by Lexy Timms
“What are you talking about?” I asked, feeling hopeful.
“I need someone to schedule appointments, order supplies, and keep my books organized. Do you think you can handle something like that?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I can do that,” I said, excited. “What about benefits?”
His smile faltered. “Babe, I can’t offer them right now.”
“So, no health insurance?”
“No, but I can pay you fifteen bucks an hour.”
Fifteen bucks wasn’t bad. “You mentioned quarterly bonuses?”
“Yeah. Hefty ones.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not talking about sex, are you? Because, don’t get me wrong, I love it but your penis does not pay my auto insurance.”
“I bet it would if I was a stripper,” he said. “Did I tell you that someone wanted to hire me to perform, last winter? Said it would have been really good money.”
“You are not showing that cock of yours to any more women in this town. I don’t care how much they pay you,” I said loudly.
“Don’t worry, babe. He’s all yours,” said Taylor, splashing me playfully with his toe.
“You’re still paying me a quarterly bonus.”
He sighed. “Fine. I’ll pay in cash. That means you’re going to have to help with outbound sales. J.T. and I are also going to start plowing snow in the wintertime. We’ll need your help then, too.”
“So, you’ve got the entire year covered. Motivated men. I love it,” I replied.
“I’m feeling motivated right now,” he said, pulling his cock out. “What about you?”
Still sore from our earlier lovemaking fest, I flipped over his floating lounge, sending him into the cold water.
“You bitch,” he said, laughing after he came back up.
“Don’t you dare,” I warned as he moved toward me, grinning wickedly.
“Dare what?”
“Push me under. I’m… I’m pregnant,” I said.
The smile dropped from his face. “What?”
I touched my stomach, which was beginning to look thicker. “I’m pregnant.”
He frowned. “Is it mine?”
“Yes,” I snapped angrily. “Who else’s would it be?”
Taylor’s eyes shifted to my stomach. “How far along are you?”
“About three months.”
“Three months? That means you would have gotten pregnant the night of the wedding?”
I nodded.
He let out long sigh. “It’s not Mark’s?”
“No,” I said stiffly. “He couldn’t have any more kids. Besides, we didn’t usually have intercourse.”
“Okay,” he said, looking away. “You can spare me those details.”
“It’s yours. It couldn’t be anyone else’s,” I said flatly.
“How long have you known?”
I told him.
He swore. “And when were you going to tell me you were pregnant? When it was too late to do anything about it?”
“No. To be honest, I didn’t know if I was ever going to tell you about it,” I said, paddling toward the metal steps.
“Why?”
“Because I knew you’d act like this.”
“Like someone being kept in the dark?” he said loudly. “How in the fuck do you expect me to act, Lauren?”
“I don’t know,” I said, pulling myself off the tube. I climbed out of the deep end and walked over to my towel. “I knew you wouldn’t be happy but you don’t have to act like this is all my fault. There were two of us. Hell, I don’t even remember having sex with you that night.”
His eyes widened. “Fuck. I forgot to tell you about that.”
“About what?” I asked, feeling exhausted.
He told me about Mark showing up at the wedding and drugging my champagne glass.
“That fucking creep!” I said loudly. “You’re serious?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Oh, my God… what if the baby is…” Touching my stomach, I began to cry. “What if that drug has done something to the baby?”
Taylor quickly got out of the pool and pulled me into his arms. “Hey, everything is going to be okay,” he whispered, running his hand over the back of my hair.
“No it’s not,” I blubbered.
“Yes it is. Look,” he sighed. “We’ll work it out.”
“What do you mean?”
He pulled me away from his chest so he could look me in the eye. “Babe, we’re going to be parents,” he said, a small grin spreading across his face.
I sniffled. “I thought you didn’t want to be a dad?”
“Sometimes what you think you want isn’t necessarily what you really want.”
“So… what are you saying?”
He grabbed part of the towel and wiped my tears with it. “I never thought I wanted to be in a relationship with a woman and now look at me? There’s no place that I’d rather be than with you.”
I managed to smile.
“Now there’s going to be three of us,” he said. “And fuck… I’m going to be a father.” Taylor looked up toward the sky, his face filling with joy. “Me! Who’d have thought?”
“You’re actually happy about this now?” I said, squinting.
His eyes went back to mine. “Yeah. I actually am.”
I bit my lower lip. “What if there’s something wrong with him?”
“Him?” he grabbed both of my upper arms. “It’s a boy?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, smiling. “It could be a girl.”
He looked down and then slowly ran his hand across my belly. “Whether it’s a boy or a girl, we’ll figure it out together. I promise.”
“Even if it has problems?” I asked.
“Even if it has some kind of birth defect, we’ll be there for our child,” he said.
I sighed in relief. “Okay. What about the club?”
“The club?” Taylor chuckled. “Hell, when they find out I’m going to be a daddy, they’re never going to let me hear the end of it.”
“So, you’re not quitting?”
He frowned. “Of course not.”
The club had been one of the reasons I’d hesitated in telling Taylor about the child. I was still worried about the dangers involved with raising a kid in that kind of environment.
“Great,” I mumbled, looking down.
“Hey. Look at me.”
Our eyes met.
“What are you so afraid of? My club?”
“Yes. I guess I am.”
“You have no reason to worry about a thing.”
“But I’ve heard so many rumors around town about –”
“Don’t listen to rumors. That’s all they are.”
“What about the problems you guys have had with the Devil’s Rangers?”
He sighed. “So, you’ve been doing your research.”
“Yes,” I replied. “I mean, hell, Tank’s father was murdered just a few months ago. Why didn’t you tell me about that?”
Taylor shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess you’ve never really asked me about my friends, so I didn’t think you’d want to talk about any of it.”
“Taylor,” I said, staring up at him. “If we’re going to make this relationship work, you need to be honest with me about everything.”
“Fair enough, but you need to also understand that there are things I can’t divulge to you.”
I frowned. “Well, that seems fair,” I said dryly.
“I’m talking about club affairs.”
“Illegal affairs, you mean?”
“We’re not involved with anything illegal. Yeah, maybe in the past, but not anymore.”
I stared into his eyes. “Are you telling me the truth?”
“Yes. Of course I am! And as far as the Devil’s Rangers go, we’ve settled shit between us. There’s nothing you, or the other Old Ladies, have to worry about.”
I sighed. “Okay.”
“So, this is what
’s going to happen – next weekend, you and I are going to throw a pool party here for the club and their families. We’ll barbecue, play volleyball, and maybe even rent one of those inflatable slides for the kids. It’ll be fun.”
“Fun,” I repeated. To me it sounded like a lot of work.
“Yes. I want you to get to know them.”
“And you really want to do this here?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Mitzy might not approve.”
“I’ll talk to her. Mitzy and I are like this,” he said, crossing his fingers together.
“Okay,” I said, giving in. “Let’s do it.”
Taylor grinned. “You’re going to love the guys.”
I smirked. “I am, huh?”
“Yeah and they’re going to love you,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “Almost as much as I do.”
“And what if they don’t? Would you leave me?” I whispered.
His face turned serious. “If they don’t love you, then I’d leave them.”
My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. He’d answered the question that had been on my mind since learning I was pregnant. Taylor loved his club, but if push came to shove, he’d choose me if he had to.
“So, what do bikers like to eat?” I asked, wondering how much food we were going to need to prepare for this shindig he was talking about.
He grinned wickedly. “Besides pussy? Anything that goes good with beer.”
I couldn’t help it. Maybe I was just as sick as he was, but I had to laugh.
****
The End
Thank you for reading this novella, Taming the Biker. It was written specifically for this Anthology. I hope you’ve enjoyed!
Interested in reading more about the bikers in Jensen? Book one in this series, Resisting the Biker, Cassie Alexandra, is free at most eBook stores.
Book Order:
Resisting The Biker
Surviving The Biker
Fearing The Biker
Breaking The Biker
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TBPEPEW/ref=rdr_kindle_ext_tmb
Twenty-one-year-old college student, Adriana Nikolas, doesn't really know what to make of Raptor, the sexy biker who seems to be obsessed with getting into her pants. Hot or not, she knows from their first encounter that he's dangerous, both in and out of bed.
What Raptor wants, Raptor gets. Right now, he wants Adriana and will do whatever it takes to claim her as his woman. But, she keeps resisting, which isn't something that the Road Captain of the Gold Vipers is accustomed to. Arrogant, cocky, and stubborn, Raptor takes on the challenge, and in the meantime, gets much more than what he'd bargained for.
Meanwhile, Slammer, President of the Gold Vipers, seeks justice for the rape of his Old Lady's daughter.
Read them all? Keep an eye out for Loving The Biker, available sometime this spring of 2016 (Pre-order not yet available).
Other books written by author (under pen name, K.L. Middleton)
Tangled Beauty
Tangled Mess
Tangled Fury
Sharp Edges
Follow Cassie Alexandra on Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/Cassie-Alexandra-504545409643374/
a
By C.J. Pinard
Copyright 2016 C.J. Pinard
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Acknowledgements:
Cover design by: Kellie Dennis @ Book Cover By Design
Dedication:
This is for Emma, queen of the brainstorm.
PROLOGUE
Eight Years Ago
He looked left, then right, trying to ensure the coast was clear. The spray paint can in his right hand heated as his sweaty palm struggled to keep a grip on it. The muggy Florida night hung heavy all around him. He knew wearing a hoodie and jeans in July wasn’t smart, yet, he knew he needed to blend into the shadows as easily as possible. He sucked in a breath of humid air and glanced around one more time for assurance. Not seeing anyone, he looked back at his buddies, giving the nod that all was clear. The four of them stepped out of the alley, staying close to the brick wall at the back of the large sports supply mega-store.
A streetlamp that was supposed to project light and protection to the back of the store had long since burned out, and dumpsters were already overflowing with trash. The stench was overwhelming, but they paid it no mind.
As his buddy, Ripper, went to work on the padlock of the grated door barring entrance into the store, he shook the spray can and began to tag the back of the building.
O A B bitches! he wrote in black paint. He stepped back and looked at it, just as Ripper spoke, breaking him out of the admiration of his handiwork.
“Fuckin’ got it!”
He looked over to see Ripper punch the air with his fist, his gloved hand matching his black hoodie. His jeans were dirty and torn, and his designer tennis shoes had seen better days.
He grinned and chucked the spray paint can into the overflowing dumpster. He followed Ripper and the other two inside the store.
All the lights were off, and the store was eerily quiet. The first thing he saw was rows of kayaks up against the entire back wall, their accompanying paddles set neatly in the row holes on each one.
“Hurry up!” Ripper barked, looking back at him and the other two.
Looking up, he stared at the signs hanging from the ceiling, indicating the different departments. He could easily see that they were heading toward the firearms and weapons department. His stomach summersaulted in excitement and nervousness.
The store was dimly lit, but there were a few low lights on throughout, giving them just enough illumination to see around. He turned toward Ripper’s voice and saw they were standing at a glass display case full of every kind of gun and weapon you could want. Handguns, shotguns, rifles, crossbows, buck knives, and bows and arrows were displayed beautifully under the glittering glass.
“LT, it’s your turn,” Ripper said, piercing him with a challenging brown stare, a crowbar held out in front of him.
He looked down at the proffered weapon and then back into Ripper’s commanding eyes. Nodding, he took the crowbar and licked his lips before taking a step back, winding the crowbar around like a bat he was ready to hit a homerun with.
“Stand back,” he said over his shoulder to the other three.
They took a step back as he swung the crowbar with all his might. An ear-splitting crash filled the quiet store. His elation at breaking the glass on the first try was quickly drowned out by the wailing alarm that followed. A blaring red light accompanied the alarm from out of the gun case, flashing on and off like a police siren.
The store’s floodlights soon popped on, and another siren began to screech.
“Oh shit!” Ripper said. “Grab as many as you can and let’s get the fuck outta here!”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He picked up a smooth black Beretta 9mm and three boxes of bullets. He then shoved the gun into the waistband of his pants and the bullets into the pockets of his hoodie.
Running with all they had toward the back door, the four of them made it into the alley, the warm humid night hitting them in the face as they ran.
Police sirens screamed in the distance, causing their adrenaline to pump even harder until they reached the end of the alley.
“Call you assholes later!” Ripper hollered as the four of them went their separate ways, heading home or wherever they spent their nights.
He yawned and opened his eyes, blinking against the piercing light of the morning sun streaming in through his partially open curtains. Remembering the night before, his eyes flew open and he immediately reached under his pillow to see if his new Beretta was still there. He sighed in relief when his hand wrapped around the warm metal.
Pulling it out, he examined the gun more closely than he had last night. Its black body gleamed in the morning sun. He locked the slide to the rear and looked inside. He fiddled with the magazine release until it fell out into his hand and saw it was empty. He glanced over at his chest of drawers, as he remembered putting the boxes of bullets in his underwear drawer.
Glancing at his bedroom door, he flipped the thin blanket aside and went over to the chest and slowly opened the top drawer. Moving his underwear aside, he saw the three boxes of 9mm bullets. He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. He and Ripper and the other two from the OAB had gotten away with it. He was thrilled to have his very own piece to carry around for protection – and when the need arose, intimidation.
“Ellis! Get down here!” he heard his mother call.
He sighed, setting the gun and bullets back into his drawer, covering them up with the undergarments. Pulling on the jeans that were lying in a heap on the floor, he fastened the button and slogged down the stairs.
His mother was in her waitress uniform, spooning hash browns and eggs onto a plate. A cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth.
“You’re going to be late for school,” she murmured through a hazy blue cloud of smoke.
He coughed and resisted the urge to wave the smoke away. He loathed the smell and looked forward to the day he could move out of his mother’s house.
“I don’t give a shit about school,” he murmured, squeezing ketchup onto his eggs and hash browns.
He flinched when his mother’s palm made contact with the back of his head. “Boy, you go to school, you graduate, then you can do whatever the hell you want. Until that happens, these are my damn rules. And watch your mouth in my house.”
