Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “Zoann, I’m sorry. This entire conversation came out wrong. I…” He thrust a hand through his hair. “I admit I know your relationship to Outlaw. I never wanted to tell you. I was afraid this very thing would happen.”

  “I have to return to duty.”

  “You deserve better,” he said quickly, stopping her again. “Give me a chance. I swear my wanting to be with you has nothing to do with the club.”

  “I need to talk to Christopher first,” she said tightly. After all, it wasn’t only Christopher anymore. He had Meggie and CJ to think about. If anything happened to him, they’d be affected. And anything included jail time. “I can’t see you until then.”

  “I like you. I really do. You’re smart and gorgeous and sassy. Spending time with you has nothing to do with your brother. Why make it more complicated than necessary by mentioning anything to him?”

  Zoann was still unconvinced.

  He sighed. “Come have coffee with me.”

  “I’m pregnant. I can’t have caffeine.”

  “Okay. We can get a late night bite to eat once you clock out.”

  “I need to get my son.”

  “Just one hour, Zoann. Give me an hour to convince you of all the reasons you should give me a chance without telling your brother. Please?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  He hung his head. “I didn’t want to have to do this, dear,” he said quietly. “But I’m trusting you with this. If this is what it takes to get you to believe my sincerity, then so be it.” He leaned closer to her and grabbed her arm when she took a step back. “I’m on your brother’s payroll.”

  “What?” she gasped, her shock just a flashpoint, her ingrained mistrust ratcheting up. Adam didn’t know her well enough to just blurt such dire information out. Even to gain her trust. Which meant he was lying or he was after something else. If he were after something else and he got it, she was expendable.

  Fuck.

  “I have to think about everything you’ve said,” she told him in a steady voice. She wouldn’t tip her hand. This entire situation was off.

  A cold smile touched his face, destroying his GQ looks and turning him into an ugly stranger. “Of course, my dear.”

  Silence rose between them and a bad feeling kicked into Zoann’s gut. She backed away. “Um, I-I have to go, Adam.”

  “I’ll see you later.”

  Not if she had anything to say about it. “Sure.” Beating a hasty retreat, she headed to the employee entrance for the ER, wondering, for the first time, if she needed to call the MC and get a Probate to escort her home.

  A chill settled over the August night, clouds blanketing the sky and covering the slivered moon. She hoped she made it back to the club before the rain began. More than that, she prayed the guys were there—Christopher, Johnnie, Matthew, and Mortician. Maybe, she was putting more into her creepy feeling about Adam than necessary, but her reprobates needed to know about his strange behavior.

  Key fob in hand, she rushed to her car and pressed the unlock button, her heart pounding with unease.

  Zoann, you’re being ridiculous. This is a lighted area.

  Stadium lights with pretty shrubbery surrounding the bases, decorated the parking lot. The huge drop in temperature surprised her. She tightened her lightweight jacket, suddenly craving pimento olives, which, normally, she hated.

  Reaching the Accord, she leaned against it and drew in a deep breath, setting her purse on the hood. Way to start her new lease on life, she thought with an irritated scowl. Yearning for disgusting olives, afraid and gasping for breath.

  Oh my God! Fucking really?

  Cursing a blue streak, she unzipped her bag and pulled out her dreaded inhaler. She hated that shit. Always had. Always would. Two pumps of Albuterol into her mouth that she sucked into her lungs and waited for the twinges of nausea and dizziness.

  “Zoann!”

  She scowled at the sound of Adam’s call, the yuck factor from the medicine removing her anxiety over him. She didn’t want to deal with him. He was so fucking underhanded. Zoann bet her life on it. He was using her to get to her brother. At least, with Matthew, she knew what she was getting.

  “Zoann!” he yelled again, his voice closer now.

  “What?” she snapped, spinning around.

  The bullet hit her in her upper shoulder, the force of it throwing her against her car, her scream coinciding with the thumping of her body and her keys pinging to the black topped parking lot. She fell to the ground, burning agony streaking through her. Groaning, she put her fingers on the hole in her, blood flowing in a steady stream.

  Before she formed any other thought, the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of her head and she shook in pain and terror.

  “Bang.” Click. “Bang.” Click. “You’re dead.”

  Zoann cried out, expecting to die instead of the click of an empty chamber.

  “Russian Roulette,” Adam said with evil laughter. “Like that fucking game?” He dragged her to her feet and Zoann swayed against him. “Your brother killed my brother. Only right I get one of his sisters. Sorry you had to be the one. I really like you. I don’t have any other choice. My contact I had has just disappeared.” He thrust his face close to hers, his jaw clenching. All in black, his hair slicked back on his head, a pair of eyeglasses on, he was almost unrecognizable. “Know anything about Dan’s disappearance?”

  She shook her head, thinking of the security cameras. Where was the security detail that checked the parking lot every thirty minutes? Why weren’t they coming for her?

  “I’ve wondered if my brother suffered before he died. Know how that feels?”

  “Y-yes,” she croaked. She’d wondered the same thing about her mother, although she’d been told one shot to the head had killed Patricia.

  “You have to die and Christopher Caldwell has to be held accountable. I’m sorry, my dear. I’m so, so sorry at the suffering you’ll endure. But then you’ll have peace. Blessed peace, Zoann. Don’t worry. I have a .22. Less blood. Smaller holes.” He hugged her, threading his fingers through her ponytail and loosening it. She lulled against him, weak from the blood loss. He kissed her forehead, jammed his gun into her side, and pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Twenty

  2:16.

  Where the fuck was Zoann? Not at the clubhouse, that’s for fucking sure and not still on duty at work. Her double shift ended at eleven. After her reports and shit, she’d probably clocked out close to midnight and then went on her fucking date.

  Tomorrow, at noon, he’d get on the road to head up the gun-moving operation. Val wondered if he’d see Zoann before he rode out. Would he be able to detect another man’s scent on her? The idea left a rancid taste in his mouth.

  April walked up to his table and smiled at him, setting another bottle of tequila down. His head was already getting fucking bad from the one he’d had earlier, which he followed up with a shitload of beers and a joint. A couple pills, too.

  In silence, April opened the bottle and lit up a bud, handing it to him. He leered at the thin top she wore, her nipples visible through the gray see-through material.

  The more he smoked, the more the silence wore on him. “Whose dick you sucked tonight, babe?”

  She swigged from the bottle and smiled. “Jealous?”

  He took another hit and released the smoke. No. “Maybe.”

  She smirked at him.

  He handed her the joint back, his surroundings starting to spin. April laced her shit. Fucking fine with Val. Maybe, he wanted to check the fuck out without being obvious about it. He wasn’t sure at this point. He grabbed the bud from April, thinking of Puff on her second fucking date. Fuck. If she went on a third, he’d have to snoop and find out who it was. The fuckhead would meet with a very unfortunate accident, too.

  He staggered to his feet but plopped right back in his chair.

  “Need a dick suck?”

  Didn’t he always? Fucking pig pervert. “Fuck,” he growled, frowning at
his four fucking hands and his inability to get any of them to his zipper.

  April’s eight dilated pupils brightened and she slipped to her knees, snakes ringing her head and hissing at him. Val’s bark of laughter caught in his throat at the feel of April’s mouth wrapping around his dick. Pushing his hips up, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

  Pure fucking bliss. She licked the vein along the underside, then swirled her tongue around his dick head. Hoping those Medusa-like snakes weren’t poisoned, Val buried his hands in April’s hair, finding it surprisingly soft, not at all reptilianesque. She sucked him into the back of her throat and he moaned, his balls tingling and his body shaking, drawing cum from him in hard waves.

  He growled, squeezing her head and trembling, jerking away from her when she tried to lick the cum from his sensitive cock tip. She reared back on her haunches, the action shoving her skirt up and baring her wet cunt.

  Fuck, yeah. It was so fucking juicy. Grabbing her shoulders, he lurched to his feet and snatched his wallet from his pocket. Once he’d gotten the condom and rolled it on his dick, he bent her face forward over the table and shoved into her, gratified at her squeal.

  “Your dick feels so fucking good, Val,” she breathed, pushing against him.

  Her voice clouded his pleasure and he slammed into her harder, angry that she’d spoken and ruined this much-needed fuck for him, angry she wasn’t Zoann, and angry Zoann was on a fucking date.

  His fingers dug into April’s sides and he pounded into her over and over again, no longer enjoying it—if he had from the beginning.

  He drew in a sharp breath, dug his fingers a little more into April’s skin. If he didn’t calm his thrusts down, he might fucking injure her and leave bruises on her.

  She moaned. “Fuck, Val. Oh my God, I love a rough fuck.”

  His cum bubbled up, again, so he closed his eyes as it burst from him and into the condom, holding her hips to stop her bucking against him. A moment after he finished, he pulled out of her and dropped back into the chair, tucking his dick away and shoving the used condom in his pocket.

  Glass lay in the puddles on the floor. They’d knocked over the bottle and broken it. How hadn’t he heard that?

  He nodded to the mess. “Go find something to clean this shit up.”

  “Okay,” she murmured, voice soft and mouth swollen. She smiled and started off but Val needed to make something clear to her.

  “Babe?” His fucking headache had returned and he grabbed handfuls of his hair. “About Zoann.”

  “You still hung up on her, huh?”

  He dug in his cut for a cigarette, the stench of April’s pussy on his fingers turning his stomach. “Yes,” he confirmed once he’d lit up and took a few puffs. The time he’d spent with Zoann in his room after the fight with Kendall meant more to him than this. Fucking April or whoever and not caring if Zoann knew. He’d made his decision to keep her and fuck other women, so he wouldn’t upset her. He just didn’t want to advertise his pussy parties and hoped, finally, he’d reached a decision she’d agree with. “If she’s finding out we fucked tonight, it’ll be from me. Not you. Got me?”

  She shrugged. “She knows we fuck all the time, but okay.”

  “Are you fucking ignorant? Zoann doesn’t know how many years I’ve known you. Just like Meggie didn’t realize you’d fucked Outlaw.”

  “Zoann knows,” April insisted. “She saw you eating my pussy when you’d moved to Snake’s place.”

  “You just thought to tell me this bullshit now?” Val gritted through his teeth. God, he hadn’t even known she’d visited. What else had he missed when he’d stormed away from her house and holed up with Snake and Rack?

  April shrugged. “She opened the fucking door and I raised my head from sucking your dick and she stood in the door. Your tongue in my pussy felt too fucking good and I was almost coming anyway.”

  “Now I understand why Zoann hates your fucking ass more than the other bitches I fuck.”

  “Whatever.”

  He stared at April as she walked away, his heart beginning to beat hard and fast. He had no way to express all the thoughts and regrets surging through him.

  A part of him hoped Zoann was enjoying her date. She deserved a man who hadn’t fucked over her time and again. He’d gotten her pregnant again and—

  Fuck.

  He had to make this up to her. Maybe, he’d just let her go, stop torturing him and her.

  Mop in hand, April scampered back, still flushed from the fuck he’d given her, her nipples hard little points. Sighing, he yanked out his wallet again and handed her five hundred dollar bills.

  She smiled at him and stuffed the bills in her pocket then began picking up the large pieces of glass and throwing them away before mopping up the alcohol. Once she finished, she came back to him.

  “See ya round, Val.”

  Nodding, he gave her a half-smile. “Yeah, babe.”

  3:32.

  Still no Puff.

  Karma, he supposed. He’d fucked a bitch, so she was probably opening her pussy to the dickhead she’d gone on the date with. He’d showered, washed April’s pussy and mouth from his body, if not his conscience. But he’d learned long ago, a conscience did nothing except weigh the mind down with shit best forgotten. Thinking led to worrying and worrying led to guilt.

  Good try, asshole.

  He was as guilty as a motherfucker and he needed to confess to her or shove that shit aside and forget the fuck out of it.

  Confessing meant ruining everything once and for all. More than he already had when she’d come to him about the new baby and he’d fucked up. Again. That seemed to be the pattern. She thawed. He fucked up. She iced her feelings, aaannnddd repeat.

  Ad fucking nauseum.

  His phone dinged and he grabbed it, touching the screen and watching Outlaw and Meggie creep to the baby bed and check on Ryan. Meggie did that often and Val appreciated her diligence.

  Meggie leaned over Ryan and stroked his chubby cheeks. Val told himself to leave them to their privacy but Outlaw spoke to her, so he turned the volume up. He had to know if they were really so into each other behind closed doors or were they just two jealous motherfuckers.

  “Megan, baby,” he crooned to her. “You cryin’ again, ain’t you?”

  “No,” she denied and cleared her throat, tears thickening her sweet voice. “Something’s in my eye.”

  “Face me.”

  “Christopher—”

  “Now, baby.”

  Her shoulders heaving, she turned to him, her golden hair streaming down her back and over her shoulders. She wore a white silk robe and her big, blue eyes were overflowing with tears.

  “Fuck me.” Pulling her into his arms, Outlaw kissed her and closed his eyes before nosing her hair. “You want ten fuckin’ children, we can adopt. Just stop bein’ so fuckin’ sad cuz I can’t fix this shit for you.”

  “You can’t fix everything for me,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his bare waist, her hand disappearing down the front of his pajama bottoms.

  Outlaw bit the side of her neck and opened her robe, revealing a short nightie that didn’t conceal much. He bent and sucked her nipple, still covered with her nightclothes.

  She groaned and ran her fingers through his hair, her wedding set sparkling. “Not here.”

  Outlaw raised his head and frowned. “Why the motherfuck not?”

  “Zoann. Her room.”

  He pulled up her little gown, revealing the golden curls Val swore he’d forgotten. If he hadn’t he would’ve been walking around this place like John Boy behind Meggie.

  “CJ might wake up.”

  “I’ll just stick the fuckin’ tip in, baby,” Outlaw swore, licking her ear. “Just to hold me the fuck over till I get the fuck down the hall and plunge my cock deep in your wet pussy.”

  “You’re sooo bad, Christopher,” she breathed, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping one leg around his waist.

  Grabbing
her ass, he lifted her into his arms and she wrapped both her legs around his waist, sucking on his tongue. Freeing his dick, Outlaw guided it to her and thrust his hips forward.

  Val couldn’t see, but Outlaw was officially fucking her.

  “You have the best, tightest pussy fuckin’ ever.”

  She bounced on him and threw her head back.

  So, Val was a horrible asshole for taking his own dick in his hand and pumping to her movements. Tell him something he didn’t fucking know.

  “Feel my dick in you?” Outlaw growled. “Your pussy’s mine.”

  “Yeah.” She licked his lip. “All yours.”

  “What is?” he demanded, his lips curled in a sneer. The way he thrust his hips, Val knew he’d gone hard and deep inside Meggie.

  “My pussy is all yours.”

  Val jerked his dick faster.

  “I want to suck you off, Christopher.”

  Outlaw slipped a hand between them and, a moment later, slanted his mouth over hers, almost devouring her and swallowing her cries before setting her on her feet.

  His dick was huge, wet and glistening with Meggie’s pussy juice, but she dropped to her knees and stretched her lips around him, raising her gaze to him and letting him fuck her mouth, the complete submission in her pose making Val dizzy and making Outlaw grip her hair and come like a maniac.

  And Val, too. Fisting his hand around his dickhead, cum filled his palm and he trembled, knowing he needed to look away. He’d seen Outlaw fuck on a number of occasions. But never with Meggie and never with…with the connection Val witnessed.

  “I love you, Christopher,” she murmured as he tied her robe.

  “Just in case a motherfucker roamin’ the hall.”

  “Zoann could’ve walked in on us making love and you’re worried about someone seeing me with my robe open?”

  “Zoann my sister and a chick like you. She ain’t got nothin’ I gotta fuckin’ hack off for gettin’ hard over you.”

  “Val’s right,” she chastised with a giggle. “You are a stalker psycho.”