Devil's Disciples MC (Box Set)

by Scott Hildreth

  He took another drink of beer, looked at Reno, and grinned. “They must have been sprayin’ and prayin’, because the dumb fucks ran out of fuckin’ ammo. Because Reno here is the son of a Texas senator, the brass decided his life was worth something. They called in my SEAL team to try and rescue them.”

  Wearing a serious face, he looked at each of us. “So, they dropped us in this hot zone, with bullets flying from every fucking direction. We fought our way to the pile of rocks, and when we got there these poor bastards had thirty rounds of ammo between them. No food. No water. Nothing but thirty rounds of ammo and a pocket full of desire. My guess is they’d have lasted another five minutes if we hadn’t showed up. When we tried to extract them, dip-shit here refused to go. He said all he needed from me was some ammo. Told me to take the others and leave him. Said he’d fight his way out. In fact, that’s what the crazy SOB did.”

  He chuckled and then shook his head. “We ended up slaughtering those bastards with the help of that Ranger chalk. Reno earned my respect right then and there. We’ve stayed in touch ever since.”

  I’d always given Reno a little less recognition than the other men. I suspected it was because we’d been friends since childhood, and that he came along later in life. Learning of his courage, the narrow escape from death, and of his devotion, I now viewed him with a higher level of admiration than I had in the past.

  “So, if it wasn’t for you, Reno wouldn’t be standing here?” I asked.

  “Hard saying,” Crip responded. “Gung-ho SOB might have fought them off with a handful of rocks. Wouldn’t have surprised me one fucking bit.”

  I glanced at Reno and gave a mental nod.

  He stood before me as proof that a man never really knows who a person is until he takes the time to get to know them. Subsequently, if a man doesn’t invest that time or effort, he might be surprised with what he finds out in the end.

  There was one person in my life that I knew little about.

  It was time for that to change.

  137

  ALLY

  Side by side on the concrete bench, we gazed at the ocean while drinking beers. The sweet smell of the surrounding flowers lingered lightly in the air.

  “I’ve got a question,” he said. “A few of them.”

  I glanced at him. “Okay.”

  “What’s your biggest accomplishment in life?”

  The question took me by complete surprise. I wasn’t one to brag about anything. Beaming over my life’s accomplishments wasn’t my way of doing things. Luckily, I hadn’t accomplished much. At least nothing worth making note of.

  “Moving from Connecticut to California, I suppose.”

  “That’s your biggest accomplishment?”

  I shrugged. “I think it’s huge. For me, anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “It took guts. I have no family here. I know no one. I left my only family member buried in Bridgeport. Yeah. I’d say coming here is my biggest accomplishment.”

  “Who was your childhood hero, and who is your hero now?”

  “That’s an easy one,” I said. “For both. My father.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t place people I don’t know on pedestals. Actors. Actresses. Sports figures. I don’t know who they are. How could I look up to any of them? Despite his faults, my father is the only one worthy of that label. He adhered to a system of beliefs that I admired, and still live by today.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Next question. When was the last time you sang to yourself?”

  I laughed. “This morning.”

  “In the shower?” he asked.

  “No. While I put on my makeup. I sing to myself all the time. There’s never anyone around to hear me, so it’s probably more often than you’d think.”

  “Last one,” he said. “At least I think it’ll be the last. You pay in cash at the grocery store, and the checker gives you fifty bucks too much in change. You don’t realize it until you’re at the bar with your friends. When you get in your purse to get your lipstick, or whatever. Do you keep the money, or give it back?”

  “Give it back.”

  “Why?”

  I turned to the side and looked him up and down. “What’s with the questions?”

  “Just wondering,” he said. “Why would you give it back?”

  “Because. She’d probably lose her job over it. Me keeping it wouldn’t be right.”

  He rested his elbows over the back of the bench, at his sides. After crossing his ankles, he glanced over his right shoulder. “Same question, but the IRS gives you fifty too much on your tax return. Do you cash the check, or call them and ask how to return the extra money?”

  “I keep it and spend it frivolously. On chocolate.”

  “Why?” he asked. “What’s the difference?”

  “I don’t know about you,” she said. “But, I don’t steal a struggling mother’s purse or a working man’s wallet. Never have. Never will. I take from people who deserve it. The IRS deserves it.”

  “Who decides whether or not the people you steal from are deserving?” he asked.

  I tapped my finger against my chest. “Me.”

  “Why you?”

  “Because,” I said. “I trust my judgement more than anyone else’s.”

  “So, for you to steal from someone, they’ve got to deserve it? In your mind, anyway?”

  “Yep.”

  He crossed his ankles. “Give me one example.”

  “Drug dealer,” I responded.

  He nodded lightly as if absorbing my responses. He shifted his attention to the horizon. After a few moments passed, he draped his right arm over my shoulder. Not like a teen in the movie theater, using a phony stretch to sneak the gesture. He simply placed it there, like that’s where he felt it belonged.

  Despite our relationship’s unique nature, I’d been rather pleased with what we had. Following the night he cooked me dinner, however, I found myself wishing things between us were different. As we wept that night, I felt a sense of belonging. That my existence in his life had a purpose.

  I enjoyed watching the sunset with him and sitting in the diner, talking. Nevertheless, the relationship that surrounded those moments felt lacking.

  Until now.

  I moved to my left, inch by inch, until I was nestled at his side.

  I remained motionless for an hour, afraid moving would cause him to rethink what he’d done. He was giving exactly what I wanted whether he realized it or not. I wanted to bask in it as long as he’d let me.

  The sex we’d shared was phenomenal. Raw. Satisfying. Spur of the moment. Our meals and talking were equally enjoyable. What was missing was the in between. The intimacy. I didn’t expect—or want—a fairy tale, but I preferred he take the next step toward becoming intimate.

  The sun sank into its watery bed. Memorable, once again. Before the sky went dark, he swept an errant strand of hair behind my ear with the tip of his finger. I felt his eyes on me.

  “Doing anything important in the morning?” he asked.

  I shivered at his soft touch. “I don’t have any morning plans, no.”

  “Want to stay all night?”

  My heart lurched into my throat. “Here?”

  “Yeah,” he said, smiling ever so slightly. “Here.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Well.” He stood and extended his hand. “I’d love for you to.”

  I reached for his hand. Instead of helping me to my feet, like I imagined, he pulled me into him.

  We collided. In more ways than one. My chest came to a rest against his. It was the collision of our lips, however, that shocked me stupid. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting.

  Although sex was something that I’d shared with other men, kissing wasn’t. By choice, I’d kissed very few people—primarily during high school.

  Taken by complete surprise—and feeling self-conscious of my abilities—I accepted the kiss and kissed him in return. All in all, he must
have been pleased because we kissed until I was weak-kneed, and my panties were—once again—ruined.

  The kiss took me to somewhere distant and unfamiliar. A place where my heart felt full and my mind cared about nothing but the moment in which I was living. In that special place, teetering back and forth on my tip-toes, I kissed him until our souls became one.

  Our lips parted. Dumbstruck, I gazed into his eyes.

  “I liked that,” he said. “It was nice.”

  “I really liked it,” I murmured. “You surprised me.”

  “I surprised myself. I never thought…I didn’t think,” he stammered. “I doubted we’d reach this point.”

  I wiped my lips with my index finger. “Which point is that?”

  “The point where I never want you to leave,” he said.

  It was my second major surprise of the evening. I fought against the smile that my mouth was curling into. “Is that where you are right now? Never wanting me to leave?”

  He swallowed hard. “I think so.”

  138

  GOOSE

  I wanted to be covered in her scent. Feel her skin pressed against mine. To have it her never-ending quick-witted rambling be a part of my day-to-day life. To enjoy the pleasure of absorbing her beauty at will.

  It’s been said that a way to a man’s heart was through feeding him.

  A way to a woman’s heart was by feeding her as well.

  Feeding her dick.

  There were more positions and methods for me to fuck Ally than could be counted. There was only one way to fuck her that would cause her to feel in her heart what I felt in mine.

  Turtle sex.

  Slow and steady wins the race.

  I traced my fingertip around the areola of her nipple, admiring the contour of her perfectly sculpted breasts. Holding her anxious gaze, I lowered my mouth to the jasmine-infused skin of her neck and kissed it lightly.

  She tensed at the gesture.

  With one hand still teasing her nipple, I continued to kiss her, my mouth traveling along her neck—kiss by kiss—until I reached her clavicle.

  I dragged my teeth along the thin skin that covered the bone. Her body shuddered. My lips came to a rest, replacing the fingertip that had teased her nipple to a state of arousal.

  I encompassed her hardened nipple with my lips, sucking it with care. Her hips reacted, grinding against my leg with the rhythm of a dancer.

  “I want you,” she breathed.

  Without looking up, I touched my index finger to her lips.

  I moved my mouth to the other breast.

  Lying on my side with my thigh between her legs, my aching cock was pointing skyward. While I gave her nipple the same attention as the first, she encompassed my girth in her hand.

  She stroked the shaft slowly and with care.

  A sensation of elation ran through me. I, like her, bucked my hips against her clenched fist.

  Her wetness soaked my outer thigh. I lifted my mouth from her breast and gazed into her sky-blue eyes.

  Her lips parted, but no words passed them.

  I took her bottom lip between mine and bit it lightly. Her back arched. I kissed her passionately and fully.

  We writhed against one another, seeking more of what each of us had to offer. The kiss continued until I ached for her.

  Our mouths parted.

  She opened her eyes and met my gaze.

  Speaking wasn’t necessary. Her eyes said it all. I rolled off the edge of the bed and retrieved a condom from the nightstand. After returning, I positioned my hips between her legs. With my gaze held by her desire-filled eyes, she ground her hips against me.

  I guided myself into her.

  My eyes fell closed.

  Denying the depth of pleasure she provided me was impossible. During sex, the world around me no longer existed. It was only Ally and me, and nothing else.

  I pressed my lips against hers and kissed her fully. I flushed myself of my life’s atrocities, inhibitions, and reservations. Relaxed fully, I gave myself to her.

  All of me.

  Our bodies melted together, becoming one.

  As one, with our lips still embraced in a kiss, we climaxed together. The rush of euphoria that rushed through me was unique. I took mental pause, hoping I could identify what, exactly, was different.

  It wasn’t, however, one thing.

  It was the experience. Something she and I seemed to share.

  Unwilling to admit it, but incapable of denying it, I simply held her in my arms. It was there, weakened by the powers that she possessed, that I fell asleep.

  139

  ABBY

  The living areas of the home faced west, giving a full view of the beach. The bedrooms faced east, toward the rising sun. Drifting in and out of sleep while the room transformed from dark to light, I realized our night together was over. Soon, the sun’s rays warmed my exposed skin. I lifted my head from his arm and turned to face him.

  His brown eyes met mine. He looked soft and caring, almost as if he’d evolved as I slept. I wondered if it was me. Before I could get a word past my dry lips, he grinned and broke the morning’s silence.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  His morning voice was raspy, giving hint to the years I suspected he’s spent smoking. Even so, it was sexy as hell to hear.

  I focused on his lips. I liked them. They were perfect for kissing. I smiled at the thought. “Good morning.”

  “Sleep well?”

  “I did, thank you. Did you?”

  “Like a fucking baby,” he replied. “First time in nearly a month.”

  I always slept well. A clear conscious was what my father always told me. I wondered if Goose’s full night’s sleep was a result of the bed, the sex, or the comfort he found in the intimacy we shared.

  “I’m glad you slept well.”

  “Breakfast?” he asked. “I need coffee.”

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “Hour or so.”

  I sat up. “Why didn’t you get up?”

  “You were sleeping on my arm.”

  I liked it that he didn’t bother waking me. I grinned. “Thanks for letting me sleep.”

  He swept his legs over the edge of the bed, paused, and then stood. I took a guilty pleasure in seeing him naked. Like I was taking something from him I wasn’t entitled to. As he ambled to the bathroom, I took in every inch of his lean, muscular frame.

  His butt was cute.

  I tossed my hair and stood. “I don’t have a—”

  “There’s one in here for you,” he said.

  “Toothbrush?”

  “I bought you one. Couple of other things, too.”

  Anxious to see what he felt I needed, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and crept to the bathroom.

  Standing at the sink closest to the door, he gestured toward the far sink. “The drawer beside the sink. There’s some stuff in there for you.”

  I was surprised to find toothbrush, toothpaste, makeup wipes, face wash and lotion. I picked up the toothbrush and draped toothpaste over the bristles. “Thank you.”

  “There’s body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower.”

  “You bought all this stuff, or was it here?”

  He rinsed his mouth and wiped his face on a hand towel. “I’m kind of weird about stuff. I threw out anything that was left here. Shit like that creeps me out. All it did was make me think about him. And her. That’s all stuff I bought, just in case you took me up on my offer.”

  “Why would I have not taken you up on it?”

  “You’re a hard person to read,” he said.

  Since meeting him, there were a thousand things I wanted to say to Goose. I’d swallowed nearly all of them.

  “Well,” I said. “I’m glad you offered. I enjoyed it.”

  He came closer. “Which part?”

  “In order of importance, or chronological?”

  “Importance.”

  “The kissing. Sleeping toget
her. The sex.”

  When I finished brushing my teeth, he was inches from me. I rinsed my mouth and faced him. “What?”

  He kissed me. Not like he did at the bench. It was just enough to make me tingle. Want more.

  “Let’s have some coffee and a little breakfast,” he said.

  He turned and walked away. Partially hypnotized by his cute ass, and still a little schoolgirl-ish from the previous night’s perfect sex, I stood and stared. I could get used to what we had, but the odds of that were minimal, if at all.

  Goose “threw together” a breakfast of omelets, toast, and fresh fruit. With the beach in full view, we sat across from each other at the kitchen island and ate. It seemed like a dream.

  “I’ve got somewhere I’ve got to go for the club on Sunday.” He sipped his coffee. “Other than that, I’m going to be here for the rest of the week.”

  I didn’t know what to say. It was Wednesday morning. By the sound of things, he had an uneventful few days planned.

  “Okay,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  “If you want, you can sleep over.”

  “Again tonight?” I asked, as if it were no big deal.

  “Until Sunday,” he said without looking up from his food. “When I leave with the club.”

  I did a mental fist pump. And then, another. “I’d like that.”

  He lifted his head. His eyes smiled. “Me, too.”

  140

  GOOSE

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or are you going to make me guess?” Ally asked.

  “I’m fine.” I wasn’t. I took a sip of coffee, hoping the cup would hide my pursed lips. “Everything’s fine.”

  “You’ve been acting depressed since we ate lunch.” She sat down on the bar stool across from me. “Something’s bothering you. You can talk to me about anything, you know. Whatever you say will stay between us. You can trust me on that.”

  Ally’s ability to read people was second to none. It seemed she knew what I was thinking long before I was willing to reveal my thoughts. Hiding my feelings was a thing of the past.