Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (40 page)

The door slammed behind him. I waited a few seconds, ready to go in after him, but Blackjack reached out and stopped me with a tight squeeze to my forearm.

“Easy, boy. You've been on edge since the night we brought those strays in. Don't let her get to you unless you really mean to make an old lady out of her.” He held my gaze, looking more wizardly than ever with his hair flapping on his cut. “Your choice. If you're not gonna take this thing all the way, then drop the fucking show and have some fun tomorrow. Fuck. Drink. Be merry. Life's shorter than we know.”

What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? It was like he'd given a voice to the whirlwind inside me, beating everything I thought I knew before Missy to tatters. Blackjack tightened his grip – hard enough to pinch my muscles – and then let go all at once.

Rabid followed me inside and we hit the bar together. Suzy the bartender was standing there, a cigarette in her mouth and a blank expression on her face as she watched the TV. The woman was in her late forties, an old lady transplant from Sacramento, property of a dude named Toss. She'd taken on the bartender roll out of boredom, with nothing better to do since Fang ordered everybody and their families north.

Rabid asked for his usual and got a tall glass of whiskey mixed with ginger ale. I never figured out how many shots were in that fucker, but he definitely wouldn't be riding anytime soon.

“What about you?” Suzy asked, her thin lips pulled in a smile.

I shook my head. “Gotta leave with my girl soon. We got family business to take care of with her little sis.”

Rabid laughed and hit the counter. “You gotta be shitting me. You, Brass, a family man? Since fucking when?”

“Since I decided I didn't want to end up in the shed with the Mauler if these girls fucked us over. I gotta keep 'em happy and outta trouble too.”

“Come on, man. One fucking beer. Shit, when you showed up here, you went on runs with something a lot more potent than Jack flowing in your veins.”

Ignoring the grim reminder, I looked at Suzy and ordered a tall one, then took my seat next to Rabid. Fucker was the only brother in this place except Blackjack who'd get away with talking about my sins without a fist to the face.

“Those days are behind me, and you know it. I'm staying clean for the club. This fucking shit with the cartel's getting serious. We slack off drunk too many nights with our hands on our dicks, we'll all wake up one day burned to a crisp, or else having our heads chopped off.”

Rabid laughed, making a goofy ass line across his neck with one finger. Just my luck that I related to this club's lame fucking joker best, while all the more serious brothers were so dark and mercenary they made me want to rip their heads off and do the world a favor.

“It's almost like you care,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he sipped his drink. “What's going on, Brass? You trying to undo the shit with your own family looking after these chicks?”

My hand balled in a fist. Okay, I definitely would've laid his ass out if he were anyone but Rabid. I settled for twisting the seat and stabbing my finger into his chest, holding it there while I told him exactly what the fuck was going on.

“I don't owe anybody shit for what happened. The guys I thought were my brothers turned on me. Killed my Ma and almost murdered Shelly too...I blame that shit on the smack. I was too fucked up to know any better 'til it was almost too late.” It felt like smoke was hissing through my teeth. “I'll never make that mistake again. Long as I stay clean, I stay clear headed. I'm not trying to undo fuck ups and oversights that happened in Montana. I'm trying my damnedest to make sure they don't go down here, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop sticking your dick where it doesn't belong. Save that shit for the redhead you've been railing all week.”

Until the last part, he'd been flexed, ready to give me a rough shove if I didn't lay off his ass. Then, he just smiled. Probably thinking about the fire crotch burning up his cock. Typical Rabid.

“Whatever, dude. Blackjack's right. I hope you're not so stuck on bad memories you can't loosen up and have some fun tomorrow. I know I'm gonna do it with Red. All fucking night.”

I snorted, pausing to drain half my beer. “Red, huh? Is that really her name?”

“I call 'em like I see 'em. This baby girl was so new I got to her first and gave her something simple. Classy. Sounds a lot better than Vacuum Lips or Twinkie or some shit, right?”

Fuck if that didn't make me smile for a second. I wasn't even offended he'd insulted my old whore. Of course, it also made me think about Missy's lips wrapped around my cock, pretty and perfect, lined up with my lust where they were always mean to be.

Twinkie didn't have shit on her tits, her eyes, her awesome ass.

And Red didn't have a single shade of pink on my girl either. On the other hand, Rabid didn't have his slut turning his balls ocean blue every goddamned day with her prancing around him, lashing him with a tongue he wanted to hold down and bite, never putting out.

No, that was all down to my shit luck. My stupidity. Didn't doubt that I was the only biker in the world who'd been dumb enough to take an old lady he hadn't even fucked.

“Brass? I'm all done.”

I heard her voice just as I was draining my beer. Rabid spun with me, tilting his head, wearing amusement on his face as he gawked like a fool.

“Then let's go home. My business here is done today.” I threw my leather coat on over my cut and walked her out.

“Don't forget the party, brother!” Rabid yelled after me. “Gonna take a whole lotta cleaning to sweep that dirty night under the rug.”

If I'd have turned around, I was a hundred percent sure I would've seen his shitty grin again. It was easy to be all smiles when all you had to do between getting your dick sucked and fucked was watching out for a cartel hit.

She didn't say much the second evening either. We got to the apartment just as the young redhead with glasses was finishing up with Jackie at the computer. She'd put my money to good use hiring this chick named Christa to tutor the kid.

I eyeballed the woman.
This
hipster girl was who she'd picked? Teachers were supposed to be older and wiser, but fuck if I was gonna make a fuss over it.

Missy walked her into the kitchen and they settled on their fees before the chick with the sexy librarian look left. I fucking hated myself for thinking anything at all. She was really Rabid's type more than mine, but my balls were so blue by now it was no fucking joke.

Sure, I snuck peeks at other chicks, especially when the club sluts batted their eyes at me in the clubhouse halls. But ever since Missy landed in my lap, an ice sculpture with a  hot chick's body, I was losing my mind. Losing my manhood too.

I could look, but there was no fucking way my cock would be satisfied with anything less than her.

Rabid's Red and the equally fire haired teacher got my heart going, but they were tepid hags compared to the brunette slaving away under my watch. Night time was the worst. Thinking about how the hell I was gonna pass out on the sofa without marching to her room and shoving my dick between Missy's legs already hurt.

When she finally came outta the kitchen, carrying chips and salad for herself, I sank down in the chair next to her. Little sis gave us some badly needed privacy by rushing off to her room. Hoped like fuck the homework or reading or whatever the hell the teach handed out would keep her occupied for a little while.

“You're gonna need to pay that tutor extra to stay late or get Jackie a babysitter tomorrow.”

She looked up, crunching on a chip, cold and annoyed with me at once. God damn. How the hell did she stay on edge all the time without going off like dynamite?

“Why's that? Something to do with this lipstick crap I've been hearing about?”

Fuck. Just my luck she would've heard whores and brothers talking about it. Those fucking parties were usually the biggest every quarter. Before shit got bad with the cartel, brothers came north voluntarily, eager to get their dicks sucked, ringed with every shade of lipstick the sluts wore before fucking them to the wall.

It was pure debauchery. The last one was when I started fucking Twinkie, fisting her blonde locks as she got my load down her throat. Bitch added her deep ruby stamp to the lighter shit left by the two girls before her.

My cock jerked just thinking about it. And then it jerked a whole lot harder when I imagined Missy dolled up like a whore, her tongue all over my dick. Having her sweet lips full of me would sure go a long way to giving her some damned humility.

“Well?” she asked again, working through a few more bites.

“Yeah. I want you there to clean like usual. Trust me, you'll wanna do it too. Less work the next day. This bash'll undo some of your hard work after a buncha brothers and their girls crash through the clubhouse like a drunken fucking whirlwind.”

She shrugged. “Isn't that every day? I hear them through the walls...”

I shook my head. “You haven't seen shit. Tomorrow's gonna be worse because we're all on edge. Best way for most guys to blow off some steam is getting their dicks wet.”

“Nice. I'm glad us old ladies have such an important place in your world.” She looked disgusted.

I was starting to get pissed. No matter how many times I kept my cool and took her bites as they came, she always managed to get underneath my skin.

“It's the way things are. I don't make the rules in the Grizzlies MC. I just follow them, same as all our traditions.” I tried not to growl. “Look, you've got the wrong idea if you think old ladies are running around screwing every brother in sight. That's the sluts' job.”

“Whatever. I'm just glad you're not pimping me out. I doubt the rest of your buddies would be so kind.”

My eyes fixed on her harder, wondering if that was a compliment. One thing was certain: no matter what the fuck I did, she loathed every minute with me and the club. And that made me want to strangle my dick every time it pulsed for her, as if this was just another tease I could claim by throwing her on my bike and carrying her to my room.

If this was playing hard to get, then it was the most fucked up chase I'd ever seen in my life.

“It won't be bad. All you gotta do tomorrow is collect trash and serve drinks. Suzy'll mix the shit at the bar, so you don't have to worry about that end of it. I'll be there the whole time. Shit, you can have a few drinks yourself and drive us both home when it wears off. I'll take my truck instead of the Harley.”

“Joy!” The wicked smile beaming on her face almost had me fooled. Then it melted into the same lifeless frown dragging on her face since I'd pulled her into my life.

“You don't have to love this, babe,” I said. “But you do have to get through it. These little outings are the
only
way you're ever gonna convince Blackjack and the others to let you go. They gotta know you're one of us, trustworthy and absolutely –“

I stopped just short of saying it. Calling her
mine
when she damned well wasn't was the dumbest fucking thing I could've pushed through my lips.

Hell, it wasn't even a good act. It never was. Blackjack saw right through it. He proved as much when he gave me shit about it this morning, and I saw the warning written between the lines.

If I couldn't pull her further into my orbit, and at least make her
act
like a good old lady, then all bets were off. They threatened to collapse at any time with the Mexicans lighting fires in our backyard.

I was about to remind her what the fuck we were doing in this crazy arrangement before she held up her palm.

“Don't say it,” Missy snapped. “I've heard it all before, and I'm going to follow through. I promised you that much. Even if I hate it – and I will, Brass, every fucking second – I'll get through it. I'll do anything to make sure Jackie and I get out of this alive.”

I stood, looking her over, trying to hide the lust in my eyes with pure dark menace. Showing mercy hadn't done shit for that bad attitude. Maybe a little intimidation would.

Just standing over her wasn't gonna cut it. My hands reached out before I knew what I was doing. I reached down and pulled her up, grabbing her, slamming her to my chest.

Fuck, those full tits felt so good pressed against me. One inch closer and she would've felt the hard-on ballooning in my jeans, raging for her, making my heart beat me deaf, dumb, and blind. My dick hummed with enough fury for my heart and soul.

“Make sure you do,” I said in the most glacial killer tone I had. “We're all depending on you playing your part. Any fuck up, and we're dead.”

I didn't say another word. Neither did she. I let go and took off. Missy didn't yell after me as I stepped out and slammed the door behind me, heading for another long ride through Redding to clear my head.

Bitter satisfaction flowed through me when I realized I'd gotten the last word.

We went in later that day, after she'd made sure the tutor was lined up 'til midnight. The bash started about five, a couple dozen tanked up brothers and just as many women stuffed into the clubhouse.

Everybody was there from our crew, Sacramento, and even a few visitors from Nomads running up and down the west coast. The Prez was conspicuously absent, but it only seemed to liven things up. Having Fang there eyeballing us wasn't anybody's idea of fun.

No brother needed to dig deep to see the darkness ticking away in his eyes, the single-minded obsession with moving us around on the chess board 'til the club or the cartel broke.

Rabid disappeared early in the evening with Red and another girl, some dark haired slut I'd never seen before. I was left alone with a bottle of Jack and molten lava hitting my dick in waves. Girls halfway undressed passed by me with brothers holding their hands.

Some were on the floor, hands between their legs, grunting as they teased their clits and warmed up for the men. Others were still fully unclothed, their ruby red and royal purple lips wrapped around every dick they could find, sucking brother's off in the hallways and underneath the tables. But it wasn't that shit turning me to steel.