Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

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Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 189

by Kathryn C. Kelly


  Mort reached in his cut to grab his cigarettes and his flask that had just about a drop of alcohol left—not enough for this shit. It helped him to pretend to focus some of his attention on his tasks of lighting his cigarette and draining his flask. “Where the fuck K-P buried him?”

  “Oh, he didn’t. Dad didn’t know. Neither does my mom. She probably would’ve knifed him before Dad could threaten him.”

  He puffed the cigarette. “Why you kept that shit to yourself? That could’ve been dangerous.”

  She scrunched her nose. “I was worried my parents would get in trouble because of Ulner.”

  Cigarette hanging from his mouth, he frowned. “Who-ner?”

  “Ulner. My boyfriend.”

  “Ex,” he stressed, although he didn’t think Bailey wanted the motherfucker. After all, she’d slept with Mortician. “Why didn’t you give him a little bit?”

  Ass in the air, she crawled to her pillows, propped both lumpy motherfuckers up, and flopped back. “I don’t know, Lucas. I just…I…he got closer to me than any other guy ever had.”

  “What the fuck that mean?” he growled. “He saw you naked and shit?”

  Her brows drew together, and she frowned at him, giving him a snobby little sniff.

  “No time for fucking saditiness, Bailey. Just answer my damn question.”

  “We saw each other naked once.”

  Mortician leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, holding his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. “What the fuck for? I know for a fact you were a virgin before I got inside of you, so…” His voice trailed off at Bailey’s flush and jealous anger burned into him. “He ate your fucking pussy, didn’t he?” he snarled, not allowing his mind to even think about what Bailey did in return. Or first. Or… “Didn’t he?”

  “You wanted to know something about me I’d never told you,” she pointed out, skirting his question.

  “Hearing that another motherfucker know what you look like with your clothes off not one of them.”

  “Stop being stupid, Lucas. I wasn’t completely innocent.” She did that uppity sniff again. “What does it matter anyway? It’s not like we’re a couple. And, even if we were, what I did in my past would have no bearing on what I do now with you.”

  “It don’t matter,” he grumbled, the bald-faced lie almost choking him. He’d intended to ask Ulner’s current location. Motherfucker sounded like he needed a visit, but Mortician didn’t want to know right now. “Next thing I don’t know about you and it better not be about some motherfucker putting his hands on you.”

  “What about his lips?” she said in a teasing tone, poking her tongue out at him. “Because I’ve been kissed before.”

  He couldn’t stop his smile and snorted, wondering how the fuck she always turned the tables on him. He was determined to make her admit her attachment to him, but she got him to act like a jealous boyfriend. That shit wasn’t flying. He stretched out his legs. “I’ve been kissed before, too,” he said with nonchalance. “By a lot of different bitches.”

  She stilled, hurt glimmering in her eyes, but, then, she pasted a phony fucking smile on her face. “I’ll bet you have.”

  Pinching the end of the cigarette to put it out, he rubbed his face. “Remember the bet I mentioned?”

  She refused to look at him, now staring at the ceiling. “What about it?”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “Just that you have a big bet with some of the guys about girls. Or not falling for girls. Something like that.”

  Well, she had the gist of it. “That shit don’t expire.”

  “Can’t you amend it? Put a time limit on it?”

  “No,” he snapped with impatience. “If I had a reason to amend it, which I don’t, that would be a dead fucking giveaway. I’d automatically lose.”

  “Right,” she said softly, making him feel low without saying a fucking thing.

  It was just the two of them. No one would ever be the wiser if he…what? He didn’t fucking know. As much as possible, he skirted her attempts to discover more about him. He gave her the barest information possible because he didn’t trust opening himself up to her. Any girl. But, as he thought about it, he realized he hadn’t known Bailey liked Sour Skittles and he had definitely not known about fucking Ulner. Mort knew she’d been a cheerleader. She was an A-B student, who wanted to get straight ‘A’s. He also knew she watched YouTube videos in her spare time.

  “What’s your best childhood memory?” Her sexy voice whispered through the stillness of the room.

  “Don’t have one,” he responded tersely.

  “Mine are always in between my mom’s marriages when she’d call my dad and he’d bite her head off for marrying losers.” Bailey swallowed. “What’s she going to do without him now? He was always there for her.”

  “Aww, sweetheart, your mom sounds like a strong chick. I know she hurting right now. We all are. If I could fucking get to Lowman…John Boy fucked him up too fucking easy. He took K-P and Big Joe from us and he made me and Prez’s life fucking miserable. If I never hated no fucking body, I hate that miserable motherfucker and want to dance the fuck on each place a part of his ass fucking buried.”

  Watery green-brown eyes widened and stared at him as if he’d lost his fucking mind. Maybe, he had. The shit that flew out of his mouth was fucking insane. True, but insane and nothing Bailey needed to know. Did she even know who’d killed her dad?

  “Wh-what do you mean John Boy killed him? Like Johnnie? That John Boy?” Alarm turned to shock. “You know who murdered Dad?”

  Well, that fucking answered his question.

  “Look, Bailey. You not supposed to know none of what I just said. Forget you fucking heard that.”

  She shot up from the bed and flew to him. “How can you expect me to do that?” she cried. “Dad’s dead and I’m going to—”

  “Do fuck all,” Mortician ordered, grabbing her shoulders. “Logan fucking dead, anyway, so there’s nothing left for you to do.”

  He clenched his jaw. He’d have to put a fucking lock on his tongue for more reasons than keeping it out of Bailey’s pussy. Once they got to Vegas, he’d put some distance between them. Which reminded him that he needed to call and make reservations at a hotel there. Bailey would need to rest.

  “Lucas? The Johnnie I know…?”

  “Yeah, man, that John Boy. You know another motherfucker name John Boy?”

  Ignoring his sarcasm, she blinked and blinked some more, as if she was still processing Mortician’s words. He supposed he’d hit her with a lot of murder and mayhem. Unable to resist, he took her into his arms.

  “It’s done, Bailey,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “We can’t bring K-P back. He need you to be strong. The last thing your fucking dad would want is you falling apart.”

  “He doesn’t have any wants in this. He’s the one who’s dead.”

  Mortician lifted a brow at the anger in her tone. “I’m not too sure about this, girl, but I don’t think K-P too happy about that shit, wherever he at. And if he anywhere near Lowman, he fucking him up right now.”

  Bailey giggled and relaxed her body against his. “I miss him. I just wish I could rewind the clock and, maybe, have him at my house or something.”

  “No. That would’ve gotten you dead, too.” Something Mortician didn’t even want to think about. “Lowman wouldn’t have allowed your presence to stop him. Understand? Don’t be carrying no guilt because there’s no reason for it.”

  She nodded and he kissed the top of her head, before releasing her.

  “We hitting the road early, so get some rest.”

  She heaved in a breath and hugged his neck, holding onto him tightly. If she asked him to fuck her, he wouldn’t been able to deny her. He’d slept a few hours and wasn’t sleepy at all.

  His awareness of Bailey’s arousal taunted him. He couldn’t forget how her mouth had tasted or how her body had felt beneath his. Fuck. He wished he could sleep again
, but he didn’t require a lot of sleep, his body long ago adjusting to the hours he kept.

  She didn’t make a move, just hung onto him. Unable to endure the feel of her soft body pressing against his, Mortician stood and lifted her at the same time. He closed the short distance to her bed and laid her down.

  “I’m going for a ride.”

  Alarm flashed in her eyes and she tensed.

  “No more than forty-five minutes, Bailey,” he promised. “I’m just not used to all this down time and I’m going fucking crazy.” He pointed behind him to where he’d dropped his flask on the bed. “I don’t even have no more vodka.”

  “I don’t want to be here by myself right now.”

  In other words, she needed him, and, suddenly, that frightened Mortician. He didn’t want any woman to ever need him because then he might start needing her. Before he said something really mean because he was feeling fucking brutal, he backed away from her. “Don’t open this fucking door for nobody.” His tone told her to shut the fuck up.

  Thankfully, she did.

  Chapter Sixteen: Brain First

  Awed by all the lights on the Vegas Strip, Bailey clutched Lucas’s waist tighter, her head swiveling in every direction. Electricity buzzed through her veins, infected by the livewire of her surroundings. Expensive cars, animated people, sprawling hotels and casinos, and dazzling lights worked their magic on her and almost overwhelmed her as much as Lucas did.

  For three days, they’d been together constantly, sharing one more motel room after the first one and swapping stories about her dad, although he never again mentioned John Boy or Lowman or pieces of people in different places to dance on their graves. They’d eaten together and laughed a little. He’d held her in his strong arms as she’d cried out her grief, unable to stop it from overwhelming her at times. Other than brotherly kisses on the forehead, though, he never attempted any intimacy with her.

  He’d said they were friends and there’d be no sex and he’d meant it. She couldn’t fault him for lying to her. She could only fault her heart for not believing him. At least, she knew what it was like to be in his arms. Although sex for her wasn’t that great when his penis got involved, it was the ultimate intimacy. But he’d hurt her the one time they’d made love. He was too big and she’d been too sore for them to try again, so she was happy there’d been no penetration, she supposed. On the other hand, her body protested and craved Lucas so much.

  He halted at a stoplight and hot, dry air brushed against her face. A carload of pretty girls rode up and began to call out lurid invitations to him. Instead of blowing them off, he revved his engine and nodded.

  The light changed after interminable moments and he sped off. For a time, the girls tried to keep up. His deep, sexy laughter floated to Bailey on a breeze. Jealousy burned through her, along with a good dose of loneliness.

  On a deeper level, she knew why she’d left her mother, grandmother, and siblings to move closer to her father. Kaleb Paul Andrews had been a good dad. It hadn’t worked out between her mother and him, but he’d always kept in contact with Bailey. Whatever her mother needed—whenever she needed it—he’d been there. In between Roxy’s husbands and the birth of her four additional children, he’d been there. In between her mother’s many changes in majors at the community college, he’d been there. When Bailey’s granddad had dropped dead and her uncle had been murdered, he’d been there.

  Bailey’s dad had always been there. They’d spoken at least three times a week until six months ago when Bailey made the ultimate decision to move to Hortensia because of Ulner after she’d broken up with him. Her best friend since childhood, Finley Abbot, had encouraged her to transfer colleges and attend Texas A&M with him.

  For Bailey, Ulner’s stalking just solidified the decision to move closer to her dad. She’d talked about it, on and off, since she’d been sixteen, but always decided against it because of her mom, even though Roxanne aka Roxy, hadn’t ever discouraged her.

  “Your daddy’s a good man, baby. You should get to know him a little better.”

  Bailey would see the sadness in her mom’s eyes and always chickened out. But, then, Ulner had started following her everywhere, amping up his obsession with threats. She’d decided not even A&M was far enough away. New Orleans to Houston was no more than five or six hours by car.

  So she’d left and went to her dad’s. And…and here she was. Alone. She’d made friends but it wasn’t the same as having her sisters, brother, cousins, aunts, and uncles. Girls she’d grown up with or her mom and grandmother. She liked Meggie and Kendall a lot, but they were still new to her. Fin was visiting for the summer, but even that didn’t matter. Out of everything else, she’d fallen for a man who just wanted her friendship.

  Lucas pulled into one of the big hotels that had so captivated her from the moment they’d arrived on the strip. The water from the lighted fountains roared around her. The valet guys were busy with car after car, running around like beavers. Horns were honking as the men waved drivers into place. Whistles screeched through the air to aid in the vehicle movement. It was busy and beautiful and overwhelming.

  One of the guys spotted Lucas. He nodded at them. At Lucas’s wave, the other man ran and cleared a cordoned off area. Lucas maneuvered through the vehicles and slid into the space, then glanced over his shoulder, giving her a pointed look. Time for her to get off.

  “This your girl, Mort?” the man who’d cleared this special spot for Lucas asked.

  His girl?

  “Yeah,” Lucas confirmed. He squinted at her as if he saw the whirling of her thoughts and the sudden racing of her heart. She flushed as he growled, “Bailey.”

  The attendant grabbed her elbow. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you registered and safely in your room.”

  “Don’t have to be touching her, motherfucker,” Lucas snapped. “She don’t need you feeling up on her. Just take care of her. Make sure she safe.”

  His words touched something inside of her and removed some of her annoyance at his behavior with the girls at the stoplight. He was such an enigma. Sweet. Distant. Possessive. Grouchy. Considerate. Arrogant.

  Each one of his moods reeled her in deeper, intrigued her a little more.

  “Something happen to Bailey and I’m fucking you up.”

  The broad shouldered man grinned and Lucas glowered at him.

  “I’ll be fine,” Bailey said with confidence. She opened the saddlebag and retrieved the backpack he’d purchased for her. She knew he had a job to do here, but she didn’t realize he’d get to it the moment they arrived. “Just direct me to the front desk.”

  Pulling cash from his pocket, Lucas peeled off a few bills, then handed them to the valet guy. “Give me a minute with her, Dooney.”

  “Five minutes,” he offered. “Give me time to park a car and you a moment to settle your shit.”

  The moment Dooney walked away, Lucas handed Bailey the rest of the money.

  “Reservations for Lucas Banks. Party of two.”

  She frowned at the money. “I have to pay now?”

  “No, girl. Money for you. That’s only a couple hundred in twenties.” Clenching his jaw, he looked away. “I don’t think…I’m not coming back tonight, so have fun in the fucking casino and shit.”

  So, maybe, it wasn’t for the job he’d been sent to do if he wasn’t returning tonight. Her stomach dropped at his insinuation. “You’re going to another woman?”

  “Bailey—”

  “Don’t,” she said succinctly and rushed to explain. “I’ve heard everything you’ve said about your bet. Everything you’ve said about relationships. We’re here with no one to see us. I can give you what another woman can. Don’t go anywhere else. Let me be with you.”

  “No.”

  He hadn’t even hesitated. Just one, clear, cold word falling from his mouth.

  “Fine. Have fun then.” She held up the money. “Thank you.”

  Before she backed away, Lucas grabbed her chin and
sighed. “I can’t take more pussy from you, Bailey. I just can’t.”

  He’d made that very clear tonight, but his mixed signals were confusing and unfair. He teased her with his body, taunted her with sexy words, so she’d decided to lay her feelings for him out there.

  “I can’t take your pussy,” he reiterated.

  “Even if I want to give it to you?” she whispered.

  “Fuck, man. Shut the fuck up. We promised we’d be friends and nothing else.”

  “You promised,” she snapped.

  He balled his leather-gloved hands into fists. “And you fucking agreed.” He shifted and pinned her with a scowl. “I know you a young bitch and got addicted to dick now that I gave you mine—”

  Every man thought their world began and ended with their penises. She rolled her eyes. “No,” she interrupted in exasperation, “I’m not addicted to that. It really wasn’t great.”

  Lucas’s mouth thinned and his eyes narrowed. “What the fuck that mean?”

  She winced at his affronted tone.

  “You talking about the way I fuck?”

  “I have nothing to compare your abilities to. All I know is it hurt. You’re too big. I get more pleasure from my own fingers or when you used your tongue. I just want to be close to you and I don’t want you going to anyone else while we’re here together.”

  Glaring at her, Lucas nodded and sped off without another word, leaving her alone in the middle of a place that had dazzled her minutes before.

  Now, it just left her cold.

  Little. Insulting. Fucking. Bitch.

  Mortician couldn’t believe Bailey’s words about his dick not being so great. Bitches sought him out to fuck, complimenting his size and she was fucking complaining about it being too fucking big?

  Well, fuck her and the cherry he popped in her a few days ago.

  Gritting his teeth, Mort winced at the thought and pulled in at a gas station a few blocks from the hotel.

  He stalked inside and paid for a full tank, picked up a pack of cigarettes and a beer, then headed back to his bike, his thoughts stuck on Bailey.

 

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