Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6

by Mellett, Manda

  It prompts me to start a long overdue conversation. “Why don’t you introduce me to the other bikers, Skull?” The words I’ve overheard make me nervous. “Why is there a chance your prez’s woman won’t like me? Are you ashamed of me, Skull?”

  I’m not certain I want to get involved in his world, still nervous of what it represents, but if we’re getting deeper into a relationship, surely I should go into it with my eyes open, and know all there is to know about the man I’m with. And that means getting to know the people he spends most of his time with. On my part I’m an open book, while he keeps his cover firmly closed.

  “Babe,” he starts to reply, going serious. “You may not like the sound of it, but in my biker life, there are two types of women. Ones you fuck, and ones you make your old lady.”

  I bristle. “And I’m one you fuck.” Clearly not one worth introducing to his brothers.

  “Nah, I didn’t fuckin’ say that.” He wipes his hands down his face. “Look, Mel. We’ve got a good thing going, and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

  “You met my friends.” I round on him, realising I’m waving a wooden spoon in the air, so lower my hand. “Why would meeting yours fuck us up?”

  He stands and comes over, curling his hand around the back of my neck, taking the utensil out of my hand and placing it down on the side. “Mel. These last few weeks have been amazing. When I first saw you, I knew you were going to be something special to me. That’s only become truer the longer we are together. Before we go on with this conversation, there’s something I need you to know. I’ve fallen for you, hard, Mel. I love you, babe.”

  It’s lucky his hand is holding me up or else I might have fallen. I’ve been trying to ignore my growing feelings for him, telling myself, it’s too soon, and he’s not the kind of man for a forever.

  “Nah, you don’t need to say anything back.” He’s misunderstood my hesitation. “Mel, in my club, well, not sure how you’re going to take this, but when a man takes an old lady, the words are, he’s claimed her.”

  I’m listening to his words very carefully, nervous of any misinterpretation. Is he saying he wants to claim me, and if he is, do I want to be claimed?

  As if I’d spoken aloud, he puts his finger to my lips. “Not quite there yet, Mel. Just, listen up.” He takes my hand and tugs it, leading me to the couch in the living room and pulling me down to sit beside him. “Remember I told you, the club is a family?”

  I nod.

  “Well, it’s family we’ve chosen, not one we are born into. We’ve spoken about prospects, how they, and recently I, do all the shit jobs for a year or so, or long enough to prove not only that they’re trustworthy but that they’re a good fit to the club. Anyone joining has to find their place there, we don’t accept anyone in off the street.”

  Where is he going with this?

  “You expect me to prospect? Or whatever the appropriate term is for an old lady?” I don’t like the thought of that.

  He laughs softly. “No, but no one can take an old lady unless she’s voted on and accepted by the club.”

  My eyes narrow. “So, we’re dead in the water if your club doesn’t like me?”

  He shrugs. “I can’t see any reason they wouldn’t like you, Mel. But if for some unknown reason they won’t accept you, our options are, either we part, or I’ll rethink my commitment to the club.”

  Now I’m staring at him, my eyes open wide. Club’s everything to him. I may not have known him that long, but know he lives for his brothers and the life the MC offers. He worked hard for a year just to earn his place. What would he be without it? “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  His hand grasps my hair, and he pulls my head back, leaning in for a kiss. When he’s finished, and I’m released, he tells me softly, “I know you wouldn’t. I’m just trying to explain. And it’s not just my brothers. We’ve talked about the club, haven’t we? How we still wear the one-percenter patch, not because we’re into the shady business of the past, but because we live outside citizen’s laws. You become my old lady? Well, you’ve got to be happy with that.”

  That makes sense. It was one of the reasons I played hard to get in the first place. While my unease about what Skull is has settled as I’ve learned more of the man under the leather, if I’m honest, I try not to think about what he might get up to when he’s out of my sight.

  I haven’t been around Skull as much as I have not to be able to read he’s leading up to something. “What are you proposing?”

  He stares at a point beyond me. “I’m going to tell my brothers I’m seeing someone special. Then, if you’re willing, I recommend you start coming around the clubhouse.” He breaks off and grins. “Bake ‘em some muffins. Quickest fuckin’ way to their hearts. Worked with me, didn’t it?”

  I laugh. Well, he’s got a point there.

  “You can see if you like them. Get to know the other women and decide if you can live with them.”

  “You want me to move to the club?” I’ve got my own place. I don’t want to give that up.

  “Not saying we have to. But I’ve got a room there. You can keep this as your home, we’ll split our time between both. I claim you, woman, that means you’re mine. And that means we’re together. Every fuckin’ night, not three or four times a week. We can work out the living arrangements later. But you must understand, being my old lady is like being my wife.”

  Wife? It suddenly dawns on me how serious he is about our relationship. Am I as into this as he is? I hadn’t been looking for a life partner. Looks like I might have found one. But isn’t that often the way, I think to myself. Something appears when you least expect it. Shouldn’t I at least give whatever this is between us a chance?

  “So,” I begin, slowly, “this is sort of a trial. Seeing if your brothers like me, seeing if I like them. Experiencing your way of life.”

  “Exactly.” He pats my hand and smiles triumphantly.

  “Hmm.” I think for a minute. Can’t see anything wrong with that. I get a glimpse of the life my man lives when he’s not by my side and have a chance to walk away if I don’t like it. Worst thing that can happen, I find I’m not going to fit in, but better to find that out sooner rather than later.

  “Not ruling out, me leaving the club.”

  I nod to acknowledge the comment but at the back of my mind know, if I can’t make it in his world, he probably won’t be able to make it in mine.

  Which could mean we’ll part sooner rather than later.

  Surely it’s best to find out before we get in any deeper.

  “Okay,” I say quickly, then soften my features. “Just tell me when to bake muffins.”

  Chapter Seven

  Melissa

  Skull tried to prepare me as much as he could. I’d asked him endless questions about the men in the club, and the women. In my experience, the former aren’t as difficult to get on with as the latter.

  Of the women, he warned me, three names I really need to know. Violet, who’s the current president’s old lady, Moira, the mother of the president, Demon, and wife of the former prez, Hellfire. The third name was Jeannie who’s the mother hen and ruled the roost until Violet came on the scene. There’s also Sindy, another woman with a long-standing relationship with one of the brothers, and Jayden, far younger, who transferred with a member from Tucson.

  I’ve learned their names by heart and have pulled as much information as I can out of Skull about them.

  Then there’s Bella, Titsy, Sheila, Breezy and Tulia, the club girls or sweet butts as the Satan’s Devils call them. I do find it distasteful that they are there to be at the men’s beck and call for absolutely anything that’s asked of them, but I suppose to each their own. As long as Skull doesn’t go with them, and they don’t make a play for my man, I’ll just have to put up with their presence and try my hardest not to appear judgmental.

  As suggested, I’ve come armed with Tupperware tubs full of muffins and other offerings to tempt sweet and savoury appet
ites alike. But when I drive up to the gates to find a man wearing a vest with the word prospect on it, I find I’m shaking when I drive around to where he’s directed I should park.

  There’s no way to disguise this building from what it is, an old steel mill. I can only hope it looks more inviting on the inside.

  Where’s Skull? He said he’d be here to meet me.

  I delay getting out, thinking I need his strength to help carry everything in, as well as to be moral support. I don’t think I’ve felt this nervous since my first day at high school.

  A noise catches my attention, and I raise my eyes. In front of me there are a group of leather clad men walking to the back of the yard with rifles slung over their shoulders. I’m staring at them so avidly, worrying about the sight, that I don’t see a man approaching, and jump as he raps on my window.

  My heart races wildly until I see it’s Skull with a welcoming grin on his face which slides away when he sees my horrified expression and follows the direction of my eyes.

  He opens my door. “They’re going for target practice. There’s a range up in the woods. You didn’t think we had our own army, did you?”

  “Something of the sort,” I admit.

  He laughs. “Nah, don’t let it worry you. A lot of them are ex-services and like to keep their skills sharp. Need help?” But one look in the back seat shows him I do, so he opens the rear door, and starts loading up his arms.

  I take a couple of tubs. Even with what he’s managing to carry there’s still more left. I do get carried away when I’m nervous, and nervous is an understatement for how I’m feeling today.

  “Wow.” He studies the amount I’ve brought. “You cooked for an army, anyway.”

  “Too much? We can leave some…”

  “Never too much, darlin’. These will all be gone in a flash. Come on in. I’ll take you via the kitchen entrance so we can drop these off and I’ll find a prospect to bring the rest. Then I’ll introduce you to whoever’s around. After which,” he waggles his eyebrows, “I’ve got some etchings to show you, up in my room.”

  I’d rather skip straight to the part where I’m showing off my own artistic skills to him, I tell him as we walk, making him laugh.

  “Hey, like that look on you Skull. I suppose this is your Melissa who’s responsible for that?”

  “Jeannie.” Skull raises his chin. “Yeah, meet Melissa. Melissa, Jeannie. She’s Bomber’s.”

  “Bomber’s mine,” Jeannie corrects with a growl. “Pleased to meetcha, Melissa. What have you got there?”

  “Muffins, cupcakes, some cheesy biscuits, er…”

  Jeannie peers in for a closer look. “Christ, woman. You make all these?”

  “She cooks when she gets anxious,” Skull replies observantly, making me realise he hadn’t been fooled at all.

  As I’m about to protest that I may have been a little apprehensive about meeting these women today, Jeannie winks at me.

  “Don’t blame you at all for feeling a little on edge. Bit daunting meeting all of us. Hey, Vi, meet Melissa, and look what she’s brought.”

  Violet, Demon, the prez’s wife, I remind myself, my teeth worrying my lips. Got to stay on the right side of her. “Have a muffin,” I suggest. “Or a chocolate chip cookie.” Then want to slap myself around the head at my display of the limit of my conversation.

  “I don’t mind if I do,” Violet smiles as she replies easily, opening up a tub. “Ooh. These look good.”

  Another woman, well, teenage girl by the looks of her, walks in carrying a baby. “Theo’s good, Vi. I just changed him.”

  “And this is how the club works.” Vi winks at me. “Someone’s always around to help with the messy jobs.”

  “Messy it certainly was.” The girl twitches her nose, but she’s smiling. “I’m Jayden, Jay,” she introduces herself, still holding the youngster in her arms as though reluctant to relinquish him. “I love babies and I really don’t mind helping out.”

  “When are you and Pal going to have one of your own?” Jeannie presses her.

  “Got plenty of time to start a family.” Her eyes light on what’s on the table, and once again her lips curve. “I enjoy giving them back.” To make her point, she passes Theo to his mother, then starts opening containers and looking at the goodies I’ve brought.

  Skull tugs my hand. “Want to meet Prez?”

  No, but I suppose I have to.

  “It’s alright. He doesn’t bite,” Vi tells me with a smile. “Well, not too hard, anyway.”

  “I don’t think I want to know,” murmurs Skull, pulling me out of the room.

  “They seemed nice,” I remark as he leads me across a room I view with interest. A couple of men are playing pool, completely engaged in their game, and not watching us. The whole of one wall is taken up by a bar, and there are matching sofas, chairs and tables. It’s better furnished than I expected a biker’s clubhouse would be. Strangely it smells of fresh paint and can only recently have had a makeover.

  Skull knocks at an office door, waits until a voice calls out permission, then pushes it open. “Prez, this is Melissa. Melissa, Demon. My prez.”

  The women were welcoming. The prez though, his glance is assessing, as if I’m yet to prove myself. His eyes look me over, then meet Skull’s. “All good?”

  “Yeah, she’s met Vi, Jeannie and Jay. Oh, and she brought cookies and shit.”

  He grins, his face transforming. “Trying to bribe us, Melissa?”

  “I, er…” That’s exactly what I’m doing. So, I shrug. “I like cooking.”

  He comes around and perches on his desk. I notice there’s a huge flag behind it carrying the same insignia as Skull wears on his cut, Lucifer with a scythe hovering over three little devils.

  “Now Jeannie can cook and get the sweet butts churning out good grub, but they don’t bother with the fancy stuff. Reckon we can find a place for your talents.”

  “I do work,” I tell him, defending myself.

  “She’s got a good job in the government offices, land registry or some such shit.” Skull sounds proud.

  Prez nods and grins, “So you said, but if Melissa has got any spare time…”

  “I’ll keep you in muffins,” I laugh.

  “Good enough. Skull, you’ve got that job on later…?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there, Prez. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “While Skull’s working, Melissa, you’re welcome to hang around and get to know us.”

  As Skull had explained, if I’m going to be accepted here, I’ll have to show my face. “I’d like that. Thank you, Prez.”

  “Nah, Demon to you. Only these fuckers have got to jump to my word and give me my title.” He laughs, jerking his head toward my man.

  “I like him,” I tell Skull as we walk out. “I wasn’t sure I was going to, not with a name like his. But he reminds me a bit of my Chief Exec.”

  Skull chuckles. “Probably describes him well. Though I’d say he was a CEO with an edge.” His face tautens momentarily, then is masked quickly by a smile. “Want to see my room now?”

  I nudge him. “Your etchings?”

  A chuckle. “Yeah, right.” He winks.

  He leads me up an industrial looking staircase with doors off to the left and the right. Halfway down he places a key in a lock and turns it. The room he reveals is pleasant enough, larger than I expected.

  Walking in I look around, knowing you can tell a lot from a person from the way he lives.

  “Tidy,” I comment, noticing there are no dirty clothes on the floor, and through the open door to the small adjacent bathroom, I see towels hanging neatly on the rail.

  “Um, yeah. Might have cleaned up.”

  “Well at least you know how to.” He should see the state of my house before he comes over.

  He clearly doesn’t want to waste time as he demands, “Want you naked.”

  “You do, do you?” I grin.

  “Well someone’s got to take care of this.” He rubs h
is hand over the bulge in his jeans, drawing my attention to it. “You being here in my club? Fuckin’ sexy as hell.”

  “Me being here with my man turns me on too,” I respond in a hoarse voice. Not that it takes much with Skull. One of those looks full of promise and I get a tingling inside.

  He goes over and lies on his bed. “Now show me what you’ve got, babe.” He’s been controlling before. Here, in his element, there’s even more of an edge to his voice.

  For some reason Skull thinks I’m beautiful, he’s told me so often I’ve started to believe it. To him my tits are just the right size, my thighs meaty enough to hold on to, and my cushioning around my waist a softness he admires. With him I’ve become far more confident, knowing baring my body will turn him on rather than off. Now I’ve no hesitation stripping for him, putting on a show which makes him groan.

  As I divest myself of my tee and jeans, he removes his cut and his shirt.

  “Get over here, woman.” Impatient, he moves forward, takes my hand and yanks me down onto the bed. “Need your lips.”

  We kiss, then he strips naked and gets to work. An orgasm on his tongue, followed by one with his fingers. I’m completely sated and languid when he enters me in one thrust. Momentarily unable to be an active participant, all I can do is give in to the sensation.

  Part of me retains enough sanity to stuff my hand in my mouth, but he pulls it away. “Don’t care who hears you screaming, Mel.”

  Soon, neither do I. Christ he feels good. He’s long enough to touch my cervix, not too thick to cause a burn, but he knows what he’s doing with what God endowed him with. As normal, I use my hand to make sure I’m there with him at the end, and yes, I do scream. It feels so good, I can’t hold back.

  He grunts and groans, and then it’s all over.

  He pulls out. And swears. Instead of leaving for the bathroom, he sinks back on his haunches and drops his head into his hands.

  “Skull?”

  “Didn’t use a fuckin’ condom.”

  I go cold as I feel our combined juices leaking out of me. “I’ll go clean up.” I get up jerkily as my brain tries to process what we’ve just done.