BEASTLords of Carnage MC

by Daphne Loveling

  After Brooke resigned at the agency, she took a couple months to recover from her injuries and think about what she wanted to do next. I gave her time and space, and listened to her as she talked about wanting to help girls that might otherwise fall through the cracks. One day, I came home from the clubhouse and she was practically bouncing out of her skin with excitement. When I finally managed to calm her down, she told me she’d decided she wanted to open up a gym and fitness center for girls, specializing in martial arts and self-defense. With her FBI training, it was a perfect way to use those skills and teach girls empowerment and confidence in their physical abilities. She had this whole idea about opening a non-profit to offer scholarships to the ones who couldn’t afford to be members. She wants it to be a place where any girl can go to feel safe, and strong, and wanted.

  Ever since that day, she’s been going full-speed ahead on getting this place up and running. The past couple weeks, she’s been scouting out locations for rent that would be a good fit for what she had in mind. She’s excited as hell, and I know she’s gonna make this thing work.

  I’m so fuckin’ proud of her.

  For someone who left Tanner Springs as soon as she was legally able, Brooke really takes to bein’ back in town. Especially once we get Walter and the rest of her stuff moved in, it’s almost like she never left. Of course, with the club women, she has a ready-made group of friends. She even starts going to Sydney’s coffee shop a couple times a week, to hang out and work on her business plan.

  As for me, I plan to make damn sure nothing ever makes her want to leave again.

  And that included tracking down the last ugly remnant from her past.

  I had Tweak trace the whereabouts of one Arlo Bonner for me. Turned out, Arlo and Renee Bonner moved out of Tanner Springs to a place a couple towns over, about five years after Brooke left. Mrs. Bonner passed away from lung cancer a couple years later, leaving Mr. Bonner a widower. The Bonners never had kids of their own, and Arlo was on disability and in poor health.

  Brooke will never know what I did to Arlo Bonner. She doesn’t need to know. The only important thing is, he’s paid for what he did.

  The law might never have caught him, but justice sure as fuck did.

  I pull my bike into the garage after a long day at Twisted Pipes to hear music blaring at top decibel from inside the house. Opening the door, I see Brooke up on a ladder in the living room, painting the walls one of those weird muted blue-green colors that chicks always seem to have a precise name for. I go over to the stereo and turn down the volume, and she twists toward me in surprise.

  “Oh! I didn’t hear you come in!” she cries, setting her brush down on the top step of the ladder.

  “You weren’t gonna hear a damn thing, with the music so loud,” I tease her. “Shit, I hope Walter likes Beyonce.”

  Brooke rolls her eyes. “That’s not Beyonce. That’s Alicia Keys.”

  I snort. “Whatever.”

  Back on the ground, Brooke comes up to me with a wide smile. “Do you like it?” she asks nodding toward the wall.

  “It’s good, babe. Whatever you want. Just don’t make me put up with pink or some shit.”

  “So noted.” Her mouth quirks up.

  “You’ve got paint on your boob,” I point out.

  Brooke looks down at her black tank top. “Oh, you’re right. Well, comes with the territory.”

  “You sure you didn’t do that on purpose, to get me to look at your tits?”

  She flashes me a saucy look. “Do I need paint to do that?”

  “Hell no.” I reach for the hem of her shirt.

  “Excuse me, sir, what are you doing?” Brooke says in a coy voice.

  “You’re gonna get paint all over me,” I complain, pulling the tank up and off her. “I have no choice.”

  Brooke pretends to protest, but she raises her arms up so the shirt comes off with no effort. Then she’s standing there in front of me, naked to the waist and sexy as hell. My cock springs to attention.

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” I growl. “Fuck, I’m starving for you, B. Have been all day.”

  “How can you be starving for me when it’s only been about ten hours?” I pull her to me and she gasps as my mouth closes over one taut nipple. I don’t bother to answer, because she should know by now. It’s been this way ever since she stumbled back into my life. It’ll always be this way. I can’t get enough of her. It’s like our bodies are making up for twelve years of lost time.

  My tongue finds her pink bud, teasing it to hardness as she starts to moan. Her hands thread into my hair, gripping my scalp. “Oh, god, Travis,” she whispers. “You’re going to drive me crazy like that.”

  I know she’s already wet for me. I know her body better than she does at this point. Sliding my hand under the fabric of her cut-off shorts, I find her slick folds with my fingers. She’s soaked, just like I expected. My cock gets even harder. I was gonna take her upstairs to the bedroom, but I ain’t got time for that. Instead, I reach up with my other hand and unbutton the shorts, yanking them and her panties off her in one motion. She’s naked now, and ready for me.

  Pulling her down on the carpet, I get my shirt off and flip her legs over my shoulders. Then, spreading her thighs wide, I move down between them and feast. Brooke’s cries fill the house as I lick and suck. She’s already swollen and needy, and I’m in no mood to draw this out right now. I slide one finger inside her pussy, working her body and finding that spot inside her that drives her wild. Brooke tenses, her body ready to snap like a rubber band, and then explodes. Her orgasm rolls over her in waves as she bucks against my tongue. Jesus Christ, it’s so fucking hot.

  I pull her onto my cock as she’s still coming, feeling the contractions of her pussy all around me. I pull out and then jackhammer into her, taking her hard like I know she loves. She calls my name, over and over, and I don’t hold back. I shoot deep inside her, giving her everything I’ve got. God damn, it feels good to come inside her. I could do this every day for the rest of my life.

  And I goddamn well intend to.

  A few minutes later, we’re lying back on the carpet, catching our breath. “That was quite a homecoming, Mister Carr,” Brooke says, still breathing heavily.

  “No shit. Like I said, I’ve been thinkin’ about doin’ that most of the day.”

  “I didn’t manage to start anything for dinner,” she tells me. “I wanted to get this room painted and I kind of lost track of the time.”

  “We’ll order a pizza or something. You want to grab a shower with me first?”

  “I’ll shower later, after I’m done with this room. I should be able to get the rest painted in half an hour or so. Oh! By the way, I wanted to ask you about the third bedroom.”

  “Seriously?” I groan. “We’re gonna talk about home decorating right now?”

  “Come on, humor me,” she laughs. “We still have to figure out what we’re going to do with it. I’ve already decided I’m going to put a desk in the guest room, so that can be my office as well. But I don’t know what to do with the other one. I don’t do crafts, so that’s out. And all your hobbies are too greasy to do inside.”

  I wait for a beat, considering.

  “I got an idea,” I murmur.

  “Yeah?”

  “You remember how I asked you if you’d ever thought about havin’ kids?”

  “M-hmm.” She snuggles into my chest. “I said no. And if I remember correctly, so did you.”

  “Yeah. Well. It was true. I hadn’t ever thought about it. Then.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I think puttin’ a baby inside you would be hot as hell.” I put my hand on her flat stomach, lovin’ how her body instantly responds to me.

  “You do, do you?” she breathes. “You don’t think when I’m a big pregnant lady you’ll lose interest?”

  The idea is so fuckin’ ludicrous I burst into loud laughter. “B, you have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. I’ve carrie
d a torch for you for my entire adult life. You havin’ my baby is just gonna make you sexier to me. Hell, bring on the wrinkles and gray hair.” I lift my hand to her face and tilt her chin up so she’s looking at me. “Every single thing that ever happens to your body from here on out is just gonna be a reminder to me of all the years that you’ve been mine. When we’re eighty, seein’ all those years on your face is just gonna make you more beautiful to me.”

  Brooke’s eyes start to shine. She swallows and gives me a tremulous smile. “Why Travis Carr. Listen to you being all romantic.”

  “Damn straight,” I growl. “Now about that baby. You in?”

  She laughs, and a happy tear rolls down her cheek. “So, what you’re saying is you want to make the third bedroom a nursery?”

  “Well, yeah,” I nod, shifting toward her. “But what I’m really sayin’ is, if we’re gonna have a baby, let’s get to work.”

  I slip my hand back to her stomach, and then slide it further south. Brooke’s breath catches in her throat when I find the spot I know she likes.

  “You’re insatiable, you know that?” she pants.

  “With you, babe?” I growl as I move over her. “Always.”

  THE END

  Ghost: Lords of Carnage Book 1

  1

  Jenna

  Mistakes.

  Sometimes it seems like my entire life has been one long one.

  Sometimes you rack up so many of them, you can’t work out where one mistake ends and the next one begins.

  That’s how it feels right now, returning to Tanner Springs. The site of most of my biggest mistakes.

  Once, it was home.

  Then, it was anything but.

  And now, I’m back. And I don’t know if it can ever be anything like home again.

  “Oof,” Angel grunts as he drops the last of the boxes onto the old moth-eaten sofa. It’s a big, heavy paper ream box full of books — one of a few I’ve been lugging around from place to place for the last few years. Old college textbooks, mostly. The remnants of a dream I should have given up on by now.

  “Is that the last one, I hope?” he says. It’s pretty evident by the look on his face what he hopes my answer is.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” I nod, and resist the urge to apologize. Even though he offered to help me move in to my new apartment, I still feel guilty accepting the favor.

  I watch my brother pull up the front of his black T-shirt, revealing a snarl of tattoos on his stomach and chest. He wipes the sweat from his face with the fabric, then pulls it back down. “You want something to drink?” I ask him. “I think I can find the box of glasses in the kitchen.”

  “You got any beer? I sure could use one.” He raises his arms out in a massive stretch.

  “Sorry, no,” I say regretfully. “I haven’t had time to go shopping yet.” One more thing on my mental list of things to do, I remind myself. There’s no food in the house, either, and it’s getting close to supper time. I’ll need to find something for Noah and me to eat.

  I heave an exhausted sigh at the thought of trying to make a grocery run with a wound-up and hungry four year-old. Hell. Maybe I’ll just give in and order a pizza, I reason. I can take care of the grocery shopping tomorrow, when I’ve had a good night’s sleep.

  Speaking of the wound-up four year-old, my son Noah emerges from what will be his new bedroom. His arms are out in a T and he’s making a buzzing noise with his lips as though he’s a prop plane. He “flies” around the room, circling the boxes and crates, then crashes into Angel’s legs as he turns toward the kitchen.

  “Hey, easy, buddy,” Angel said, looking slightly annoyed. “Look, go play somewhere else, okay?” Angel shoots me a glance. “He sure is keyed up.”

  “He’s been cooped up all day,” I explain, again resisting the urge to apologize. “First in the U-Haul and now in here. He’s bored.”

  Noah flies back down the hall toward his room. I know my brother doesn’t have a lot of experience with kids, so he probably doesn’t realize how easily they get antsy. Actually, I’ve been pretty impressed at how little Noah’s been acting out today, given the circumstances. “He’s only four,” I tell Angel. “He doesn’t have great impulse control.”

  I wander the few steps into the kitchen and look around for the box labeled “glassware.” Pulling off the tape, I grab one of Noah's plastic glasses with a picture of Thomas the Tank Engine out of the box. I turn to the sink and hold it under the faucet. Water sputters violently when I twist the handle, and I start and take a quick step back. Brownish liquid begins to run out of the tap.

  “This apartment hasn’t been used in a while, the landlord said.” Angel comes up behind me and peers at the dubious-looking water. “You probably want to run that for a few minutes.”

  As I wait for the water to turn clear, I look around me at the dingy tile floor and dusty, grease-tacky counter tops. This entire place needs a good scrubbing from top to bottom. Still, I have no business complaining. Noah and I are lucky to have a roof over our heads at all, given everything that’s happened in the last few months. It isn’t paradise, but it’s home for now. More importantly, it’s all I can afford.

  “Thanks for helping me, Angel,” I murmur. “Moving all these boxes up a flight of stairs wouldn’t have been easy with just me and Noah.” I fill up the glass with now clearish water and hand it to him.

  Angel takes the glass and frowns at it. “No worries,” he shrugs, then takes a long drink of water, his Adam’s apple moving as he gulps it down. When he’s finished, he sets the glass on the counter and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You sure you don’t want to tell me what happened back in the city, to make you come back to Tanner Springs?” he asks, eyeing me curiously.

  I take in a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah,” I say. “I’m sure.”

  I don’t want to talk about it. Just more mistakes, more bad choices. This one involved taking a job at a place I shouldn’t have, even though my warning bells were going off the second I noticed the boss’s eyes roving over me during the interview. When he tried putting his paws all over me one night after hours, I fought back, and he fired my ass on the spot. Not only that, he stiffed me out of my final paycheck, knowing it would take a lawyer I couldn’t afford to get it back from him. A couple months later, I was late on my rent one too many times, and got evicted. What kind of heartless asshole evicts a single mother with a four year-old child?

  My shoulders sag with fatigue just thinking about it all. I’m so tired of looking back at the past and regretting things. I want a fresh start, eyes pointed toward the future. And I’m determined to have that fresh start, too. Even if it has to happen here, in a place that’s full of all sorts of memories both bad and good.

  Angel sighs. “Okay. No skin off my nose.” He glances toward an ancient-looking, yellowed phone sitting on a ledge between the kitchen and the living room. “By the way, Jenna, Dad wants you to call him when you get settled in. He left his phone number over there in case you needed it.”

  Somehow, I hadn’t noticed the phone at all when we’d been moving boxes and furniture in. “Oh, my gosh, is that a land line?” I say in disbelief. “I haven’t seen one of these things in a house in years.”

  “Yeah,” Angel laughs. “I tried it. It even works.” He picks up the receiver and holds it out to me so I can hear the drone of the dial tone. I look closer. Wow. It’s even a rotary phone, not a push-button one.

  I shake my head and laugh. “That’s so weird. I wonder if the last person to live here just forgot to shut it off?” I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth, though. My cell phone service is pretty basic, so being able to make some local calls from home without wasting my minutes will be kind of nice.

  I pick up the stickie note that’s been stuck next to the phone. On it, in my dad’s unmistakeable handwriting, are the words: “Jenna. Call me as soon as you’re able. Dad.” The phone number for his office is scrawled underneath. I make a mental note to call my dad an
d thank him for setting me up with a place to live. As much as I hate to be in anybody’s debt, it’s only fair that I express my gratitude.

  Though, by rights, I’m not really sure whether I owe the cheap apartment find to him, or to the Lords of Carnage.

  And I don’t know which debt would be worse.

  2

  Jenna

  The Lords of Carnage is the local motorcycle club in Tanner Springs. It basically runs this town, and what it doesn’t directly run, it controls by influence — through protection deals it has with local businesses, or connections under the table with the local city government.

  My father is the mayor of Tanner Springs. Has been for years, in fact. Since I was a little girl. He’s also cozy as hell with the Lords of Carnage. The motorcycle club helped him get elected to the position all those years ago. I’m not sure what kind of a deal my father struck with the MC back then, but he’s reciprocated their support by doing them all manner of favors ever since. The full nature and scope of these favors, I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. But I do know he and the MC are tight. Tighter than an outlaw biker club probably should be with the mayor of their town. But then, that’s none of my business.

  The relationship between my dad and the club has only gotten tighter in recent years, too. Ever since my brother Gabriel decided to prospect for the Lords when he turned eighteen. Since getting patched in to the club, he’s been known around town by his road name: Angel. In the six years that he’s been in the club, my brother has quickly risen up through their ranks, and now, he’s their vice-president.

  All of this means that, between my dad and my brother, there is almost no way for me to stay away from the Lords of Carnage when I’m in Tanner Springs. This tiny two-bedroom apartment where Noah and I will be staying for the foreseeable future is in the top floor of a house right off Main Street. The floor below houses the tattoo parlor that the Lords of Carnage frequents. So, I don’t really know whether the club or my dad got this place for me. But I’m guessing that the landlord, who lives in the house next door and whose name is Charlie, was only too happy to do a solid for the club and the mayor at the same time.