Devil Dick (BRRMC Roadhouse Tales Book 1)

by Glenna Maynard

  “If you say so.”

  “I love Matt.”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  Chapter 3

  Two months later

  ~ Camreigh~

  “Are you okay, babe?” You don’t look so hot. Tina touches the back of her hand to my forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

  I frown. “I’m just nauseated. I think it’s a stomach bug.”

  “What did you eat?” She picks at the Styrofoam takeout box on the counter.

  “Nothing. That’s from yesterday. My stomach was queasy the moment I rolled out of bed.”

  Tina takes my hand in hers as I lay my head on the counter. “You don’t think you could be you know?”

  “No. I don’t know. Think I could be what?” I look up at her and regret it as my head starts feeling fuzzy. My stomach lurches and I run for the bathroom. Down on my knees I lean over the porcelain bowl and dry heave.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “I don’t know a few days maybe.” My stomach rolls and I gag but nothing comes up.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way but could you be pregnant?”

  I squint at her as my head throbs. “What?” I croak. “Pregnant? Me? No way. Not possible.”

  “You sure because I don’t think you have food poisoning or a stomach bug?”

  My face grows warm. There’s no way. The doctor said it wasn’t even a possibility. I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’ve been told most of my life that I would never have children. I just…what the hell will I do?”

  “First things first. You aren’t going to panic. We are going to get you a test and then we will figure it out from there. Okay?”

  I take a breath and try not to cry. “Okay. You’re right. I’m a big girl. I got myself into this. I can get myself through it.”

  My bestie’s mouth moves from a tight line into a half smile. “That’s the spirit.”

  “What would I do without you?”

  “Be in jail or dead.” She grins and I try not to laugh because my stomach still feels gross. “Get cleaned up and we’ll make a pharmacy run.”

  An hour later I am pacing the kitchen floor of my apartment. “Is it time?”

  “Another three minutes.”

  I twist my fingers together. “Why is this taking so long?”

  “Camreigh, just breathe, babe.”

  “Easy for you to say. You might not be pregnant by some biker you had a one-night stand with. And need I remind you I don’t even know his fucking name. How embarrassing is that?”

  “You won’t be the first or last single mother. Though I guess you could always go back to that bar and see if you run into him.”

  I snap my eyes shut and bite back my tears. What the hell am I going to do? I’m in no way, shape, or form prepared to be a mother. I work part time at a daycare. I struggle to support myself as it is. I’m on the verge of an eviction notice every month. I don’t have any savings. I’m a damn mess.

  The timer on her cellphone beeps. “It’s time.”

  I suck in a breath and walk into the bathroom. I grab the two plastic sticks and shove them toward Tina. “You look. I don’t think I can.”

  “Fine. You big baby.” She takes the two tests and looks at them with a straight face.

  “Well? No. Wait. Don’t tell me yet. I’m not ready.” I shake my hand and suck in a breath. “Okay. Just give it to me straight. I’m a big girl I can handle it.”

  I look at my best friend in the whole world not knowing what I want her to tell me. I have gone my whole life thinking that a child of my own was out of the question and now there is a possibility that it could happen. Part of me wants to be like wow but then the practical side of me knows that I’m not ready for the responsibility, but who is?

  “Do you want to sit down?”

  “Just tell me!”

  “Congrat…ulations,” she says the word slow and uneasy. “You’re pregnant. Both are positive.”

  I think I am going to pass out. “I need to sit down.” I collapse on the couch and put a hand to my forehead. I feel faint.

  **

  One month later

  “Oh man.” I gag and sniffle as dust motes swirl around my face. “When was the last time anyone was in here?” I look to my Uncle Cooter for an answer, but he ignores me. I fan my arms around hoping to clear some of it away but don’t have much success. I look down at my fingers and wipe the muck off on my pant leg. My jeans are filthy anyway from moving these old boxes and crates around that have probably been sitting in this room longer than I’ve been alive.

  “Cooter, you around?” I hear a deep voice boom as heavy footsteps start thundering up the stairs. A shadow falls over the doorway. I look over and my eyes land on large black boots attached to long thick legs. My eyes flit up to his broad chest that is covered in a leather vest over a white tight-fitting t-shirt with the name Saw sewn onto it that houses two very tattooed and muscular arms. “Cooter,” the deep voice barks again at my hard of hearing uncle.

  “What?” the old man crows.

  “Rebel said you needed some help.” Our eyes meet and he rolls his lips inward. Saw has dark hair that flops over his forehead but is cut short on the sides and just enough stubble on his jaws that it would tickle my thighs. I blush at the thought as his green eyes move over me.

  “Yeah. My niece, Camreigh, is moving in. Whatever she needs you do it. Got it.” He shoves past him without another word. My uncle is a grouchy old bastard, but I love him.

  “Got it.” Saw enters the small apartment over the bakery. It belonged to my cousin, Owen and his partner Jude but they’ve been in California for years and aren’t returning anytime soon. Aunt Char has used the place for storage for her bakery downstairs.

  “Camreigh, like the car?” he wears an amused grin.

  “No, as in the girl who will be riding your ass today to do the heavy lifting. Can you handle that?”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  I plant a hand on my hip. “A cookie.”

  “A cookie?” He chuckles with a shake of his head and runs his fingers through his hair brushing it back from his forehead. The action is wasted. The dark strands fall back in place.

  “Works on my kids.”

  “You don’t look old enough to have kids.”

  “They aren’t technically mine. I worked at a daycare.” I don’t know what he’d know about it.

  “Got it. Where do I start?” Saw cracks his knuckles, and I wonder if it is short for Sawyer.

  “Char said everything goes to the dumpster. You can start clearing these boxes out, and I’ll be scrubbing this place down.”

  “Sounds good.” He starts moving stuff out, and I grab some spray cleaner and an old dust rag from the bag of cleaning supplies Char sent up with Cooter. If they hadn’t volunteered to let me move into this old apartment, I don’t know what I would have done. Cooter is my father’s older brother. There was about fifteen years between them. Cooter said he always thought he’d be the one to go first but it was my father who had a heart attack at the age of forty-four and passed away a few years ago.

  I get started in the kitchen. Wiping down the countertops, the cabinets, the stove, and lastly the refrigerator. I’m already starting to sweat. I lift the hem of my tank top and use it to wipe my forehead.

  “Want me to open a window?” I freeze when I hear Saw talking. I forgot about him being here I was so caught up in my task.

  Quickly, I put my shirt down, and I know my face must be red, I just flashed the man my tits and my growing belly. “Sorry.”

  “I don’t mind pretty tits but if you’re hot I can…” he hooks his thumb toward the windows in the living room.

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He opens the windows, and I try not to melt into the floor in mortification.

  We continue to work quietly until he takes a break. “You got anything to drink in that fridge?”

  “There’s a six pack Cooter l
eft. You’re welcome to it.” I open the fridge and grab a bottle. He accepts the beer and pops the cap off on the end of the counter. I take a sip of my bottled water.

  A wry smile crosses his features after he takes a long pull from the bottle. Déjà vu sweeps over me, and I close my eyes. Something about Saw is so familiar. His brows furrow, and he watches me as I take another swig of my water trying to recall why I recognize him. I look over at his cut again. Black Rebel Riders’ MC. The name must stick out because my uncle is a member. I always knew he rode a motorcycle but never knew he belonged to an actual club until my father died and some of his brother showed up for the funeral.

  “I know you,” he states coolly. “Have we fucked?”

  I nearly spit out my drink and cover my mouth with the palm of my hand as the liquid spews from between my lips. “You really went for it. Uh no. I think that is something I would remember.” I look at him again and fuck. Fuck me hard. Wait…he already did. My hand goes to my stomach. My mind drifts back to three months ago—he didn’t have a full beard then.

  Chapter 4

  ~Sawyer~

  I stare at Cooter’s niece. I definitely know her. “It’s you.” I point at her. “You came into the Roadhouse, and I took you back to my place. You wouldn’t tell me your name.”

  Her cheeks slowly grow from a soft shade of pink to a deep crimson. “Okay. You got me. Let’s not make this weird, okay?”

  I shrug. It’s no skin off my back. “Whatever you want.” I wink and remember how good she felt beneath me when we fucked. Her sweet pussy wrapped around me like a damn glove. Wouldn’t mind tapping that again. Wouldn’t mind it one bit. “I got all the trash out. You ready for me to start bringing your stuff up?”

  “Please.” She grabs a set of keys off the top of the fridge. “These are for the moving truck.”

  “Got it.” Her soft fingers brush mine, and I remember the way her nails dug into me when I sank deep inside her. Never thought I’d see her again. Something about her is different though. I go down to the truck and open up the back. I’ll never get that couch up the stairs on my own, and I doubt a dainty thing like her can be much help. I pull my cell out of the back pocket of my blue jeans and dial Vegas.

  “Yo, fuck face,” he growls on the other end of the call.

  “Get your ass to the back of the bakery. Need your help moving some shit.”

  I could have called a prospect but Rebel, my club Prez has their asses doing other shit. I focus on the smaller boxes until my ass wipe brother arrives. When I get back up the stairs with two of the boxes labeled kitchen, I find Camreigh standing at the sink wiping the back of her neck with a wet paper towel. Her blonde hair is swept up on top of her head in a messy knot, her eyes are closed, and her lips are parted. It’s a sexy fucking sight.

  I clear my throat and put the boxes on the counter. “Getting the little stuff until my buddy arrives to help with the couch and bed.”

  “Okay. Great. Thanks, Saw. Is that short for Sawyer?”

  “Yup. I’m just gonna…,” I trail off, hooking a thumb over my shoulder at the door. I don’t know why she has me all twisted up inside and feeling damn near flustered. It’s like the second I look at her my dick remembers her and stands at attention doing all my thinking for me.

  For being one person, she sure has a lot of shit. I make seven more trips packing boxes, lamps, and garbage bags full of clothes and shoes. In the back of the truck next to the couch is the frame for a crib. I scratch my head, but she did say she worked at a daycare maybe she babysits or some shit.

  Vegas finally shows his sorry ass and before we start moving the big stuff, I warn him. “Listen, no funny business with Cooter’s niece.”

  Vegas shoots me a toothy grin. “She hot?”

  “Fuck yeah she’s hot and of limits to your sorry ass,” I growl.

  “Did Cooter say something?”

  “No, motherfucker, I did. Now move your ass and help me pack this couch.”

  “You get your period because you’re acting like a damn bitch.”

  “Fuck off.” I snarl. We get the tan leather couch up the stairs and it’s a real pain in the ass to get through the narrow doorway. “Where do you want this?” I look to Camreigh.

  “Against that wall.” She stops mid putting a stack of plates in the cabinet. Her shirt rides up showing off a sliver of her stomach.

  Vegas nearly drops the couch and runs across the small room to introduce himself. Bastard better back off. He’s not getting anywhere near her. “Name’s Vegas. Fuck face here told me not to be talking to you, but I’m not a rude asshole like he is.” He shoots her a smile and grabs her hand to kiss her knuckles. A low growl vibrates from me. I don’t know what the hell my problem is or why I feel possessive over a bitch I fucked one time who didn’t even want to give me her name and who acts like the last thing on earth she wants is for anyone to know we’ve fucked.

  “Come on. We still have the mattress and box spring to get and a trunk and dresser.”

  “We’ll talk more later.” He winks at her and I smack the back of his head. The hell they will. “The fuck, man?”

  “Just move your ass.”

  Camreigh is looking at me funny and a knot forms in my chest. Is she remembering the night we spent together? Goddamn she has me feeling like some sort of pussy whipped bitch and its been months. I gotta say that sex since then hasn’t measured up at all. My dick hasn’t been the same since. I don’t know what the hell to do about it. I kept brushing shit off because I never thought I’d see her again but now she’s here.

  I’ve never wanted an old lady and not sure that I ever will but there is something about her that makes my cock ache to be back inside her. Shit is usually the other way around. Bitches are usually chasing me down wanting more. She’s different. The way she is staring at me I don’t know if she hates me or wants to fuck my brains out again. I shove off from the counter and grab Vegas by the back of the neck and push him out the door.

  We get down to the truck and I get in his face. “I told you. She’s. Off. Limits.”

  “Damn. Why you all up on me? You fucking her or something?” He eyes me. “You already tapped that. Fuck. I knew you worked fast but I gotta hand it to you.” He holds his fist up for me to bump. “She turn you down?” He chuckles. “Don’t sweat it, man. Happens to the best of us. Not me but we’ll get you a whore later at the Roadhouse. You’ll forget all about her.”

  “Let’s just get this shit moved. I’m ready for a drink and some pussy.” Only the pussy on my mind is upstairs. She may have been easy the first time, but I have a feeling now she’ll be anything but that.

  We work quickly to get the bed up the stairs but have to nearly bend the mattress in half to get it through the doorway and down the tiny ass hallway. As soon as Vegas helps me situate the bed he jets, saying he has shit to do. I know what he’s doing—leaving me alone with Camreigh.

  I’m not going to complain though she might protest. Maybe the sex wasn’t as good for her as it was for me. Nah, I know it was damn good.

  I overhear Vegas turn down her invitation to stay for some pizza as thanks for helping. I wait a minute till he’s out the door then walk down the hall to the bathroom and wash my hands. Camreigh’s been busy unpacking things as fast as I brought them in. The place is starting to look like a home.

  Back in the living room and kitchen area she is plopped down on the couch with her feet to the side of her rubbing her calves. I can tell she’s exhausted. It has been a long tiring day.

  I take up the other end of the couch and pull her feet into my lap and start rubbing. She smiles at me and lets out a groan. “That feels amazing.”

  Chapter 5

  ~Camreigh~

  Sawyer fills the other end of the couch and starts rubbing my feet. His strong hands feel too good to turn down right now. I know I should put a stop to this. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. I’m freaking out on the inside that he’s here. That I am seeing him again and that he
belongs to the same motorcycle club as my uncle. My cheeks heat up when I let out an embarrassing moan of appreciation. It’s just his touch feels amazing. I’m having his child and the man has no clue. I don’t know what to do. I don’t have to tell him today. I’m not showing yet. I don’t know anything about him, but maybe we can talk, and I can find out what kind of person he is and then make a choice.

  “You okay?”

  “Just tired.”

  “No. You seem different. Got something on your mind?”

  He’s too damn observant. I wasn’t expecting this. When I called Aunt Char, she told me to that she had a position at the bakery for me and a place to live rent free. I only have to pay my utilities. Seeing him again wasn’t part of the plan. “How would you know? No offense but you don’t even know me. We had sex within an hour of meeting each other. And you couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.”

  “Maybe I’m just good at reading people.”

  “Maybe you should mind your own business,” I snap. My voice came out harsher than I intended but this—him being here is too much.

  He pushes my feet off his lap. “Think I’ll head out now.”

  “I think that would be for the best.” I move off the couch as he goes for the door. “Wait. You should take this. I won’t be drinking it.” I go to give him the last two bottles of beer. His fingers glide over mine and a tremble moves through me. My heart skips a beat at his touch. Sawyer’s other hand moves to my face, those rough fingers caressing my jaw as he gazes at me.

  The night we shared comes rushing back at me. The taste of his kiss. The bite of his fingers bruising my thighs. The weight of him pressing down on me. Warmth pools in my lower belly. The beer bottles drop to the hardwood flooring. One bottle shatters and the other rolls across the floor. Sawyer’s mouth comes crashing down on mine and all my doubts and reservations zip through the air like a deflating balloon. This is so stupid and yet I can’t stop myself from returning his kiss and shoving my tongue between his lips to dance with his. “I’ve regretted not asking for your number…for kicking you out right after…I wanted to turn around and come back for you that night, but I didn’t think you’d want me to.”