Love, Loyalty & Mayhem: A Motorcycle Club Romance Anthology

by Ryan Michele

  Damn. It shouldn’t surprise me, but she’s sweet and patient with everyone who comes up to her.

  Finally, she’s free and she heads straight for the bar. As soon as she sees me, she slows her steps. Her eyes widen. Her jaw drops.

  “Rooster? What’re you doing here?” The hesitation vanishes and she grins wide, running over and flinging her arms around my neck. I catch her and lean down to kiss her.

  “You’re something else.” I press my forehead to hers and lower my voice. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  She shrugs and signals the bartender to bring her some water.

  “Shelby?” I prod.

  “Can we talk about it later? I have to do another set.” She swoops in and kisses my cheek. “I’m real happy to see ya, though.”

  I turn and introduce her to Heidi and Murphy. “Sparky and Ravage are around here somewhere.” I point to Jigsaw. “You remember this clown.”

  “Hi, Jigsaw.”

  Heidi gushes over Shelby’s performance and the two girls seem to hit it off. Murphy glances at me and shrugs. While she’s invested in her conversation with Heidi, Shelby’s butt rests against my thigh, her fingers laced with mine. Like the pervy fucker I am, I spend some time enjoying the view down the front of her dress.

  The guitar player makes his way over and throws a dark scowl at Shelby when he notices her ass in my lap.

  “Shelby? Who are your friends?” he asks without acknowledging me.

  Murphy’s mouth twists in an are-we-killing-this-disrespectful-punk sort of way. I give him a subtle head shake. Not yet.

  “Oh! Trent. This is my friend, Rooster.”

  Friend. Huh.

  I’m busy mulling over how I feel about friend while she introduces Murphy and Heidi. When there’s a lull in the conversation, I squeeze her hip and brush my lips against her ear. “I think I’m a lil’ more than your friend, sugar.”

  She leans back and gives me a sultry look before whispering in my ear. “Did you want me to introduce you as my fuck-buddy?”

  “No,” I growl.

  She pulls back and turns to stare at me.

  “Never mind.” I flash a smile at her. “I’m just messing with you. You’re a pretty damn good singer.” Fuck, that’s inadequate.

  “Thanks. It’s been a crazy year. I play some of my own, original stuff during the next set.”

  “None of that was yours?”

  “No, silly.” She scrunches up her nose. “You don’t listen to country, do you?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Not insulted, she laughs and slaps my chest.

  Fuck, I want her under me again tonight.

  14

  Shelby

  Dang. Rooster has me rattled right down to my bones.

  Never in a million years did I expect him to remember what the cops said and come find me here tonight.

  The sexy, confident way he was leaning back on the bar with both elbows, facing me left me breathless. Then it sunk in, he came here to see me. Specifically, for me. He didn’t drop in to a random bar for a drink and run into me accidentally. He wanted to see me again.

  I end up rubbing up against him like a horny little kitten, wondering if it will be totally detrimental to my career if I take him in the storage room and…

  “Shelby, let’s go!” Trent shouts.

  “Are you staying?” I ask Rooster.

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  He gives me a quick kiss for luck and a gentle shove into the crowd.

  Knowing he’s out there watching—with his friends no less—leaves me jittery. Trent nudges my arm as I step on stage.

  “You okay?” he mouths.

  “I’m fine.”

  “That your new boyfriend?”

  “Sort of.”

  He grunts and turns around, giving me his back.

  Whatever.

  The lights go down and the music kicks in. Everything else seems to melt away and it’s just me and the music for the next thirty minutes. This is where I’m happiest. Doesn’t matter that it’s a dumpy little bar in Texas. Or a huge stage in front of a television audience. The throb of the music lights me up inside and I thrive on sharing beautiful words with the strangers filling the bar.

  Even as a little girl, music touched me emotionally in a way simple words never could. Music has always given me a way to express the things I shouldn’t say but couldn’t keep quiet about.

  As silly as it sounds Redneck Roadhouse Star had been a dream come true. It had been a complete eye-opener and left me cynical at times too. But I poured those disappointments and hurts into my music, giving it a jaded quality it lacked before the show.

  Every cloud has a glitter lining.

  Sure, lots of people mocked me on the online gossip sites. Everyone thought I was dimmer than a dying light bulb. People commented and criticized my weight so many times I still couldn’t eat food in public for fear of an unflattering photo showing up somewhere.

  All the scrutiny eased up a little once I came home. I hadn’t made it to the end of the show, or won the big prize, but I’d gotten enough attention to win an opening spot on a major tour. I planned to make the best of it. Ride it out as long as I can and pray like hell I make it to the top.

  People seemed to assume I was rolling in money, but the show barely replaced the wages I lost from leaving my job for so long. I wouldn’t make any money until I started touring and even then, it would be pennies at first.

  We finished Big Lies. It was probably my favorite of the new songs I’d written since I came home.

  “Good job!” Trent shouted as the lights died down.

  “It was a good one, right?” I laughed and hugged him, allowing him to give me a quick spin around the stage.

  People rushed up and pushed to get closer to the stage. The simple barrier the club used to keep some space between the floor and the stage wasn’t strong enough to keep them back.

  “Shelby! I love you!” A kid close to my age shouted. He shoved something in my face, and I backed away so quick, I tripped, landing hard on my ass. Maybe they didn’t know I was on the floor or maybe they didn’t care, but the crowd kept coming, A sea of boots and jeans threatened to drown me. Or stomp me to death.

  I pushed and shoved, trying to right myself, but kept getting knocked right back down.

  The guy who’d startled me bent down, to help me. But, instead of helping, he runs his hands up my bare legs and under my dress.

  “Get off me!” I pull back and kick him square in the chest with both boots. “Fucker.”

  Suddenly, the crowd parts. The guy who touched me is airborne. He lands on a nearby table with a crash.

  “Motherfucker!”

  I recognize that rage-filled, growly voice.

  “Rooster!”

  He peers down and plucks me off the ground. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I wrap my arms around his neck and cling to him. Now that I know I’m safe, the fear evaporates but leaves my entire body shaking.

  And I have no doubt I’m safe. Murphy and Jigsaw are busy throwing punches at a couple of frat boys who kept trying to take pictures up my dress during the show. Sparky and another biker wearing the same patches as Rooster’s are shoving people out of Rooster’s way.

  Heidi’s sitting cross-legged on top of the bar, holding what I’m pretty sure is a ballpeen hammer in her hands. She grins when she sees me but stays put. Rooster sets me on the bar next to her.

  “You all right?” He shouts.

  “Yeah.” My mouth twists. “Shit. My mic is on stage. It’s actually mine. Not the bar’s. It cost me a fortune.”

  “I’ll get it.” His gaze swings to Heidi. “Stay with Heidi.”

  “Okay.” I tug his hand before he returns to the mayhem of the crowded bar. “Thank you.”

  “You got it. Stay here,” he reminds me.

  Heidi wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You’re amazing! Your voice is beautiful.” She reaches behind her and hand
s me a bottle of water. “Bet you’re parched.”

  “Yeah.” I take a long swallow before capping it and setting it next to me.

  “Girl, this is wild,” Heidi says. “Happen every night?”

  “Not this bad.” I glance at the hammer in her hands. “Planning to do some remodeling?”

  She gives me a sly grin. “Murphy set me on the bar, gave me the hammer, and told me to stay put. Anyone who bothers me is getting bopped on the head.” She taps the air with the hammer to demonstrate.

  “Aren’t you tougher than a pine knot,” I mutter impressed that none of this seems to ruffle her feathers. And that her boyfriend apparently doesn’t leave home without a hammer to use as a weapon in case they encounter a little mayhem.

  “He wanted to stay with me.” Heidi waves her hands at the stage. “But I’m fine. Looked like you needed the help.”

  “Yeah.” I glance around for our bartender, Sherry, but she’s nowhere to be found. “Shit, Sherry’s probably calling the cops.”

  Heidi gracefully stands on top of the bar and whistles an ear-splitting sound to get Murphy’s attention. She makes a few hand signals that must be code for “Cops!” and he taps Jigsaw’s shoulder. The five bikers slowly back out of the chaos and find us at the bar.

  Sherry finally reappears.

  With a shotgun in her hands.

  She aims at the ceiling and fires. A deafening blast that quiets everyone. Chunks of wood spray down over the center of the bar.

  Rooster slips his arm around me. “Where was she ten minutes ago?” he mutters.

  I can’t help it. Maybe it’s the fear or adrenaline, but I press my palms against his face and yank him down for a kiss.

  “Thank you,” I whisper against his lips.

  “Thank me later when I get you out of here before the cops show up.” He pulls back a few inches. “You’re trouble, little darlin’.”

  He’s teasing, but I melt against him anyway. In his arms, I know I’m safe.

  He eyes Sherry who’s still holding the shotgun. “I think she’s got it under control.” He turns to his brothers. “Let’s go.”

  15

  Rooster

  What a night.

  But I got what I came for.

  My girl on the back of my bike headed toward the clubhouse.

  After the shitshow at the Tipsy Saddle, I figured surrounded by dozens of bikers is where she’d be safest tonight. Not that I’ll let her wander far from my sight.

  We stopped at her house to drop off her mom’s car and she ran in to pack a bag, leaving a note for her mom.

  I turn up the long, dirt driveway and pass the iron gates into the main property. People are everywhere. Drunk and stumbling. Doing hell knows what in the woods. I back the bike into one of the spots reserved for our club and shut it down.

  Murphy and Heidi are already here and wave to us from their spot by the fire. They’d headed back here right after leaving the Tipsy Saddle.

  “Oh! Heidi has a leather vest like yours,” Shelby says. She hesitates and studies the patches a little closer. “Property of Murphy? What the—”

  “It’s club tradition,” I cut her off before she says something that will sour this whole night. “An honor. Means as much if not more than that ring on her finger. Heidi’s proud to wear her patch and it lets everyone here know who she belongs to.”

  She seems to take a second to digest my words. “I guess when you put it that way, it’s kind of romantic.” She glances down at her jeans, T-shirt, and boots. “Am I okay here?”

  “You’re with me, babe.” I sling my arm over her shoulders and steer her toward the fire.

  She stops and raises her eyebrows. “You don’t want to…”

  So, she assumed I only brought her here to fuck her. “You mind hanging out for a bit?”

  “No, not at all.”

  I lean down and kiss her neck, tease her earlobe with my tongue. “Sugar, don’t you worry. I’m plannin’ to ride you hard until the sun comes up.”

  “That right?”

  “Fuck yeah. First, I want to introduce you to a few of my brothers.” I laugh when I see who’s joined the crowd tonight. “What dragged you out here, Wrath?”

  He points his bottle of beer at Murphy. “He did.”

  The beautiful blonde tucked close to Wrath’s side laughs. “Heidi said you were bringing Shelby Morgan back with you and I wanted to say hi.”

  I pull Shelby forward and introduce her to Trinity. Heidi joins them and they pepper Shelby with questions about her time on that show.

  I shrug and snag a spot on the blanket next to Murphy. “Teller come down?”

  “Nah, he’s watching Alexa for us. Watching Grace too.” He glances around. “Rock and Hope were down here but they disappeared into the woods a couple minutes ago.”

  That doesn’t exactly surprise me.

  Planning to disappear with Shelby soon myself.

  Except, I kind of like her hanging out with the old ladies from my club. Doesn’t seem like she has a lot of fun in her life. Works damn hard.

  Eventually, I pull her into my lap, and she rests her head on my shoulder.

  I brush her hair off her face and run my fingers through it. “Tired?”

  “Little bit.”

  “Had a long day.”

  She picks up her head and gives me a sexy smile. “And not much sleep.”

  “You play there every week?”

  “I used to. A producer from Roadhouse saw me and asked me to audition for the show.”

  “How long you been singing?”

  She tips her head back and stares at the stars for a few minutes. Texas hill country nights have been gorgeous. The heat fades as the sun sets and the scent of wildflowers still clings to the cooler air. Perfect night for stargazing, but all I can look at is Shelby.

  “Long as I can remember,” she finally answers.

  “Your voice is beautiful.”

  “You don’t even like country music.”

  “I like your music.”

  She turns and shifts in my lap. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “Sugar, one thing you should know about me, I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”

  “I see that about you, Logan.” She shifts again, straddling my lap, knees hugging my hips.

  “Like it when you say my name.”

  She leans in and kisses my cheek and over to my ear. Sinks her teeth into my earlobe sending zaps of electricity down my spine. “Thank you for coming to see me tonight.”

  I run my hands up and down her legs. “Really wish I hadn’t let you change out of that sexy dress.”

  Her hot breath skims over my cheek. “What would you do right now?”

  Keeping my hands on her ass, I sit forward, pressing her against my erection. “I’d stroke that pretty little clit of yours until you were wet and begging for my cock.”

  Her eyes sparkle with desire, but I’m not done talking to her yet. I groan and can’t believe I’m going to steer this conversation away from getting my dick inside her. “So, tell me, you were on this show. What happened?”

  She tilts her head as if she’s surprised I care more about information than fucking. Can’t blame her, I’m surprised myself.

  “Well, I didn’t win, but I made it far enough for a jump start.”

  “Like?”

  “I have a few singles up for digital download now. A tour coming up with Dawson Roads.”

  “Now, that name I recognize.”

  She laughs and loops her arms around my neck. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “When’s that happening?”

  “In a couple weeks. That’s why I’m doing rehearsals every morning. Playing when I can.” She bites her bottom lip. “There are a few dates of the tour in New York.”

  Damn, why does my heart pound even faster when she says that? I pull her closer and brush my lips against hers. “That so?”

  She nods slowly.

  “Think I can still get tickets
?”

  Her eyes widen. “You’d want to?”

  “Fuck yeah. Why are you so surprised?”

  She shrugs and looks away. “I’m not dumb, Rooster. A year or two from now, you probably won’t remember my name.”

  I move my hand to the back of her head and pull her close. “You have no idea how wrong you are. I’ll never forget you, Shelby.”

  “I won’t forget you either. You’ve rescued me twice now.”

  “Happy to do it.” I rub my thumb over her cheek. “I’m gonna need front row tickets and a backstage pass.”

  She reaches down and squeezes my cock through my jeans. “You’ll always have an all-access pass, Logan.”

  If you’d like to know more about the Lost Kings MC…

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  Voodoo Vows by Avelyn Paige

  1

  Voodoo

  “Are you sure about this?” Presley’s smooth, sultry voice calls out from the closet of our bedroom.

  "The answer hasn't changed, babe. It's still a yes.”

  She sashays from the doorframe with a few articles of clothing, filling her arms. One of the tops, spills to the ground, and Presley grimaces at it. I take a few steps towards her, bend down, and retrieve it, tossing it onto the bed. “Thanks,” she mutters, as she passes me.

  I quietly observe, as she flits and flutters from one end of our room to the other, stuffing more random shit into her suitcase, like we’re taking a month-long trip versus just a few days. I know all about the stigma of women overpacking, but this? Total overkill. My girl is nervous, and despite the fact that she’s been trying to hide it, she’s failing hard. Like George Clooney, as Batman level failure, and don’t even get me started on the piss poor casting.