Authors: Alix Labelle
MC ROMANCE: Wanted by the Alpha Biker (Motorcycle Club Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (MC Romantic Suspense Contemporary New Adult Short Stories)
© Copyright 2016 by Alix Labelle - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
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Paranormal & Shifter Romance Collection
Addicted to the Vampire Billionaire
Taken and Mated by the Alpha Bear Soldier:
Alpha Cowboy Versus Bad Boy Biker
Saved and Taken by the Alpha US Marine:
Protected and Loved by the NAVY SEAL:
Billionaire Seduction: Obsession
Billionaire Seduction: Temptation
Billionaire Seduction: Possession
Wanted by the Alpha Biker
“I’ve lost my mind. I’m completely nuts.” I stared at myself in my rearview mirror and pulled at my face until my eyelids stretched awkwardly.
My normally clean face was decorated with thick black eyeliner and bright red lipstick. My long blond hair was teased into a big helmet. I’d traded in my normal T-shirt and jeans for a pair of ripped jean shorts that barely covered my ass and a halter top that sparkled more than the Fourth of July. I was dressed up like a tart.
“God. What am I doing?”
A sharp knock on my window shocked me, and a small yelp left my mouth. I looked over and watched as a huge man in all leather laughed before walking on. I wanted to roll my window down and chew him out for being a jerk, but I was undercover. I couldn’t snap at people like I usually would.
Finally out of my own little world, I looked around and shook my hands out, trying to get rid of the nerves that were plaguing me. I had to get out of the car. People were starting to notice me, and the point of my operation was to blend in. I glanced in the mirror once more and shook my head. I was an idiot.
I climbed out of my rental car and stretched to work out the stiffness in my bad knee. I was only twenty-six and I already felt like an old woman at times. One wrong dance move at the club on my twenty-first birthday and I was stuck in physical therapy for a year. Apparently dancing wasn’t my forte. I was hoping I was better at going undercover to write a great story.
I reached into my halter top and pulled my breasts up even higher. I had to look the part of motorcycle club groupie if I wanted the men to think I was one.
The bar in front of me was small but always packed with members of a local biker club. It was known around town for its rowdy fights. The building itself was an unassuming log cabin with a singular sign above the door that claimed it had cold brews. Loud music seemed to leak from the seams of the place as I walked closer. It was old rock and roll, and it was
loud
.
Right as I was reaching for the door, a couple spilled out, laughing and swaying to the music. I stepped to the side to avoid being smashed. The man was short and stout, with a beard that hung down to his belly. His eyes had more wrinkles around them than a Shar Pei. The woman had to be close to my age with an almost identical top. We must’ve caught the same sale.
“You’re going to love the clubhouse. It’s real nice.” He was leering at her, his eyes never traveling farther north than her chest.
She giggled and tossed her hair over her shoulder, exposing more of her larger-than-life breasts. “I can’t wait. Will there be a lot of other guys there, too?”
Oh, ick
, I thought with a sour look on my face. I turned away from them and was about to rush into the bar when a large group poured out. The group of members and women marched past me, all headed toward the parking lot.
“You girls can ride in Hooker’s van. We’ll see ya’ll at the clubhouse.”
I saw an opportunity and jumped on it. If I could avoid going into the bar where I’d heard many gang bangs happened, I would die a happy woman. I stepped into the group of women that all looked like me and smiled at the woman next to me.
“I can’t believe we get to go party with the Unified Riders. My girlfriend, Sarah, went to a party with them once and she couldn’t walk for a week. Apparently all the men have, like, huge—”
“Egos? Yeah, I heard that, too.” I cut her off and stared straight ahead. Jesus. I should’ve befriended a less talkative woman.
We all climbed into the back of an old van, and the doors slammed closed behind us. I looked around at the group of us and frowned. It was like a glittered prison van carting us off to a biker cave. All the other women sat around, quietly adjusting their bras and reapplying their lipstick. My assumption that they were all friends was thrown out immediately when the sizing-up started. They all watched each other with one eye while the other eye made sure their hair was still big.
The silence was stifling, and I couldn’t figure out why. The girl sitting next to me was even suddenly mute.
“What’s everyone’s deal?”
She moved her eyes over to me and paused in reapplying her cherry-red lip gloss. “A lot of these girls go every weekend. Everyone wants to be an old lady, but there’s only so many members.”
I made a face. “I didn’t realize how stiff the competition was.”
She glanced up at my hair and shrugged. “In some cases, it’s not. That’s the only reason I’m talking to you. First of all, chances are a guy who likes you wouldn’t have wanted me anyway. You’re all tall and blond. I’m short and red-headed. Plus, you can’t tease your hair for shit. And your makeup looks like a four year old did it.”
So much for making a friend. I leaned back against the metal wall of the van and pursed my lips at her. I ran my eyes over her hair and makeup and shrugged. I didn’t see how it was so much better than mine.
“No offense.”
I reached up and touched my hair. “I’m not offended. I meant to make it look like this. It’s a new thing.”
She pinched her face in and nodded like she was agreeing with a mental patient. “Sure it is.”
The rest of the ride was made in silence. I’d learned my lesson about that. Don’t talk on the van ride and your feelings won’t be squished under some groupie’s size-eight platform heel. I was tempted to pull out my compact mirror and try to fix my hair and makeup, but I knew deep down that I wasn’t great at either. It wasn’t going to get any better.
The ride took too long for anyone’s comfort it seemed, because as soon as we stopped moving they all cheered and stood up in the confined space. I joined the ranks and nearly laughed at the way we were all stooped over like broken Barbie dolls.
The doors opened and we shot out of there. The other girls seemed desperate to get inside the clubhouse to meet their men. I stood at the back of the group and looked around. We were in the middle of the woods, and in front of us was another large building that resembled a log cabin.
More loud rock music filled the night air, and the smell of beer seemed to be thick there. I took in as much as I could and made notes on how to describe the place in my story. The words charming and romantic didn’t come to mind.
I’d done research and seen pictures of other clubhouses. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t been expecting. If anything it was a little less rough-looking than other places I’d seen. I was feeling a little more comfortable until we were ushered inside. I hadn’t seen pictures of the insides of those clubhouses.
My eyes seemed to try to go everywhere at once. The cement floor was sticky under my feet, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it was sticky with. The walls were covered in wanted posters, like it was a big joke that their members were famous for all the wrong reasons. There was a small bar across the room being manned by a topless woman who had a tattoo of a motorcycle across her stomach. In between the bar and where I was standing, just inside the big metal door, was a series of similar looking men, all wearing leather vests.
There were different lengths of beards, but I didn’t see a bare face in the bunch. Gone were the clean-cut men I knew and dated. Couches and chairs filled the large room and were occupied by different members and their girls of the hour.
I felt a sense of panic when the group I’d come in with dispersed quickly. A big chunk of them moved together in one direction like a large pack of lions. I almost felt sorry for the member they were closing in on.
Suddenly I was alone with my back practically pressing against the front door. If I didn’t move soon I was going to stand out. I sucked in a large breath and coughed when smoke filled my lungs. I wasn’t cut out for the clubhouse. It was more than clear to me, but if I wanted to stop writing fluff pieces and get away from my awful nickname, I’d have to stay and write the stupid article.
I was going to expose the biker club for what it was, a breeding ground for disrespect of women. After my hard-hitting article, no one would ever call me Fluffy again.
I set my jaw and put my foot forward to march into the place when a large hand closed around my upper arm. I snapped my head up and then farther up to take in the man standing in front of me.
He was huge, towering over my tall frame with ease. A glance behind him told me that he was the man all the women had been prowling toward. I didn’t blame them after seeing him.
His eyes were pale blue with thick eyelashes surrounding them. A thick, black beard covered his lower face, only broken up by his plump, pink lips. They stood out on his otherwise tough face. He had long black hair that was pulled back in a messy bun and dark eyebrows that were raised in a silent question.
I took a deep breath, and instead of smoke I got the scent of leather. I met his gaze and swallowed. His entire presence screamed alpha male, and I wasn’t prepared to deal with it. I tried to slip out of his grip, but he wasn’t having it.
“What’s your name?”
“Fluffy.” As soon as I said it I felt my cheeks turn red. “I mean Lizzy. My name is Lizzy. Now, if you’ll just let me go…”
His eyes brightened. “Fluffy?”
I bit my lip and shook my head. “I said Lizzy.”
He slid his big hand down to my wrist and tugged me into his chest. “Come with me. I’ve got something to discuss with you.”
I pulled myself away from him and pushed my hair out of my face. “Jeez. All you had to do was ask.”
He kept his grip on my arm and pulled me after him into a room off the main area. There was a long table surrounded by chairs in the middle of the smaller room. The image on the back of his leather vest hung over the back wall of the room.
“Is this church?” I’d read about how they called their meeting room church. As far as I knew, women weren’t allowed in church.
“See, that’s what’s strange about you. You know about church and you knew enough to end up in my club, but you look about as fresh as a baby in spring. Am I really supposed to believe you’re one of the normal groupies that Mack brings back from the bar?”
His
club? “
Your
club?”
He held out his hand. “Name’s Stone. I’m the president of this club. Another anomaly. All those girls out there know who’s who. They know who they want to fuck tonight before they even doll themselves up the way the boys like them. You don’t have a clue who anyone is. You were just standing by the door like a scared little kitty cat.”
I frowned. “I’m not a scared little kitty cat. And so what if I don’t know you? It’s my first time at this club. I’m usually down in New Orleans.”
Stone laughed. “Honey, I can assure you that you are not from New Orleans. I know the president down there. He wouldn’t let a little doll like you slip away.”
“Damn it. Do you have to argue with everything I say?”
“Another reason I know you aren’t used to hanging around with my type. Those girls out there would never in a million years talk to me that way.”
My anger got the best of me, and I threw my hands in the air. “Well, they’re idiots. They’re just here trying to become your old lady.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Hell yes. You’re so argumentative!”
He inched closer to me. “Why are you here?”
I inched away from him. “I just wanted to come with the other girls. I’m totally into that kind of thing—hanging out with club guys and drinking and stuff.”
“Oh, you like drinking and stuff? Let’s go get you something to drink, then.” He pulled me after him to the tiny bar in the corner. It was really just a bookshelf with a few bottles of whiskey on top of it. He twisted off the top of a bottle with his teeth and then took a deep pull from it before thrusting it at my chest.
I took the bottle and frowned at him before putting it to my lips and tipping it back. Burning whiskey trailed down my throat and into my chest. Somewhere along the way my body seemed to reject it, and my throat closed up. I ended up coughing and choking with whiskey dribbling down my chin.
Stone chuckled, but his eyes stayed alert as he watched the spilled whiskey trail into my cleavage. “It’s a real shame to waste whiskey.”
Before I knew what he was doing, he buried his face in my cleavage and licked the whiskey up. I screamed and shoved him away, because it was shocking, to say the least. Instead of reacting in the apologetic way I expected, he grabbed me and pulled me into his body so he could kiss me.
Stone’s mouth was warm on my own. I fought him for all of two seconds before I realized what a good kisser he was. Instantly I became aware of an uncomfortable dampness in my panties. The man was a force to be reckoned with.
I gripped the front of his vest and held on for dear life as he picked me up and sat me down on the shelf. Whiskey bottles fell off and glasses shattered when they hit the ground. The wall was hard against my shoulder blades, but it was hard to focus on that when Stone slipped his tongue into my mouth. He tasted like whiskey and cinnamon.
He was between my legs, and somehow I’d locked my ankles behind his hips. His hands stayed locked in my hair, moving me however he wanted me to deepen the kiss. I’d never been manhandled like he was doing to me, but I’d also never been kissed so well, either.