Bayou Devils MC: The Complete Series

by A. M. Myers

  “Condom,” he commands and I scramble over to the bedside table and grab one before tossing it to him. He rips it open and spreads it down his length before grabbing my arm again and helping me climb on top of him. Holding the base of his shaft steady, he guides me over him and I meet his eyes before slowly sinking down on top of him.

  “Shit,” he moans, his fingers digging into my hips and I moan loudly, loving the way he stretches me as I plant my hands on his chest and lift before sinking back down.

  “Chance,” I breathe, completely caught up in the moment, my mind blank except for the feeling of him moving inside me, and he reaches up, cupping the back of my neck and pulling me down to meet his lips. With one hand securely on the small of my back, he thrusts up into me and kisses me with so much passion I fear I may drown in it. His tongue twists with mine, teasing me with quick gentle flicks that never quite feel like enough and my fingers dig into his skin. He drives up into me, again and again, so fast each thrust just bleeds into the next, driving me out of my mind with a rapidly building release.

  “Oh, God,” I breathe against his lips. “Don’t stop.”

  “Not a chance, Princess,” he growls, nipping at my bottom lip as my back arches and my muscles tense. Two more quick thrusts and I cry out, white light exploding in my vision as my body clenches down on him.

  “Fuck.” He never slows his pace, allowing me to ride out my orgasm as he chases his own release and when I dig my fingers into his chest again, he grips my hips hard and tenses beneath me, groaning my name. I collapse on top of him and his arms wrap around me, holding me close as he presses his lips to my forehead.

  “Jesus, you give good head, baby.”

  I scoff, playfully slapping his chest. “Thanks.”

  “No, thank you.”

  Laughing, I slip off him and he peels the condom off before dropping it into the trash can and turning to face me, frowning when he sees how far away I am. He reaches out, wrapping an arm around my waist, and pulls me closer.

  “I have to get in the shower and get ready for work,” I say, making a face because I’d much rather stay in bed with him, which is another first for me.

  “Yeah, I gotta get going soon, too. Have breakfast with me first?”

  I shake my head. “We don’t do breakfast.”

  “We do now,” he says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “It’s my new rule.”

  “You can’t just make up new rules as we go along.”

  He grins, hopping out of bed and grabbing his jeans from the floor, sending me a wink as he pulls them on. “Watch me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Chance

  The blonde behind the counter smiles as she passes me a bag of food. “Have a good day, Sir.”

  “Thanks. You, too.” I take the bag and slip outside, eager to get back to Carly. I had intended to make her something for breakfast while she showered but all I found in her fridge was two bottles of wine and some funky smelling Chinese takeout so I had to improvise. Thank God, she lives downtown and the doorman was able to direct me to a great diner only a few doors down. I half expected her to refuse when I suggested eating breakfast together but maybe the fantastic sex last night and this morning made her a little more amenable. Or she’ll throw me out when I walk back in with the food – it’s a toss-up.

  As I pass by the doorman, I wave and he nods before turning back to the newspaper and coffee on his desk. Looking around the lobby, I can’t quite figure it out. From what I know about Carly, this doesn’t really seem like her tastes and she got fucking pissed the first time I called her princess so it just doesn’t add up. But you could say the same about a lot of things when it comes to her. One more thing I’m looking forward to uncovering about her, I guess.

  Instead of waiting for the elevator, I turn toward the stairs, too impatient to wait before getting back to Carly. It’s been thirty minutes since I left her bed, but my hands ache to touch her again and wrap my arms around her. It’s ridiculous how addicted I am to this girl. How the hell am I supposed to get through a whole day without seeing her if thirty minutes was so hard?

  God, last night was, hands down, the single best night of my life and if I didn’t know before I sank into her for the first time, I’m sure now that this can never be just sex. What we did, the way we connected, was more than just physical and I’ve never felt anything like it. But I know convincing her to give us a shot will take a lot of work.

  The hallway is quiet when I step out of the stairwell and I march toward her door, hoping she’s still as agreeable as when I left. Not that I don’t love her attitude but seeing a different side of her like I did last night and again this morning, is nice. More than nice. It satisfies this craving I have burning a hole in my stomach to get to know her. There’s so much more to her than meets the eye and the more I uncover, the more I want to learn.

  Opening her front door, I release a breath when I see her pouring coffee by the sink. She glances over her shoulder, her gaze dropping down to the bag in my hand, and relief flashes across her face before she hides it.

  “Oh, you’re still here.”

  Chuckling softly, I step inside and close the door behind me. “Yep. Just had to go get food since you apparently survive on wine alone.”

  “What is that smell?” she asks, sniffing the air as she turns to face me and lifts her coffee cup to her full lips.

  “Biscuits and gravy.” I hold up the bag and her eyes widen.

  “Wow,” she whispers, looking away from me as sadness creeps into her eyes. “I haven’t had it in forever.”

  I walk over to the island and set the bag down before pulling the foam containers out and setting them down. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Mine, too,” she admits and I meet her gaze, confused.

  “If it’s one of your favorites, why haven’t you had it in a long time?”

  She looks away, pursing her lips, something I’ve come to recognize as a sign she’s holding something back. I want to go to her but I’m afraid it will spook her.

  “My dad used to make it for my sister and me every Sunday. After he died, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to eat it anymore.”

  “Shit,” I say, staring down at the containers in front of me. “I’m sorry.”

  She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. It’s actually really nice.”

  I’m getting a rare look into a vulnerable side of Carly and I’m eating it the fuck up. Knowing she grew up without a dad, too, brings a few things into focus for me. She understands a part of me most people can’t.

  “How old were you when he died?” I ask, opening the containers and passing her one as she grabs a couple forks from the drawer. She sighs and I wonder if I pushed her too far.

  “He died on my sixth birthday.”

  Holy shit.

  “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  She clears her throat, looking away from me to hide her face as she wipes away a stray tear.

  “I think that’s enough about me today. Let’s dig into your past now.”

  I laugh, hoping to lighten the mood and hold my arms out wide. “What do you want to know?”

  Cool gray eyes study me for a moment before she smirks. “Explain the biker thing to me because from what I know about you, it doesn’t really fit.”

  I nod. “Everything was different when I first joined up.”

  “How so?”

  Shaking my head, I remember how out of control my life was back then. “I patched in when I was nineteen and I was a real angry kid. I hated the whole damn world and blamed it for all my problems. The club back then was completely different, too. They were mixed up in all kinds of bad shit – drugs, guns, all of it. Honestly, I’m so damn lucky I made it to this point without dying or ending up in jail because back then, I didn’t care if I lived or died.”

  “What changed?” she asks, understanding in her eyes and I wonder what other secrets she has buried.

  “Blaze, our club pr
esident, got shot and decided to take the club in a different direction. We got out of all the illegal shit and started a security business.”

  “What changed for you?”

  I meet her eyes, wishing I was next to her so I could wrap my arms around her while we talk but I’m not sure how open she’d be to that.

  “Jerry got me into boxing. Turns out it’s really hard to be mad at the world when you’re too exhausted to even move. That and the work the club does now really pulled me out of a dark place.”

  She cuts into her biscuits, closing her eyes and savoring the taste as she takes a bite. When she opens her eyes again, she flashes me a shy smile.

  “What does the club do now?”

  “We help people escape from bad or dangerous situations.”

  Tilting her head to the side, she studies me. “Like women in abusive relationships?”

  “Most of the time, yeah, but it could be anyone who needs our help.”

  “And how do you find these people?”

  I smirk. “Is this an official interview?”

  She blushes and shakes her head. “Sorry, no. I’m just curious.”

  “It okay,” I assure her. “Most of the time, they find us but sometimes, we’re contacted by family members or friends and then we reach out to the person in trouble.”

  “What y’all do is amazing.”

  “Well, thank you but it feels a little selfish sometimes.”

  She scowls, studying me as she takes another bite of her breakfast. “Why?”

  “We each have our own personal reasons for doing it and I think we need it as much as the people we help do.”

  “I don’t think that makes it selfish,” she says, shaking her head. “Every single person has motivations for why they do anything. Why do you do it?”

  Sighing, memories from my childhood come flooding back and I shake my head. “Before my mom met Jerry, she dated a long string of losers who would rather talk with their fists and all I could do was watch it happen. I wasn’t big enough to protect her and I hated it. After she met Jerry, things were really good for a while and I finally had the family I had wanted my entire life but it’s like she was too jaded or something by the other guys because she just couldn’t accept Jerry’s love for her and she kicked him out. After that, she started drowning her sorrows at the bottom of a bottle and she was never able to crawl out again.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking and I glance up, surprised by the tears shining in her eyes. As if on cue, she glances away from me and squares her shoulders. “I’m going to be late for work.”

  Before I can say anything else, she turns and walks back into the bedroom, closing herself off from me once more.

  * * * *

  Me:

  You free tonight?

  I sigh, staring down at the text I sent her this morning that’s still unanswered before slipping my phone in my pocket and running my hand through my hair. Two days ago, she came alive in my hands and opened herself up to me in a way I never expected but maybe I pushed her too hard, too fast because now, I can’t get her to answer a single phone call or text. I’m slowly losing my mind and I’m tempted to just show up on her doorstep again and force her hand but I’m not that crazy…yet. Or maybe I am. I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of her and being deprived of her, now that I’ve had her underneath me, is torture.

  The thing is, Storm was partially right when he said I don’t commit but it’s not because I don’t want to. I guess you could call me a serial monogamist because for as long as I can remember, I’ve been looking for one thing. I jump into relationships quickly, hoping I’ll finally find what I’m looking for and when I don’t, it’s just as easy to end it. But nothing about Carly Mills is easy and I’m completely addicted. She’s different than any other girl I’ve ever met. All the woman has to do is look my way and I’ll do whatever she wants. If I’ve gotta beg, I’ll gladly drop down on my knees and plead for just another taste of her.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” Jerry says and I glance up at him as he works in the kitchen. With a shrug, I stand up and grab the plates to set the table. One thing Jerry has always insisted on, since the moment he came into my life, was a weekly family dinner. When I was younger, I would roll my eyes and pretend to hate it, but the truth was, it was what I’d always wanted. “Something on your mind?”

  “Nah. Not really.”

  He chuckles, leaning back against the counter while the spaghetti sauce simmers on the stove. “Come on, Kid. You’ve never been that good of a liar.”

  “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, Jer,” I tell him and he nods with a smirk on his face as he turns back to the sauce. He doesn’t buy it and I know it but I’m not sure I want to talk about it. Not that it really matters to Jerry. He’ll probably manage to pry it out of me before I leave tonight. It’s kind of annoying but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. After everything I’ve been through, I know how lucky I am to have him in my life.

  Jerry met my mom when I was twelve years old and I’m pretty sure the dude fell head over heels as soon as he looked at her. He was so different than all the other guys she had been with and he accepted me as his son so easily when he didn’t need to. I could have just been his girlfriend’s kid but that isn’t Jerry’s style. He showed up to the house with a baseball and a pack of cinnamon gum and because of him, I finally had a family. At the time, he owned a restaurant in town and he provided us with a stable life – something else I’d never had before. Plus, he cherished my mom, treated her like a queen but it’s like no one ever thought to tell her most men don’t talk with their fists and she started questioning his motives. Everything he did made her suspicious.

  Jerry doubled down and just tried to love her through it until she believed his feelings for her were true, but she never gave him the chance. One night just after my fourteenth birthday, I came home and she was throwing all his stuff out on the front lawn. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes as he packed his things that night, like his soul had just been shattered. Mom was never the same again either. She never went out on another date and she started finding her comfort in the bottom of a bottle. Just before I turned seventeen, she got drunk in the bath and drowned. Luckily for me, Jerry had been keeping tabs on us and petitioned the court to become my guardian the moment he learned about Mom’s death. As far as I know, he’s never dated again either. Even with all her faults, my mom was the only one for him.

  “Food’s on,” Jerry says, snapping me out of my thoughts as he sets the pot of spaghetti down on the table and hands me a beer.

  “Thanks.”

  He nods, gesturing to my plate as he sits down. “Dig in.”

  We’re quiet as we each dish food onto our plates and start eating.

  “All right,” he says after a few moments. “Spill.”

  “Spill what?”

  He shoots me a look and I sigh as I push the pasta around on my plate. How can he still make me feel like a damn kid sometimes? “I met someone.”

  “Ah, I see and this is bad because?”

  “It’s not bad,” I reply, shaking my head. “Just complicated.”

  He nods, indicating for me to continue.

  “Storm’s pissed at me. He’s dating her friend and he thinks it’ll screw up what they have if I mess things up with this girl.”

  “Storm will get over it. Boy’s always acted first and asked questions later.”

  I nod. “Yeah, but what if he’s right? I haven’t ever been able to commit to anyone.”

  “What about Trixie?”

  My jaw clenches and I shake my head. “Trixie was a mistake. And the exact reason this isn’t exactly a good time to be starting something with someone else.”

  He watches me quietly for a moment. “Do you regret meeting her?”

  “No.” I could never regret anything that happens with Carly.

  “Well, there’s your answer right there. Look, before I met your mom, I’d never ha
d a serious relationship, but everything changed for me when she walked into my life. Your past doesn’t define your future, Chance.”

  I nod, mulling over his words. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Now, I just have to convince her. She’s a little…difficult.”

  “Son,” he says, laughing, “The best things in life always are. Is this girl special?”

  “I think she is.”

  He nods, smiling warmly at me. “Then you do what it takes to make her yours and never give up. One of my biggest regrets is letting your mom walk away. Don’t end up like me.”

  I grab my beer, taking a pull as I watch him – hating the sadness in his eyes. “You ever thought about giving dating another shot, Jerry?”

  “No. Your mom… she was the one for me.”

  “Sorry,” I mutter, feeling guilty for the look in his eyes right now. He shakes his head.

  “Don’t be. Those two years I spent with her were the best of my life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Just don’t let your girl get away.”

  I smirk, feeling more confident. “I don’t intend to.”

  * * * *

  “Shut up, y’all!” Blaze yells out from the head of the table and a hush falls over the room as everyone turns to look at him. “Let’s run through what we’ve got going on this week.”

  I’m reminded of the story I told Carly a few days ago about how I joined the club and even though it started out rough, I know this is the right place for me. I hate to think what I’d be doing with my life without these guys and the work we do satisfies an urge in me to right some of the wrongs I endured as a child. I’ve learned so much about the way my mom thought and why she reacted the way she did to certain things. Knowing all that helped me let go of some of my anger toward her and I just wish she had lived long enough for me to help her.

  “Who’s up?” Blaze asks and Storm clears his throat as every head in the room swivels in his direction.