Lucky: Furious Skulls MC (A Bad Boy MC Biker Romance)

by Daniela Jackson

  “Your shoulder will do, old man,” I say as he opens my door and helps me out.

  I straighten and pain lashes my chest. A wheezing exhalation leaves my lungs. Blaze grabs my elbow and shakes his head like I’m a badly behaved kid, but deep concern clouds his eyes.

  We move towards the front door and enter the clubhouse. Tasha runs over to me and grabs my other elbow, helping me sit on the couch.

  She glides her palm over my cheek. “What’s happened to you?”

  “A long story,” I say.

  Her right eye twitches. ‘A long story’ is an expression in our club’s code that means ‘don’t ask any questions’. The girls who work here know the rules and obey them.

  “Do you want a drink?” Tasha asks in a dry voice. “Are you hungry?” She clenches her hands in front of her stomach. “Are you going to stay tonight? I’ll tell the girls to clean up your room.”

  Her voice irritates me to the point where I want to say something really nasty to her.

  “Yes, I’m going to stay tonight,” I say. “And I’m going to have a really proper sleep.”

  Monk emerges from the kitchen and walks towards me as Tasha shoots me a dark glance and backs up.

  Monk sits down beside me. “How is your lovely wife?”

  “Much better,” I say.

  Monk leans towards me. “She’ll chop your dick off when she regains her memory.”

  Tasha delivers drinks and sandwiches to our table. “Anything else?” Her voice has an unpleasant rough edge.

  “No, thank you, sweetheart,” Monk says.

  I glance up at her and see her cheeks turn red. Fucking hell. I’m not in the mood for any female drama.

  “Brass just said you’d gotten married,” Tasha says. “How is this even possible, huh? You’re still married to Sabrina.”

  “Brass was right,” Monk says. “And you’d better not be too nosey, sweetheart.” There is a hint of threat in his voice.

  Tasha’s face turns corpse-white as she grasps the concealed warning. Monk is a really nice guy when he’s in a good mood, but when he’s pissed off, that’s a different story. Tasha walks off.

  “Thanks, brother,” I say as I sink deeper into the couch.

  The pain is killing me. Monk hands me a glass of beer.

  “The boys know what to say,” Blaze says from the sofa opposite me. “We just need to sort the girls out.”

  The door of the clubhouse creaks open and three figures tumble inside the bar. My eyes sweep over Jax, the tall woman clinging to his arm, and Zane who’s carrying an unconscious woman in his arms.

  I rise to my feet and open my mouth to greet them, but Blaze shows me a shush gesture. Monk silences all the people in the bar and then he gets rid of Tasha and three other chicks so only the club brothers occupy the bar. The music stops playing, and I can hear Zane’s heavy breath.

  “Onto the couch,” Blaze says in a quiet voice, waving his hand.

  “What the fuck?” I mouth to him and raise my hands in a question.

  Zane lays the woman on the couch as the other woman kneels beside her on the floor and takes a syringe out of her bag. She injects the dense, white content of it into the cannula on the unconscious woman’s arm as Blaze wraps a navy blanket around her limp frame.

  My glance meets Zane’s. His jaw muscles twitch as his grey eyes flicker dangerously like he’s going to kill someone.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, keeping my voice quiet.

  “We needed to stop,” Zane says, “and The Grim Traveller was on our way.”

  “You’ve been busy so I didn’t tell you anything,” Blaze says.

  “Who is she?” I point my finger to the unconscious woman.

  “Brianna, my wife,” Zane says as he tosses back his long brown hair.

  “You have just drugged your wife,” I say as I shake my head.

  “She’ll remember very little,” the other woman says. Her face turns as red as a tomato as she clenches her hands against her round stomach and rises to her feet.

  Jax strokes her back with his hand in a soothing gesture.

  “My wife, Athena,” Jax says.

  The woman widens her dark eyes at him. She looks like she’s just learned about it.

  “My wife to be,” Jax says. He massages her round tummy with his hand. “My baby.” He nods at me, a drunken rabbit’s grin crossing his face.

  Fucking hell. I’m so stunned I can’t speak.

  “Take Brianna to my bedroom,” Monk says to Zane.

  Zane leans over his wife and scoops her up into his arms. She looks like she’s Spanish. A tiny Spanish thing.

  Monk leads Zane upstairs.

  “What kind of shit is this?” I ask.

  “Brianna is a Bratva princess,” Jax says, “and we’re taking her home where she belongs.”

  I look at Athena and she drops her eyes as her ears tint with a delicate pink.

  “She doesn’t want to go back home, right?” I say.

  “No not really,” Jax says.

  “Let’s eat and drink something,” Blaze says.

  Hale brings some sandwiches and orange juice from the kitchen, and we sit down around the table. Monk, Thunder and Python join us. Zane returns to us two minutes later.

  “Long time no see,” Hale says. “How’s Boulder and Axel?”

  “Boulder has reunited with Ma,” Zane says. “And Axel’s married.”

  “Fuck me,” Thunder says. “Axel married? Are you serious?”

  Zane nods. “Sive is a little thing but she’s tough enough to handle my brother.”

  “And you Jax?” Python asks but Jax seems to be preoccupied with licking off Athena’s skin.

  “What about you, Asher?” Zane asks.

  “I got divorced.” I say. “Well, sort off. And I’m married again. She’s… She’s a fucking little miracle. Michelle. Her name is Michelle.” I’m embarrassed by my openness, but Zane nods at me with a serious expression.

  “Good to see you happy, man,” Zane says.

  “We all have to act in a fucking masquerade to keep our kid happy,” Brass says. “He met a girl and she kind of wanted to escape from him. She had an accident and has amnesia now. That dick told her she was his wife. Can you imagine? Asher is bringing her home soon, and we practice our parts every evening so that she won’t realise that everything is a fucking lie.”

  The guys from the Shadow Wolves MC are like brothers to us so we can be honest. Jax is an honorary member of the Furious Skulls MC from time to time. He’s always been a recluse and prefers to be a Nomad. Now that I can see him with his wife… to be? I don’t know, he seems like a family man to me.

  Zane nods. “Sometimes you have to do crazy things to keep your woman by your side.”

  I can’t recognise the guy. He’s changed. He seems to be darker. Jax, on the other hand, is behaving like a teen in love. I’ve seen him wasted, on drugs, beneath two women, but I’ve never seen him in love.

  That woman, Athena, oozes the aura of pain, but I must admit she’s as beautiful as a Greek goddess, curvy in all the right places. As our glances meet, I feel like she’s my older sister. Something good radiates from her. Something sisterly or even motherly.

  “So you’re saying Axel has a wife?” I say.

  “And a son, Hawk,” Jax says. “Sive has Axel wrapped around her little finger. Man, you wouldn’t recognise him. He’s a very domesticated wolf now.”

  We eat the sandwiches and wash them down with the juice and beer.

  “I need to connect two bags of fluid,” Athena says.

  Chills go down my spine as Blaze rises to his feet and leads her to where Brianna is resting.

  “That’s fucking creepy, Zane,” I say.

  “Her father taught her how to fight and escape, Asher,” Zane says. “There was no other way.” He tosses back his hair and I see his hand tremble. “I married her, ya know, went even to confession before the wedding. I bought a nice apartment, ya know, really nice. Brianna will like i
t there. I will cook, clean, iron. She’ll be happy with me.” He nods as though he seeks confirmation from me.

  “She’ll break your jaws when she wakes up,” I say.

  “Michelle will chop off your dick and break your jaws when she regains her memory,” Hale says.

  Zane chuckles. “We’re gonna have a nap and leave as soon as we can.”

  “I’ll pack some food for you,” Monk says.

  They rest for two hours and leave the clubhouse as silent as ghosts.

  I feel like a bad man for a moment.

  Then I don’t feel anything.

  Zane is worse than me. If such an honourable, good guy as him can drug his own wife then I can lie to my wife.

  My pretty little wife. Heat centres on my dick. We’re gonna have a lot of fun together.

  Chapter 8

  Michelle

  Asher walks into my hospital room in the late afternoon. He sits down in the chair beside the bed and puts his elbows on the edge of the mattress.

  “Zero hour is tomorrow,” I say.

  “Everything is ready.”

  He watches me as silence layers us like we’re in the desert. My heart thumps in my ears. My cheeks start burning.

  I want to ask him so many questions, but I’m too ashamed. There is a disconnection between us like a glass wall preventing me from asking ‘Are we going to sleep in one bed?’ ‘Are we going to have sex together?’ ‘Do we really love each other?’

  “Where do we live exactly?” I ask.

  “On the outskirts of town. It’s a really nice area, occupied mainly by elderly people.”

  “Is the house big?”

  “Three-bedroom, but I’ll clean, don’t worry.”

  “I can clean.”

  I can. Somehow, I know I’ve cleaned a lot in life and I’m good at it.

  Asher shakes his head. “You can’t clean. You’re a little princess who should be taken care of. That’s why I’m your husband. You need me.” His voice is coated with humour, but I can sense a threatening tune.

  “I can’t clean?”

  “No.”

  “I think I can cook well.”

  “You don’t like cooking. I cook for you.”

  He perches on the bed and strokes my arm up and down. I feel breathless and… excited.

  “Why did you marry me then?” I ask. “I’m a parasite. The worst kind.”

  He leans towards me as he runs his knuckles down my cheek and then kisses my lips. My skin tingles and burns. His hot mouth moves to the angle of my jaw and he plants a wet kiss. As hot as a lick of fire. His hand grips the back of my neck.

  “I married you because I love being with you,” he says into my ear. “I married you because I love being inside your tight little cunt.”

  I suck in a breath as his hand squeezes my breast. My heart hammers in my chest. Heat surges through my veins, igniting my flesh, wreathing my pussy.

  The door creaks open and a nurse walks in. Asher drops back into the chair as she takes my blood pressure and then checks my heart rate and saturation.

  “Tomorrow is her big day,” the nurse says. “Happy, Mr Connon?”

  “Yes,” Asher says. “I can’t wait to have her only for myself.”

  The nurse chuckles as her full cheeks tint with a delicate red. “She’s a lucky girl to have such a lovely husband as you, Mr Connon.”

  “I’m lucky to have her,” Asher says. “She’s my lucky win.”

  His eyes meet mine and I see raw passion in his gaze. My heart fills with a mix of pain and beauty.

  “The discharge letter should be ready at 10 a.m., and the prescription can be collected from the pharmacy downstairs,” the nurse says.

  Asher rises to his feet and salutes her, evoking her laughter. “I guess it’s time for me to go so my girl can rest and gather her strength for her big day tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow,” I rasp.

  He leans over me, kisses me on the top of my head, and then walks off.

  Asher

  Her sweetness still lingers on my lips. I’m gonna wreck her tomorrow. Five times. Every hole.

  Blaze grins at me as I take the passenger seat.

  “One more night and she’s all yours,” he says, amusement coating his voice.

  “She’s so fucking sweet, Dad.”

  He grunts. “I wish I were younger. I could find myself such a sweet little flea too.”

  “Don’t even look at Michelle.”

  I know he wouldn’t lay his hands on my wife, but the possessive animal inside of me is stripped of rationality.

  Blaze looks at me with pity as he turns on the radio and rock music plays. It’s my favourite song ‘Afterlife’. It tells the story of a guy who loses his love, revenges her and dies. I think Michelle would love this song. We have so much in common, I’m sure. We just need to spend more time together and get to know each other better.

  The car pulls forward, and I drop off to sleep. Blaze wakes me when we park in front of The Grim Traveller. I shuffle up the stairs and then across the bar as Tasha obstructs my way.

  “Brass said your wife would be coming for a night or two,” she says. She takes a deep breath as her eye twitches. “I don’t need your fucking money. You should have asked. We’re friends, Asher. That means something. Friends help each other, you know, out of friendship.”

  “Buy yourself nice clothes, Tasha,” Blaze says from behind me, “and go on a vacation if you fancy.” His voice is cold as though he’s doing club business.

  Tasha grasps the hint at once. “I’ll stay.” She bobs her head, “but I’ll buy myself a new washing machine and an expensive winter coat.”

  Yes, she’s a smart girl. All the girls we employed are smart. Smart enough so as not to ask any questions.

  Tasha and I have been friends since she started working for us. We never fucked. She’s not a slut and the boys sometimes call her a snow queen. She’s a smart, hard-working girl who likes a biker lifestyle, but doesn’t like spreading her legs for everyone. As far as I know, Python has banged her a few times. The guy doesn’t talk much in general, and he never talks about Tasha. I saw her leaving his room at dawn a few times, that’s all.

  Blaze bows his head and Tasha goes to stand behind the bar.

  I’m pleasantly surprised by her attitude but I also understand why Blaze wants her to keep the money. It will tie her to our shit—such a psychological manipulation. People take dirty money and become as dirty as that money. Not to mention our mafia connections. Abramo’s hitman is well-known in our circles for his talents to clean up people.

  I go to my room and fall down onto the mattress. Pain lashes my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs. Darkness falls upon me, cutting me off from reality.

  In the early morning, Blaze wakes me and we get in his car.

  My heart hammers in my chest. My hands sweat. My girl will be with me at last.

  The drive passes in silence. Blaze is like this. He says things short and straight when they have to be said and in the meantime, he indulges himself in silence.

  The car stops and I thread my fingers through my hair. It’s time to bring my girl home at last.

  As I walk into Michelle’s room, she’s sitting in the chair, dressed in a hoody and a pair of jeans. The discharge letter rustles in her hand.

  “Hi,” I say.

  She rises to her feet, her face corpse-white and she holds her lips tightly together.

  I throw my arm over her back, kissing her temple as Blaze picks up her bag.

  “Let’s go,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

  We leave the hospital, and I shove Michelle into the back seat of the car, sitting beside her. We fasten the seatbelts.

  Michelle’s lower lip quivers, so I lean towards her and kiss her. She yelps into my mouth.

  “I don’t bite,” I say.

  Blaze chuckles from the driver’s seat.

  “I know,” she says. “You’re my husband after all.”

  That s
eductive rasping in her voice. I want her to scream out my name like this when she cums on my cock. I draw her closer to me and crush her lips with mine. My tongue thrusts in and I devour that sweet mouth of hers.

  We’re kissing and kissing like there’s no space and no time.

  I’ve never been a fan of kissing, but Michelle is so sweet that I want to kiss her all the fucking time.

  I can’t recall my way when Blaze parks in front of The Grim Traveller. I tear my mouth off Michelle’s with a wet sound. Her smell pervades my nostrils and layers my skin, so tempting and intriguing. Her taste still lingers on my lips. Her cheeks are red from my facial hair.

  Soon, her thighs will be spread for me and her cunt will be drenched and greedy for my hard cock to stretch it.

  Heat shoots to my dick at the memory of her tight pussy clenched around him.

  Michelle

  Asher gets off and helps me, holding his hand out, and then leads me inside the bar. The name of it rings in my head like a warning. The sense of familiarity the interior evokes in me oscillates in my veins like an eerie energy. I stifle the urge to escape.

  Men surround me—crude, unshaven, and massive. They hug me and kiss me on the cheek, scratching my skin with their beards. A woman approaches us. Her eyes gleam with fury for a moment, but then her lips curl into a genuine smile.

  “You probably can’t remember me,” she says, kissing both my cheeks, “But we’re friends. My name is Tasha if you can’t remember.”

  I don’t introduce myself to her. She must know me better than I do.

  “Celine has cooked her signature chicken stew,” Tasha says.

  Asher encircles my waist with his arm as he kisses me on the cheek and the gesture makes Tasha roll her eyes.

  “Hungry?” he asks. “You must be very hungry.”

  He pulls forward, moving me towards a door at the flank of the bar. We enter a kitchen as a petite redhead that looks forty years old greets us.

  “Celine,” she says and looks at me as though I’m some extraterrestrial being.

  “Michelle,” I say.

  “We know each other,” Celine says as her voice falters. “We’re… friends.”

  If she says so then I’m not gonna argue.

  She points her hand to an enormous, antique table, and I drop into a Victorian chair.