DUKE: A Alpha Male Bad Boy Millionaire MC Romance (New Adult & Contemporary Romance)

by Jax Hart

  The sound of my fly unzipping, is surprisingly loud in the dark. Through the walls the bass guitar and drums beat through, vibrating. Carefully, I take my coat off laying it on a shelf. My wife-beater comes off next.

  The air cracks between us.

  We’ve both been denying ourselves the dirty fuck we need with her father sleeping below us.

  I’ve loved her long and slow deep into the night, but now we need to get back to basics. A nice, hard reminder she’s mine.

  Slowly I stalk her. I’m a panther; she’s my prey.

  “You’ve been a bad girl Shanna.”

  “So, punish me.” She taunts.

  “Oh, I intend to sugar.”

  Muffled voices come from the other side of the door, moving away from them I draw closer to my angel in the dark.

  “You ready for me baby?”

  She answers by turning around and placing her hands on the wall. Feet planted wide, ass sticking out, she invites me.

  I stop short, admiring her full, round cheeks. I shake my head, “Cherry. You’re wearing a cherry red thong?” My fingers trace the thin strap of fabric between her ass cheeks appreciatively. I let my index finger slip in, lightly edging between.

  She shivers.

  My palms cup her fully as I knead and massage her.

  My dick pulses, leaking with the seed of life.

  I move closer, pressing myself against her back, take her double D’s in the palm of my hands, cupping them firmly, stroking the pad of my thumb across her nipples.

  She gyrates against me to the rhythm of the music beating outside. Grinding my hips against her, I push her hair to the side and kiss my way down her neck. She sighs, leaning all her weight back.

  Just as she relaxes, I make my move pushing her forward and ripping the skimpy lace fabric right off her and holding it to my nose. My nostrils flare, catching the scent of my woman, I lower the silky fabric to my cock pumping into it a few times.

  “Holy shit. That’s hot.”

  She’s watching me pleasure myself. Face in shadows, her hands lower onto mine. My hips pump a few more times before easing up, letting her take over.

  She unwraps the silk from my cock, gently brushing it against me then sliding it up and down my length.

  The muscles in my thighs contract, my balls are full and aching. She stripped down to her thong before I ripped it the fuck off her, leaving her only in wedged heels. She turns around, gripping the wall, ass jutting out, head low, she waits for my sweet invasion.

  In a move that makes her gasp, I haul her around by the waist, surging in deep while pushing her back against the wall. Her legs wrap me by the waist. My palms hold her ass as my dick goes long and deep, in and out. Her heels dig into my clenched ass, urging me to ride her harder.

  I oblige.

  Gripping her tight, I rear back like a primitive male in the wild populating his herd. It’s a fast, furious fucking that has her screaming her pleasure as my mushroom tip beats her G-spot savagely over and over.

  The vibration from the instruments move through the wall, thrumming through my body down to my dick.

  “Oh, God. You feel that, too?” She shudders feeling that deep bass vibrate through the wall straight to her clit.

  My response a grunt, I nip her neck, pushing her harder against the wall fucking her to the beat of the band blaring on the other side.

  “I love you,” she pants, biting my shoulder.

  “Not as much as I love you.” I rasp, surging in one last time. Shuddering, I hold still, unloading my seed in waves of ecstasy. Eyes closed, groaning, my hips continue to rock; my cock can’t get enough. She feels so good.

  Feeling her gaze on me, my eyes open. “What? Was I too rough?”

  “No. I love watching you come. Your “O” face is so hot. Your brow furrows, the skin on your cheeks get tight, and you bite your lip while jerking into me; then I feel you spurting inside.”

  “Fuck. I’m getting hard again.” I slip out, turning her around. With her hair wrapped around one wrist, my other hand slaps her ass before I use it to guide myself back in. I stop myself from coming at least five times, wanting to make it last. My gut telling me our fight’s not over yet. She moans, tits bouncing to the beat of my cock; the band plays on, drowning our shouts when we come, collapsing on the floor in a tangle of sweat and ecstasy.

  THE HOUSE LOSES its life when she’s not in it. Colin and I are two old angry grizzly bears, circling one another. She’s the one keeping peace. When she’s gone—we go back to murderous glares.

  Like father, like son. I can’t stand him but for different reasons than my father had.

  I hate him for making her unable to leave. It’s irrational since no one would wish this on themselves.

  We were so close. I was so close to having her all to myself—getting what I wanted from the second, I first saw her.

  As much as she fills me up; I’m restless. All the renovations are done. I need to get back to my life in California.

  She thinks she needs to stay here.

  With a heavy heart, I pack up my shit and wait for my girl to come home.

  I wait for her out on the porch. My heart skips a beat when that piece of shit car she’s driving rambles down the drive.

  With her bag slung over one shoulder, she climbs out with her head ducked low, not looking me in the eye.

  Picking up two helmets, I hand one to her as she climbs the steps. “Five minutes. You have five minutes to unpack your shit. Then we ride,” I tell her gruffly irritated that I can’t fix the situation. We’ll just have to go back to being long-distance. I’ll come up on the weekends as much as I can.

  She nods walking past.

  I slap my helmet on angrily, then start up the bike, revving the engine like a madman.

  I might resemble the devil with my dark looks, but I’m scared like a child under the bed, terrified at how quickly our future’s disappearing right in front of my eyes.

  The front door opens and slams behind her. Her hair’s loose, falling to her waist, jeans hugging her hips. The straps of her bra tangle with her tank. She’s the wildcat I always knew she was. Strapping the helmet under her chin, she climbs on back, placing her arms around me. Her bright red nails scrape against my tight T-shirt.

  Kicking off hard, I shift gears, tearing out, as if I was stealing her away; taking her to someplace we’d never have to return from.

  Figuring my girl’s starving, I stop at the only decent restaurant in town. It’s a steak and burger joint, but the food is fresh.

  “Come on. I know you're hungry.” I take her hand leading her inside.

  She sits across from me rubbing her temples with closed eyes.

  I place my hand on top of hers, “… you can’t keep this up. Tending bar, waitressing, school, and nursing your father.”

  She instantly straightens up, “I’m fine.

  “You’re not.”

  “I graduate in two weeks. I’ll make it to then.”

  “And what after?” I ask with my eyebrow raised.

  “You wanna do this now? Here?” She raises an eyebrow back.

  “Do what? Plan our future. Hell, yeah. I want to talk about that.”

  Ignoring me, she stares at the menu in front of her. Without looking up, she whispers, “We don’t have one anymore.”

  I sit back stunned, as if she had slapped me. “How can you say that? I’ve fought like hell to make this work.”

  “I know you have. But I can’t expect you to stay, and I can’t go.”

  “So? It’s only a four-hour drive. I’ll go back and forth until we figure this out.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out. It’s over.”

  Hissing through my teeth, I bite out, “No. I’m not letting you be his martyr anymore.”

  “Not your choice, Duke. It’s mine.”

  “Fuck no.”

  “He’s all I have left. He sacrificed so much to raise me.”

  “Bullshit. You’re seeing things diffe
rent ‘cause he’s sick.”

  She slaps her palms on the table walking out.

  “Son of a bitch,” I mutter fast on her heels.

  She walks past my bike across the street, into the thick woods down an old logging road. I follow behind until she stops on a fallen log by a stream. She’s fighting hard not to cry. Kneeling on the ground in front of her, I cup her face with my hands, eyes begging her not to do this.

  “I’d walk through hell for you. Please don’t break my heart baby girl.”

  She closes her eyes, rubbing her cheeks against my palm. “I know you would. That’s why this has to end. You’d give up everything for me—I can’t let you. I decided not to keep my mother’s apartment. I donated all her furniture. It’s done. I’m staying here after graduation to look after Pops. I’ll run Stan’s, just like I always have.”

  “That’s what you want? You’re giving up on your dream so easily it makes me wonder how badly you actually wanted it.”

  “Fuck off! You don’t know how much this is killing me,” she yells, running down the road.

  “I do. Because you’re fuckin’ killin’ me!” I roar chasing after her, all the light in my heart goes dark. All the happiness is sucked from my soul with every step she takes running away from me.

  Grabbing her round the waist, I pull her back against me. We’re both out of breath, frustrated and afraid.

  “Don’t do this. Choose me, Shanna. JUST. CHOOSE. ME. I can afford to hire someone to look after him.”

  “I can’t.” She shakes her head. I turn her around fusing our lips together. She kisses me desperately. I kiss her back so hungrily our teeth scrape together. Biting, licking, sucking, we feast on one another. Picking her up, I hook her legs around my waist and walk her back against a tree. Unzipping my pants, I free myself, shove her shorts down and ram in.

  My thrusts are desperate, I pound into her like the devil and take my pleasure. Palms full of her plump ass, hips jerking wildly, I lose my goddamn mind at the thought she’s taking herself away from me. The sound of my balls slapping against her skin echoes in the woods around us. She moves, riding my cock as I beat it into her. She’s so slick, I fall out a few times before finding my way back in.

  “Don’t come in me,” she pants.

  But it’s too late. My balls draw up fast; my body quakes with the force of my release. I empty myself in her, holding her tight until there’s nothing left of my body to give hers. She’s angry, probably forgot to take a pill or something.

  “I didn’t want the risk of you planting a baby in me.”

  “Never bothered you before.”

  She shrugs, “It does now.”

  Hurt and angry by her rejection, I turn walking away. She just wounded me worse than the explosion in Iraq did.

  We don’t speak on the ride back.

  “So be it,” I finally bite out after parking the bike in front of the garage.

  Walking past her into the house, I grab my duffel bag. Flipping Colin the bird—I march out brushing past her without a backward glance. I have my pride, and she has hers. But it’s hers that ends us.

  Strapping my duffel to the back of my bike, I shove my helmet on. Her sobs mix with the roar of my engine as I pull out of the drive.

  So, we end the way we began—both of us angry and torn apart.

  SQUEEZING MY EYES SHUT, I try to stop seeing him. It’s impossible. His image is always turned on in my head.

  I think I’ve only been able to survive without completely falling apart because so much of us was long-distance anyway.

  He’s gone back to haunting my dreams. Holding me close. I wake up with my own arms wrapped around me.

  I graduated last Saturday.

  It was a beautiful early summer day. I felt his eyes on me when my name was called and I walked across the stage. As I stepped off, the roar of his bike was heard above the applause from the crowd. It was easy to hide my tears with a pair of sunglasses on.

  I know I hurt him badly. But there wasn’t any other choice. Pops needs me; I won’t abandon him. He kept me safe, and although he wasn’t the most clean-cut parent, I always felt loved. He made every birthday and Christmas special for me when I was a child. He never laid one hand on me in anger or rage. You can’t choose your parents, but you can choose the kind of daughter you want to be.

  Pops still struggles to speak, so he communicates by writing on a dry erase board I bought him. He’s been binging on Netflix and junk food. When I was cleaning up yesterday, I found his stash of Whiskey. I’m afraid to confront him about it. Truthfully, every time I come home I hesitate to open the door—terrified I’m gonna find him slumped over with a gunshot wound to the head. I’ve looked everywhere for his handgun, but haven’t found it yet.

  This is no way for a man like him to live.

  Pulling into the drive, my hands clench the wheel seeing the downstairs lights all on.

  Maybe he did it.

  Usually, when I come home this late after closing the bar, he’s asleep.

  Slowly unlocking the door, my head peeks inside. He’s asleep on the couch with the TV on.

  Pulling an old afghan over him, I shut everything off and go upstairs.

  I can barely sleep in the room where Duke’s scent still lingers. He left a few shirts behind. I couldn’t bring myself to wash them. I sleep in one while holding the other to my nose.

  What did I do?

  But every time I go over it in my head. I come to the same conclusion. Letting him go was the only answer.

  On heavy feet, I walk to the bathroom and turn the shower on wishing it was as easy to wipe off the heartache as it is to wash off beer and sweat.

  Barely drying off, my hands lovingly touch his shirt before pulling it over my naked body. Alone in my room, I allow myself to cry for the dreams that I had for so long that’ll never be and for the man whose children I saw myself having.

  Padding back to my room, my eyes fall to the postcard of LA I’ve had in a frame for years. It was a reminder when the days were hard, that I had a plan, an escape to endless sunny days. Picking up the picture I open my drawer placing it inside. I take the screwdriver out though and pop open the floorboard. Taking my money out I toss it on the dresser. It’s going in my checking account first thing in the morning. Pops has shit insurance. His bill for the ambulance alone was almost a grand. The three-week hospital stay and physical therapy was a fortune. When they handed me his bill when he got discharged, I quickly shoved it in my purse telling Pops it was coming in the mail. I hid in the bathroom, biting my fist to stifle my scream when I saw the numbers. But he’s alive. And that’s all that matters.

  Falling back on the bed, my eyes watch the whirring fan above my head. I fall asleep to the dream Duke’s still here, wrapping his arms around me.

  “Sh-sh-an-na.”

  “Shh. Pops. Don’t try to talk. Use your board.”

  He thumps the arm of the chair in frustration but takes the board from me.

  I took the night off from work. Tuesdays are slow anyway, Tina can handle it, and if for some reason she gets slammed, she knows I’m a phone call away.

  I wheeled him out to the porch, and we ate dinner watching the setting sun. I’ve been able to care for him pretty well, but I did hire a part-time nurse to bathe him. But Pops—had a fit. Got so red in the face at the thought of a man washing him in the sit-in-shower Duke built—I thought he’d have another stroke. So, I let him have his way. He’s slow as shit but manages himself. The deal we made is that he only showers when I’m home.

  He’s writing a goddamn novel. I lean back against the pillar, licking the gelato I made off the spoon. I needed something to keep me busy during the day, so I started watching the damn cooking channel thinking Pops could eat better.

  He finally hands me the board.

  This is no life for you either baby girl.

  Go. Go to LA. My best years are behind me. Don’ t waste away here with me.

  I love you so goddamn much. Too m
uch to want this for you.

  When I look up, he has tears in his eyes. They pool before falling down his rugged, wrinkled, old face. A face I’ll never forget.

  “No. Get this out of your head. I’m staying. I love it here stupid. Besides, who would run the bar? Meat? He’d drink us out of business. Don’t do anything stupid either. I want you to give me your gun. Now. If I come home one day to find you gone—I’ll drag you outside for the birds.”

  He hesitates, still crying but slowly reaches into his waistband and pulls out the gun.

  “I knew you thought about it.”

  He nods his head.

  Taking the gun, I unload the clip and walk inside knowing the perfect spot for it, in my room, where my bag of money used to hide.

  “Come on, time to go in. We have another season of The Walking Dead to watch.”

  Wheeling him inside, I kiss the top of his head, “I love you, dad. There’s nowhere else I’d want to be.”

  Well… besides in a house on the cliffs of Malibu, riding my man in the moonlight. With a sigh, I help him sit on the couch and go to the kitchen for a second helping of gelato.

  I WATCH HER FROM the shadows, eyes drinking in the very sight of her. In the pitch-black night, my angel shines like the sun. She slowly walks to her car. I’m surprised when she stops before getting in. She turns looking back at the house. Even from my hiding spot across the road, it’s easy to see the pain and fatigue marring her beautiful face. She bends at the waist then clutches her sides as she straightens, swiping a tear before standing tall and proud. With her armor back in place, she gets in the car and puts it in drive.

  She’s more burdened by this life than she ever was. Saddled with a crippled father to take care of, burdened by the debt he racked up over the years. But she doesn’t say a word about it to anyone. Meat’s keeping tabs on her just like he always has.