Full Heat: A Brothers of Mayhem Novel

by Carla Swafford

  A hand stuck in his field of vision drew his attention up. “How about we call it even?” Easy’s smug look dared Storm to strike. “Son?”

  Yep. Push it, asshole.

  Fury churned in his gut. The man had never been a dad, unless all dads beat their wives to a pulp and slapped their kids around.

  The need to hit the old man built, but he stood to leave without a word. Yet he was unable to resist slamming his shoulder into the old man’s, knocking him out of the way.

  As Storm expected, Easy burst out laughing like a maniac. Definitely, a good word to describe him.

  Later, with the party in full swing, women appeared to come out of the woodwork. The scene brought so many memories to mind from when he was a kid. His sister had loved to party with the Brothers until things went horribly wrong and her boyfriend had died. That had also been when he got sick from drinking the leftover bottle of whiskey he’d found laying around.

  His sister had loved him. Cassidy had tried her best to keep him from the Brothers of Mayhem the last few years before he was sent to the big house. She even wrote to him while he was there. When he’d gotten out, he’d sent Wolf to the little town in Oregon where the post office box number was located. He’d wanted to see if she was okay and persuade her to come back to Alabama. Wolf discovered she’d moved without a forwarding address, and Storm hadn’t heard from her in the months he’d been out.

  Family would let a person down, but the Brothers took care of their own. He’d heard that all his life, and it appeared to be true.

  “Hey, boy.”

  Shit! He hated it when Speed called him that. But he guessed it was a habit, and he was old as dirt. To him, everyone was a boy. Besides, he was the Skull. He could call him dipshit and there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it.

  “What can I do for you, Skull?”

  “I heard that you got some prime pussy waiting upstairs. Bring her down and let us get a look.” Flushed, Speed swayed as he waited.

  From all appearances, Speed and Easy had been drinking for the last few hours. Storm didn’t want to inflict on Mary Jane the crudeness and cruelty that could immerse a Brothers of Mayhem party.

  “She’s a client. Best for her to stay where she’s at.”

  Speed crossed his arms and leaned his head back.

  Damn. He was going to be hardheaded about it.

  “I heard she slept in your room last night. I want to see the woman that can get your cock out. Bring her down now.”

  Storm didn’t look around. He knew what everyone said about him, how prison had screwed up his mind. Several of the bitches that hung around the club had offered him a ride after giving him a blowjob. He’d forced them to follow his no-touch rules, and most never asked for a second round. Only one kept coming back.

  Loosey Lynda had the looks he normally gravitated to with her big tits and soft curves, and he’d fucked her more than once, but she also had a big mouth and enjoyed spreading the news about his strange fucking quirks. She wouldn’t shut up until he kicked her out of the clubhouse. That was when he put his foot down about women in the clubhouse. It ticked everyone off, but he finally could get away from the bitch without killing her.

  “Speed, I’m not fucking her. She’s paying me to protect her from the Thirty-Second gang. It’s how we bring money into the club without being arrested every time you turn around. I don’t want to fuck up the business we got started.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you want. Get her down here,” Speed said as they stood almost nose to nose. Storm held back from wiping the spit off his skin.

  “Sure, Skull.” Without recourse, he walked toward the stairs. Once he was out of sight, he smashed a fist through the Sheetrock lining the stairwell.

  Chapter 7

  “You suck real good.” Wolf’s deep voice came through the door. Those words caught Storm’s attention. He stood in the hallway, hand on doorknob, trying to decide how he could brace Mary Jane for what was to come.

  “Hey, it’s hard. What did you expect from a girl who grew up in a commune?” Mary Jane’s giggle was sexy as fuck.

  He hoped like hell he misunderstood what was going on. There’d better be an innocent explanation, but Wolf was usually anything but blameless. What was he thinking letting a womanizer like Wolf stand guard? His VP or not, he could easily be described as a manwhore.

  Damn it to hell! Wolf talked many of the women who hung around out of their panties. Imagining Mary Jane squeezing and pumping Wolf’s cock brought a saturation of red-hot anger. He wanted Mary Jane’s mouth on his cock and no one else’s. Balling up his fists, he wanted to beat the shit out of Wolf.

  With a hard shove he opened the door.

  Heads jerked around and then quickly returned to watching the screen. A videogame. From the score, Wolf was winning by a landslide. Fine. That explained it. Then why wasn’t his jealousy dissipating?

  “Savalas, go downstairs and keep an eye on Easy,” he said, trying to keep his voice at a normal level, but calling him by his surname gave away his anger. Damn it.

  “Sure, boss.” His VP pressed a button and stood up. “What’s all that noise?” With the game on pause, the bass from the music shook the walls.

  “The Skull has decided to party in celebration of Easy’s release.”

  That caused Wolf’s eyebrows to rise. He knew a lot of what happened when Storm was a kid. Stories were swapped during long nights playing videogames and watching college ball. Little was said about Storm’s time at Holman Correctional. He preferred to keep it to himself.

  “Will do. I’ll head down.” Wolf turned toward Mary Jane. “Thanks for letting me win.”

  “Who said I let you?” Her eyelashes fluttered.

  “I could tell. You’re all right for a girl.” He chuckled and eased toward the door.

  “What? Girl? That’s woman to you. For that, I’ll beat you good next time.”

  “Who said there would be a next time?” Storm butted in, cutting off their teasing. Fuck! What was wrong with him? It was just a fucking game. He turned to his VP. “Get your thumb out of your ass and go!”

  Storm’s attention turned back to Mary Jane. Her gentle grin surprised him. What was she thinking about? What the hell? When had he ever cared about what a woman thought? If nothing else, he wanted to make her giggle again. Knowing that sound earlier had been innocent, he wanted to see if she did it for other reasons.

  Her grin widened as she looked him up and down. Shit! His cock hardened. He could tell she was interested and that only stoked his need even more. They stared at each other without a word. Her lips parted as if she couldn’t get enough air. Hell, he was nearly panting just looking at her.

  Then he remembered Speed was waiting downstairs.

  He hated to see that smile disappear.

  His chin lifted in her direction. “You. Downstairs too.”

  “Why?” Her forehead wrinkled. Damn, she’s cute.

  There went the smile. The desire to punch Speed came back all over again.

  “The Skull ordered it,” he said between gritted teeth.

  She walked to the door and listened. “Must be a pretty big crowd from the noise they’re making.” She opened it and craned her neck to look down the stairway. “What does he want?” Her eyes were wide when they looked his way.

  That surprised him. So far she hadn’t acted afraid of anything. He didn’t want her to be scared. He wanted the heat in her eyes and the grin back.

  “I have no idea.” That was a lie. He had a few but didn’t want to contemplate the thought of her being hurt. Ever since Janet, the Skull’s wife, died of cancer a few weeks ago, the man had become as mean as a snake.

  She gave him a shaky smile and closed the door.

  Damn! That wasn’t the smile he wanted. He needed her. She needed him and hadn’t completely realized it yet. He needed to show her. Never good with words, he was more a man of action. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her, sink into the warmth betwe
en her legs.

  “Okay. Let me brush my hair and get ready.” Her hands trembled slightly when she pushed the strands back. When she started past him, he grabbed her arms without thinking, like he did everything involving her. His chest pressed against hers.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let him touch you.” Did she understand his need to protect her, to touch her? He sure as hell wished he did.

  “I know you won’t,” she said, her voice husky with yearning, her eyes partially closed with desire. He’d almost expected her to say, “because I’m yours.” She was and didn’t know it yet, but she would.

  Hell. His brain and body was in alignment. She was his and he decided she needed to know.

  The woman amazed him. How could she be so sure of him? She acted as if she trusted him. For some crazy reason he wanted her more than any other woman he’d ever met. Whenever he looked at her, he fought the urge to beat his chest and shout that she was his. He wouldn’t let the Skull put a finger on her, but he’d be damned if he could stop himself from doing a lot more.

  Giving into impulse, he twisted and raised her arms above her head. He stared at her mouth for a moment, waiting for her to protest. The corners turned up slightly, and those luscious lips parted. No way could he say no to that invitation. He kissed her. He bent his knees enough for his groin to undulate between her legs. She rocked with him.

  Filling her mouth with his tongue, and as he felt hers slide along his, his need grew. She moaned and sucked.

  Oh, hell, yeah.

  His cock pulsed with each moan and suck. He wanted more. He needed her naked, legs spread, her moist heat taking every pounding hard inch he possessed.

  Pressing one dainty hand on top of the other, he dropped the other hand to his mouth to pull off a glove with his teeth. He needed more than his fingertips to feel her. His bare hand slipped under her blouse, and he yanked up her bra. With his mind centered on reaching the softness, he barely registered her cry of discomfort. As he cupped a breast—small but he liked it—he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the redness caused by his manhandling.

  Hot damn, his hand fit perfectly over the soft mound. He squeezed and then pinched the small dark pink nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She bowed her back and their lips separated as she released a long moan.

  “Oh, my God. Please.” Her breathless plea rushed all his blood to his cock. He pulsated from the need to enter her.

  “I’ve got to fuck you.”

  “What if I said no?” Her beautiful eyes searched his.

  “Don’t you fucking lie to me. You know you want it as bad as I do.”

  Her body arched, and he was certain he would die if he couldn’t get inside of her soon.

  “Reach a little higher and hold on to that bar,” he whispered into her ear.

  She looked up and then at him with one eyebrow raised.

  “Not what you think. I use it for chin-ups.” His hands refused to stay still. The softness of her skin shot a tightness throughout his body. He was about to explode.

  “Sure.” Her teasing tone drew his gaze.

  “Think whatever you like,” he said, not really caring if she believed him or not. He helped her wrap her hands around it. His gaze traveled down her naked breasts with their pointy nipples. “Damn, I want to lick and suck you all over. But first, I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

  “Hurry.” She groaned more than spoke the word. “Please.”

  Had he heard a slight hesitation?

  She didn’t say no.

  He unbuttoned her pants then lowered her zipper before he pushed down her lacy underwear and jeans. His hands lifted one mouthwatering long leg to push the material down past her foot.

  Fuck! The sight of darker blond curls on her pussy almost had him coming in his pants.

  Unzipping his fly, he pulled out his cock and stroked it.

  She moaned, her heavy lidded eyes watching every stroke. Her fingers wiggled on the bar as if she itched to touch him. She started to lower her hands.

  “Huh-uh, put your hands back and hold tight.” Like a good girl, she did and trembled. He liked knowing she was as turned on as he was. He slid a finger into her pussy. The wetness he found there proved how much she wanted him thrusting deep.

  He cupped her ass and spread her legs from behind as he lifted her onto his cock. She naturally opened up, hooking her knees over the waist of his jeans.

  Then he slammed up into her. She screamed.

  —

  Mary Jane slung her head back, tears coming to her eyes. She’d wanted him, but the quick, forceful jab was more than she’d expected.

  Being a virgin sucks big time.

  Taking deep breaths, she corrected that thought. Getting rid of her virginity sucked more.

  “Damn it, Mary Jane! Why didn’t you tell me you’d never been fucked?”

  His huge body leaned against hers and her hands held on to the bar above her head. His cock still remained in her body. She’d seen people making love before. He had thrust into her only once. No way was he finished.

  She wasn’t stupid. Her free-thinking parents had warned her that it would hurt the first time, and maybe even sting afterward. She hadn’t expected to scream. The amount of pain had been a surprise.

  She tightened around his cock, and he released several filthy words and tossed his head back.

  “Stop it. Virgins shouldn’t know how to do that.”

  “What do you know of virgins? Did they sacrifice one a week to you?” She couldn’t help the humor, but by the look of his glare, he didn’t appreciate it.

  Goodness, he could get over it; she was the hurt party. Though she had to admit after a few seconds, it stung only a little. She liked his big body over, next to, and in her.

  She wanted him to move. She wanted more. The pleasure-pain of his cock throbbing in her brought a need for a closeness she’d never experienced.

  “You haven’t answered me,” he said, his voice threatening dire consequences.

  “Not a subject that comes up during conversation. Are you going to finish or not?” She wanted to thread her fingers through his hair, stroke her hands over his pecs, and clutch his shoulders. The desire to touch him fought with his request…demand…that she not do so. If her fingers traveled over his torso, he would for sure stop. She had enough sense to know that. “My arms are tired. Can I bring them down onto your shoulders?”

  “No.” He breathed in deep. “I’ve got to move.” His hips pumped, and he slid out and then in, smooth thrusts with each stroke. “Sorry. Fuck, you’re tight. Sorry.” His unexpected softly spoken apologies pulled at her heartstrings. She wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for causing her pain a moment ago or needing to move at that moment. Her breath left her lungs, and all she could do was pant with each lunge.

  Truthfully, she’d wanted him from the first moment they met. She wasn’t the romantic type, and to lose her virginity against an outlaw motorcycle clubhouse’s wall to the president of the club was a great story. Another adventure.

  Breathing heavily, a feeling she recognized started to mount, a tightening below her bellybutton with a tingle at her clit brought her hips up to meet each plunge. Then he cursed, pulled out, and came over her mons.

  She gradually straightened her legs.

  “No, wait. Let go of the bar,” he said.

  It took a second for her to release her painful grip. All of the blood had left her hands and arms. After letting go, she shook them. They burned with returned feeling.

  “Lean against me and wrap your legs around my hips. Place your arms around my neck, clasping your hands together.” She crossed her ankles at the small of his back and did what he said. He was so strong. He didn’t act as if she was too heavy. Still holding her ass, he walked over to his bed and carefully laid her on the mattress.

  “Let go. Now don’t move. I’ll be back.”

  He disappeared into the bathroom. She examined the stuff on her without touching it as she heard cabinets being ope
ned and water running. He hadn’t used a condom and had done the only thing left: He’d pulled out as he came. Not as good as birth control, but it was better than nothing.

  In seconds, gloveless, he was nudging her legs apart and wiping between her legs and over her curls with a damp, warm blue washcloth. Dark red smeared the light material. A crazy thought came to mind: If she’d lived during Medieval times, it would have been presented to the party below as a sign of her purity. She bit her bottom lip to keep from giggling. Chances were he wouldn’t understand the humor in her thinking of him as a knight taking his lady.

  She watched the man work on cleaning her up. A thick lock of hair drooped over one eye, and his forehead wrinkled from deep concentration. He couldn’t be sexier. Her body still hummed with sexual need as she’d come near to a climax and not gone over. His gentle rubbing between her legs was getting her worked up all over again.

  “Storm.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Storm.” She couldn’t say it. She wasn’t usually shy about asking for what she wanted, but the current situation was different. She couldn’t make the words come out. How would it be if he used his mouth? She bet he would be great.

  He looked up and waited for her to explain. Then understanding came in those kind gray eyes. The man had some expressive eyes.

  “Grip the sheets and don’t let go.” He watched her follow his orders.

  With one final swipe of the cloth across her curls, he dipped his head and thrust his tongue into her. Her eyelids drifted down in extreme pleasure. She’d always wanted to experience having a guy go down on her, but she never guessed it felt so good.

  Her hands ached to dig into his scalp and keep him there for hours. Instead, they balled up the sheets beneath her.

  From what she could tell, he liked what he was doing. She smiled. As if Storm would do anything he didn’t want to do or didn’t like.