Love, Loyalty & Mayhem: A Motorcycle Club Romance Anthology

by Ryan Michele

  “Good luck, Blaze,” Florence wishes me and squeezes my bicep as I step into the over-organized office.

  “Thank you,” I say to the short woman, and she closes the door. First thing I do is head for the security feed and delete the entire week's footage for the front desk. Just in case someone does report Amelia Stone as missing, I need to cover my tracks and make it look like I was never here.

  Now, the real decision I have to make is, do I wait behind the door to surprise her? Or, should I sit my ass on her desk and witness the fury firsthand in her beautiful irises one last time before I use the knockout drug and take her with me?

  My fingers rake over the dirty blond scruff on my jaw as I think of what would be best. Her fighting me would be much more fun, but she may make too much noise. I promised we’d be quiet. With a sigh, I step behind the door and eagerly await my woman’s arrival. I’ve got a surprise for her; one she won’t ever see coming.

  5

  Amelia

  My head’s heavy and my brain groggy with an abundance of fatigue. What on earth happened? Did I pass out? The last thing I remember was my meeting at school with Jimmy’s parents. I’d finished discussing punishment options and walked back to my office. At least, I think I did. I don’t remember ever making it to my desk, though. Ugh, I feel like I’ve been sick for a week, and I’m finally beginning to make my way out of it.

  Inhaling, I roll over onto my stomach, noticing multiple things all at once. First, my wrists are squished together, my hands balled up into fists under my chest. This doesn’t smell like my lavender vanilla detergent either. It smells distinctly male.

  I haven’t had a male in my bed in God knows how long. Actually, that’s not true; it’s been two years since I’d invited anyone home with me. I blame it on a long day and too much wine, but even then, it was at a hotel and not my house. I was at a conference out of state...a man wasn’t in my bed at home. So why do I smell one now? It’s a mixture of musky male, deodorant or cologne and soap all meshed together. Inhaling again, my stomach tightens, and I groan, wanting to keep smelling it. Whatever dream I’m in, I don’t want that part to end. I could cover myself in the scent and never get my fill. It’s been too long since I’ve had sex. I’ve been busy and especially haven’t wanted to deal with the potential of having a relationship with anyone.

  The air conditioner kicks on, and the sudden brisk breeze of cold air causes my nipples to stiffen. Now that definitely isn’t right. I have to be dreaming. I don’t ever sleep naked. I have a collection of comfortable satin nightgowns and flannel pajamas that I snuggle up in each night. I get a full chill and my flesh covers in goosebumps. My body squirms, seeking warmth. Where are all the blankets?

  A big, rough palm lands on my bicep. My body jerks in surprise as it moves up and down, chasing the goosebumps on my arm. “Shhh,” a deep voice coos from behind and my muscles tighten. My back’s as stiff as a board, my frame constricting further as my mind clears enough to realize that I can’t move my arms. I concentrate on the movement again but get nothing in return.

  I want to ask who's there and why the hell I can’t move easily. I attempt to talk, to cry out, but only a whimper breaks free. Why am I so damn groggy? What’s wrong with me?

  “You’re all right, sweetheart. Just try and relax. It’ll be easier coming out of the drugs if you don’t fight. Slowly wake up and pull yourself out. You were unconscious. You have to give your head time to catch up.”

  My eyes shoot open. There’s no mistaking, that was definitely a man. I’m exposed, naked, and vulnerable. Was I in a wreck or something? I don’t remember driving. Do I have amnesia?

  “Ugh,” I manage as his palm moves to rub my back. I want to scream at him not to touch me, but I have to get my bearings first.

  “Shhh sugar,” he soothes, and I refrain from jabbing my foot backward and telling him to shut up.

  Glancing around, I take in the space. I’m nowhere that I recognize in the slightest. The room’s pretty standard with beige walls and a charcoal, overstuffed chair. A five-drawer walnut dresser sits on the opposite wall, bare with only a flat screen TV resting on top. There are two closed doors off to the side. If I’d have to guess, maybe it’s a closet and bathroom? The place is sparse though, nothing to give away the location or who lives here.

  “Where am I?” I ask after working my tongue around my mouth and clear my throat.

  “You’re in my room,” he replies and the voice registers. I know who that rich, gravelly sound belongs to.

  My eyes drop to my wrists as panic blooms in my chest. This can’t be happening. I have to be dreaming. I’m in denial; there’s no way this can be real. Releasing a breath, I shift to my side, attempting to look at him. Maybe if I see him I’ll finally wake up—at least, I hope that’s the case.

  “Let me help.” He grabs onto my bicep again, pulling me to turn over, and I end up on my back.

  The icy air hits my front, and I realize my mistake. I’ve presented my nakedness right out in the open. His determined imperturbable blue gaze meets mine, and I gasp at finding him completely bare lying beside me. His mouth turns up into his signature cocky smirk, and I scream bloody murder.

  His grin drops, stricken by my sudden outburst, and then he’s grabbing me. He yanks me to him, and in the next second, his lips are on mine.

  This isn’t a dream; it’s real. I’m naked and tied up in Blaze’s bed. The truth hits me like a ton of bricks as I try not to lose myself in his demanding mouth. I’ve been kidnapped by the very man I was avoiding. He’s trouble—a deceptively sexy criminal, and God help me, but I don’t think he’ll be letting me go anytime soon.

  Read the conclusion to Blaze’s story this fall! If you enjoyed this taste, look for more Oath Keepers MC books available now.

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  Prelude to Salvation by Terri Anne Browning

  Angels Halo Next Gen MC Series

  Introduction

  Lexa Reid knows that the one thing her father won’t let her have is Sheriff Ben Davis. But that doesn’t stop her from wanting him…

  1

  Ben

  The bell over the door sounded, and I lifted my gaze from my coffee on instinct. I did it every time the door opened, unable to stop myself from watching anyone who came or went from the little mom-and-pop shop that was the best place to eat in town.

  Since moving back to Creswell Springs, I’d found that out fairly quick. I had almost every meal at Aggie’s, much to my grandmother’s dismay. I’d moved back to be closer to them now that they were getting older, and because they were my only remaining family. All Gran wanted to do was take care of me, but my own cooking would have killed me, and the hours I worked didn’t allow me to eat with her and Pops as much as any of us liked.

  A young couple walked in, the man carrying a car seat in one hand, while the other was entwined with the woman’s at his side. They looked tired, but I put that down to being new parents. One of the waitresses moved forward, taking them straight back to a table and producing a high chair to place the car seat on.

  My eyes had barely gone back to my coffee when the door opened again, and everything inside of me suddenly went still.

  I’d been in Creswell Springs for six months now, and I’d never seen her before. I would have remembered if I had. Not just because I had a memory that could place any face—if not their name. I was so fucking bad with names sometimes it was ridiculous.

  This girl—woman—walked into the place, and the entire restaurant stopped to glance her way.

  There was something about her that drew every eye, had them taking a second look, and some even a third.

  Her midnight-black hair fell just past her shoulders, half over her back, the other half falling into her face on the right side, but she didn’t move to push it back. Her skin was flawless from what I could see with her left side facin
g me, a healthy peaches-and-cream shade that looked soft as hell. She was taller than any other woman I’d seen in this town, nearly six feet in her biker boots, with a body that had my cock waking up for the first time in a long, long time.

  The beauty didn’t wait for the waitress to return, just walked over to the counter and sat at one of the empty chairs, placing a stack of books on the countertop and opening the first one. I sat there watching her, unable to tear my eyes off her even as the bell over the door sounded again and then again moments later.

  The waitress behind the counter placed a coffee cup and saucer in front of the beauty, filling it and saying something with a roll of her eyes. My beauty didn’t lift her head as she spoke back, her gaze still glued to the pages before her.

  What was she reading? The cover was encased in brown paper, a makeshift jacket to hide the title. From the size of the book, I knew it was a textbook, though, and it irritated me that I couldn’t see what subject she was studying.

  I lifted my own coffee, sipping as I took my time soaking up the sight of her. That curvy ass was encased in jeans and, with her sitting on the stool, it was on perfect display for me. As I observed her, I assumed she was a college student, but that didn’t make sense. School was out for the summer, the majority of the students having gone home for the term. That made for a more peaceful town, and I had fewer frat parties to break up every weekend.

  My waitress stopped at my table, refilling my coffee, asking if I wanted dessert now that my dinner had settled. I nodded. “Whatever pie you have is fine,” I told Quinn, my usual waitress, without taking my gaze off the woman at the counter.

  “Coming right up,” she said chipperly. Quinn was nice and professional—and also a part owner of the place, from what my grandparents told me. She never tried to flirt with me like most of the others did. Never tried to touch me. After meeting her husband once, though, I understood why.

  As she walked away, my beauty lifted her left hand, pushing back a few strands that fell on that side of her face, but she kept the right side obscured with the thick, glossy mass. A flash of silver caught my attention as her bracelet shifted on her wrist. The medical alert on it had me leaning forward slightly in my booth, wanting—damn it, needing—to see what it was for.

  “Peanuts,” Quinn said quietly, placing the slice of pie in front of me.

  Reluctantly, I looked up at her. “Excuse me?”

  “Lexa’s bracelet.” She nodded toward the woman at the counter. “She’s allergic to nuts.”

  “I haven’t seen her around before,” I commented, returning my gaze back to the counter.

  “That’s because she’s been away at college for the past nine months,” Quinn said with a shrug. “But she’s home for the summer, and if her parents have their way, she’ll stay local next term. Having her go all the way to Oregon for school was hard on her mom.”

  If I had my way, she wouldn’t leave for any reason. Ever.

  The thought barely flirted through my mind before I was clenching my jaw. Holy shit, where did that come from?

  Needing to distract myself and the crazy thoughts going through my head, I picked up my fork and stabbed at my pie. Apple, thankfully, and not the chocolatey peanut butter I normally would have had.

  I won’t be able to kiss her if I eat nuts now.

  Quinn walked away, taking care of her other customers, and I tried to focus on my dessert. But with each bite, my gaze kept going back to the counter.

  Lexa.

  I liked the name. It suited her.

  I wanted to breathe it in her ear as she rode my cock.

  2

  Lexa

  I felt his eyes on me almost as soon as I walked through the door.

  It wasn’t unusual. When your dad was the town’s most feared yet respected man, second to none, people tended to stop what they were doing when you walked into a room. And when one side of your face looked like you belonged in the freak show at the carnival, they always came back for a second glance.

  My hair fell into my face, blocking prying eyes from gawking at the souvenir I’d gotten from one of my father’s enemies when I was little more than five. I hated that damn scar, but every time Mom asked if I wanted to get it fixed, I always turned her down.

  The scar, I could live with. Fuck anyone who didn’t want to see the ugliness. No one asked them to look anyway. Why should I alter the way I looked just to please everyone else?

  I dropped my books on the countertop and parked my ass, not even looking up when Tabby came over to pour me a cup of coffee.

  “Want something to eat?” the waitress asked casually.

  We’d gone to high school together, but she was a year ahead of me. When she graduated, she left for SoCal for a few months, claiming she was going to be some big movie star one day. I guess being the president of the drama club gave her an instant “in” within the acting world—my eyes had never rolled so hard in my life.

  Months later, she came crawling back to town, and everyone was so surprised she hadn’t become Hollywood’s new it girl.

  “No thanks,” I told her, my eyes scanning over the reading material for my classes. They didn’t start until August, three freaking months away, but I wanted to be prepared. College wasn’t easy, and I’d gone into it with my eyes open, unlike most of my freshman class back in Oregon. I wasn’t going to slack off just because Mom was desperate for me to stay in Creswell Springs and wanted me to go to the local college.

  Something I was debating giving in to for her.

  I loved my mom more than any other person on the planet. She was my best friend, my biggest cheerleader. When she looked at me, she didn’t see the scar or the broken girl underneath. Her mom-goggles saw the real me, and she loved me anyway. And the crazy part, the thing that always boggled my mind, was that, biologically, I wasn’t even hers.

  Raven Hannigan Reid adopted me even before she married my father. She took one look at me, claimed me as her own, and that was that. I belonged to her. I was her baby. There were times I was sure she loved me even more than my brother, and not just when Max was driving her batshit crazy either.

  As the feel of everyone else’s eyes slowly faded, I felt his remain.

  To my left, five booths away. I was aware of every move he made, and yet I hadn’t even looked at him. I’d caught a glimpse as I walked in, just enough to know what I was dealing with as I took a quick scan of the entire diner on my way to the counter. Dark hair, wide shoulders, sexy scruff of a beard.

  Cop uniform.

  That uniform had kept me from taking a second look in his direction even though I’d more than liked what little I’d seen.

  My dad would freak if I even blinked at a cop, let alone lusted after one.

  “No,” I said again when Tabby didn’t move away, sure that she would try to kill me if I dared order anything to eat from her. It wasn’t like we’d been besties in high school. She’d hated me, and I could honestly say the feeling was mutual. She, like everyone else who knew who I was, was aware of my nut allergy.

  One little cross-contamination and I could be fighting for my life.

  And she would stand over me smiling even as my tongue began to swell and I fought to breathe.

  Tabby had other customers to take care of at the counter, plus to-go orders to put together. I was thankful she was kept busy so I could focus on my reading.

  But instead of being able to get lost in the words, all I could think about was the feel of his gaze. It was like a physical caress as his eyes skimmed over my shoulders and down to my ass where they lingered.

  I shifted on my stool, feeling a tension begin to build low in my belly.

  How could someone’s eyes make me feel so needy?

  Yet that was exactly what I was feeling. This ache deep in my gut, burning down to my core. Making my boobs swell and throb as my nipples pressed into the material of my bra cups. I wasn’t even going to think about the state of my panties, but as damp as they were, it was becoming h
ard not to.

  Frustrated with myself, I pushed a few strands of hair back from my face and used the moment to glance at him out of the corner of my eye. Strong jaw, broad nose, lips that made me want to lick them—

  Fuck, Lexa, stop it.

  Chastising myself was enough to force my attention back on the book, and I turned the page—even though I hadn’t even taken in a single word I’d just read.

  A soft hand touched my shoulder, and I looked up to find my aunt Quinn standing behind me. She gave me a sweet smile, her blue eyes filling with amusement as she leaned in close.

  “The sheriff can’t take his eyes off you,” she whispered. “Have you been casting spells again, Lexa?”

  I refused to look his way, but something she said caught my attention. “Sheriff?” He didn’t look old enough to be the sheriff, at least not any sheriff I’d ever seen before. Sheriff Hogan, who’d been sheriff since I was five, was old as hell. He’d been a good sheriff, but I heard he’d been diagnosed with prostate cancer and retired less than a year before his latest term was up.

  “Sheriff Davis stepped in after Hogan announced his retirement so the town wouldn’t have to hold a special election. But he’s been doing a good job, and everyone is talking about voting for him in November.”

  “But…” I bit into the tender flesh of my cheek to force myself from speaking the words that wanted freedom. But I don’t want him to be the fucking sheriff.