Kinsmen MC (Complete Series)

by J. C. Allen

  I spent the rest of the day reviewing notes for the class I had to teach. In a twelve-week summer session, we’d only have the time to do a few of the activities the professors would normally handle. I thought about assigning some writing and reading activities, but I found myself beating myself up for the perfect schedule.

  Next thing I knew, all day had passed, and Riley had returned. She was dressed in a sexy top that revealed her midriff and jeans with holes. I don’t even know how to dress for these things anymore.

  I ended up in jeans and a blue crop top that wasn’t too high on the stomach or low on my neck. My long brown hair curled up in loose waves; I added a minimal amount of makeup, but it was still different than the regular day. Still, there was definitely a feeling that I had been out of the game and didn’t really know how to handle such spots.

  “Oh, you look hot. I had no idea you could do this.” Riley whistled at me as I came out.

  “Thanks. You too.”

  I was underselling how I felt about Riley’s dress. She was way more put together than I was, but she knew what she was doing a hell of a lot more than I was. I was really only going to see that one guy, to be honest—and I had a feeling that if I spent two minutes with him, I’d quickly get bored and want to move on quickly.

  We left a short while later, and sure enough, when we pulled up, it was the exact same location as last time. There were even more bikes than last time; I never thought I would say this, but being in a bike made me feel uncomfortable, like we’d shown up to a sports car show on bicycles.

  Given that, I was even more focused on just the one guy. I wanted to get in, see if there was anything, and get on with the day.

  “Riley, I need your help with something,” I said. I need you to make this normal or quick, but not weird and slow.

  “Of course, girl. What’s up?”

  I took a second to gulp. I knew Riley well, but we hadn’t quite reached the point of discussing boys like this.

  But it had to happen at some point.

  “I saw this guy yesterday. He was looking at me. If I see him again…”

  Suddenly, the prospect of not just talking to the guy, but flirting with him, winding under him, and a whole lot more seemed very, very real. And it terrified me. This wasn’t just a game, a fantasy in my head—this was real, and if I saw him, it was going to happen.

  Was I ready for that?

  “I need you to keep me from talking to him.”

  She gave me a funny look, but by this point, we’d already walked up, shown our IDs to the bouncer, and walked the loud music and crowd. I had to shout to get her to hear me.

  “He was one of the biker dudes, I think.”

  “What did he look like?” she said as she led me to the bar.

  “Brown hair. Tall. Muscles.”

  I just described eighty percent of the guys here, I realized. Maybe it’s for the best that she doesn’t know. If you need this to happen…

  But…

  “So… why would it be bad to see him again?” she shouted.

  Did I really want to say? Did I really want to get into that right now, here in a nightclub, with everything going on?

  “Don’t worry about it, girl, I got you,” Riley said as just before ordering two drinks, which came out in record time—probably because we were two girls that no one recognized. “Come on, let’s go dance and just enjoy ourselves.”

  I didn’t even have time to protest before I was dragged along with her. Figuring I might as well make the most of the time, I swayed to the beat with her and… actually had fun.

  It had been a while. Top 40 songs, high school dance songs, club beats—they all blared, along with a healthy dose of 70s and 80s rock and roll and classical music. The bikers here certainly had a decently eclectic mix of music.

  And then I felt it.

  The feeling of being looked at.

  All of the doubt, all of the requests I had given to Riley—it all went out the door.

  I had to find it.

  I turned and looked until I met two eyes from across the bar. He wasn’t standing alone, but he was the only one I saw.

  And he was the only one that I wanted to see.

  His eyes were darker than I thought; his hair was thick and brown, flipped off to one side and windblown, probably from riding on his bike. He had on a white shirt under a leather jacket that looked worn but somehow still new, stretched over his wide shoulders and broad frame. His shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist and dark jeans, the buckle glinting under the roaming lights.

  Even better than I remembered—and I remembered him pretty damn well.

  “Isabelle, come on!”

  I jolted out of my haze to realize that Riley was tugging me back with her. I wasn’t really sure if I should have felt grateful or not that she was just doing exactly what I had asked of her.

  She found a quiet spot—relatively quiet, anyways—at the end of the bar.

  “Was that him?”

  What was I going to do, lie when I’m pretty sure the entire damn bar saw me gawking at him? His friends certainly had—that had to be the case.

  “Yeah…”

  I set my drink down. The vodka was definitely way too heavy; I already feel tipsy. And things were only going to get worse the more the night went on.

  Or better.

  Or was that the alcohol telling me that things would be better?

  “That’s Jaxson, you know.”

  I stared at Riley blankly. Was I supposed to know who Jaxson was? Was it like saying that was the president of the USA?

  “He’s the fucking president of the club.”

  Not so far off, it seems. Interesting.

  “How do you know this?” I said.

  “I’ve lived here for a long time,” Riley said with a growing smirk. “Everyone around here knows them. Him and his brothers.”

  She turned so we were both facing him.

  “I know you told me to keep you from talking to him, but I didn’t realize him was Jaxson. If you have a chance, girl? Go for it! Look at him! He’s fucking gorgeous. You should go for it.”

  And then, just like that, the feeling of how real it was came roaring back. Despite the rising buzz in me, despite the effects of the alcohol, I was suddenly feeling very sober about the reality of the situation. The president of a motorcycle club with a graduate student in theatre studies?

  That’s less likely to work than many of the plays I’ve created. And I’ve created some pretty wild shit.

  “No, thanks, Riley, it’s, just…”

  She was just about to say something, but she looked past me. Her eyes widened for a moment before she smiled wide at me.

  “Bathroom break!”

  And then, just like that, she was gone in the crowd. Damnit, Riley, did you have to do that? You know—

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  I shivered at the deep voice in my ear. It had a sharp rasp to it, an underlying tone of hardness. Darkness.

  But the right kind of darkness.

  The shiver continued down my spine and arms until I turned to find the source. Familiar dark eyes stared me down, but, close up, I could see that they were a beautiful brown—a deep brown. His jawline was even sharper this close, the square of his face and length of his neck. Thick, but not too stocky.

  And his smell… I inhaled sharply and it just about knocked me over, for it was as strong and intense as I dreamed—sharp cologne with soft smells of the wind and trees.

  There was no turning back now. I was sure that at some point, the rational, sober voice in my head would rear it’s ugly head, but for now…

  “S-sure.”

  He nodded his head back at the bartender, and in seconds, he came back with two cocktails that looked like… vodka-crans. It was as if Jaxson—if this was, indeed, Jaxson—had asked the bartender from the night before what I liked and made sure to have it arranged for me.

  “Thank you,” I said, sipping gingerly and nervously. />
  “I’m Jaxson.”

  The one and only. His hand came across between us. I took it, but it isn’t just a shake. It feels like an announcement of his presence, like he’s now going to be with me and there’s going to be no changing that.

  “Isabelle.”

  “You were here yesterday,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  He had a good foot on me, and he towered down over me to look back at me. I couldn’t say it was fear that I felt, but there was certainly a kind of acknowledgment that Jaxson could do whatever he wanted. And yet, to be frank, I didn’t worry that he would.

  “You’re new around these parts.”

  I knew people would call me out for that.

  But how can they not?

  “Yeah, I just got here last month.”

  He wasn’t just any other man. He was more than hot; he was sexy and mysterious. He exuded confidence, more so than I ever could or most men ever could.

  Yet, he was right here talking to me when there were plenty of other women in this bar. Hotter than me, for sure. Tall and confident with tight clothes.

  Or maybe he’s just already made his way through them and I’m new to the market.

  Still, even with that thought having crossed my mind, there was something undeniably arousing about this moment.

  “I thought so. You ever been here before?” he said, swallowing his drink.

  “No. Not until yesterday. My car broke down and I needed a place to wait. It was just a little cold, you know, and so, I, uh, I chose to come here, and, yeah.”

  I’m rambling. Nothing I can do about it now. That’s what alcohol does to me. I ramble.

  Even in my thoughts, it seemed.

  “Our mechanic is a lot nicer than that crook across the street. I bet he charged you way too much for it.”

  “Yeah, probably,” I said, laughing, but it wasn’t particularly funny—I was more just taken in by what was going on with Jaxson right now.

  He stepped closer to me. My instinct, that sober voice, was to pull away…

  But instead, I moved closer too. I smelled his cologne even more and the alcohol on our breaths. His hand slinked around my waist the same time his fingertips brushed mine. I was losing control of myself and giving it to him, but the more that it happened, the more it was a trade I was more than willing to make.

  The zap of his skin on mine about set me aflame and made my head spin. He reached down closer until his lips brushed against my ear and the heat of his breath ran down my neck. It was unbelievable how confident a man like this could act. I had never had anyone act so boldly with me—it felt like something out of a romance novel.

  It was something I could scarcely believe. The sober voice vanished. It—

  “You shouldn’t come around here anymore.”

  What?

  Told you.

  No, really, what the hell?

  I furrowed my brows, thinking I had heard him wrong. I pulled back, staring at the profile of his face until he turned and his eyes met mine.

  Unfortunately, his eyes were not the eyes of someone who had misspoken.

  “What?”

  I really thought he would say something else—something about how he wants to fuck me, or knows that I want to fuck him. The way his fingers laced with mine and his hand clinched my waist… that was not what I expected him to say.

  It stung. It really fucking stung.

  And through it all, there was only one question, one word that came to mind.

  Why?

  “People like you… this place is no good for you,” he said.

  His face was stern. I knew he meant it. I could see the harshness in his eyes and found it hard to still look away.

  But now the sober voice in my head wasn’t looking to agree with him; no, that would be giving him power over me he hadn’t earned.

  Instead, it was a lot more pissed off than before.

  “Fuck you,” I said, trying in vain to sound half as confident as him. “I can go anywhere I want to. I’m not some dumb little girl.”

  I pulled away from him, but he gripped my fingers tighter. Why is he telling me to leave yet holding me close?

  “Don’t take it the wrong way, it’s not that I don’t like you,” he said, keeping a seductive scowl on his face. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. You’re too good for this place. You aren’t like these other women. They want the danger. You don’t need that.”

  I should have known rationally that he was right. I was a white-collar, artistic intellectual looking to learn more; I had probably nothing in common with these biker folk. They would be a part of my life for the next few years while I went through school, but as soon as I moved out, they would be as distant and removed as anyone else.

  But right now, I hated the fucking idea that this guy had the gall to flirt with me, stare at me across the hall, and try and make me his, only to give me some mansplaining about how I couldn’t stay with him. Fuck that.

  “So you think you’re dangerous, is that it? You came to talk to me. You were staring at me.”

  But he refused to engage in me. He just hook his head.

  “You should go. It’s for your own good.”

  This time, he let my fingers go. I was still, however, frozen in place. His scowl only deepened, his jaw hardened, and he stared me down. My chest heaved with the anger in my breath, but he didn’t move a muscle. He had no regrets about what he said.

  I wonder why I even care. Why it matters. Why I’m still standing here.

  And why I’m letting him do this to me…

  3

  Jaxson

  I couldn’t watch her walk away.

  If I did, I knew I would just run and grab her, have her come back. I knew it didn’t make any sense, but I felt like both sides of me were fully true—it was true that I wanted her, craved her, lusted after her. But it was also true that what little I knew of her told me she was incredibly smart, had a future, and knew where she was going—that already put her far ahead of the rest of this small town.

  When I finished racking my brain trying to explain it, I walked away before I even could see her turn around. I sincerely hoped she took my word and left.

  Maybe I could have been nicer about it, maybe I should have just left it alone to begin with. But my conscience and the part of me that could never be held back didn’t know how else to handle things. I knew what kind of women came in here, what kind of women were fit to become old ladies and could live this kind of life. She wasn’t one of them.

  Nor, for that matter, should she try to be one of them.

  Her kind brown eyes needed to stay kind. Her sweet and innocent aura needed to stay innocent. My lifestyle hardened everyone, even the best of souls. Even my father said it got to my mother.

  I almost couldn’t believe it had happened to Mom, but I didn’t want to watch it happen either to someone whom I had an attraction to. I know that if it wasn’t me, it might be someone else there. But I saw how she looked back at me.

  And that just made it so much harder.

  I saw how she lost herself in my eyes, even if for only a moment. When I touched her, and her pliable body reacted to mine so easily. I still felt her softness, could still smell her lilac scent and replay her biting her bottom lip. I didn’t even know what it is about her.

  I didn’t know what the fuck had gotten into me, other than that it was something that I thoroughly enjoyed… but something I knew I couldn’t accept and have around. It was like pizza with all the toppings—delicious in the moment, but to have it every day would help no one.

  “Prospect,” I said, deepening my voice, adding a strain to it that I only used when I have to exert my authority.

  The closest prospect turned around, wearing a leather jacket without our cut. He was young, but I didn’t know his exact age; sometimes he would say surprisingly wise stuff, and I would think he was older than me. I knew his real name was Kevin and that he had once had a promising career as a city pl
anner, but shit had happened and he had joined us.

  It wasn’t my job to ask questions about why, anyways. It was my job to make sure he was fit to join the club and go from there.

  “Yeah?” he said, coming to me like an eager puppy.

  “Stay here,” I said, and then I hunted another prospect down.

  I just needed something to distract myself from Isabelle. I couldn’t have my mind focused on her. Even though we were here to party, I just needed to do some club business stuff—the better to help me get my mind away from the craziness of it all.

  I found the next one by a table in the back. He was talking to a group of ladies, and I immediately know why he wanted to join this club—it wasn’t for the bikes he could ride, but for the girls who could ride him. And, unfortunately, that meant that he wasn’t going to be a good prospect for us. I knew the time had come for us to whittle down our prospects, and it had arrived.

  I went back to Kevin.

  “We thought you’d be a good fit for the club,” I said. “But there’s a bit longer to go. You know, the usual prospect time. However, the other guy doesn’t know he’s out. So don’t say anything on the way out.”

  For some reason, that made him pike up more than he was before. He smirked before muttering under his breath, “got it.” He then skipped away when I waved him away. I knew things would take care of themselves—just hopefully in a relatively peaceful manner.

  Unfortunately, my temporary distraction for myself hadn’t done much good in actually distracting me from Isabelle. I still found myself scanning the room, trying to see where she had gone—or maybe where her friend went; if her friend was here, it was highly likely that Isabelle was still here. But I didn’t see her, although in a bar this crowded, that really didn’t mean she was definitely gone.

  It was kind of a shame too—she was very attractive and very alluring. It was just too bad that she was too smart, too well-put together, too… normal for her to ever be here. It might have been fun to have her around for a month or two, but then shit would inevitably make it difficult for us to work out, resentment would form on both sides, and—

  “Jax, we’ve got a problem out here.”