Savage Kings MC Box Set 1

by Lane Hart

  “I will work as fast as I possibly can,” I promise him when I crouch down to talk face-to-face to him. “And until I get it done, is it okay if your dad and I come visit you a few times a week?”

  “A few?” Ren asks.

  “We can come three times, so two more days after today for this week,” I explain. “But let’s not worry about that right now. How about you show your dad around the house? Where the playroom is, the kitchen, and of course, which room you sleep in.”

  “Okay,” Ren agrees before going over and grabbing War’s hand. “Come on, Dad. Did you bring my watch charger?”

  War looks to me in question and I shake my head. The judge is only allowing supervised visitation, so I know he won’t approve of unsupervised communications.

  “Not today. I’ll try to remember it next time,” he lies to his son.

  …

  War

  I don’t know how the fuck I’m gonna get through this shit for another thirty days.

  “Are you okay? Do you want me to drive?” Nova asks, making me want to kick her out of the truck’s cab.

  “I’m fine, just give me a goddamn second!” I snap at her while turning toward the window to try and stop the fucking tears that are pouring down my cheeks.

  Her hand comes down on my shoulder before she says, “It gets easier.”

  “How the hell would you know?” I ask, shrugging her hand off of me.

  “Because, with time, everything gets better,” she responds.

  “Not this,” I say, knowing without a doubt that you never get used to leaving your flesh and blood with strangers, miles away from home. Ren may never forgive me for putting him through this mess. And the worst part? He was so strong and tough despite the circumstances. He didn’t even shed one tear when we said goodbye, while I can’t seem to stop the flood that’s running out of my eyes.

  “You just need to stay busy and try to keep your mind off of everything for a few weeks. Is there another car you could fix?” she asks.

  “No.”

  “Any hobbies?”

  “No,” I answer. “When do I have time for hobbies? If I’m not at the clubhouse handling shit, then I’m at home, cooking and cleaning and taking care of Ren…”

  “And it sounds like you’ve been doing a pretty good job the last few years,” Nova says. “He’s a sweet kid and incredibly smart.”

  “Yeah, he is,” I agree, finally cranking the truck and making myself leave my kid behind with a stranger.

  “Being a single father and a guardian to your sister must have taken up a lot of your time.”

  “As much time as I could give them both while earning a living,” I reply.

  “So, then think of the next month as having a little time for yourself.”

  “I don’t want time for myself,” I mutter, and even I can hear how grumpy I sound.

  “You may not want it, but you’re getting it,” Nova reminds me. “So, if you weren’t a father or a big brother, what could you see yourself doing?”

  “Spending more time with the MC,” I reply, since that’s the only other important thing in my life.

  “Then go there,” she suggests. “Spend time with your…crew.”

  “Crew?” I repeat as I head for the highway. “My brothers don’t need me tagging around like a third wheel. Most have day jobs and lives outside of the MC.”

  “What about Maddox?” she asks. “You could spend time with him, right? Isn’t he pretty much at your beck and call.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “But he’s getting ready to patch in.”

  “So?”

  “So, once he’s in, he won’t need me hovering over him all the time.”

  “Then get in as much hovering as you can now,” she suggests. “And then think about what you would be doing if you were on your own without parental or MC responsibilities.”

  “I would probably be working long hours as a car mechanic, making shit for wages.” Then, curious to see what she does when she’s not working, I ask, “What hobbies do you have?”

  “Besides picking up men on the side of the road and luring them into fixing everything in my life that’s broken?” she jokes. “Well, I like to just sunbathe on the beach. It’s a peaceful place where I can forget all my worries, and it doesn’t cost me a penny.”

  “What worries?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she answers, too fast to be the truth. “Life, you know?”

  “Uh-huh,” I mutter.

  “It’s also a good place to try and meet men…” she adds, making my eyes cut over to her face to see if she’s serious.

  “You meet strange men on the beach?”

  “Sometimes,” Nova replies.

  “That’s not very safe.”

  “Neither is meeting men on the side of the road,” she points out.

  Whenever I think of how we met, I’m also quickly reminded of the gratitude she showed me a few minutes later on her knees.

  “Sorry about the shit I said earlier today,” I say to Nova. “I won’t tell anyone else what we did this weekend.”

  “Anyone else?” she asks.

  “Oh, um, yeah,” I respond. “I sort of shared that information with my attorney.”

  “Great,” Nova huffs. “He’ll probably tell everyone at the next bar meeting.”

  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” I assure her. “But, um, he suggested that I should keep sleeping with you.”

  “Why?” she huffs. “Because he thinks that will help your case?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ren may not be my son, but I care about the kids I help, and I take my job seriously. Nothing will bias me when it comes to his well-being,” she tells me, point blank. “Especially not how good you are in bed.”

  “I’m good in bed?” I tease her.

  “Aren’t you going to say good is not a fitting adjective?”

  “No,” I reply. “Good is better than okay. And we both know just how good it was…”

  Damn, I have to admit that sex would be a great distraction from everything else going on. It’s hard to worry about the future when the crotch of my pants is getting tight because my cock is thinking about what it wants right this fucking second. Since the suit didn’t have much room to begin with, there’s now a very long, noticeable ridge bulging at the top of my right pants leg.

  “I appreciate your apology. And I-I’m sorry that I slapped you earlier.” Nova chooses that moment to bring up the slapping, making my mind that’s already heading to the gutter think of slapping something of hers. “It was incredibly unprofessional of me. I reacted before I thought about my actions and that won’t happen again.”

  “It was unprofessional,” I agree, my words coming out huskier. “And you better be glad no one else saw it.”

  “Why is that?” she asks curiously.

  “There’s a club punishment that’s doled out to women who slap a King.”

  “A punishment? Are you kidding?”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  “Then what’s the punishment?”

  Since it’s not one of the club’s secrets or anything, I fill her in. “To punish a woman for that sort of blatant disrespect, we would bend her over our meeting table, pressing the side of her face into the bearded crown skull that’s engraved in the center, then spank her bare ass in front of all the members.”

  I hear Nova’s gasp before she says, “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not,” I tell her with a grin and shake of my head while keeping my eyes on the road in front of me. “But it started happening so often that we had to switch from spanking with our palms to beating asses with a belt. Too many crazy women kept slapping Kings just to get punished. Afterward, a few would even beg us all to fuck them. Once they get the belt whooping, it sure as hell doesn’t ever happen again. Some of the guys really miss that ritual…”

  “You should punish me.”

  I lose control of the truck for a split-second hearing her say those words. The front-end s
werves toward the shoulder on the right side of the road before I’m able to get a grip and correct.

  “What?” I ask because she couldn’t mean that. I must have misheard.

  “Take me to the clubhouse and punish me. Tonight,” Nova clarifies, leaving no room for doubt. “I deserve it, and you…you need something to take your mind off of everything else.”

  “Let me get this straight,” I say, while trying to concentrate on the road and wrap my mind around her sexy offer. “You want me to drag you into the clubhouse, embarrass you in front of everyone when I pull your pants down, and then humiliate you further by taking my belt to your ass over and over again, until there are bruises on your cheeks and part of the Savage King logo imbedded on your face?”

  “Yes.”

  A bark of laughter is my initial response to that. “And I’m really supposed to believe that beating your ass won’t hurt my chances of getting my son back?”

  “It won’t,” she tells me. “Look, War, I get that this weekend was about you needing a distraction while you left your son with his mother. You were worried about him and needed to take your mind off of all the various possible ways she could screw up, right?”

  “Yes,” I agree, since that’s pretty much exactly what I was trying to do.

  “And I understand that if you don’t do something with all that anger inside of you, and soon, you’re going to explode and possibly make things with the custody case ten times worse.”

  “I’m not a hothead,” I reply defensively.

  “I didn’t say that you were. Normally,” she adds. “But you’re stressed because it’s an emotional time and things are out of your control. You need another distraction. A release.”

  She’s right, and of course my mind goes right to a certain type of release I know would be more pleasurable than whooping her ass.

  Still…I can admit to myself that at the moment, the idea of taking my belt to Nova’s bare bottom is pretty damn appealing.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nova

  What the heck am I doing?

  Did I seriously just offer up my ass for a spanking? A belt spanking in front of a room full of men?

  Yes, I believe I did.

  And I must be crazy because just the thought of being bent over and at War’s mercy is turning me on. I’m sure, as soon as the leather lashes at my flesh, I’ll change my mind about that.

  “How many licks is it?” I ask War as I think this through.

  “One for each member of the Savage Kings,” he answers, which is ominous since I remember seeing several wearing the cut.

  “H-how many members are there currently?”

  “Eleven.”

  “Eleven!” I exclaim.

  “Yeah, but one is incarcerated. Since Ian can’t ride, he can’t vote. That means we’re officially at ten members.”

  “Ten. Wow,” I mutter.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know.”

  “I won’t tell anyone that you slapped me,” War assures me. And I know he wouldn’t.

  “Take me to the clubhouse,” I say when we’re right outside the town limits.

  “You’re absolutely sure?” he asks, stealing a quick glance at me before his eyes go back to the road.

  “Yes,” I answer. Ten licks of a belt doesn’t seem all that bad compared to the other pain life has thrown at me. Also, I’m curious to find out why my body is so excited about the idea of getting a spanking. No man has ever slapped my ass hard before. Lots of women seem to like the mixture of pain and pleasure, so why not give it a try?

  Plus, after all War did to help me over the weekend, this seems like the least I can do for him when he needs to let out some of his anger. Because, no matter how indebted to him I feel for all of his help, I can’t make a decision for Ren based on that alone.

  “And you swear to me that no matter how bad it hurts, you won’t ever tell anyone about this, not at work or in the courthouse?” War questions me.

  “I swear, War. I’ll sign a nondisclosure if you want me to,” I promise him.

  “Okay,” he agrees. “Let’s go to the clubhouse. First, though, I need to stop by my house to change and grab my cut. I can’t go into the chapel without wearing it.”

  “You’re finally going to let me see your place?” I ask.

  “Why not,” he remarks. “I guess you’ll need to do an inspection and shit for your report anyway, you know, make sure there aren’t any drugs lying around.”

  “You have a gun,” I point out, when I remember feeling it in his cut the first night we met.

  “Yeah, I do. Several. A lot of parents have them, especially military vets,” War replies defensively. “And when one is not on my body, it’s locked in a cabinet that requires my fingerprint and a code to get in.”

  “That’s great,” I tell him. “You’ll have to show me, so I can take pictures and include that in my report.”

  “Yeah, I will,” he agrees.

  A few minutes later, we’re pulling up to a sprawling one-story brick home that sits on several empty acres, with no immediate neighbors. The shrubs and flowers are all perfectly manicured and there are several large trees. It looks exactly like what I pictured when I tried to think of where War would live. And if I had to guess, I bet he not only does all the yard work himself, but he’s probably able to do all of the other manly projects around the house.

  “Nice place,” I tell him when he turns off the truck’s engine.

  “Come on in,” he tells me, so I follow him inside and he shows me around. When we get to Ren’s room, he quickly says, “Go ahead and look around while I go change,” before he disappears, like he can’t even stand to be in the room without his son.

  It’s a typical four-year-old boy’s room with toy cars and trains, a desk that’s covered with crayons and markers.

  Like the other rooms in the house, you can also tell that just a few days ago, it was also filled with love.

  …

  War

  “Wait here,” I tell Nova when I bring her down the stairs of the Savage Asylum, where a few of the guys are playing pool.

  “Sure,” she agrees.

  Since Torin’s bike is in the parking lot, I figure he’s in the chapel. When I knock on the closed door, he yells, “Come in!”

  “Hey, sorry to bother you,” I say, as I slip inside and shut the door behind me.

  “No problem. What’s up?” He tosses his pencil down and leans back in his chair. “How did court go today?” he asks, since I told him and the other brothers specifically not to come.

  “Shitty,” I reply. “The judge ordered that Ren stay with Social Services for thirty damn days while a report is done. But at least I was able to go see him tonight. They granted supervised visitation.”

  “Guess that’s something at least. How’s he holding up?” Torin asks.

  “Better than me,” I tell him honestly. “He’s taking shit in stride, but I can’t help worrying that even after all this is over, he’ll blame me for not getting him home sooner…”

  “When he’s home, those thirty days will be a distant memory,” he assures me.

  “Yeah, I hope so. I’m getting him back. I just have to be patient for now, I guess, which means keeping my mind off of the worst possible outcome,” I say as I rub my beard. “Anyway, the reason I dropped by was to see if we could call a meeting tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Torin asks. “You sure you’re up for that after the day you’ve had?”

  “I need to do this,” I tell him adamantly.

  “Do what?” he questions with an arched eyebrow.

  “Blatant disrespect punishment.”

  Torin’s eyes widen. “Really? You?”

  “Ah, yeah,” I mutter while rubbing the left side of my face where Nova’s palm landed earlier.

  “A woman slapped you in public? Who the hell would do that?” he asks.

  “Nova McQueen. She’s new around here, but she knows how this wo
rks, and she’s here…”

  “Fuck yes,” Torin says when he gets to his feet. “I’ll have Sax get everyone in here right now, if you’re sure.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.”

  “This the way you plan to keep your mind off of Ren?” he asks.

  “Something like that.”

  “You’re gonna use your belt?”

  “Yep,” I say as my hand goes to the buckle on the one I’m wearing.

  “Damn. You haven’t done this since—”

  “I know, believe me, I remember,” I interrupt him. And I found no pleasure in that instance. For Marcie, it was pure punishment after she slapped me up in the bar, in front of everyone, when I told her I wanted a divorce. But for Nova, something inside of me wants to inflict pain on her, right along with pleasure…

  “What is this woman to you anyway?” Torin asks.

  “A, um, a friend,” I tell him.

  “A friend you’re fucking to get through the shit with Ren?” he questions.

  “Something like that.” I withhold the fact that she’s also the key to possibly getting Ren back. This can’t end well. But I need it and she offered…

  “You’re sure you want to do this in front of everyone?”

  “Yes,” I agree.

  “All right, let’s do it,” he says.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nova

  “Do you want a drink…before?” War asks when he comes out of his closed-door meeting, followed by a tall man with sandy brown hair. The guy eyes me curiously before disappearing into one of the apartments I remember well from the weekend.

  “Yeah, a drink would be good,” I agree.

  “Let’s go upstairs. It’ll take about half an hour to get everyone in,” he tells me before leading the way up the steps to the bar.

  War orders me a light beer, remembering my preference from the weekend, and then the two of us sit at the bar and wait. Several other big men in leather cuts eventually start wandering in, offering a nod at War before heading down the stairs.