Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “Stupid, stupid bitch,” Spoon snarled, surging forward and shoving his dick into her mouth. “Should I let you fucking live? Huh, Kendall?”

  Reminding herself to draw air through her nose, she pounded on his ass and back. Nothing succeeded in stopping Spoon from cutting off her oxygen when she hadn’t yet caught her breath from his strangulation.

  Lack of oxygen burned her lungs and the coffee and biscuit she’d had churned within her belly. If she didn’t catch her breath, everything she’d consumed would come up and choke her, too.

  “Death by dick choke, you fucking slut.” He rotated and she gagged, a sob managing to break free. “You couldn’t fucking do what the fuck I asked of you. You’re too fucking stupid.” He eased his cock from the back of her throat, allowing her a moment of air. “Just when I managed to get in good with the Dwellers’ after I delivered fresh meat to them…” He slammed his cock down her throat again and Kendall shuddered, tears slipping from her eyes. “You fucked up,” he snarled.

  She could breathe now, though, and scream. She’d come too far, made too many strides to allow herself to be smothered. He tapped his dick against her lips, the signal to open her mouth.

  Hollering at the top of her lungs, she thrashed against him, having the leverage and purchase to hit and punch and scream so someone could hear her and rescue her. Hands grabbed her flailing arms and she screamed louder, fought harder.

  “Kendall!” Johnnie called, shaking her.

  A pounding started on the door and she stilled, curling into a ball at Johnnie’s shock and fury.

  “John Boy, open this fuckin’ door,” Outlaw snarled.

  “Fuck.” Johnnie jackknifed off her and jumped to his feet with admirable agility. Kendall scrambled to her side of the bed and wrapped the comforter around her nude body.

  “Kendall had a nightmare, Christopher,” Johnnie said harshly once he’d cracked the door open and peeped out.

  “Fuck me,” Christopher snapped. “Her nightmare woke up both my son and mother-in-law. I can handle my boy, but Dinah only want Megan.”

  And Outlaw clearly didn’t like the pressure Dinah placed on Megan, Kendall thought with returning clarity. His precious wife didn’t even have time for her own mother.

  Kendall would give anything to have Marie still alive and needing her, doting on her, the way Dinah seemed to with Megan.

  “I’m sorry. Kendall didn’t mean to wake you and Megan or Dinah and Little Man.”

  “She didn’t wake us up, assfuck. We was already awake and fuckin’.”

  “Goodnight, motherfucker,” Johnnie growled, slamming the door in Outlaw’s face. A moment later, he flicked the bedside lamp on and studied her from where he stood at the edge of the bed.

  “What was that all about?”

  Kendall squirmed in the cocoon of the comforter, glancing at his now-softened cock and wincing. He’d pleasured her over and over, but he hadn’t come yet. She tightened her hold on the comforter. “I’ll suck you off if you want me to.”

  Instead of moving, he said, “Spoon, right?”

  She wouldn’t pretend ignorance of his meaning. She’d already told Johnnie about Spoon’s sexual assault. Unable to look at Johnnie, she lowered her lashes. “Yes.”

  Movement. Drawers opening and closing. More movement. A lighter flickering. The scent of burning tobacco.

  “Look at me, Kendall.”

  Humiliation ran deep inside Kendall. From Spoon’s actions and her response to him. She hadn’t fought him. She’d been caught off-guard and couldn’t rally a defense. Spoon had been swift and vicious and violent.

  She also felt humiliated over tonight. She’d been present and in the moment until Johnnie asked her to pleasure him in a way he very much enjoyed.

  “Kendall?”

  Raising her gaze, she bit her lip. Johnnie leaned against his desk, pajama bottoms riding low on his hips, his cock outlined against the thin material, the stitches still visible from the wound he’d received.

  The Johnnie Effect.

  The man reminded her of a lion, sleek, golden power and coiled strength in every inch of him.

  Not knowing what to say, she shrugged.

  “What he did to you and what I asked of you…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve got to know I wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to. I stood in a position similar to Spoon’s, I take it.”

  Kendall swallowed. “You could say that.” Not only that but she’d come so close to being caught by Spoon today and she couldn’t imagine what he would’ve done to her.

  He lifted a brow. “If we weren’t in similar positions, then—“

  “He…I’ve had lovers before. Sugar Daddies,” she blurted, raising her hands in supplication, asking for his understanding. “I-I didn’t know how else to p-pay for college. I…loans…um—“

  Johnnie scowled at her, puffed on his cigarette. “What the fuck does any of your former lovers have to do with fucking Spoon?”

  “I’m…I want you to understand…I-I’m not a whore.”

  “And?”

  She lifted her chin, her shame and hurt running as deep as her humiliation and confusion. “I’m educated. I’m an attorney. I’m better than what Spoon did to me.”

  Grabbing an ashtray, Johnnie tamped out his cigarette. He set the ashtray aside and folded his arms. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying if you were a—“ he wiggled his fingers in air-quotation marks—“’whore’, Spoon would’ve had more of a right to force his dick into your mouth?”

  Tears rushed to Kendall’s eyes and she shook her head, unable to answer. She didn’t have one.

  “How many men have you fucked in your lifetime?”

  Kendall snapped her eyes in his direction, neither seeing nor hearing derision. Still, she hesitated to answer. “How many women have you fucked?”

  His eyes twinkled and he smirked at her. “Too fucking many to count or remember, gorgeous.”

  “That’s something to be proud of?” she snapped, a wave of sick jealousy hitting her hard.

  “Tsk, tsk, Kendall,” he chastised with annoying amusement, a touch of wickedness in his teasing grin. “Green isn’t a very pretty shade on you.”

  “Green?” she gasped in outrage, incapable of ignoring the simmering heat in Johnnie’s eyes. “As in jealousy?”

  He laughed, the sound carefree and boyish. He ruffled his hair and Kendall balled her hands to keep from burying them in the blond silk. “Yes. The putrid green shade at that.”

  Having no response because he’d pegged her right, she sniffed.

  “Now, answer my question. How many men?” he pressed once his laughter died down.

  Kendall looked away from him to regain the composure Johnnie’s charm always stole. In silence, she surfed through her sexually active years, beginning with one of her high school teachers when she was sixteen in an exchange for a good grade. After that she’d gone from one older man to the next, attaching herself to men who offered her financial aid, an ego boost, or kindness. When she received all three from one man, she’d float like she hit the jackpot.

  “About ten or twelve.” Not including him and Spoon.

  “You do realize some women would consider you a whore?”

  She’d never thought one way or the other about how women might view her. They judged her for everything else, however, so she supposed it shouldn’t surprise her they’d judge her sex life.

  “Do you?”

  “No, I don’t. Even if I did, I still wouldn’t believe you deserve whatever Spoon inflicted upon you. You’re rather a harsh judge, sweetheart.”

  Kendall slanted a glance at the clock. The hands slid closer to four AM. Once she’d served Johnnie his beer, she’d had never-ending orders for drinks. In the end, she’d found it invigorating and enjoyed the interaction. Johnnie had remained in his seat at the bar, declining an invitation to play pool with Digger to keep watch over her. Although he wanted to engage in the game, it thrilled her he though
t her more important.

  The crowd began to thin out a little after two, so Johnnie had closed shop and ushered her to their room. She’d gone for a shower, happy when he’d joined her, and even happier when he’d began eating her pussy once they were out.

  The entire day, from viewing Caroline’s body to suffering Megan’s presence to her screaming her head off, led to this moment. With Johnnie accusing her of judging other women harshly simply because…because…she didn’t know why.

  Irritated, she stared at the ceiling. “First, Megan, and, now, you.”

  Johnnie tensed, any mention of Megan immediately hitting a nerve, which irked Kendall all the more. “What are you talking about?”

  “Megan!” she cried. “Accusing me of being jealous of my little sister and her.”

  A range of emotions flashed across Johnnie’s face, then he finally croaked, “Megs said that?”

  Kendall nodded, still angry every time she thought of the words. “As I viewed Caro’s body, she hit me with the brilliant observation.”

  He scratched his chin. “That doesn’t sound like—“

  “Of course not. Because Megan can do no wrong,” she spat, lashing out in jealousy of Megan and Caroline. Her transparency made her feel foolish and even more inferior. Caroline had been a child under her, and Megan was only three or four years older than her sister. No way in hell should she even feel the need to compare herself to those girls.

  But three, thirty, or three hundred, most people craved acceptance and approval from their parents. In her case, she’d had only a mother. Even before Caroline’s birth when Kendall was fourteen, Marie had kept a part of herself away from Kendall.

  Despite the age difference, Kendall had been jealous of Caroline and remained envious of Megan. She just couldn’t believe the girl’s audacity in mentioning it.

  So what if Outlaw had seen Kendall naked? And so what if she’d gyrated her body on him and given him an erection? In the end, he hadn’t slept with Kendall because of his loyalty to her.

  Everyone bragged about Outlaw and Meggie being open and aboveboard with one another. If so, Megan should’ve thanked Kendall for telling her about the incident at the bachelor party. But she’d gotten pissy about it, confronted her husband.

  Now, her grudge made Kendall’s life miserable.

  Johnnie heaved in a breath. “I’m tired, Kendall. We need to get a few hours rest before another long day starts.” He made his way to the bed, turned off the light, then climbed in. “I’ll talk to Megs.”

  She didn’t want Johnnie anywhere near his Megs.

  “I think she’s going through bad morning sickness. She’s taking care of her mother. Dealing with her house being burned down. Give her a chance, Kendall. She’s dealing with a lot right now.”

  “And I’m not?”

  He sighed. “I didn’t mean to sound as if I’m taking her side, sweetheart. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I know you’re going through a lot.”

  “I’m pregnant, too.”

  “With occasional bouts of morning sickness,” Johnnie said gently. “Megs has it every day. She has to be miserable.” He pulled Kendall into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Sleep, sweetheart.”

  His erection rose against her thigh and she waited for him to finish what they’d begun. Instead, his breathing evened out in sleep, leaving Kendall to wonder what he intended to do about his own release.

  Chapter 8

  Church overflowed today with members from across the country in attendance. Most of them were riding out right after, so Christopher had called the meeting to take votes on the course of action with the Torpedoes and inform the brothers on what had already been done.

  Christopher’s politicking surprised Johnnie. Decisions had already been made, some—such as Christopher drawing the Torps to their enforcer’s house—without anyone’s input. However, Christopher never did anything without a reason, so Johnnie decided to sit back and listen, forget all the shit running through his head about Kendall and her reaction to his request for a dick suck.

  Motherfucking Spoon needed to be choked himself with a cock.

  His anger simmered at a mild degree, so Johnnie decided to shut his thoughts the fuck down before it boiled over and turn his attention back to the matter at hand.

  After the facts were presented—K-P’s death, the fire bombings of Johnnie’s and Christopher’s houses, and Johnnie’s and Stretch’s shootings, Christopher opened the floor.

  Arrow stood, a former president in a Midwest chapter, who’d gone nomad a few years ago. He and K-P had had a strained relationship, which had led to Arrow’s decisions.

  “Word on the street is a Torp didn’t kill my brother,” he began, staring at Christopher in challenge, not flinching at the coldness creeping into Christopher’s eyes. “I heard Logan Donovan rose from the grave and caused all types of damage. Including K-P’s death.”

  “Same here,” another brother called.

  Val shifted in his seat and Digger stood, heading to the bar. Johnnie remained still, ignoring the unease sliding through him.

  “I heard it, too,” a third brother added. “Matter of fact, I went roaming last night, looking for any motherfucker wearing Torp colors. Ran across one of their bitches and she said we in bed with the Torps. While protecting Logan Donovan at a house he occupied, someone murdered one of their brothers.”

  “Who’s this Logan Donovan?” a younger member from their Manitoba chapter asked.

  Christopher lit a cigarette and then dragged on it before addressing the crowd. “Logan Donovan was me and Johnnie’s grandfather. The fuckhead who founded the club.” He pinned the young brother with a hard stare. “And your worse fuckin’ nightmare.” He smoked again, calm and steady. “This why I called the fuckin’ meetin’. Address any fuckin’ concerns you got and warn you about the war startin’ between the Dwellers and the Torpedoes.”

  Arrow glowered at him and stepped forward. Digger abandoned his place behind the bar and weaved through the crowd to stand beside Christopher. As sergeant-at-arms, he was the last line of defense between anyone and the president. He cracked his knuckles, shifted to show his weapon.

  Christopher threw his cigarette on the floor and sauntered to Arrow, stopping inches from him. “Arrow, I know you pissed over K-P.”

  Tension filled the room and Johnnie nodded to Stretch and Val for them to take position next to Digger. Johnnie signaled Bowlie, in charge of rallying the members of their chapter.

  “I am, too. I been knowin’ that motherfucker since I was fuckin’ ten, so sit the fuck down with your bull-fuckin-shit attitude, motherfucker,” he growled. “As for Logan, yeah, his dead ass turned up undead.” He glanced over his shoulder to Johnnie, ignoring the curses and growls. “Brought a whole buncha fuckin’ revelations with him, too. The fact, for instance, me and John Boy blood brothers.”

  Of all the things…Johnnie wasn’t ashamed of his relationship to Christopher. Not in the least. But, after their conversation the other day, Johnnie believed it wouldn’t be brought up again.

  Dead silence after Christopher’s announcement.

  “And, yeah, Logan killed K-P, Arrow. The motherfucker also beat the fuck outta my wife’s Ma and put my son in a fuckin’ trashcan to smother him. That motherfucker, Spoon, been eatin’ out of Logan’s ass to get the fuck in with us. In case none of you know what the fuck all this mean, it mean I’m more fuckin’ pissed than all you motherfuckers could ever fuckin be, so get your fuckin’ facts straight before you confront me.”

  Arrow didn’t appear mollified. “And the Torps?”

  “You fuckin’ slow, Arrow?” Christopher snarled. “Yeah, motherfucker. Spoon and Logan worked together. We still tryin’ to sort out every-fuckin-thing them two fuckheads did. But the Torps blew up me and John Boy’s houses in Long Beach. And the fuckin’ Torps blew up my fuckin’ wife dream house. And the fuckin’ Torps fuckin’ shot John Boy and Stretch.” He stepped back and glared at all of them. “In case y
ou hung-fuckin-over or just fuckin’ fucked in the fuckin’ head, that mean the Torps our fuckin’ enemy because Logan was our fuckin’ enemy. But this shit ain’t goin’ fuckin’ unanswered. We gettin’ each of them fuckheads, down to a fuckin’ man. We see them in their colors, we fuck them before they fuck us. They see us, same fuckin’ thing. I wanna know who’s fuckin’ in and who against it.”

  “And Logan?” Arrow persisted.

  “Dead for real, this time.”

  “He was supposed to be dead before,” an old-timer with a long, gray beard and a skull cap barked. “How we know for sure this time?”

  “Because I ain’t motherfuckin’ Boss.” Christopher balled his fists at his sides. “I ain’t gonna hide shit from you and I ain’t gonna fuckin’ lie to you.”

  “Not anymore.” Arrow glared at Christopher before transferring the angry look to Johnnie. “You obviously knew Logan wasn’t dead. Somebody sent him money every month.”

  Jesus. Wherever Arrow got the information from, they knew their shit. If he kept fucking talking, he’d blurt Johnnie had been the one hiding Logan and then what? Brothers were already getting pissed, the older ones familiar with Logan clueing in the younger ones who were not.

  “You believe every bullshit you hear?” Christopher said with rising fury.

  Fury in Christopher was never good. His rage usually led to someone’s death. The only one who should’ve been armed right now was Digger, since no weapons were allowed during church.

  But, Johnnie knew his cou—He swallowed. His cousin, yes, but his brother. Johnnie knew Christopher, his brother. His 9mm was strapped to him. Christopher rarely went anywhere without his beloved nine.

  Waving to Stretch, Christopher returned to the middle of the floor. No one said anything as Stretch disappeared down the hall, returning a few minutes later carrying a stack of papers.

  “Hand ‘em out.”

  While Stretch began handing a small stack of stapled sheets to each brother, Christopher spoke again. “K-P was our treasurer. Local and national. Stretch handin’ out his last report, along with the reports from the past year. No fuckin’ where on these motherfuckers is there any payment to Logan.”