Full Heat: A Brothers of Mayhem Novel

by Carla Swafford

  He nipped at the tender, swollen lips and nibbled her knotted clit. Licking and sucking, he moved his head from one sensitive spot to another. She arched, trying to get closer. His rough beard rubbed across her folds, bringing back the pulsing need throwing her over the edge. Small shots of pleasure raced from between her legs. When he drew in deep, pulling at the bundle of nerves, she screamed again, this time from the ripples gripping her.

  Taking his time, he pressed his tongue to her and lapped until she regained her breath.

  Gradually, Storm stood, towering over her, and grinned. She watched as he licked his lips before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “You taste damn good.”

  She swallowed deep. That was so freaking hot.

  What woman could resist a man who enjoyed doing that?

  —

  After quickly drawing on her panties and jeans, brushing her hair, and pulling it back in a ponytail, she used a small mirror from her purse to put on a light coat of foundation and touch up her eyes. Her face was flushed and her lips were faintly puffy. She liked the look. Yet she felt nuts for having sex with a biker after meeting each other only two days before, especially since she’d been a virgin for so long. Then again, quick decisions ran in the family. Her mom had said yes to her dad’s marriage proposal after only a week.

  An ache in a sensitive spot reminded her she’d participated in a new activity.

  Fucking.

  That was what Storm said. They hadn’t made love. Goodness, he wouldn’t let her touch his skin except to kiss him, put her arms around his waist while riding, or around his neck for a moment; that was all the touching he’d allowed without moving away. A strange quirk, but nothing big. She was aware of the different sexual lifestyles. There were couples at the commune who enjoyed bondage, pain, age play and D/s relationships, while others lived a more traditional lifestyle, like her parents. As far as she knew, they had a run-of-the-mill sex life. If not, she didn’t want to know. Otherwise, to each his own.

  Then why did she feel like crying?

  Pushing away from the bathroom counter, she walked through the bedroom and met Storm in the hallway.

  Another Mayhem Brother stood beside him. Slightly taller than Storm but with coal-black hair, he looked like a full Native American. His dark eyes examined her as if he knew what they had done and wanted his turn. Broad shouldered and wearing a sneer on his face, he looked as if he didn’t expect anyone to stop him. She shifted closer to Storm, without touching.

  “Ignore Cutter. I’ll kick his ass if he tries anything.” Storm sounded confident. Of course, when didn’t he? He leaned closer. “You all right?”

  She nodded and glanced over at the other man.

  Storm held his hand out, fingerless gloves back on, and motioned for her to go first.

  The next few minutes were surreal for Mary Jane. She walked carefully down the steep staircase with two dangerous Mayhem Brothers behind her into an orgy scene from Caligula. A few months ago, she’d come across the movie on the top shelf of Jimmy’s DVDs. Only, she’d descended into the real thing. The large room, filled with men wearing Brothers of Mayhem patches over vests or jackets, vibrated with classic rock. Women of different ages in various stages of dress were draped over men and furniture.

  In one corner, two females sucked their partners’ dicks. The couples appeared to be racing, and from the way money was being exchanged by the Brothers surrounding them, they were betting on a winner. In a dark but not dark enough corner, a burly Mayhem Brother screwed a woman from behind. The scent of pot and cigarettes filled the air. A circle of Brothers leaned over a table and took turns snorting lines of a white substance sitting on foil. She could only guess meth. That was the common drug of many outlaw bikers Jimmy had told her. The party wouldn’t end anytime soon. The drug caused a person to stay awake for hours, even days.

  A stocky older man waved them over to the bar. He stood with several gray-haired Brothers she hadn’t seen before with the exception of Storm’s father.

  “Well, so this is your client.” At the upper portion of one side of his vest, a patch was embroidered with the title National President and below it was another patch with a skull wearing a crown.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Crane.” She held out her hand. His name and bio had been in Jimmy’s notes.

  The older man laughed. “Call me Speed, and shaking hands is no way to greet a nice-looking woman like you.” Then she found herself pulled into a full-body embrace, his deep chuckle saying he was getting his kicks feeling her small breasts against his chest. With his big belly in the way, her feet left the floor.

  She choked as her lungs didn’t have room to fill up with air.

  “Prez, you’re cutting off her breath.” Storm’s steady tone came across as if he was giving the weather forecast.

  Mary Jane wished Storm had hit Speed, but she knew it would only cause trouble. With a grunt, Speed nodded and released her.

  “You’re skin and bones. Storm needs to fatten you up. He likes them with lots of curves.” Speed held his cupped hands out near his chest. The men all laughed and eyed her nearly nonexistent breasts. Blushing, she wanted to shout that Storm acted as if a handful was enough.

  She looked at Storm. Had he acted that way only because he’d been caught up in the moment? She’d been teased about her flat chest most of her life. Likely, it was part of the reason she’d been a twenty-three-year-old virgin. That and she just hadn’t found anyone like Storm.

  “I’m his client. So it doesn’t matter what I look like.”

  “That’s what you think, sugar.” Speed’s dismissive tone ticked her off.

  Before she could respond, Speed turned his back to her. “Bullhead told me you had a run in with the Thirty-Second earlier this morning. How would they know you were being released at that time in the morning?”

  “They probably have a snitch at the jail.”

  “Could be. Those sons of bitches are everywhere nowadays.” Speed turned his attention back to Mary Jane. “I heard how you lost your friend. Sorry about that. Jimmy had a good rep with bikes. Supreme goods. The first bike I ever stole was bought off his showroom floor the day before. A fine ride.”

  That had to be fifty years ago. Probably not long after Jimmy opened his first store.

  Mary Jane wasn’t sure how to react to that information. Hearing him blatantly gloat about stealing a motorcycle warned her that he thought he was untouchable when it came to breaking the law. A high-pitched voice near the front door grabbed everyone’s attention.

  “About fucking time! I can’t believe we get to come back to the sacred clubhouse and party.” A full-blown redhead waddled in four-inch heels over to Storm and wrapped her arms around him. Her short, tight dress lifted in the back so high, everyone could see she wore a thong. A green one.

  Storm’s face froze and drained of all color. He gripped her arms and forced her off his body, pushing her a couple of tottering steps back.

  “Hey! Still don’t like women?” she asked in a low voice that only Storm and Mary Jane heard. The look on the woman’s face showed how much she enjoyed handing out that dig. Hands on ample hips, she smugly looked around.

  Storm’s hand shot out and circled her throat. He squeezed, his face an inch from hers.

  “You ever say that to me again, you won’t have teeth to chew afterward. Understood?”

  Mary Jane reached out to Storm, but Wolf clasped her arm and shook his head.

  The woman nodded the best she could in Storm’s grip.

  He shoved her away.

  Mary Jane had no idea what all that was about, but without thinking further on it, she stepped between them, facing Storm.

  “How about getting me a drink, Storm. You wore me out earlier. Please?” If the words were not enough, the tone was one lover to another, she hoped.

  She stood so close, she could feel the heat off his body and his breath stirring the hair on her forehead. Goodness, she liked how he alm
ost surrounded her with his presence alone.

  “Who are you, bitch?” The screaming behind her stopped all the talking in the room. A few giggles to one side alerted Mary Jane that the woman might have friends nearby.

  She turned and held out her hand. “I’m Mary Jane. The woman Storm just fucked before we came to the party.”

  —

  The first emotion that flashed through Storm was anger, but then the expressions he noticed on everyone around him nullified that. A mixture of relief and satisfaction showed on most faces. Had so many of the Brothers questioned his sexuality?

  “What?” Loosey Lynda screamed. “Is this true, Storm? I thought we had an understanding.”

  He opened his mouth, but Mary Jane said, “I’ve been with him for over forty-eight hours, and haven’t heard of or seen you once. You obviously haven’t crossed his mind once. So I would say the only understanding was yours.”

  “You skinny-ass bitch!” Loosey Lynda swung a fist and missed as Mary Jane leaned to one side.

  “Obviously, your plump ass is too slow to hit me.”

  Two more swings and each time Loosey Lynda missed. The laughing crowd surrounded the women, but allowed them room to fight. A Brother to one side shouted, “Bitch fight!”

  Loosey Lynda charged Mary Jane, head down and full force. As Storm expected, Mary Jane simply stepped to one side at the last moment. Loosey Lynda wasn’t the brightest color in the Crayola box.

  Mary Jane cringed and shrugged her shoulders when Loosey Lynda landed on a table and went topsy-turvy, legs spread and straight up in the air. A good number of the men whistled while most pointed and laughed.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she’d take it so personal,” Mary Jane said, hands up and shrugging. More laughter surrounded them.

  Storm couldn’t hold back the chuckle. Loosey Lynda must’ve heard as she came barreling toward her target before Mary Jane realized she had recovered from her fall.

  She knocked Mary Jane into a small cluster of women. A couple held her arms and Loosey Lynda punched her in the stomach and kneed her in the side when she bent over.

  Storm moved to stop them, but Speed stuck his arm out to stop him. The older man shouted, “You hold him!” Two of Speed’s men reached out.

  The last thing this party needed was for him to go bonkers. Then a free-for-all between Brother and Brother would break out. Talk about a clusterfuck.

  “Keep your fucking hands off me,” he said. “I won’t interfere, but you better hope she comes out of this in one piece.” Storm stepped back and waited. If anyone truly harmed her, he would rain hell down on the person, Skull or no Skull.

  Before Loosey Lynda could hit her again, Mary Jane used the women holding her as support and kicked Loosey Lynda with both feet. The redhead flew into the air and landed against the wall, sliding down, unconscious. The women released their grasps and raised their hands. Mary Jane stood, hands fisted. One of the old ladies off to the side picked up a barstool. Without warning, Mary Jane turned in time and knocked it out of the woman’s hands and followed it with a quick jab to her ribs. The movements were a blur.

  Storm chuckled. Mary Jane had many hidden talents.

  Damn, she’s kinda hot fighting.

  He nodded toward Wolf. “Take her back to my room.”

  Without looking toward his national president, he crossed his arms and watched Wolf cautiously tell her the orders. Mary Jane glanced his way and then followed Wolf up the steps. He noticed she moved slow and held her left side. He should have known better than to bring her down in the middle of a Brothers of Mayhem party. Though she handled herself rather well, he should’ve stopped them sooner. She should’ve never gotten hurt. It wouldn’t happen again.

  Storm nodded to Venom nearby. “Take Loosey Lynda out and tell her never to come back.” The Brother headed to where Loosey Lynda remained sprawled out on the floor.

  His desire to check on Mary Jane had to be pushed to the side. Time for a chat with the Skull.

  The music picked back up and everyone began talking at once. A few even imitated some of the moves Mary Jane had displayed.

  Speed laughed. “I hope you’re man enough to put that bitch in her place.”

  Gritting his teeth, Storm wanted to correct his national prez. There was nothing about Mary Jane that added up to bitch. She was too kind and sweet. Sure, she’d proven she knew how to take care of herself against another woman and possibly most of the men in the building, but he would do what he needed to do to protect her.

  “You going back home tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Want to get rid of me that fast?”

  “Usually when you come up to Sand County, we go on a run to the mountains. I was thinking of going that way anyway. Keep Mary Jane out of the way until the Thirty-Second chill their engines.”

  “Sure.” The older man nodded. “Yeah. That sounds like a good idea. That will give you and your dad some time to renew your acquaintance.”

  “That’s not going to happen. The bastard killed my mother.” Not like Speed didn’t know, but Storm refused to let anyone forget. At that moment, he spotted his old man near the bar watching him and Speed talk. He hoped the asshole worried about their conversation.

  “Have you ever once asked your dad’s side of it?”

  Fury washed over him as he slowly turned his head to Speed. “He has nothing I want to hear.”

  “So young and full of spit and vinegar, like my old man used to say.” Speed downed a long swallow of beer, finishing the glass. He ordered his prospect to hand him another one and then said, “You might be surprised. Your mom was having an affair with Stonewall.”

  Storm had heard the rumors. At the time, Stonewall had been the club’s sergeant at arms and with good reason, he hung around his parents a lot. Anything could happen. But beating a woman to death wasn’t the answer. Divorce was less bloody.

  “What time tomorrow do we leave?” He wanted the subject changed.

  “Lunchtime would be soon enough. It will give Razz time to get here.” He was the Mobile chapter’s president. “Here.” Speed reached into his vest’s inside pocket and pulled out a joint. “Enjoy. You need to relax. You’re strung tight. Go get you some of that sweet-looking pussy.” He slapped Storm’s back and turned away.

  The asshole knew he hated for anyone to touch him, especially his back.

  Stretching his neck and rotating his shoulders, he headed toward the steps. He didn’t want to admit it, but he really wanted to check on Mary Jane. Maybe she would let him doctor her bruises.

  Yeah, right. Call him Dr. Ryder.

  Chapter 8

  Damn it to hell. His guts tightened with the need to hit someone. It should be such a simple job. Protect one woman long enough for the police to pull together enough evidence to harass the Thirty-Second gang. Then he would draw the gang’s attention away from Mary Jane, make her more trouble than she was worth, especially once it sunk in that she was under his protection. Shit. That should be the Brothers of Mayhem’s protection, but he trusted no one but Wolf.

  He reached the hallway and ignored the fist-size hole he’d left in the wall. Maybe he could send out a prospect to find a picture to hang over it until he bought more Sheetrock. Wolf leaned against the wall next to the door. Blowing out a long trail of smoke, he squinted through the haze as he handed off the joint to Storm.

  “She’s in there cleaning up. I figured you would prefer I stay out here.”

  That was why he recommended Wolf as VP. Smart bastard. Storm took a toke and handed it back.

  “Go on downstairs and have a good time.” He nodded for Wolf to return to the party.

  With a whoop, Wolf sprinted for the stairs. “I’m coming, ladies!”

  Maybe knocking would be the polite thing to do, but why would he? It was his room. Hell—

  Storm opened the door and stopped, holding his breath. He pretended to scratch his chest. Was his heart still beating?

  Mary Jane stood in the bathroom, do
or wide open, with no shirt on, her back to him, twisting to look in the mirror above the sink, trying for a glimpse of her lower back. She had taught her attacker a good lesson, but the shoe-size bruise wasn’t what held his attention. It was what covered most of her back. A Chinese dragon. The artwork was exquisite. Damn. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. The red and black ink curled along her spine until the claw dipped below the waistband of her jeans.

  Her gaze lifted and met his.

  No movement. No sound penetrated the next few seconds as they stared into each other’s eyes. A feeling of destiny pulled at Storm.

  Regaining the use of his legs, long strides brought him within inches of all that colorful, soft skin. He jerked off his gloves. A deep craving seized his usual control, and he ran a fingertip along the creature’s tail.

  “Beautiful,” he reverently whispered. Unable to resist any longer, he bent down and ran his tongue down the scales. Her moans filled the small room as she arched her back into his touch.

  He straightened. His hands traveled around her waist until he reached the snap of her jeans. With a flick of his thumb, he unfastened them, pulling the material apart. She didn’t protest when he shoved the denim and panties down her legs.

  With a small nudge to her hips, he sent her toward the bedroom.

  “Go. Lay on your stomach on my mattress.” His throat felt dry, his tone deep and hoarse. Seeing her hard nipples begging to be sucked almost brought him to his knees.

  Without argument, she glided into the next room, hips swaying.

  A sprinkle of cherry blossoms floated over a cheek, down one leg to behind her knee. What else did the woman have hidden?

  The combination of long limbs, golden skin, exotic flowers, and a green-eyed dragon sent a rushing need throughout his body. If he didn’t release his cock from behind the zipper, he would have permanent indentions running along it.

  He inhaled as he unsnapped his jeans and carefully unzipped. Grasping his cock, he stroked.

  “Put your knees under you. Now spread them.” He could see every moist fold, shell pink to hot pink. “Hold on to the sheets and do not move your hands.”