Protection (Death Knights MC Series Book 1)

by Michelle Betham

  I push my fingers inside myself and throw back my head as I press hard against my clit, moaning quietly as I touch myself deep, and I can still feel him, inside me. And I like that traces of him are still there. I like that he’s a part of me. And that’s all I need, that trigger, that thought – I’m coming, wave after wave of intense pleasure floods my core, it’s beautiful. But I’m done now. I think we both are.

  “Come here,” he drawls.

  I stand up and go over to him, and he circles my waist and pulls me close, kissing my slightly open mouth. He tastes of cigarettes and whiskey, but that’s him. It’s him.

  “I love you, Piper. You got that?”

  “I got it.” I cock my head slightly, taking a minute to just look at him. Sometimes I like just looking at him, wondering if he’s always been this man. I don’t ask too many questions, I gathered that was never my place almost immediately. But he hasn’t asked me all that many, either, so I’m guessing he’s as much of a fan of a need to know basis as I am. “You know I love you, too. Right?”

  His face breaks into a slow grin and I can’t help smiling. “Yeah. I know you do.” He reaches round and smacks my ass, kissing me hard. “Go get dressed, baby. We gotta go show our faces outside.”

  I pull away from him and head into the bathroom to clean up.

  Vanni Colletti found me at a time when I needed him most.

  He found me, and he made me. And tomorrow I marry one of the most powerful outlaw bikers in the country. I got lucky. Yeah. I got lucky…

  Vanni

  She’s got an ass to end all asses. She’s got the kind of body I could live inside all fucking day, if I didn’t have shit to sort out. Shit that meant I had to bring this wedding forward, to avoid having to call all my American brothers here a second time. I’m killing two birds with one stone, I marry my girl, I sort out shit, all on the same weekend. Makes perfect sense to me.

  I wait until she’s in the bathroom before I look outside, at everyone enjoying themselves, at my expense, but it’s worth it. I want Piper to have the day she deserves; the best I can give her because she is my fucking world. That woman is the single most important thing to me, after the club. I found her, alone and lost, and she came to me willingly. She’s the other half of me, and I know those doubters who see her as an intruder, almost, they don’t think she had any right going straight to the top. But all those mamas who’d throw themselves at me, leave their dignity at the door the second they dropped their panties, do anything I wanted them to in the hope that they’d be the ones to stand by my side and take that all important role of my biker queen – they were only ever whores to kill time with, until I found my real queen. And now I’m about to make her my property, even though she’s been that since the day I brought her back here, to this house. My home. The home my great-granddaddy built with his own hands. It’s a special place, and I never was gonna bring just anyone back to it. The woman who got to live here, with me, she had to be something special.

  “You OK?”

  I turn around and smile at my shit-hot bride-to-be. Piper Sloane. At twenty-six she’s fifteen years younger than me but she has an older head on those beautiful shoulders. She’s come from some place dark and cold, I know she has. Maybe that’s why she fits in here like she’s been around forever. “I’m just fine, baby girl.” She’s dressed in skin-tight jeans and a tiny Iron Maiden T-shirt, her dark-blonde hair piled high on top of her head, and I want her all over again. But we got a wedding party to go to; shit to sort out.

  I jerk my head back toward myself and she steps into my arms, as she always does, when I need her to. And when she needs me I’m there, it’s a pact we made to each other. But she’s the only person who’ll ever get me to be that submissive, no other fucker will ever see that side of me. That’d be freakin’ suicide!

  “You know everyone thinks you’re a crazy-assed son-of-a-bitch, right?” She smiles, and I laugh as she presses her firm young tits against my chest.

  “D’you think I’m a crazy-assed son-of-a-bitch?”

  “I know you are.” She rests her mouth against mine as she speaks, her voice low and sexy, man, she’s gonna be the freakin’ death of me! “But I like it that way. Nice guys don’t give twisted sex. And I like twisted sex.”

  Fuck’s sake! We’re never gonna get downstairs, but who gives a shit? I lift her up and she wraps her endless legs around me as I carry her over to the bed, tossing her down like the whore she’s about to become; ripping her jeans off of her, slamming my aching cock back into her as I take her roughly, fuck her hard, so hard she cries out in pain, but I know she’s only feeling pleasure. She’s as twisted as I am, that’s why we work. It’s why I’m marrying her. I need her shit, and I know she needs mine. I tried that other path, it didn’t work out so great. I need this. I need her. And tomorrow she becomes mine. I’ll own her. Any other fucker so much as breathes in her direction once that ring’s on her finger and I’ll end their days in a fucking heartbeat. I’ll end them. Yeah, I’m a crazy-assed son-of-a-bitch. And everyone better believe it.

  Two

  Logan

  Man, we gotta get ourselves some new club girls. I’m not seeing anything I like right now, and too many of them are draped over their men; they’re off limits. And the ones who aren’t seem to have that glazed look in their eyes that weddings bring out in women, even those who don’t look like walking up any kinda aisle is their thing. It’s always their thing, these women, they want to be owned. But I’m not looking for that, that’s not happening.

  I’m thinking of escaping this crap for a couple of hours now, maybe head into Vegas, find some action off the Strip. No-one’s gonna know I’ve gone, this place, it’s like some fucked up circus, they won’t miss me.

  “Where you going?”

  I look up as Bullet approaches my bike, his hands in his pockets, his long, filthy-blonde hair pulled back off his face. Brady ‘Bullet’ Hawkins. President of the Burbank chapter of the Death Knights. A man who’s been like a true brother to me since the day he took me in, and allowed me to find my feet in a world I’d been struggling to make sense of for a long time. I’m his V.P. now, which proves how much he trusts me ‘cause there are brothers in that chapter who’ve been there a hell of a lot longer than me, men who probably deserved that role more than I did, at the time. But I guess Bullet, he thought I needed that focus. And he was right, I did. And I haven’t let him down yet. I don’t intend to.

  “Gonna hit a few bars off the Strip. This place has shit to offer me, and I need something…”

  “Vanni wants us.”

  “Now? I thought we weren’t meeting ‘til tomorrow morning?”

  “He’s changed his mind.”

  “Why?”

  “Jesus, Logan, you’re questioning Vanni? That fucker changes his mind, we jump. Get off the bike and go grab a beer or something. Meeting’s in ten. Vanni’s office, over there.”

  He jerks his head in the direction of an outbuilding to the side of the main house, which still looks bigger than my home back in Burbank, but Vanni Colletti has money. A lot of freakin’ money. Legitimate, and not so, but that’s the world we live in. And I’m guessing this meeting’s got something to do with the fact Vanni’s got wind of someone trying to threaten our piece of that world.

  “Get off the bike, Logan. We ain’t hitting Vegas this visit.”

  “Christ’s sake…” I climb off my Harley, throwing my helmet down on the seat. “I’ve really gotta endure this crap for two fucking days?”

  “Quit whining and deal with it. Ten minutes. And don’t be fucking late.”

  I watch him head back over to the house, man, I’m seriously pissed now. A couple of hours, that’s all I’d wanted. Hit a casino or two, sink some cheap whiskey in a dive bar I know just off the Strip; get laid by a couple of just-as-cheap whores, yeah, that’s all I’d wanted.

  I lean against my bike and throw back my head, a heavy sigh of frustration escaping.

  “That doesn’t
sound like a man who’s having a good time.”

  I drop my head forward and meet the eyes of a stunning young woman with dark-blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, her cock-teasing curves poured into a pair of skin-tight jeans, her undoubtedly super-hot tits perfectly rounded beneath a T-shirt that has no business clinging to a body as beautiful as that in the way that it’s doing. She’s one I haven’t seen around before, but I’m also getting something from her that’s telling me to stay back. I’ll think about it, but I’m making no promises. “Yeah, well, weddings aren’t really my thing.”

  She smiles slightly, and she is so damn pretty, but I’m still getting something from her. Something different. Something – I dunno. An almost complicated vibe, and I don’t do different, or complicated, or any shit like that. I do simple. I like to know where I stand. I like to call the shots. “They never used to be mine, either.”

  “And now?”

  Her smile widens a little, and then she starts to back away. “Now I like them. You have a good weekend, OK? Or, as good as you can make it, huh?”

  I watch as she turns and heads back into the crowd, and I frown. What the hell was that? And who was she?

  “Hey! Logan! Come on, brother!”

  Bullet’s voice reminds me I’m supposed to be somewhere else and I haul myself away from my bike and stride briskly toward the outbuilding, where a handful of chapter presidents and their V.P.s are now heading inside. This is what we’re here to do. This is what Vanni’s really called us all here for. His wedding’s just a useful distraction.

  “We all here?”

  Vanni’s voice booms out across the room, and I look over at the man himself because his presence, it’s quite startling, considering he isn’t the tallest of men, or the most well-built. That’s why, to look at him, you wouldn’t think he was capable of half the shit he’s done. It’s only when you get close enough to look right into his eyes, to see the evil in there, the mistrust, that’s when you know, that he’s capable of anything. And I still can’t help wondering about the woman who’s this close to becoming his ultimate property. Is she as stone-cold as he is?

  “We got issues, brothers, OK? We got ourselves some real serious issues. I got wind of people looking to do me outta what’s mine, and that’s not making me happy. And this is my wedding weekend, I want to be happy. And you boys, you’re gonna make me happy.”

  I’m wondering about that woman again, Vanni Colletti’s bride-to-be. She must be one hell of a girl, that’s all I can say. I’m imagining someone like Della, Bullet’s old lady. Someone from the rougher side of the tracks; someone with a smart mouth and an ability to look after herself, ‘cause I’m not sure Vanni does princesses.

  “You all familiar with the Devil Hounds? Got chapters in L.A., Miami, Arizona, Ohio and New Jersey. All places we operate in, all places we own a lot of business; do a lot of business. That’s why I called you all in here. That MC, it’s a fairly new club, but they’re ambitious. They just haven’t learned the right kinda etiquette yet, is all. And that’s giving me one hell of a headache I don’t need, so I think a little lesson in manners is in order. They need to know they can’t fuck with me and my club, they don’t fuck with me and my club. ‘Cause it’s us they’re coming for. Our territory. Our business. And I’m not having that. So, we’re gonna deal with it. My way.”

  Jesus. The crazy fucker’s gonna go all-out psycho, ‘cause that’s the only way he knows.

  “Our biggest problem? Burbank.”

  Ah, shit! Here we go. Been a while since we had any real big kick-off going down, but I’m sensing one’s about to happen.

  “So, Bullet, we’re gonna deal with that, right?”

  “You got it, Vanni.”

  “You know what to do.”

  He looks around the room, fixing each and every president of the chapters involved in this upcoming turf war with a look that tells them all that Vanni Colletti isn’t taking any shit. We deal with this, or we all fucking pay.

  “Burbank’s the main problem. They’re gunning for our territory big time in California, but the rest of you – we all gotta keep an eye on those fuckers. We gotta be out there, watching them, making sure they get the message. I gotta consignment of weapons arriving from Eastern Europe on Tuesday, I want a couple of members from all the chapters involved to hang around in Vegas ‘til that arrives, take them back to their respective clubs. And use them.” He turns his attention back to me and Bullet. “I got word they been selling crystal and coke on our patch. And that’s affecting us, it’s taking business away, from us. Losing me money. Sort it out.”

  We both nod, we get the message. We know what we gotta do. And now I’m hoping that’s it. That we can go back outside and start getting this weekend over with.

  “Right. Get out, go enjoy yourselves. I’m paying for this shit, so be grateful.”

  Bullet looks at me as everyone starts to stream outside. “You want to stay here?”

  “What? ‘Til the shipment arrives?”

  “You said you wanted to hit Vegas. You get to do that, for a day or two, if you hang around here. I’ll leave Dragon with you, he needs to see some real club shit happening. Be good for him to get involved now he’s fully patched in.”

  “Fine. I got nothing else going on.”

  “Good. Now change the face and start enjoying yourself, ‘cause the second we get back home all kindsa crap could be going down.”

  “Did you know? About the Devil Hounds?”

  “I knew of ‘em. Knew they hadn’t been around all that long. Just didn’t figure they’d be stupid enough to try this kinda shit so early on. Guess they’re gonna pay for that now, huh?”

  Bullet slaps me on the shoulder, and then heads outside. I stay where I am for a second or two before I follow him. And it’s full-on out here now. The music’s louder, the noise level’s risen ten-fold, and the smell of drugs and charred meat is all-consuming. But Bullet’s right. I might as well start making the most of it, there isn’t another option on the table right now.

  “Bullet tells me we’re hanging around in Vegas ‘til Tuesday.”

  I turn to see Dragon approach, all cocky young swagger and misplaced arrogance. He’ll learn. The fact he’s Vanni’s cousin means shit, in fact, it probably means he has to work that little bit harder to prove himself worthy of his place in this club. He’s got a lot to live up to. “Yeah. We’ll take the crash truck back with us.”

  “Transporting weapons, huh?”

  I narrow my eyes slightly as I light up another joint. It helps take the edge off this shit. “Transporting weapons for your batshit crazy cousin, Dragon. Weapons he expects us to use, to keep our territory back home safe. A new MC – the Devil Hounds – they’re threatening our turf. The second our brothers set foot back in Burbank we’re at war, you understand? Been nothing this big happen since Vanni sent you to us, so you’re gonna need to step up now, kiddo.”

  “I can do it.”

  See? Misplaced arrogance.

  “Yeah. Sure you can.” I drag deep on my joint and hold it out to him. “Here. Kick back while you can.”

  “I gotta do some ink in a little while.”

  “One drag isn’t gonna hurt, Jesus, you’ve inked me high on freakin’ coke.”

  He takes a long drag on the joint before handing it back to me, and we both sit down on a low wall at the edge of Vanni’s ridiculously huge back yard.

  “We’ll stay in Vegas. I know a place just outside of Henderson, there’s a brother there who always takes me in when I’m here and need somewhere to stay. He runs an underground casino and bar a mile or so from the main Strip. You’ll like it.”

  “Lottsa naked girls, huh?”

  I look at him through narrowed eyes. “You think that’s all being one of us involves, Dragon? You being able to get your rocks off with anything that breathes just ‘cause you’re a fully patched in brother now?”

  “It’s a perk.”

  “Jesus,” I sigh, shaki
ng my head and looking out around me. It’s dark now, and this place isn’t showing any signs of slowing down. Sleep’s a long way off for anyone yet. And then I see her, over by Dragon’s makeshift tattoo studio, talking to a couple of old ladies from our chapter. She’s got a can of beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and I’ve never seen a woman look so fucking hot.

  “You know which chapter she belongs to?”

  “Who?” Dragon asks, following my gaze.

  “Her. Over there, talking to Jake’s old lady.”

  Dragon squints slightly, and then his expression suddenly changes. “Shit, Logan. You don’t know who she is?”

  “Should I?”

  “By now you should, yeah.” He looks at me. “You haven’t been, y’know…?”

  I raise my eyebrows in question. “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “She’s Vanni’s old lady. That’s Piper.”

  “Piper?” I glance back over, and I feel my stomach sink as Vanni joins her, sliding a proprietorial arm around her waist, his hand resting on her hip and as she turns her head to kiss him he raises a hand to her neck, pushing her head back slightly, kissing her harder, those tits I assumed were so perfect pressing against that mad motherfucker’s chest. “Punching above his weight, isn’t he?”

  “You haven’t done anything…?”

  “She spoke to me, Dragon. We said about three words to each other.”

  “But you didn’t, y’know, touch her, right?”

  “Can’t say I didn’t want to. I mean, come on, look at her! How’d that crazy shithead bag something like that?”

  “He found her.”

  I laugh, I mean, what? “He found her?”

  “She was in his bar, the one the club owns in Vegas. She was on her own, apart from all the horny brothers swarming round her like flies on shit, but Vanni saw them off…”