly because of men like Rat that the other places had started keeping earlier hours. Nobody wanted to deal with the bikers. Let people take off work if they wanted tattoos so badly.

  “Okay, then just act it out for me,” Rat breathed. “I’ve got a big cock right here for you to ride. I’ll even pay you the same rate.”

  Her face burned as she tried to come up with the right retort. She couldn’t let him get away with such a remark; she didn’t get paid enough for that. But Blue knew he was watching her. He wanted to get a rise out of her, to make her angry. It probably amused him.