Hostile Saint (Steel Stallions MC Book 1)

by India R. Adams

  In the fridge sat a row of Sol beers. For the first time, my fingers were tempted to grab two of them, but I didn’t dare without asking. “Can I have one?”

  He looked up from his phone. “You serious?”

  Thinking Lynx was upset because I was far from twenty-one, I cringed. “No?”

  His phone on speaker, I heard it begin to ring. “Nah, kid, it’s fine. Just don’t tell Elle—”

  “Don’t tell me what?”

  Lynx, with sudden wide eyes, fumbled with the cellphone. “Oh, hey, babe.”

  I listened as she gave him hell. “Uh. No. Don’t tell me what?” Then proceeded to open the two bottles with a bottle opener I’d seen the men use countless times.

  Walking into the living room, I wondered what the drinking protocol was. “Should we cheer or something?” I asked as I sat next to Lynx.

  Over the phone, a screech rang out. “Lynx! Are you giving him alcohol?”

  Lynx’s eyes bugged out as he stared at me while quietly uttering, “What are you doing?”

  Confused, I handed him his beer. “What? I thought you’re the Head Cheese, and whatever you say goes.”

  His mouth forming an O and eyes darting as if looking for a safe place to hide had me seriously reconsidering how powerful he actually was when it came to Elle.

  “Ooh,” sneered Elle. “Is that so, Mr. Head Cheese?”

  Lynx’s face contorted as he lied, “Nooooooo,” while dropping the phone onto the coffee table as if her heated anger was burning his fingers.

  Watching him, I took a sip of beer, instantly complaining, “Ugh! This Sol is terrible!”

  Lynx’s jaw dropped as he eyed me. “Dude, really?”

  The phone went dead.

  Lynx threw his hands into the air. “Fuck.”

  Both staring at the phone, I asked, “Are you in trouble?”

  He sneered, “I wouldn’t be if you’d kept your damn trap shut.” His cell vibrated. “Ah, shit. She’s face-timin’ my ass.”

  As he tapped the phone, I looked away. It felt wrong to invade his time with Elle.

  “Woman, it’s just one beer. That’s it. Me and my kid having one beer. Feel me?”

  That was twice that he called me his kid. Why did it start that night? I’m not quite sure, but he did it so naturally, I don’t know if he was even aware of the change. That made my heart tighten because, even though I had believed my upbringing was normal, I still had been very aware of not being wanted. Kids aren’t stupid. They can feel when their family isn’t keen on their presence. And, of course, being tortured by my brothers was another blaring clue.

  With Lynx now naturally deepening our friendship, I struggled with—well—being wanted. It was foreign. It almost felt like a trap. One that could bust my heart into pieces if it didn’t work out.

  “Aw, babe,” Elle quietly said. “I feel you, loud and clear.” I heard her sniffle. “In fact, I’m headed to the kitchen right now to grab me one. The three of us will have his first, together.”

  Now, my heart was outright pounding. I looked up to the ceiling, trying to dry my forming tears. It’s like my heart knew it was about to experience something I had never known; a shared moment with parental figures.

  Yes, my dad loved me dearly, but that was never reciprocated by my mother.

  At least, at this point in my life, I now knew why.

  Unsure of how to react, I took a big swig of my beer. Before I could even swallow, Lynx lifted his phone so that Elle could see me and I could see her.

  I spit the mouthful across the room.

  Lynx leaned away from me. “The fuck?”

  Elle was so worried. “Oh my God! Is he okay?”

  Oh, I was fine, just stunned by her beauty.

  Standing in some industrial kitchen I wasn’t expecting at a ‘home’, there was Elle. I gazed at her. Every curve of that flawless face blended with the next, making it impossible to determine where her absolute gorgeousness began or ended. Everywhere, there were simply striking attributes. Her hair was long, from what I could tell, and blond, waving around just like her model-man boyfriend’s.

  Wiping my beer-dribbled chin, I quietly apologized to Lynx, “I’m so sorry, but you said she was old.”

  “He what?” screeched his ‘Old’ Lady.

  Lynx was flabbergasted. “I said, what?”

  “You said the ‘old lady’!” I apologized, “Sorry, Prez, but I gotta tell ya. You’re dead wrong.” I gestured to the phone. “That ain’t no grandma. Elle looks like a model right out of a magazine.”

  As Elle giggled over the phone, Lynx leaned his head back and let loose a long laugh. Trying to catch his breath, he sighed. “Damn, kid. You kill me. Old Lady is a term. A status. Like Lace will be for you.”

  Sheepishly, I winced. “Oh.”

  Elle was still chuckling. “Nine Lives, you are the cutest thing. I can’t wait to give you a big ol’ hug, sweet baby.”

  Beaming, Lynx tossed his thick arm over my shoulders, “I’ll give ‘im one for ya,” and yanked me in while lifting his bottle. “Babe, got your beer yet? I’m thirsty, and the kid didn’t know to wait.”

  “Oh shit.” I looked at my half-empty bottle. “I messed up my first beer?”

  “Nah,” he used his bottle to gesture in front of us, “you just sprayed it all over the living room.”

  Elle showed us her Sol. “I’m ready!”

  I ain’t gonna lie. My eyes welled up again as I held up my first beer and listened to Lynx wanting us to cheer to their ‘kid’ being alive.

  Then Elle compounded my emotions when adding, “Yes, to a very special person entering our lives just when we needed him most.”

  They didn’t judge me as I held my beer higher in the air to respond while struggling to talk. Nor did they judge when I decided to not say anything at all because I was simply too overcome to do so. They didn’t make fun of me for drinking my first beer with silent unshed tears. They understood that I was overwhelmed by the simple fact I was being loved. They understood it was hard for me. Because my family… had just tried to kill me.

  In this family fashion, we moved along… “Oh, my boys. This is great news!” celebrated Elle, after Lynx and I told her about me finally getting to see Lacey.

  Insecurely, my head wobbled. “I mean, she didn’t know who I was, but that’s okay.”

  “Well,” Elle kindly said, “it’s not okay because it hurts you so much, but my heart says Pretty Girl will remember you again someday.”

  I played with the empty bottle in my hand while I coughed to clear my suddenly dry throat. “Yeah, I’m going to take her a vanilla shake tomorrow night.”

  “Aww!” After a moment, Elle said, “Did Lynx tell you about our blender here?”

  That got my attention. “No. What kind is it?”

  “The, uh, big kind?” She giggled. “You can make your girl any kind of milkshake you want when you two get here.”

  My mouth fell open. “Come to your house?”

  Up to that point in my life, I’d only been invited to Lacey’s. And that invitation was really just her giving me permission to climb through her window so that no one actually knew I was there. I’d never been allowed friends or any kind of sleepover like I’d heard about in school.

  “No.” Elle giggled some more. “Your home.” She twisted so I could see her surroundings—more of the huge kitchen. “Our home. The clubhouse.” Excitedly, she told me, “We are setting up Lacey and your own room as we speak.”

  Now, my mouth positively gawked. I looked to Lynx. “That’s what you meant. ‘A place where you can keep her safe’.”

  As if realizing this was all finally sinking in, he patiently nodded. “Yeah, kid. My clubhouse. We call it the Barn.” He stated proudly, “Men who will fight to the death. Lots of protection for your girl.”

  In my chest bloomed a warm, heavy feeling. “And these men are like you guys? No one to scare Lace?”

  Elle chuckled. “They may look scary, but they are s
uckers for their own. Lacey will most likely be spoiled.” She gestured again to the big ol’ kitchen that now made sense. “Like the milkshakes.”

  I explained, “She’s only had vanilla, but wow.”

  Elle beamed. “Life can be like a milkshake; you can make it any flavor you want.”

  That concept really resonated with me, taking a very special place in my heart and staying there. I knew, someday, I’d say those same words to my Lacey.

  Elle added, “My favorite flavor just happens to be of burley men and leather.”

  Lynx said, “Babe, have I told you how much I fucking love you?”

  Before she could reply, over the phone, I heard a door swing open and saw a young woman dash behind Elle until she saw she was also seen on the phone. The young woman immediately stopped, her turquoise eyes wide as could be. Blue nail-polished fingers covered her mouth as she stared at Lynx. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!”

  This would be the moment I saw my first glimpse of how ‘Prez’ normally conducted himself. It was like a wall was built in front of him in a second flat. His shoulders set back. His chin lifted. His voice lowered and took on a direct tone. “You’re fine, Saph—”

  Seeing me, she waved. “Hi! I’m Sapphire!”

  Lynx moved the phone so she couldn’t see me. “Saph, I need you to remember the rules and continue with what you were doing.”

  Her big eyes got impossibly bigger. “Oh yes, sorry.” Then she darted off. I heard a fridge open, shut, then Sapphire appeared once more. “Sorry.” She held up her arms that were carrying a mammoth footlong sandwich. “Meatball needed a snack.” Then she darted off.

  As soon as we were alone again, Lynx relaxed. “Babe, I told you this was a bad idea.”

  Elle pleaded, “Lynx,” she glanced to the side where I imagined the kitchen door to be then whispered, “Please don’t make me send her away.”

  “Send her— Wait. Has she been staying there, Elle?”

  Elle quickly put an earphone in her left ear so no one there could hear the conversation. “Yes, but—”

  “I ain’t running an orphanage, Elle.”

  She kept whispering, “I know, but she will earn her keep.”

  “I have all the employees I need.”

  “Lynx, she has nowhere to stay. She needs a place—”

  “You talkin’ about her living at the Barn?”

  “Babe, this poor girl needs a home.”

  Lynx eyed the phone. “Only two types of women can consider the Barn their home.”

  She exhaled. “I know that. Old Ladies—”

  “And bunnies. That pip-squeak ain’t got the makin’s for an Old Lady.”

  I was clueless as to what a bunny was, but Elle replied, “Well, that’s the decision of the man, right?”

  “Elle,” warned her man.

  “She, uh, watches Brat. He, uh, has noticed her, too. I thought maybe that would be a good match?”

  “Brat’s only a Prospect, and he’s a complete mess, Elle.”

  “So is she!” Elle whispered loudly. “She works at Hell’s Angels strip club!”

  “That ain’t no strip joint. That’s a whorehouse. A shithole of one that would eat that little girl alive.”

  Elle shrugged as if her point had now been made.

  Lynx sat back. “Jesus. H. Christ.”

  Elle added, “Hence being a bunny is a very good option.” She teared up. “Please. She has a good heart. I just know it.”

  Lynx eyed me… then closed his eyes and exhaled, leaning back to rest. “I’m not doubting her heart, babe.” His eyes opened. “I’m doubting whether or not she’s a good fit.” He shook his head while sitting back up. “That little girl would get ate up in this lifestyle, too.”

  Hearing such words, I wondered why being an Old Lady was so different. Why my Lace would be so safe.

  Elle’s eyes drifted closed as if her mind were in a place she didn’t want to be. “I am asking you to do this for me.”

  Lynx’s shoulders caved. Then, without Elle knowing it, his finger reached out to touch her, hovering just above the phone. After staring at Elle for a few long seconds, he retracted his hand, then told me, “You watch, I’m gonna regret this someday.”

  Elle’s whole body sighed as she grabbed her chest in relief. “I’ll watch over her.”

  Reluctantly, he told Elle, “She can bunny for Brat.”

  Elle nodded. “Thank you.”

  “He’s the only for her. Once he’s voted in, we’ll see where this goes.”

  Elle kept nodding with such relief. “That’s all I’m asking. She loves it here, Lynx.”

  Lynx still sounded annoyed. “Have Justice re-explain ‘rules’ to that girl. You are too much of a softy. Following rules is how to stay safe.”

  Elle was more than willing to agree to anything at this point. The little Saph had clearly made an impression.

  Once off the phone, Lynx and I sat there for a quiet moment.

  I finally asked, “What’s a bunny?”

  He scratched at the permanent label on the bottle. “A way to keep my men safe.” When I stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation, he conceded, “To those looking in, it looks as if I’m whoring out girls. In truth, I’m offering an all-inclusive place to live for those who are willing to share a bed with a man or two.”

  I lifted a brow.

  He chuckled. “I’m serious. It’s an arrangement. Some women really like sex. A lot of them like to fuck bikers.” He rolled his eyes. “I guess we’re some sort of untamed mystery.”

  Not able to argue with that, I shrugged. “You sort of are.”

  He pondered. “Yeah, we’re a different breed.”

  Since he was getting lost in thought, I prompted, “Bunny?”

  “Oh yeah. So,” he put the bottle between his legs, then exposed a palm, “in one hand, I have these women.” He opened his other palm. “In the other, I have horny bikers.” His head bobbed. “Yes, we have parties where we invite lots of chicks, but we can’t party every day.”

  I lifted my other brow. “You drink every day.”

  He delivered a dirty grin. “That ain’t partying, Pup.” As I laughed, he continued, “As you can see, my men have daily appetites, hence sending them off before they blow.”

  My face scrunched as I thought about Dagger’s ‘special’ crème for Lynx’s coffee. I looked around the living room, thankful there was only my beer.

  He burst into laughter. “Nooooo! Jesus, they ain’t gonna spew all over the furniture! I mean their temper!” He sat forward. “Okay, this ‘mysterious’ breed that we are carries a lot of pressure at times. Girls tend to ease that pressure.”

  “Ooooooooh.”

  “Now you feel me, right? To keep the needed calm, yet protect my boys from certain women who want to use them or trap them so they can be an Old Lady, we have certain women who are bunnies. They spoil my boys. I spoil them in return. Credit cards. Cars. All expenses paid. Capeesh?” I nodded. “But there are rules. Bunnies are only to lay with a chosen one or two. They are not to bring home any VDs. No outside relations. Birth control is a must. And they’re not to ever expect to be an Old Lady.”

  “What if a biker falls in love with a bunny?”

  Lynx hissed. “It’s happened. And it can be complicated when the other biker isn’t willing to let go.” He sat back. “But, for the most part, it has worked well. Bunnies have somewhat become wives, only without the emotional attachment or rings. They take real good care of their men. Laundry, to-do lists...” He grinned. “Our club girls may not be like other ones. Each club runs their ship as they like. But for us, we treat bunnies right. Like birthdays and Christmas, bunnies get extravagant gifts. The smart ones get a college degree out of it. They leave better off than when they came to us.”

  “Are bikers sad to see them… go?”

  “If ending on good terms, sure, to a degree, but they’re always very happy for the ‘new’ bunny.”

  “Don’t they want a real w
ife someday?”

  Lynx exhaled heavily. “Some just don’t let women get that close anymore. Some stings are just too deep.”

  I thought of Lacey and knew she could cut me the deepest.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Climbing Walls

  Picture-perfect naked breasts jiggled as she giggled. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  My knees digging into the mattress, I was in awe. “Lace, I’ve never been so turned on in my life.”

  Her silky leg wrapped around my waist and pulled me to her. “Then be with me.”

  Her wet core brushed against my painful erection, coaxing me to find my way inside. Found, I shuddered as I slid home. “This will never get old.”

  She arched underneath me, her eyes falling shut. “Make me come, Tate.”

  Breathless, I stroked in and out of excellence, begging my body not to orgasm until she did. As her moans escalated, my balls coiled up so tight—so ready to burst.

  She whimpered, “Yes. There. More. More, Tate.”

  As her head began to thrash against the pillow, I pumped and pumped, soon groaning through my own epic relief—

  My eyes opened.

  My belly was laying on wet sheets.

  I froze.

  Was it morning? Had a Stallion, sitting in a chair, just watched me ejaculate against a mattress? Then I remembered taking a nap since it was possible I would be up late with Lacey that night. In relief, I sunk into the bed, then cursed because my sheets were sticky.

  Rolling out of bed, I stared at my stomach while asking myself, “Shower time?”

  Once clean and dressed, I stared at my bed. “How the fuck do I explain this?”

  Then I quickly yanked the blanket free and removed the sheets, balling them up and tucking them under my arm, telling myself, “Act cool. They know nothing.”

  Walking through the living room, I refused to look at the bikers as I marched toward the kitchen. They were on the back porch, standing there, watching me, smoking cigarettes and grinning.

  Lynx knocked on the glass as I walked past them. “What’s wrong with your sheets, Pup?”

  Dagger had apparently delivered such a good time to a club girl the night prior, she came over the next morning and cleaned the house—including the fucking sheets.