Love, Loyalty & Mayhem: A Motorcycle Club Romance Anthology

by Ryan Michele

  “Take your time.” Gus stepped inside my apartment and took a quick look around. “You’ve got a nice place.”

  “Thanks.” I grabbed my purse and jacket off the sofa, then walked back over to him. “I’m ready when you are.”

  His expression grew soft as he said, “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you. You look really nice too.”

  Once we were downstairs and I spotted his shiny, big, black motorcycle parked next to the curb, I started to feel a little apprehensive. Sensing my unease, Gus stepped towards me and smiled. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing to it.”

  Minutes later, my arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, and we were weaving in and out of traffic. To my surprise, I actually loved being on the back of his bike, feeling the wind in my face and hearing the sounds of the city roaring in my ears. It didn’t hurt that it gave me an excuse to be close to Gus. I loved his scent—a hint of cologne mixed with leather and smoke, and he appeared to be so confident and self-assured. It made me feel safe, like he was in complete control, and I was just there to enjoy the ride.

  Just as we were leaving the city limits, Gus started driving down an old side road that led up to a small, crowded café. As we got off the bike and started inside, he smiled and said, “I know it doesn’t look like much, but they have incredible burgers.”

  “Great. I can’t wait to try one.” He opened the front door and waited as I walked in ahead of him. As soon as I smelled the delectable scent of home-cooking, I immediately understood why the place was so packed. Gus reached for my hand and led me over to one of the empty booths in the back. Once we were seated, I told him, “It smells incredible.”

  “It tastes even better.” He took a quick glance around, studying the old rustic farm equipment and photographs on the walls. “The club’s going to open up a diner like this close to Beale Street, but instead of the Old South, ours will have a Memphis blues theme to it.”

  I was about to ask what he was talking about when the waitress came over to take our order. After handing it in to the kitchen, she returned with our tea and placed them on the table. I said to Gus, “I’m not sure I know what you mean by ‘the club.’”

  “Yeah. I guess I should take a minute to explain that.” For the next half hour, he explained how the club was much more than a group of men who rode motorcycles and worked together, and that they were a family who lived and died for each other. I’d heard of clubs like his and knew some were decent, while others were bad, really bad, but I’d never actually met anyone who belonged to one, much less ran one. I didn’t know what it meant to be a president of an MC, but it was clear that Gus took great pride in his position. He practically beamed as he told me how he’d been sent to Memphis to start up this new chapter of Satan’s Fury, describing all the progress they’d made. “The clubhouse is almost done, so now we can start moving in there and focus on getting the restaurant up and going.”

  “That sounds like a lot of work.”

  “It is, but it’ll be worth it when we’re finished.” He took a sip of his drink before asking, “What about you? What’s your story?”

  “My story isn’t nearly as exciting as yours,” I admitted. “I grew up here in Memphis. I recently graduated from U of M, and now I’m interning at MBC Pharmaceuticals. I’m hoping to start working for them full time this summer.”

  “And your family?”

  “I have one older brother, Thomas. He lives in South Carolina now, so I don’t get to see him very often. And my parents … they can be a little much at times.”

  “How so?”

  I didn’t want to bore Gus with all the petty details of my controlled life, so I simply said, “Let’s just say, my father is in politics, and my mother does her best to portray herself as the perfect, doting wife. She’s quite the little socialite. Always doing community service projects and rubbing noses with the city’s finest. You know how it is.”

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t.” He smiled as he used my own words against me. “But it sounds like a lot of work.”

  “Yes, it is.” I rolled my eyes, then continued, “Life under the microscope is definitely not for the faint of heart. It’s one of the reasons why I decided to go into a completely different line of work.”

  “Can’t say I blame you there.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “Since you grew up in the area, maybe you could give me some insight to a few things?”

  “Such as?”

  “Okay. What’s with all the bottles in the trees?”

  “Oh, that’s an old southern tradition. My grandmother once told me that people used to hang them to ward off evil spirits. They’d say that the spirits would be attracted to the sound of the bottles clinking together and end up getting trapped inside.”

  “Hmm. Not at all what I thought.” He paused for a minute, then said, “I think I’m getting the hang of some of the southern phrases, like ‘fixin’, over yonder, and blowin’ up a storm,’ but there’s one I’m still not sure about.”

  “Which one?”

  “When women say ‘bless your heart.’ That has more than one meaning, right?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I answered, “Yes. It has all kinds of meanings. It just depends on the situation.”

  “Not sure I’m following ya.”

  “Okay. It can be used to show genuine concern, like ‘I’m so sorry to hear you aren’t feeling well, and you have a fever too? Oh, bless your heart.’ And it can also be used to soften the blow of an insult, like ‘that poor fella doesn’t have the sense God gave a goose. Bless his heart.’” I smiled and told him, “You just pay attention to the tone.”

  He chuckled at that. “Now, that’s just not right.”

  We talked nonstop through dinner, sharing stories about our pasts and hopes for the future. It seemed strange that two people from two completely different worlds could have so much to talk about. I was having a great time being there with him and was disappointed when he glanced around the empty restaurant and said, “I guess we better get going before they run us out of here.”

  I followed him out to the parking lot, and we were both silent as he helped me on the bike. Before I had a chance to say something cute or flirty, he started the engine and we were on our way back to my place. It seemed like we’d only been riding for a few minutes when Gus pulled up to the curb at my apartment and parked. Once I got off the motorcycle, I unbuckled his extra helmet and handed it to him. “I had a really good time tonight. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

  He swung his leg across the seat of his bike and eased over to me. “You got plans for the weekend?”

  Gus stood just inches away, and the way he looked at me made every nerve in my body tingle with desire so intense that I almost forgot to answer his question. “Um … No, I don’t have any plans.”

  “You do now.” Before I had time to think, he placed his hands on my waist and pulled me against his chest. My heart started to race with anticipation as he lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me. His lips were soft and warm, and suddenly I was leaning right into him. It was clear that he was no Prince Charming. There was no white horse. No castle on the hill. He was rough, tough, and sexy as hell—and the man could kiss like no other. His arms tightened around me, inching me even closer as his tongue found its way into my mouth. I was holding on by a thread, and just as I was becoming completely lost in his touch, he pulled back, quickly breaking our embrace. His dark eyes danced with lust as they locked on mine. As he handed me his card, he said, “Friday night at seven. If something comes up, just call me at that number.”

  “Okay.”

  He leaned in for one last brief kiss. “Good night, Samantha.”

  “Good night, Gus.” I started up the front steps of my building, but just before I went inside, I turned around and waved. “I’ll see you Friday night.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  As I opened the door, I couldn’t help but smile. I knew it was just one date, one simple dinner
, and yet I knew it was so much more.

  It was the beginning—our beginning.

  3

  Gus

  On the day of Daisy Mae’s grand opening only a handful of customers had shown up, and the weeks that followed weren’t much better. I was beginning to think that opening the diner was a mistake, but then things took an impressive turn. For one reason or another, customers started streaming in, and it wasn’t long before we were packed from open to close. Our hard work was finally starting to pay off. The renovations to the clubhouse were complete, the diner was thriving, and we’d even taken on a handful of new prospects and were looking at the Lost Knights MC as a possible patch-over club. They were a small club with only twenty members, but they showed great potential—the kind of potential they’d need in order to be patched in as members of Fury. I was feeling pretty good about things, so I decided to take Samantha somewhere special to celebrate. I wanted it to be a surprise, so I didn’t give her much to go on—other than the time I’d come by to pick her up and to wear something comfortable. Of course, that didn’t set well with her. She was one of those women who liked to be prepared, so when I knocked on her door, I wasn’t surprised when she came out of her apartment with a large duffle bag in her hand.

  “You planning on moving in?” I cocked my eyebrow as I teased her. “We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks, but I’m good with it. It would be nice to wake up with you next to me every morning.”

  “Umm … No.” Samantha gave me one of her looks as she answered, “I brought this bag because somebody wouldn’t tell me what we were doing tonight.”

  I didn’t understand her concern. She looked absolutely stunning in her jean-shorts and sandals. “Did you or did you not hear me say to wear something comfortable?”

  “Yes, but that’s all you would tell me. Comfortable could mean flip-flops and shorts or a t-shirt and pajama pants … or jeans and—”

  “Okay. Okay,” I interrupted. “I get it. I’ll try to be more specific next time.”

  A satisfied smirk crossed her face. “Does that mean you’re going to tell me where we’re going tonight?”

  “Nope.” I took a hold of her duffle-bag and started walking towards the elevator. “Come on, beautiful. The clock’s a ticking. We don’t want to be late.”

  “Late for what?” She tried again.

  “You’ll see.” As soon as the elevator doors closed, I reached for her waist and pulled her close, then whispered, “You know, it never fails.”

  “What?”

  “Just seeing you makes my day.”

  Samantha’s expression softened as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Well, in case you didn’t know, you do the same thing to me.”

  “You gotta stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Stealing my compliments.” I teased her.

  “I don’t steal your compliments!” She paused for a moment, then added, “Well, I do, but only if I mean it.”

  “Um-hmm.” I placed my hands on her hips and inched her even closer. “I know something you could do to make it up to me.”

  “Oh, really?” She smiled. “And what’s that?”

  I leaned towards her, pressing my mouth against hers, and kissed her long and hard. Like so many times before, her body melted into mine, making me ache for more. I didn’t understand how one woman could turn me inside out the way she did. Her touch, her scent … everything about Samantha made me lose all sense of control. She shifted her stance, causing the rigid length of my erection to press against her. A light moan rippled through her chest, and I was suddenly torn between taking her right there in the elevator or carrying her back upstairs and throwing her on the bed. Sadly, neither was an option—at least not for the time being. I had special plans for Samantha tonight, so before we got any more carried away, I took a step back and released her from our embrace. “Damn, woman. You keep kissing me like that, and we’ll never make it out of this elevator.”

  A mischievous look danced in her eyes. “I’d be okay with that.”

  “I would be, too, but if we don’t get moving, we’re going to be late.” I leaned forward and kissed her on the temple. “But … I have every intention of picking up from here when we get back later tonight.”

  Before she could respond, the elevator doors opened and I led her out to the SUV. I put her duffle-bag in the backseat, and we hopped inside, then I drove us over to the Shelby Farms Park. By the time we arrived at the park it was well after dark, and people had already started to claim their spots on the lawn. As soon as we got out of the SUV, I went straight to the back and grabbed a blanket and the picnic basket of food that Louise had fixed for us. Samantha came over to me with a surprised look and asked, “What’s all this?”

  “You’ll see.”

  While we made our way towards the crowd, Samantha noticed the large movie screen tucked in the corner by the trees and smiled. “A movie night at the park?”

  “Yeah. I heard some folks talking about it down at the diner. I thought it might be something cool to try.”

  “It’s very cool.” She followed me over to an open area towards the back and helped me spread out the blanket. As we sat down, she gave me a sly smirk. “Look at you being all romantic.”

  “I’m just gettin’ started, darlin’,” I told her, using my best fake southern accent.

  After we finished eating, Samantha curled up next to me, and just as I hoped, she loved the movie. I, on the other hand, had no idea what it was even about. I was too busy watching her to keep up with what was going on. I couldn’t seem to help myself. With every moment I spent with Samantha, I found another reason to fall for her—the sound of her laugh and the way her nose crinkled every time she did, or the softness of her lips when they were pressed against mine. I never imagined that I’d ever find someone who got to me the way she did, but damn, Samantha was everything I’d always wanted and more. She had me thinking about having a future together, and the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.

  When the movie was over, we collected our things and headed back to the truck. Samantha was practically beaming. “I can’t remember enjoying a movie as much as I did tonight.”

  “Good. I’m glad you liked it.”

  As she got inside the truck, she asked, “So, where to now?”

  “That’s up to you. We could head over to the clubhouse and have a couple of drinks, or we could go back to your place and pick up where we left off in the elevator.”

  “Hmmm.” A smirk crossed her face. “I guess if I have to decide … I’d have to go with … picking up where we left off in the elevator.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Not wanting to waste another second, I pressed my foot against the accelerator and sped towards her apartment. The second we were inside her apartment complex, Samantha rushed over to the elevator and she glanced over to me with lust-filled eyes as she pressed the button. Anticipation crackled around us as we waited there together, and a relieved smile crossed her face when the doors finally opened. She stepped inside and watched with bated breath as I took a charging step forward, pinning her back against the wall. I looked down at Samantha and watched the rise and fall of her chest as she panted with need. Her eyes darkened as her gaze drifted to my lips. When she couldn’t stand it a moment longer, Samantha’s fingers dove into my hair, and she pulled me towards her, crashing her mouth against mine in a hungry kiss. The kiss quickly became heated, making my cock throb.

  “Dammit, woman. You’re killing me,” I told her as my hand dropped to her shorts. With a quick twist, I undid the first couple of buttons, then slipped my hand down her shorts. A light hiss escaped her lungs when I eased the lining of her lace panties to the side and grazed her center with the tips of my fingers—my already-hard cock pulsed against my zipper when I found she was soaked. “Damn. You’re so fuckin’ wet for me.”

  She gasped as I used my free hand to lower her shirt just enough to reveal he
r perfectly round breasts. With her eyes on mine, I lowered my mouth and began swirling my tongue around her nipple. Her head fell back as she moaned, “Oh God.”

  I nipped and sucked, relishing the sounds of her little moans and whimpers as I teased her with my tongue and my teeth. I cursed when the elevator doors opened. After I removed my hand from her shorts and she adjusted her tank top, I followed her inside the apartment. As soon as Samantha closed the door and tossed her things on the counter, she unbuttoned her shorts and let them fall to the floor. When I started towards her, she took several steps back, watching me like I was a starved predator as she bumped into the kitchen table. “You have any idea how bad I want you right now?”

  “Um-hmm.” She purred. “Just as much as I want you.”

  I lowered my hands to her hips and reached for her lace panties, sliding them down her long, lean legs. Desire flashed through her eyes as I lifted her up, then guided her to lay back on the table. I was so thirsty for her that I could barely think as I eased her legs over my shoulders and lowered my mouth between her thighs. She inhaled a deep breath when the bristles of my beard brushed against her soft skin, her back arching off the table as my tongue skimmed across her smooth center. I spread her trembling legs wider, and a needful moan echoed through the room as I slid my tongue between her folds. “Damn, baby. You taste like fucking heaven.”