by Sam Crescent
EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2018 Sam Crescent
ISBN: 978-1-77339-632-3
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
I want to say a big thank you to all of my amazing readers. For a long time you have asked for a longer book, and well, I hope you like this one. The Biker's Baby holds a special place in my heart.
THE BIKER’S BABY
Sam Crescent
Copyright © 2018
Chapter One
Gunner stared down at the slut that was licking his dick. She was just a regular club whore who thought she could bag herself an old man or at least a club patch. A lot of his men liked her, but he was finding her a little too bland for his taste. She was twentysomething and had a mouth like a fucking suction cup. Her mouth bored the shit out of him, and he was losing his erection fast. Her blonde hair was dyed, and the feel of it in his hand was greasy as fuck.
He usually liked to use the club whores. They distracted him from some of the tough decisions he had to make or when he just wanted a few moments of peace. Right now, that wasn’t the case.
“Get the fuck off,” he said, pushing her away and tucking his dick back into his pants. Running a hand down his face, he tried to clear the anger from his mind, but that didn’t help.
“I can do better. Please, Prez, I want to please you.” She ran her hands up and down his thighs. Since he was the Prez of the Satan’s Demons MC, they all wanted to please him.
“If you don’t get the fuck out of my office in the next ten seconds, I’ll make sure that you don’t touch another club dick.”
She was already scurrying away. Leaning back in his chair, he released a breath. He didn’t know what it was. The young women used to do something for him. He liked their need to please, to make their place known. The men were all over them, including the married men.
If his men wanted to break their marriage vows, that was on them. When he had been married, he wasn’t a saint. He wouldn’t judge any man on how he lived his life. He had two teenage boys himself, and both of them were fucking nightmares. Even now, in high school, they were constantly after pussy like two horny teenagers usually were. It did fill him with a little pride knowing his boys liked to fuck and were not into hearts and flowers. At least they knew to bag their shit up because he wouldn’t stand for anything less, not in his house. He wasn’t going to have any unplanned brats around his place.
“You want to tell me why you sent that piece of ass away?” Kent asked.
He looked up at his VP, who was leaning against the door. “Wasn’t interested.” When it came to Kent, he didn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him, which was one of the reasons he’d made him VP. Keeping his enemy close.
Kent had wanted to take the Prez’s patch, but when Gunner himself got the patch, Kent seemed to step down. There were times he saw something in Kent’s eyes, and that feeling in his gut never went away, not when it came to this man.
The MC were strong together, but that didn’t mean there weren’t men who wanted to take his place.
“I get it. She probably tasted of another man’s cum. From what the guys tell me she does nothing but talk, which is why they’re always putting her mouth to good use.”
Gunner wrinkled his nose. “I do not need to hear that.”
“Maybe you’re getting old.”
“I can fucking take you, so don’t start that shit.”
Kent burst out laughing, but there was a bitter edge to it. “That’s never in question.”
“Isn’t it?” He stared at Kent long enough to watch the other man withdraw. So far Kent didn’t have the balls to take him on. “You think I’m ready to settle down.”
“Or maybe you’ve had your eyes on a certain brunette that comes around sometimes.”
Gunner stared at the man across from him and didn’t say a word. He knew instantly who he was talking about. Scarlett Williams wasn’t a club whore, nor did she have anything to do with the club. She was a thirty-year-old, sweet as they come, curvy woman who was also the wife of one of the club’s close friends, John.
Gunner and John had served in the military together. Rather than join the club, John continued his college education and was now an accountant with his own firm in town. He’d once had big plans of city life. That had all ceased when he caught sight of Scarlett. Gunner couldn’t blame him.
Scarlett was a mystery to him.
She was all fire and sweetness mixed into one. The men adored her, though of course many believed she was way too sweet for the club life. Not only that, she did have a husband.
He didn’t like to think of Scarlett in his bed, not when he cared about John. His friend always had his back, and there was no way in hell that he’d ever hurt his best friend.
John would have been one of the best club members. He was loyal and fierce as fuck.
“What do you want, Kent?”
“Was wondering if you got word from John. He called an hour ago. Wants to talk to you.”
Gunner sat up. He had John going through the books of all the club businesses, legal and not. The not-legal shit John was keeping to himself.
“Why didn’t I get notified ASAP?” He stood up, grabbing his jacket.
For most of the day he’d been out on the road, going over his businesses, and he’d not even taken a shower.
It was late, which meant he’d have to go to John’s home. Just thinking about it sent a shock of excitement through him.
“You were kind of busy, Prez. We all know that Elle wanted to give it to you.” Kent gave him a wink.
This was just another reason that he didn’t trust Kent. There were times when he was dealing business within the club that fine little details would slip Kent’s mind. In fact, on some occasions when he’d been interrogating, Kent would shoot the bastards dead before they could breathe a word. Gunner had his doubts about Kent’s loyalty, but he couldn’t make a case to the club when he didn’t have any solid proof to back up his … hunches.
“I don’t want her anywhere near me.” She was nothing more than a cum bucket, and some chicks got off on being that, but not him. He didn’t want to deal with a hospital trip.
A few years ago, most of the club ended up with the fucking clap. He’d been royally pissed. He always bagged his shit up, apart from when he’d been with his wife, who was now his ex, and even then, he’d rarely dipped his dick in bare.
“She’s quick and easy,” Kent said. “Thought you’d like the release? Something to help take your mind off shit.”
He stepped up to Kent, getting in the man’s space. He had a good foot on Kent, and even though he was older, he had a lot more muscle and knew how to use it. “What you doing that needs my mind taking off shit?”
“Just being a good guy here, boss. You got a screw loose or something to think there’s anything wrong.”
“Fuck off, Kent.” He moved the man out of his office and locked the door. Until he got to the bottom of the stealing from his stash, no one was allowed in his office. “Call me if you need me.” There wouldn’t be any calls. There rarely were.
He nodded at Kent and several of his men as he passed. Most of them had their dicks in women t
hat were not their wives. They saluted him with a beer, and he nodded at them.
For the most part, this club was his life. He had his two boys, the businesses, and the club, but that was it. When he’d taken over, the club had been complete and utter shit. Drugs, booze, skanks, and Feds breathing down their neck about their personal business and their involvement with the guns and drugs. If it hadn’t been for him there wouldn’t be a club.
For over ten years he’d done the wife thing as well, but that hadn’t stuck. Cherry had been an awful wife. She’d slept with more men than he’d even looked at women. It was pathetic, really.
They’d been the worst ten years of his fucking life, and he had no wish to repeat them, not ever.
Leaving the clubhouse, he headed straight to his bike, straddling the little beauty before gunning out of the parking lot. No one asked him any questions.
He was the Prez, and he did what he wanted to.
He’d earned his patch more than twenty years ago, taking the club from a two-bit drug dealer and child molester. Since he’d taken charge, the club had gone from strength to strength. The Feds couldn’t pin anything on them. He kept their business locked up tight.
There had been challenges along the way. Big ones. He’d taken every single one of them. The men who’d accepted he’d won had kept their lives and moved on while still being within the club. Those that didn’t accept it were buried six feet under in the clubhouse yard. In his world the only way to survive was to take out the enemy, and he’d done that. Piece by piece, the club now belonged to him.
Satan’s Demons MC was his baby.
He’d brought it back from total destruction.
But now someone was stealing from him, and that shit didn’t set well with him at all.
Whoever it was, he was going to make sure that they paid, and that the entire club knew of the shit that was happening.
Twenty minutes later, he found the modest house that his friend lived in. He knew John had wanted something bigger, but Scarlett didn’t like for him to think she was after his money. She was happy with their home, and that was what she’d made even though John could afford bigger.
Parking his bike next to John’s top range car, he made his way to the door.
Knocking hard, he waited.
And there she stood with one of the prettiest smiles on her face.
“Gunner,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”
She stepped back, giving him room to enter. The moment he did the scent of cinnamon cookies filled his senses. “You’ve been baking?”
“Always. You know the kids love it.” She chuckled.
She helped at the local day care center where busy parents brought their kids. The center was for kids younger than five.
“You’re here to see John? He’s in his office. He said to send you straight to him when you arrived.”
“He didn’t even know if I was going to turn up.”
She chuckled. “I’ll make you a drink. What would you like?”
“Coffee would be great.”
“Coming right up.”
He watched her walk down the small corridor. The sway of her ass in those tight jeans doing things to his cock that the young bitch’s mouth hadn’t been able to. Pushing aside those dirty thoughts for his best friend’s wife, he found John looking through paperwork.
****
“You need to learn to get a life,” Gunner said.
John smiled as he looked up. “I have a life. Not a lot of people get it.”
“It’s all the numbers and shit. Boring as fuck.”
“To you, maybe. To me they tell a shitload of other details.”
“Like?”
“Like someone is stealing from you, and it looks like it’s an inside job. Not only that, they’re stealing from both of your … dealings.”
John watched as Gunner cursed and entered his office. The man before him went from joking around to all seriousness. “I fucking knew it.”
His friend was not one to mince his words.
“Any way of finding out who?” Gunner asked.
“I’m working on that. They’re clever. Never take too much, always odd amounts here or there. Give me time, and I’ll go through the numbers every single evening.”
“That’s a lot of work.”
“Well, you’re a friend and you’re paying me, so we’ll call it even. It just means you’re going to have to stop by here every single night, and I can go through the lists and see. What made you realize money was missing?”
“The money from the paperwork was never the same as the money in the bank or the safe. Over time it starts to add up, and I can’t see that kind of cash popping up anywhere. I need to know who is stealing and why.”
“Yeah, whoever it is either didn’t think or doesn’t have time or opportunity to doctor your main books.” He looked over at Gunner, who was glaring. “I called you a couple of hours ago. This work is for someone else. Kent said you were busy with a special lady. Someone I know?”
Gunner snorted. “There was nothing special about her, believe me. Was bored and couldn’t even get it up. Half the club uses her.”
John chuckled. “Charming.”
“That’s what I thought. You know how the club is.”
“I do, which is why I’m more than content with my very beautiful wife.” Thinking about Scarlett dropped his smile, though. Realizing that Gunner saw everything, he forced it back up. “You need to find yourself a good woman.”
“What’s going on?” Gunner asked.
“Nothing.”
“I saw that look. You can’t keep that kind of shit from me.”
They had served together, been through a lot, and there was a time that he’d had every single intention of helping Gunner in the club. He’d have been his VP, and none of this shit would be happening right now.
He’d met Scarlett, and the rest had been history.
Marrying her, making a life with her, had been more important than joining any club.
“Are things okay between you and Scarlett?” Gunner asked.
John wasn’t an asshole, nor was he blind to Gunner’s interest in his wife. He also knew that his wife was completely clueless to it. She was always her usual sweet self, and he adored that about her. He loved that she was his sweet wife outside the bedroom, and when the door closed and they were alone, he got to feel and possess all of her fire.
Every man wanted one; a lady in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom.
He got the best of both worlds.
Just lately, something had been missing though. No matter what they did in the bedroom, it would all end in tears, and it was starting to put a strain on their marriage. They’d learned that he couldn’t have children.
Scarlett wanted children, lots of them.
She’d refused to grant him a divorce, and when he’d tried to leave her, she’d begged him not to, that she loved him.
Since finding out he couldn’t give her children, it had messed something up inside his head, and now he couldn’t … get past it. She said working at the day care center was all she needed.
When he went to visit her though, he saw the love she had for all those kids. The way she looked when she held one of them or as they talked to her. He couldn’t get that shit out of his mind. She wanted a kid, and that was the one thing he couldn’t give her.
A brand-new, bigger house? Yes.
A top-of-the-line car? Yes.
A newly designed kitchen? Yes.
Anything that money could buy could be hers.
She didn’t want it.
The money helped life, but she wasn’t a woman that needed it. She’d lived a simple life on the poverty line when he’d found her.
The one thing he couldn’t give her was the one thing she wanted: children.
“We’re doing fine, Gunner.”
“That’s not what I asked, and you know it.”
John blew out a breath. “I don’t know what you want me to
say. Scarlett and I, we’re doing good. Really good. We … are just having some bumps.”
“Bumps? John, for fuck’s sake. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what the problem is, okay. I’m not wired the way you fuckers are.”
“I can’t have kids,” John said, finally telling his friend the truth. “That’s the crux of the matter. I can’t have babies, and she wants them. Only now…” He stopped and gritted his teeth. “Only now she’s decided not to have any because she loves me more than having any possible kids that we could have.” That for him hurt more than anything.
“What about adoption?”
“We’ve not talked about that option yet. We’re still … kind of … dealing with this new wave of information.”
“Could they be wrong?” Gunner asked.
“I had three doctors tell me that I can’t have kids. That I’m firing blanks and probably have been for years. I can’t get her pregnant.” There was a knock on the door. Scarlett always knocked when he had clients in his home. She never just barged in. “Don’t say anything to her, please. She’s, we’re … handling it.” He called for her to come in, and there she was, perfection.
He’d caught sight of her across the street nearly ten years ago. He’d been thirty-five years old at the time. Not long home from deployment, getting himself back on his feet once again. They had said it would be his last mission, but he’d been planning and preparing to put in for another assignment when he caught sight of her.
Her brown hair had been a mess, piled on top of her head. Her clothes had been well worn, and to anyone looking at her, they could tell she struggled every single day. What struck him the most was she was the only person that day to reach into her pockets and hand a homeless man some change. It was probably all the money she had on her, but she’d given it to a stranger.
John had known then that he wanted to get to know her. He’d chased her down the street, and after nearly terrifying her, asked her out to coffee.