Magnum: A Dark Knights MC/Dirty Angels MC Crossover

by Jeanne St. James

  “I understand your concern. But in truth, it was meant to be a harmless invitation. We’re friends besides being co-workers.”

  Bullshit. “I ask Cait that, that what she’s gonna say?”

  Gallo’s mouth tightened around the edges. “I would hope so.”

  “Gonna ask her then,” Magnum crossed his arms over his chest, “but not while you’re standin’ here.” He gave Gallo a pointed look. One he was pretty fucking sure wasn’t hard to read.

  “Oh, yes... Okay. Well, then. I look forward to seeing you in Lake George next week, Mr. Moore, and getting to know you much better. Welcome to the Gallo family.”

  That motherfucker was crazy. Especially when he stuck out his hand again. This time Magnum didn’t take it. He let it hang until Gallo curled his fingers into his palm and then strode quickly toward his Jaguar which wasn’t parked anywhere near Cait’s Toyota since the fucker had front row parking. Unlike Cait.

  Magnum ripped open the driver’s door and tried to squeeze in. “Jesus fuck!” he growled and leaned in, plugged the key into the ignition to move the power seat as far back as possible. He lost his patience as he waited for the thing to whir back slowly. When it didn’t go any farther—he made sure of it several times—he folded himself into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  “Where are we going?” Cait asked, her green eyes wide.

  He reversed out of the spot, pointed the cage toward where his sled was parked, slammed it into drive and headed to the rear of the treed lot. He found another spot out of Gallo’s view, in case the fucker was being nosy. After putting the Toyota in park, he locked the doors and twisted his head to stare at Cait staring at him from the passenger seat.

  Unfortunately, his attention was pulled elsewhere. Her skirt had slid up to mid-bare-thigh and he could see the top curves of her fucking tits way too easily in that blouse. He needed to focus somewhere else. He wouldn’t lie, it was a struggle. “Told ‘im you got a boyfriend.”

  “Yes, I told you that the other night.”

  “Got one I don’t know about?”

  “Uh... no?”

  “Sounds like you ain’t sure. You sure?” Before she could answer, he continued, “Coulda got Coop or Rooster or any of the prospects to pretend to be your boyfriend at those fuckin’ ‘family get-togethers’ to get him off your scent. You told Dawg you had someone sniffin’ ‘round you, he would’ve insisted someone be with you durin’ those things.”

  “Jesus, Magnum—or should I call you Malcolm?—I’m not having a prospect or anyone from DAMC with me during a work function.”

  He didn’t give a fuck what she called him. It was the other part that needed his attention. “Why not?”

  “Because...” Her mouth hung open as she stared straight out of the windshield. “Because they wouldn’t fit in with that crowd.”

  “And you don’t want ‘em knowin’ your pop’s DAMC.”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Cait made a face, then sighed. “Okay, yes. Like I told you, they think Paul is my father. It’s better they think that way.”

  Because life was so much fucking better when your daddy was rich and had pull versus when your real daddy was full of tats, wore club colors, rode a badass sled, used to manage a strip club where he met her stepmother, Emma, had a long, scruffy beard and took no shit unless it came from his wife or daughters.

  Yeah, life was so much easier when it was clean and neat. And fit society’s standards.

  Dawg, Magnum and the rest of them did not.

  “Fuckin’ Caitie,” he grumbled, his jaw tight.

  Cait flung her hand toward the building they currently couldn’t see and then dug her fingers into her hair, yanking it back from her face. “I’m just starting out, Magnum... Christ! I have a long way to go to make decent money and to make a name in this industry. Why the hell would I do anything to handicap that?”

  “An’ your pop bein’ a biker’s a handicap.” He didn’t even bother to make it a question because he knew it was the fucking truth. This was exactly why that goddamn kiss had been a mistake. The one where he wanted to pin her against the wall and fuck her long and hard until she screamed his name, until he staked his claim.

  And if she hadn’t taken a breath when she did, hadn’t broken that fucking kiss when they heard that door slam, he might have done just that and in the end would have been the worst mistake she ever made. Or maybe the second worst after leaving her drink unattended, thinking she could trust the people surrounding her.

  Just like she thought she could trust him. Trust him with her secret. Trust him to do the right thing. Trust him to help her and then they both go on their merry fucking way afterward.

  “Jesus fuck,” he bit off.

  She twisted her head toward him and when her eyes hit his, it got him.

  It fucking got him.

  Right in the chest. Causing an ache so painful he struggled to take his next breath.

  “I don’t have a problem with my father being a biker, you fucking know that.” Her voice was thicker than normal. “I love him. I love my sisters and Emma, too. I also love everyone in the club. Everyone shouts about how they’re family. And it’s true. Could I have gone to anyone in the club and asked for help? Yes, I could have. But I also know... I don’t want to be responsible for...”

  She dropped her head and stared at her lap. Her body expanded as she inhaled a ragged breath. And when she turned back to him, those green eyes of hers were shiny and that got him right in the chest, too, pulling him deeper than he already was. A puddle so fucking deep if he ever escaped, he’d never be able to completely scrape off the mud.

  Her lower lip trembled, her voice was now thin and on the verge of breaking. “I should’ve never asked you to help me. It was wrong. But I didn’t know what to do.”

  Fuck. She was showing an emotion he’d never seen from her before.

  She got her steel balls from her father, but right now, she was as vulnerable as her youngest sister, Emmalee.

  “Caitie,” he whispered, that uncomfortable ache swelling to the point he thought it would split open his chest.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry I ever asked you. Sorry I put you in this situation. Just forget about it. I’ll handle it.”

  She unlocked the doors and before she could open hers, he hit the locks again. “Don’t you get out of this cage ‘til we’re done.”

  Her bottom lip trembled again as she tried to keep her shit together. Seeing her upset guaranteed one thing.

  If it was Gallo on that video, he was going to die.

  “I came to you by mistake because I panicked and didn’t know what to do or how to handle it. I know now that I need to do this on my own.”

  I came to you by mistake...

  “How? How the fuck you gonna handle this?”

  Her eyes hit his, and they were no longer teeming with tears, they were hard and focused. “How the fuck are you going to handle this?”

  He would tell her the truth. A truth that would probably make her father’s head explode. A father who managed a fucking gun shop full of weapons and ammo. But he told her anyway. “As if you were Knights’ property, Cait.”

  She stared at him for the longest time, their breathing the only sound heard. Finally, she whispered, “But I’m not.”

  No, she wasn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  “I never should’ve gotten you involved.”

  “Too fuckin’ late.”

  He caught the twinge of relief that crossed her face. It was there and gone quicker than shit.

  “So, now what?”

  “Gonna tuck my fuckin’ balls between my legs and go to some goddamn retreat at a fuckin’ lake I never heard of. Try to keep my goddamn temper and not murder that motherfucker durin’ a goddamn motivational speech.”

  She pressed her lips together hard and it took her a while to be able to say, “You don’t have to go.”

  She was de
ad wrong about that. “The fuck I don’t. The fuck if you’re goin’ somewhere where that motherfucker is for a week without protection.”

  “I can take Coop, like you said.”

  Coop would probably fit in better if he shaved that out of control shit off his face and cut his hair, or at least brushed it. He was white, still on the early side of thirty, and if he hid his tats and wore the right clothes, he’d be a more believable boyfriend than Magnum.

  But that wasn’t ever going to happen. Not on Magnum’s watch. And the fuck if Coop was staying in her room at some resort in another state.

  “How the fuck you explainin’ that to Dawg? Coop disappearin’ would raise questions.”

  Her lips twisted. “Good point.”

  “Got ‘em sometimes.”

  Her mouth twitched slightly, which made his do the same.

  He was glad the threat of tears was long gone because her being upset made him mental. It shouldn’t but it was now a proven fact it did.

  He reached out, slid his fingers into the long hair alongside her ear and pulled her toward him. Before he thought twice about it, he pressed his forehead to hers and just breathed for a few heartbeats. “Baby?”

  “Yeah?”

  She did not fight him calling her that. And that mud at the bottom of that puddle suddenly became bottomless. Muck he might never fucking escape.

  “Know all this sucks. Sorry this shit ever fuckin’ happened to you. Know you feel you’re stuck between a rock an’ a hard place. But I’m gonna find a way to move that rock, yeah?”

  “I think I’m expecting too much from you and I should’ve gone to the police.”

  “Then the shit you were tryin’ to avoid woulda happened. I get there are times we gotta avoid goin’ at things directly and take the long way around to get where we’re goin’. And that’s the path we’re takin’.”

  “We?”

  “Yeah. I’m all in, Caitie. Gonna find out who the motherfucker is who did that to you and gonna take care of it.”

  Going to take care of him, whoever the fuck he was.

  Her fingers spread along his jaw, the tips pressing hard into his cheek. “I don’t want you going to jail for me.”

  “Ain’t goin’ to jail.”

  “You promise?” Their faces were so close, her breath whispered over his lips.

  He couldn’t promise that but he’d do his best not to land in the joint.

  But if he had to, he’d do time for her. To get her justice. He’d done time in the past, and, yeah, it fucking sucked. Even so, he’d do it again, if needed. It just needed to be worth it.

  “Would you care?” he asked in a whisper.

  “You know I would,” she whispered back.

  “How do I know that, baby?”

  She placed a hand firmly against his chest and spread her fingers over his heart. “You know.”

  You know.

  This was dangerous.

  You know.

  With their foreheads still pressed together and their lips so fucking close...

  Her scent...

  That fucking skirt that hugged the flare of her hips and thighs.

  Her tits. Her smooth, ivory skin that needed his mark.

  That silky green fabric like shiny Christmas wrapping paper he wanted to tear off his present...

  He wanted to touch her, but he also kept thinking about how someone recently touched her without her wanting it. Shit he’d never do with her because he’d want her to want it just as much as him.

  Like that kiss at D’s wedding a little over a year ago.

  It wasn’t a simple kiss. It was like they were trying to absorb each other. Neither wanting it to end until...

  He shouldn’t even be letting his thoughts go there.

  Because it was dangerous.

  Not for her.

  For him.

  Not only because he’d get his dick severed off and shoved down his throat before dying a slow torturous death, but because he had a feeling once he had a real taste of her—more than a kiss—he’d be done. And giving her up would just about be impossible.

  But he’d have no choice. She’d want things he couldn’t give her.

  He’d lived a life, hers was only beginning.

  There were things a woman in her twenties would want, if not now, eventually.

  This was a good reminder of her age. And his, too.

  He was close to the same age as her father. His oldest kid was just a year younger than her.

  Christ. “How old are you now?”

  “You know exactly how old I am. You’ve watched me for years. I’ve watched you, too.”

  I’ve watched you, too.

  He knew that. He’d felt her eyes on him. In the beginning, he tried to ignore it. Just a teen with a crush, maybe. As she got older, he chalked it up to it turning to lust.

  Or maybe wanting someone who was forbidden. A taboo idea to get her blood rushing.

  But then there was the kiss...

  That fucking kiss...

  Something so goddamn simple. Something he’d done a million damn times.

  Why had it been any different?

  Why had it been so fucking hard to push her away? To gather his shit, to recognize at the time it was a mistake.

  Something they both needed to forget.

  But he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t forgotten.

  “Magnum.” His name on her breath stoked the fire in his gut.

  “Just as much a biker as your father. You don’t want ‘em knowin’ Dawg’s a biker for whatever reason.” He knew the reason. “I’m no different, Caitie. Not gonna change for no one.”

  He wasn’t changing for anyone. That’s why he lost his ol’ lady a few years back. She kept demanding something he wasn’t willing to give her.

  She’d finally had enough and split.

  The same would happen with Cait.

  She had one toe dipped in the life and another whole foot planted outside of it. If it wasn’t for her DNA, she never would’ve gotten involved with the MC life in the first place.

  But DAMC blood ran through her veins, so she was pulled into it—even against her mother and stepfather’s wishes. Even with her parents fighting hard against it, and even though she wasn’t born into it, the club embraced Cait as soon as Dawg discovered he had a daughter, even almost fifteen years after she took her first breath.

  Cait never shied away from it and embraced it as much as she could while managing to hold on to both worlds.

  Again—age difference aside—those two worlds were why his thoughts were dangerous. Why what he wanted to do with her in the Camry was fucking stupid.

  “Magnum,” she breathed.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers fisting tightly in her hair.

  She was the daughter of an ally.

  A fucking daughter of an ally.

  One his club couldn’t lose.

  They might forgive him for protecting their property but not for stealing it.

  He uncurled his fingers and sat back, opening his eyes, seeing the reality of his current situation. Her cheeks a dark pink, her eyes holding a fire that could scald him.

  And the outline of her goddamn nipples against that smooth fabric.

  His fingers itched to touch them. Even if it was only a light brush to test how hard those tips were. To see how he affected her. To let her know she affected him the same way. He turned away from her and curled them around the steering wheel instead.

  He needed to get the fuck out of her cage, and he needed to do it now. “When’s the retreat?”

  A burn started deep in his gut with the thought of being with Cait somewhere outside of DAMC and DKMC territory. While he was capable of protecting her himself, she didn’t belong to him.

  “We leave Sunday, since it’s about an eight-hour drive without stopping.”

  Fuck. That was only a few days away. He gritted his teeth at the thought of what he was getting into. “When’s it over?”

 
“I think Saturday after breakfast, but a lot of people are staying until Sunday morning as a mini get-away with their significant others, since children aren’t allowed during this trip.”

  Significant others. “Means we’re sharin’ a room.”

  Since he wasn’t looking at her—no, he was fucking staring straight out of the windshield still trying to avoid temptation—he heard her reaction to his words rather than saw it.

  “I... It’s...”

  “Gonna hafta work,” he finished the sentence for her. He ground his molars together, already not looking forward to making it actually fucking work. It might be the second hardest thing he had to do in his life.

  The first one was the day he finally gave up the fight for his kids. When he had no choice but to walk away or face more jail time by breaking the Protection from Abuse order.

  That day fucking killed him.

  That day was the darkest day in his goddamn life.

  He wouldn’t go through that shit again. He would not have his own blood ripped from him, taken against his will, and then poisoned against him with lies.

  Never fucking again.

  Cait squeezing his thigh had him shoving the door open and scrambling out of the cage, almost cracking his head on the door jamb.

  Once he was out of the vehicle and sucking in air that did not smell of Cait, he leaned into the open doorway. “Sunday. Dirty Dick’s. Takin’ your cage.”

  She pinned her lips together and reached for the passenger door handle.

  “And Caitie...”

  She glanced back at him.

  “I’m drivin’.”

  Chapter Four

  With his fingers fisted in Cait’s hair, the pull against her scalp sent a shiver through her, making her already aching nipples pebble even harder.

  His lips claimed hers, his tongue took control. She couldn’t get enough of his deep grunts with each even deeper thrust. Her fingers dug into his ass as the muscles bunched and flexed, his knees buried in her bed as he drove fast and hard. Filling her, stretching her.

  She lifted her hips with each thrust as much as she could with him pinning her to the bed, a crushing weight she welcomed.

  This was what she wanted. Him to claim her. The same as she wanted that day in a hidden corner of the commercial kitchen that divided the DAMC’s church and The Iron Horse Roadhouse. That moment they both allowed themselves a taste of what they both desired but avoided.