Full Heat: A Brothers of Mayhem Novel

by Carla Swafford

  “Is this what you want?” His calm voice sounded strange. From his beaten look to the savagery with which he had first taken her, she had expected his tension to ease up, but not to the extent that he acted almost in a daze. Something had happened downstairs that shook him up.

  “Storm, what happened?”

  “Turn over. On your stomach,” he said, his voice hoarse and deep.

  So he refused to answer her question. Whatever had happened left him in an odd mood. Her guess was he’d had another run-in with his dad. Was rough sex his way of trying to work out his emotions? Whatever had been said must have hurt Storm deeply for him to act in such a way with her. By stripping and returning to the bedroom, he was allowing her to see his vulnerability. In return, she trusted him to not hurt her. Besides, seeing all of him and knowing they would be touching skin to skin was a heady feeling. She’d never been so turned on in her life.

  “Now, Mary Jane.”

  His deep commanding voice scorched every single cell in her body. Her nipples hardened, and her pussy clenched in anticipation. Her heartbeat picked up speed. A mixture of trepidation and expectation found her doing as he said without argument. When he tapped her thigh, she followed his unspoken direction to part her legs.

  He leaned over the bed and caressed one trembling cheek. She smiled over her shoulder at him, but his concentration remained on a broad palm skimming down one leg and then the other. Her flesh turned to molten heat wherever he touched, such strong hands being so tender. She loved the strength and dominance he’d shown at first, but this new tenderness was a perfect contrast. When his hand came to the apex of her legs, he sunk a finger, two, and then three into her moist pussy. Her moan stretched out as he thrust a few times.

  “You like that?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes.”

  He rubbed her stiff clit and slid his fingers into her again, working her to a fever pitch. She felt his other hand stroke her tattoo, tracing the lines and sliding over every inch. With all her willpower, she kept herself from arching her back. She didn’t want to take the chance that her movement would make him stop. He touched her like he couldn’t get enough, like she was his favorite pet and he enjoyed her softness. Waves overtook her and her body tightened on his fingers.

  Then he eased away with a lingering caress. What was he planning to do next?

  “Don’t move,” he ordered.

  No way could she budge. Her body felt like a limp rag. A satisfied and happily sore one.

  The bed compressed next to her hip and a second later his big body covered hers. He rested his front against her back, buttocks, and legs. His ovenlike heat soaked into her as he began to rub his skin along hers. His hard cock shifted between her cheeks. He didn’t make a move to enter anywhere. Instead his large hands slid beneath her and cupped her breasts. Then he stilled. Since his knees were bent and pressed into the mattress and his elbows supported most of his upper body weight, she didn’t feel flattened. A feeling of comfort infused every inch. Was that what he was doing? Taking comfort from her, from her unresisting body?

  He didn’t move for several seconds. She sighed in bliss. The skin-to-skin contact engulfed her with a scatter of emotions, most unidentifiable.

  His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “You’re part of me. I will never let anyone ever harm you. Being with you makes me feel whole. Only you.”

  Unable to stop it, she moaned and arched her back, letting him know she loved and appreciated his words. He nipped at her earlobe, and a wave of desire enveloped her. Her gears stayed on ready around him.

  “Storm, let me make love with you,” she whispered.

  His body shuddered and then without a word, he moved off her and walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

  When seconds went by and he hadn’t return, her heart broke. Not for herself but for him. That was when she knew what he truly struggled with. He didn’t believe he deserved to be loved, to be touched with kindness or care.

  She cried until exhaustion pulled her into sleep.

  —

  Storm pressed his forehead to the cool glass windowpane. The moonless sky had a little pink showing in the east. Behind him he heard the sheets rustle as Mary Jane rolled over. Her whimper cut into him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds.

  He’d made her cry.

  “Let me make love with you.”

  Those sweet words had nearly crushed his heart. Why would someone as good as Mary Jane ever want to make love to him? To fuck, yes. But love could never be part of it. He wasn’t sure he understood the emotion. He knew as long she was under his protection he would take care of her and never let any harm come to her, but she didn’t deserve to be loved by a monster like him.

  Shoving hair out of his face, he strode back to the bed and stretched out beside her, staying on top of the covers. The tingling in his chest wouldn’t stop. He massaged the area. He’d let her see him naked. He’d pressed his bare body to hers. Damn! He hadn’t even thought of doing that without getting sick in years. All of it had to do with her. He never wanted to let her go. He felt like a normal human being around her. His fists tightened. She deserved better than someone like him.

  Turning onto his side, he watched her sleep. His fingers reached out and caressed a strand of her hair on the pillow.

  With her, everything had been different. She was different. He felt different because of her. For short moments with her, he felt human, probably for the first time in his life.

  Moisture formed in the corners of his eyes.

  He wanted her to stay with him forever.

  If she did, his world would hurt her. As long as he was with the Brothers of Mayhem MC, she would be a target. Even knowing that and wishing for it to be different, he never would willingly leave the MC.

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  Fuck all of that. She belonged to him.

  Chapter 12

  Really, how had he expected her to ride for hours? She felt like she’d been exercising nonstop for days. Considering she’d been using muscles she never had before, it was no surprise she was sore.

  Mary Jane shifted on the narrow cushion that had been so comfortable earlier. Two hours later, she felt every bump on the pavement.

  Softtail bike, her ass. She giggled silently and squeezed Storm. The man was an amazing lover. Sure she had no one to compare him to, but she was happy, so it had to mean something. She never imagined orgasming so hard and long like she had last night. How could she have been so lucky to have him as her first?

  Her first? That sobered her. Life had taught her nothing was guaranteed. Though she had feelings for Storm, he was unlikely to be the type to stick around. When the Thirty-Second gang’s attention centered on someone else, a minute later she would be forgotten by the Sand County Brothers of Mayhem president.

  Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Being the Skull, Speed rode alongside them in the front. He gave her a menacing glare. What was his problem? He acted jealous. Creepy.

  She returned her attention to the scenery. Soft mountains rolled higher with each mile. They were on their way to Maggie Valley, North Carolina, just over the Tennessee border. The Brothers of Mayhem planned to stay for four days.

  Excitement surged through her. Storm promised to take her to visit her parents on the second day. She hadn’t convinced him to stay for more than a night at the commune. He claimed he needed to return to the chapter or the Skull would have his hide. Brothers sticking together and all that. As it was, Wolf and Cutter were going with them. Mayhem Brothers rarely ride anywhere alone. Too much danger from rival clubs and gangs like the Thirty-Second.

  As they came closer to their motel, they passed more and more groups of motorcycles. Most appeared not to be one percenters—citizens, as Storm called them.

  Most of the Brothers bunked together, but being a chapter president, Storm didn’t have to share a room. She tried her best to hang in there with Storm and his Brothers as they partied, howev
er, by two in the morning her head bobbed up and down. When she woke next, she was naked and nestled at Storm’s side in bed. Lying on his back, he still wore clothes. He snored lightly with his hands clasped over his abdomen, boots crossed at the ankles, and eyes closed.

  Unable to resist, she slid a hand down his sleeved arm and over his hands. The fingerless gloves he usually wore were soft from wear.

  In a quick move, his fingers seized hers and squeezed.

  “What are you doing?” That rough deep voice of his sent electricity straight to her pussy until she ached deep inside.

  “Just touching you.”

  “No,” he said straightaway as he released her.

  She shifted to her elbow to read his face. “With everything we did—that I let you do to me—I still can’t place my hands on you?”

  “No.” That time he took a split second longer to answer. She was making headway. He sat up, swinging his feet over to the floor.

  Was she wearing him down? Maybe the realization that he didn’t need to be afraid…no, not afraid…she never could imagine Storm being afraid of anyone. More like dread. He dreaded being touched. Similar to how people dreaded the sound of fingernails going across a chalkboard. She guessed he needed to prepare himself.

  “Did you undress me?”

  “I sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone else do it.”

  She grinned. His possessiveness was like being dipped into warm chocolate. Delicious and soothing. Besides, it told her that he felt something for her too.

  “Well, you stripped me for a reason. What could that be?” She scooted closer and walked her fingers across his chest and grinned big as he shivered.

  “Damn it, Mary Jane, don’t mess with me.” He pushed her shoulders until she was flat on the bed, and he hovered over her, their lips less than an inch apart. “I thought it would help you sleep better.” His gaze followed the path of his roaming hand. He cupped a breast and slid a thumb across her taut nipple. She arched and pressed against him. “You’re so fucking sexy when you respond like that. I can tell you’re not faking it. You love it when I pet you. Like you never can get enough.”

  “True.”

  He chuckled. “That’s what I like best about you. You don’t play games. You know what you want and you go with it.”

  “True.” She cupped his hard cock through the denim. “Now let’s talk about a few games that are fun to play. Like how long I can hold my breath?”

  She unzipped his jeans and dipped her head.

  “Damn, sweet cheeks!”

  —

  Mary Jane had never seen so many wild and drunk men in one bar. The Brothers of Mayhem’s presence alone had scared off most of the bar’s regular clientele. There were a few men and women refusing to leave, but she believed it had to do with their fascination with the MC more than anything else.

  A smaller MC from Mississippi, Brute Force, who had supported the Brothers over the years in certain ventures, had rolled in earlier. Several of the old ladies and what the men called the pass-arounds―women willing to be shared with other bikers―had joined in the fun.

  She sat at a table alone. Storm had walked over to the bar to pick up a couple sodas and Wolf had stopped him. They were talking with a lot of sharp hand gestures. Whatever had happened, Storm wasn’t happy.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Mary Jane spotted the brunette who had been nice to her at the clubhouse. The woman waved and she waved back. The Mayhem Brother, Twofer, glared at Mary Jane and stepped in between the two women. She wasn’t sure what brought that on, but at that moment she heard a familiar shrill voice.

  “Hi, bitch. Where’s my old man?” Loosey Lynda pulled out a chair and sat at her table.

  Mary Jane knew she was referring to Storm. Before she voiced an answer, Storm walked over and yanked Loosey Lynda’s chair from the table. The woman jumped up and stumbled back as he glowered.

  “What did I tell you?” he asked.

  “This isn’t Brothers of Mayhem property, and I’m with Twofer.” She nodded toward the young Brother standing at the bar, his head thrown back as he guzzled a bottle of brew.

  “I know you didn’t ride with him. So it would be best if you got in your car and returned to Alabama,” he hissed loud enough for Loosey Lynda and Mary Jane to hear, but not enough for others. He clearly didn’t want to embarrass the woman further. Storm motioned for Twofer and Cutter to come over.

  That didn’t stop Loosey Lynda from acting the wounded party and raising her voice.

  “I don’t want to go back!” Loosey Lynda glared down at Mary Jane. “The only reason he likes you so much is because you’re flat chested and have no hips. He can fantasize he’s fucking a boy. He should be real good at it, considering he was fucked often in prison.” Cutter and Twofer grabbed her arms and dragged her toward the front door. She fought them, but continued to shout. “When you suck him off, does he ask you to stick a finger up his ass?” Twofer finally placed her in a choke hold and covered her mouth as Cutter opened the door and closed it behind them.

  Except for the jukebox playing, the bar was quiet. A few faces turned toward Storm.

  “Crazy-ass bitch,” Wolf said and the room burst out laughing. In seconds, the tension had flown out the building and everyone began partying again.

  Concerned for Storm—his face was so pale—Mary Jane reached for his hand, but he jerked away. Then he paused, his head turned away from her. “I’ll be back.”

  He strode toward a dark hallway on the other side of the pool tables where a neon sign announced “Restrooms.”

  She waited, talking absentmindedly with Wolf and a couple other Mayhem Brothers. After thirty minutes passed, she walked to the parking lot with Wolf nearby, and called the Sand County Sheriff’s Department for an update on the investigation. They said there was nothing new to tell her. The thought of someone getting away with Jimmy’s murder frustrated her. She had to restrain herself from snapping back at the deputy. He reminded her that if anything came up they would get in contact. In other words, leave them alone to do their job. She understood that, but it still bothered her. She didn’t want them to sweep it under the rug. With a shake of her head toward Wolf, they headed back inside. Still no sign of Storm. She accepted a new soda from Wolf and sat at the same table as before to wait. Cutter joined them and she asked if Storm had come out of the restroom. He shook his head. After an hour had gone by and they continued to hang around, she realized they were protecting her until Storm returned.

  —

  Storm leaned against the building and scowled at the starless night. The usual smells of garbage, piss, and mildew assaulted his senses, but they were scents he was familiar with. For that matter, he’d visited more alleyways for the MC than he ever wanted to remember. Considering a portion of his life was spent in a prison, he was used to worse.

  He was about to turn fucking twenty-two years old, but inside…fuck…he was ancient, practically on death’s doorstep.

  Taking a drag on his joint, he rested his head against the wall and blew the stream into the sky. Tomorrow, he and two of his men would go with Mary Jane to visit her family.

  Christ! What was he thinking? They would hate him on sight. Peace-loving, tree-hugging nonconformists might tolerate a boyfriend on a motorcycle, but a full patched biker and chapter president of a one-percenter MC? Hell no. Fuck them! He wouldn’t change for anyone. Not even for her.

  Damn. Even if he wanted to change, there was no way. He was what he was.

  He sucked in the mind-numbing smoke as he closed his eyes. Mary Jane. The woman was sweetness beyond anything he’d ever experienced.

  And may never experience again.

  Because of that fucking bitch Loosey Lynda.

  He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. The desire to cry burned his eyeballs and tightened his throat. He brushed his mouth with the back of his forearm.

  Man up!

  Pushing off the wall, he took another toke and let the smoke drift from between his lips
as he walked toward the parking lot.

  Over the previous months, some of his men had likely heard what happened at Holman. A handful had served time during and after, and the news would be a topic for any Mayhem Brother that hobbled into the prison. Only respect for his position and fear of his fists kept the rumors from spreading. Whatever fallout came about, he would handle it. If Mary Jane decided he wasn’t the man she wanted, then so be it. He wouldn’t be angry with her for making that decision. How could he be? If he could become someone else, he would.

  She probably thought he’d been using her as a cover. A beard. One thing was certain, even a suspicion in the MC that he might be gay would get him beaten or killed. There was nothing about another man that interested him. Women aroused him. In particular, Mary Jane and her soft body hardened his cock faster and longer than Viagra.

  He rubbed his eyes. What had he been thinking last night? At the time, he’d wanted to mark her as his in every way possible. He’d wanted to possess every tender inch of her. Thrusting in a couple of fingers was nothing compared to what they had done to him. He wouldn’t hurt that way. When he pressed his bare skin to hers, it had been almost orgasmic. If there had been a way to imprint his touch and smell on her, he would. When he was with her, he felt more like a man than he had ever. That settled that. Loosey Lynda had caused him to doubt himself. Never again.

  But what had Mary Jane thought when she’d heard the distorted truth spoken out loud? Was she wondering about him too? Had Loosey Lynda made her disgusted with him?

  Fuck! How messed up was the whole business? Shame washed over him. His sadistic bastard of a father had set up his rape in prison. All because he wanted to punish him for surviving his abuse as a kid and becoming stronger for it, and now he planned to use it against him to take over the chapter.

  He stopped at the end of the dark alley and inhaled the last bit off the roach before flicking it away.