Devil: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Baby Romance (Black Talons MC) (Outlaw MC Romance Collection Book 2)

by Vivian Gray

  It wasn’t true. Not really. None of their real customers had gone anywhere, the ones who had been trusting their product for a long time. The more casual customers, though, the ones who came in just occasionally, or who had just a random need for something to mellow out a party to take the edge off a long week? Those customers had been quieter. It wasn’t affecting business enough to worry about, but it was frustrating. Over time it could cause problems. More importantly, though, it could destroy the club’s reputation over time. There was a lot of buzz out in the world about how a club lived or died by its rep, and that might be true; for the kinds of product they moved, however, it was essential that they stand for something. They charged premium prices for a premium product, and to do that, they needed a premium reputation.

  Jacob’s laugh was carefully calculated. If he tossed his head back, he’d look like a crazy person; if he just giggled or chuckled, he’d look weak. He let out a loud, sharp laugh, and looked at Snake-eye, who was standing at his right hand. “Can you believe this son of a bitch?” Snake-eye cracked a grin after glancing over at Whip. “Thinks his little startup is going to topple a project of our size. Pretty fantastic, huh?”

  “It is worth a laugh, boss,” Snake-eye replied. It was only after that moment had been shared that Jacob turned his gaze back to Whip.

  The other men were laughing, too, and it had gotten under Whip’s skin, just like Jacob wanted it to. The man’s expression was still neutral, but his hands were so tightly clenched that his knuckles were pale under his tattoos, and his biceps were tight and thick.

  “You think poaching a couple of my casual customers is enough to threaten what I’ve built here?” Jacob kept his voice low, let that thread of laughter continue to meander through. “You think a gang that’s so far known for kidnapping and raping women and dealing low-quality guns can move in on a premium drug market and threaten that? You’re a goddamn fool.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a premium drug market, though, does it?”

  There was anger in Whip’s voice, which made Jacob pause. This went deeper than just taking down the club. For the first time, Jacob wondered why Whip was here. The Talons weren’t the only club that dealt high-quality in the area, and frankly, some of the other clubs would be a lot easier to take down. What was happening here? Clearly, more than he was thinking.

  “I don’t think you understand, Lee,” Whip said, and Jacob’s eyes narrowed hearing his surname like that. “I’m not going to roll up and go away. I am owed a debt, and I will be paid. If I can’t take it out of your hide, I will take it out of your child’s. Understand this.”

  Jacob’s blood ran cold as Whip stood and turned to go. Patriot was standing at the door, and he glanced at Jacob. Jacob knew at that moment that if he nodded, Patriot would pull the weapon he kept in a holster at the base of his spine, and he would shoot Whip in the head. Whatever problem there was would be solved.

  But it wouldn’t be solved, would it? Jacob needed to know – so many things. Why was Whip here? What debt did he believe Jacob owed him? How did he know about the baby? What was he willing to do? Without knowing those things, Jacob would just be attacking the head he could see without knowing what monster might be lurking in the shadows. And that could put him – and Laurie – and the baby – in even more danger than they apparently already were.

  So he shook his head at Patriot, who opened the door for Whip with a cool, quiet expression. Instead, he glanced at George, a slim guy with a tight look about him. He never quite managed to meet anyone’s eyes, but he was the smartest guy Jacob had ever known. George had served as intelligence for some level of the Feds before he went a little too off to pass the psych tests. He was a good man, and he kept on his meds, and he had been invaluable to the Talons over time. Jacob nodded at George, who rose without speaking and went out the back door to the war room. The door that was almost hidden in the boards, nearly invisible unless you knew it was there.

  George would find the best way to track Whip and find out what was happening, what Whip knew and how he knew it. He’d report back when he was sure, and not before then. He would get Jacob exactly what Jacob needed to move forward. George hadn’t been able to turn up much before, but they hadn’t had a lead. Now, they had an angry shit who was going to lead them right back to where he was hiding.

  It was a start.

  There were a dozen faces around the war room table looking at him, waiting for direction. It wasn’t the first time Jacob had felt the weight of leadership, but it was the first time he’d met those careful looks and felt like he hadn’t done all he could to keep up. God, he’d been ferrying Laurie to and from each of her goddamn OB appointments, he hadn’t crawled out of her pussy for months, and he’d let himself get soft, thinking about a goddamn kid. Could he really say that he’d put the entirety of his energy on finding Whip and the Devil’s Weapons? Obviously, he couldn’t.

  This was why he’d kept women to nothing but wet holes that drained his cock before he moved on. A way to burn off the energy that was otherwise distracting.

  Beating the shit out of himself was more wasted energy that he could not afford. He took a breath, assembling his thoughts as quickly as he could before he spoke. “Snake-eye, look over our production numbers. Make sure we’re not overproducing, given the decreases we’ve been seeing. Patriot, reach out to our mid-tier customers and make sure they understand that the other product on the street is inferior to ours. Buzz, get one of the kids to get ahold of what the Weapons are selling, two or three tabs at least, so we can run some tests and get numbers to show that ours is safer and cleaner. People know that Molly has to be pure or it’ll kill you; we can show them that ours is the best. It’ll keep the premium in place.”

  What else?

  He handed out orders with the efficiency and surety he’d built over many years. There was no room for wavering or insecurity in moments like this; he needed to be a model of strength and confidence that the men could believe in. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a thing to do but roll over and die.

  He hadn’t rescued this club from the ashes to watch it run over by a man who thought that running guns and selling women into sex slavery was the right way to gain a foothold. The Black Talons had a reputation for protecting their people, and by God, he’d keep that in place.

  The men dispersed, all except Snake-eye. When the room was empty except for the two men, Jacob allowed himself the weakness of letting his head fall into his hands for just a moment. He felt his old VP’s hand fall on his shoulder. He wanted to shrug the gesture off, and he would. In just a second.

  “Boss,” Snake-eye started.

  Jacob pulled himself up. “I know. I can’t let things keep going this way. I’ve let too much soft in, and I need to figure that out, move on. I can’t change what’s happened, but the rest—”

  He felt Snake-eye’s hand tighten on his shoulder. “No, boss. No. That’s not what I was going to say.”

  Jacob pushed his chair away and looked up at – not just his VP, but his friend, the man who had been there when Jacob’s grief over his father’s death had been overwhelming. He tried to let his heart settle down and hear whatever Snake-eye was going to say. “Tell me, then.”

  “You can’t close yourself off for good. The best thing your father ever did was to have you. It gave him the right kind of softness. You can love the club, you can love the men, but you have to love something smaller. Something real, something you can hold in your hands. Something that is just yours. A kid is like that, a good woman is like that.” Snake-eye shook his head. “You take a lot on your shoulders, Jacob, and that’s a good thing. We need a man like you. But if you make yourself too hard, you won’t be the man you need to be. The man we need you to be.”

  Jacob’s eyes felt hot and tight. He hadn’t cried in a long time, and he had no plans to start now. He just... needed to breathe. “I can’t see how to do both.”

  Snake-eye nodded. “I ain’t saying it’s easy. But just trying? Tha
t’ll help you find the way. The balance you need to keep going through this.”

  Jacob wanted to press him, figure out more of what Snake-eye was talking about, but that heat wasn’t going to pass until he moved away from the topic. He’d take in what the man said and figure out the rest later. “This old debt of Whip’s. Do you have any idea what he’s talking about? Something that might have to do with me? Dad maybe?”

  Snake-eye whistled through his teeth as he thought through whatever was on his mind. “I’m not saying your daddy was a saint, boss, but he didn’t usually kill people who didn’t deserve it. What you’ve done, there’s nothing obvious. You’ve run a clean club; you haven’t dealt in stuff that gets people killed. Maybe Whip had someone close who OD’d on Molly that was traced to us? But that’s not your problem in any kind of way.”

  “Unless it is,” Jacob said, sighing. “Keep working it, okay? If you think of something, anything, I need to know.”

  “Of course, boss,” Snake-eye said, his voice as calm and careful as always. “And you should go see that pretty girl of yours. Lay your hands on that belly she’s sporting and remind yourself why all of this is worth it.”

  It wasn’t Laurie’s belly Jacob wanted. At least, not at first. He didn’t say another word to Snake-eye, just stood up and walked out of the war room.

  Laurie was at the bar, her hands shaking and her eyes wide with fear. For a minute, Jacob paused; he hadn’t considered whether she’d see Whip coming into or out of the clubhouse. He should have sent someone to warn her to stay in her office. God, what time was it? He’d missed lunch. Fuck.

  All of that was secondary, though, to the aching in his dick, the same urgent need that rose every time he saw her. Part of him had worried he’d want her less when she was big and round, but he just wanted her more with every inch her belly grew. And that fear in her… He was going to take a wild guess and say that what he’d seen before was true: a hard, rough fuck, the kind where he didn’t ask questions, would take that fear and turn it into something she could handle. Something she didn’t have to hold on to. And since that was exactly what he wanted, it was pretty fucking convenient.

  He pulled her close right there at the bar and closed his mouth over hers with a punishing hard kiss. His tongue forced her mouth open, his hand tightening in her hair and pulling her hard to the angle he wanted. She resisted, but just enough to make them both want more. He pushed up her skirt, not caring who the fuck saw, and slammed two fingers into her cunt. She was wet and eager, moaning as he twisted them inside of her.

  He could make her come right here on this barstool, his fingers buried in her cunt and finger-banging her until she screamed into his mouth. He’d done it before – gotten her so lost in pleasure that she didn’t give a shit who saw. When she’d come down from it, her cheeks had been bright red, and the shame had gotten her so wet he’d fucked her again in their room, made her come screaming on his cock before he came inside her.

  He thought of doing it again. He’d loved how humiliated she’d looked, and she’d clearly loved how it felt. She was grinding against his hand, seeking the pressure of his palm on her clit; it would be all that she needed to drive her over the edge. But that wasn’t what he was in the mood for.

  He kept the grip on her hair and broke the kiss, leaving her hungry and staring at him with big, wide eyes. He used the grip to steer her off the barstool and down the hall to his room. He kicked the door shut behind him and pushed her towards the bed. She caught herself on her hands and rolled onto her ass, looking up at him with the most amazing mix of terror and desire he’d ever seen.

  He made a low hum as he studied her. “So very many ways to use you,” Jacob said, studying the woman before him. “I could belt your ass. Whip your tits. Fuck your ass. Make you come even as you beg me to stop. God, there are so many fucking options.” He kissed her again, pressing her back and down, snarling into her mouth. She was too big now for him to easily fuck her this way, and on her back too long, she tended to get lightheaded. Sometimes, when he really wanted to eat her out, he’d push her back on pillows and savor the feeling of her belly as he fucked her pussy with his tongue. But all of that was more than he wanted to deal with right now. He just needed to let go.

  He yanked off her clothes, not caring when he heard seams pop. She pushed at him, trying to get him to stop, but her moans told him exactly what she needed. She was gushing wet, her thighs already slick when he pulled her panties down around her ankles. She’d decided a long time ago what she’d say if she actually needed him to stop; without that, she could fight back as much as she wanted, and he’d listen exactly as much as he wanted to. Generally, as much as he wanted to was not at all.

  When she tried to push his hands away from her breasts, he grabbed her hands. “Don’t try it,” he warned, his cock throbbing. “You’re mine, and I’m going to use you exactly the way I want.”

  She moaned again, her eyes closing and her hips shifting like she was desperately hungry to be filled. God, he loved how much she got off on being pushed like this.

  When she was stripped naked, he turned her so that she was on her hands and knees. He yanked his belt free; he wouldn’t be able to hold back for long, not as hard and aching as he was.

  He stripped down, his belt falling onto the floor, her gasps and whimpers at the tender burn in her flesh making him harder than he thought possible. He slammed his fingers into her again, groaning as she cried out and spasmed against his fingers.

  “Mmm, that’s right, bitch,” he said, his fingers twisting inside of her. “You know what you are, don’t you?”

  “Say it, please, fuck, say it,” she said, her head dropping down until it was resting on her bent forearms. He felt her cunt trembling around his fingers as he slammed into her. She was close, painfully close, and he loved keeping her dancing on the edge.

  “You’re my raped whore,” he snarled out, pressing his thumb into her clit and making her cry out again. “But it’s not really rape, is it?”

  Laurie was chanting curses as she pressed back on his hand, desperate for the next thing. He knew it would drive her over the edge, he knew how it made her scream, and he smiled to himself, dragging it out as long as he wanted. She wouldn’t come without it.

  He slid a third finger into her hungry, wet cunt, and said the thing she wanted to hear. “You can’t rape the willing.”

  Laurie screamed as she came around his fingers, the inner walls of her cunt rippling and squeezing at him, throbbing hard. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to distract himself just enough, or he might have lost control of himself. Thinking about the way she spasmed around his cock, in the same way, was delicious and more than delicious, and he wanted that next. He wanted that hard and angry and fast, but the best way to get her wet enough to do that was this. This.

  He kept his fingers moving softly until she came down from the pleasure, sagging onto her side. He gave her a moment while he cleaned his fingers off on his T-shirt, and then he laughed. “You don’t think I’m done with you yet, do you, bitch?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Laurie

  Laurie couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at his words. “God, I fucking hope not,” she said. Her cunt was aching, and her brain was still a little melty. He didn’t bring that word, bitch, into their sex often, but when he did, it always made her come screaming. It felt so good to know she didn’t have a single bit of control. She was entirely at his mercy, nothing but useful for him. Those were such good things to be.

  “Hands and knees then,” he said, and she pulled herself out of her loose-boned reverie so she could find the position he liked best for this. She could see how throbbing he was, his cock thick and purple, the veins prominent and gorgeous. He didn’t waste time; as soon as she was where he wanted her, he grabbed her hips, lined himself up, and slammed home. There wasn’t any time for her to prepare, but she didn’t need it. When he made her come first, she was slick and wet and open, and he was balls deep in
side of her on the second thrust. That in and of itself was enough to make her howl, but the slam of his hips on her ass was going to send her into a second aching orgasm before she could breathe.

  He was merciless in his fucking, brutal in her cunt. He was grunting and pulling at her, not giving a shit how she felt about any of it. That was the best part; feeling him just use her, making her into nothing but a toy, it felt incredible and humiliating and gorgeous and exactly what she wanted.

  He was already close; he always was when he used the belt on her. Thick and throbbing before he even got near her cunt. She was that sexy; that felt so good. He was straining to keep himself under control, she felt it in the furious motions of his body. He pressed his thumb hard into her clit, and it was more than enough to tip her over the edge again into something glorious. She cried out hard as the orgasm overtook her, and she felt him spasm as her cunt clenched at him, squeezing him. He pulled out just before he came, pushed her onto her back, and came all over her belly.

  “God, look at you,” he murmured, his hand sliding over his cock as he took her in. “You’re so gorgeous. Look at that belly, look at you. You’re incredible.”