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Broken Deeds MC: Second Generation #1

Page 4

by Esther E. Schmidt


  I let my mind go over different questions to trigger a new lead. Who would benefit from killing criminals? Cops for sure because it creates safer streets. New upcoming criminals who would fight their way up. I did read an article about a new mafia boss getting arrested, maybe that’s the reason why the murders stopped for a few months.

  Taking my coffee into the living room, I open my laptop again and wait for it to boot up. Searching articles, I come across several other headlines that snag my attention. One is about a neighborhood watch, forming patrols to take actions against the recent wave of burglaries. And there’s another one about a man preventing people getting mugged. Same guy, twice in one week.

  “I’m surprised he doesn’t wear a superhero cape,” I mutter to myself.

  There aren’t many who would step in and face a criminal with a knife or a gun in their hand. You never know, a situation can escalate within a single second. The front door swings open and Archer steps inside.

  “Hey. I’m only grabbing my wallet, we’re going to grab a bite to eat before I have to ink a client.” His eyes go to the playpen. “Where’s Queenie?”

  “My parents wanted to spend some more time with her, she’s staying the night.”

  The grin sliding over his face is so damn tempting. “Are you busy or do you want to go for a ride and wait at the shop while I work?”

  “Give me one minute,” I tell him and rush up the stairs.

  I quickly slide on a new shirt, fix my hair, and check if the light makeup I added a few hours ago is still perfect. Grabbing my backpack, I head downstairs and shove my purse and laptop in there.

  “Ready.”

  He steps closer and brushes his lips against mine. “It’s been way too fucking long since we did this…us. Fuck. You wouldn’t believe how much I look forward to tonight but having you on the back of my bike now? Grabbing something to eat and joining me at the shop? Damn. It almost sounds like a date.” He sighs in contentment.

  “Take me for a ride, Archer,” I murmur, getting hot from a mere kiss and the promise for more.

  His hands grab my ass, fingers spread out and holding me in place while he deepens the kiss. I’m ready to strip naked right now but Wyatt is bellowing his name, making Archer end the kiss. He snatches my wrist and leads me out of the house, locking up before we head for his bike.

  Ever since Queenie was born, we’ve been taking the SUV or I’m walking to and from the clubhouse while Archer rides his bike wherever he needs to be. Change is always in the air, even if you’re one person but being together or having a family? There are a lot of compromises, keeping your chin up, and muddling through until things somewhat settle. And they might never settle completely but that’s also the acceptance part in life.

  And being on the back of Archer’s bike with my arms wrapped around him, feeling the wind whip around us, is breathing in a fragment of what we had before Queenie was born. The part where our roots lie and basically the foundation of our love. The MC. Family. Brotherhood.

  The ride is way too short and when we eventually stroll into the tattoo shop, I’m welcomed by a surprised Hadley. She’s Depay’s daughter and another tattoo artist since the shop is run by either bikers of Broken Deeds MC, or in Hadley’s case, kids of the first generation.

  Hadley is deaf but can read lips flawlessly. Some of the clients don’t even notice her lack of hearing and rave how she’s a great listener. Hadley always has her sketches and appointments on point and only has to motion her clients into her room before she starts without the need to utter a single word.

  She jumps out from behind the counter and throws her arms around me. Pulling back, she signs, “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, and this place,” I tell her, her smile bright as she reads my lips.

  Most of the Broken Deeds MC have learned to sign or at least know some basics to understand her when needed. It was to make sure there was normality for Hadley when she was growing up. It shows the love and devotion how an MC adjusts even for a child of one of the brothers. And even now when she’s all grown up and still part of the MC in some way.

  Archer gently takes my chin and turns my face toward his to give me a kiss on my lips. “I’ll leave you with Hadley. I have to get things set and if I’m correct Hadley’s next appointment is in about an hour. Come find me or watch her work and I’ll come find you when I’m done, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh in contentment.

  His husky chuckle flows over my lips before I get another slow kiss until his mouth completely leaves mine. I’m still staring at my husband walking away when I feel someone smack my arm. I connect my gaze with Hadley who rolls her eyes. Her hand flies through the air and now it’s time for me to roll my eyes.

  With what she just signed? My only response to her is, “Wait till you find the right man, Hadley. You might not always have moments to swoon. There will be times where you want to cut off his head and boil it to serve his friends soup from his stupid brain. A relationship tests your restraint and ability to compromise and grow together. And when you’ve found the right person, you create a strong bond between loved ones who always have the will to go on.”

  Hadley’s eyes close as she lets her hands go through her black with purple highlighted hair, snagging the band off her wrist to tie it into a messy bun on the top of her head.

  When she’s done she glances at me and snaps with a monotone voice, “No.”

  Shit. Diamond–her stepmother–told me how Hadley had sworn off all men after one date with an asshole who she had a crush on. No one knows what happened on that date but since that day she might have mentioned something about becoming a fish person.

  A different variation from a cat person. Hadley likes her goldfish. She lives above the shop here and hardly ever leaves the building. It’s why we don’t meet as much since I’m always either at home or the clubhouse. I used to join Archer at the shop before we had Queenie, but things most definitely changed since her birth.

  It’s only been a few months but it sure feels like a lifetime. I make a promise to myself to swing by more often. I follow Hadley into her room where she cleans her chair in silence before grabbing her notebook to start sketching.

  Enthralled I watch how she designs a geometric jellyfish. Curvy lines, the tentacles flowing everywhere until they all end up underneath a big head. Kinda like all the cases I went over this morning. The tentacles being all the separate murders until all lives come to an end with a bullet. They move on their own and yet it’s all connected by a hard line.

  Wavy ends as were their lives until they all come together. Their rap sheet, though some claimed to be innocent of the last crime they were linked to. And yet the DNA evidence, tying them to the case, was a hard fact to deny their innocence. I know they weren’t all arrested by the same cop, nothing is bringing those leads to a center point.

  Maybe I need to check their rap sheets again, go over the process of their arrest and the case the cops had. Every single victim was a criminal, that has to mean something. Hadley looks up and I give her a smile and a finger wave as I grab my backpack and leave her room to take a seat in the back of the waiting room.

  Taking out my laptop, I wait for it to fire up before I check for police stations, distractions, labs working with DNA evidence, everything that might give me a lead.

  “You hacked into the police database? Because for sure as fuck I didn’t give you any access,” Archer remarks from beside me.

  I grab hold of my laptop and drag it awkwardly against my chest while I grumble, “Do you have to scare the crap out of me?”

  “I’ve been sitting here for almost ten minutes watching your fingers dance across the keyboard, waiting till you finish your search or take a breathing pause, notice me, whatever…but you’re so engrossed, you just kept going.”

  I shoot him a glare. “That’s because I almost have a link but I’m not certain yet. Do you think I can make a few calls to relatives of the victims?”

  His mouth t
urns into a flat line. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want you talking to criminals and those related to them and exposing yourself. You’re high risk with being the president’s old lady, adding the fact that you now also work cases increases said risks.”

  “Then why ask for my help if you set limitations? And you do know a few calls wouldn’t expose me, right? I could easily use another name to cover my ass,” I snap and shut down my laptop before I shove it into my backpack and stand. “Are you done here? I’d like to go home.”

  “Fine,” he snaps back and directs his attention to Baton. “I’m heading home, are you closing up?”

  “Will do, Prez,” Baton says as Archer places a hand on my lower back and guides me out of the shop and to his bike.

  This time I don’t enjoy riding on the back of his bike. I’m annoyed, though I understand his need to keep me–and our daughter–safe and out of the part of solving cases. This because it might attract attention of people with bad intentions if I start poking around in lives wrapped with danger.

  But still, why the hell ask me to help? Is he having doubts and regrets about me and my abilities? Maybe that’s it. Or the fact I didn’t exactly follow their official protocol since he caught me hacking into the system instead of asking him for access. Whatever. He can do everything himself; he’s good at handling and pulling everything to himself.

  I dash off the bike as soon as he’s parked and grab the keys to open the door to our house. Placing my backpack in the hallway, I throw my keys on the little shelf next to the coat rack, kick off my shoes, and head upstairs. Screw him.

  “Bee, wait,” Archer says, frustration lacing his words.

  “Shove it, Prez,” I sneer. “We’re home, you made yourself clear and all I want now is a hot shower.”

  “What the fuck, Bee?” Archer growls.

  I stomp up the stairs and get out of the discussion. I don’t even know why I’m this angry or why I’m taking this so hard. To be honest? I don’t even care. It was a nice distraction while it lasted. Now it’s time to take a shower, put on some sweats, grab a good book, and enjoy what’s left of my evening before morning comes way too soon.

  Another day to spend with my daughter and also my appointment with my mother to shop for some new clothes. Though, I don’t have any interest in feeling pretty or so much as dressing up. Instead of helping the MC I might look into volunteering again; visiting elderly people. At least I could take Queenie with me, she always manages to give elderly people a smile. Volunteering always made me feel good about myself, and it’s something I really need back.

  I close the bathroom door behind me and shut the outside world out along with it. I turn on the water so it can heat up and start to step out of my jeans while my mind is going over the books I have on my to read list. My brain needs an escape from reality, that’s for damn sure.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  – ARCHER –

  Holy shit. All the anger and frustration drain from my body and it’s replaced by instant lust the second I open the door to the bathroom. The visual before me has my dick aching and my heart leaping.

  Bee is bent over, shoving her jeans down to her ankles and her ass is facing me. A hidden by bright pink lace pussy on show. I want nothing more than to fall to my knees and bury my face between her legs to inhale the sweetness I know her body possesses.

  But I know for damn sure in this moment I can’t give in to shoving my dick where it belongs. This woman before me isn’t a mere fuck; she’s my woman. Getting off isn’t a priority, but ironing out feelings, disagreements, and misunderstandings are. And then we’ll get to the hot loving part.

  Regretfully, I swallow down my lust and try to get my body under control as I soften my voice and tell her, “I’ll give you the access when you get behind your laptop again. We can go over what you found, if you still want to work with me on this. If not, I’ll ask for one of the brothers to assist you, okay?”

  Her cheeks are flushed when she jolts upright and turns to face me.

  “Okay,” she mutters and grabs her jeans off the floor to throw them into the hamper.

  She grips the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head to let it fall into the hamper as well.

  Glaring she says, somewhat agitated, “Do you mind? I’d like to take a shower.”

  “I don’t mind at all.” A smirk slides on my face as I lean against the wall.

  I let my gaze lazily slide over her curves and sexy lingerie. My wife is a fucking stunner, and it’s been way too damn long since I’ve had her underneath me. Hard to imagine since we’ve been sleeping in one bed ever since we spilled our feelings and continued life together well over a year ago. But having a baby and living itself does interrupt and rearrange normality.

  She huffs and strips away the bright pink lace that was covering her pussy and magnificent tits. I know there’s a big fucking difference between men and women. The mention of tits and pussy states the obvious, but it’s the whole brain function where the difference lies.

  For instance, I’m good with what we just discussed; no hard feelings. But my woman? She’s still pissed. She’ll think shit over for hours–if not days. It just shows the complexity and it’s also the reason why I wanted her to get stuck into the case that had been Galen’s obsession before he died, and my burden since I haven’t been able to close it on my own either.

  “Close the door on your way out, Archer. I don’t like the draft when I’m taking a shower.”

  I lean forward and close the door, keeping myself right where I am; inside the bathroom along with her. I love my woman’s fire. Even when we were kids–during one of the many barbecues either of our parents’ MC organized–she’d catch my attention. Always fierce with games or meddling between arguments of other kids.

  She’s not one to sit back and keep quiet; she takes action and isn’t afraid to voice her opinion. But in this case she’s the silent one while giving me a glare to let me know she’s stewing shit over in her head.

  I take off my cut, fold it up, and place it on the cabinet in the corner. Discarding the rest of my clothes I join my woman in the large shower. Thank fuck I placed a large rain shower in here when we built this house, allowing the both of us to be surrounded with hot water.

  Stepping closer, I let my hands roam over her hips before pulling her back against my front, my cock deliciously nestling against her ass. My lean body against her softness; perfection in all ways. She can still be pissed at me but her body craves my touch as mine lights up with the pleasure of hers.

  I nuzzle her neck and let one of my hands slide up to cup, and knead, her breast. The moan mixing with the steam heats the room while our bodies boil over with lust. I might not even last and spill my cum all over her ass; it’s been too long since I’ve been inside her.

  I tweak her nipple and my name rolls over her tongue in a plea for more. She’s always been responsive, either to my hands, mouth, dick…greedy and demanding; she’s my own slice of paradise and knows exactly how to satisfy a man like me.

  “I love you,” I whisper right next to her ear.

  “Show me, Arch. Please, it’s been so long.”

  Dammit all to hell. How is that not a kick in the balls when you have the perfect woman but you’re a dick to neglect the most important things in life? My head has been so damn busy with running the MC, the shop, our young family…life. While this woman has stood by my side without giving a single complaint and now this plea?

  I spin her around in my arms and slam my mouth over hers while I press her body against the tiles. Grabbing her ass, I easily take her weight to cage her in and open her up to take my dick. Her legs wrap around me, nails sliding over my back to urge me on.

  My dick easily finds her wet slit as the head already gets sucked in. I swirl my tongue around hers, tasting, thrusting, dominating; letting her know exactly what my dick is going to do with her pussy. Yet my dick is slowly seeking entrance with dragging thrusts.

  She’s so d
amn tight. It’s been too long since we had sex and I don’t want to hurt her or make her too sore because I intend to make more damn time to worship her the way we consumed one another the day we started our lives together.

  Once I’m fully lodged inside, I rip my mouth from hers and bury my head into the crook of her neck. I need a moment to breathe through the pleasure flowing through every cell in my body. Her pussy clenches and a rumble of approval flows through my chest.

  “Fuck me, Arch…what are you waiting for?” she taunts and this woman knows exactly how to push me.

  I’m like putty in her hands because in all seriousness, her hands are perfection and every single caress is hotwiring my body; lust mixed with love and pleasure.

  “I’m waiting for reality to come crashing in, darlin’. Something feeling as magnificent as your pussy squeezing the life out of my cock only happens in dreams.” I drag my dick slowly out of her body. “Now, I might be ready…but I don’t think you are,” I taunt in return and slam back inside her.

  My hips start a rhythm where I know for damn sure I’ll feel my sore muscles for three days straight but this feels too damn good. Her head is buried in the crook of my neck, lips sliding over my skin, teeth nipping, nails dragging, mewls flowing. One, all, there isn’t a single thing not wrapped or caused by our pleasure.

  “Archer,” she gasps and manages to turn my name into a needy moan.

  “I’m right here with you,” I grunt.

  I grip her lush ass harder to keep her in place while my dick pistons inside her as if our lives depend on it. And they do because my heart is running at full speed to keep up with hers as her pussy starts to spasm around me, ripping the orgasm straight from my balls as I bellow her name in utter bliss.

  My knees give way and I have no other option but to slide to the ground and keep her pinned to me, making her straddle my lap. We’re a heap of entwined flesh and bones but the love pounding strong is what binds our bodies together.

 

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