by Jc Emery
JC Emery
Left Break Press
Series & Titles by JC Emery
Men with Badges
Marital Bitch
The Switch
The Birthright Series
Anomaly
Bayonet Scars
Ride
Thrash
Rev (coming soon)
Thrash
a Bayonet Scars novel
by
JC Emery
Copyright 2014 by Left Break Press
Smashwords Edition
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
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Cover Design by Brenda Gonet at Gonet Design
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Edited by Rachel Bateman at Metamorphosis Books
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LONELINESS SUFFOCATES THE HEART. ACCEPTANCE BREAKS DOWN WALLS.
As a Lost Girl to the Forsaken Motorcycle Club, Nicole Whelan knows how to party. She’s not cut-out for relationships and her life is way too complicated for anything more than casual encounters. But one night when she falls into Duke’s bed at the clubhouse, he sees something in her that he can’t let go of—no matter how many times she tries to run.
Having been left to raise her teenage brother, Jeremy, she’s already got her hands full and isn’t looking for anymore complications. But Duke’s just watched his best friend fall for the only girl he couldn’t have, and then almost lose her so shortly after, shaking him to his core. Faced with his own loneliness, he’s more determined than ever to break down Nic’s walls and show her that he can be good for her; but he’s got a bad track record and she’s got a bad temper. Changing his ways isn’t easy when he’s not sure what he’s even changing for.
The violence and turmoil are at an all-time high, and Forsaken is in a vulnerable place when a twist of fate breathes new life into the club. It’s a much-needed beacon of hope for the embattled biker family, even if everyone’s not exactly on board. With Duke and Nic’s relationship already on shaky ground, and something even more important at stake, the Forsaken Motorcycle Club will fight like hell to keep their family together and whole.
Love is never more precious than when it’s new.
For Dawn,
Because nobody else would let me turn them into a total slut
Prologue
EVERYTHING IS FUCKED up. The room tilts slightly—or maybe it’s me—and the edges of everything around me is fuzzy. Maybe I drank too much this time. No, scratch that, I know I drank too much this time. Being here, with him, should be my first clue that I fucked up and went too far. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this, not with him. This is what happens when I drink too much. I make poor decisions. This time my poor decision has an all-too-familiar name: Duke.
He’s been trying to fuck me for years and I’ve always lied through my teeth and let him think that I wasn’t interested. If he knew about the stupid crush I’ve been harboring for him after all these years, I wouldn’t have been able to keep him off of me for this long. He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.
It doesn’t matter what-- or who-- he’s doing. Every night we’re both here, we hang out for a while. Usually, it’s me sitting in silence drinking my beer, and it’s Duke telling me I should suck his dick-- to which I decline. But he’s here and it’s a routine I’ve come to appreciate. It’s not much, but it’s something. And until now, it’s always been enough.
Maybe just for one night I want to let myself indulge in the fantasy.
He holds my hand in his, atop his bent knee. I’m leaning into him, an arm on the top of the bar to hold myself upright, my ass is scooted to the edge of the barstool. Duke’s blue eyes are bloodshot and hazy. Small lines appear on the sides from the smile on his face. I try to smile back, but I probably look like a stroke victim. Everything keeps tilting. It’s really not fair because it makes it harder to really see him. He’s all thick neck and goatee and short blond hair and sex. And I’ve seen him make other Lost Girls come. They scream their brains out as he fucks them hard. And tonight it’s my turn. Tonight, it’s like Christmas and I’m about to get a present that is going to make it hard to walk for the next two days.
I try to focus on the beer bottle as he brings it to his lips. I can’t quite read the label on the side. It’s less than a foot away, but everything I look at seems backwards, but not backwards at the same time. Damn, I’m fucked up. He tips his head back, and gulps down what’s left in the bottle. Sitting the empty on the bar, Duke licks the beer off his lips. It’s almost like he’s teasing me with every part of his body I’ve fantasized about for so long, but have never given myself the right to have. I don’t realize I’m biting my lip until it hurts. He smirks and pulls my lip away from my teeth.
We’ve never been here before. This close. It’s unnerving.
“You’ve been a hard one to catch,” he says. I purse my lips and smile at him. Duke has always been the kind of guy that people are just naturally drawn to. Ever since the first time I saw him freshman year of high school, I’ve had a thing for him. But Duke likes to fuck around and play mind games and that’s a surefire way to get my heart broken. So, no thank you.
But right now he’s all muscles and goatee and smooth talking, and I’m all drunk and relaxed, and up for anything. So, yes please.
“Let’s go,” he says, standing from his position on the stool. He gives my hand a slight tug, encouraging me to move. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. I list myself off the seat and move to step down, but somehow lose my footing and slip toward the floor. A strong arm catches me on my way down, pulling me against a mass of warmth wrapped in leather and jeans.
Holding me up, Duke leads us through the main room of the Forsaken Motorcycle Club’s clubhouse, and down a long hallway with doors on both sides. At the very end of the hall are the double doors to the chapel. I’ve never been in there. If there’s anything sacred to an outlaw motorcycle club, it’s the chapel. On the left side is the palace, which I admit with no great amount of pride, that I’ve danced half naked in a time or two. The other doors lead to bedrooms which serve as crash pads for club members, and I know exactly which rooms belongs to which brother. All Lost Girls know that.
We stop at the third door on the right which Duke was gifted when he earned his officer patch as SECRETARY. He reaches out, twists the handle and lets the door swing open. The room is dimly lit and reeks of body odor, which is not uncommon. With his hand on my lower back, he encourages me into the room with a gentle push. I blow out a deep breath and walk in, shrugging off my reservations.
This is what we do. It’s nothing really. The club, the girls. We drink, and fuck, and pass out. But Duke and I have a history, and I told myself I wouldn’t do this—not with the man who used to be the boy who I once thought hung the moon. But now I know better. He’ll be all about me for a minute before he tosses
me aside, just like he’s done to every girl who’s come before me.
As the door clicks shut behind me, I decide that all of this overthinking is bullshit. I knew what I was doing when I showed up tonight. After the bullshit with Jeremy at school today, I needed the release, so I showed up at the clubhouse. This was the whole point of coming, wasn’t it? To fuck and forget—to let the entire world dissolve into a vacuum of feeling devoid of worry?
Fuck it.
I spin around to face Duke, giving him a smile that’s a total goddamn lie. After all this time, the idea of being with Duke puts my nerves on edge. I’ve thought about this moment for so long that I almost can’t believe it’s really happening. He lifts his chin just slightly, making his goatee look longer than it is. Before I can stop myself, I lunge at him. Leaping into the air, my hands latch onto his shoulders and as smoothly as I can, I wrap my legs around his waist. Immediately, he grabs at my ass, keeping me in the air. Now firm in his arms, I move my hands to the sides of his neck and pull his face to mine. I press my lips to his, and don’t have to wait for him to catch up. If there’s one thing I’ve heard about Duke, it’s that he knows how to fuck.
A jolt of what I can only describe as pure electricity runs through me at the touch of his lips on mine. He presses down, relentless in his pursuit. His lips are rougher than I expect, but not entirely unwelcome. I open my mouth, inviting him in. Just like I knew he’d be, Duke takes every invitation I extend. Pushing my pelvis into his, a low growl erupts from deep in his throat as his hands clamp down on my pliant flesh. A moan escapes me at the contact.
A frenzied mess of limbs, we tumble onto the nearby queen-sized bed, bouncing into the air and completely disregarding of the noise we make. For even a brief few hours it’s nice to be so free and so out of control. All the jostling makes it difficult to breathe for a minute. The mattress protests in squeaks beneath us as Duke covers my body with his, trailing a hand down my side. He’s going so slow, and I’m just not used to it. I can’t tell if I like it or not, but I know better than to step out of my place.
I bring one of my arms up and beneath my head, and prop my head up on it so I can see exactly what he’s doing. His tattooed hand grips the top of my jeans before deftly flicking the button loose and pulling them down with one strong, commanding tug. I’ve spent years watching his moves, but it’s an entirely different thing when the focus is on me. No stranger to the palace and all the debauchery that goes on in that place, I’ve seen Duke take women out in the open. He’s never been shy, that’s for sure.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. Realizing I’ve been staring off into space, I shake my head and look down at him. My pants are around my ankles, his hand still around the bunched material as if he stopped in mid-pull. His blond hair, shorter than he normally keeps it, falls into his piercing eyes as he stares me down.
“Nothing,” I say and buck my hips up to him in encouragement. For a moment I think he might argue, but he doesn’t. Pulling off my jeans the rest of the way, and tossing them across the room, he lets out a heavy sigh. His mood’s changing for reasons I can’t even fathom. If I thought he was moving slowly before, I was wrong. Now he moves at a turtle speed as he kisses his way up my legs, alternating between the two, but staying toward the middle. Finally, he lands a kiss on the center of my black thong panties. Having been so attentive the entire night, now he keeps his eyes lowered as he grips the sides of my thong and slowly pulls it down.
Without lifting his head, he crawls up my body, letting his nose drag along my flesh. I didn’t know he would be this slow with me. He’s not been slow the few times I’ve seen him in action, not that watching Duke have sex is something I’m prone to doing. It’s just something that happens around here.
I try to pull my mind out of that awkward place it keeps going to—remembering everything he’s done with other women, and thinking about how it compares to what he’s doing with me. I’m such a mess, I’m starting to wonder if getting off is even worth all the trouble this shit is causing me. I mean, I told myself I wouldn’t fucking do this with him for a reason. I’m way too attached. And when everything little memory and all of the worry gets too much to take, I decide to mentally check out and be goddamn done with all of the “what if” crap that I’m usually so good at pushing out of my head.
Sitting up, he scoots back to avoid getting knocked in the face with my elbow. Quickly, I pull my bra tank over my head and toss it across the room then reposition my legs beneath me and pull him up to me. Propped up on my legs, I use his heavy torso as leverage to keep myself steady. Running my hands up and down his leather cut, I try to ignore that little voice in the back of my head that reminds me how very much I am like the woman I hate so much: my mother. She always had a thing for bikers, and much less a thing for motherhood as evidenced by her departure all those years ago.
“If you’re not into this, I’ll get someone else,” he says. My head snaps up, eyes finding his, and I give him my best mean face. He gives me a serious look and says, “But I want you.”
“I was trying not to puke on the leather. You don’t have to be a dick,” I say. A kaleidoscope of butterflies erupts in my belly at that comment. The hint of a smile forms and he grips my sides, then in a surprise move, drops backwards and pulls me on top of him. I was buying time when I told him I was trying not to puke, but now I’m not lying anymore. The world spins around me as I hold onto him tight. His body shakes beneath mine and when I can see steady once again I notice that he’s on his back and I’m straddling his lap. Totally naked and bared to him, I remind myself that I’ve done this more times than I can count. He’s Forsaken, and I’m a Lost Girl. It’s who we are and this is what we do. I have zero reason to be weird about this. Except that he’s not just some random guy. He’s charming, and he’s funny. And he’s Duke.
Taking the front of his cut and gently pulling it off his shoulders, a disturbingly loud cell phone rings, startling me. Duke’s eyes narrow as he grumbles something about his dick and then manages to yank the offensive object out of his pocket. Flipping open the phone, he brings it to his ear.
“Yeah? Now? Fuck. Yeah, just gimme five?” he says into the phone, flips it shut, and tosses it beside us on the bed. Throwing one of his muscles arms down on the bed he curses and then bucks his hips. I grip the leather of his vest tightly and go to move off of him but his hands find their way to my hips, keeping me in place.
“We just have to be quick, baby,” he says. Reaching over, he pulls a condom off the side table and sets it down beside him. Leaning back, I pop open the button of his jeans and pull down the zipper. Just as I’m freeing him from his constraints, one of his hands finds its way to my center. His thumb parts my folds and rubs me in small circles until my thighs clench tightly into his hips. The room feels so cool, every slight gust of wind that moves past me sends chills up my spine. Gooseflesh covers me from head to toe.
“I could watch this shit for days,” he says in a husky voice. As much as I want to see looks of wanton desire in his eyes, I don’t risk losing the building euphoria I have going on. My mind, shoulders, and soul feel a little lighter the longer he attends to me for. Breaking from the rhythm he’s created, Duke speeds up his ministrations, applying more pressure and sending me to the edge. I toss my head back, my body locks up, and for a brief moment, nothing—not even me—exists. And I’m floating. When I come back down to earth, I pry my eyes open to see Duke ripping the wrapper open with his teeth and then rolling the condom down his shaft.
Not giving myself a chance to change my mind, not that with the way my body responded to just the pad of his thumb I’m doubting much, I pull myself up his body and sink down onto him. Moving at first slow and steady, then fast and relentlessly, I slide myself up and down his length. Keeping my eyes trained on his face, I watch as he locks his jaw up and his breath catches. Bringing his hips up to meet mine, he drives himself into my core, making me gasp for air. It isn’t long before we’re a sweaty mess. His thumb starts with
the circles again and the combination of everything he’s doing to my body is too much to take. I clamp down around him as tight as I can while bringing one hand behind me and cupping his balls. His movements still as his eyes fly to the back of his head and his body goes still, and his muscles turn to stone beneath me.
I give us both a moment to come down from our highs before I give his chest a soft pat and slide off of him. His eyes pop open with a cloud of confusion beneath the surface before he washes it all away and just like always he’s back to being the bad-ass I know he’s always had to be.
On shaky legs, I stand beside the bed, watching as he tears the condom off and tosses it in a nearby trash bin and then zips his jeans up. Blowing out a deep breath, he stands, and pulls me to him. Cupping my face in his hands, he slams his lips against mine. This time I expect the power behind his touch and his rough lips. Duke has always been like a gravitational pull that I can’t escape, but knowing how his lips feel on mine is going to be a difficult thing to ignore.
“I gotta go, but when I get back…” he trails off and then shoves his hand down between us and slides one of his fingers between my wet folds. “This is mine. We clear?”
“Excuse me?” I say, stumbling over the words. A gasp escapes me as he uses his thumb to rub my swollen nub and then hooks his finger inside of me. My hands fly up to his chest to keep myself steady and my eyes fall back in my head. The only thing I can do is focus on the incredible feeling that he’s creating with his hand, and not on the words he’s said.