Bad Boy's Toy: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Nicole Fox

  There had to be more, though. She bit her lip as she looked around the room. Her eyes settled on the top of the chest of drawers.

  His phone. Why hadn't she thought of it first?

  She went over and picked it up. He hadn't even bothered to turn off the screen, or lock it, and had left a text message boldly sitting on the front.

  “Found your brother. He's in trouble,” it read.

  So, that's what it was! That was why he didn't want to talk about his family. Between his dad dying, and his brother disappearing, of course he'd have been touchy about his private life. She would have been, too.

  The pipes of the older house clanked a little as the shower turned off. Sara put the phone back where she'd found it and scampered back to the end of the bed so she could finish dressing.

  He came back into the room a few minutes later, dressed in new boxers and a shirt. He bent down and grabbed his discarded jeans and boots. “You ready to go?” he grumbled as he pulled his jeans on.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  Without a word, he sat down next to her and put his boots on.

  The heat seemed to roll off him, making Sara wet again as memories from just a few minutes prior flashed through her body. She couldn't forget how much pleasure he'd given her, or how intense it had been. Sure, he may have had his reasons to act the way he did, but he was still a fucking asshole. Of course, she'd be damned if that wasn't the best fuck she'd ever had.

  “Danny?” she asked after a tense couple moments.

  He looked at her and sighed. “What?”

  She took a deep breath before beginning. “I just wanted to say I get it. I understand you don't want to talk about your family. I have a past with mine, too, and it was unfair of me to start going a mile a minute like that. I won't pry anymore. I promise.”

  Silent, he searched her face for a moment before finally nodding his agreement and forgiveness. “Thank you,” he said finally. “Now, you ready?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  He gathered up his phone and vest, then led her back through the house and out to his bike. She climbed back up behind him after he'd started it, and they pulled out onto the street and headed back to her place.

  The ride back was just as thrilling as the ride there. She tightened her arms around his body again, holding herself close to him. His hand reached down and touched hers, lingered for a long moment.

  It wasn't an emotional attachment, just something that was purely physical. But, as they drew closer to her place, she found herself wondering when Danny could make time to see her again. She wanted to relive that last orgasm, feeling his naked body pressed against hers, holding her, controlling her. All her worries about the future and her regrets about the past had been pushed away in those brief moments. When she'd been in bed with him, his cock buried inside her, only that one, pure moment had mattered.

  She needed that again.

  They had pulled onto her street and come to a stop light just a few blocks from her place, when an even greater roar kicked up behind them. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw an entire cavalcade of bikers, riding two abreast, bearing down on them.

  Her heart leaped into her throat as they came racing up and encircled Danny and Sara. She began to calm down a little, though, as she quickly recognized their vests. These were all Fallen Knights, all Danny's brothers.

  “Hey, hey, Danny Boy,” called one of the bikers on their right. “This your new ol' lady?”

  “If she ain't, I want a piece when you're done!” called another from their left, a big, bearded biker who roared over the noise with no problem. All the men laughed at his comment, and Sara, certainly not for the first time, wondered just what in the hell she'd gotten herself into. She could be pregnant already. What the hell was she thinking?

  “Shut the fuck up, guys,” Danny snapped back, clearly touchy. “She ain't my ol' lady, and you still can't get a piece, Tyke.”

  “What a shame!” Tyke called back. “She could get a golf ball through a garden hose with those lips!”

  “Knock it off, you guys!” roared another biker, a big, tough looking old codger up ahead of them. “I'm here on club business, Danny. I don't want anyone on the street or in a bar hearing us.”

  “About the message?” Danny asked.

  The man nodded solemnly.

  “Let me drop her off, then we can go back to my place.”

  Sara's mouth was open before she even realized what she was doing. “My place is less than a block away. You can meet there.”

  “Sounds good, doll,” the man replied before anyone, including Danny, could decline the offer.

  Chapter Eight

  Danny

  Danny didn't like that they were dragging Sara into this mess. Their arrangement was just a financial one. It didn't matter if she was a spitfire in the sack. He didn't need her knowing more about his business than was necessary.

  But, shit, what he wouldn't do to be balls deep in her again. And, if he hadn't gotten that text from Thorn, he might already have been. The thought of her skin against his, the feel of her wet pussy clasped so tight around his cock, how soft her lips were, how she bit his lower lip when he pulled away from a kiss.

  It was just like Jed to ruin his plans, even when he wasn't around to do it personally.

  There was just something about Sara, though. Maybe it was that her past was as packed away and hidden as his. Or, it could have been the way she begged for his cock and ran her nails up and down his back, urging him on. Whatever the reason, he couldn't wait for their next time alone together.

  Unfortunately, there was business to attend to.

  The living room in Sara's apartment was small, but more than enough to accommodate him, Sara, and Thorn, the president of the Fallen Knights. Thorn stood across from them, in front of the small picture window with its blinds pulled down. He and Sara both sat on the couch, inches apart.

  “Sara, meet Thorn. Thorn, meet Sara.”

  Sara gave a little, uncertain wave. “A pleasure.”

  Thorn nodded. “Likewise, little lady.”

  “Good, introductions done. Now, you gonna tell me what's going on with my little brother?” Danny asked.

  “We found Jed,” Thorn said, clearly not wanting to mince words. He wasn't that type of man, anyways. “We got a lead on him next town over, buying drugs by the college there. Saw him at Mesquite and Hillcrest”

  The news hit Danny like a punch in the gut. That wasn't like Jed at all. He shook his head, incredulous. “I don't believe it,” Danny said. “My brother'd never touch that shit. It had to have been somebody else that just looked like him.”

  “People do weird things,” Sara murmured from beside him. “Believe me.”

  Danny glanced at her, wondering if she was referring to what they'd just done. Or, rather, if that statement came from personal experience in this kind of thing.

  “No, Danny,” Thorn said. “It was him. Tyke saw him with his own two eyes, dude. It was Jed.”

  He shook his head again. There was no way.

  Sara put a hand over his. “I know some people over there. My . . . uh . . . some of my family got wrapped up in that shit, too. I think I can help you find him.”

  He found himself flipping his hand around so he could squeeze it. He felt a stirring in his jeans, again. Just her touch seemed to get him halfway to hard.

  But, still, this was club business. More importantly, it was his personal business. And he needed to keep her out of places she didn't belong. “I think we've got this handled.”

  “Come on, Danny,” Thorn butted in. “Girl says she can help, let her help. Take help where you can find it.”

  Danny grimaced. “Fine. We go tomorrow, okay?”

  Sara smiled a little and turned back to Thorn.

  “Good,” Thorn said. “If you two find him, you let us know, and we'll come fast as we can. No sense in spooking him with the whole gang showing up.”

  “Right,” Danny agreed
.

  Thorn glanced from Danny to Sara and back again. “I'll be outside, Danny. Boys are all heading up to the Crow.”

  Danny nodded. “Got it. Be out in a minute.”

  “Good meeting you, Sara,” Thorn said on his way out.

  Sara cleared her throat. “You'd better get going, before the boys start worrying we're getting married or something.”

  Danny smirked. Marriage? Nah. Fucking? Yeah, that'd be closer to what he was wanting. “Tomorrow, then?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

  He stayed there on the couch, though, his eyes flickering down to her lips again. He wanted to taste them one more time before he left. But, the way his body was stirring, he knew he wouldn't make it out with the guys if he did.

  She looked back at him, her mouth half-parted. Her tongue came out, just barely touched her upper lip. She was thinking the same thing, he knew. But, there'd be plenty of time for making babies. Later. Right now, it was time for him to see his boys and drink down a few beers. After all, the club was the most important thing.

  Danny made the first move, breaking the spell. He got up from the couch and headed for the front door. Sara trailed after him. He opened the door and went to step outside, but Sara stopped him with a light touch on his hand with just the tips of her fingers.

  “Yeah?” he asked as he turned around.

  She pressed her body close to him, molding herself to his form, and pulled his lips down to hers. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, groaning as she tasted him.

  He pulled her into his arms, his hands running over the tight jeans stretched over her ass. They broke apart after a long, intimate moment, her teeth lightly biting his lower lip as they parted.

  “You were amazing earlier,” Sara nearly whispered. “I didn't know sex could be like that.”

  Danny grinned despite himself. “Never been with a biker before, that's why.”

  “Whatever,” Sara said, rolling her eyes. “Now, hurry up and get drunk so you can get to sleep early. We've gotta find your brother tomorrow morning.”

  He nodded before showing himself out.

  As he headed to his bike, and to join the rest of the guys, images of her perfect tits, her great ass, and that cupid's bow of a mouth invaded his thoughts. He tried to dispel them as he climbed onto his bike and started it, but to no avail.

  He rode all the way to the Old Crow with one of the worst hard-ons of his life.

  Chapter Nine

  Sara

  Sara clutched to Danny's bike as they tore down the highway. It wasn't a terribly long ride to the college where they'd spotted Jed, but it was glorious any way she looked at it.

  There was just something about the feel of the roaring bike pressed between her legs, the way the wind rushed over her body, and how this strong, manly biker seemed to fit so perfectly in her arms.

  Out in the distance, storm clouds gathered, coming closer with each moment. But, Sara didn't mind. Instead, her thoughts were filled with memories of the night before. Of how Danny's hand felt as it held her hands above her head. How his cock had felt inside her.

  She hoped that, after this stuff with Jed was sorted, they could get back to the business at hand.

  Of course, she also worried that revelations about her past, and her parents, wouldn't dissuade Danny when he found out. And, if she meant to help him, there was no way she'd be able to hide the truth. She just hoped that stoic persona of his kept going, and that he avoided asking too many questions.

  Once they hit town, she directed him to one of the sleazier neighborhoods. It wasn't near where Jed had been spotted, but she knew a guy who had dealt to her mother in the past, a guy who might know something.

  One of their many “field trips” during her junior high years was when her mother dragged her out here. She couldn't afford a babysitter, because that would have taken away from her drug money. And she couldn't leave Sara home alone, since that might get CPS called on her.

  Even back then, the irony hadn't been lost on Sara.

  “Right here,” Sara shouted into Danny's ear as they pulled up in front of the shotgun shack of a crackhouse. The sickly green paint was peeling, one of the sets of windows was covered in aluminum foil, and the foundation had long ago begun to crumble.

  “Here?” Danny asked, his voice full of disbelief. “You know people that fucking live in this place?”

  “Unfortunately,” Sara replied as she hopped down off the bike, “yes.” She turned and started to head in.

  Behind her, he killed the bike and put up the kickstand.

  She turned around when he heard his boots crunch gravel. “No, Danny. I got this. Quentin's cool, okay? I've known him since I was a kid.”

  “I'm not sending you in there alone,” he said.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then I'm not going in. A big biker dude is going to spook him, and then we won't know anything about Jed.”

  He sighed and rolled his eyes, clearly accepting the fact that he had to give some control away on this. “Fine. Just get what we need so we can get out of this shithole.”

  She spun on her heel and headed to the front door. She knocked quietly on the door. If you pounded on the front door of a place like this, they were liable to think you were the cops and head out the back door. Not that the cops really gave a shit about this place. Places like this were part of the landscape. The sordid little den had been here for years, and it would be here for many more.

  Feet sounded on the other side of the door and her side of the peephole darkened as someone looked outside. “Who're you?” called a man's voice from the other side.

  “Sara Taylor,” she said. “My mother used to bring me here a couple years ago.”

  “What d'you want, chickadee? You wanna carry on the family tradition or something?”

  “Just want you to open the door, so I can ask you a couple questions.”

  “Questions? You a fucking five-oh or some shit?”

  “Five-oh? Quentin, isn't that a little gangster?” she asked the door. “You're one of the whitest guys I've ever met. You like the Grateful Dead, Phish, and The String Cheese Incident. Just open up. I'm trying to find someone.”

  “Fine, fine,” Quentin said. He slid back the chain on the other side of door, and multiple deadbolts sounded as he flipped them open. He swung the door open just a crack and stuck his head out. The drug dealer was just a normal-looking hippie guy with a three–day-old beard on his face and long, stringy hair. He took a good look at her and said, “Oh, shit, girl, I remember you! How's that hot-momma of yours doing?”

  She was pretty sure her mother had fucked Quentin a few times, when she'd been short on cash. Sara didn't like to think about it, though, or what it meant.

  “Hopefully, she's dead,” Sara replied, her voice flat. “Now, are you going to let me in?”

  “Who's that?” Quentin asked, gesturing with his chin to Danny.

  “My ride. Now, come on, Quentin. Do you want people seeing us out here?”

  “Nah, you're right,” he said, pushing the door open wide for her. “Come on in. Mi casa es su casa.”

  She stepped inside the dark, dank, smoky house. A wave of body odor hit her like a city bus as she looked around. He had the same old couch he'd always had, the one his cat had torn up on one side and a junkie had lit on fire on the other.

  He closed the door behind her, completing the doom and gloom and depression of the place.

  She shivered and shoved down the memories of this place, of having to do homework at the wobbly table in the dining room, at having to worry about whether or not her pencil was going to get stolen by a rat. Or if she'd get raped by a junkie while her mom shot up in the bathroom.

  “Now, whatchu need, girl?”

  She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She flipped it on and pulled up the picture of Jed that Danny had sent her that morning. “Seen this guy?”

  Quentin shook his head. “Nah, I ain't ever seen
him before.”

  “Look again, Quentin, it's important. This was back before he started, so maybe his hair is longer, got a beard maybe? Definitely thinner now than in this picture.”

  He reached up, scratched the hair on his chin. “He have a girl or something? Some real trashy chick, real down-to-fuck when he's not around?”