Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Nervous, Bunny surveyed Digger’s new room one last time. It was bigger, with a wider, longer window, more closet space, and a bigger bathroom. As much as she wanted to make it female-friendly, she knew better than to add plants or frills. Instead, she spruced it up by splurging on a new comforter and curtains. As a room-warming gift, she also purchased a skull grinder and a tobacco pipe of a big-breasted girl. She found marijuana-themed wrapping paper with her friend, Gypsy's, help. The gifts sat on the desk, right in front of the entertainment system.

  She’d left his walls bare, except for the sign that read Welcome to your new room. If she’d taken the posters off the walls in his current room, it would’ve raised his suspicions.

  Chewing on her lip, she glanced around again, hoping she hadn’t forgotten anything before she called him to come in. With that in mind, she studied herself in the mirror she’d hung on the front of the bathroom door. Her green cutout chemise with black garters and stockings and black stilettos pleased her.

  Wearing the outfit to seduce Mark because of the mutual attraction left her feeling empowered. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen herself as a sexual being. She’d been goods and she’d had to market herself as such to make money.

  Tossing her hair, she puckered her lips, giggling at her silliness.

  She wasn’t sure if Digger wanted her to jump on his cock immediately or if she was supposed to entertain him first and then they ease into it.

  Deciding to play it by ear, she went to the desk and opened the door, pulling out a bottle of red wine, a pint of vodka, a flute glass, and a highball tumbler. After preparing her wine and his vodka and checking one last time to make sure everything was in place, Bunny texted Digger.

  Come to Mort’s old room

  Nerves set in as she awaited his response and she shifted from foot-to-foot, then checked the song on the MP3 player connected to the stereo. Still nothing from Digger.

  Had he changed his mind?

  Chewing on her lower lip, she turned toward the closet, intending to find a shirt to cover her near nakedness. The opening door interrupted her intentions and she halted.

  “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” Digger began, limping into the room and stopping when he saw her. He placed the brown bag he carried near her wrapped gift, not commenting one way or the other. Instead, he studied her from head-to-toe and a slow smile curved his mouth. “Fuck, I really didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

  She giggled like a virginal school girl, her face heating up, her brilliant idea suddenly not as appealing now that he faced her, his smoldering gaze promising her all types of wickedness. He closed the door, unconcerned at her bout of uncertainty. Not taking his eyes off her, he hobbled to the bed and sat on the edge.

  Bunny grabbed their glasses and brought him the vodka. “This is for you.” Their fingers brushed as he accepted the drink from her and desire shot raced through her like an electric current.

  He sipped his drink, then patted the bed. “Sit next to me.”

  “I had a surprise for you.” She tasted her wine. “I-I m-mean another surprise.”

  “What’s the first one?” He winked at her. “You in here looking so gorgeous and sexy and good enough to eat?”

  Licking her lips, Bunny relaxed by a margin. “You’re a smooth talker.”

  “I’m a truthful talker.”

  She nodded, determined to push all her hang-ups aside, some borne of her own doing and others because of Trader. Digger wasn’t Trader, not by a long shot. She wanted to prove to him—and herself—that she trusted him with her body and her emotions. And, yes, she wanted to see his reaction to her dancing. Would that change his opinion of her? Could she even tell immediately, if it did?

  But dancing had been a part of her life, good or bad, and the more she hid from it, the more it tortured her.

  “You think too fucking much.”

  She frowned. “We all think.”

  “You overthink, Bunny.” He finished his vodka and sat the glass down, leaned forward and took her glass, finished the contents, then sat it aside too. “Come here.”

  As if she had a choice, with the way he pulled her between his thighs and settled his hands at her back. He skimmed his lips along her breasts, the material of her chemise serving as no barrier against the heat of his tongue.

  Bending her head and thrusting her fingers through his hair, she kissed him, groaning into his mouth at the feel of his tongue against her own.

  “Slow down,” he whispered, when she would’ve forged ahead. “Not a fuckin’ place I gotta be, baby. My ass still hurtin’ too much.”

  “Okay.”

  He touched the corner of her mouth, his brown eyes soft with patience and understanding. “If you not ready to give me my surprise, I got something for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Go look in that bag for your first present.”

  The prospect of a gift exciting her, Bunny turned on her heel and rushed to the plain brown bag, almost ripping it apart in her haste to open it. In her wildest dreams, she hadn’t expected to find a cut with her name stitched on the front and the words Property of Digger Banks embroidered on the back.

  She turned to face him, clutching the leather to her breast. “For me?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You know another bitch named Bunny?”

  “Actually, several,” she admitted with a small laugh. “It’s an excellent name for the pole.” She scrunched her nose. “And college cheerleaders.”

  Digger snickered. “I bet it fucking is. So let me ask you this. Any other chick around here that I know named Bunny but you?”

  “No.”

  “So then the fucking cut must be for you.” He cocked his head to the side. “Do you want it?”

  In response, she shrugged into it, covering most of her chemise.

  “Fuck, girl, it’s harder to disregard your pussy when the edge of that cut stop right over it.”

  “Why would you want to ignore my pussy? I thought the point was to get in it.”

  “Stop with the dirty talk. I’m trying to put you at ease. The only way to do that is to overlook the pussy.”

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “It isn’t you, I swear. It’s me.”

  “Don’t do that shit,” he snapped. “A motherfucker don’t like to hear the it’s not you, it’s me speech. I don’t know what the fuck got you so up in arms, but if you not ready to fuck me then we wait ‘til you are.”

  He sounded neither angry nor disappointed, although some impatience laced his words. “I’m nervous because I want to dance for you and I’m scared of what you’ll think of me. With my past—”

  His raised hand interrupted her. “The only person your past fucks with is you. Well, maybe, your mom, but that’s your mom and all mommas want the fucking best for their children. Even before I got back, you was amongst friends. People who don’t give a fuck if you danced naked from the moon and let the world see it. Those who do, not your fucking friends. You send any motherfucker my way if they hurt you, although I don’t think that’ll happen. Not many motherfuckers know about the old you. Just the new you. One other thing. Whoever the fuck got a problem with what you did? That shit on them, not you, and you not accountable to a motherfucker or his momma for what you did then or fucking now.”

  The more Digger spoke, the better she felt. Stiffening her spine, she gave him a level look. “I was fine before I sent the text. I felt like…I felt feminine and sexy, but nerves set in when you took so long.”

  “I’m not exactly in a position to run around this motherfucker. It would’ve been much simpler if you would’ve come to my room, then having my stiff, cripple ass staggering to this one.”

  “About that.” She cleared her throat. “This is another surprise.”

  “What? This room?”

  “Yeah. Mort doesn’t use it anymore, so I asked if he’d give it to you. I spruced it up a little and everything.”

  Genuine shock lit his face and he g
lanced around, touching on the window with the new dressing and the updated comforter. He grinned at her. “Where my pictures of my naked girls?”

  “On your walls,” she answered with a sniff and folded her arms. “If I would’ve taken them down, you would’ve known something was up.”

  Drumming his fingers on his thigh, he cocked his head to the side. “Suppose I leave them right the fuck where they at? I don’t need to look at those bitches when I got a beautiful woman of my own. Would you like that?”

  She nodded, surprised at how well attuned to her he was. Even more shocking was his attentiveness, different from what he’d shown her in the past. He was going out of his way to show her she meant something to him.

  He leaned back and dug into his pocket, producing a platinum ring with a small diamond in the center.

  “Oh my god!” she breathed.

  “This not an engagement ring,” he said, catching her gaze and holding it. “Not yet. We still getting to know each other and I don’t have my cut back.” He snorted. “That’s some shit, huh? You got a fucking cut and I don’t.”

  He fisted the ring in his hand and she sat next to him, leaning her chin on his shoulder. “If you don’t get your cut back, I won’t need mine.”

  “You got a place here, Bunny. Without the support of the club, I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do. I grew up a fucking rich boy and became a biker. Wealth and mayhem the only shit I know.”

  She did have a place there. That was one of the reasons she’d stuck with Trader for so long. And, yet, if she walked away tomorrow, she knew she’d always have a place to return. Outlaw and Meggie had become her family, and they—everyone—accepted her for who she was.

  It was time she did the same. Time to look toward the future, instead of allowing her past to hamper her and block the happiness she knew she could find with Digger.

  She hugged him. “Wherever you go, I’m coming, if you’ll have me.”

  Taking her into his arms, he settled her onto his lap and groaned. She squirmed in an attempt to move, but he tightened his hold on her, his erection throbbing against her ass.

  “As long as you want to be at my side, I’m not fucking stopping you, Albany.” He grinded his hips against her, laughing at her small moan. “As for the ring, it’s a promise. I promise you that I’ll always protect you and do right by you. I like when you smile. It lights up your entire face and thanks to that motherfucker Prez popped, you not been smiling too much lately. I promise that as soon as we ready, I’ll marry you and give you whatever I can. Whatever you want. To the best of my abilities cuz, I can’t have a repeat of the last two years. The ass-beating Prez put on me opened my fucking eyes more than Mort bailing me out or Sharper blackmailing me ever could. I don’t ever want to hear the words Outlaw looking for you. That motherfucker don’t play.”

  She laughed at his stagy sing-song voice. “You’re so silly.”

  “Silly, I might fucking be, but I’m fucking truthful.”

  “In other words, if Outlaw had beat your ass at the beginning of all this, a lot of crap would’ve been prevented?”

  “Fuck, yeah. It’s going to take me fucking weeks to recover.”

  “Poor baby,” she murmured, nipping his ear.

  “So what do you say to everything I told you?”

  What should she say? That she felt her feelings for him deepening? After the past half hour, she’d fallen just a little in love with him. But was she ready to tell him? She suspected he wasn’t ready for those words from her and even if he was, she wasn’t ready to put herself out there.

  “You give motherfuckers a complex. If you have to think that long on a simple fucking question, that don’t seem good for me.”

  “It is,” she said quickly. “I was just thinking how lucky I am to have found you and what a wonderful man I think you are.”

  To her, he didn’t have as hard of an edge as the rest of them. She knew he was still lethal, still a killer, but so much less intense than Outlaw, Mort, Val, and Johnnie.

  Taking her hand into his own, he slid the ring onto her finger and grinned at her. “Now, can I have some pussy?”

  “In a minute.”

  His brows snapped together, but she placed her finger over his lips and got to her feet, hurrying to the entertainment center and pressing ‘play.’ The moment You Can Leave Your Hat On blasted through, Bunny put her body into motion. Realizing her intention, Digger straightened, and followed her every move, her every grind. When she removed her cut, in time with the music, she dangled her breasts in front of him, teasing him as she laid the leather next to him. He reached for her but she twirled out of the way, just out of arm’s reach.

  She knew the song so well. It had always been one of her favorites. The sultry tone energized her. Counting down in her head, she noted the thirty-seconds left until it ended and grabbed the halter of her chemise and yanked. The snaps keeping it closed, popped open. She let the chemise slide to the ground, her breath catching when Digger managed to grab her hand.

  Plastering his mouth over hers, he settled her onto the bed and rolled onto her. With a few, quick maneuvers, he sank into her and they both groaned.

  “I’m going to make it up to you for just sticking my cock in you without no foreplay,” he said huskily.

  She lifted her hips, her body stretched with the thick length of him inside of her. “No complaints from me,” she promised on his gasp, pleasure streaking through her at a particularly deep thrust.

  Whatever else her future held, she knew Digger would be right at her side and she couldn’t have been happier.

  Six weeks later, Christopher sat at his table in the corner, keeping a watch on Megan as she spoke to a few of the brothers she hadn’t seen in months. The main room was filled to capacity and not because of church or lockdown. It was crowded just because. Just the way his clubhouse was supposed to be.

  His. He couldn’t deny that this place was his. It was him. Except it wasn’t only him, any longer. Walking away because his family was endangered was for the best. Although his heart hurt that he would resign before he was ready, he’d have no fucking regrets. He’d always carry the memories, good and fucking horrendous, inside of him.

  Mort, Bailey, and Roxy came into his line of vision, stopping where Megan was. He thought they’d just arrived, but he wasn’t sure. He’d been lost in thought for a minute and had only paid attention to what went on with his wife. Digger rounded the corner from the hallway, dragging Bunny along with him, just as Zoann and Kendall walked from the kitchen.

  As if that bitch felt his eyes on her, Kendall turned and frowned at him, settling her hands on her belly, like he was supposed to give a fuck.

  Sunlight angled in, indicating the entrance door opening. Diesel walked in, carrying CJ.

  Scowling, Christopher beckoned them over, hoping Megan didn’t intercept. This was supposed to be a kid-free day. No such fucking luck. Just like he kept a fucking eagle-eye on her, she had radar where their kids were concerned.

  She reached the table just as Diesel and CJ halted and his boy wiggled to get down.

  “Hey, buddy,” Megan greeted, running her fingers through CJ’s hair when he barreled into her and hugged her legs. “You’re giving Diesel and Aunt Ophelia a rough time, aren’t you?”

  “Wule wants me play with him and I tired, Mommie. I want Harway, but Wule not let me.”

  “It’s hard being the big brother, sweet potato.” She raised her gaze to Diesel. “Get Harley and take her and CJ outside.”

  “What you doing, Meggie girl?” Mortician asked, overhearing the last comment. He dropped into one of the chairs at the table. “Getting Little Man to corrupt my daughter?”

  “No. Just trying to reward my son for being a good brother.”

  He smirked at her. “Well, when Bailey deliver my son, CJ can teach Harley how to be a good sister.”

  “Omigod!” Megan screeched, clapping her hands. “You’re having a boy?”

  “I’m not, but Ba
iley is,” Mort quipped.

  She hugged Mort. “Congratulations. How long have you known? Bailey didn’t tell me.”

  “We wasn’t going to find out, but then she just changed her fucking mind today at her appointment.”

  “’Law?” CJ said, and Mort and Megan’s conversation grew into white noise for a moment.

  “Yeah, boy?”

  Without invitation, CJ climbed into Christopher’s lap and laid his head against him.

  “I tired, ‘Law.”

  So he wasn’t only tired of fucking around with Rule, but he was sleepy.

  Shifting his weight, Christopher readjusted CJ on his lap. “Close your eyes, then.”

  Unnecessary words since CJ relaxed against him and nodded off within moments.

  Megan held her phone up. To take a photo, Christopher knew. She loved snapshots of him and their children. “Diesel, take him to the nursery,” she instructed. “I’ll be home in a little while, to put Rebel and Rule down for their afternoon naps.”

  Not protesting, Christopher allowed Diesel to carry CJ away. He and Mort exchanged glances, before he sighed and looked at Megan. She didn’t mention Dinah much and neither did he. The less that whiny bitch was discussed, the better. He never wanted Megan to find out about Dinah’s betrayal and if they talked about her, chances were high Christopher would let it slip.

  He’d learned his lesson when he’d withheld the fact that Big Joe’s grave was empty.

  “It’s been a long month,” she said softly.

  “Yeah, baby,” he agreed. “And it was all cuz of me.”

  Frowning, Megan narrowed her eyes. “You? Please explain to me how that’s possible. You didn’t cause all the chaos of the past few days. It was outside forces.”

  “Yeah, Prez. Namely Sharper fucking Banks.”

  “Yeah, Mort, assfuck wanted my ass dead, but he wanted Megan…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “You got no fuckin’ idea what it’d do to me if I lost you. So, yeah, Ima fuckin’ resign come church in two days.”

  “Prez—”

  Megan silenced Mort with a look. “You should, Christopher,” she said, walking to him and kissing his lips.