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Amy's Santa: Satan's Devils MC Second Generation #1

Page 18

by Manda Mellett


  “What man doesn’t?” Lady calls out, and the women crack up.

  Well, we’re men. Got to admit Lady’s got a point.

  But as I watch them laughing, I notice Heart’s not here, neither’s Drummer nor Mouse. I expected them to be the first to greet her.

  “Prez!” comes a loud shout. “We got problems.”

  As I turn to Amy to apologise, she prods me with her hand. “Go be Prez. Oh…” She pulls me back and lifts her mouth for a kiss. I don’t disappoint her.

  Putting two fingers to my mouth I whistle loudly. “Church. Now.”

  A few good-natured groans, but brothers make their way into our meeting room, taking their seats without delay.

  I don’t waste a moment wanting to get back to Amy as soon as I can. So as soon as everyone’s settled, I kick things off. “What you got, Mouse?”

  “Archangel’s escaped from prison.”

  A stunned silence meets his words. Oh. Fuck.

  “Knew we should have fuckin’ killed him.” Drummer’s fist meets the wood. Murmurs of agreement suggest he’s not the only one thinking it.

  “Feds caught up with him first,” Wraith reminds him. “We didn’t have a chance.”

  “How the fuck did he get out?” I ask Mouse, trying to focus on the present and not re-examine the past.

  “They were moving him to a different penitentiary, seems he was causing trouble in the one he was in. He obviously had help from the outside and the prison van was hijacked. Guards killed.”

  “Christ, he’ll have everyone gunning for him,” Hound observes.

  “Wretched Soulz have put a price on his head,” Heart says. He nods toward Mouse. “Word came in just before you arrived on the compound.”

  “Think he’ll be coming our way?” It’s Shooter who asks.

  “Would he be that stupid?” Peg’s shaking his head.

  “He might be.” I turn to Hawk, willing to listen to his analysis of the situation.

  He doesn’t disappoint. “One, he might see the compound as a place to hide out, and try and coerce us into letting him stay, or, he might have discovered it was us who left evidence for the feds which allowed them to convict him. In which case, he’ll want revenge.”

  “What do you want to do, Prez?”

  My fingers drum on the tabletop as I give serious consideration to our options. “I want a meet with Raptor.” He’s the prez of the local Wretched Soulz. “Archangel can pull together a lot of manpower, we need to be united on our approach.”

  “Of course, he might not be coming for us,” Hound points out reasonably.

  But he might. So, we need to be prepared for anything.

  Archangel’s bad news. Even after all these years, white supremacists are still around, and Archangel was the leader of a group call the Real Americans whose extreme racist and patriarchal views are luckily only shared by a few. My view is they are just people with violent tendencies who would put any label on their activities, just to have a justification for the killing, stealing and vandalism that is their way of life.

  “Hound, look at our security, see if we can beef it up. Mouse, keep your ear out for any mutterings on the dark web.”

  “Lockdown?”

  Shit. Today of all days. I’ve brought my old lady back to the compound, and now we’re looking at this.

  “My view?” When Wraith lifts his hand, I raise my chin. “Check security, but we go on as usual. Archangel must be lying low. Feds will be all over Tucson due to his previous dealings here. Like you said, Prez, let’s combine our preparations with those of the Wretched Soulz.”

  “I’ll get word out to the other chapters.” I give a grateful nod at Hawk.

  I lean back in my chair, and put my foot up against the table, my hand going to my chin. I don’t need anyone to tell me, it’s the thinking pose Drummer used to employ, but it seems natural to sit like this in the top seat. “Okay. Business as usual while we try and find out if there’s any real threat. One word he’s heading our direction, we’ll revisit this discussion. Don’t want to restrict our lives for absolutely nothing at all. But everyone be careful, two up when you ride out. Keep your fuckin’ eyes open.”

  “Can I go and party now?” whines Blade.

  Hawk rolls his eyes. “F.O.Gs,” he says with disdain.

  And with that the tension is broken. Even Drummer cracks a smile.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Amy

  As I watch Drew walk away, leading his men into church, I feel a burst of pride for him. He wears the hat of the prez so easily, and it’s easy to see everyone respects him.

  I’m neither surprised nor upset he’s had to put the club first almost the moment we stepped foot on the compound. As the first lady I know what to expect, I’ve watched Sam handle the role with ease over the years, and know I’ll do well enough if I just copy what she’s always done. Mainly be there for my man, understand he’s got responsibilities, and allow him to do them without complaint. Drew will make time for me, his old lady, but the club will always take priority. I haven’t grown up in an MC not to know that.

  “You’re really back for good?” Zane, Drummer’s younger son asks me. He’s studying to be a civil engineer and we all suspect he’ll end up working with Shooter in the Satan’s Devils construction business. When he’d first told me the course he was on, I’d joked were there any impolite engineers, and he’d just given me a look and a wedgy when I’d stepped away. Boys, it seems, never grow up.

  We shoot the shit for a while, then Olivia joins us, and Zane makes himself scarce muttering something about women’s talk when I ask her about her wedding. Sam and Sophie, mother and future mother-in-law of the bride come over and join us. Then it’s all about dresses, cakes, receptions. Turns out Sophie had a quickie marriage, and Sam wasn’t given a ring at all, so they’re both enjoying the thought of a good affair by proxy. But when I see Olivia rolling her eyes, I suspect she just wants to get it done.

  “When you marrying Drew?” she asks me.

  “When he formally asks me,” I reply with a laugh. “I’ll say yes, and just want that ring on my finger. I don’t want any fuss.”

  “You think Heart and Marcia will let you get away with that?”

  “They won’t have much choice.” I think my gaining my independence means I’m stronger to stand up for myself. Olivia has never been away from the compound.

  Sam’s eying us thoughtfully. “Is this not what you want, Ollie? A big wedding, with all the trimmings?”

  Asked a direct question, she shrugs. “I’m already his old lady, I don’t need a bit of paper to commit to Eli.”

  She wouldn’t, she’s been his and he hers all their lives. Born a couple of months apart, they’ve remained inseparable.

  Sophie leans forward. “Look, how’s this for an idea? A joint wedding?”

  Olivia’s eyes widen. “Now that’s a thought. What do you think, Amy?”

  I chuckle. “Drew hasn’t asked me yet.”

  “Well hell,” Sam sits back with a grin on her face. “Now that would be freaking amazing. The prez and VP getting married at the same time. Will take some organising though, reps from all the other chapters will have to be invited.”

  I hadn’t thought about the politics of marrying the top man, to me Drew’s Drew, not Wizard. I suppose I’d been naïve thinking we could just sneak down to city hall. Drew’s not only president of this chapter, but of all the chapters of the Satan’s Devils MC. Other clubs may see it as an insult if they weren’t invited to a big bash to celebrate. While I’m not particularly shy, the idea of standing up and being the focus of attention is a scary one. I glance at Olivia, Sophie’s suggestion which means I’d be sharing the limelight starts to sound very attractive.

  “Ollie,” I start slowly, “if Drew asks me, then I think it’s a good idea if he’s happy to go along with it.”

  Sam claps her hands. “There’s no if about it, so I think we go ahead with the plan. I’m happy to help, Amy,” she nudge
s me, “I’m your proxy mom. That’s if Marc doesn’t mind me helping out.”

  “What am I helping out with?” Marc comes across and sits down.

  “Ollie and Amy’s weddings. They’ve decided to tie the knot together.”

  “He hasn’t asked me yet,” I mouth to my stepmom, rolling my eyes.

  Marc ignores me. “That sounds like a great idea.” She looks around. “Becca, Darcy, come over here. We’ve got weddings to plan.”

  “Hey, and I’m what, chopped liver? I am the mother of the bloody bride,” Sophie mock glares at Sam.

  Sam grins back. “Left to you we’d be drinking tea and feasting on crumpets.”

  Sophie shrugs, then chuckles. “Cucumber sandwiches—with the crusts cut off of course—and tea cakes and crumpets. Oh, let’s see,” she starts pulling at her fingers. “Sausage rolls, scotch eggs...”

  “I like those,” Olivia remarks.

  Sophie winks at her daughter, then continues, “Toad in the Hole, Bubble and Squeak. Oh,” she’s trying to keep a straight face, “we could have Spotted Dick.”

  Sam’s eyes widen in horror, and she turns her back on Wraith’s wife, leaning pointedly toward me. “I’ll be in charge of catering,” she says firmly.

  When I stop wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes, I wave at them to calm down. “Before you get carried away, we can’t just decide to have a joint wedding on our own. I think Drew and Eli might want a say.”

  “I’ll want a say in what?”

  So caught up in the conversation, I hadn’t realised church was over. I go bright red as I try to summon up an answer for Drew. I mean, I’m assuming he meant what he said and that he’s going to ask me, but we’re only just starting out now on our life together. He might have meant plan a wedding a year in the future. Maybe being an old lady and old man would turn out to be enough. Drummer hadn’t tied the knot with Sam, and they couldn’t be happier or more devoted.

  Olivia saves me, saying breezily, “We were just discussing my wedding arrangements.”

  When Drew raises an eyebrow toward me, I know he isn’t convinced. But it seems he’s got something else on his mind. When he holds out his hand, I take it, and he pulls me up and directs me over toward the bar.

  When we get there, he whistles loudly, attracting the attention of everyone, and of Pussy, the sweet butt who now keeps herself busy generally helping out and keeping the younger girls in line as she doesn’t have much call for her sweet butt services nowadays. Woman must be sixty, but her figure’s still fine, though her face might have her story etched within the lines.

  Pussy approaches grinning widely. She bends down and comes up with a brown paper bag.

  I forget to breathe, guessing what it is, ready to make the commitment to Drew. We might have been talking about weddings, but me wearing his rag, the Property of Wizard patch on the back feels far more significant. He owns me. It’s all I’ve wanted since I was six.

  The room falls silent.

  Drew stares at me, finally giving me the words I’ve wanted to hear almost all my life. “Amy, will you be my old lady, ride through life by my side?”

  My legs feel weak. My voice trembles as I reply, “Yes. I love you Drew.”

  He doesn’t have to say it back, his love for me shines out through his eyes as he slides the leather cut out of its wrapping and holds it out for me to put my hands through the arm holes.

  It fits perfectly, a waistcoat designed for the feminine form. I see my stepmom watching carefully as I slide it on, making me suspect she had a hand in choosing it. For a moment I stand stunned, breathing in the strong smell of new leather, then I launch myself toward him. Drew swings me up into his strong arms and my legs go up and around his waist. I raise my face and our lips meet. He thoroughly ravishes me, as I devour him in return. Lost completely in our own little world it takes someone’s shout to bring us back to the here and now.

  “Get a room!”

  I feel self-conscious as Drew lets me down, but the joy surrounding us dissipates that feeling fast. It’s not as if PDAs in the clubroom are unusual, or, when it’s only adults, sexual acts brazenly performed.

  “Amy.” Dad approaches, stealing me from Drew and hugging me tightly. “This is all I ever wanted, you here, on the compound.” His eyes glisten as he adds in a whisper, “Your mother would have been so proud.” I know he’s referring to Crystal, my birth mother not Marc.

  But Marc’s next to hug me and give me her congratulations too.

  Everyone starts getting drinks and filling their plates with the food from the delayed buffet, when Drew whistles loudly again, following it by shouting, “Quiet!”

  Gradually voices end conversations, and everyone turns to stare at him. I do too, especially when he sinks to his knees in front of me.

  My hand covers my mouth when he starts to speak, “Amy, babe, I love you. You’re wearing my property patch. What do you say to making it legal?”

  “Are you asking me to marry you?” I gasp out, knowing that’s what he’s trying to say, but slightly uncertain.

  “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” He smirks. Then, as though like magic, a gorgeous diamond ring appears in his hand. “Will you marry me, Amy? Do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

  There’s only one answer. “Yes!”

  “Double wedding!” Olivia shouts.

  “What?” demands Hawk.

  “What?” echoes Drew as he spins around.

  Then I notice a silent conversation between the prez and his VP, a variety of raised eyebrows and chin lifts. After a seemingly successful conversation, Drew turns away and takes in the men and women he’s responsible for.

  “Double wedding,” he announces to a deafening roar, stomping of feet, and the sound of fists hitting tables.

  The noise continues when he turns back to me, his eyes blazing with desire and emotion. Then, I’m over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, as he rasps, “Can’t wait any longer to fuck you wearing just that cut.”

  “That’s my daughter you’re talking about!” yells Dad, but he doesn’t sound upset.

  “Hey, I haven’t had a drink or anything to eat at my own party!” But really, I couldn’t give a damn. Just want to show him I won’t always be making it easy for him.

  He pauses, but only for the brief moment he needs to shout over his shoulder, “Sam. Save some food for us, will you? And make it a decent amount. We’ll need it.”

  The room erupts again, this time with lewd comments, hints and suggestions, and roars of laughter.

  I’m giggling as he carries me out, letting me slide to my feet as soon as we get outside the clubhouse. I stare down at the gorgeous ring that he slid onto my finger and relish in the feel of the cut across my shoulders. I don’t think anything he could do could make me love this man more.

  As we walk he whispers into my ear, “Fuck, babe, you wearing my cut’s got me so fuckin’ hard I don’t know if I can wait until we get to the suite. Might fuck you up against the wall.

  “Drew!” I swat at him. “What if my dad were to walk out and see us?”

  “Well, walk faster then.”

  To teach him a lesson I break into a run, turning so I’m moving backwards and tease him. “Think you can keep up, old man?”

  Well it appears it’s game on. I give a scream as he launches forward, and turn and flee, but as fast as I run, on his longer legs he’s quicker, and soon catches me.

  Pulling me back against him, he whispers into my ear, “You can’t ever run away from me again.”

  Mirth over, I respond seriously, “Don’t make me ever want to.”

  In an equally sober tone he replies, “Tore my own fuckin’ heart out doing that to you, Amy. That look on your face? I never want to see that again.” He places his hand over his Satan’s Devils’ patch on his cut. “I swear on my life, on my club, that I’ll never do anything to hurt you like that again.”

  I turn and wrap my arms around him for a moment, just breathing him in.
Then, lightening the moment, I raise my eyes. “I thought we were going to fuck?”

  He barks a laugh, takes my hand and pulls me the few more steps it takes to bring us to the door of his suite, then we’re inside and he’s pushing me into the room used as a bedroom.

  “Clothes off, now,” he rasps, his chest heaving as though he’s having difficulty breathing, and I suspect it’s not caused by the short run. “Put your cut back on.”

  When I do, I stand still as he walks around me. His hand briefly lingers on my ass, then I sense him standing beside me as though reading the words written on the back.

  “You’re mine.”

  “I’m yours.”

  His circuitous route around me is reminiscent of the inspection of a Dom, the difference is I don’t need to stay silent and I can ask him, “Like what you see?”

  “Fuck yes.” He slides his hand under my cut, resting his palm on the skin of my lower back. “You’re no stranger to tats, babe. So, I want mine right here. Where I can see it when I’m fuckin’ you.”

  “Alright,” I agree. The idea of having his mark on me makes me shiver.

  Now he’s in front of me, trailing his fingers down my chest, reaching my lower stomach, and then beyond. “Fuck, you’re wet for me, babe.” He closes his eyes and grasps his cock through the denim, momentarily looking like he’s in pain. “I can’t fuckin’ wait babe, I’ll make it up to you later, but now I want it hard and fast. On your knees on the bed now.”

  Another shiver goes through me at his dominant tone. It’s exactly how I want my man to be. As I obey him, he strips off his clothes in record time.

  “I want to take you bare. Put my baby in you. Have you walk down the aisle knowing you’re carrying my baby.”

  Our courtship hasn’t been conventional, our decision to be together for life fast, and we’ve both agreed we want kids one day. He’s not rushing me, his hands are gently caressing my backside, but his touch is sensual not sexual, he’s not trying to get me into a state where I wouldn’t care.

  “You don’t want to be one-upped by your VP,” I tell him, partly worried it’s the truth.

 

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