Satan’s Fury MC - Memphis

by Wilder, L.

  “I know. It was a stupid move. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come along.” She looked up at me with those beautiful eyes, and I was done. “Thank you so much for helping me like you did.”

  “No need to thank me. Happy to help.”

  “Well, I really appreciate it.” A light blush crossed her face as she asked, “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind walking me over to my car?”

  “I’d be glad to.”

  As we started towards her car, she turned to me and said, “By the way, my name is Samantha Travers.”

  Samantha Travers. I repeated her name in my head, committing it to memory.

  “Nice to meet you, Samantha. I’m Gus.” When we reached her car, I waited for her to unlock the door and get inside. “Be careful heading home.”

  “I will. Thanks again.” I nodded and turned to leave. I’d only taken a few steps when I heard her call out to me. “Gus?”

  There was something about the way she said my name that made my chest tighten. “Yeah?”

  “Will I see you again?”

  “You can count on it.”

  A smile crossed her face as she closed her door and started the engine. It was the kind of smile that let me know that she was interested, and I couldn’t deny that I felt the same way.

  CHAPTER 2

  Samantha

  “I just feel terrible,” Haley complained. “I meant to call you to let you know that I couldn’t make it, but it must’ve slipped my mind.”

  She’d called me into her office to apologize for being a no-show the night before. After hearing about what had happened with me, she was even more regretful. I’d been interning under Haley for the past couple of months, and things had been going really well. I didn’t want anything to jeopardize my chance to land a job there, so I decided not to make a big deal of it. “It’s okay. Things happen.”

  “It’s not okay. You could’ve been hurt.”

  “Yes, but I’m perfectly fine.”

  She leaned forward and placed her elbows on her desk as she continued, “You watch the news. It seems like every night someone has been shot or raped. To think that could’ve happened to you and it would’ve been all my fault!”

  “Don’t be silly. It wouldn’t have been your fault.” Haley had a flare for the dramatic and today was no different. I tried to settle her down by saying, “Besides, this man, Gus, was there to make sure nothing happened.”

  “Yes. Thank goodness for that!” A mischievous smile crossed Haley’s face as she said, “Sooo …. Tell me more about this Gus fella. Was he hot?”

  “Umm…Yeah, he was very hot. He was tall and muscular with dark hair and dark eyes.”

  “Ooo … Tall, dark, and handsome.” She smiled. “I like it.”

  “I did, too.” I could feel the warmth rush to my face as I thought back to the way he took charge of the situation and tackled that awful man to the ground like it was nothing. With his tattoos and thick beard, one might’ve thought I’d simply traded one bad guy for another, but that wasn’t the case. There was something about him that made me feel safe and protected, something more than the fact that he’d rescued me. “He was a little rough around the edges, but in a good way … a very good way. I’d never met anyone like him before. Gus had this confidence that just radiated off him.”

  “And he just appeared out of nowhere?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Maybe he’s some kind of superhero or something,” she teased.

  “I highly doubt that, but he definitely saved the day.”

  As she looked towards the doorway, her eyes grew wide. “You said the guy had dark hair and dark eyes. Did he, um, have a beard?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was he wearing one of those motorcycle vests and boots?”

  “Umm … yeah. I think so.”

  Haley was still looking over at the doorway as she continued with the questions, “And did he have tattoos?”

  “Yes?” Curious to see what had her so enthralled, I turned to look behind me as I asked, “How did …?”

  I didn’t finish the question. I couldn’t. My mind went completely blank when I noticed Gus walking in our direction, wearing jeans and a leather vest. He sure didn’t look like the other men in our office—and I liked it. Different looked good on him. So good, if fact, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he approached the doorway. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” His eyes met mine as he said, “I thought I’d stop by to make sure you were okay.”

  “That’s so sweet of you.” I smiled as I stood up and walked over to him. “But, you didn’t have to. I’m fine.”

  “I know I didn’t have to.” A sexy smirk crossed Gus’s face as he said, “I wanted to.”

  Haley came up beside us and batted her long eyelashes as she purred, “Sam was just telling me how you came to her rescue last night. You’re quite the hero.”

  “I’m far from a hero,” he scoffed. “Just doing what I could to help.”

  “I’m Haley, by the way.” She was practically drooling as she added, “Samantha and I work together.”

  He glanced over in her direction just long enough to say, “Nice to meet you. You mind if I have a moment with Samantha?”

  “Oh, uh … sure,” she stammered from the rejection. “I’ll just go grab myself a cup of coffee.”

  Once she’d left the room, he looked back over to me and asked, “You got plans for tonight?”

  “Um. No, not that I can think of.”

  “You wanna grab a burger or something after work?”

  Trying not to act too eager, I forced myself to take a breath before I answered, “Sure. I could do that.”

  “What time do you get off?”

  “Five o’clock.”

  “Great. I’ll be here at five to pick you up.”

  I was dressed in a pair of slacks and a white dress blouse, not the kind of thing I would normally wear on a date, so I asked, “Umm … could we make it five-thirty or six, and you pick me up at my place?”

  “Absolutely. Just need your address.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed a post-it note off of Haley’s desk and wrote down my address. “Here ya go.”

  As Gus took the paper from my hand, he said, “Gonna be on my Harley, so wear jeans and boots if you have them.”

  “Your Harley? You mean a Harley motorcycle?”

  His lips curled into the sexiest smile I’d ever seen. “You gonna be all right with that?”

  “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before.”

  Still smiling, he replied, “That didn’t answer my question, Ms. Travers.”

  “Yes, I’m good with it.”

  “Great. I’ll see you at six.”

  And just like that, he was gone. I probably would’ve spiraled into a fit of uncertainty about my impending date, but I had four appointments scheduled before noon and three after. I was already running late, so I rushed to my office, grabbed my things, and got out to my car before I got even more behind. I spent the entire day bouncing from one doctor’s office to the next, so I didn’t have time to dwell on my doubts about going on a date with a complete stranger and riding on a motorcycle for the first time. That freak-out came five minutes before he was supposed to arrive at my apartment. My heart was pounding in my chest and my palms were sweating as I looked at myself in the mirror. I took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths, but just as my nerves were starting to settle, I heard a knock at the door. I wiped my palms on my jeans, then made my way over to the door and slowly eased it open. When I saw Gus standing there looking all kinds of sexy in his jeans and leather jacket, my nerves kicked into high gear. Trying to pull it together, I forced a smile and said, “Hey. Come on in. I just need to grab my things.”

  “Take your time.” Gus stepped inside my apartment and took a quick look around. “You’ve got a nice place.”

  “Thanks.” I grabbed my purse and jacket off the sofa, then walked back over to him. “I’m ready when you are.�
�

  His expression grew soft as he said, “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you. You look really nice, too.”

  Once we were downstairs and I spotted his big, black motorcycle parked next to the curb, I started to feel a little apprehensive. Sensing my unease, Gus stepped towards me and smiled. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing to it.”

  Minutes later, my arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, and we were weaving in and out of traffic. To my surprise, I actually loved being on the back of his bike, feeling the wind in my face and hearing the sounds of the city roaring in my ears. It didn’t hurt that it gave me an excuse to be close to Gus. I loved his scent—a hint of cologne mixed with leather and smoke, and I loved how he appeared to be so confident and self-assured. It made me feel safe, like he was in complete control, and I was just there to enjoy the ride.

  Just as we were leaving the city limits, Gus turned down an old, side road that led up to a small, crowded café. As we got off the bike and started inside, he smiled and said, “I know it doesn’t look like much, but they have incredible burgers.”

  “Great. I can’t wait to try one.” He opened the front door and waited as I walked in ahead of him. As soon as I smelled the delectable scent of home-cooking, I immediately understood why the place was so packed. Gus reached for my hand and led me over to one of the empty booths in the back. Once we were seated, I told him, “It smells incredible.”

  “It tastes even better.” He took a quick glance around, studying the old, rustic farm equipment and photographs on the walls before saying, “The club’s going to open up a diner like this close to Beale Street, but instead of the old south, ours will have a Memphis blues theme to it.”

  I was about to ask what he was talking about when the waitress came over to take our order. After handing it into the kitchen, she returned with our tea and placed them on the table. I took a quick sip, then turned to Gus and said, “I’m not sure I know what you mean by the club.”

  “Yeah. I guess I should take a minute to explain that.” For the next half-hour, he explained how the club was much more than a group of men who rode motorcycles and worked together, and that they were a family who lived and died for each other. I’d heard of clubs like his and knew some were decent, while others were bad, really bad, but I’d never actually met anyone who belonged to one, much less ran one. I didn’t know what it meant to be a president of an MC, but it was clear that Gus took great pride in his position. He practically beamed as he told me how he’d been sent to Memphis to start up this new chapter of Satan’s Fury, describing the progress they’d made. “The clubhouse is almost done, so now we can start moving in there and focus on getting the restaurant up and going.”

  “That sounds like a lot of work.”

  “It is, but it’ll be worth it when we’re finished.” He took a sip of his drink before asking, “What about you? What’s your story?”

  “My story isn’t nearly as exciting as yours,” I admitted. “I grew up here in Memphis. I recently graduated from the U of M, and now I’m interning at MBC Pharmaceuticals. I’m hoping to start working for them full-time this summer.”

  “And your family?”

  “I have one older brother, Thomas. He lives in South Carolina now, so I don’t get to see him very often. And my parents … they can be a little much at times.”

  “How so?”

  I didn’t want to bore Gus with all the petty details of my controlled life, so I simply said, “Let’s just say, my father is in politics, and my mother does her best to portray herself as the perfect, doting wife. She’s quite the little socialite. Always doing community service projects and rubbing noses with the city’s finest. You know how it is.”

  “No. I’m afraid I don’t.” He smiled as he used my own words against me. “But, it sounds like a lot of work.”

  “Yes, it is.” I rolled my eyes, then continued, “Life under the microscope is definitely not for the faint of heart. It’s one of the reasons why I decided to go into a completely different line of work.”

  “Can’t say I blame you there.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “Since you grew up in the area, maybe you could give me some insight into a few things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Okay. What’s with all the bottles in the trees?”

  “Oh, that’s an old southern tradition. My grandmother once told me that people used to hang them to ward off evil spirits. They’d say that the spirits would be attracted to the sound of the bottles clinking together and end up getting trapped inside.”

  “Hmm. Not at all what I thought.” He paused for a minute, then said, “I think I’m getting the hang of some of the southern phrases like fixin’, over yonder, and blowin’ up a storm, but there’s one I’m still not sure about.”

  “Which one?”

  “When women say bless your heart. That has more than one meaning, right?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I answered, “Yes. It has all kinds of meanings. It just depends on the situation.”

  “Not sure I’m following ya.”

  “Okay. It can be used to show genuine concern, like ‘I’m so sorry to hear you aren’t feeling well, and you have a fever, too? Oh, bless your heart’. And it can also be used to soften the blow of an insult, like ‘that poor fella doesn’t have the sense God gave a goose. Bless his heart.’” I smiled as I told him, “You just pay attention to the tone.”

  He chuckled as he said, “Now, that’s just not right.”

  We talked nonstop through dinner, sharing stories about our pasts and hopes for the future. It seemed strange that two people from two completely different worlds could have so much to talk about. I was having a great time being there with him and was disappointed when he glanced around the empty restaurant and said, “I guess we better get going before they run us out of here.”

  I followed him out to the parking lot, and we were both silent as he helped me on the bike. Before I had a chance to say something cute or flirty, he started the engine and we were on our way back to my place. It seemed like we’d only been riding for a few minutes when Gus pulled up to the curb at my apartment and parked. I carefully eased off his bike and waited as he did the same. Once we’d both removed our helmets, I smiled and said, “I had a really good time tonight. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

  He eased over to me. “You got plans for the weekend?”

  Gus stood just inches away, and the way he looked at me made every nerve in my body tingle with lustful desire that I almost forgot to answer his question. “Um … no. I don’t have any plans.”

  “You do now.” Before I had time to think, he’d placed his hands on my waist and pulled me against his chest. My heart started to race with anticipation as he lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me. His lips were soft and warm, and suddenly, I was leaning right into him. It was clear that he was no Prince Charming. There was no white horse. No castle on the hill. He was rough, tough, and sexy as hell—and oh my, the man could kiss. His arms wound tightened around me, inching me even closer as his tongue found its way into my mouth. I was holding on by a thread, and just as I was becoming completely lost in his touch, he pulled back, quickly breaking our embrace. His dark eyes danced with lust as they locked on mine. As he handed me his card, he said, “Friday night at seven. If something comes up, just call me at that number.”

  “Okay.”

  He leaned in for one last, brief kiss, then said, “Good night, Samantha.”

  “Good night, Gus.” I turned and headed up the front steps. Just before I went inside, I turned back to him and said, “I’ll see you Friday night.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  As I opened the door, I couldn’t help but smile. I knew it was just one date, one simple dinner, and yet, I knew it was so much more.

  It was the beginning—our beginning.

  CHAPTER 3

  Gus

  On the day of Daisy Mae’s grand opening, only a handful of customers ha
d shown up, and the weeks that followed weren’t much better. I was beginning to think that opening the diner was a mistake, but then, things took am impressive turn. For one reason or another, customers started streaming in, and it wasn’t long before we were packed from open to close. Our hard work was finally starting to pay off. The renovations to the clubhouse were complete, the diner was thriving, and we’d even taken on a handful of new prospects and were looking at the Lost Knights MC as a possible patch over club. They were a small club with only twenty members, but they showed great potential—the kind of potential they’d need in order to be patched in as members of Fury. I was feeling pretty good about things, so I decided to take Samantha somewhere special to celebrate. I wanted it to be a surprise, so I didn’t give her much to go on—just the time when I was coming by to pick her up and that she should wear something comfortable. Of course, that didn’t set well with her. She was one of those women who liked to be prepared, so when I knocked on her door, I wasn’t surprised when she came out of her apartment with a large duffle bag in her hand.

  “You planning on moving in?” I cocked my eyebrow as I teased, “We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks, but I’m good with it. It would be nice to wake up with you next to me every morning.”

  “Umm. No.” Samantha gave me one of her looks as she answered, “I brought the bag because somebody wouldn’t tell me what we were doing tonight.”

  I didn’t understand her concern. She looked absolutely stunning in her jean-shorts and sandals, so I asked, “Did you or did you not hear me say to wear something comfortable?”

  “Yes, but that’s all you would tell me. Comfortable could mean flip-flops and shorts or a t-shirt and pajama pants, or jeans and—”

  “Okay. Okay,” I interrupted. “I get it. I’ll try to be more specific next time.”

  A satisfied smirk crossed her face as she asked, “Does that mean you’re going to tell me where we’re going tonight?”

  “Nope.” I took a hold of her duffle-bag and started walking towards the elevator. “Come on, beautiful. The clock’s a-ticking. We don’t want to be late.”