Biker Baby (The Kings of Mayhem MC Book 3)

by Penny Dee

“Friends who are having a baby.”

  “And no sex?”

  “Not by choice.” He gave me a raised eyebrow. “But yes, no sex. Just friends. Let’s start again. Take it from there.”

  I smiled across at him and when he smiled back I wondered if our baby would have the same captivating dimpled grin. I looked away because that smile was too enticing, and picked at a loose piece of mozzarella on my plate.

  When I looked up, he was looking at me. “What?”

  His bright blue eyes glittered across the table. “I just realized how very little I know about you.”

  “Likewise.”

  “And it seems crazy because now we’re going to have a baby.”

  “What do you want to know? Ask me anything.”

  He thought for a moment, and I was struck by how handsome he was in the mood lighting of the restaurant.

  “Okay, where were you born?” he asked.

  “Vegas,” I answered. “You?”

  “Right here in Destiny. What’s your birthdate?”

  “July 30.”

  “You’re kidding. I’m July 31.”

  “So we’re two Leo’s. See, it would never work between us.”

  “No?” he asked.

  “Passionate and fiery. We’d never get out of the bedroom.”

  “Sounds pretty perfect to me.” He grinned and desire swept through me.

  My smile faded. How the hell was I going to keep things platonic when all I wanted to do was climb onto his lap?

  “Tell me something about yourself that will surprise me,” I said.

  “Like?”

  “Like . . . I don’t know . . . have you ever been to prison?”

  He paused and then shifted in the red vinyl booth, his attention dropping to the beer bottle in front of him. “Yes.”

  A strange tingle took up in the pit of my stomach. By the look on his face, he wasn’t joking.

  “Really?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. The comment had been flippant. I didn’t expect him to say yes.

  “I got two years for assault and served eight months.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t be sorry. I own what I did. And I would do it again.”

  I wanted to ask him why he was sent to prison but didn’t want to make the situation any more awkward. Thankfully, he decided to share it with me anyway.

  “I was in my second year of college. I was at a party when a douchebag by the name of Jesper Mitchell raped a friend of mine while she was passed out in a bed upstairs. I walked in on him raping her. She was out cold. He told me I’d have to wait my turn. He started swinging at me when I hauled him off her. So I swung back. I swung back until he was unconscious.”

  “And you did time for that?”

  “No, those charges were dropped. It was when I defended myself against the police officer who turned up afterwards. He was Mitchell’s uncle. He roughed me up, so I fought back. Unfortunately, the whole thing coincided with a ‘more respect for the law’ campaign being run by the local government. So the judge threw the book at me, and I got two years for breaking the jaw of a police officer.”

  “What happened to the man who raped your friend?”

  “Nothing.” Caleb’s jaw ticked. “Not a goddamn thing. The investigation was a mess from the start. I was the only witness and I was a violent criminal, apparently. So it became a case of he said, he said. In the end, the judge threw it out of court for lack of evidence.”

  I shook my head. Sometimes the law didn’t make any sense.

  When I was in college, a similar thing happened to a classmate of mine at an off-campus party. She woke up to one of the football stars raping her. When she’d made an official complaint, the school and the student body wrapped themselves around the sports hero who was in school on a scholarship. He became the victim and she was ostracized. The police investigation was brutal for her and ended nowhere. She left college four months later and returned home to Iowa. A year later, the football player did it again. When the newest victim reached out to her, they joined forces and together they ensured he got what he deserved. He went to prison and they moved on with their lives.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I said quietly.

  “Don’t be.” He smiled, and again I was swept away by how beautiful it was. Caleb Calley was gorgeous. “I put it behind me.”

  We were quiet for a moment. It wasn’t awkward. It was almost as if we were somehow closer. More familiar. Our lives had collided like two atoms and now we were fusing them even closer together.

  “Can you believe we made a baby?” I asked.

  “It’s blown my mind.” He shook his head. “Especially when I know I used a lot of protection that night.”

  “Four condoms, if memory serves.”

  A smile whispered on his lips. “Man, we’re greedy.”

  I dragged my teeth across my bottom lip wondering if he was concerned about the possibility of sexually transmitted diseases.

  “I haven’t been with anyone since you,” I said. “And Dr. Perry tested for everything when he confirmed my pregnancy. Gave me the all clear. Thankfully. Finding out Charlie had been fucking other people for two years really scared me.”

  “I recently got checked. You’re probably not going to believe me, but I’ve never had sex without protection.”

  We used four condoms the night we met. It was believable. But condoms weren’t infallible, obviously, or we wouldn’t be sitting there having this conversation.

  “Not even with drunken encounters?”

  “Nope. I grew up in an MC. I overheard things as a kid and decided early on I wasn’t going to be getting shots of penicillin because I didn’t wrap before I —” He stopped himself from finishing his sentence, realizing how crude it was. He gave me a crooked grin. “You get the picture.”

  I nodded and smiled, but then it faded when I wondered about how many women he’d slept with.

  I looked at my watch. It was late. We’d lost almost three hours in the restaurant already.

  “We should go,” I said, standing up.

  “Before we go, can I ask you something?” he asked.

  He rose to his feet and the look he gave me was pure heat.

  He leaned in. “Does your no-sex rule start tonight. Or do we have the rest of the evening to make the most of it?”

  I knew I had to keep things platonic between us and end these insane sexual encounters, but I couldn’t help but be enticed by my desire for him.

  A wicked excitement lit up inside of me.

  We had tonight, but come tomorrow we were nothing more than friends.

  HONEY

  We drove back to my apartment as quickly as possible. Sexual tension filled the car with a thrumming pulse, urging us to get home fast. As he drove, Caleb slid his hand over my thigh and I parted my legs wider, welcoming the touch of his hands on my skin. As his fingers pushed beneath the satin of my panties a shiver rippled through me and I bit down on my lip, desperate for him to be inside me.

  A groan left him when he felt how wet I was. “Christ, you’re so wet just from me touching you.”

  His eyes were hooded. His lips wet from his tongue sliding across them. And when we stopped at a set of traffic lights he had to use his other hand to adjust the erection tenting the front of his pants.

  As we left the lights, his finger slid into me, teasing my clit with tantalizing swirls, my body tightening around him when he pushed into me again.

  “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come,” I breathed. The tension was building in me with every maddening stroke against my clit, with every push of his fingers into my body. My feet dug into the floor of the car, my hands tightened around the seat. I parted my thighs wider and slowly rocked my hips to meet every torturous touch.

  “Come for me, baby,” he coaxed hoarsely.

  He detonated my orgasm with one final press of his thumb against my clit. My head fell back and my eyes closed, my moa
ns filling the car. Consumed by my climax, my hands gripped the seat so hard my fingers ached.

  “You’re fucking beautiful,” Caleb moaned while expertly guiding the car through the streets toward my apartment. He rubbed the outline of his hard cock again. “I’m hard as fuck and I’m desperate to be inside you.”

  He pulled up into my parking space and we kissed passionately outside the car, then again on the stairs leading to the second floor. But we were both desperate to get inside, so we ran up the stairs and I hurriedly dug into my handbag for my keys.

  Shoving the key into the door, I quickly unlocked it, but as soon as I stepped inside, I came to a stop.

  Call it a sixth sense but somehow I knew someone had been in my apartment while we were gone.

  I glanced around, looking for anything that might be out of place, but everything looked normal.

  Yet…

  “What’s wrong?” Caleb asked.

  “Someone has been in here.”

  Caleb’s body language changed. He stiffened. His eyes darted around the room.

  “Is something missing?” he asked, crossing the room to check the windows and opening the bedroom doors to look inside.

  I glanced around and felt a shiver creep across my skin.

  “No. It doesn’t look like it.”

  Caleb checked the bathroom. When he came back into the room he shook his head. “Everything looks secure. Are you sure someone has been in here?”

  Fear tickled my spine and I folded my arms across my chest. It sounded crazy, even when I could see nothing had been moved or taken. I just knew someone had been inside the apartment when we were out.

  That’s when I saw it.

  Or should I say, didn’t see it.

  The meatloaf.

  After burning it, I had left it on the counter to cool while we were out. But the meatloaf wasn’t there and after looking around the kitchen, I found it in the garbage bin.

  “Are you sure you didn’t put it in there before we left?” Caleb asked.

  Was I?

  “I’m sure,” I said. But even as the words left my mouth I started to doubt myself. Had I thrown it out and just forgotten? I was preoccupied, so it was a possibility.

  Caleb checked the window overlooking the kitchen and it wasn’t locked. It lifted up, and a cool breeze blew in from outside. We looked at each other. Someone could’ve easily gained entry by climbing through it.

  But why break in to throw away a burnt meatloaf?

  That would have to be the weirdest MO ever.

  “Where do you keep your spare change?” he asked. “If it’s missing, we’ll know someone has been in here. Thieves aren’t going to leave any available cash behind.”

  I kept my change in a pottery dish on the coffee table. The few dimes and nickels were still there, but my necklace, the one Autumn’s mom had given me for Christmas a few years ago, was missing. And I distinctly remembered taking it off that afternoon and placing it in the dish.

  My necklace is missing,” I said. “It’s a silver Tree of Life symbol surrounded by a circle of diamonds. I took it off and put it in there this afternoon because it kept snagging on my collar.”

  After checking my bedroom dresser, my jewelry box, and in the bathroom, there was no doubt it was gone. I looked at Caleb and couldn’t hide the worry from my face.

  “Someone has definitely been in here,” I said, shakily. And they had deliberately thrown the meatloaf in the trash to let me know they had been. “Do you think it was Amy?”

  He shook his head. “Not after the scare she got when three men in Kings of Mayhem cuts rode up on bikes and demanded all your stuff back.”

  “Then if it wasn’t her,” I couldn’t hide my panic. “Who broke into my apartment and why?”

  HONEY

  I lay frozen in my bed. My body stiff with fear. My limbs so rigid I thought they might snap. I heard the sound of glass breaking, more yelling, and then sobbing. It was my mom. She was crying again. Because he was hurting her over and over. With his words. And then with his fists. I wanted to go to her. To help her. But the last time I stood up to him I’d felt the back of his hand on my face and the cut from the skull ring on his finger. It had sliced into me and given me a cut on my cheek that needed five stitches. Mom had cried and told me she was sorry. But still she invited him back into the house the very next day when he turned up with a bottle of liquor for her and a stupid stuffed toy for me.

  Now they were at it again.

  I pulled the quilt over my head and pressed my palms over my ears.

  When the air was gone and I needed to resurface for fresh air, I pulled the quilt down, and to my horror came face to face with the man who’d tortured my mom and me for the last six months.

  Mom’s boyfriend.

  He was standing over my bed, smoking his cigarette and looking down at me.

  “No,” I breathed, terrified.

  I could see it in his face. The gleam in his eyes. The energy radiating off him. I squeezed my legs together. I knew what he was there for and it terrified me. I was twelve and just waking up to what that look meant in the eyes of boys and men. I was well developed for my age. Mrs. Butler, our neighbor, said I was blooming.

  Whatever it was, I hated it. Because it made boys and grown men look at me with that very look in their eyes.

  “Go away,” I demanded, shaking.

  He just sucked on his cigarette and grinned, evilly. I could see the sweat beading on his forehead and dribbling past his temples, and when he smiled, his teeth were yellow. He snickered and flicked his cigarette onto the carpet. When his hands clamped over my mouth, I could smell nicotine and grease. I tried to fight. I screamed. I kicked. I fought with all my might, but it was no use. He was stronger and easily overpowered me. He held me down and stuck his disgusting mouth on mine. I thrashed. I snapped my head from side to side.

  I. Fought. Hard.

  But it wasn’t me who stopped him.

  It was my mom with a frying pan from the kitchen.

  With an over-the-head whack, she knocked him out cold and he fell in a slump to the floor.

  I went to her and threw my arms around her, looking for comfort, looking for reassurance. But she shook her head and pushed me away.

  “Having a baby was a mistake,” she said. “It ruined everything.” And with that, she untangled my arms from her waist. “Come on, you can sleep at Mrs. Butler’s tonight.”

  I sat up with a rush, thankfully in my own bed.

  It took me a moment.

  It was a dream.

  A stupid, silly dream.

  Except it wasn’t.

  My mom’s boyfriend really had come into my room when I was twelve and tried forcing himself onto me. And just as I’d dreamed, my mom had knocked him out cold with a frying pan. She locked him in my bedroom and took me to Mrs. Butler’s apartment across the hallway and left me there for the night.

  I ran a hand through my hair and waited for my breathing to even out.

  Having a baby was a mistake.

  Those words cut me to the bone.

  And the worst thing was, it wasn’t the only time she had said them to me.

  I exhaled in another attempt to calm my pounding heart, my head dropping to my hands as the pain of my childhood lingered around me. Sometimes in moments of heightened stress, the memories came back to haunt me.

  The comforting stroke of tender fingers down my arm pulled me back to reality, and I looked up.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Caleb’s husky voice was warm in the cold darkness.

  Last night after the break-in, I’d been rattled and worked up, anxious about a stranger invading my home. Caleb had comforted me, and tried to put my mind at ease by suggesting the break-in was probably just kids. Then he’d held me until I’d fallen asleep on the bed, wrapped in the security of his big arms.

  I looked down at him and ached to feel those strong arms around me again.

  “Bad dream.” My voice was hoarse. Loaded with
sleep and anxiety.

  He rolled onto his back, and with a big, muscular arm, guided me down to the heat of his chest. Immediately, comfort wrapped itself around me.

  “Want to tell me about it?” he asked.

  I thought for a moment. Did I?

  No.

  What I wanted was him.

  For him to chase away the demons lurking in the shadows.

  For him to lead me further away from my past.

  For him to hold me tight against his warm and powerful body, and to feverishly kiss the anxiety out of me.

  I pressed my body against him.

  For him to make love to me until the shadows were gone and I could breathe again.

  CALEB

  I only meant to comfort her. She was shaken. Disturbed by the break-in.

  But when my lips brushed against hers, the tenderness of our kiss quickly ignited into a roaring flame and it became less about comfort and everything about the desire tearing through me.

  I kissed her hard and she whimpered against my mouth, moaning as she shifted around me in the bed. I could feel her hunger. Feel the pounding of her heart and the desperation in how she held my face to hers as we kissed wildly. The urgency of our earlier touching and teasing was back. But there was something else. Something primal roaring out of her, something she was running from, because she was running to me like she was being chased out of the shadows by a monster. I could feel her desperation, feel her need, her fear.

  It made me pause to make sure she was alright. With my hand cupping her face, I pulled back to look at her. “Hey. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Her hand slid down my belly and over the hard ridge of my cock.

  “I need you,” she breathed desperately. Fingers curled around me, gently pumping me, coaxing me, making me want to rip the bed sheets from us and devour her.

  But I fought the voracious need in me to take her. Something told me she needed more than that. She needed something to cling onto in the darkness. With a groan I rose up onto my knees and flipped her onto her back. I started from her neck, at that soft area between her jaw and ear, and slowly worked my way down her slender throat. I trailed my tongue along her warm flesh, sliding it between her breasts and licking the skin of her cleavage as I grabbed a full, milky breast in my hand. I captured a tight, pink nipple between my lips and tortured it with my tongue until Honey was writhing beneath me, begging me to fuck her.