Stronger Than This

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Stronger Than This Page 1

by Abby Mccarthy




  Copyright © 2018 by Abby McCarthy

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in the book review.

  Cover design by Hang Le

  http://www.byhangle.com

  Editing by Nicole Reid

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Stronger Than This

  A Devil's Crusader’s MC

  Dedication

  Prologue | Marie

  Chapter One | Marie Past

  Chapter Two | Marie

  Chapter Three | Marie

  Chapter Four | Mickey Past

  Chapter Five | Marie Present

  Chapter Six | Marie

  Chapter Seven | Marie

  Chapter Eight | Marie

  Chapter Nine | Marie

  Chapter Ten | Marie

  Chapter Eleven | Mickey

  Chapter Twelve | Marie

  Chapter Thirteen | Mickey

  Chapter Fourteen | Marie

  Chapter Fifteen | Marie

  Chapter Sixteen | Mickey

  Chapter Seventeen | Marie

  Chapter Eighteen | Mickey

  Chapter Nineteen | Marie

  Chapter Twenty | Mickey

  Chapter Twenty-One | Marie

  Chapter Twenty-Two | Mickey | Hours Earlier

  Chapter Twenty-Three | Marie

  Chapter Twenty-Four | Mickey

  Chapter Twenty-Five | Marie

  Chapter Twenty-Six | Marie

  Chapter Twenty-Seven | Mickey

  Chapter Twenty-Eight | Marie

  The End

  A special bonus | Check out Hurt You | A stand alone novel in The Wrecked Series featuring MICKEY!!!

  Chapter 1

  A Devil's Crusader’s MC

  ABBY McCARTHY

  Dedication

  For Louisa

  Your encouragement, friendship, and strength are invaluable

  MY TRIBE

  Note to the reader

  This book can be read as a stand-alone. Mickey is in all of the books in The Wrecked Series, however you do not need to read those in order to read this book. In fact, all of the books in The Wrecked Series can be read as stand-alones. I wanted to keep this one separate from that series as I felt all of the characters in The Wrecked Series, Maura, Daws and Jenny, all were interconnected, and although Mickey is Maura’s dad, I absolutely feel like this is separate.

  Mickey is from Ireland. Often times, his Irish dialect comes out and he says ‘ye’ instead of you or ‘dere’ instead of there. I realize that this isn’t always the easiest thing for a reader to digest, so I don’t do it all of the time and I don’t always do it while you are in his thoughts. I feel like if you’re always reading the dialect, it could become trying. There are times when Mickey says ‘you’ and that is also purposefully done as I picture him enunciating it when he says it.

  Prologue

  Marie

  “Marie?”

  Who was this man staring at me? Who was Marie? Was it me? He was looking at me like he knew me. He was attractive. Salt and pepper hair at his temples, a small beard, a dimple in his left cheek. His eyes – those eyes looked so sad. They were red-rimmed as if he’d been crying. That made no sense. How could he be crying? He didn’t seem like the type of man who would cry. No, based off of the motorcycle vest he wore, he appeared rugged as if he belonged on a motorcycle.

  My hand was in his, and he was stroking it back and forth. Why was he touching me? I didn’t know him. I swiftly moved my hand away jerking it from his grasp. He looked startled.

  I looked around. Where was I? I didn't know this place. There were white walls, a window, a door, a machine next to me beeped. A hospital? I looked down at my hand the man was holding and saw an IV in it. What was going on? I was scared.

  I tried to use my voice, and a scratchy chirp came out. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Who are you?”

  He sucked in a breath, “It’s me love, Mickey.” His eyes begged me to know him, but I didn’t. I had no clue who he was. That scared me even more.

  “I... I don’t know you.” I stumbled over my words and watched as Mickey grabbed his chest like I’d struck him. My chest felt tight and began to rise and fall rapidly.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him, hating the new look on his face but feeling incredibly afraid. I gulped in huge lungfuls of air; my fear felt like it was suffocating me.

  “Breathe, Marie. I’m here. Everything is going to be alright. We’ll figure this out. Breathe, love. Breathe.

  Chapter One

  Marie Past

  “Heads up, Marie! Group of bikers just pulled up.” Randy blew out a large puff of smoke, then twisting the cigarette with a roll of his fingers and extinguished the tiny red flame into the crystal ashtray. The bar smelled of stale cigarettes, booze, and must. Isaac and Jenkins, two of our regulars who were here from open to close, sat at one end of the bar.

  “Not deaf, Randy.” I mean, really, everyone could hear the sound of motorcycle pipes. I worked at a rundown bar off Route 55. Even though it was a State Route, we didn’t get much traffic, not since the new extension of the highway was put in. At least that’s what I was told, considering I only landed myself here a little over a year ago.

  The screen door opened, bringing in a wave of warm air. I counted the bikers as they walked in, taking seats at the bar and a few tables. One, two, three... ten... twelve... sixteen. I hoped like hell they were good tippers. We hadn’t had a crowd in here in some time, and my rent was due like three weeks ago.

  They looked like your typical bikers. A few of them were older with long beards and big guts. A few seemed aged, like they might be in their thirties, but the road and the life made them look much older. My eye caught sight of one of them. He had dark hair, clipped low. His jaw was angular. He moved his sunglasses from his eyes to the top of his head. His eyes were dark, and they immediately settled on me.

  “What are you having?” I asked and with him standing in front of me, I could really see how tall he was. I was five-three, and he had about a foot on me.

  “Whiskey, neat.” His voice was rough, deep and husky.

  “Sure thing. Any particular kind of whiskey?” I took out a small rocks glass.

  “You pick.” I gave him a quick look, assessing him one more time before grabbing a bottle. I could have chosen the most expensive, but that wasn’t right, or I could’ve chosen the cheapest. No, I thought, a good whiskey, but middle of the road for this guy. I picked Four Roses. It wasn’t as well-known, but it was smooth.

  I poured and noticed him watching me. I slid the glass across the bar, all while he didn't take his eyes from me. He took a sip and smiled. His smile felt reserved like not many received it. I liked it.

  “Hey, down here! Need two High Lifes,” a man a few stools down called out, trying to take my attention away from the man in front of me.

  Without turning his head to look at the man, he said, “She’s busy. Wait.”

  The man looked nervous. I saw a patch on the side of his vest that read Prospect, and he immediately took a few steps away from the bar. I liked how Whiskey Neat’s presence screamed authority.

  “Man’s got no patience. A pretty woman like you should be admired. Sort of like this whiskey. It’s smooth, sweet, but powerful.” The way he described
the whiskey made me blush. I hated when I did that. With my red locks and fair skin, I looked like a turnip. I looked away and bit my lip. He grabbed my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted my head up towards him. I was freaking putty, and I had no clue why. I’d never been one to let a man take such control over me. “Name’s Drake, darlin’. What’s your name?”

  “Mm... Marie?” What the hell was I doing saying my name with such uncertainty? “Marie,” I said again more fiercely.

  “Marie,” he tested my name on his tongue. I stared at him, into his dark unreadable eyes, searching for an answer as to what kind of man he was. He was unbelievably handsome. The more I stared at him, the more I felt like this moment was going to change my life. I took a step back, and he dropped his hand from my face. I liked the intensity; it made me feel like it was somehow wrong, and I should look away. I diverted my attention, too intimidated by his presence to keep up with him.

  Randy looked like he needed a hand, and as much as I was enjoying Drake’s attention, I had a crappy trailer’s rent to pay. Randy brushed past me, and I gave Drake one last glance before I said, “I better help him. It was nice to meet you, Drake.”

  “I’ll be here for a while. You come back soon.” I nodded and quickly took the next slew of orders until all the men seem to be drinking and had fresh beers. I sauntered past Drake.

  “You need a refill?” He gave me a nod of his head. As I poured he asked, “You got a man? Not that it’d stop me. Just need to know what I’m up against.”

  Heat flooded my body, and I couldn't help it, but I felt incredibly turned on. “No, not a whole lot to choose from in these parts.” I poured more whiskey into his glass and took a bill from his stack of change. It was left sitting out from the last round he’d bought.

  “Good.” He sipped his whiskey, watching me intently. The way he watched me felt special. It felt like I was lucky. It was clear from the way his friends reacted to him that he had power among them, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to that. There was a sexiness to the way he seemed to demand respect by his mere presence. The night went by fast. I felt Drake’s eyes on me the entire time I worked. He made his intentions clear and I didn’t deny him when he told me he’d wait for me outside to close up. It just was what it was.

  Outside, the air was warm, and beads of sweat trickled between my breasts. The tank top and short shorts I was wearing felt like a ton of clothes in the sticky humidity. I didn't have to look for Drake; he was sitting on his bike right outside. My piece of shit Toyota was one of the only cars left in the lot, and half the time it barely ran.

  “That you?” he nodded to my car.

  “Yeah.” I gave him a lift of my chin.

  “We’ll get it later. Get on. The boys are all staying at the motel off the highway. Show me your place.”

  I did exactly as he said. Never once questioning my decision to bring this big biker back to my place. Was it stupid? Sure. But at twenty-two, I didn't care about consequences. I cared about how I felt getting on the back of Drake’s bike. The bike vibrated as it roared to life

  God, the feel of this man's body between my thighs and my breasts pressing against his back made me feel like I was flying. The wind, with nothing but Drake and me was a rush. It was spectacular.

  “Go up to the light, make a right, then down two blocks. It’s the trailer park on the left.” He nodded as if he wasn’t fazed that I lived in a trailer park. Maybe he expected it? We pulled into the rundown park, and I immediately saw that a few parties were taking place. If I were driving and wasn’t with Drake, I might’ve stopped. I motioned with my hand to which trailer was mine. The bike came to a stop, and I noticed that on the door was another late notice. I snatched it up, hoping he didn't see it, and unlocked the door.

  My trailer wasn't much. A bed was in the back room. A small table was next to the kitchen sink. A blue recliner sat against the far wall, and a love seat Jenkins had given me was against the other wall. I had a small TV with a rabbit ear antenna tucked into the built-in shelf. I tried to make it cozy with a couple of cute throws and pillows, but who was I kidding? It was a dump.

  “It’s nothing fancy.” I was suddenly nervous. by his massive frame that seemed to take up my entire space.

  “Don’t give a fuck about your place, Marie. Been staring at your full tits and that tight little ass all night. Come here.”

  I set my bag down on my kitchen table, and cautiously moved to him. I'd been anticipating how it would be with Drake. I wasn't quite prepared. He pulled me against him; my body felt tiny next to his. My tits brushed against his hard abs. He tipped my chin upwards and dropped his head to take my lips in a hot kiss. It was a little bruising. Hard. Demanding. Just like Drake.

  His hands moved to my ass, and he picked me up. My legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he walked us the few steps into my tiny bedroom. It was maybe a minute of kissing, tops, before he was pulling off my shirt. I’d had lovers, but felt inexperienced compared to Drake. He touched me with confidence. Every stroke of his thumb against my taut nipple made my hips buck into his erection.

  “Patience. I want your pussy just as much as you want my cock, but I want you dripping for me by the time I sink into you.”

  Was he crazy? I was so fucking wet already. I moaned into his lips. He broke away from my kiss, and his tongue swirled around my nipple. I was blind with lust. My hand stroked his cock against his jeans as I suddenly felt his hand, which without my knowledge had unbuttoned my jean shorts, slip inside my panties. His fingers moved against my clit. I bucked my hips again wanting him more than I’d ever wanted any man. Maybe all I’d ever had until this point was boys? His length in his jeans made me feel like I was working with a lot of man, and I mean a lot.

  “You gonna play with it, then you better be prepared to swallow it.”

  Holy shit.

  His finger left my clit, making me insanely greedy. My body was begging for him in every way it could. I watched as he removed his shirt, followed by his boots and jeans. I gulped as I saw his dick spring free. I moved to my knees and crawled to the edge of the bed where to where he had divested his clothes. My tits swayed heavily, as I inched closer. He stood and faced me.

  “Suck.”

  I did.

  On my hands and knees, I took him into my mouth. He took control pushing to the back of my throat. I liked it. He wasn't too rough, but enough so that each time he hit the back of my throat, it made my pussy clench. No, this was nothing at all like the boys I’d been with.

  “Fuck your mouth is sweet, Marie. I knew it would be.” He grunted, then grabbed me under my chin tilting my eyes up to his. I was forced to look him in the eyes as he slid in and out. He went slowly, watching me. I wanted to please him so badly. He popped free from my mouth.

  “Stay on your hand and knees.” Drake kneeled behind me and pulled my jean shorts and panties down locking my knees in place. I could feel him at my entrance for a mere second before he pushed inside.

  “Fuck,” I panted. “Fuck, yes.” He grabbed my hair in a fist, and he rode me. I’d never been fucked like this before. I’d never even come from sex. This fucking was something entirely new. It was hard and raw. There was an untamed madness to it.

  He was fucking me, and it was phenomenal. My body was tightening, and an unfamiliar sensation started to roll through me. He smacked my ass. It stung. Then, he did it again. I was in such a pleasured state of mind that I didn’t even have time to think about the pain.

  “Knew your pretty little ass would look sexy with my handprint. Can't wait to see it with my cum all over it.”

  I was whimpering and that tightening that I felt moments ago began to build again. Drake released my hair and bent over me. Our bodies were slick with sweat. His fingers began to circle my clit.

  “Knew you’d take me how I like it.”

  “How’s that?” I used my voice for the first time in a while, and it sounded sultry.

  “Like I fucking own you.


  I came apart. It was earth-shattering. Mind-blowing. I had no clue it could be like this. His rhythm increased, and he was thrusting so hard, it was on the brink of pain. He pulled out, and warm cum spurted all over my ass.

  “Beautiful,” he declared and collapsed next to me on the bed. I wasn’t sure what to do so I reached over and grabbed my tank top to wipe my ass off. I started to pull up my jean shorts when he said, “Kick ‘em off and grab me my smokes from my jeans.”

  I didn't smoke, but I supposed after the fucking he had just given me, he could smoke in this place if he wanted too.

  “You got any beer in the fridge?”

  “Nope. I got a half carton of milk, or water.”

  “Water’s good.”

  I slid out of my shorts, and did as he told me. I wasn't used to walking around naked. I was a little insecure about it, but then I felt his eyes on me, and it gave me the confidence I needed. I got an empty coke can from the trash, poured a tiny amount of water in it for an ashtray, and then grabbed his glass of water. I set it down next to him on the nightstand and reached into his pocket grabbing his smokes and lighter. I handed him a Camel. He put it in his mouth, and waited for me to light it, which I did without being asked.

  “Come here,” he ordered. I did that too, wrapping my body around him. It felt good. He felt safe, protective.

  “What’s your story, Marie?”

  Well, this was surprising. I didn't expect him to cuddle and talk after everything we just did.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, how old are you? I mean, how’s a pretty little thing like you end up in a shithole like this? I mean, how come you don't have a man? I mean to know you, little one.”

  I leaned on his tattooed covered chest and was taken off guard that he wanted to know me like that.

  “Twenty-two. You?”

  “Thirty-four.” Wow, I didn't guess he was twelve years older than me. I knew he was older, but not by that much.

 

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