by Penny Dee
He grinned and I was momentarily taken back by how beautiful his smile was.
How beautiful he was.
“Hell, darlin’, I don’t want you to leave.”
I resumed looking for my skirt. “I have to leave. I have things to do.”
I found my skirt in a tangle with my shirt at the foot of the bed.
“At least let me give you a ride home.” He sat up.
“It’s fine. I can call a cab.” I stood up and slipped my shirt on.
“I’m not letting you take a cab.”
“Really, it’s fine.”
He climbed off the bed, unfazed by his nakedness, and began looking for his boxer shorts. I paused to drink in the fine display of his muscular body and his still-swollen manhood swinging between his powerful thighs. It was obvious he took very good care of his body.
He slipped on his jeans, and by the time I had buttoned my blouse and found my phone and shoes, he was fully dressed and securing his wallet chain to his jeans.
“Ready?” he asked.
There was no point arguing.
As he opened the bedroom door, I mentally braced myself. I wasn’t looking forward to the walk of shame through the clubhouse. But the hallway was quiet and the clubhouse was still. Sometime during the night the music had stopped and the party had wound down.
As soon as I entered the bar, the stench of last night’s partying hit me like a bat to the face, and I had to hold my breath. The bar was littered with snoring bikers and the odd club girl asleep where they had passed out. Bottles lay scattered and spilled everywhere. Stale booze and body odor were ripe in the air, and it was enough that I had to hold my breath to keep from vomiting. Caleb took my hand and led me through the mess, stepping over discarded bottles and sleeping bodies. Musty smoke glittered in the dusty rays of sunlight bursting into the room from a window above the jukebox.
Across the room, an older biker was quietly having sex with a large, partially dressed woman up against the pool table. His jeans were down around his ankles and his eyes were closed as he lazily rocked into her. The slap, slap of her large, wobbly boobs against the pool table broke the stillness of the morning.
Farther away, a naked woman lay slumped at the base of a stripper pole with everything open and on display. She hugged a half-spilled bourbon bottle and snored loudly. As we passed by her, Caleb shook his head and grabbed a discarded shirt from a nearby chair to cover her.
“Is she alright?” I whispered.
“Yeah, that’s Candy. It’s not the first time she’s passed out there, and it won’t be the last.”
I glanced around me. This place. These people. This was Caleb’s world. And it reeked of bad choices. Nausea roiled in the pit of my belly, and I barely made it outside in time before losing the contents of my stomach.
“Jesus, are you okay?” Caleb asked, coming up behind me.
I gestured for him to give me a moment as another wave of nausea washed over me, and I vomited again.
“You drink too much?” he asked when I finally straightened and walked over to him. “I don’t remember you being drunk.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t drink a thing.”
He handed me a helmet. “Are you okay to ride? Or do you need a minute?”
“I’ll be okay.”
He led me over to a row of motorcycles parked alongside the clubhouse. His was a big black beast with lots of chrome gleaming in the early morning light.
Before he climbed on, he touched my hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I smiled brightly but it was fake because I felt weird. Out of place. I didn’t belong there.
“Yes. I’m fine,” I said, very aware that I needed to get out of there. I secured my helmet and climbed onto the back of his bike. “Let’s ride.”
HONEY
The moment we pulled up outside my apartment, I knew something was wrong. I looked up at my bedroom window that overlooked the street and realized the curtains were missing.
Caleb sensed something was wrong, too, and insisted on following me inside.
When the door swung open, my heart sank. The place was completely empty.
Everything was gone.
Even the window furnishings.
“What the fuck?” Caleb stood right behind me. “Who did this?”
My head shot up.
Amy.
She had stolen everything. Apart from a discarded candy wrapper in the middle of the floor, my apartment was completely empty. My comfortable couch. Gone. The table and drawers I’d found at a secondhand store and had lovingly restored. Gone. Even the giant picture of James Dean walking through a rainy New York City … gone.
I ran to my room, but came to a halt in the doorway. The room was bare. My bed. My furniture. The pictures off the wall. Hell, even my clothes—all gone.
I raced to the loose floorboard near where my bed used to be and pried it open.
“No!” I cried, dropping to my knees.
My money roll was missing.
$670 of savings . . . stolen.
I sat back and put my head in my hands. I needed that money.
Caleb crouched down in front of me.
“She’s taken everything,” I sobbed.
He pulled my hands from my face. His eyes were gentle, but the rigid tick in his jaw let me know he wasn’t happy about this.
“We will get your stuff back,” he said darkly.
I looked away, but he turned my chin to face him.
“I promise you, Honey. I will make this right.”
I didn’t believe him, but I appreciated his attempt to make me feel better. I went to thank him, but the sudden onset of nausea sent me straight to the bathroom where I threw up again.
“Are you sure you didn’t drink last night?” he asked when I came back to the bedroom.
I leaned a hip against the doorjamb. I felt dizzy. “I’m sure.”
Tell him. Tell him now.
“Maybe you have a stomach bug.”
I wanted to tell him about the baby, but not while this disaster was unfolding.
I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m calling the police.”
He crossed the room briskly and closed his hand over mine so I couldn’t finish making the call.
“Let me handle this,” he said, his blue eyes gleaming with a formidable glint.
“You don’t have to do anything. I can handle this.”
But even as I said the words I knew my stuff was gone forever. I would fill out a police report but hear nothing, while Amy got to enjoy all of my belongings. Unfortunately, this wasn’t my first rodeo.
“I can assure you, I can get your stuff back a lot quicker than the police,” he said.
“You can?”
When he nodded, my face crumpled and he drew me into his arms and held me against his broad chest, pressing a kiss to my hair before releasing me. He was warm and big, and so comforting that it made me want to cry harder.
“What’s her name?” he asked.
“Amy,” I replied, bewildered. “Amy Russell.”
“Do you know where she works?”
I hesitated. I didn’t know Caleb. And while his fierce masculinity was a turn on, it was also a reminder that I had no idea what he was capable of. He was a big guy, both in size and presence. And despite his easy-going nature, there was something formidable about him. I didn’t know what he would do to Amy once he found her. Would he threaten her? Hurt her? Hurt the person she was with?
Hell, was this guy a killer?
“Look, no one is going to hurt her,” he said as if he could read my mind. “Usually the cut is enough.”
I relaxed a little. “She lost her job at the supermarket last week. But I know she hangs out at Skylar’s.”
“The bar over on Juniper Street?”
“Yeah, she goes there a lot. Last time we spoke she said she might be able to pick up a few shifts.”
>
“Let me handle it,” he said and I could see on his face that he would. “In the meantime, can I drop you somewhere?”
My head shot up.
My car.
I ran to the window overlooking the parking lot, my heart pounding at the chance Amy might have stolen that, too. It was the last thing of value I owned. I was up to my eyeballs in debt with the bakery I’d just started, and until I started making money on my new business venture, I couldn’t afford another car.
Thankfully, Amy hadn’t added grand theft auto to her list of crimes and my little Fiat sat untouched in its parking space. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a small blessing.
Caleb crossed the room and stood behind me. “Your car?”
I turned around and nodded. “It’s still there.”
I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want him to see me cry. And as reality began to sink in, I could feel a decent ugly cry coming on.
“Hey,” he said, stepping closer and gently lifting my chin. “I’m going to take care of this.”
The darkness in his usually vibrant blue eyes told me he meant what he said. And I had no doubt he was capable of doing so. What I couldn’t understand was why he would. “You don’t have to do anything.”
But he ignored me. “Have you got somewhere to stay tonight?”
When I nodded, he leaned closer and took my phone out of my hand. Feeling dazed, I watched as he added his number into my contacts list and mine to his.
“You need anything, you call me.” He handed me back my phone. “I’ll call you when I’ve dealt with this, okay?”
Still dazed, I nodded. “Sure.”
He leaned forward and pressed a warm kiss to my forehead before heading out the door. Still feeling a little overwhelmed, I watched the six-foot-four wall of muscle climb on his bike and take off into the early morning with a flick of his wrist and a loud roar down the road.
That man. He was something. He was strong and capable. And oh so irresistible.
He was also the father of my baby.
The baby he still knew nothing about.
CALEB
I rode back to the clubhouse with Honey on my mind. I wanted to help her. The Kings had a lot of friends, and there wasn’t a hell of a lot that went down in this town that we didn’t know about. Outside of the club, we had a network of alliances and people who stood firmly in our camp. People who would do what we wanted. People who would tell us what we needed to know. From hookers and business owners, to town councilors, members of criminal syndicates, government employees, even a mayor. It’s what helped to keep the Kings of Mayhem the biggest and most powerful club in the south.
Finding Honey’s dick roommate—sorry, ex-roommate—wasn’t going to be a problem. What would be difficult would be holding myself back from knocking her lights out. I didn’t touch women. But I hated thieves. Scumbag low-lifes who took from others because they couldn’t be fucked working for it. And this Amy sounded like a real low-life flea. But for me, like my brothers, violence against women was never an option. I would never raise my hand to one. I was raised to treat women with respect, and as equals. In my home and in my club, if you hit a woman, you should expect her to hit you back. The Kings of Mayhem married queens. Strong, independent women who fought back. And as men, we lived the philosophies of my grandfather, Hutch Calley, the man who started it all back in the sixties. You didn’t hit women. And we didn’t tolerate men who did.
I remembered an incident when I was just a kid, when our neighbor, Jackie Parrish, laid a fist into his wife’s cheek at a club barbecue. The fallout afterwards had been massive. Sure, not much happened on the surface. But behind the scenes things were put in place, eyes were set on Jackie, and I overheard my dad telling Jackie to cool it, to get some help or lose his patch. He went easy on him because Jackie’s son had just died of leukemia, but if his wife showed up with any more bruises, he told him he was out. And when you got thrown out of the club, it hurt. A lot.
My daddy, Garrett Calley, had been a mean sonofabitch. He’d done bad things. Bad things. Lied to people. Hurt people. But he never once raised his hand to my mom—which was good for a lot of reasons, but mainly because I know my mom would’ve shot him if he did.
When I pulled into the clubhouse parking lot, I parked my bike next to the barbecue tables and shoved my sunglasses into my t-shirt. Walking toward the entrance, a gorgeous blonde in a tight pink top and a barely there denim skirt came toward me, her glossy lips giving me a bad-girl smile as she walked past in her high-heels and legs that went on forever.
“Hey, baby,” she cooed.
Her name was Tiffani. She was a club girl. She liked MC cock. And for the last few months she had been chasing mine. But I hadn’t been down that well-traveled road.
“Hey, Tiff. How you doing, darlin’? You ain’t misbehaving now, are you, sweetheart?”
She paused to give me a wicked look. “If you’re offering, baby, you know I’m keen to misbehave with you.”
I grinned and shook my head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m already late for official club business.”
That was a lie. The official club business I was talking about was a warm shower and a cup of coffee so strong it could restart the heart of a dead man.
“Well, I could always come back later, if you like,” she offered.
But I kept walking.
“You know where to find me!” she called out.
Inside the clubhouse, the cleanup was already underway. Red, our resident cook, was walking around with a garbage bag picking up beer bottles, ashtrays, and other litter, while a couple of our club girls were wiping down tables and mopping the polished concrete floor. When I saw Tiffani, she didn’t look like she’d been helping with the cleanup so I assumed she had been leaving someone’s bedroom. And when Hawke walked in eating cereal out of the box, and with a trail of hickeys up his neck, I was pretty sure whose bedroom it was.
“Hey, Caleb.” Behind the bar, Randy our one-armed barman, was pouring Candy, the naked girl who’d passed out at the end of the stripper pole, a cup of coffee. “You want one of these?”
When I nodded he poured me a cup and I grabbed it on my way to my room. My hangover was non-existent thanks to a night spent in bed with a fine woman versus a night spent drinking hard liquor with my brothers. But damn, that first mouthful of coffee was euphoric.
In my room I drained my cup and stripped out of my clothes. I had a big day today. Things to do. People to see. Some bad memories to douse in bourbon.
Stepping into the shower, my thoughts wound back to Honey. I didn’t know why I couldn’t shake her out of my mind. I wasn’t the relationship type. I enjoyed being free and not having to answer to anyone. And since breaking up with Brandi, my crazy ex-girlfriend, I was convinced I was meant for the single life.
But there was something about Honey. I couldn’t deny it. I wanted to see her again.
Only, I got the feeling she wasn’t interested in anything more than my dick.
The first night, she didn’t even want to know my name.
Or my number.
And then she’d skipped out on me while I slept off our wild night in that cheap motel room.
Next thing, she appeared at the clubhouse looking so damn fine I wasn’t able to keep my fucking hands off her.
Yet despite the fucking amazing sex, and the numerous orgasms, she still wanted to run away from me.
If I hadn’t given her a ride home, chances are she would have disappeared from my life forever.
So I was going to help her get her belongings back because she needed my help.
But also because it gave me an excuse to see her again.
HONEY
“That bitch!” Autumn seethed, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. We were sitting on her couch, the one I would be sleeping on until I got my bed and furniture back. “I always knew you couldn’t trust the little thief.”
“Caleb seems to think he can get my things from her,” I said, leaning f
orward and taking my peppermint tea from the coffee table. I took a sip of the minty water and savored the sweetness on my tongue. It was the only thing I could keep down, and thankfully, it also calmed my nausea.
“I don’t doubt it, he seems very . . . capable.” She looked at me over her mug and I could see the twinkle in her eyes. “Did you tell him about the baby?”
I glanced away. “No.”
She gaped at me. “Honey!”
“I know. I should’ve told him but—”
“But—?”
“I got distracted!”
She gave me an unimpressed look. “That is the worst excuse ever. You got distracted? By what, his big cock?” When I glanced away again she tsk-tsk’d and shook her head. “You ho.”
I gave her a pointed look. “Speaking of hoes, how was your night?”
She shrugged it off as if it was nothing. “It was . . . you know . . . it was okay.”
She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice raised an octave, so I knew she was lying.
“Just okay?” I eyed her suspiciously because she wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Oh my God, you like him!”
Again, she tried to downplay it. “Of course I like him, I let him inside my vagina. Three times, to be precise.”
“But you like like him! I can tell.”
She avoided making eye contact with me and busied herself picking at the cushion on her lap.
“Don’t try to deny it. I’ve been your best friend for too long. I know when you like someone.”
She sighed. “Okay, so I like him.”
“But?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t expect to like him.”
Autumn had trouble with commitment.
“So are you going to see him again?”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” she said, cocking an eyebrow. “We’re talking about you telling Caleb about the baby you’re growing in your womb.”
I bit my bottom lip.
“You know, maybe I don’t need to tell him,” I said.
Autumn looked at me like I was crazy. “You’re joking, right?”
“Why do I need to tell him? I don’t need some guy to help me with this. I’m quite capable of raising this baby on my own.”