Fallen Lords MC: Books 4-6

by Winter Travers

  I swung my leg over the bike and plopped my ass down on the padded seat. “This is way better than the back of a police car.” Wrecker, Mike Billy, and Officer No-Name all stared at me. “Puhleeze. Like you all really thought I’ve never had that honor before.” I scoffed, scooted to the back of the seat, and patted in front of me. “Come on, Wrecker. I’m ready to feel the wind on my thighs and the vibrations in my hair.”

  Officer No-Name raised a finger and sputtered to talk.

  Wrecker shook his head. “Think you mean that the other way around, babe, unless you plan on riding with your head where your ass is right now.” Wrecker climbed on the bike and cranked it up.

  I squinted and thought about what I had just said. “You know what I meant,” I hollered.

  “This is complete bullshit,” Mark Allen yelled. He stomped his foot and raised the white shirt that was smeared with green spray paint. “Who is responsible for the dick, if not her?”

  Wrecker walked the bike backward out of his parking spot while Mike Billy and Officer No-Name tried to calm down Mark.

  Wrecker turned his head to look at me. “Put your arms around me, babe.”

  Another simple request that I was more than happy to comply with. “Whatever you want, Beardilocks.”

  Wrecker rocketed out of the parking lot and down the road in the opposite direction of my house.

  “Where are we going?” I hollered in his ear as he rolled through a stop sign. He was headed out of town.

  “Going for a ride, babe. The air will do ya good.” He took a left at the grocery store then floored it.

  It wasn’t like I could argue with him. His bike was damn loud, and I didn’t want to nag him while he drove.

  So, I was going for a ride with Wrecker because the air would do me good.

  Whatever the hell that meant.

  But honestly, even though it didn’t make all that much sense to me, I wasn’t going to complain.

  I was drunk off margaritas and on the back of Wrecker’s bike with my body plastered against him.

  This was way better than being arrested for painting a stellar dick on Mark Allen’s car.

  *

  Chapter 9

  Wrecker

  I drove for an hour before I felt her body relax against me.

  “Wake up, babe.” I grabbed her arm, and she startled against my back.

  “I’m up.”

  Bullshit, she was. I shouldn’t have driven for so long with her on the back since she was drunk. I didn’t need her falling asleep and becoming a speed bump on the road.

  Five miles back, I had spotted a sign for a motel. “Stay awake for five more minutes,” I called.

  She laid her head on my shoulder. “Trying,” she mumbled. “The bike is putting me to sleep.” I lightly pinched the skin on her arm, and she yelped. “Really?” she yelled.

  “Woke ya up, didn’t it?”

  We drove ten more minutes before we rolled into town and I saw the motel that had been advertised. The parking lot was empty except for two cars.

  “What are we doing?” she asked.

  I pulled into a parking spot outside the front office and killed the engine. “Getting a room. You’re not going to be able to make it home.”

  She sat back, and the cool night air met my back where she had been plastered against me. “How do you even know where we are?”

  I didn’t know where we were. I had just driven because I wanted to keep Alice on the bike with me. “It matter where we are? Climb off,” I ordered.

  “No. This place looks like Norman Bates’ cousin’s.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?”

  She shrugged. “It just comes out.”

  “I’m gonna go see if they have any rooms available. You coming?”

  She rolled her eyes and scooted off the bike. “You’re not leaving me behind to be the first one killed. I’ve watched scary movies before, and this is how they always start. Not today, Satan. I ain’t ready to die.”

  I got off the bike, grabbed her hand, and drug her behind me. “I’ve seen scary movies before, too. They’re filled with dumb people. You ain’t dumb, babe.”

  She sputtered and wrapped her other hand over my bicep. “That’s not a common assumption about me.”

  “Assuming something only makes an ass out of people.”

  I pushed open the door and walked in with Alice attached to me.

  The guy behind the desk lifted his head from the computer screen in front of him and plastered a huge smile on his face. “Hello, folks. So happy you decided to stop at the Hideaway.”

  “What do they hide here, bodies?” Alice hissed.

  “We need a room for the night.”

  “You are in luck. We happen to have a few to choose from.” He clicked away on his computer. “Would you like something in front or by the pool?”

  “They have a pool?” Alice gasped. One minute, she was worried about dead bodies, and now, she was excited they had a pool.

  I leaned against the desk and pulled Alice to my side. She didn’t let go of my hand, and I wasn’t about to shrug her off. “One by the pool.”

  “Nice choice, nice choice,” he muttered. “We just so happened to have renovated the one I just put you in.” He grabbed two cards from the pile and ran them through a small machine. “I’ll just need a credit or debit card, and you two will be good to go.”

  I grabbed my wallet and laid a credit card on the desk. “You guys got breakfast?”

  “Sure do, sure do.” This guy was into repeating himself. A lot. “Every morning from six to eleven.”

  “Waffles?” Alice piped up.

  “Yup, yup. We have got the waffles, little lady.” He winked at her. “They happen to be a favorite of mine especially when I put a few chocolate chips in them.” He swiped my credit card, printed off a receipt, and wrote down the plate number on the bike. “Anything else I can get you two folks?” He handed back my card and the two room keys.

  “No. We’re good. Just point us in the direction we need to go.”

  “Head around the building and you will be the room right in front of the entrance to the pool. Three-twelve.”

  I nodded and tugged Alice out the front door.

  “Thank you,” Alice called before the door shut. “You could have said thank you,” she scolded me.

  I threw a leg over the bike. “I nodded.”

  She rolled her eyes and hopped on behind me. “Try words next time, caveman.”

  I backed the bike a few steps and cranked the wheel. “I think I like Beardilocks better.”

  *

  Chapter 10

  Alice

  “Is there a coin slot next to the bed?” This was the strangest but most amazing hotel room I had ever been in before. When the guy at the front desk said it was recently renovated, he must have meant back in the eighties.

  Wrecker kicked off his boots and reached into his pocket. He held up a quarter and smirked. “Only one way to find out, babe.”

  Like I was going to miss the chance to try it out. I grabbed the quarter and dove onto the bed. “Here we go.” I dropped the quarter in the slot and nothing happened. “What a freakin’ bummer.”

  Wrecker walked over to the end of the bed and gave it a kick.

  “Holy shit,” I screamed when the bed started shimming and shaking under me. “Ho-o-o-w i-i-i-s-s-s t-his se-e-e-xy?” I chattered. I rolled over onto my back, thinking maybe it would be a good massage.

  “You gonna sleep like that?”

  I slapped my hand over my mouth as my stomach rolled, and I swallowed down the margaritas that were begging to make a reappearance.

  Wrecker grabbed my arm, hauled me off the bed, and I stood shakily. I slapped my hand on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

  “You good, babe?” he asked.

  I reached up and plastered my hand over his face. “Shh…The room is moving.”

  “Maybe the vibrating bed wa
sn’t the best idea with a stomach full of booze.”

  I nodded. “Instant regret,” I moaned.

  He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. “Deep breath, babe.”

  “I’m going to have to sleep on the floor. The bed of shakes is a no-go for me.”

  He chuckled and gave me a squeeze. “It’ll turn off, babe.”

  Hmm, the damn thing was still shaking like an earthquake with no signs of stopping. “We should have gotten snacks.”

  Wrecker buried his head in my hair. “You go from puking to snacks in five seconds flat, babe.”

  “I’m complicated like that,” I quipped. Besides, once he had gotten me off the bed, my stomach had quieted. “Pringles are always a good idea anyway.”

  “How about we see if we can order a pizza?”

  I leaned back, and he raised his head. “I have never heard more sexier words come out of your mouth.”

  “Breadsticks?”

  I fanned my face with my hand. “Sweet nibblets, Wrecker. I don’t think I can handle this. Pizza and breadsticks. Between the beard and your ability to tune into my snacking needs, I might never let you out of this room.”

  “You’re crazy, babe.”

  “I know,” I sighed. “I hear it all the time.” And while it was true, it got pretty damn annoying to hear constantly. “Sometimes, I’d like to hear something new than the usual ‘you’re so crazy.’” The bed finally stopped shaking, and I kicked off my shoes. Now, I could lie down without wanting to throw up.

  He brushed my hair back from my face and tucked it behind my ear. “Hit a sore spot?”

  I shrugged. “Not really. Just a bit annoying to hear all the time.” I reached up and threaded my fingers through his beard. “You could make up for it by buying me pizza, though.”

  “Food fixes most things with you, huh?”

  “For the most part.”

  “And what are the things that food doesn’t fix?”

  I tugged gently on his beard. “Are we really going to go there tonight? I’m drunk and hungry.”

  “I can fix the hungry part and start drinking water. It’s been over an hour since you’ve had a drink, anyway.”

  “So that means we are going there, huh?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “We’re talking, babe, not going to Africa.”

  “Well, we’re going to need snacks and pizza before we talk or go to Africa.”

  He pulled out his phone and handed it to me. “Order pizza. I’ll run to the gas station on the corner and get snacks.”

  “Wait, I’ll go with you to get snacks. You don’t know what I like.” I held his phone out to him.

  He pushed my hand away and walked to the door. “Pringles and every other junk food the place has to offer. Sound about right?”

  Well, that was a good place to start. “I like Coke. The soda, not the drug.”

  He stroked his beard and laughed. “Not a drug run, good to know.”

  I rolled my eyes and flipped him off. “You’re an ass.”

  “We’ve gone over this before, babe. You calling me an ass doesn’t bother me.”

  “Who said I’m trying to bother you? I’m just stating a fact.” I crossed my arms over my chest and took a step back.

  “Your facts are shit, babe. I’m an ass, but I’ve hardly been that to you.”

  I think his definition of an ass was way different than mine. “Um, you coming over all the time, telling me what to do, and well, just being you is ass-ish.”

  “Ass-ish?” he drawled.

  “Nothing I say right now can be held against me because I’m drunk-ish.”

  “That would mean everything you’ve ever said to me can’t be held against you.”

  I tapped my finger to my chin. “That’s not entirely true. I think when I first met you, I hadn’t been drinking.”

  “Babe, you fucking curtsied.”

  “Not sure what your point is right now.”

  He took a step closer. “Who the hell curtsies?”

  “I thought it was respectful because you are the president.”

  “Of a motorcycle club, babe, not of the country.”

  “Tomatoes, toMAtoes,” I shrugged. “They’re both pretty impressive in my book.”

  “I think you just gave me a compliment.”

  I scoffed and shook my head. “I did no such thing. I curtsied before I knew you.”

  “So, you wouldn’t curtsy to me now?”

  He took another step closer, and I stepped back. I grabbed onto Wrecker’s shoulders before I went ass-over-tea kettle. “Does it really matter?” I stammered.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and splayed his hands across my back. “Need to know if I should keep going down the path I’m on.”

  “Uh, this path? I can tell you, if you keep walking this way, you’ll only end up in bed.” I looked over my shoulder. “Yeah, totally a bed there.”

  He leaned down and brushed his lips across my ear. “That’s exactly where I’m headed, babe. Taking you with me, too.”

  “Too?” I squeaked. He pulled me close, and I turned my head to look at him. “I’m a little intoxicated and confused on what is going on here.”

  “Nah, babe. You know exactly what is going on here. You just like to bury your head in the sand and ignore all the signs.”

  “Signs?” I was like a parrot repeating everything he said.

  “Why do you think I keep showing up, Alice?”

  I gulped. “Uh, cause you’re an ass.”

  “My ass has nothing to do with this.”

  Now all I could think about was his ass and how I hoped it had something to do with this. “You’re awfully close to me.”

  “Yeah,” he whispered.

  “Um, why?”

  “Because being close to you is the only thing that makes sense when you’re around.”

  I nodded. I didn’t get any of this. “Completely at a loss here, Wrecker. I have no idea what to say.”

  “I think that’s part of your problem, babe. You think you always need to have something to say when sometimes, silence says it all.”

  “Silence and I don’t really do well together.” I talked to myself when I was all alone. That was proof that silence was not something I did. Ever.

  “How about we give it another try”

  “Give wha—”

  He closed the distance between us and brushed his lips against mine. “Shh.” His lips captured mine, and he kissed me.

  It was nice.

  My God, was it nice.

  It was gentle.

  Unhurried.

  He kissed me like there was nothing else in the world except for me and him. My fingers clenched his shirt between them, and I tried to feel everything at once.

  His scratchy yet soft beard brushing against my chin.

  The way his hands rested on my hips, holding me in place.

  His scent. My God, did this man smell good. I was going to find out what cologne he wore and dump it on my pillow at home.

  He broke the kiss and whispered against my lips. “See how silence can be a good thing, babe?”

  Now that was some silence that I could get used to having in my life. I involuntarily made a mewling noise in the back of my throat, and his eyes darkened with lust.

  He had rendered me speechless. I didn’t want to talk; all I wanted to do was kiss him. At least fifty million more times.

  My hands moved up, snaking around his neck, and I delved my fingers into his hair in the back. “I might be a fan of that kind of silence.”

  “Figured you would be up to it,” he drawled. He kissed me again. This time, taking instead of just giving. His beard scraped along my chin and my hands itched to bury my fingers in it. I was borderline obsessed with touching his beard. Being this close to it was almost orgasmic.

  His lips trailed along my jawline and down my neck. “You taste like fucking watermelon, babe.”

  Thank you, Bath and Body Works. “Oh yeah?” I
gasped. “You somehow smell like freedom and sex.”

  His lips froze on my skin, and his hands squeezed my hips. “Come again?”

  Where the hell was my filter when I needed it? “Uh, I mean you smell nice too. Not like watermelon, but…”

  “Freedom and sex?” he laughed.

  Ugh. Kill me now. I was forever destined to be making a fool of myself. “Yeah.”

  “Gonna have to take your word for that one because I’m not sure what that smells like. Just put cologne on each morning.”

  “What kind?” I asked desperately. Here was my shot to buy stock in whoever made it.

  “Rag and Bone.”

  I had never heard of it before, but I committed the name to memory. “I like it.”

  “Kind of figured that.”

  I bit my lip. “Uh, can we get back to silence?”

  “Anything for you, babe.” His lips claimed mine again. I didn’t think I would ever get used to the thrill that coursed through me when his lips touched me. The softness of his lips with the light scratch of his beard was an intoxication sensation I never wanted to lose.

  His arms wrapped around me, and he walked me back ‘til my calves hit the mattress, and we tumbled onto the bed.

  “Look, we made it to your destination,” I giggled.

  “Sure did, babe.” His hands traveled up my sides, tugging my shirt up and over my breasts. A low growl rumbled from his throat. “Damn.”

  I raised my arms and laid them over my head. “Now you know what I think every time I touch your beard.”

  His eyes looked up from my breasts. “You have a slight obsession with my beard.”

  It was a statement rather than a question. “Um, yes.” There was really no point in denying it. Maybe with him knowing, he would let me have my way with it.

  “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

  “Well, it’s right in front of me,” I whined. “You’re taunting me with it.”

  A sexy as sin smirk crossed his lips. “I bet you wonder what it feels like against your skin.”