Mike (Devil's Tears MC Book 2)
Page 2
I crush her lips with mine and wrap my arms around her trembling body. Our breaths are as one. Our bodies merge.
Our paths are crossing in the most unimaginable way as though a bright star has descended and is bathing in the endless gloomy ocean.
Daisy’s so beautifully soft to touch, delicate. So strangely mine. We kiss deeper, our tongues entangled, dancing. I run my hands up her outer thighs and then I touch her round ass, drawing her even closer to me.
No fucking way. She’s Zane’s daughter. Something stiffens inside me and I pull back as Daisy sways and raises her hands then freezes like a sculpture.
I jump on my bike.
“Stay, Mike. Please, stay.” A delicate rasping tinges her voice.
“No.”
“I’ve always loved you. Stay. I need you.”
“That’s your fucking problem not mine.”
I rev up the engine and shoot into the dark.
Daisy
He is going to kill me.
I’ve emptied the fuel tank of his bike and I’ve punctured one of the tyres.
I’m sitting on the floor in front of my granny, Rey, and she passes the blanket on to me.
“Thank you, granny,” I say and she flashes me a warm smile.
I’m shaking but not from cold. From fear.
I’ve waited for him for four long years. Four grey suffocating years.
He calls sometimes but it’s not enough to see him on the screen.
I raise my hand and glide my fingers over my lips. They are still tingling from his kiss. My cheeks are still burning from his facial hair.
He kissed me. Not on the cheek. On my mouth like I was a woman to him. And I want more. I love him so much. He’s my werewolf. I’m his mate. I am, I’m sure. Auntie Sive always draws Mike as a werewolf and I’m a wolf puppy on her drawings.
Raised male voices come to my ears and I shrink into myself. Mike walks into the room and his amber eyes sweep over me. Fury is burning in his glance. He threads his fingers through his short black hair and corrects his cut.
“Sit down,” my mom says. “You can’t go anywhere now. You’ll change the tyre tomorrow.”
My uncles guffaw and wave their hands for Mike to join them. A tiny hand strokes my hair and I turn my face. My granny smiles at me mischievously. It was her idea to puncture the tyre and empty the fuel tank.
Only she knows my secret. I didn’t even tell my mom. She would be furious if she knew about my crush on Mike. They kind of like each other, but my mom always snorts when she mentions his alcoholic past. She wants me to study and she expects me to never grow up.
My granny—that’s a different story. She knows all my secrets. We’ve been two best friends since forever.
And Sol. She’s my best friend too.
Sol drops onto the floor beside me and I cover her with the blanket. We embrace as Rey strokes my head then hers.
Maria offers us her biscuits and we eat them as Rey lays her hands on our shoulders.
“I missed you,” Sol says.
“I missed you more,” I say.
She chuckles with a full mouth. “Visit me.”
“I will, I promise.”
Chapter 2
Mike
One glance at her and I have my answer. I will kill her. No—
I will smack her ass and it won’t be only once. An image enters my head. Daisy is naked, on all fours and I’m smacking her ass with my hand until it’s red.
My dick grows hard at once.
More fantasies enter my mind. Daisy is on her knees and she’s sucking me. Then she’s on all fours again and I’m fucking her in the ass. She’s moaning and pleading for my cock to punish her harder.
Shame surges through me. I held her in my arms when she was a baby.
I need a drink. Or a few drinks in one go.
Or something powerful enough to erase Daisy away from my sight.
Rey looks at me like she can see my soul. She tilts her head and strokes Daisy’s head. Fucking hell. They look like a witch and her young apprentice. It’s fucking creepy.
I decide to join Axel and Jax and get drunk. Axel pours me a shot of vodka, and I empty it in one gulp. My stomach twists with nausea.
Axel grins at me. “You’re rusty, Mike.”
“You’re even uglier than I remember.”
Jax guffaws and gulps his shot. “What’s wrong with your bike?”
“Somebody punctured the tyre,” I say.
“The kids don’t do such things,” Axel says.
“Oh really?” I say. “Daisy did that.”
“Daisy does such things,” Jax says. “She broke my son’s nose, remember? When he was six.”
“Your son cut off her ponytail,” Axel says.
“Your daughter is no better, Axel,” Jax continues. “Your daughter stole my daughter’s favourite teddy bear and broke her little finger. Your daughter made Gunner Junior drunk when he was twelve?”
Jax is very sensitive about his kids and kids in general.
I decide to go to the basement and get drunk in solitude. A bottle of vodka swings in my hand as I rise to my feet and move towards the corridor. Brianna passes me but then backs up, gripping my arm.
“Tired?” she asks.
“Sort of.”
“Your room is ready. Have a shower. Go to bed.”
“Thank you for your permission, mommy.”
“I’m just trying to take care of my guest.”
“Thank you.”
“I heard you got divorced.” She flashes me a smile of pity.
I love her as I love every woman in the family, but from a long distance. I love her through my messenger; I love her postcards and her phone calls. I love her photo in my wallet—the photo of my whole family.
I nod. “Finally.”
“Carrie’s friend—“
“No, thank you, mommy, I’m alright.” I notice Sive who’s listening to our conversation. “You, the other mommy, what are you looking at?”
Sive giggles and raises her hand to sign. “Nice to see you. We missed you.”
I send her a smile and notice the third mommy. Athena approaches us and puts her hands on her hips.
“You’re single again,” Athena says. “I have a friend—“
“Jesus,” I growl. “You’re like three killer-flies.”
The three of them erupt into laughter and I escape from them as fast as possible. I open the brown ornate door leading to the basement and go down the stairs. The voices of the kids enjoying their company hit my ears. Fuck. My solitude is not achievable. Not in this house. This house is for the people who like being squeezed like sardines in a can. For the people who love bouncing off one another with every step. For the people who like getting tired of chatting and drinking. Hell yeah. We love this circus. We start missing one another when we go back to our scattered forgotten lives.
Memories flash through my head—streaks of smoke, gunshots, petrified Sol, crying Daisy, Gunner Junior with a gun in his hand—the Voronin Bratva came and smashed us. They stripped us of our life, forced us to go into hiding, and marked all the kids for life.
I feel my throat tighten. I’d die for all the kids. I’ve never been a good uncle, but I’m sober when I wish them a happy birthday. I reprimand them when they’re naughty.
I enter the large room as my eyes flick over all the kids scattered among the punch bags, the training mats and the pool tables. The strip lights on the ceiling give their faces a corpse-like tinge. Bottles of beer are strewn along the wall. The flat screen in the corner flashes with the images from a live concert and the music hurts my ears. Yep, I’m old.
Axel’s son, Hawk, is playing snooker with Zane’s son, Tyler. Carrie’s sons are flirting with the younger version of Sive, Sol. Jax’s kids are smoking weed.
“Hey,” I yell at them. “Get rid of that shit. You know the rules in this house. No shit in the house.”
“Sorry,” Aphrodite squeaks and tramples the joint with her high
heel. “Only one joint, Mike.” She looks like a startled chicken.
“I don’t give a shit,” I say. “No joints, cigarettes or other shit.”
Takis, Jax’s son, approaches me and we shake hands.
“No shit in this house, I mean it.” I say firmly. “And you’re responsible for ensuring this,” I add and Takis salutes me.
“Mike,” a squeaky voice says behind me.
Of course, my personal rat is following me like a shadow.
I turn to face Daisy. “What?”
“Can we talk?” Daisy says in a faltering voice.
“About the tyre and the fuel tank?” I thread my fingers through my hair. Daisy cringes into herself as I grab her arm. “Let’s talk then.” I drag her behind me through the arched passage and along the narrow corridor and then into my en-suite bedroom.
Every member of our club has their own room in this house. Mine is between Blaze’s and Jax’s. The majority of the kids sleep in the basement too.
Daisy pulls away from me and hugs herself as I slam the door shut.
“Sit down,” I say. “I need to take a shower first. Then we will talk about my bike and about the punishment.”
She bobs her head at me and drops into the armchair that stands opposite the double bed covered with a patchwork bed throw. “I’m sorry.” Her voice trembles as she puts her hands neatly on her lap as a good girl would.
“I have an idea how to punish you,” I say.
Daisy’s eyes widen with fear. Her chin trembles. Her lips form an ‘o’. I can picture myself in my mind with my dick in her mouth, balls deep. She’d gag and she’d swallow every drop of my cum.
“Don’t go anywhere. You’ll be very sorry when I finish with you.” I remove my cut and t-shirt and toss them onto the bed then grab a towel from the cupboard and go to the bathroom.
As I strip and step into the shower cabin, I fight the urge to return to Daisy, grab her and have a shower with her.
My dick is so hard it hurts.
Daisy
I inhale deeply as the images of his naked muscular chest bombard my mind. He’s so enormous, so hairy. So primal. I shake. I melt. I almost faint. Fever surges through me.
He said he’d punish me.
He’ll talk to my dad and they’ll send me to the nuns’ coven. Yeah, Dimitri could suggest that. I’d be grounded even more than I’m now.
Or maybe Mike will tell me he will never visit us again.
I don’t want to hear this from him, so I decide to be a coward. I leave Mike’s room on my tiptoes and go upstairs. Uncles are getting drunk. Mom and Aunties are tidying up so I go to my bedroom to unpack all the presents. My heart hammers in my chest. My head pulsates.
Mike looks like I remember him, a hairy werewolf exuding this alluring aura. He smells so manly, so right. His appearance is still present in my mind, and his scent is still lingering in my nostrils. These stimuli wake something dark and dangerous inside me.
I had admired him my whole childhood. Now I desire him like a woman desires a man.
The presents are beautiful, but I can’t focus on enjoying them.
I go to the bathroom to have a bath, then I lie down on my bed and think about Mike. I hear all the guests dispersing into their rooms and a peaceful silence takes possession of the house.
The door creaks open and I see Sol embraced by the streak of light from the corridor. She moves towards my bed and dives under the duvet, clinging to me.
“You smell like a brewery, Sol.”
“Just two beers, relax.”
“And some vodka?”
“One shot. I wish I could be such a saint as you.” She rolls on her side.
I hear her inhale deeply then I hear her retch.
“The bowl is in the bathroom,” I say. “Don’t throw up over my duvet.”
She crawls off the bed and darts to the bathroom.
I hear her moans and retches.
Chapter 3
Mike
I step out of the bathroom and she’s not in the room. I guess I scared her enough. Good. Maybe she’ll decide to stay away from me so something like our kiss won’t happen again.
It’s her fault. She shouldn’t have grown up.
In fact, I shouldn’t have noticed she’d grown up.
I fall onto the mattress, removing the towel and tossing it over the radiator. My eyes search for the bottle of vodka, but I finally decide to get some sleep instead.
The bedside lamp fills the room with a dim light as I roll on my other side and rest my head against my forearm.
A visit in a whorehouse would do me good. Tomorrow I’ll go there, have two girls and lose myself if only for a moment.
Lizzie’s wide eyes flash through my head, followed by the dead faces of the people I killed. I’d killed Lizzie even though she’s alive, has the kind of life. But most of all, I killed the trust my club had in me. I don’t deserve to be around them even though they’re unaware of what I did.
A few memories of my marriage course through my head. A sense of failure fills my chest. I didn’t love her. I didn’t even try to love her. Maybe it’s my fault, not her bitchy attitude.
I check my phone. It’s 1 am. The house is quiet.
I sit on the bed, with one knee bent.
I feel so damn very lonely. Lonely like never before. I want someone to take this suffocating heaviness away from me if only for a moment.
No—
I want to fuck an attractive pussy my age. Two attractive pussies my age. Two experienced pussies.
I lie on my back and hold my hard cock. I stroke myself up and down, thinking of a wet cunt. I want to think of a whore’s cunt, but this is Daisy’s cunt I’m fucking in my mind. I’d have her on all fours. I’d push the thickest possible dildo into her pussy and I’d fuck her in the ass.
My body stiffens as a wave of liberating heat shoots to my toes and I cum with a growl.
Then I’m so fucking angry I want to kill.
I’ll get that little rat out of my head no matter what it takes.
Daisy
We settle ourselves around the table to have breakfast. My glance meets Mike’s who’s seated between my dad and Axel.
Gunner Junior piles the plate with food for Sol and fills her glass with apple juice. Our glances meet and he flashes me his cocky grin. I stifle the urge to stick my tongue out. He averts his eyes and his face softens the moment he looks at Sol. I could have sworn that he is still in love with her.
Sol leans towards Shay and whispers something into his ear. Those two will get married soon, I’m sure. The air of love surrounds them like a cloud.
I raise my eyes to meet Mike’s cold glance. My body shivers. I dip my spoon into my bowl, but nausea courses through my stomach.
“Hawk,” Axel says, “and Nikko. Take care of Mike’s bike.” His eyes bore through me. “And make sure no mysterious being punctures the tyre again.”
My dad winks at me and Rey rolls her eyes.
“Aye, sir,” the boys say with one voice.
“The others to church,” my dad says.
“Aye, Prez,” all the men say with one voice.
I love the tingle of crude seriousness when they’re the Shadow Wolves MC and my mom, grandmothers and aunties are their old ladies.
I want to be Mike’s old lady, but unfortunately he wants to kill me not marry me.
Shay leans towards me. “You okay, Birdie?”
“I’m fine, Shay,” I say. “Thanks.”
Shay is the kindest of my cousins. We’re not related by blood, but he is like my brother. He’s a better brother than my own brother, Tyler.
It seems like I’m Tyler’s enemy number one. We’ve been fighting since I remember.
I must admit he smashed a kid who kicked me when we were kindergarten age and he found me when I got lost in the graveyard at the age of seven.
“Visit us soon,” Shay says.
“I will, Shay,” I say.
“I have four new boxes of
jigsaw puzzles.”
I chuckle. “Waiting patiently for yours and my attention?”
“Exactly.”
A delicate sense of loss surges through me like I’m eternal for one second, and I feel the urge to say something nice to Shay.
“Love you, Shay,” I say. “You’re my favourite cousin.”
He chuckles, strokes my head and kisses my temple. That’s how Shay is—gentle, caring, strong. No wonder Sol is in love with him.
“Sol is your favourite cousin,” he whispers into my ear, “but I won’t tell anyone.”
I chuckle as my eyes meet his—the blue eternity of his eyes. Pain squeezes my heart.
“Watch over yourself, Shay,” I say as my throat tightens.
“You need a drink, Birdie,” Shay says and tosses my hair.
He leans towards Sol and tosses her hair as well.
Mike
I finish eating and we walk to the basement where our office is situated. It’s separated with a thick metal door from the rest of the building and has blast resistant walls and the secret passage below the floor that stretches below the ground and opens up behind a wall of rock outside the house. In case the Voronin Bratva found us here. We spread out and take our seats around the table. The stone walls emit coldness and the posters of naked women peel off them. Our photos decorate the side table as the other metal door separates the armoury room from the office.
“The… the…” Zane starts.
“The reports,” Axel says for him.
Yes. It happens sometimes. Zane is in good shape but his brain may switch off from time to time. He had that brain damage years ago, but it’s much better now. It’s better with each year that passes.
“On my watch, everything is stable,” I say. “They’re searching for us, but we’re safe for now.” I inhale deeply. “Two corpses within this year.”
That’s the price for our survival. I had to silence two members of the Broken Crusaders MC, because they’d sniffed too much and had crossed my path.
“Jax?” Zane asks.
“No Voronins in my area,” Jax says. “Two growing up kids.” He nods several times and ties his blond hair on the back of his neck.
“Only club business,” Blaze reprimands him and shakes his head as the boys guffaw.
“Scotland clean and safe as well, Prez,” Boulder says.