Havoc- Reapers MC Boxset

by Elizabeth Knox

  On every single wall, mannequin, hanger, shelf, and advertisement was a piece of clothing that made my expression turn a thousand shades burgundy. Everywhere my eyes roamed, I was met with a choice of clothing more scandalous than the previous.

  The mannequin at the front was nowhere this sexy and full of risk. G-strings were skimpier. The bras were padded into halves so the cleavage would push up fully. There were corsets, garter belts, and even stockings to fishnets on every clad figure.

  I was trying my best not to face him when my own expression betrayed me by reveling in my shock. Cleopatra back in my high school years was never this risque. I bought underwear here that covered my ass––not expose it on a golden platter.

  With a deep inhale, I pulled myself together and began to stray from Blackjack as I looked at all the collections. I spotted a hanger which just so happened to hold a cute baby-blue eyelet bra with white lace across its edges. On the center was a little bow that accented below where the cleavage should be. I picked it up and draped the bra over my arm only to feel myself grow uncomfortable and not an ounce surer of myself.

  “Would you like a bag for that?” A woman’s voice came behind me.

  I turn around quickly to see a red-haired retail personnel greet me with her bestselling smile.

  “Yes, please––I’d appreciate that.”

  On her arm was a group of fiber knit bags for collecting underwear. As she offers one to me, I gladly grab it to stuff the lacy piece of lingerie inside. Phew, that was a close one.

  “Are you looking for anything in particular?” She asks.

  “Just panties and bras,” I smile sheepishly. At this point, it wouldn’t hurt to ask for help.

  “Oh! What’s your size, honey?” She flashes her bright green eyes.

  “Erm, I’m a 34 DD, I think.”

  Perfect, most of our sizes range from 32-38 so you’ve come to the right place,” She assured before guiding me across the store

  As I look behind me, I notice that Blackjack seemed distracted with something on his phone. Probably a text from one of the guys, or someone else.

  “Here’s more of our lighter toned bras. I noticed you liked our eyelet selection of blues,” she chimes beside me.

  I replace my glance to the shelves in front of me, surprised by the lack of black underwear. It was a change from all the black lingerie I was smothered with before. There were pinks, periwinkles, lavenders, and even mint greens. From the collection, I plucked out a creamy white that looked like a semi corset top.

  “Excellent choice, Miss.” She muses at my choice, “The Oleander long-line bra is one of our most popular items for brides to be. Are you getting married by chance?”

  “What?” I ask, astonished. “No, no. I recently...”

  She put her hands up, “Oh, I’m so sorry––I just assumed that you and the gentlemen you walked in with were…”

  “Oh, him?” I look back over to Blackjack who just so happened to be watching us in the distance. Just his very glance startled me.

  “He’s, well,” I say, trying to come up with something smart.

  “No need to explain.” She reassures me with a warm smile. “Do you like the item though?”

  At the question, I look back to the bra and examine it for another five seconds before nodding, “It’s quite lovely. I haven’t worn anything like this in a while.”

  “It’s never too late to start,” she suggests casually. “I think it’d definitely suit you.”

  “What makes you say that?” I ask, curiosity brewing in me.

  “Well, blondes have a natural relationship with whites. And your skin is so tan, so it’ll make the bra details accentuate the natural skin tone of yours.”

  “I suppose so.” I think aloud, smirking at the thought of what Blackjack would think if he caught me in it. “I’ll give it a try.”

  “Sounds wonderful!”

  After just five minutes, she was able to fill my bag with at least eight types of panties that she thought would go great with my legs. Some of the choices seemed a little beyond me, to be honest––but, what the hell. I could try black mesh and see if it’s up to my par. With her selection of panties, she also suggested a couple of mermaid blue bras that went well with the blues of my eyes. There was one black eyelet bra that I was keen on trying out just because it seemed to ooze sex appeal just from staring at it.

  “If you need anything else, feel free to ask.” She smiles with assurance as I slip into the changing room.

  “You’ve been an immense help. Believe me.” I say with a laugh. Before I closed the door behind me, a thought came to my head. “Have you seen the man I was with before by chance?”

  “Oh! He’ll be waiting for you outside! I showed him to a seat by the changing rooms, but he should be able to hear you if you call for him.”

  “Thanks.” I smile.

  As I closed the door behind me to look in the mirror, I drew in a big breath. Well, it wasn’t quite what I planned, but, whatever. I could take advantage of this and spoil myself even without an audience.

  I started with the white long-line corset bra and opened it up by the notches along its spine. With every unfold I made, it made me wonder how the hell was I going to get it to close from the back when I could barely undo it as it was. It didn’t matter, I’d find a way eventually. I had ten minutes to get through all of them and this was going to be a piece of cake.

  Before I tried on the bra, I slipped out of my jeans and slipped on the complimenting Oleander white-lace panty over my blue thong. I tilted my hips left and right, hands up to my sides to see if they really did make my legs look nice.

  I couldn’t tell the difference, if I was going to be honest. But I did like the soft white look across my tan skin. Avoiding any more delays, I slipped off the bra I came in with and let it fall to the side before I slipped on the white semi-corset bra. As I started hooking the bottom notches behind me, I felt the corset hugging up against the level of my ribs. I throw my head back to arch my back into my hands only to feel something tight pull at my hair once I start working my way up. My brows furrow and I start to lower my chin down until I was stopped with a sting across my scalp.

  “Shit!” I snap out, hissing.

  I tilt my head back with my hands still awkwardly searching up the corset notches. My fingers end up roaming through my blonde hair, unsure of where the snag was. With a low sigh, I take a hold of my hair and try to pull my chin back down to my neck only for the sting to intensify, making me yelp out at the pain.

  “Ow––mph!”

  “Monroe?” A voice came from the dressing room. It was Blackjack.

  “Yeah?” I sound out, nervousness filling my voice.

  “Is everything okay?” He asks.

  I take in a slow breath, trying my best not to move as frantically as I did before. One more pull and I could just as well be yanking a chunk of my own hair out. Easy does it, Ashley.

  “Yeah, just.. struggling with this––thing,” I say, mentally cursing myself for being so vague.

  “Do you need help?”

  “Is the lady who was helping me out there?” I ask.

  There was a brief pause before he responded, “I think she’s helping out another customer.”

  “Oh––that’s okay.” I lie, rubbing my hair between my fingers hopelessly. “I’ll take care of it…ow!”

  “Ashley––”

  “No, really! I’ve got this!”

  “I’m coming in, Monroe.” His voice comes up from behind the door.

  “Don’t you dare, Blackjack,” I warn him only for another sting to pass through my hair, “Agh! Fine––fine. Just don’t look!”

  He scoffs behind the door, “Just who do you think I am.”

  “Not a gentleman at this rate, I huff before unlocking the door with my spare hand.

  “And don’t you know it.” His voice comes up from behind my shoulder as he steps in, the sound setting shivers down my spine.

  I gulp
down my insecurity and look up at the reflection of the mirror where he stands behind me. His eyes were looking down at the mess I made of my hair, shaking his head at the sight.

  “Jesus, Ash. I don’t know much about this kind of stuff but––”

  “Don’t say it,” I say flatly.

  “––I think you’re doing it wrong.” I give up, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

  “Hold still,” he tells me before sliding his fingers across the bottom of my hair.

  With a bite of my lip, I watch him in the mirror with his attention fixed on me. I could feel the hair shift left and right as he tries his best to save me from the pain. It seemed unlike him to be so gentle with that rough façade of his–but somehow, it made me burn to touch him with the way he treated me so delicately. If he even touched the bridge of my spine, it was a ghost like brush of skin that I didn’t think he even recognized.

  It made my body warm with that curious buzz running along my nerves. Waiting for him to do it again, even if it was on purpose. I close my eyes, waiting patiently in the silence. However, my hair soon enough loosened its pull on my head and I was left to slip my chin back down to the level of my neck.

  “There. All better.” He whispers lowly.

  I open my eyes slowly, as if I had been caught in a dewy dream. His eyes were sitting on my shoulder as his hands brush my hair away from my back. I watch him as his figure leans down, my breath stopped in the middle of my throat. The line of his mouth catches the cliff of my shoulder and the warmth presses itself down, splitting my nerves into a warm shudder of want and need. A soft gasp passes from my lips as he takes my jaw in his hand, guiding me to his face while he kisses his way up my neck.

  Shit. I’ve missed this.

  I’ve missed him.

  I tilt my head into his hand. Not away from his mouth but away so that he could keep exploring with his mouth. Explore, he did. His lips caught me at every soft spot on my flesh. Testing that heartbeat that drilled in the hollow of my throat as he held me, his opposite hand slid down to my thigh––hooking the white panties with his careful thumb.

  “Mmm.” I let out, the warmth of his chest making me pull myself closer to him. It’s been years since we’ve been this close, I can’t believe I ever let him pull away from me.

  I pressed my ass to his hips and without a warning, he turned me around to pin my body across the wall of the changing room. I breathe in his cologne, the husky scent rinsing down my senses. Suddenly, his mouth was finally on mine–hot and demanding with a hunger driving me crazy. I kiss him back, driving the same force back up to him. The hand on my hip squeezes my skin and it drives me up the wall.

  “Rob,” I moan up to his ear before I could stop.

  The sound of his name makes him stop in his tracks as his mouth leaves me. I was panting as he left me at the wall, turning his back to my state. I watch him, breathless and confused.

  I’m so sorry.” He brings a hand up to the back of his neck before shaking his head. “That was…”

  “I… wait. Don’t!”

  “It won’t happen again,” he says, the resolution firm in his voice. “I’m so sorry, Ash.”

  I didn’t understand.

  The confusion mixing in the pit of my stomach grew even when he left me alone in the changing room. For the rest of my five minutes, I didn’t try on any other items. Instead, I ended up leaving everything in the hands of the woman who assisted me when she came back to check on me. She asked me if I wanted to put the items on hold if I returned, but I didn’t think I would. Despite that, she reassured me that she’d set them aside until next week if I changed my mind. That was sweet of her.

  On the way back, Blackjack and I didn’t say a word. The car was jamming to Aerosmith, but no one was singing aloud. We were back to sitting in the ice bath with nothing to talk about. The worst part is, I didn’t know if I should regret it at all. It felt so right but, was it wrong?

  Did I push him too far? Or did I finally get the taste of what I lost years ago?

  I didn’t care anymore. I’d lost him once because of things we couldn’t change. I was home, and I was going to be happy. Rob always did that, and dammit, I’m going to fight for him now, even if he can’t bring himself to fight for me.

  Chapter 7

  Ashley

  Since I’ve been back home sunset after sunset has quickly passed me by. I didn’t know what to do with the spare days flying over my head. Time was slipping through my fingers and I was losing sight of the approaching weekend.

  Over the past few days the weather has been starting to cool down, which meant that most of the guys were out riding today. In our club, we did things a little differently.

  Sure – we weren’t people who abided by every law that the men in blue set into motion, but we were good people. My father always had a few men patrolling the highways for any type of suspicious activity and today, that also meant looking to see if we could figure out where the missing drugs were. He wouldn’t admit that there was a problem, but I could see it. The shipments were running short, which meant we had a mole. The question was, who was it?

  Dad assigned Roach double shifts while the big boys were riding around trying to locate our mole that he wouldn’t admit we had. It was no coincidence that every time I drove the Honda to the entrance, Roach made it a point to spit at the wheels of the car before he let me leave. With that shitty attitude, he’d never be patched in as a full member. I’d make damn sure of it too.

  While the boys were away, I decided to stay behind and clean up after last night’s dinner. The kitchen sink was halfway full of dirty dishes from the previous night’s impromptu backyard barbeque and I didn’t have anything better to do with my time. My arms were elbows-deep in the sink, scrubbing away the crumbs embedding the plates.

  As I draw my hands itself into the sink of soapy water, my thoughts couldn’t help but to retrace back to the dark lit changing rooms. For the past couple of days, I tried to understand what was going through Blackjack’s head at the time. His arms had surrounded me in such a grip that threatened never to let go and yet in one hot flash, he pulled away from me as if he was going to melt at the sound of his name. But, why?

  He was the one that initially kissed me and even when I kissed him back, he didn’t pull away. How is it that the taste of the kiss was full of so much want and yet when I was craving more, he could pull away at the sound of my voice. Years ago, he and I had something. Neither of us can deny that. It shouldn’t have happened, but God did it ever. I was sixteen, and his age far surpassed mine. It was wrong, and both of us knew that. We both tried to fight it, and boy did we ever. Our story didn’t end well though, because he just vanished.

  He just left without as so much as saying goodbye.

  I couldn’t put my finger on it but my self-doubt certainly could. He was just too damn good for me. How could he even settle on someone who’s been broken by a vile man. Perhaps, my desperation to be touched spoiled it for him. It was a fleeting thought and now that he’s got his fill of curiosity, he’s had enough of me. After all, I’ve never had my questions answered from what happened years ago.

  No––that doesn’t sound like him either. Was it because of his close relations with my father? Speaking of which, just how close did he and Dad get after I left home? If Dad has been building a relationship with Blackjack as key member of the club, it would make sense that he wouldn’t want to ruin what they’d both been working towards. But to hell with it!

  I’m an independent woman. It doesn’t matter the age difference when I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Everyone in this damn club and even the surrounding towns knew that the Monroe’s took care of themselves to provide for the family. I’ve done my part in the past to keep that motto firm.

  Despite that, maybe I was getting too ahead of myself.

  When I stumbled back into the club with my bruises, it was well known that I wasn’t capable of recognizing who I was even marrying. Harry had
stripped me of my dignity when I fell for his facade. I honestly believed that I was safe and loved in shallow marriage––no deeper than a dirty puddle left by the rain. And here I was––no longer just a Monroe but also a Vale.

  Being dubbed “Mrs. Vale” left a dirty stain across my Monroe brand. It was no wonder that Blackjack turned away when I spoke his name. He was brought back to reality while I was still sitting in flightless hope. It left a sinking feeling in my stomach and my conscience betrayed me well enough to the point that––

  SHCHK!!

  ––a plate slipped out from my soapy fingers and shattered into the sink.

  “Shit,” I hissed, churning the bubbles away from the clear water.

  The bubbles waded off to the edge, but I curled my fingers too quick. A shard of the plate cut my skin, burning and forcing me to jerk the hand out of the water.

  “Damn it!”

  My opposite hand clutched my wet fingers tight. I bit my bottom lip as I inspected the wound. A breath hitches in the back of my throat at the sight of blood trickling from the cliffs of my fingers to the length of my wrist. My eyes searched my hand for the wound only to recognize the wet slit on the inside of my index and middle finger.

  When I pursed the flesh down to look for anything that might’ve gotten inside, the gap increased with a sudden sharp sensation. I clenched my eyes shut at the pain as another hiss escaped my breath. Soap had gotten in the wound and was wringing an uncomfortable sting inside the tear. I maneuvered away from the sink quickly, carrying my hand against my chest as I looked for a clean rag.

  When I couldn’t find one laying on the counter, I dug into the nearest cabinet and found one next to the silverware. I clutched the checkered rag and dried the wound before anymore soapy water could fester inside. The sting revolted against the rag but slowly, I managed to coax my hand into a dull ache.

  That was so stupid of me. Just where did my mind go?

  I shook my head at the sight of the rag as I headed back to the sink, turning off the faucet. The soapy water had cleared up and the plate shards were more apparent in the water. That could’ve done me some good before I cut myself. Damn.