Kendall stiffened, but remained silent. Once their orders were placed, Christopher and Johnnie began stilted conversation. It was so hard to enjoy the evening, knowing how unhappy Kendall was because they were at a diner. Johnnie had to give Christopher and Megan credit. They never complained about the places Johnnie and Kendall chose.
Christopher whispered in Megan’s ear, grinning when she flushed. Johnnie could only imagine the dirty words his brother had spoken.
“Outlaw?”
Turning his attention away from Megan, Christopher raised his head and looked the stranger up and down. His cut proclaimed him enforcer. He sported a full beard and a brownish-blond ponytail.
“Yeah?” Christopher answered. “Who the fuck you be?”
“Randolph,” the biker answered. He held out his hand.
Christopher stared at it.
“Enforcer for the Imperials.”
Still, Christopher didn’t take Randolph’s proffered hand, while Megan bowed her head and allowed her hair to hide most of her features. Johnnie knew she did this on Christopher’s instructions. Her identity would be easy enough to discover, but Christopher didn’t want to make her too much of an easy target for their enemies.
Digging in his cut, Christopher pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Clearly, he knew who the Imperials were, when Johnnie didn’t. Unless they were the new club, recently come to town, wreaking havoc with some of the other clubs.
“One hand shake,” Randolph insisted.
“Ain’t interested, so get the fuck outta my fuckin’ face.”
Randolph dropped his hand. “My prez been trying to meet with you.”
“Good for fuckin’ him,” Christopher growled. “Still ain’t fuckin’ interested. You run women, motherfucker, so get the fuck outta my goddamn face.”
“All prez wants is the protection of the Dwellers.”
“For the last fuckin’ time, ain’t fuckin’ interested, so get the fuck outta my face.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Randolph bit out. “The Dwellers either help us…” His voice trailed off and he smiled. “Or not.”
Fed up, Christopher shot from his seat, which forced Johnnie to stand, too.
“Listen up, motherfucker,” Christopher snarled, grabbing Randolph by the cut, and bringing all activity in the place to a halt. “Ain’t got the patience for your subtle fuckin’ threats. You want fuckin’ beef with me, say it. Otherwise, shut the fuck up and get the fuck outta my face.”
Christopher shoved him away, and Randolph stumbled back.
“Outlaw, you got a problem with this fuckhead?” one of the bikers called, a voice Johnnie didn’t recognize.
Putting his hands up in surrender, Randolph backed away. “It’s fine. Let me take a piss, then I’m gone.”
“You stayin’ a-fuckin-live cuz I want your Prez to know, Ima wipe the Imperials the fuck off the face of the earth if you motherfuckers don’t leave me the fuck alone.”
Randolph smiled. “I’ll be sure to relay that message to him.”
Watching Randolph disappear around the corner and head toward the bathrooms, Johnnie waited until Christopher slid next to Megan. He was about to reseat himself, but Kendall abruptly stood.
“I need to pee,” she announced.
Johnnie wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her lips.
“I’m going to suck your cock on the drive home,” she whispered.
He drew in a breath and she laughed as she walked away.
Kendall Donovan wished she could spend the rest of the evening in the bathroom, but it was a worse shithole than the diner, so she did her business and hurried out, almost colliding with the biker who’d confronted Outlaw.
“Whoa, there, honey,” he said, grabbing her upper arms to steady her.
He smelled like motor oil.
“Aren’t you a beauty,” he continued, gazing at her in appreciation. “You were in the same booth as Outlaw.”
She nodded. “I wasn’t with him,” she informed him. She couldn’t allow anyone to think she was with that asshole. “I’m with Johnnie. I’m his wife,” she added with pride.
Randolph nodded, interest lighting his blue-gray eyes.
“I’m an attorney, not only his old lady,” she said quickly, even though she couldn’t practice law outside of Meggie’s home healthcare business. She told as many people as possible that being a wife and mother wasn’t the only things that defined her.
He grinned and held out his hand, which she gladly accepted, if only to show him she wasn’t like Christopher. His hands were hard and callused, and she couldn’t wait until he released her. She pulled her hand away with her best imitation of a shy smile.
“I might be in need of a lawyer soon,” he said, shocking her. He pulled out a little pad and a pen from the pocket of his cut, scribbled on it, then handed the paper to her.
It had his name and number. She narrowed her eyes. “What do you expect me to do with this?”
For some reason, he came across as young. Maybe, it was his cocksure attitude. On second thought, Christopher was an old motherfucker and thought he owned the world. Yet, Randolph had no lines underneath his eyes that indicated he’d been around the block a few times. While his beard covered his cheeks and chin, she didn’t detect any wrinkles.
Christopher and Johnnie rose in her mind. Other than gray hair here and there, they had no wrinkles either.
“Call me,” he said with an adorable smile, “so I can give you the details of my case.”
He had the gangliness of a young man, who hadn’t yet filled out to his full potential.
“Maybe, convince you to take it on,” he went on, unaware of how she sized him up.
A buzz started in Kendall’s head. She wanted to practice law, full time again, so badly she could almost taste it. Too often, she imagined herself in a court room, arguing on behalf of her clients. Perhaps, that’s why she always threw it out there that she was an attorney. Maybe, that’s why she still carried business cards.
“Then again, if you’re with Johnnie, who apparently is with Outlaw, you probably can’t accept.” He winked at her. “Enemies and all that jazz.”
She stiffened. “Neither my husband or Outlaw own me. I can represent whoever the hell I please.”
“That’s good to know.” He started to walk away. “Call me.”
She just might. Christopher couldn’t tell her what to do. It would be one fucking case. Johnnie would support her this time around, wouldn’t he? He had to understand how important her independence was to her. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked, nice and sweet, deciding she’d prove she was her own woman—with an identity away from the club and outside of Johnnie—one way or the other.
He grinned at her again.
She flushed. Innuendo had filled her question. The thought of taking a case flustered her. “I-I mean anyone else who might need representation?”
“Need some business, hmmm?”
Did she ever. “You can say that.”
“Outlaw got a message for me to bring to my prez, so I’ll return the favor and send him a little memo.” He studied her. “Though, I don’t think you’ll give him the warning.”
More heat rose to her cheeks. “What makes you say that?”
“The Dwellers refuse to fuck with the Imperials. Yet, here you are, willing to fraternize with the enemy.”
“Outlaw’s an asshole and I hate his guts.”
“That’s between you and him,” Randolph said with a shrug. “All I know is things might get bloody if Outlaw doesn’t get off his high horses. Mystic didn’t have me stake him out for nothing.”
“Is that the message?”
His eyes twinkled. “Nope. This is: Tell him hi from Snake and Hopper’s son.”
Before she responded, Randolph sauntered away. She didn’t know who Snake and Hopper were. Furthermore, she wasn’t a fucking messenger service, there to pass along stupid words between stupider men.
&n
bsp; As she returned to the table and smiled at Johnnie, she pushed the message out of her head. She’d get through tonight. Tomorrow, she’d talk to Johnnie about representing Randolph. One case, away from the club, wouldn’t cause any harm.
And if he sent other cases her way? Well, she’d cross that bridge when she got to it.
For most of the night, Christopher tossed and turned, unable to shake the feeling he was missing something important about Randolph. The motherfucker was young, no more than twenty, but he was already the enforcer for the Imperials. Not that it was impossible. Christopher had been about twenty when Big Joe made him the enforcer, but then club life was all he’d known for years.
He just couldn’t figure out…who did Randolph remind him of? He’d met so many motherfuckers in his life, it could be anybody. A member of the Dwellers. A Freebird. A biker from another club. He’d figure it out eventually. All Christopher knew, at the moment, was the little motherfucker was too fucking sure of himself.
The Imperials had been in the area for nearly a year. Other than contacting Christopher from time-to-time about the chapter being absorbed by the Dwellers, they weren’t any trouble. But Christopher had the distinct feeling that was about to change.
He didn’t think it was coincidence that Randolph had found him at the diner. The Imperials were bad fucking news. If they’d gone through the trouble of following him, then they were going to step up pressure.
Christopher should probably make a pre-emptive strike, and blow them the fuck out of existence. He’d start planning their annihilation tomorrow. He didn’t know much about Randolph—not even a last name—but word on the street was that the motherfucker was out on bail for murder charges.
Even if the Imperials wasn’t a club that ran women, Christopher still would’ve seen them as stupid motherfuckers to let any of their boys get caught.
As dawn broke, he held Megan just a little tighter, a little closer. Before Johnnie and his bitch had arrived, Christopher and Megan had tossed around ideas to celebrate their five-year church anniversary. He wanted something simple. Any-fucking-thing to get out of wearing a fucking monkey suit. She wanted a huge celebration, although she did seem to like the idea of going on a vacation when he’d thrown the suggestion out there.
Just as he was explaining how he’d lick her pussy on the beach, Johnnie and Kendall got there. He really didn’t know why the fuck he agreed to those double fucking dates. Everybody already rotated hosting weekly dinners in the name of bonding. But Johnnie wanted him and Kendall to have a special bond with Christopher and Megan.
For Christopher it was simple. Ditch his bitch and they’d have a special bond.
The sound of the alarm peeled through the air, and Megan jerked, shooting up to a sitting position. Scowling, Christopher slammed his hand on the snooze button and pulled his wife back into his arms.
“I’ve got to get up,” she mumbled.
“Rest just five fuckin’ more minutes, baby,” he answered, kissing the top of her head. “It ain’t gonna hurt nothin’.”
“Umkay,” she said groggily, and let out a little snore.
Christopher grinned. The app on his phone alerted him that his alarm was being disabled and his front door was opening. Bunny and her son had arrived. Like clockwork, Digger’s old lady, who was Megan’s assistant, arrived at six in the morning. On weekdays, Megan woke up at that time and, within fifteen minutes, was working alongside Bunny to get their brood ready for their day. On weekends, Christopher insisted Megan stay in bed two extra hours. He wanted her to rest longer, but she refused.
“What do you want for breakfast?” she asked around a yawn, a few minutes later, sounding as if she was still half-asleep. Once her alarm went off, though, she never fell back into a long sleep. Her internal clock wouldn’t allow it.
He slid his hand between her legs and cupped her pussy, palming her lips and clit. She groaned and opened her thighs. At her invitation, he removed his arm from underneath her head, allowing it to fall onto the pillow, and slid down. He tongued her pebble-hard nipple, then sucked her tit into his mouth.
She caressed the hair at his nape. Chills ran along Christopher’s spine, and he grunted as she lifted her hips and ground her pussy against his hand, inviting him inside of her.
He rolled onto her, slipping into her juicy cunt. She wrapped her legs around his waist, raining small kisses on his chest. “Oh yeah, Megan…your pussy,” he managed, resting his chin on her head and pumping into her. “Squeeze my cock with your pussy walls.”
She complied, and Christopher groaned. She tugged his nipple into her mouth and bit. It wasn’t a hard bite. She applied just enough pressure to turn the pain into mind-numbing pleasure.
Resting his elbows on each side of her head, he changed his tempo to gentle in-and-out glides, encouraged by her moans and aided by her wetness.
She tipped her head back, bearing the slim column of her throat that Christopher gladly licked.
“I’m coming, Christopher,” she gasped, trembling underneath him.
“Yeah, Megan,” he said roughly. “Let your cunt come all over my cock.”
As she started to cry out, Christopher covered her mouth with his, plunging into her, deep and hard, and absorbing her scream. His body shook as he poured into her and grunted through his orgasm.
Withdrawing from her, he turned onto his back and blew out puffs of air. A moment later, Megan stumbled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, not bothering to cover up her nakedness. Leering at her, Christopher decided showering with his woman would be the perfect start to his day.
Later that afternoon, Christopher walked into the office of his club enforcer’s step-father-in-law, or whatever the fuck Mortician considered Knox Harrington. It really didn’t matter. Christopher had decided he’d give the motherfucker another chance to prove he was a private investigator by uncovering everything there was to know about Randolph.
Riley, the club’s regular PI, was on vacation with his wife, and Christopher couldn’t wait the six weeks until the man returned. Meanwhile, the last time he’d checked, Knox hadn’t had the sense to find his own swinging dick. However, every motherfucker changed. Hopefully, some of Roxy’s wits had rubbed off on her man.
If not, and Knox fucked this up, he’d just have to fuck him up again. As Roxy’s old man, he couldn’t kill him. He could break a few bones, though.
“What’s his last name, Outlaw?” Knox looked very efficient with his notebook and pen, reading glasses perched on his nose like the preppy motherfucker he was. “All you’ve given me is Randolph, club enforcer for the Imperials.”
“That should be enough, Wafer,” Knox’s partner, Cameron Baptiste, said.
Cameron had gone and fallen for Megan’s OB. Although Doc Will and Baptiste didn’t join their events very often, Christopher still considered them part of his “family”.
“At least give us a birthday,” Knox insisted.
“Listen up, motherfucker. Ain’t got a fuckin’ birthday. Ain’t got a last fuckin’ name. I told your fuckin’ ass all the fuck I know. His name Randolph. He the enforcer for the Imperials. And he look young as a motherfucker, even though he got a thick ass beard on his fuckin’ face.”
“How young does a motherfucker look?” Knox asked with amusement.
Christopher scowled at him. “Don’t fuckin’ focus on those words.” He huffed out a breath. “Tell you what. In-fuckin-vestigate the fuckin’ Imperials. Their Mother Chapter in Florida. The Tampa area. The Hortensia chapter kinda small and only been in town for the past nine months.”
Knox lifted a brow and snatched off his reading glasses, throwing them on his desk. “If you know all this, it doesn’t sound as if you need our help.”
“If you don’t want to take the case, I’ll go it alone,” Cameron piped in, frowning at Knox.
“I didn’t say that,” Knox grumped. “I look the other way with the Dwellers for Roxanne. If I discover something untoward about the Imperials, am I supposed to do th
e same?”
Folding his arms, Christopher glared at Knox. “They untoward. They violent. And word is they fuck up their women, and fuck up women and lil kids of rivals.”
“How’d you come by this information?” Cameron demanded.
Christopher smirked at him. “Unlike you two motherfuckers, I got reliable fuckin’ contacts. How-fuckin-ever, that ain’t important. If I fuckin’ check long e-fuckin-nuff, I can get my own information. But I got shit I gotta do. Me and Megan gonna be married five years in church and we gotta celebrate since I ain’t done nothin’ for our other five year anniversary.”
“Christ,” Knox muttered.
Christopher snapped his brows together. “You got a fuckin’ problem, motherfucker?”
“No,” Cameron answered quickly. “He doesn’t. You’re quite fortunate to be able to celebrate marrying your wife on two separate occasions.” He smiled. “If I could, I’d do the same with Jordan.”
“How Doc Will? Ain’t been seein’ her too much since Megan ain’t stayin’ knocked the fuck up.”
Knox frowned at him.
Cameron cleared his throat. “We recently found out she’s expecting our baby.”
“Well, congratu-fuckin-lations, motherfucker. Doc a good woman, and my ass glad she found a good motherfucker.” He focused on Knox. “When you makin’ a honest woman outta Roxanne?”
“When she gives up the purple Navigator you bought for her. She loves that thing. She says I have to get over my fucking pride, so we’re at a standstill.”
“I kinda see your point,” Christopher conceded. “Ida blown up a ride another motherfucker gave my fuckin’ woman. The solution simple. Buy her one your own-fuckin-self.”
“It’s the principal of the matter, Outlaw,” Knox insisted. “I shouldn’t have to bribe her to give up another man’s gift. She says she shouldn’t have to give up a present from you because she sees you as a son. I see you as a man who knew exactly what my girlfriend would adore.”
An Outlaw Valentine Page 2