Beyond Christmas (Corrupt Chaos MC #1.5)

by Bink Cummings

  My bottom lip trembles and the emotions win over as a monsoon of wetness trickles down my cheeks. I try to wipe them away, but they keep on coming. I can’t believe she did this. This is just too much.

  “Merry Christmas, sister,” Whisky says.

  I peer up from a picture of Whisky and me to meet her gaze. “Thank you for this,” I sniffle. “And Merry Christmas to you, too. This is so beautiful.”

  “Pip and I wanted you to have something to commemorate your first year with your new family.”

  “Well, it’s amazing.” A tear drops off my chin and onto my scrapbook. I swipe it away. “Thank you both so much.” I look over at Bridget, who has her own tears rolling down her cheeks. “I love you so much, you know? You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” Our gazes collide and we both begin to cry harder. I reach out to her for a hug. She meets me halfway to embrace and I kiss her cheek, muttering how much she means to me.

  When we finally pull away, my face is a mess and Bonez is standing there with a box of tissues, which he hands to us. “Thanks,” Bridget and I blubber in unison.

  “All right, show’s over. Time to hand out your presents,” Sniper declares, cuddling with his wife, who's also busy crying against his chest.

  Everyone follows his instruction and begin to hand out their presents. A pile quickly builds on the dirt floor in front of our feet. I can feel it. I know these people are going to make me cry again. Sheesh, what a Christmas.

  Lachlan leans over to kiss my temple and set one of the gifts in my lap. “For ye, lassie.”

  For the next hour, everyone unwraps their gifts, exchange thank yous, and clean up their trash. By the time I’m finished, I’m continuously overwhelmed and have a steady stream of tears rushing down my face. I’m not sure what’s more to take: the engagement ring, the scrapbook, or the fifteen other presents. Bonez bought me my very own helmet that’s purple and white, almost identical to Viola’s paint job. Bridget gave me a fuzzy pajama set with matching socks. Lachlan not only gave me my ring, but my very own leather jacket with a patch that says Leannan on the chest, right under another patch that says Mags, property of Smoke. It’s a subtler statement than Whisky’s leather coat that says property of Sniper on the back in huge lettering. I like this much better. Cas’s present to me was tools, which is funny because that’s what I bought him, too. From the rest of our family, I received a variety of goodies, from cookies to candies, socks, lotion, bandanas, and other heartwarming gifts.

  Lachlan and Bridget also made out on goodies. I wasn’t sure what to give Lachlan for Christmas, so I bought him a pair of Batman boxers as a joke, and on a more serious note, a tie blanket that I made him. Plus some other odds and ends. For Bridget, I gave her money and a daughter charm necklace. I know she’s not my daughter, but she might as well be. She must have loved it, because she cried a little as she put it on.

  Beside me, Bridget releases a pent up sigh and rubs her eyes. I’d know that sound anywhere—she’s thinking.

  “What’s up?” I nudge her leg with mine.

  “Fawn bought me a sexy pair of panties and a lacy bra … and…” She anxiously runs her hands over the tops of her thighs.

  “And that’s a problem? Why? You’re old enough to wear that kinda stuff.”

  “I know … but…”

  I take a shot in the dark. “But you want to wear them around a certain older gentleman, but can’t?”

  We haven’t had the Cas crush talk quite yet. With the holidays being crazy and her busy all the time, it hasn’t been brought up. And I’m not looking to embarrass her or put her on the spot, but I’m pretty sure that’s what she’s thinking. Her staring his way kind of cements that assumption, anyhow.

  I glance over to Lachlan, who’s helping someone throw trash away. The coast is clear for us to talk about this some more without him hearing.

  Bridget nods, frowning. “Are you mad?”

  “That you have a crush on Cas?” I whisper. “No.”

  “Ya know, for Christmas he offered to fix a car up for me. And he always wants to help me with this or that. Or trying to be all cool and friendly with me. But it’s hard to deal with him. I’m not sure what I feel, and I know I shouldn’t be feeling anything. But he drives me so crazy sometimes.”

  “Welcome to the world of men. You can’t live with ‘em, and you can’t live without ‘em.” I try to make light of the situation. I’m not going to encourage her infatuation with Cas, but I’m not worried, because I honestly believe he only looks at her as a family member. If he didn’t, I’d probably kick his butt. However, dealing with men isn’t easy. I’m still learning to deal with Lachlan on a daily basis. They really are different creatures than us females.

  “I know. Thanks.” Bridget peps up and kisses my cheek before standing. “I’m gonna go see if Whisky needs any help. I’ll see you two at home.”

  “Okay, have fun.” I wave her off.

  Sheesh, I can see a lot more boy talks in our near future. I just hope this crush dissipates fast and she finds someone her own age. If not, I’m not sure what’s going to happen. Guess we’ll just have to wait it out and see.

  After Lachlan throws the rest of the trash in the large bin behind us, he sits down beside me and tosses his new boxers into my lap. “I think I’d like ye tae wear these tonight.”

  I can’t help it when I laugh. Why doesn’t this surprise me? Guess we gotta put them to some use. Since I know Mr. Commando will never wear them. “You want me to wear your boxers?”

  “Aye. They’ll look better on ye. And be more fun when I take ‘em off.”

  Playfully, I knock my shoulder into his bicep and shake my head. “You and that dirty mind. Who ever knew you were such a horn dog?”

  He chuckles. “Not me. I guess ye make me that way.”

  Snickering, I lean into him and he rests his arm around me, cuddling me to his side. “I suppose I do. So what’s next?”

  Lachlan’s hand reaches up and he touches my chin, turning it so I face him. Our eyes meet. “The rest of our lives is what’s next, my leannan. And I’m gonna spend it with ye.”

  Dipping his head, our lips meet in a soft, soul seeping kiss. It spreads a soothing heat down my limbs and into the pit of my stomach, where it slow dances with the overactive butterflies to calm them down. I melt into him by climbing into his lap and straddling his hips to deepen our connection.

  “Merry Christmas, Lachlan,” I whisper to his mouth, before slowly tasting the seam of his lips with the tip of my tongue. Mmmmm…

  His hand curls around the back of my neck, holding my lips to his. “Merry Christmas, my future wife,” he groans before spearing his tongue into my mouth and languidly swirling it with mine.

  Mmmmm … yes … What a Merry Christmas it is.

  If you’re reading this, it means you finished Beyond Her Words and Beyond Christmas, and for that, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for following Lachlan and Mags on their journey to love. I had this novella planned since I was half way through BHW, because I knew you wouldn’t be able to get enough of Lachlan and Mags as an established couple in their first book. I hope you enjoyed this novella as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am surely going to miss Mags and Lachlan, but I do look forward to seeing them in future Corrupt Chaos novels, and possible MC Chronicle ones, too—I hope you feel the same.

  Stay tuned- Next on my publishing list is MC Chronicles #4.

  Peace, Bink

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  To spread a little Holiday love, here are some short excerpts from two of my favorite MC authors.

  Enjoy!

  Warning: This is not a "typical" romance. It's not even a typical MC Romance.

  Lust.

  Eight years ago, the Lost Kings, MC was recovering from turmoil within the club Wrath and Trinity met. Their connection was instant and explosive.

  Fury.

  Wrath and Trinity's story is a heart-breaking, soul-crushing, tear-your-heart-into-pieces story. The way they hurt each other over the years is intense, raw, frustrating and sometimes dark.

  Forgiveness.

  Can they move past their horrible pasts to become better people and ultimately forgive each other?

  They’ve wasted too many years. Once Wrath learns the dark secret that’s been fueling Trinity all this time, he’ll stop at nothing to prove they’re meant to be together and that she’s worthy of the love she keeps denying.

  Tattered on My Sleeve is a full-length novel. It is book #4 in the popular Lost Kings MC series, but it can be read first or as a stand-alone.

  Eight years ago…

  A zap of electricity shot through me when the blonde beauty behind the bar turned her head my way. How the hell was this chick planning to keep the peace at the Blue Fox Tavern?

  As long as we all behaved, the bar allowed everyone to wear their MC’s colors. But it was still a biker bar. If things got out of hand, I didn’t have much confidence the little cutie would be able to do much. Girl was gonna get hurt.

  Once I got over the shock of seeing the new bartender, I slipped my don’t-give-a-fuck face back on. My brothers, Rock and Zero, were right behind me. Brothers by choice. As in we belonged to the same MC. But to me, the bond we shared flowed deeper than any blood relation.

  The three of us sat at the bar. The sweet, bubbly demeanor the girl approached us with was completely out of place in the seedy hangout. The way her eyes roamed over us, assessing the level of danger we posed, made me rethink my first impression.

  “Hey, guys. What can I get you?”

  Her gaze skipped to our cuts and zeroed in on each of our patches. She looked me over last, and holy fuck, when our eyes met, my dick perked right up. For just a second, the hard, calculating gleam in her eyes softened into something vulnerable.

  The moment passed, and she swung her gaze back to Rock, whose patch read President.

  “Scotch neat, please, sweetheart,” he answered. His eyes were busy assessing her as well, but I didn’t get the feeling he wanted to take her in the back room and fuck her like he did with just about every other chick he met.

  As the vice president, she took Z’s order next. Finally, she returned to me.

  “Sergeant-at-arms, huh? The Wrecking Ball.”

  A slow grin spread across my face. I liked her. “I’ve been called worse.”

  “I’m sure you have. What would you like?”

  I wanted her, spread out on the bar in front of me. “Jack Daniels, neat,” I answered.

  The three of us were silent while we watched her work. Slapping the drinks down with a tired smile, she glanced at the clock. She turned back to us and cocked her head, checking out our officer patches again.

  “You have a shakeup in leadership? Your patches are so squeaky clean,” she teased in a husky voice.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Rock asked.

  A short, excessively curvy brunette jiggled into the space behind the bar and yelped, “Trinity! I’m so sorry I’m late!”

  The loud chick had herself stuffed into some sort of hot-pink tube top thing that didn’t flatter her as much as she probably thought.

  “It’s okay, Storm,” the blonde answered, even though her expression said otherwise.

  Storm? Aw, fuck.

  As if she heard my thought, Storm turned her big, brown, doe-eyed gaze our way and shrieked.

  “Oh, Trinity! These are the guys I was telling you about.” She yanked the blonde over to us by the elbow. Her hungry gaze zeroed in on Z right away, which was unfortunate for her because he was strictly hit-it-and-quit-it.

  The few times we’d met her, Rock and I had picked up a definite undercurrent of desperation with this broad. Even though we let her party at our clubhouse, we’d both been smart enough to steer clear of her bear-trap pussy.

  Trinity seemed less than impressed. I wondered what sort of stories Storm had been spinning about us.

  “Can I stop by after work, guys?” Storm asked.

  Rock answered quick. “No. There’ll be a full house tomorrow. Stop by then, hon.”

  Her face fell, then brightened at the invitation. I glanced down the bar at Z, who looked ready to choke our prez. I couldn’t wait to give him shit later.

  I finished my drink and got up to take a walk around the place. Rock’s meeting was with a crew we hadn’t established a lot of trust with yet. My job was to check things out before they got here. Keep the place secure. Make sure nothing happened to my president.

  Back corner booth. That was where the meeting needed to go down. As I pulled a chair over, a breathy voice behind me called out, “Hold on. I haven’t cleaned that yet.”

  Trinity rushed over with a rag and wiped the most recent stickiness from the tabletop. I’m only human, so while she was busy cleaning, I checked out her pleasantly round ass. My fingers flexed as I imagined how perfectly her cheeks would fit my hands. For a biker chick, she was awfully conservative. I spotted what looked like two tank tops. Black on top, bright pink underneath. No thong or tramp stamp peeking out when she bent over—I think I liked that part most.

  She finished and spun around. Too bad my eyes were slow to react. She definitely caught me checking out her ass. I wasn’t ashamed, though, because shame’s never been an emotion I wasted my time on. Besides, now my gaze was fixed on something even more exciting—her tits all pushed up and spilling out of her shirt.

  It was difficult, but I looked up into her honey-colored eyes. How had I missed that color before? Or was it just the strange amber lighting we were standing under in the otherwise dark corner? “Is Trinity a road name or your legal one?”

  “Real. My mother had me during her Catholic phase.”

  I snorted a laugh. “How’s that working out for you?”

  “Well, I’m tending bar at a biker hangout, so what do you think?”

  “I think things worked out well. For me, anyway.”

  Yeah, that one was lame. But it got a genuine smile out of her, which had been my goal.

  “So, Wrecking Ball, I don’t know your name.”

  “Wrath.”

  She fake-shivered and made a brrrr sound with her sexy-as-fuck lips. “Scary. Are you an angry fellow?”

  Man, I liked this girl. She didn’t say a lot, but when she spoke, she was a flirty little bitch. She clearly put up walls to keep guys like me at arm’s length, and that made me want her even more.

  “Not tonight. You got an ol’ man?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Fuck no.” Then she looked me straight in the eyes, practically daring me. “And I’m not looking for one either.”

  Wrath. His name should have been lust, because that was the deadly sin burning through me when I looked up—way up—into his ocean-blue eyes. I should’ve gotten the fuck out of there. My shift was up. Storm finally had her annoying ass slinging drinks. But curiosity chained me to the bar.

  I should’ve despised bikers. I should’ve most definitely steered clear of this one, with his thick, muscled arms and low, sensual voice.

  My normally impeccable self-preservation instinct seemed to be on the fritz.

  “Well, that’s good to hear. I’m not looking for an ol’ lady.”
<
br />   “I’m not looking for a hookup either. If you don’t mind, my shift is over.”

  Actually, I wouldn’t mind a hook-up with all three of them. Maybe not the president; there was something about him that triggered a warm, brotherly memory. Which was weird because I was an only child. But the other two, yeah, I would definitely be down to—

  “Trinity!” Storm yelped from behind the bar.

  “Christ.”

  I forgot about the Wrecking Ball and stomped over to the bar.

  Tattered on My Sleeve (Lost Kings MC #4) can be read first in the series or as a stand-alone.

  Digital Edition ISBN: 978-0-9907945-6-1

  Copyright 2015 © Autumn Jones Lake

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction.

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  DIRTY

  BY: AC BEXTOR

  Leaning my body against the door Aimes shut seconds ago, I stare at Em. My hands are braced behind me. If I leave them unrestrained, they’ll act on their own accord and grab her with more force than I’d mean to.

  The anger stirring inside, knowing Aimes, of all people, had her with him, fuels a possessive fury I’ve never known before when it came to women. The ache to touch her, guard and protect her, was powerful, and I didn’t know what to do with the frustration I felt wanting to be near her.