Hunter (Black Angels MC Book 1)

by A. E. Fisher

  She held up the pin, and the blue stone glinted up in the light. “He had this made when he was diagnosed. My mom told me he had it made so that, when the day came I was ready to marry a good man, I could wear it as an apology for him not being here. And that I could look at this and know he was looking down at me and smiling on my wedding day.”

  Mallory’s quivering lips pulled into a soft smile as she stepped away from me. She wiped under her eyes with her fingertips and took a deep breath. She then held the pin out toward me. “Do you mind?”

  I took the pin out of her hand and, without breaking her gaze, I pushed one side of her hair behind her ear and slid the pin into place. The azure glinted off the sun and glowed against the bright red of her hair.

  “Beautiful.”

  Mallory’s face transformed with a dazzling smile.

  I thanked her for her heels as I bent down to give her a long, gentle kiss.

  As she broke away, her smile only grew. Her forehead was still pressed against mine as she looked up at me with those beautiful, brown eyes.

  “I love your eyes,” she whispered, cupping my cheek.

  “Hey. You’re not allowed to read my mind if I’m not allowed to read yours.”

  Mallory’s innocent smile turned into a wicked grin. Her voice was breathy as she tightened her fists around my suit collar and pushed her body against mine, whispering, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  “Fuck,” I hissed, pulling away. Then I grabbed her hand and hauled ass across the graveyard and back into the church.

  The bridesmaids turned toward us with relieved smiles, and the men gave me a cheer as we came back into the back room.

  “Let’s hurry up and get this wedding over and fucking done with already,” I snapped, marching my way out of the room and into the church before I turned my ass around, took my woman, and fucked her out back, which was anything but saintly.

  And I did, with Mallory’s laugh following behind me all the way. Just like it would for the rest of my life.

  Epilogue

  Mallory

  Hunter pushed in so hard and fast that I could barely quiet my cry.

  “If you’re not quiet, someone will hear you,” Hunter said into my ear as he drew out and pushed straight back in, forcing me to cover my mouth.

  “Hunter …” I whimpered, feeling him slow inside of me, drawing me nearer to my climax, and then pulling back.

  The thought of someone catching us stirred my libido. Having him tease me was going to drive me mad.

  “What’s this?” Hunter growled, slipping his hand down to my clit where he began rubbing in slow, tormenting circles. “Do you want someone to find us, Mallory? Didn’t take you for the exhibitionist type.”

  “And what happened to a quiet night swim?” I retorted.

  He pressed my back into the cold tiles of the pool’s wall, causing the water to slosh over the side. “We’re in the water, and it’s dark outside. All you need to do is stay quiet.” Hunter punctuated his words with a slow withdrawal, and then a quick thrust.

  I cried out, slapping the edge of the pool to hold myself up as Hunter began to pull back before pushing into me with a force I couldn’t resist. Then he began to quicken.

  Each time he thrust forward, I begged not to cry out. And each time, I found it harder to keep it tamed.

  With Hunter’s teasing, I didn’t know I was drawing nearer until my climax was right on top of me, and I cried out as I went over the edge, pleasure hitting me in waves. Two thrusts later, heat burst through my channel as Hunter followed me over.

  We both panted hard, Hunter holding on to the edge of the pool, bracketing me in and stopping me from sinking under the water. My limbs had gone limp, all the energy wiped from me.

  “Fuck, we’re doing this every year,” Hunter said into the shell of my ear. Then he began pressing kisses along my jawline as he slowly pulled out of me.

  “You only get one honeymoon.” I laughed. “But feel free to step it up for our anniversary next year.”

  “Luxury hotel in southern France with an all-inclusive honeymoon suite,” Hunter listed off as he pulled me through the water toward the steps. “You’ll bleed me dry before we make it to year five.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to start saving up, then, husband,” I purred, straddling him as he sat on the steps.

  “You better make it worth it, then, wife,” Hunter returned, snaking his hand up the side of my waist. He brushed his fingers over the ample curve under my breast, and despite the warm French air, my nipples instantly hardened.

  “I think that won’t be too much trouble.” I slide my hand up Hunter’s thigh, resting beside his friend, who was beginning to come back to life. “Move up a step.” I slid a finger up the underside of his dick.

  Hunter’s eyes darkened with hunger as he dragged both of us up to the shallower step, just enough so that his waist was now sitting out of the water.

  I slid off his lap as he watched my every move. Then I pushed Hunter’s legs apart and knelt on the step below, positioning my head above the tip of his erection.

  I felt a need for revenge as I saw the need growing in Hunter’s face and he gave a low, demanding growl.

  I pursed my lips as I sucked the pre-come off the tip, pressing my tongue into the slit and making Hunter hiss. Then I slid down to the base of his dick and skimmed my tongue along the underside then back up, hearing Hunter’s growl deepen.

  “Stop fucking teasing me, woman,” Hunter moaned out as I nipped him gently.

  “Don’t tell me what to do.” I squeezed around his base, and Hunter snarled.

  When I flashed him a wicked grin, he opened his mouth, no doubt wanting to tell me off again. However, I encircled my mouth around him, and his words were lost in a groan.

  I took as much of him as I could, relaxing my throat so he could go in deeper. Then I bobbed my head up and down, mixing between sucking and licking as I worked his base with my hand.

  I felt a pinch of pain as Hunter’s hand tangled in my wet hair, guiding me up and down his shaft. He didn’t push, his control seeming to hang by a thread. Seeing him on the edge because of me turned me on so much that it made me want to push.

  I hummed at the back of my throat as Hunter pushed deeply inside me, the vibrations rippling against his dick. That was all it took.

  “Fuck,” I heard Hunter say, his grip tightening in my hair, taking full control of my movements.

  He bucked his hips and moved faster with every thrust. I lifted my back, enabling myself to take more of him. Hunter groaned his appreciation through hot, panting breaths as he closed in on his climax.

  He was near the edge when I hummed again, the vibrations creating that last push.

  “Fuck!” Hunter growled, his hot come spilling down my throat as I swallowed every drop.

  When he untangled his hand from my hair, I looked up at him with a smile and said, “Now, who isn’t the quiet one?”

  Hunter shook his head before reaching out his hand. “Get your ass onto my lap now.”

  I did as I was told, my nipples pressing up against his hard chest, snaking my hand down over the firebird tattoo covering his heart.

  “I still love this,” I said softly, tracing the inscription.

  “You better,” Hunter retorted. “You’re getting one right next to it.”

  “What?” I asked, looking up. “You’re getting a tattoo for me?”

  “Not sure what it’s gonna be yet, but I need you on me, Mallory. Need you there permanently. And you’re gonna get one, too. No buts. I want my name carved on your ass, so everyone knows it’s mine.”

  I had never thought about getting a tattoo, not liking anything enough to consider having it permanently etched into my skin. The idea of seeing Hunter’s name there every day for the rest of my life, telling everyone that I was his, had me reconsidering it.

  “You want it,” Hunter cut into my thoughts.

  I looked back down at his smug smile and tried to
scowl. “Don’t read my mind.”

  Hunter’s smile only grew.

  He splayed his hand over my ass, rubbing the skin where he wanted his name marked. “I’ll get on this the second we get back.”

  “And until then?” I probed, rubbing my heat across his thigh, letting him know what I was proposing.

  “I dunno.” Hunter grinned. “Maybe I’ll go get a tan … Surf some waves.”

  “Hunter …”

  His smile fell away, and his eyes grew heated. He slid his hand down from my ass to where the gap between my thighs was growing lonely. He brushed against my folds, and I whimpered.

  “Guess I gotta go take care of my wife,” Hunter finally responded.

  In a second, he had me over his shoulder, my naked behind exposed out of the water where my bikini had been left floating, and marched me into the hotel.

  I squealed, but Hunter just laughed as he made his way inside the dark building.

  “Ain’t stopping for no one, babe, not until I get a taste of you.”

  I tried to reason with him, but there was no stopping him.

  I only thanked God the hotel was empty at three in the morning.

  Lucca

  Made Men, #4

  Sarah Brianne

  Available Now!

  Prologue

  The Story Behind the Scar. The Story of Sadness, Grief, and Torture

  Pulling his classic black Cadillac onto the side of the street, he positioned himself to watch the house. Then he looked at the clock, seeing he had timed it perfectly.

  School’s out.

  He flipped his lighter open and closed, open and closed, waiting for her return. Lucca had never been good at sitting still, nor was he a very patient man when he was tired. The night before had been a long one, and his body still felt it. Regardless, he had enjoyed every second of it.

  Last night, he had lain Mr. Johnson to rest and held up his promise of fucking the blonde until she regretted it. Both things had satiated his dark side … for now, anyway.

  Lucca flipped his lighter closed as a stuck-up BMW pulled into the driveway. He had never trusted a German car. The only thing good about it was its black paint color.

  A strawberry blonde exited the car. Elle Buchanan. He couldn’t help his sneer. His little brother was in big fucking trouble.

  Watching her walk to the front door, he believed the girl only got prettier the more you looked at her.

  It’s going to be a shame when I have to strangle the life out of her.

  One thing was for sure, the girl was going to die, and nothing could save her. It was unfortunate she had been there when the trigger had been pulled, but some girls were just born unlucky; this one in particular. She only had another month to her eighteenth birthday, and then … the end.

  The stuck-up-looking car reversed, drawing his attention back to it. He wondered who would drop off a girl in this neighborhood, driving that car. Truthfully, he was a little shocked this was the address, considering the girl had come from a prep school.

  His gut told him to follow the car. Anyone Elle hung out with could possibly be collateral damage if her fucking mouth blabbed too much.

  Looking at the clock again, he noticed there was a bit of time before Elle left for work, so he started his car, deciding to follow the BMW.

  He kept a good distance from it, following in a direction he hadn’t been expecting. This part of town was mostly owned by the city, along with some expensive restaurants and shops.

  Watching the car pull into one of the most expensive shops in town, he parked on the street and pulled out his cell phone, texting the license plate number to a friend. Then he waited in anticipation, curiosity slowly eating away at him, only growing worse when the car door opened.

  He immediately knew it was a woman when tall, black boots and black jeans hit the ground. The next thing he noticed was her long, silky hair. It was the blackest hair he had ever seen.

  He desperately wanted a glimpse of her face, but she never turned around. Therefore, Lucca found himself turning off the car and getting out, wondering how this felt more important than anything else he could do with his time.

  His instincts kept him going, following her into the store.

  Lucca prided himself on being able to go unnoticed. His appearance of dark jeans, black shirts, and black sweatshirts allowed him to do just that, plus his scruffy face and hair. He could go places no one in the family could. Made men demanded attention with their suits and immaculate grooming, whereas he didn’t need that kind of attention. I have other ways to get the attention I demand.

  Entering the store undetected was easy with all the expensive shit it held. He navigated the store, finding the girl in all black who seemed to be looking for a particular piece. A slight glimpse of the left side of her face revealed her soft porcelain skin. He stalked closer.

  Have I seen her before?

  Another small glimpse revealed her young age.

  Stopping, he was about to turn around—She’s too young—but then the girl turned and went back to a table she had already passed.

  His heart stopped for a beat when he saw the whole left side of her face and a striking gray eye. The other half was covered by a veil of hair. He wished he could reach out to feel the pure black strands of silk and move it to reveal the rest of her face.

  Leave now. Nothing good would come of this. He should have left the moment he had noticed she was just a teenage girl. However, though he was unable to place it yet, something about her called to him; kept him from looking away from her and leaving.

  The whole thing felt so wrong, yet so right. He was being pulled in different directions. His mind told him to leave, but his body kept him patiently waiting.

  Watching her hand go up to her face, he felt his breath catch when she swept her hair behind her ear.

  Fuck … His heart skipped another beat at the sight of her face in its entirety.

  His eyes traveled down the right side of her gorgeous face that held a scar from above her eyebrow down to the hollow of her cheek. Another one graced above and below her luscious lips.

  The instinct to let his fingertips glide down each mark was so strong he thought he might break his cover.

  Her gray eyes held the story behind the scar, a story of sadness, grief, and torture. It was like staring at a perfect porcelain doll that had been dropped one too many times. Others would see a flaw in the cracked doll, making her no longer perfect, but he saw only beauty.

  She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

  The gold, ornate piece she was infatuated with was unfamiliar to him until she opened the egg-shaped object and music began to play. Her eyes danced as she watched a ballerina twirl to the music. He wondered what it would feel like if she looked at him that way.

  “It’s a beautiful piece, isn’t it?” an older woman who looked to be the storeowner asked as she came up to her.

  The girl startled, shutting the music box.

  He wanted her to go back to the way she had been a moment before. He could watch her study the delicate piece with gentle hands for hours.

  When her tongue peeked out to lick her lips, he eagerly waited to hear her voice.

  “Y-yes.” She went back to looking at the box, avoiding the woman’s gaze. “H-how much is it?”

  “Three thousand dollars.”

  She removed her fingers from the piece. “Oh.”

  The woman kindly smiled. “I know Christmas just passed, but you could always ask for it for your birthday, maybe. I could hold it.”

  She shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s too much.”

  The lady continued to smile. “Well, you could always come back if you talk your parents into it.”

  “Thank you.” The girl took one last glance at the music box before she left the store.

  Watching her leave was harder than he thought it would be. He wouldn’t be able to come out of the store until she pulled out. Therefore, he had to watch her go to th
e car through the display window, and that wasn’t close enough for him.

  A vibration in his pocket had him pulling out his cell phone. He didn’t say a word when he accepted the call.

  His friend Sal came over the phone. “The BMW is registered to Maxwell Masters.”

  That wasn’t what he had expected, though it explained why he felt like he had seen her before.

  “Girl?” Lucca spoke into the phone carefully, watching her approach the driver’s side of her BMW.

  “He’s married to Elaine Maste—”

  “Younger,” he cut him off.

  Sal paused. “Scars?”

  Lucca’s eyes traced her markings. “Yes.”

  “That’s Maxwell’s daughter, Chloe Masters.”

  He ended the call with the push of a button.

  Time stood still for him as he soaked in anything and everything he could about her before she disappeared into the car.

  There was always a moment one faced in life when a choice had to be made, and this was his.

  Her tortured soul called to his dark one, whispering for him to save her. His heart was now slow and steady, finding its purpose—Chloe Masters.

  Taking one last look at the scars on her face, he couldn’t wait for the day he could run his fingers across it. Beautiful.

  Chapter One

  Mine

  Lucca sat at the desk in his home office, running his hands through his hair and trying to take deep breaths. The image of her had yet to leave his mind. His fingers still itched to trace her gorgeous markings. He wanted her, regardless of her age, and nothing is going to stop me.

  He had very seldom wanted anything in his life. The first had been becoming a made man, and the second had been becoming the underboss. Both things he had accomplished at a very young age.

  Being just twenty-six years old, he was the youngest underboss in the history of the Caruso family, and had become made at the age of seventeen, which was also the youngest anyone in the family had ever been made. What he had done to become made was something that would send most grown men to the psych ward, but not Lucca.