Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  His guilt falling away and his confidence growing, Knox brought his mouth close to Roxy’s ear. “I’ve met your family. I’d like to introduce you to mine.” That would really win him points with her.

  “Really, Knox?” she said, her voice as soft as her look.

  He nodded. “Really.”

  She thought for a moment. “When?” she asked finally, as he knew she would. What woman wouldn’t want the chance to meet his parents? They’d feel special, as if they had a real chance with him.

  “How about tomorrow evening?” He’d already planned to dine with them. It was their monthly date. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “Are you sure they’ll be okay with me?” she asked after a moment.

  A steel spine with a soft center. That was the essence of Roxy. Whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  “Why wouldn’t they be? Because you’re Black or older?”

  She scowled at him. “Both,” she chirped with an adorable sniff. “Either.”

  He’d cross that bridge when he came to it, though he wouldn’t tell her that. He didn’t want to scare her off. Besides, the question alone gave him hope that her new surroundings would intimidate her into good behavior. “Of course not. My parents are the most liberal, open-minded folks you’ll ever meet. Just trust me.”

  “No. Once a motherfucker says to trust him, that’s the last fucking thing I need to do. So fuck no.”

  Seeing her doubt at her answer, Knox wasn’t too concerned, certain that she’d change her mind. Satisfied at how nicely things were going, he settled back, having her just where he wanted her to be. In the palm of his hand.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Christopher tugged Megan into the crook of his arm and kissed the top of her head. Her skin was hot and her hair was damp from their vigorous fucking. The moment they’d gotten to their bedroom, he’d had to get pussy from her. She was just so fucking gorgeous, glowing in her pregnancy. It surprised the fuck out of him but he almost regretted that he’d never see her belly swollen with his kid again once she delivered this little motherfucker. The world knew he was the lucky motherfucker who got to fuck her and be responsible for her condition.

  “Christopher?” Megan called, her voice hoarse because she’d sucked him off then, later, screamed his name as he fucked her.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Knox mentioned something to me that I think you should know about.”

  All the good relaxation he’d gotten from getting in Megan’s pussy fled and his muscles tensed. He really didn’t fucking feel like getting the fuck up to go and kill a stupid motherfucker. But if he had to he would. Especially if he’d fucked with Megan. “What the fuck he mention to you?”

  Turning into him, she fisted his cock and began to stroke. “Promise me you won’t kill anyone.”

  She thumbed his cockhead and he sucked in a breath, a shiver going through him.

  “Tell me what the fuck you gotta say first,” he croaked, not at all sounding like the angry motherfucker he should be that Knox was still fucking with him. Megan squeezed the base of his dick and he pumped his hips, then gritted his teeth to resist her. “You wicked little bitch.”

  She slid herself to his cock, rubbing her hard nipples along his thigh, and then stroked her tongue along the throbbing vein. “Please? Promise you won’t kill.”

  Before he could answer, she slid his cock into her mouth, allowing the crown to touch the back of her throat. Tingles danced along his spine. If he held off from his agreement, she’d continue to suck him. Fuck, it felt so good. She only used cocksucking to manipulate him in dire situations. Otherwise, she freely gave of herself. This had to be bad as a motherfucker.

  Gasping at her hard draw, he made himself put his hand on the back on her head to stop her. “Tell me,” he said in a strangled voice. “I ain’t gonna kill no motherfucker.”

  She lifted her head, then repositioned herself to get more comfortable between his legs and began to absently stroke his cock. Her pregnancy made it more difficult but she settled herself and met his gaze. “Knox said Brooks has been telling him secrets.”

  Lost in Megan’s touch, it took a moment for Christopher to register the words. When he did, he narrowed his eyes. “The motherfucker doin’ what?”

  “I don’t know exactly what he’s saying and I don’t think it’s as bad as Knox is making it seem.”

  “Get up,” he ordered.

  Sighing, she sat back at her haunches. “Christopher—”

  He jumped out of bed and stalked to his jeans, hurrying into them. “Shut the fuck up, baby. You fuckin’ knew my ass would go to Brooks and cut his fuckin’ tongue out, then his eyes, then his ears, and watch him bleed to fuckin’ death.”

  Megan frowned at him.

  “I ain’t fuckin’ toleratin’ a fuckin’ rat motherfucker, especially Brooks. He fuckin’ lucky to be alive and he still fuckin’ over me?”

  “You have no proof of that,” Megan argued. “Just give him a chance.”

  “Fuck no! I ain’t got a fuckin’ chance to give him. Don’t you fuckin’ see, baby? If Knox get something on my fuckin’ ass, I’ma be in jail for the rest of my fuckin’ life. That mean, you and me ain’t ever bein’ together again. You fuckin’ want that? You wanna risk us just to save a motherfucker life?”

  Her face fell. “I wouldn’t risk you for anything,” she said softly. “The week you spent in jail was the most miserable of my life. I could do nothing but cry myself to sleep. If you…if you…if Brooks is betraying you, then I understand he’ll have dire consequences. Please, just wait to find out. Ask Roxy to discover what Brooks told Knox.”

  “Wait a fuckin’ minute. Roxy knew about this and she ain’t told me?”

  “Knox told all the girls when he came to greet Roxy.”

  Memories of the way his little sister had fucked over him on behalf of Kendall and her two motherfuckers hit Christopher. Of all the bitches, he’d thought he could trust Roxanne. That still left Zoann and Bailey. He wouldn’t even count Kendall. She’d want to see him locked under the jail with piles of cement on top of his ass and the fucking key thrown into shark-infested waters.

  “I guess they knew I’d tell you.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” he snarled. “My fuckin’ phone should be blowin’ the fuck up with this news. This ain’t shit you keep the fuck under wraps.”

  Megan got to her feet, her pregnant belly and swollen tits drawing Christopher’s attention. Worry creased her brow and he rubbed the back of his neck, willing himself to calm down for her sake. He went to her and wrapped her in his arms. She stood on tiptoe and he automatically bent so she could hug him. When he lifted her off her feet, she giggled.

  “Let’s see what happens in the morning,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. “You tasted so good, I really want to finish what I started.”

  When had he ever denied Megan a request? Not in recent memory, so he certainly wasn’t about to fucking start now.

  Arriving at the clubhouse the next morning, Christopher found Roxy waiting for him. He wouldn’t tip her off to what he knew. Instead, he’d see what she had to say. See if he could trust her.

  “You up early,” he started, heading to his table. He knew Megan was running late and was happy to see Roxy had coffee brewing.

  “I needed to talk to you before anybody got here,” she stated.

  “Yeah?”

  She scowled at him. “Don’t fuckin’ play fuckin’ dumb. I know Meggie must’ve told you about Knox saying Brooks shared secrets with him.”

  “She did,” he admitted. “My question to you is why the fuck you waited all fuckin’ night?”

  “Because I was tired,” she said simply.

  What the fuck was wrong with him? Roxy had never lied to him. She was a solid bitch. He was letting the bad taste of Fee’s actions color his thinking. He grunted, but didn’t say anything else.

  She stood. “Well, I told you,” she grumped. “I’ll see you later.
”

  “Find out what Brooks told Knox,” he stated, feeling like a dickhead for doubting her.

  “How do you want me to do that?”

  “You a smart bitch, babe. I trust you to figure it out.”

  “You want some coffee?” she asked with a prissy little sniff.

  Fuck, but bitches were all the same. They got their asses on their fucking shoulders when they were pissed.

  “Yeah.”

  “Knox invited me to his family dinner,” she said, once she’d served him his coffee and had a cup of her own. “I told him no but I guess I could call and ask if the invitation is still open.”

  “Sound like a fuckin’ plan to me,” Christopher agreed, wondering at the unease in her eyes. “Motherfucker ain’t hurt you, huh?”

  “No, Outlaw,” she said, looking away. “He can be rather charming when he wants to be.”

  For a moment, Christopher wondered why that would be a problem, then he remembered. Roxanne was still female. Despite her toughness, she had a woman’s heart and that left her vulnerable to Knox’s bullshit.

  That was just something else to make Knox’s death a little more painful.

  Later that evening, Roxy pulled to the side of the road, wondering if she’d made a wrong turn somewhere. After passing expensive homes sitting on huge lots, a gated area loomed ahead of her. She frowned, picked up her phone and read Knox’s text, then compared them to the directions on the GPS in Bailey’s Escalade.

  Knox did mention being allowed entry when she’d called and told him she’d changed her mind about going to dinner at his parents. For some reason, Roxy thought maybe they lived in a secured apartment building. She never expected mansions and acreage and an area where the smell of money permeated the air.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she looked carefully in both directions before pulling onto the road again and driving to the gate where a security guard stepped out of a little office and indicated she roll the window down.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes.” She searched her mind for Knox’s last name. “Er, I’m going to the Harrington residence.”

  Recognition lit his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Knox told me to be on the lookout for you. I just need your license.”

  “Oh. Uh, yeah, sure.” Roxy got her driver’s license from her wallet and held it out to the guard.

  He grinned. “You’re from Louisiana, eh?”

  “Born and raised,” Roxy responded with pride.

  He handed her the license back. “Good luck, Ms. Doucette.”

  After her first marriage disintegrated and she had to go through the hassle of having her license changed—no way was she keeping the name of a motherfucker she was through with—Roxy didn’t bother to update it again. Husbands came and went. As long as she had her maiden name, her identification would remain the same.

  “Would you mind giving me directions from here?” she asked after she returned her license to her wallet.

  “Sure. Take a left at the corner, then a right. Drive to the end of the road.”

  “Thank you. Have a good evening.” Smiling, she rolled the window up and followed the guard’s directions, arriving at a huge gray brick house that sat on a small hill. At her approach, a wrought iron gate slid open.

  She peeped in her rearview mirror to see if anyone was behind her, to make sure the invitation had been extended to her. When she was sure it had been, she turned into the driveway and drove up a twisty road that brought her to the side of the house.

  Her car door opened and a white-haired gentleman stood there. “Hutchens, ma’am,” he introduced. “At your service. Mr. Knox is expecting you. If you’ll follow me.”

  She cleared her throat. “Who are you?”

  “The Harrington’s butler,” he answered politely.

  “Right.” Getting out of the Escalade, Roxy used the fob to engage the alarm, frowning when Hutchens held out his hand. “You’re not getting these keys.”

  He remained expressionless. “I will have the car brought to the front of the house, ma’am. You missed your turn-off and ended up on the side.”

  “I’m arriving through the side and I’ll leave through the side, but you’re not getting these fucking keys.”

  “Very good, ma’am,” he responded, dropping his hand to indicate the door. “If you’ll follow me.”

  Not that she had a choice, if she wanted to see Knox. Maybe, she should’ve allowed him to escort her there, but she thought having a vehicle at her disposal if she didn’t like his family—they didn’t like her—was best.

  Inside, Roxy realized she’d stepped into the dining room. The most beautiful chandelier she’d ever seen sparkled in the dim light, an abundance of teardrop crystals giving it an otherworldly glow. Taking in the furnishings, smelling the wood polish, made Roxy feel as if each of her steps drew her closer to judgment. She hoped she was wrong. She prayed that her innate suspicion of people had her feeling as if they’d take one look at her and ask her to leave. Either for color or for age. It didn’t matter.

  She had to be wrong. Knox wouldn’t invite her there to be insulted.

  “Mr. Knox, your guest has arrived.”

  All too soon, Hutchens spoke those words and stepped aside so Roxy could walk into the room where wood kindled in the fireplace, sending out a toasty warmth. Knox sat in a wing-backed chair, dressed in a dark suit. Across from him were a man and a woman, both older and well-dressed.

  Roxy wore a sparkling jumpsuit with strappy sandals. She was presentable, but the distaste registering on the woman’s face said something else. Knox stood and came to her, smiling widely, either ignoring the way those two motherfuckers were responding or not seeing it.

  “You made it,” he said, taking both her hands into his and squeezing. He stepped aside. “Mom, Dad, this is Roxy.”

  They looked at her, then focused on Knox. His smile slipped.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked quickly. “I’m starving.”

  “I’m not sitting at a fucking table with Mr. and Mrs. Pinch Face staring at me like I’m a fucking freak show circus act, Knox.”

  He went still before his eyes widened and he closed them. “Jesus Christ, Roxy,” he breathed, clearly embarrassed.

  If shocked expressions were for sale, Roxy would have a lot of money. His parents’ disbelief morphed into indignation and his father stood.

  “Excuse me?”

  “No, excuse you,” she snapped. “I didn’t just show up here because I was in the neighborhood. Knox invited me. Although I have to wonder why.”

  “That’s a very good question,” his mother said through tight lips.

  Roxy was waiting for that bitch’s face to crack.

  “You invited me to your family gathering. I wanted to extend the same courtesy.” Knox shoved his hands through his hair. “Mom, Dad, please extend her the courtesy you would any of my other guests. Otherwise, I’ll leave with Roxy and we’ll have dinner someplace else.”

  Roxy preferred that. But she knew she needed to follow his lead in order to discover all that Brooks had told him, as Outlaw requested.

  His mom sniffed as if a bad smell reached her nose. “Fine, son. Just settle down.” She nodded to Hutchens. “Please, see that supper is served immediately in the petite dining room.”

  The “petite dining room” turned out to have a round table in an intimate little room where a door led to the kitchen. As she was served her salad and a glass of wine, Roxy realized Knox’s parents hadn’t even offered her their first names.

  Fuck them. She-bitch wasn’t opening her goddamn mouth. She just sent Roxy imperious little glances, while He-bitch talked to Knox. He tried to draw Roxy in, but He-bitch insisted on talking stocks, bonds, and financial reports. Knox clearly understood what futures meant, the world’s index market and the differences between bull and bear markets.

  It was a rare occasion that Roxy felt in over her head, but she supposed everyone had an off day. The unfriendly motherfuckers brought her bac
k to her days at the club.

  “Let’s retire to my sitting room,” She-bitch said at the end of the meal as the dessert plates were cleared away. “While Knox and his father catch-up.”

  Roxy stood. “No, thank you. I have to go.” The whole point was being with Knox to discover more about him. Find out exactly what he knew. She wouldn’t do that locked in a room with She-bitch and no way in hell would she subject herself to the woman if she didn’t have to.

  “I feel like I’ve occupied all my son’s time,” He-bitch said with mock regret. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, you sure the fu—”

  Knox clapped a hand over her mouth. “Let’s have one drink with my parents.”

  Knocking his hand away, Roxy threw Knox a dirty look. “Let’s get something straight, motherfucker. Don’t ever put your fucking hands on me. I say what the fuck I want to, when the fuck I want to.”

  “Not in my house,” She-bitch said with venom. “I don’t know what kind of joke Knox is playing but bringing you here is in bad form. You’re vulgar and ignorant. More to the point, you aren’t his type. He likes quiet, respectable young women. Like the one he wed.”

  “You’re married?” Roxy snarled, so angry at She-bitch’s words she wanted to leap over the table and pound her face in.

  “No,” Knox said. “She’s my ex-wife and she lives across the country.”

  “With your son,” She-bitch spat. “You two never should’ve divorced.”

  “Stop, Mother,” Knox warned.

  “Why? This is a doomed relationship. Callie might’ve been close to your age, like this woman, but since your breakup you haven’t introduced us to a girl less than five years younger than you. So what game is this?”