ANARCHY (Iron Kings MC, #4)

by Franca Storm

  What the hell was I saying?

  It sounded like I was claiming her. Was I? We’d just met. There was something about her that just called to me. But, still. What the fucking hell was coming out of my mouth?

  I shook my head. What did it matter? I was balls deep inside the tightest pussy I’d ever had squeezing the life out of my dick.

  I pumped in and out of her slowly, relishing the feel of her wet and warm pussy coating my shaft. She felt so fucking good, I couldn’t believe it.

  I released her right tit and slid my hand down to her pussy.

  She screamed the moment I found her clit and circled it, bathing it in her juices that were dripping from her. Jesus. She was so turned on.

  “I’m gonna make you come hard.”

  “Yes!” she gasped. “Yes, Damien!”

  I picked up my pace and started fucking her hard. She shrieked like a wild animal.

  “Ah!” she cried as I pounded into her, like a vibrating force of motion, my fingers working her clit over. “Amazing! Yes! I’m there!”

  “Turn your head.”

  She looked over her shoulder at me.

  “I want to see the look on your face when you come.”

  Her eyes were glazed over. She was drunk on bliss. And so was I.

  Her entire body shuddered and she screamed at the top of her lungs as her orgasm hit.

  Her grip was too much. Too fucking tight. I couldn’t hold on. She came along with me, so hard, her pussy violently milking my release out of me before I could stop it.

  Holy fuck.

  I pulled out.

  As soon as I looked down and saw the condom, I realized exactly why she’d been so tight.

  “You’re a virgin?”

  She turned around slowly, wrapping her arms around herself. She looked down at the ground, unable to look me in the eye.

  “Hayley?”

  “I was,” she murmured.

  “Jesus Christ. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She shrugged.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “What does it matter?” she snapped, raising her voice.

  I blew out a breath and walked into one of the stalls. As I took care of the condom and then fixed myself back inside my jeans, I told her over my shoulder, “Shit. I wasn’t gentle with you.”

  “I didn’t want you to be.”

  I turned back and returned to her. Reaching out and rubbing her arm gently, I told her, “You’re gonna hurt tomorrow. You should’ve just told me.”

  “You wouldn’t have fucked me then.”

  I hesitated.

  “See?”

  “Look, I wouldn’t have fucked you in a bathroom. And I would’ve gone way easier on you.”

  “Why? You hardly know me. Why do you care?”

  “Because I’m not an asshole. I don’t hurt women.”

  She took my words in and a small smile played on her sexy lips. “I was right. A badass with a sweet side.”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” I jested. “A real sweetheart.”

  The next thing I knew, she was throwing her arms around me and clutching me tightly to her.

  I wasn’t usually big on the whole hugging thing. But with her, in the moment, I actually found myself wanting to hold her. She felt good in my arms. Real good.

  I slid my hands up and down her back.

  A grunt escaped her.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, easing off.

  She lifted up the back of her shirt and touched her lower back. “Just my new tattoo. It’s sensitive.”

  Right, she’d gotten inked earlier today. I remembered catching a brief glimpse of it while we’d been fucking, but I’d been too distracted to take it in, so it’d just been a blur. “What did you get?”

  She turned so I could get a proper look.

  At first the design looked like a pair of wings, but as I peered closer, I saw they were actually the handlebars of a Harley. The word “free” filled the space between them.

  “Your turn.”

  I lifted my t-shirt to reveal the Iron Kings MC crest inked across my upper chest, over my heart.

  Her eyes went wide and she gasped and stepped back.

  The next thing I knew, she was snatching her panties off the floor and anxiously pulling them back up her legs.

  “What?”

  “Uh… nothing.”

  And then something occurred to me. “Are you connected to a rival club?”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “There is no direct rival club to Iron Kings, not now that the Rogue Riders MC is out of the picture. The club is all peaceable and everything.”

  “How do you—?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were a club member?” she screamed, cutting me off.

  “Why would I?”

  She turned away and ran her fingers through her hair. “Oh my God.” She reached for the door and threw it open.

  I dashed over to her and threw my arm out, before she could escape like a bat out of hell.

  “Stop, Damien. I have to go. Now. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  “What the fuck is wrong here?”

  “You aren’t wearing club colors. I figured you were just a hot guy in a leather jacket.”

  “You got a problem with bikers, is that it?”

  She shook her head. The look in her eyes was pure guilt as she told me, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know who you were, what you were. This never happened, okay?”

  “Shit, just tell me what’s up.”

  “We have to keep this a secret! Promise me!”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because he’ll kill you!”

  “Who are you talking—”

  The sudden rev of a bike shut us both up.

  Hayley’s eyes darted toward the door. “Shit!” She slammed her hand into my chest, knocking me back into the bathroom.

  The next thing I heard was a deep, gravelly voice barking at her, “What the fuck are you wearing, Hayley! Jesus Christ. You didn’t leave the house this morning looking like that.”

  “I… changed my outfit,” she responded in a squeaky voice.

  “You can’t be walking around like that, baby girl. And what are you doing in this shithole? You know it ain’t one of my places. It ain’t under my protection.”

  “I like it. Dad, I just needed to blow off some steam.”

  I heard him growl. “We’re leaving. Now.”

  Hayley’s heels clacked rapidly on the hardwood floor.

  I pushed out into the corridor when I heard the bike start back up.

  My breath hitched when I saw the guy riding it and pulling her on behind.

  That signature look with his denim cut, rather than the more standard leather, with a white long-sleeve tee underneath and more blue denim with his jeans, then the wild, spiky white-gray hair that gave a hint at him pushing sixty, he wasn’t a guy you missed in a crowd.

  And in my world, he stood out, no question.

  Fucking hell.

  She was his?

  The President of the Lone Outlaws Motorcycle Club.

  She was Hayley Calloway, the daughter of Linc “Python” Calloway.

  I’d just defiled the President’s virgin daughter.

  If anyone found out about what’d gone down here, I was a dead man.

  The curse had struck again.

  Trouble had found me all right.

  2

  ~Hayley~

  I HOPPED OUT OF THE TRUCK.

  I stretched out my arms and legs, then fixed my bra. It’d been digging into me from the way I’d been sitting, cramped in the poor excuse for a back seat.

  “Hayley!” Mom hissed at me.

  I turned to see her shaking her head. She stepped up to me and adjusted my low-cut gray muscle t-shirt, pulling it up to conceal some of my cleavage.

  “Mom! Stop!” I cried, moving back, out of her reach.

  “Close your jacket.”

  “No,” I said, shrugging the shoulders of my brown suede jack
et.

  “We’re at the clubhouse.”

  “And?”

  “And, I’ve told you how to present yourself around the men here.”

  Thankfully, Dad came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. He kissed the top of her head and said, “You’re doing it again, Jules.” With his big frame and the fact that he towered at least a foot over her five-foot height, it looked like a literal bear hug whenever he embraced her.

  “Linc,” she grumbled up at him.

  “Just let her be,” he said, playing with her long, auburn hair. “She’s safe here. No one touches the President’s daughter.”

  Argh. They were so infuriating. Talking about me as if I was some weak little thing who couldn’t protect herself.

  I rested my hands on the hips of my jeans and eyed the two of them. “Maybe I want them to touch me. There are some really hot guys in your club, Dad.”

  His dark-brown eyes narrowed dangerously. “Watch it.”

  “I’m serious. A couple of the prospects are smoking. And, of course, there’s Bow. And the guys visiting from Iron Kings.”

  Damien, for instance.

  “I’ll rip their fucking heads off! You want that happening to them, because of you?”

  Mom pulled out of his hold and a small smile spread over her face. “She’s just trying to get a reaction from you. Calm down.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t antagonize your father. You know how hard it is to calm him down when he gets worked up.” She mouthed, “His heart.”

  Instantly, a pang of guilt stabbed at me. His heart hadn’t been doing too well for the last couple of years. He’d been experiencing chest pains that’d had him in the hospital three times now. It was a combination of his ferocious temper, his inability to ever take a break from the club, and the fact that he’d spent most of his life chain smoking. Mom and I didn’t mention his heart around him, because it riled him up, but she and I had talked about it together. We were trying to do everything that we could to keep him calm and she worked really hard to keep him away from stressful situations. And, here I was now, blurting out things that I knew would make him angry. It was just so incredibly frustrating when they got so overprotective and controlling with me.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” I offered. “I didn’t mean any of it.”

  He breathed out a sigh and ran a hand through his spiky gray hair. He adjusted his denim cut, which always stood in stark contrast to the leather of the other members, then gave a nod. “Okay, baby girl. Just… you know I don’t want you going down that road. No bikers.”

  “What about Mom?”

  The two of them eyed one another.

  “That was different. And, as you know, it was a fucking nightmare. I don’t want that for you. We worked hard to keep you outta it all.”

  “We just want the best for you,” Mom told me, with a sweet smile. “You’re a college graduate now and we’re so proud of you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, returning her infectious smile. I’d earned my degree in Computer Science with a specialty in Network Security.

  Most of the time, Mom and I had a great relationship. But, whenever we came to the clubhouse, she got really intense. I loved my Dad to bits, but we fought a lot. He was far too overprotective. My only reprieve had been going away to college several hundred miles away. But now that I’d been back for a couple of weeks, all of that craziness was already starting up again.

  The clubhouse door opening with a cringeworthy squeak had the three of us turning in that direction.

  My heart stopped in my chest for a second or two and it was all I could do to prevent a gasp of surprise from escaping me.

  There he was, the guy I hadn’t been able to get out of my head for the last week.

  Damien.

  He was just as smoking hot as I remembered. In fact, my memories and imagination hadn’t actually done him justice.

  Those words he’d growled in my ear hadn’t left me. They’d be playing on repeat non-stop.

  “Gonna ruin you, lovely. Gonna have you craving me. You aren’t gonna want no other man after this.”

  It hadn’t just been bravado either. Holy shit, it hadn’t. He’d been right, so true to his word. I might’ve been a virgin that night, but I hadn’t been completely innocent and clueless. I had experimented in college with a couple of guys. But no one had compared to him. To us. That animal passion between us. That intensity. How down and dirty, yet, sweet he'd also been that night.

  God, he was breathtaking.

  His light-brown hair was wild on the top and closely cropped on the sides, just long enough to get a good grip on in the throes of passion. Those piecing deep-brown eyes of his delved right into the heart of me. That well-groomed chin strap that he somehow just managed to pull off, without coming off at all like a douchebag as some people who tried the look did, only added to the whole intensely rugged thing he had going on.

  He was wearing short-sleeves, just a gray t-shirt, so his gloriously inked right arm was on full display. A pair of ripped blue jeans did amazing justice to his sculpted ass as he turned and spoke to another couple of guys who were coming out of the club behind him. I didn’t recognize them and they were sporting Iron Kings MC cuts just like him.

  Seeing that had an ice-cold shower effect on the desire that’d been coursing through my body since I’d laid eyes on him.

  I watched Dad pull away and walk up to him, exchanging a few friendly words. Damien nodded and then my dad gestured for me to come over.

  Oh shit.

  I couldn’t help it and I hesitated.

  “Hayley. Come here, baby girl,” Dad pressed, eyeing me curiously about my seemingly odd reaction.

  Shit, keep it together, Hayley. I swallowed down my nerves and major uncomfortableness and forced myself to stride over there with the confidence I knew how to fake to perfection around all the tough guys in my dad’s life.

  Mom hung back and I could feel her watching me as I joined Damien and Dad.

  “You two ain’t met yet, right?”

  Avoiding my gaze, Damien informed him, “We actually met a week ago at Ink Maestro. We were both getting tats.”

  “That right?” Dad asked, surprised.

  Damien gave a nod of confirmation. “She pushed in front of me, took Ray away from me.”

  “Sounds like my girl,” Dad said with that throaty laugh of his.

  “Yeah. It wasn’t the best first impression,” Damien said idly.

  He still wouldn’t look at me.

  What the hell was his problem?

  He was acting like he hated me.

  I got that we couldn’t tell my dad what had happened between us, or show any indication of being intimately familiar with one another, but what he was doing now was really extreme.

  Dad started laughing and it quickly turned into a coughing fit. He grabbed his chest. Mom and I exchanged a worried glance. But, then it was over in the next second, before either of us could say anything, or make a move.

  “Python?” Damien said, laying his hand on Dad’s shoulder. “All right?”

  Dad waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, all good.”

  I hadn’t expected anything less. Dad wouldn’t show weakness to anyone, not his own club members, and especially not to visiting members of another club.

  He reached out his hand to Mom. “Babe,” he called sweetly to her. She went to him and took his hand. “We’re gonna head inside. You good to talk to Hayley about that thing we discussed?”

  Damien tried to hide how uncomfortable he was with hanging back alone with me, but I noticed it. “Yeah,” he said, sounding way more confident and upbeat than he looked to me.

  Mom and Dad made their way inside the clubhouse.

  The door shut behind them, leaving just the two of us alone together.

  Damien shifted his weight.

  He reached into his cut and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here,” he grunted.

  I took it from him and opened it to see a list of location
s, places around the City of Taunton.

  “What’s this?”

  “A list of places your old man doesn’t want you setting foot in.”

  What the hell? Argh!

  I scanned the list. “Ink Maestro is on here.”

  “Yeah,” he said, simply, crossing his arms over his chest and still not making direct eye contact. He kept just looking past me.

  “But… why?” I mumbled to myself.

  “That’s between you and your old man. But, if I had to guess, it probably got him pissed off about that tat you had inked on your lower back.”

  “What? Why?”

  He drew in a breath, then, for the first time, he looked right at me.

  Right away, I wished he hadn’t, because the look in his eyes cut into me.

  Hatred.

  Anger.

  Ice.

  “Yeah. Some people call it a tramp stamp. A bunch of club whores have them. That’s why he doesn’t like it on his daughter.”

  I flinched at his explanation. “I got it there, because the handlebars in the design fit perfectly.”

  “I get that.”

  “You do?”

  His gaze softened briefly as he admitted, “I don’t judge and I’m not that narrow-minded. I get why you got it.”

  “Damien, I—”

  He held up his hand, that hard, unforgiving expression back all of a sudden. “Just keep to that list and it’ll make both our lives easier.”

  “Both? What does that mean?”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face, looking like he was trying to reel in his aggravation. Then he explained, “Turns out you’re the expert I’m here to work with. Security overhaul? Seeing as though we’re gonna be working together, your old man wants me doing your protection too. Your usual go-to security, Grim, is gonna be busy with overhauling human security and bringing it up to par.”

  My dad had mentioned that he had a job for me to do in my field that would help me get off the ground and beef up my resume. I’d thought it was going to be something minor, functioning as an excuse to keep me close by. But this was a huge deal. It meant he did trust me then. Outside of me and my mom, there was nothing more important to him than the club. He wouldn’t have put me on this if he didn’t have faith that I could do a good job.