Chaos: A Bad Boy Romance

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Chaos: A Bad Boy Romance Page 5

by Miranda Bee


  “My new address,” I said.

  “Thanks. Which reminds me, I’ll need to come by at the end of this week for an inspection.”

  “Okay, say 8 o’clock?” I grinned.

  She rubbed her temples and laughed, “Try five o’clock, Casanova.”

  I winked at her. She blushed again. I loved it. Every moment in that office was absolutely exhilarating. I felt the heat of lust lick at my cheeks. I wondered if she noticed.

  “Alright, well, stay out of trouble, and we’ll see you Friday,” she said.

  “It’s a date then.”

  “No, it’s not,” she called out as I left.

  I poked my head back in the door and wiggled my eyebrows, “So, is that three?”

  “Leave now,” she said, flatly.

  I spent the next few days ‘laying low’. I bought groceries, reorganized the furniture, and spent some time working out. I was distracted the entire time. My mind kept wandering back to Officer Wood. Sammy was such a beautiful woman. Her body, her dark green eyes, her plump red lips were burned into my mind. I was excited for Friday.

  I spent my mornings in a blistering hot shower with her face in my head. I remembered the curve of her breasts in that tight little top she wore at our meeting. Her colleague said she was all ‘dolled up’. I was either so cocky that I was delusional, or she had dressed up for me. She knew who I was. She had my file. I was starting to think my ball-busting parole officer had a thing for me.

  I imagined what her tits looked like free of that tight little top. That was all it took. I fantasized about the image of her soft, milky-white tits and that tenacious smile, and I was hard as a rock. I closed my fingers around the base of my cock, and slid my hand up and down, from base to tip. Sammy was my dream girl.

  I had a new vice. This couldn’t possibly end well. Shit.

  I almost completely forgot about the growing fear that one of my brothers or sisters were possibly betraying the club. I didn’t like to think about it, but I had a feeling that Mathias was wrong. Everything was all too convenient.

  About mid-way through the week, I attended a mandatory meeting at the clubhouse. Nothing significant had happened over the week. Mathias and a few others were organizing a route for some of the goods we got last month. The Sons ripped off a few gun shops and confiscated the arsenal of a smaller club. It was another one of those out-of-control clubs that we had to disband. At this point, The Sons had a fantastic inventory. We chiseled off the serial numbers on all of the guns. They were close to being ready for transport.

  Mathias informed us that we had a buyer. There was a bike convention in a little over a month. We would meet our contact there. We still had to be careful, though. We needed to be discreet because the place would be swarming with cops just waiting for an excuse.

  “It would also be the perfect guise,” he said, “Nobody would ever expect that we’d do a big deal like this, in front of God and country. Our buyers will already be there, ready to load the guns. It’s perfect.”

  ***

  Eventually, Friday had arrived. I spent the late morning at the grocery store picking out each item carefully. A loaf of Pane Siciliano, ripe tomatoes, spices, red wine, and thick spaghetti noodles. For dessert, I planned to make homemade brownies topped with vanilla bean ice cream.

  When I got home, I showered quickly. I threw on a pair of old jeans and a black tank top.

  I knew she said it wasn’t a date, so, all of this was a gamble. It was kind of fun. I never had to worry about other women. I never had to ‘work’ for anything, in that regard. Sammy Wood was a challenging woman. I didn’t know if I could actually win her over, but goddamn it, I had to try.

  Chapter 7

  Sammy Wood

  I wasn’t sure how long I had sat there, staring at the clock. It moved slower than usual. Still, I wasn’t paying attention to the time that had passed but rather the way the long hand scooted so much faster than the shorthand. The seconds were quick jars of movement around the circle, systematic and reliable.

  It bothered me. Everything bothered me, lately. The doctor had warned me that I might be more irritable.

  It’s not like he had his way with me. Devin saved me from that. The police were certain Devin had inadvertently scared him away. Charlie was on the run. That’s what everyone in the office was talking about. Of course, not when I was around. They learned how to shut the conversation down if I entered the room.

  Still, it was no comfort that as soon as I walked into a room, everyone stopped talking. It made it worse. I knew what they were talking about, and I knew why they suddenly got quiet. I hated it.

  I went back to watching the clock.

  MaryAnn interrupted my zoned-out trance with two mugs of coffee and a bagel. It was for her, not me. I wasn’t eating much lately. She, bless her heart, had no qualms with bringing up uncomfortable subjects. I knew by the grin on her face, the uncomfortable subject was Devin, not Charlie.

  “Are you, uh, you wearing that?”

  She looked at my outfit and sneered. I was wearing slacks and a button up shirt. I looked at myself and shrugged.

  “What happened to Foxy Sammy, from the other day?”

  “I’m telling you, I didn’t dress up for him that day,” I argued.

  She snorted and sat down in the chair across from me, “Yeah, okay.”

  “I just needed to feel pretty,” I shrugged.

  “Can I tell you the truth, as a friend?”

  I nodded.

  “You are a terrible liar,” she grinned, “You want that guy in your pants.”

  “This word may sound foreign to you: Ethics. Have you heard of them? I have.”

  “Oh, fuck off with that. Jesus, that man looks like a fucking Viking. Oh, he’s so hot. Damn.”

  “Are you seriously telling me to jeopardize my career for a little sex?”

  “Yes, Sammy. For that guy? Absolutely! Get laid, to hell with the rules. I might be making some assumptions, but I’m betting that he’s the sort of man who ‘won’t tell if you don’t’.”

  She winked.

  I shook my head and sighed, “Well, either way, I don’t have time for that kind of thing.”

  “Oh, you mean, you’re too busy hiding in your apartment. And I don’t mean from Charlie. I know that little fucker will be lucky if the cops catch him first. I mean hiding from, you know, reality. That’s kind of your schtick.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She rolled her eyes and leaned forward, “I have been trying, for years, to get you to open up to me. I don’t know why, but I just knew we’d get on really well. I’m glad you did, too. You push everyone away. I can read you like a book, girl. Reality is too disorganized for your taste, but Sammy…”

  I looked down at my lap, embarrassed, “But what?”

  “It’s so much fun!”

  “I wish I shared your perspective.”

  We finished our coffee. We talked about Charlie for a bit. I was afraid, but I had somehow convinced MaryAnn that I wasn’t. I was, though. I carried my gun with me everywhere I went. At home, I pushed chairs against the doors and installed iron bars over my windows. I couldn’t stop checking and re-checking the backseat of my car to make sure he wasn’t hiding there.

  I needed to find a way to overcome the anxiety that plagued me because I was starting to feel imprisoned by it.

  I was looking forward to seeing Devin tonight. It would be a welcomed distraction from the fear. I wasn’t going to ‘dress up’ again, though. I lacked subtlety, obviously, and I didn’t want to lead Devin on. I simply wanted to look at his body, so that I could indulge in some midnight fantasies with Herb. That was it.

  I was a rule follower. I wasn’t a risk taker. This was the cloth that I was cut from.

  ***

  I was about ten minutes late getting to Devin’s house for the inspection. Why? I couldn’t get the wing of my eyeliner the way I wanted it. I eventually got it right, though the damage was done. I was
late, and I felt like an idiot.

  Of course, I got dressed up. I wore a skin-tight, charcoal-black pencil skirt, a sheer top, and simple black pumps. Since I was being honest, I left work early to buy them. MaryAnn shook her head as I left, knowing it had nothing to do with my recent traumatic ordeal. No. It had everything to do with what was, essentially, my fucked-up version of a date.

  I knocked on his door, nervously.

  “Shame, shame,” he said, tapping his watch as he opened the door.

  Inside, he took my coat and hung it up. He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me through the foyer. The sensation of his wide hand, dangerously close to my ass, made my heart stop. It was like I was punched in the gut, and I couldn’t breathe. I swallowed hard and attempted to tell him to move his hand, but the words wouldn’t leave my mouth.

  “Expecting someone?” I asked, smelling the aroma of the Italian seasonings.

  “Just you,” he smiled, mischievously.

  “Devin…” I warned.

  “No, no. I have a date,” he said.

  I proceeded with my inspection, checking each room for items Devin was prohibited from keeping. His loft apartment was well kept. He was the sort of man who kept his bed made, his floors clean, and his kitchen spotless. I didn’t see any guns, drugs, or the like. Although, admittedly, I was distracted. Devin followed me around wearing a tight pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt. His biceps stretched the hem of his t-shirt’s sleeves to their capacity. I couldn’t stop looking at the way his muscles shifted under the thin cotton when I asked him to lift the corner of his mattress. Or when I asked him to move the couch back away from the wall. Damn.

  ***

  “So, you must be hungry after all that inspecting.”

  “No,” I reached for my coat, “besides, I don’t think your date would like me eating her food.”

  “I don’t have a date,” he said.

  “So, you lied to your parole officer?”

  “You caught me,” a wild smile cracked across his face, “Punish me?”

  I sighed, “Oh, boy. You are not going to make this easy on me, are you?”

  “What’s hard? Sit down with me and have a meal. It’s simple.”

  “It’s wildly inappropriate.”

  “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  I laughed. MaryAnn had a talent for reading people.

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Okay, okay. I get it. It is inappropriate. I’m not exactly a gentleman, either,” he paused, “I like you. I think you might like me. I have a feeling this is a unique position for both of us. So, I have a compromise. Let’s just have dinner as parole officer and parolee. You can’t deny that getting to know me better will help you in managing my case. Right?”

  I smiled. I liked his persistence, and he did make a good case. Besides, I didn’t really want to go home.

  “Okay. I’ll stay. Only twenty minutes, though.”

  “All right, twenty minutes.”

  ***

  Three hours and two glasses of wine later, I was feeling pretty good. Devin was a lot more than a criminal with a scorching hot body. He was also charming, funny, and a great listener. We talked about everything. He told me about his mom, whom he loved tremendously. He was very protective of her. That led to a short conversation about his dad, a cruel man with an unquenchable thirst for alcohol. I could kind of see myself in him, in some ways. Only, I despised both of my parents.

  We briefly talked about his association with The Sons of the Shadow. He was holding back, which was understandable. I was his parole officer, after all. He viewed the club as a loyal family and community.

  He asked me about the assault, too. Maybe it was the wine, but I did not hold back. I told him about the texts Charlie had sent me. I even read him a few. I thanked him, again, for scaring him away. He was very bothered by Charlie. When I confessed how frightened I was, a fierce protectiveness lit up his eyes. It was the same look he had while talking about his mom.

  “I mean, I know I could fuck him up,” I said, “but a part of me thinks maybe I can’t. What if I can’t defend myself?”

  “Yeah, well, I want to know more about this Charlie character. Do you have a picture?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’d like to meet him,” he said, through gritted teeth.

  “If you can find him…”

  “Hiding like a little bitch. Figures,” he growled.

  I watched his hands curl into fists. His knuckles turned white. His bright blue eyes were overshadowed by a boiling rage. Suddenly, Devin was the personification of violence. I wasn’t afraid, though. I was fucking turned on. I crossed my legs under the table. I squeezed my thighs together. I was so wet. My cheeks flushed bright red.

  Devin was a beast of a man. His passionate anger was stirred by the ‘little bitch’ who’d hurt me. I smiled at the thought of Charlie crumbling under his fists. It was nothing but a fantasy, though. If it came down to it, I would want Devin to leave Charlie to me.

  I was scared, yes. I wasn’t weak, though. The scorn I held for Charlie was equally fearsome to Devin’s rage.

  “Anyway, I should probably get going.”

  He sighed, “The night is young. You don’t have to go.”

  He stood up and walked around the table, sitting in the chair right next to mine. He leaned back, folding his hands behind his head.

  “We could keep talking,” he grinned and winked, “’Course, we could also not talk.”

  He brought his arms down and folded his hands in his lap. This cute little smile lit up his face when he looked at me.

  “You drive a hard bargain, but we’ve already violated, like, a million protocols.”

  He laughed, “Oh, no, I haven’t. You have. I’m on the straight and narrow.”

  I slugged him in the arm and was met with effortless resistance. His eyes narrowed on my small fist. He rolled his eyes, subduing a smile.

  “What?” I asked.

  He rolled his eyes again, only more exaggerated this time.

  “I get it, you’re a big, tough biker. Don’t you have any weaknesses?”

  “I didn’t,” his voice trailed off.

  I looked down at my lap, embarrassed. My cheeks were likely bright red at that point.

  “Devin, we should stop,” I began.

  “Wait, did you,” he paused, “You thought I meant you? No, my weaknesses are those daytime court shows. I got hooked in prison. It’s just awful, really.”

  “That’s pretty bad,” I laughed.

  “There aren’t any twelve-step programs out there for me.”

  I shook my head, “A travesty.”

  He stood up from the chair, offering me his hand. I slid my hand into his, and alarms fired off throughout my body. I was treading dangerous water. I wanted to fucking rip his clothes off. I was so close to giving in. I wanted to stay with him, forever. His hand was big, rough, and strong. He could do some damage with those long fingers.

  “I lied to you,” he said, “I can be a gentleman. I hope you have a wonderful evening. I know mine has been.”

  My heart sank as I stood up. I wanted him to press the issue, just once more. I wanted an excuse to give in. I wanted Devin Winchester more than I’d ever wanted any man before.

  “Thank you. It was fun,” I said.

  He walked me to the front door and paused. I looked up at him with pleading eyes. My heart raced, waiting for him to make his move. Finally, he leaned down and kissed my cheek. Before pulling back, he whispered, “Call me if you have any problems with this Charlie guy. I will be there in under two minutes. I swear to fucking god.”

  Feeling his lips brush my ear sent shivers down my spine. Jesus, this night was going to be a long one. I knew there was no organic way to keep the night going.

  I smiled and said, “Good night, Devin.”

  ***

  At home, I was in such a daze that I automatically put a frozen dinner in the microwave. I
leaned against the counter going over every single moment the night entailed. I’d see him again, the following week. I wasn’t sure that I would be able to control myself next time. I nearly lost control tonight.

  It wasn’t until the microwave timer went off that I realized that I had made myself dinner on autopilot. I wasn’t even hungry. I threw the dinner in the trash and walked to the bathroom. I took a hot shower and let the steam swallow me whole. I was determined to stop thinking about Devin, once the hot water ran out. When it was over, I’d shake him off and move on.

  Of course, it was a lie. My entire night was spent wrestling with my sheets and my thoughts. I tried to fall asleep, but it wasn’t happening. I was in trouble.

  Chapter 8

  Devin “The Devil” Winchester

  I texted Sammy three days after our ‘inspection’. I wanted to text her sooner, but I resisted. I didn’t want to push her. I couldn’t wait any longer, though. This woman was breaking my brain. She was so fucking sexy. She had the most stunning almond shaped eyes, bright green and full of light. They were especially bright whenever she smiled.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the way her body moved when she walked. She had this thick ass that swayed subtly with each step. The image of her pulling her hair back into a pony while her large tits heaved upward kept replaying in my mind. I wanted to see more. I’d only just tasted what it was like to be around Sammy, and yet, I was starving for more. I was desperate. The inspection was merely an icebreaking, and it ended far too soon.

  It wasn’t a fucking inspection. She was checking out my ass the entire time. She wanted my dick.

  Okay. That was crass.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to a girl like her. I was a cocky bastard, she was checking out my ass while I showed her around the apartment. Still, there was more to it than just sexual tension. We got along. The hours passed that night in effortless conversation.

 

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