“Bark” Lost Valkyries MC #3
By Esther E. Schmidt
Copyright © 2018 by Esther E. Schmidt All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Incidents, names, places, characters and other stuff mentioned in this book is the results of the author’s imagination. Bark is a work of fiction. If there is any resemblance, it is entirely coincidental.
This content is for mature audiences only. Please do not read if sexual situations, violence and explicit language offends you.
Cover design by:
Esther E. Schmidt
Editor:
Virginia Tesi Carey
Proofreader:
Christi Durbin
Cover Model:
Ralph Bijl
instagram.com/dutch_viking1
Photographer:
Sisu Fotografie
facebook.com/sisufotografie
instagram.com/sisufotografie
DEDICATION:
Every situation you stumble into might not be
what it seems at first glance. Details, truth, and
an open mind are things that will allow you to
truly see what might not reveal itself the first time.
Never judge.
Huge thanks to my editor, Virginia Tesi Carey.
I freaking love working with you.
As for the cover... Ralph Bijl, I couldn’t get a more perfect visual. Thanks so much for bringing my character alive. Along with Linda,
from Sisu Fotografie who made it all possible.
Special thanks to my amazing Beta readers,
your input means the world to me.
Finally, thanks to my bestie, Christi.
The one who keeps me rock steady.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 01
CHAPTER 02
CHAPTER 03
CHAPTER 04
CHAPTER 05
CHAPTER 06
CHAPTER 07
CHAPTER 08
CHAPTER 09
CHAPTER 10
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 01
***Bark***
“Get the fuck out of here, Paris,” I bark at my friend and shove his shoulder. The man just got a phone call that his father was murdered. He needs to get his ass on a plane and head back home.
He’s been staying here, with the US charter, for the last few years learning how things go down in our charter. It’s time for him to step up and claim his birthright now that his father is dead; President of the Lost Valkyries MC, French Charter.
He nods warily and grabs my cut for a shoulder bump and a slap on my back. “You better come and stay with me sometime soon, fucker.”
“Right. I’ll be sure to step inside one of those big iron birds and fly to get myself some tight French pussy. Keep them warm for me, will ya?” I chuckle as the man climbs on his bike.
I watch as he drives off, struggling with my own inner demons that flare up at the thought of a family member being murdered. Fuck. My fingers slide over the wedding ring that belonged to my grandmother. I keep it hidden underneath my clothes. Although no one would recognize it as a wedding ring anymore because I’ve altered it slightly so it’s now a pendant.
I had to make it into a pendant because wearing a wedding ring around your neck raises questions I don’t feel I have to answer. When I first started wearing it, I never took off my shirt while fucking to keep it hidden, but when it gets rough the damn thing slips out. Altering it keeps the questions at bay for nosy ass chicks who ever pop a question as to why I have a golden wedding ring on a chain.
The answer is simple; none of your damn business. Because that’s my own personal shit I carry with me and I don’t need any chick throwing questions at me. The only need they have to fill is bending over to give my dick a warm place to stay for a little while and even that’s lost my interest these last few months.
I turn around and glance up at the store I’m standing in front of, a hair salon that opened about three weeks ago. Yeah, that’s exactly what I do need a woman for these days rather than a good fuck. Except I don’t have a clue if there’s a good one that can handle the style I demand. I shake my head because that’s not the first priority why I’m here.
I need to check it out because I’m the VP of Lost Valkyries MC, and because I’m a fucker with a conscience when it comes to these things. Blame it on past experience. I always like to dig deep and get the facts straight before becoming their executioner.
We got a request yesterday morning from Ross Royale. I kid you not, stupid fucking name, and I will also add that he made that shit up because his given name is Huck Mann. That’s correct, I bet that was hell growing up with misspelling that shit.
Anyway…he placed a request, an order for a hit, whatever you want to call it. I needed to check things out first. Normally it’s a crystal clear case; place the request with all the intel, hand over the cash, and we get our ass moving if the intel checks out. But with this one? Yeah, I had to double check because the fucker issuing the hit is a major scumbag in town.
We have three piles on our Prez’s desk; one where it states ‘no’, another ‘yes’, and the last one is the ‘incoming’ where all assignments come in. Only Ronin and I are in charge of clearing those and determining if we take it or not. Well, like I mentioned, most times it’s me. All jobs are paid for in advance because we don’t even glance at a request if the money isn’t there to back it up. And before you ask…no, there’s no refund if we don’t take the fucking job.
Normally the Prez would hand out the ‘jobs’, but there are six of us who can just grab a job from the ‘yes’ pile and take the cash when we’ve completed it. The cash from the ‘no’ pile goes straight into the funds of the club. The six of us have our own specialties and always get the job done. My other brothers, some of them nomads, get a job handed to them and they can take it or take a pass. But once we take a job, we see it through.
As for the hair salon, the demand was to blow it up. Since it just opened three weeks ago, the fucker requesting the hit being a major scumbag, and me needing a fucking haircut…I took it upon myself to check it out. I left the job in the incoming pile but Ronin knows I’m here to check it out first. Well, he thinks it’s me with Paris as my backup, but I just sent Paris back to the clubhouse to pack his bags.
I swing the door open and hear some kind of cowbell that’s attached to the top of it on the inside. When I close it, I take my time to glance around. It seems like the salon is divided into three sections. The first section where I’m standing, is the waiting room, complete with two dark gray couches and a tiny table with magazines sprawled over the surface. The floor is covered by a black carpet with a colorful sugar skulls print scattered all over.
The second section has two stylist chairs with large floor to ceiling mirrors in front of each one. In between the chairs and mirrors sit iron frame tables to hold different hair products and stylist tools. The walls are a rough concrete but with the sleek chairs, tables, and mirrors it appears very modern.
The last section, from what I can tell from way over here, is some kind of double pedicure bench. An old woman, probably in her seventies, is sitting at the bench…wait...I glance around and I realize there are five old people in here. There’s only one relatively younger girl and she’s sitting on a bar stool right next to the desk. I’m sure she works here because she’s all dressed in black with the name of the salon written in white on her tits. ‘Big Chick Beauty’. Except this chick doesn’t look big at all.
The one standing behind the desk though? She’s got her curvy ass facing me, along with two braids that flow into tails at her neckline and flow all the way
down, coming to a stop just a few inches above that magnificent ass. Her hair is a mass of dark with hints of dirty blonde. Fuck. All I’m seeing is her back and all I’m thinking is ‘I need to rip off her pants, slide in deep, hold on to those braided pigtails, and bounce her on my dick until we both come’.
Fuck. People fall in love all kinds of ways. Love at first sight, or slowly until it settles, or just feel comfortable with the right person to share their life with. I’m wondering if a person can fall in love with an ass? Head over heels assdoration. Because I sure as fu….
“Hi there, can I help you?” I’m looking at high cheekbones, full lips, almond shaped eyes, and a damn heart shaped face.
Scratch the wondering about falling for her ass, that was just a kick-start to the whole shebang.
“Yeah, you sure as fuck can,” I croak and manage to swallow the part where I mentally add ‘bend over so I can bury myself to the hilt and start pounding until we both find release’.
Her eyes widen for a moment before she either says something like ‘shit’ or…hell, maybe she fucking sneezed, what do I know? For the sake of being polite, I say, “Bless you.”
Her eyes hit the floor and her cheeks pink up. If my dick wasn’t already hard from seeing her ass, then it’s knocking on my zipper to let him the fuck out now. Damn, she’s adorable.
She clears her throat. “Nora, could you check if Tessa is done with Ms. Patel?” She locks her eyes with me before she adds, “Please take a seat, Tessa will be,”
“No worries, I’ll take him.” The chick I assume is Nora now jumps from the bar stool she was sitting on and steps toward me.
“Actually, I was looking for,” I start but fuck…I’m cut off by the bell above the door as it swings open.
The sheriff saunters in and releases a deep sigh before I hear the woman behind the desk sayin’ something like ‘shit’ or maybe she’s fucking sneezing again, before she starts to shake her head. “No. Just no, sheriff. Not again.”
“Sorry, Ms. Fox. You know the drill,” the sheriff states as he starts to usher people out of the salon.
Ms. Fox? She’s Jodi Fox? As in the owner of the damn hair salon that’s got a target on it? Fuuuuuuuck.
CHAPTER 02
***Jodi***
“This will be the last time, Sheriff. You’re killing me here.” I give him a pleading look but it’s no use.
His hand is pushing against my back and he’s guiding me out of my own darn salon. I’ve worked so hard to buy this building. There is a tiny bedroom attached to it, and that was the only reason I could afford it. Meaning I could use it as my salon and my home.
But ever since I opened it, I’ve been harassed by the sheriff to clear out the salon at least once a day. Always with a bullshit threat that someone wants to blow it up. That’s just plain crazy. As if I have enemies. But here we are again…all my clients standing outside.
Most of my clients are elderly, so they’ve got a towel wrapped around their wet hair and panic showing on their face. Except for the two sisters who were here opening week for a pedicure when the same thing happened. Thank heavens it didn’t scare them then since they are back here now wanting to have their hair done today.
But it might keep everyone away now. It’s ruining my business. I need to blink back the tears that are burning in my eyes and yet they might not fully be from the way I let my clients down. Nope, they are from anger because I have no clue who is doing this. Other than Monica Mann. She owns the hair salon on the other side of town. She dropped by the first day I opened and threatened me to close my doors or she would make me.
Such a hateful person and yet she seemed so nice when I met her a few times before I started my business. I’ve heard from a lot of clients that they don’t even allow clients to walk into her salon if they are older than forty. Her stepbrother throws them out. She hates…or to put it in her stepbrother’s words…‘old wrinkly people who stink’. I already mentioned she must be a hateful person, right? Yeah, well…if I wasn’t trying so hard to be a good person, even try to cover up my curse words, and if I would allow myself to hate someone on this Earth…it would be her. “Shit.” I mutter to myself once again.
“Bless you?” My eyes meet the man with the rough beard and wild hair.
He seriously needs a haircut. I’d love to run my fingers through it and slide my scissors… “Shit.” Darnit. Again the word mutters out, but this time it’s because of a fantasy taking over while my mind needs to be focused on the drama around me.
“You have allergies or something? Or do you have a skill that makes a curse come out as a sneeze?” The corner of his mouth twitches.
I narrow my eyes and try not to be charmed by his rugged appearance. I heard someone come into the salon earlier and even with my back to the door, I could feel his eyes burning on me. It’s clear this guy has some serious muscle underneath that tight black shirt he’s wearing. There are all kinds of tattoos peeking out from his chest and both arms are covered.
Some people might take a step back when they run into this guy. Although the way his eyes pierce mine, it’s as if he’s allowing me to see the kindness that’s hidden within. To be honest…I’d rather face him than Monica Mann. Although she’s got the appearance of a stunningly sweet woman, she just might be rotten on the inside.
Fury builds inside me. I’m so sick of this crap every darn day. Come to think of it…I’m sure Monica is doing this, all empty threats to get me to close my doors.
The rugged guy’s eyes focus on something that’s going on behind my back. His eyes widen then narrow, but that’s no skin off my bones. I need to get my salon back into action because I can’t keep everyone standing out here all day.
Spinning on my heels, I dash around the sheriff and head for my salon. Except the air rushes out of my lungs when I’m grabbed from behind and scooped up against a rock-hard chest.
“None of that, Fox.” The voice I recognize belongs to the rugged guy who adds, “Calm down and stay outside.”
I struggle to get loose. “Let me go, there’s nothing wrong, it’s a prank. Every darn day the sheriff shows up to clear out my salon because of a prank call saying there’s a bomb. But clearly there’s nothing wrong, see?” I point at my salon but the next moment a blast throws us back.
My ears ring as I’m slowly being pulled up to a sitting position. The rugged guy has his face a few inches from mine. His hands are cupping my face and his lips are moving. Yet I truly don’t understand why I can’t hear him or what he’s trying to say. My eyes slide to the left, confronting me with the most horrorstricken sight; I’m watching every possession I have being swallowed by flames. Total numbness takes over as I sag into strong, inked up arms.
“Come on, Little Fox. The doc checked you out. No other injuries except for a few cuts from the glass that was blowing around. Now stop worrying me and open those blue eyes for me,” a rough voice tells me.
I don’t wanna…I mean…what for? I just watched everything I had blown up right in front of me. “I don’t want to,” I grumble.
I woke up in the ambulance on my way to the hospital. They checked me out when I got there and once they established that I didn’t have any severe injuries, they patched me up. They asked if there was anyone they could call. When I ignored them, this guy came in. A nurse dragged him out of the waiting room because he was there asking, and waiting, for me.
It’s not like I don’t have anyone to turn to…but for real…go back to my parents like this? I’ve been saving up every dime for years and years to finally get my own business and now I have nothing…and what? I’m supposed to sleep in my old bedroom in my parents’ house? Not to mention that they are out of town on vacation in Italy. And what if blowing up my business isn’t enough and they come back for me, then I would put them at risk too when they get back home.
My eyes fly open when I feel his beard tickling me while his mouth covers mine. His chuckle caresses my lips before he pulls back. “There she is.”
I’m too stunned to react as I’m still processing the fact that he kissed me when the nurse tells him, “Here are the discharge papers so you can take your girl home.”
“Thanks, I’ll do just that.” The man takes the papers and nods while the nurse darts out of the room.
“Wha…what home?” I croak. And for real, that’s my reply?
“Mine,” he states as he takes my hand and pulls me up to a sitting position.
“Yours? I don’t even know you. Don’t even have a clue what your name is and I’m supposed to go with you? You’re a little, no…make that a kind of crazy that would fit to no magnitude at all.” I rub a hand over my face and mutter my curse word I’ve perfected into a sneeze like version so I can curse without being rude or nasty.
“I think it’s adorable when you do that,” he tells me as I drop my hand to give him a confused look.
His smile is bright enough to reach his dark blue eyes. “Sneezing.” He strokes his knuckles down my cheek and adds, “I’m Bark, you’re coming with me and I’m not giving you an option. Someone placed a hit on your salon and I’m going to make sure they don’t come back for you. That’s the only way I can protect you.”
Terror grips my heart because the very thought that prevented me from going to my parents’ house is the exact thing he tells me. The only thing safe enough is for me to nod and take him up on his offer, hoping he’s able to give me the protection he just promised me.
CHAPTER 03
***Bark***
A dual fire is licking its way through my veins. One is fueled by the anger I’m dying to unleash and the other is full blown lust due to the woman that’s wrapped tight around me on the back of my damn bike. Not once in my whole life have I felt the tight embrace of a person riding on my bike with me. Fuck. I’d never would have thought this day would come.
Bark Page 1