Biker Baby (The Kings of Mayhem MC Book 3)

by Penny Dee

  Now I had a day of nothingness stretching out before me. Nothing to do but put my feet up and forget about cupcakes and customers, and running around trying to make everything work and ensure all the pieces to fit.

  I sighed and lost myself in the relaxation as the water pounded over my shoulders, the steam seductively drawing me into a euphoric trance.

  Despite my exhaustion, my body ached with longing.

  Weeks of no sex was playing havoc with my body, and it was tight with need. I let my hand slide between my legs and felt the flare of pleasure as my fingers brushed over my achy clit. I exhaled deeply and moaned as another surge rolled through me. My fingers were a poor substitute for Caleb, but they would have to do because I needed an orgasm, and as soon as I pressed against my clit, I knew it wasn’t going to take long. I bit down on my bottom lip and closed my eyes, letting my mind wander free. Letting it imagine whatever it wanted. With whomever it wanted.

  And apparently that was Caleb.

  Caleb touching me.

  Caleb claiming my mouth with his mouth.

  Caleb touching my body with his body.

  I pictured him in the bathroom with me. His glorious body naked amongst the steam. His face dark with heated promise, his eyes molten with desire. Beneath his touch my body creamed. Desire roared through me. My body trembled and I started to come. I fell against the wet-tiled wall and cried out, my orgasm slowly sending me to the floor of the shower in a weakened, quivering mess.

  I took a moment for my heartbeat to calm and my breathing to even out. And then I started to laugh. Loud. I felt relieved. The tight, antsy need was gone, and in its place were softened, loosened limbs and a mind lost in a post-orgasmic haze.

  Feeling deliciously content, I peeled myself off the floor and got myself dried and dressed, ready to make some dinner and settle in front of the TV for the rest of the afternoon.

  To my surprise, Caleb was in the kitchen when I came out of the bathroom. I was surprised because I hadn’t heard him come in. Standing at the kitchen sink, he was shirtless and in nothing but a pair of jeans sitting low on his hips. He was drinking coffee, his broad back to me, his big muscles pulling and tensing with every movement.

  Even after the delicious orgasm I’d just had, my clit throbbed and my muscles ached to be fucked.

  I stopped walking and my cheeks reddened, the thought just occurring to me. Had he heard me moan in the shower? The walls were paper-thin in our apartment, I knew this because Caleb didn’t realize I could hear his moans when he jerked off in the shower in the mornings. And I had been quite vocal mid-orgasm.

  “Hey,” I said, leaning a hip against the counter.

  He turned around and his hard chest and ridiculous six-pack gleamed in the late afternoon light.

  “Hey, yourself.” He smiled. “Coffee?”

  I pulled a face. “No, thanks. If I have even a drop it’ll make me vomit.” I rubbed my belly. Last week I couldn’t get enough black coffee. This week, not so much. “Your baby is fussy.”

  At the mention of his baby, his grin got even bigger but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there looking hot as fuck.

  And I was no match for that damn smile.

  My pussy throbbed, my clit ached.

  Self-gratification and fingers be fucked. I needed cock.

  With one thing on my mind, I went to him and mashed my mouth to his, completely taking him by surprise. He moaned, and for a moment he hesitated, but as my tongue swept into his mouth and my hard nipples pressed against the thick muscle of his naked chest, he dropped the cup into the sink and wrapped his powerful arms around me. He kissed me hard. Groaning into my mouth. Making me wet. Making me dizzy. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. It was like my hormones had flipped some kind of concubine switch inside of me. I wanted sex. And I wanted it all the time. With him.

  Thankfully, Caleb wanted it, too, judging by the hardness pressing into my shorts as he carried me to his bedroom. When he set me down on the bed, I wasted no time unbuckling his belt and getting him out of his black pants.

  I wasn’t supposed to want this. We’d agreed to keep things nonphysical and stop having sex, yadda fucking yadda, but I was powerless against the force of him.

  “This isn’t us keeping it platonic,” he said against my lips.

  “I don’t want to think about it,” I replied, lost in the sensation of his skin against my skin and the desperate throb between my thighs. It’d been weeks since he’d touched me, and even though I knew it was wrong, my body was desperate for the relief only he could give me.

  Just one more time.

  “We suck at this no-sex thing,” he said, caging me in his big arms as he looked down at me.

  I pulled him back down to me. Mindless. Primal. Powerless.

  “Less talking, more fucking,” I said, gripping his ass as I pushed his giant cock into me.

  The light snapped on, illuminating the room and waking me up.

  I opened my eyes. “Mom?”

  “Yes, my sweet-faced girl. It’s your momma,” my mom sang as she swept into the room.

  I sat up, confused. It was the middle of the night.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, rubbing my sleepy eyes.

  “Things are more than okay, my darling girl.” She went to the small wardrobe up against the wall and pulled down an old suitcase. “In fact, things couldn’t be any better!”

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  She smiled happily and dropped the suitcase. Crossing the room, she sat on the edge of the bed and drew me close to her.

  “How would you like to live in a house, Honey? With two bathrooms and your very own room?”

  She was beaming.

  “My own room?”

  “Yep. And a pool in the backyard.”

  My eyes widened. That sounded like a dream.

  “But how?” I asked.

  Her smile grew even bigger. In this light, her gold jewelry gleamed but it was nothing like the gleam in her smile.

  “Oh, my darling, his name is Henry and I am in love with him. So very much in love with him. And he loves me.” She wiped my fringe out of my eyes. “And he will love you, too.”

  “Who is Henry?”

  Mom hadn’t mentioned him before now.

  “He is a lovely man Mommy met at one of the places she visits, you know that. I’ve mentioned him before.”

  She hadn’t. But I nodded anyway. Because I liked when Mom was in one of her good moods and I didn’t want to upset her.

  “He wants to marry me. And we are going to live in his big, beautiful house. I’ve been there before. Oh, you should see it, Honey. It’s so wonderful. Like one of those houses you see in the magazines. It’s white with little blue shutters on the windows, and rooms the size of our entire apartment.” Mom was excited, I could tell, because her eyes were wide and bright. “He’s coming to pick us up in his car tonight, Honey. So we need to pack all of our things, okay.”

  She pulled me into her arms and squeezed me against her until I could barely breathe.

  I loved my mom when she was like this. Happy. Fun-loving. Affectionate.

  But it never lasted.

  I climbed out of bed and packed up all of my things out of the wardrobe I shared with my mom. It didn’t take very long because I didn’t own very much. In fact, it all fit into the one little suitcase. But it was fun, because Mom was singing as she packed up her belongings, and she would talk about all the things we had to look forward to. A new home. Garden parties. A real family.

  Once we were packed up, we sat at the little table where we ate our meals. But the minutes ticked by slowly and I grew tired waiting for him to show up, and my body started to ache for sleep. Not that I showed my mom. Because she was already beginning to look sad with every minute that passed.

  In the end, Henry never turned up that night.

  Or the next day.

  In fact, he never showed up ever again.

  A few days later I came home fro
m to find my mom sitting at the small table again, smoking her cigarettes and crying. She held a glass of liquor in her hand and ice tinkled every time she raised it to her painted red lips. She was dressed in her tight red dress and her gleaming red high heels with her hair swept up off her face. But as I got closer I could see her mascara had run down her face and her fake eyelashes were coming off one eye.

  She was slurring.

  I joined her and dumped my school bag on the table, awkwardly climbing onto the chair because I was only seven years old and sometimes I still had difficulty moving heavy things like the chair. Mom sniffed and took another sip of her drink, then sucked back more of her cigarette. Beside the ashtray was a pamphlet for a clinic somewhere in town. Family Planning, it said. I didn’t know what it was for or why my mom would need it, but I didn’t ask.

  “Never trust a man, Honey,” she said bitterly. “They always say one thing but then do another. They’ll tell you what they think you want to hear. They don’t want to be assholes so they’ll say one thing knowing full well they’re not going to follow through. It’s about saving face, you see. When confronted with a situation, they want to be the good guy. The hero. But then reality sinks in and they forget all of that the first chance they get.”

  She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and drained her glass. Then rising unsteadily to her feet, she wobbled across the small apartment and disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  My eyes snapped open, startled awake by the slamming of the door in my dream.

  Never trust a man, Honey.

  They always say one thing but then do another.

  I sat up

  My mom resented having me.

  On her thirty-fourth birthday, she let me go. Sent me out into the world and told me it was time to fend for myself.

  And I had been doing that ever since.

  I never saw my mom.

  She was somewhere in Vegas. Smoking her hand-rolled cigarettes and visiting another bottle of bourbon, no doubt, while dressing up in her shortest outfit and visiting the local casinos and bars always on the hunt for another date and another drink. From the moment I was born she resented me and never missed a chance to remind me how I’d ruined her life.

  When I met Autumn, life took an upward turn. Her family became my family and I was given a sense of what family meant. Holidays. Vacations. Christmases spent making snowmen in freshly fallen snow and drinking eggnog by a roaring fire. Support. Love. Laughter. Her mom became the mom I never had, and ten years later we were still close. She was the reason I was well-adjusted and remained relatively unscathed by my childhood.

  I sighed, my heart heavy. As much as I tried not to think about growing up with my mom, the pain lingered.

  I glanced at Caleb lying next to me. He was sound asleep, the sheet wrapped around his hips and his glorious torso exposed.

  He will resent you.

  I heard my mom’s voice as plain as if she was in the room with me.

  You’re forcing him to be with you.

  I pulled back the sheets and climbed out of bed.

  Having a baby was a mistake. It ruined everything.

  And I walked out of his room and into mine.

  If this was going to work, I had to keep Caleb at arm’s length and not confuse the situation with emotions. We weren’t together. We were two people who happened to be having a baby together.

  Nothing more.

  And I was best to remember that.

  HONEY

  I placed the piece of paper down on the table in front of him.

  “What is this?” Caleb asked, his coffee cup paused halfway to his mouth.

  “It’s a contract,” I said. “A fully non-negotiable, fully binding contract.”

  “A contract for what?”

  “Read it.”

  He picked it up and began to read. “I, Honey Bee Scott, hereby agree that I will not have anymore sex or heavy make-out sessions with one Caleb Randy Calley.” He looked at me over the paper. “You really wrote and signed this?”

  I nodded. “Keep reading.”

  “I, Caleb Randy Calley, hereby agree to not have anymore sex or heavy make-out sessions with the above, Honey Bee Scott.” He shook his head. “I’m not signing this.”

  “You have to!”

  “Why?”

  “So we stop having sex!”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “That’s the worst argument ever. I love sex. And I love having sex with you.”

  “We have to stop or we are going to seriously fuck things up.” I folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the counter. “And clearly I can’t be trusted to control myself. These hormones are making me crazy. Crazy for sex. I need help.”

  It was a ridiculous concept. The contract. But I was desperate. I needed someone to help me keep my hands off my ridiculously fuckable roommate.

  He stood up and took a step toward me. He wore his usual pair of belted black pants sitting low on his hips. Heat radiated off his naked chest and a pulse took up between my thighs as he stepped between my knees.

  “It hasn’t complicated things so far,” he said.

  My arms fell to my side. “Caleb . . .”

  I went to protest, but without a word he cupped my face in his big hands and pressed his lips to mine. I refused to kiss him back, no matter how much I wanted to, and kept my lips glued shut.

  “Kiss me . . .” he whispered against my lips.

  I opened my mouth to argue, but his tongue swept in and his lips took command. And because I have absolutely zero self-discipline whatsoever, I melted against him, my body begging for more. I was so damn turned on it was ridiculous. He hoisted me up onto the counter and pressed himself against me.

  “We shouldn’t,” I moaned against his mouth, while at the same time fumbling with the buckle of his belt.

  “Yes, we should,” he breathed, his hands holding my face to his. “I haven’t signed your damn contract yet.”

  He swooped me up in his arms, kissing me fiercely as he walked us out of the kitchen, through the living room and to his bedroom. At the doorway I wriggled to my feet and took a step away from him. I put my hand on his broad chest to keep some space between us, and shook my head.

  “I mean it, Caleb,” I said breathlessly while looking at him pleadingly. “We have to think seriously about what we’re doing.”

  “I am thinking very seriously about what I’m doing.” He raised an eyebrow. “And what I am about to do.”

  His black pants were tented at the front, his desire on full display, and my insides throbbed with need.

  “Please,” I begged. I could barely breathe with want.

  He scrubbed his hands down his face. “Fine.”

  “Really?”

  He stepped back to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “We’ll do it your way. For now.”

  CALEB

  I was hard as fuck and Honey was standing there in a tiny pair of shorts and a barely there top, telling me we couldn’t take this any farther. Jesus Christ, talk about blue balls. I sighed. Even after a full night of lovemaking the night before, my body still ached for her. I didn’t know what it was about Honey but it was fucking hard work keeping my hands off her.

  But she was insisting we remain friends, not lovers, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to press her about it. If she wanted to keep things platonic, then I was going to respect her wishes.

  For now.

  But once our baby was born, I was going to be merciless in my pursuit of her.

  Frustrated, I took a shower. I stood under the water feeling hot and prickly, and had to take care of my raging hard-on myself. With one hand pressed against the shower tiles and the other wrapped around my cock, I began to stroke. It didn’t take long, and my knees went soft and my climax hit me like a truck. I groaned and it reverberated around the bathroom as thick ropes of cum shot out of my cock and onto my fisted hand.

  It was never as good as the real thing, though, but so
mething told me I’d be doing a lot of this until Honey got over this platonic bullshit.

  CALEB

  On a Saturday about five weeks after I moved into Honey’s apartment, Tully married Heidi, one of the actresses from Head Quarters.

  Now, when you belong to an MC, getting married is a big fucking deal.

  We might be bikers and we might be rough. Hell, we might be so far from what you might think is suitable in society. But whatever you thought of us, the Kings of Mayhem knew how to throw a fucking party.

  And Tully and Heidi’s wedding gave us the chance to throw a huge one!

  Tully, our Coke-bottle glasses wearing club member, was in a seventies’ tuxedo, a powder-blue polyester get-up with wide lapels, a ruffled shirt with frills, and a black tie. While his wife-to-be towered over him in a barely there, tight white dress, her hem high and her long legs traveling on forever. Diamonds glittered in a garter wrapped around a smooth, exposed thigh. And she carried a bouquet of black roses Mrs. Stephens had ordered in from New Orleans.

  Cade and I stood beside them in our black suits, white shirts without ties, and suspenders. While Heidi’s two bridesmaids wore what Honey would call romper suits. They were made out of some black, flimsy fabric, were short, and showed a hell of a lot of boob.

  Officiating the ceremony was Father Murphy, the kindly priest who had married and buried members from the Kings of Mayhem for as far back as I could remember. He was a cool dude. Not judgy or ready to rain down fire and brimstone at our morally corrupt ways. He took everything in with quiet acceptance. He knew what we were. What we did. And there was no judgment. Although I often saw him do the sign of the cross whenever something rattled his moral compass. And let’s face it, today he was marrying an adult entertainment actress to a biker in a room full of MC family and friends, as well as people from the porn industry. There was going to be a lot of cross signing.

  Watching Heidi and Tully exchange their vows, I looked out over the sea of faces watching the ceremony and scanned them for Honey. She was sitting next to Maverick toward the back of the room. He had asked Autumn to be his plus-one, but so far she had avoided his pleas for another date. I looked at Honey sitting there in her breezy yellow dress and couldn’t help but smile. I don’t know why. Just that whenever I saw her, it made me feel good.