RAGE: President & First Lady Of The Death Dealers MC (8 page)

I stare down at my nephew as he sleeps in his crib. The
moment my sister told me she was back from her trip, I had to come and see
them. I love this kid like he’s mine, been taking care of him since he was
born. I was the first one to hold him when he exited the womb. His father,
Eddie, was a friend and brother who was killed in a deal that went south. I
blame myself every day for it. Even if Mikey wasn’t my nephew, I would still
make sure he didn’t want for anything. This is why I don’t want kids or an old
lady. With the life I lead, I don’t want any woman of mine left alone, or
raising a child without his father. My sister, Ellen, walks up behind me and
places a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Thinking of having one of your own, big brother?”

“Not likely, shorty.”

Ellen is the spitting image of my mother. She has the same
nose, lips, and brown hair. We both got her blue eyes, but everything else I
got from my dad. She even has Mom’s mannerisms, which is uncanny because she
was just a baby when Mom died.

“I’m not short. I’m fun-sized.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen that shirt.”

“Come on. Let’s go downstairs.”

She leads me to the kitchen and I sit around the table while
she unpacks groceries. Eddie bought this house the moment he proposed to Ellen
and she accepted. Too bad he didn’t get to live in it.

“Want a beer?”

“Sure.”

She opens a bottle and hands it to me then returns to her unpacking.

“You seen Chopper yet?” I ask.

“No, I haven’t seen
Dad
yet. He’s coming over
tomorrow.”

“Cool.”

“So….”

I know that tone. She’s about to stick her nose in my
business. I take a deep breath and wait for it.

“Who’s the lucky woman who’s been warming your bed at
nights?”

“No one’s ever been that lucky, little sis.”

“Oh, please! I know you haven’t been celibate.”

“Didn’t say I wasn’t fucking. Just don’t keep ’em around
long enough to do any warming.”

“You’re so crude. You’re telling me not one woman has slept
in your bed?”

“Don’t need a woman for sleeping.”

“You’re such a whore.”

“I know, but I’m so good at it,” I reply with a smirk.

“Just wait. When the right one comes along, you’re going to
fall flat on your ass and the best part is, you won’t even see it coming.”

“Okay, that’s my cue to leave.” I finish my beer, set the
bottle on the counter, and kiss her cheek. “You can keep that love shit to
yourself. I’m out.”

I flip the hood on my jacket over my head as I walk out.

“Just wait, Gage Hunter. You’ll see.”

Yeah, right. The day I fall in love is the day flying pigs
make snowmen in Hell. I open the car door and, against my better judgment, look
up the street. Ellen is just a few houses away from Raven. A small part of me
hopes to see her, but I see him instead, the boyfriend. He throws a look over
his shoulder and then jogs off. That’s it. I slam the door and march off toward
her house. It’s time to settle this once and for all.

***Raven***

I’m barely through my bedroom door when I hear the knocking.
I turn around, shaking my head in disbelief. What more can I say to appease
him? I yank the door open without even looking through the peephole.

“Chris, I told you—”

No, not Chris. I lift my gaze from a rapidly rising and
falling chest to an angry stare.
What the hell is he doing here?

“We need to talk.”

Oh, great. Another man who needs to talk.

“We have nothing to talk about.” I try to close the door but
he stops it, steps in, and closes it behind him. “You can’t be here.”

“Why? Are you scared?”

“Not of you. I don’t need people seeing you here.”
And I
don’t need this getting back to Lonnie.

“It won’t take long.”

I turn my back to him so he won’t see my amusement, but I
can’t stop the giggle that escapes me. Lord, I have a dirty mind. I face him
once more, desperately trying not to smile but failing horribly.

“I hope that’s not what you tell your dates.”

His expression softens as he smiles and shakes his head.

“I don’t date. And in fact, I
could
say that. I
always have them coming in no time at all.”

“Really, now?”

“Really. You can’t disagree, not after last night.”

I feel my blush spread across my whole body and all of a
sudden, I’m aware of his proximity. And how hot he is. And how good he smells.
And that we’re alone in a house with beds, couches, chairs, and all types of
flat surfaces. Even a wall would do.

“You should go.”

He takes my hand, pulling me into the living room and down
on the couch next to him. I shuffle away from him, putting space between us.

“Lonnie can’t come home and find you here.”

“Don’t worry about Lonnie. She’s halfway to Florida right
now with some of the guys.”

“Florida?”

“Yeah. Some business with our Jacksonville charter.”

“Oh.”

Florida. I miss home so much. I miss Daddy, Toni, my
peaceful life. What I wouldn’t do to get it back.

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s where I’m from. Just missing home.”

“Jacksonville?”

“No. Miami.”

“Why’d you move here?”

The tears begin to gather in my eyes and I desperately try
to blink them back. He moves closer and curls his arm around my shoulder. All I
want to do is bury my face in his neck and cry my eyes out.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

His voice is low and soothing and has me turning toward him
as the tears slide down my cheeks.

“I lived with my dad, but he died four months ago.”

“I’m sorry, baby doll. Come here.”

He pulls me into his arms, and I lay my head on his chest as
he settles into the couch. I can’t control myself. All my feelings just push to
the surface and have no other outlet but my tears. Losing Daddy, living with
Lonnie. He’s probably rolling in his grave at the way she treats me.

“I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I lost my mom
before you were even born and I still miss her.”

“Does it get easier?”

“No, but you learn to deal.”

I curl my fingers in his jacket and sink into his embrace.
He gives me exactly what I need—to be held. I need to feel close to someone
else, to feel connected. I’m alone in this world, and right now I feel so
removed from it, floating away. I need something, someone solid to tether me.

“It’s okay. Let it all out.”

Who would have thought that someone would be Gage Hunter?
This man holding me in his arms, soothing me… he makes me want things I
shouldn’t. He makes me want to feel things I shouldn’t, want to do things I
shouldn’t…he just makes me
want
. I cry until I have no more tears. I lie
on his chest, sniffling until I feel like I don’t even remember why I was
crying. He makes me forget. And right now, whatever cologne he’s wearing is
doing strange but incredibly good things to me.

“You smell good.”

“Thank you. So do you, like apple pie.”

I giggle softly as I sit up, wiping my cheeks. “Yeah, I need
a shower.”

“Never said I didn’t like it,” he says, brushing at my cheek
with his thumb.

I know I should pull away but I don’t. The consequences are
far from my mind as I gaze into his penetrating, blue eyes.

“Look, the clubhouse is empty. Why don’t I take you there?
We could play some pool or table tennis, whatever you want. Cheer you up a
bit.”

“Thanks, but I can’t.”

“Come on. I don’t bite… much.”

He winks and gives me that crooked smile and I just want to
give in. But I can’t.

“No one will see you. Half the guys are working and the
others are in Florida. It’ll be just you and me.”

I’m probably more afraid of that than anything else. I don’t
trust myself around him.

“I’ll have you back at a decent time. I promise.”

“Gage—”

“We’re going.”

Fuck. There he goes with that commanding tone again. Why
does it always eradicate any kind of will power I have? It’s like I become one
of his minions just ready to do his bidding.

“You’re sure no one’s there?”

His smile widens because he knows he’s won.

“Positive. I’ll wait for you here.”

“Okay.”

I leave him on the couch and take myself to the bathroom.
While in the shower, I start to think about what I’m doing. What if someone
sees us? What if Lonnie finds out? I can hold my own in a fair fight, but she tends
to retaliate when I’m not expecting it. We sleep in the same house, for God’s
sake. I must be some kind of masochist. Why won’t he stay away from me? Why do
I feel so drawn to him? I become insanely aware that I’m completely naked and
there’s a sex god sitting just a few feet away. Every muscle in my lower region
tightens and I groan in frustration. I hurriedly wash the soap from my skin and
wrap a towel around my body. I grab a smaller one, drying my hair as I walk to
my room.

I push the door and there he is, sitting on my bed. The
small towel falls from my fingers. All I want to do is push him back on that
bed and climb on top of him. He prowls toward me, his eyes wandering over my
body hungrily, so I pull the towel tighter around me. He bends over, picks up
the one on the floor, and slowly rises. I stare at his chest, accepting the
towel with trembling fingers. He trails his index finger down my cheek and
under my chin, lifting my face toward his. My heart begins to thump in my chest
and my breathing gets ragged.

“Beautiful bird.”

He moves to stand behind me and slides my hair to the side,
baring my neck. My body starts to shake like a leaf in a tornado.

“I just wanted to see where it all happened.” He leans in,
whispering in my ear, “I’ve imagined it a million times. You, kneeling on your
bed, making yourself come. Soon, Raven. Soon it will be my hands on your body.
I’m going to fuck you so good, you won’t remember your own name.”

¡Por Dios!
I squeeze my thighs together to stop the
pulsing between my legs. I know the wetness I feel down there is
not
from my shower. He isn’t even touching me. And then he does, gently, on my arm
where the bruise is.

“I’m going to find out about this. It’s better if you tell
me.”

“I….”

“No one should put their hands on you… unless it’s for
pleasure.”

His lips hover above my shoulder, his warm breath caressing
my skin. Don’t ask me how anything warm induces a shiver, but it does—through
my entire body. He gives me a featherlight kiss and I bite my lip to stifle a
moan.

“Hurry, little bird. I’ll be waiting.”

Little bird. What is it with this man and nicknames?
The second he walks off, I lock the door behind him. This is insane. I’m
insane. That’s it. I’ve totally lost it. I move around like a robot, berating
myself for what I’m about to do, but still all the way excited. As I reach for
a pair of black skinny jeans, I wonder if it was subconscious or deliberate
that I chose a matching set of lace bra and panties. Or that I applied lotion
on every conceivable part of my body, and sprayed perfume in places I normally
don’t.

Is my white and black Hello Kitty crop top too revealing? It
just barely covers my breasts… and I
am
wearing it with low-rider jeans.
It’s just a bare stomach, no big deal.  I slip on white sandals and sit before
my mirror, contemplating what to do with my hair. I quickly blow-dry it and
leave it down. I forego makeup and instead put some moisturizer on. When I’m
finally done, I take a deep breath and head to the living room.

Here goes nothing.

He turns his head toward me as I approach, and then does a
double-take. His eyes widen and travel down the length of my body slowly.

“Fuck. Me.”

I giggle as I stand before him. It’s good to know that I can
affect him, too. “No, thank you.”

“No, thank you?”

He rises from the couch and steps forward until my breasts
are touching his chest. And the tables have turned. Every time this man comes
near me, it’s like I become an asthmatic.

“A more appropriate response would be ‘not yet’.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should step back,
but my body only wants to go in one direction—forward. I peek up at him and he
leans in. His lips are so close to mine, I can almost taste them. Just when I
think he’s going to kiss me, he moves to the side and places a soft kiss on my
cheek. Disappointed doesn’t even begin to describe what I feel.

“Let’s go.”

Taking my hand, he leads me to the front door. He reaches
for the doorknob and turns back to me with a frown.

“What?”

“Wear this. It’ll be better for my sanity, and your safety.”

He removes his hoodie and places it around my shoulders. I
shove my hands into the sleeves, zip it up, and flip the hood. Good for me,
too. Maybe no one will recognize me. I take a deep breath and his scent fills
my nostrils. It’s all over the jacket. It surrounds me, closing me in like a
cocoon. I wish I could bottle it and keep it under my pillow; that way, I could
smell him whenever I wanted to.

“You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I just… really like your cologne.”

“Thanks.”

I lock the door behind us and he takes my hand as we walk
down the driveway. His hand is big and warm, and I can’t help the fact that I
like the way mine feels in his. I lace my fingers through his and he gives them
a little squeeze.

“Where’s your bike?”

“No bike tonight. My car is parked down the street.”

I look ahead and the only car I see is a black Mustang GT
with red trim. “That’s yours? The Mustang?”

“Yeah.”

“That is one sexy car.” 

“You think so? Watch this.”

The car starts up and Avenged Sevenfold’s “Hail to the King”
breaks the silence of the night.

“I love A7X,” I tell him.

“Yeah? Me, too.”

“M. Shadows is hot.”

“Is that the only reason you like them?” he asks with a
chuckle.

“No. Their music’s great.”

“Ever been to one of their concerts?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe I’ll take you sometime.”

Yeah, not happening.
I get a better view of the car
now that the headlights are on and so are the red neon underbody lights. I
release his hand and approach the vehicle, running my fingers across the custom
paint job as I walk around it. In fact, everything about it is custom—black on
black with red trim, even the rims. On the hood, there’s a decal of the Grim
Reaper with red eyes, scythe raised, ready to strike.

“You like it?”

“I love it.”

He opens the passenger door—suicide-style—and I take in the
interior. The black and red theme continues with the leather seats and red
lighting. I slide inside and he closes the door. As I buckle my seatbelt, I
absorb it all. His gear shift knob looks like five, twelve gauge bullets have
been hammered into it. Gage, twelve gauge… I get it. The same reaper from the
hood sits on the steering wheel and the headrests. I watch him as he climbs in
next to me. Yes, this car fits him to a “T.” He shifts into gear and we power
forward. Seems there were engine modifications, too.

“You must have spent a fortune on the customization.”

“Just the parts. My boys did all the work.”

“Your boys?”

“Chopper’s Custom Cars. I own it.”

“Oh. Who’s Chopper?”

“My dad. I think you met him at the barbecue. He was the one
on the grill.”

“That’s your dad? He was sweet.”

“Sweet? Ain’t never heard anyone describe Chopper as
‘sweet’.”

“Well, he was.”

“Kissin’ on my Tattoos” alerts me of a text message and I
pull my phone from my back pocket. It’s Toni.

Toni: Thought you wanted to talk?

Raven: Can’t right now. Call you tomorrow.

Toni: Is it about your hottie bf?

Raven: Yes and no.

“Put away the phone, Raven,” Gage growls.

I put it on vibrate and stick it into the jacket pocket. I
know exactly what he’s thinking. “It’s not Chris.”

“I don’t care who it is. No interruptions. When you’re with
me, no one else exists. Got it?”

“Whatever, Mr. Bossy.”

No one else exists.
Who does he think he is?
He pulls
over in front of the local bakery, Sweet Treats, and shifts into park.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He returns a few minutes later with a plastic bag and hands
it to me. I peer inside and see the strawberry cheese pastries I adore.

“How did you know I like these?” I ask, completely
surprised.

“You were having them yesterday. I made you spill them.
Figured I owe you.”

“Thank you.” I’m even more surprised he noticed. I open the
container and dig in. A few pastries later, it hits me that I haven’t offered
him any. “Would you like some?”

He gives me the crooked smile.

“Only if you feed me.”

“Fat chance.”

“Feed me.”

I have one at his lips before I even know what’s happening.
He bites into it and I wait for him to swallow before I offer the other half.
He takes it and leans forward, sucking the sugar from my index finger. I
swallow hard as that now familiar tingle runs through my body.

“Mmm… they’re good.”

He jams on the brakes and I’m hurtled forward, then pulled
back by the seatbelt.

“Jesus! What is it?”

“Fuck.”

I follow his gaze and see six men on motorcycles parked in
front of the clubhouse. They don’t look like Dealers.

“Push the seat back and lie flat. Don’t get up until I tell
you to, understand?”

“What’s going on?”

“Just do it.”

Fear takes over and I recline the seat and lie back,
watching him. He continues slowly for about a minute, and then he comes to a
stop again.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

He gets out but leaves the car running. I listen carefully,
waiting for just a hint of the situation going south. I pull out my phone,
ready to dial nine-one-one if it does. What am I saying? It would all be over
by the time the cops got here.

“A little late for a house call, isn’t it, fellas?” Gage
says.

“If it isn’t the Reaper himself.”

Mexicans. There’s no confusing our accent.

“What can I do for you,
jefe
?”

“This is business, couldn’t wait until tomorrow,
ese
.”

“What’s going on?”

“One of our shipments was jacked today. We got another one
in two days, and we’re looking for some extra security.”

“I see.”

“I’ll give you fifty up front, another fifty when it gets to
its destination.”

“I can do that. I’ll need specifics… transport vehicles, how
many guys you got, routes.”

“Get with Pedro in the morning and he’ll give you everything
you need.”

“Cool.”

The bikes start up and as soon as they sound far enough
away, I sit up. I watch him in the car’s headlights, wondering what kind of
illegal exchange I just heard. He climbs in, presses a button on a remote, and
the gates of the clubhouse open.

“Security? I thought you customized cars.”

“I also own ‘12 Gauge Security’. I’m an entrepreneur, Miss
Alvarez. I have my hand in many ventures.”

“I see. What else?”

“I also have a nightclub, and the MC owns the auto parts
shop on Main Street, and a strip club outside of town.”

“The one where Lonnie works?”

“Yeah.”

He parks in a garage and we enter the building through what
looks like a private entrance. I don’t know what I expected, but I’m pleasantly
surprised by what I see. It looks like a laid-back sports bar. There’s a pool
table in the middle of the room, a pinball machine in one corner, and a video
poker machine in another. There are several flat-screen TVs hanging on the
walls and there’s a DJ booth next to the bar. The club logo is on the wall
behind the bar. A motorcycle muffler hangs beneath it with the inscription
“Death before disloyalty.” The rest of the wall is decorated with pictures of
members, and Harley paraphernalia.

“Wow.”

“Cool, huh?”

“It’s awesome.”

“You want something to drink?”

“Water, please.” I remove the hoodie and place it on the
couch, before walking around and taking a closer look. It’s also surprisingly
clean.

“So, what do you wanna do?”

You.
Ugh. I take a big sip of my water. Hopefully it
will quench this thirst.

“I don’t know. This was your idea.”

“Pool?”

“Okay.”

He hands me a cue and racks up the balls, while I chalk the
tip. “You break.”

“Sure thing, baby doll.”

He breaks, and balls go rolling in all directions. Two drop
into the corner pockets, a solid and a stripe.

“Solids.” He grins at me.

He moves around the table to where I’m standing, leaning
over to take a shot. That’s when I see the gun handle sticking out of the back
of his jeans.

“Is that a Glock seventeen?”

No doubt surprised, he scratches and turns toward me.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“My dad was a cop. He taught me a few things. Gen four?”

“Yeah.”

He removes it from his waist and hands it to me. “I love the
new grip.” I release the magazine, check the chamber and point it right between
his eyes. He grins, awe apparent in the blue orbs.

“Damn. You just might be the perfect woman.”

“Yeah? If you think so now, wait ’til you see me shoot.”

I pull the trigger and he grabs my wrist, pulling me against
him. I lean into him, shivering as he slides his hands around my waist.

“October can’t come quick enough.”

I step back with a coy smile, re-load the magazine, and hand
it to him. He tucks it back into his waist.

“What’s so special about October?”

“Just wait and see, baby doll.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“I don’t know. It just fits you, I guess.”

“And all this?” I wave my hand around to indicate the
current situation. “Why do you care? And don’t tell me that it’s because you
want to fuck me. I know you don’t have a problem getting laid.”

“True. There’s just something about you. I can’t quite put
my finger on it.”

Oh, you can put your finger and anything else you want on
it! Jesus. The game. Just think about the game.

“You scratched. My turn.”

I pick up the cue ball and position it for an easy shot. As
I’m about to take it, he presses against my ass. Holy fuck, he’s as hard as a
rock. I put the cue down, closing my eyes as I straighten. I turn around slowly
and he backs me up against the table.

“Or maybe Mark Twain was right. ‘There is a charm about the
forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable’.”

He’s quoting Twain? If he likes to read, then it’s my turn
to think he’s perfect! He tangles his fingers in my hair and tugs my head back
so I’m looking in his eyes.

“Stay away from me. Then you won’t be tempted.”

“‘I generally avoid temptation unless I can’t resist’. I
believe that’s Mae West.”

My breath catches and I search my brain for an appropriate
comeback.

“‘We gain the strength… of the temptation… we resist’, Ralph
Waldo Emerson.”

I can hardly get my words out because I can barely breathe.
This can’t be a normal reaction, can it? I’ve never been like this with anyone
else. What is it about him?

He smiles, leaning closer. My breasts are now crushed
against his chest, and for the life of me, I can’t calm my breathing.

“‘Yield to temptation, it may not pass your way again’,
Robert A. Heinlein.”

I moan as his lips graze my cheek. A prayer. That’s what I
need.

“‘Lord, deliver me from wanting to be delivered into
temptation’, Khaya Dlanga.”

I gasp as he grabs my hips and lifts me onto the pool table.
He steps forward, wedging himself between my legs and sliding an arm around my
waist. His free hand returns to my hair, and he pulls me forward.

“Oscar Wilde… ‘the only way to get rid of a temptation is to
yield to it. Resist it and your soul grows sick with longing…’”

His voice gets lower with each word and his lips get closer
to mine with each breath. I can’t move. My mind and body are being seduced.

“‘For the things it has forbidden itself, with desire for
what monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful’.”

I can’t take it anymore. I close the small gap between our
lips and press them together. His arm tightens around my waist and he pulls me
even closer. I wrap my legs around his hips and his hardness crashes into me.
My hands find their way into his hair, roaming his scalp as he devours my lips.
His kisses are like wildfire—hot and uncontrollable. When his tongue touches
mine, my entire body trembles. I moan, sucking on his bottom lip, and grinding
against him. God, I love the way he feels.

He grabs my hips and then we’re moving. I don’t know where
we’re going, and I don’t care. A door slams shut, then there’s something soft
beneath me. A bed. Fuck. All of a sudden, it’s like I’m possessed. I writhe
beneath him, moaning and whimpering. I can’t get enough of him. I yank at the
hem of his shirt and pull it up. He breaks away just long enough to remove it and
toss it over his shoulder. He removes the gun from his waist and tries to place
it on the nightstand, but I grab his shoulders and drag him back to me, causing
it to clatter to the floor.