BOX SET - CHAOS KINGS: Chaos Kings Motorcycle Club BOOKS 1-4

by Lawless, Linny

  The way that biker, Gunner, looked at me, though—not like a piece of ass, not like some odd freak. All he wanted from me was my voice. He didn’t demand anything else of me as I sat on his lap. There was no way he could have hidden the enormous bulge in his jeans, right there between our bodies. And I told him my real name the moment he asked. That rattled me a bit too. I wasn’t afraid of him. Only the size of him.

  Destiny just ended her last dance onstage as I followed her back into the dressing room. The next dancer, Kesha, was up and fluffing her hair and adjusting her bikini in the mirror, preparing to go onstage.

  “Where do bikers go, Destiny?”

  She was wiping sweat off the back of her neck with a towel. “Go? You mean, where do they hang out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well your biker does hang, doesn’t he?” She laughed.

  “Destiny. Seriously. Where?”

  “Why? You want to stalk him like Kyle does you?”

  “No.” I blushed because Destiny could read me all too well. “I just want to know his real name. I know it’s not Gunner.”

  “Just so you know, hon, I don’t think any of those Chaos Kings would like it too much if you started following one of them around.”

  “I’ll be discreet. Unnoticeable.”

  “You? Unnoticeable? Now that’s funny, mon cheri.” Destiny spoke in a sultry French accent.

  “Please, Destiny? Where do bikers like him hang out?”

  She sighed and looked up at the ceiling before answering. “I know of one biker bar called the CrowBar. In town. There’s a couple of other dive bars that I’ve heard of too.”

  I pulled my duffle bag out of my locker and changed back into the clothes I wore to work that day. “Thanks, Destiny.”

  “Are you going there now?”

  “Yes. I’m off now. Why not?”

  It took a couple days, but my body was finally getting readjusted to my meds. I’d been off them for about a month but went to see the doc at the Fort Belvoir VA to prescribe me more. If anything, it helped with the flashbacks and waking up drenched in a cold sweat. It had been nearly two years since Ryan’s suicide. He was my brother, the primary gun loader on the Abrams tank when we were deployed in Iraq. He suffered from the demons of PTSD as much as I did but then turned a gun on himself. I went to visit his grave earlier that day at the National Cemetery in Arlington.

  And tonight, I had to get out alone. The fall chill was setting in, but not too cold yet to ride the Road King down back roads close to home. The chilly wind pushing against me felt good as if lifting the heavy weight off my shoulders. I ended up kicking my stand down in front of the CrowBar. It was familiar and close by, yet out of the way from everything and everyone around me.

  Grease worked the bar with the cute blonde, Lisa. She poured a Guinness in a frosty glass mug and winked when she handed it to me. “Thanks, Lisa.” I brought it up and took a nice long drink. The bitterness tasted good.

  “Is it just you tonight, Gunner baby?” Lisa jutted out her hip, giving me a cute smile.

  “Yeah. Just me.” I winked back at her. “Maybe shoot a few games by myself.” I headed toward the back of the bar to the pool tables.

  “Well, if you get bored playing with yourself, come back over and shoot the shit with me.” I thought about taking her up on that offer, but there were enough people at the bar to keep her and Grease busy that night. And I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to anyone anyway.

  After my second refill of Guinness, I aimed the cue ball behind the black number eight. As I pulled back the pool stick, red hair came into my peripheral vision from the front door and ruined my aim as I took the shot. The cue ball smacked into the eight and rolled steadily toward the corner pocket. And dropped in. I scratched. I never scratched.

  I rose up, and her eyes met mine. Fiona. My first thought: what the fuck was she doing here? I was used to seeing her gorgeous body, but now she was in tight jeans, a dark green T-shirt that clung tightly to her tits, and sneakers. My dick got rock hard instantly.

  She didn’t smile at me, but walked to the bar, planting that nice ass on a barstool. Right next to her sat a couple of middle-aged men, weekend riders in their shiny new leather Harley jackets. One of them I knew as Ted.

  I guzzled the rest of what was left in the mug, pressing my palm against my crotch, and headed over to Fiona.

  I heard the last thing that came out of Biker Ted’s mouth. “Don’t you dance over there at the Cheetah Club?”

  She nodded and replied with a smile, “Yes, I do.”

  “I thought so. I bet you do more than dance, don’t you? You are a sweet piece of ass—"

  I slapped Ted across the back of his head. “Don’t talk to her that way, dumbass.”

  He swung around on his stool. “What the fuck, man? “

  I was not in the mood to get my knuckles scraped by smashing it against his nose. “She didn’t come in here to listen to shit pour out your mouth. Get up and move.”

  He climbed off the stool, throwing some cash on the bar. “I was done with my last drink anyway.” He left, and I planted myself on that stool, sliding my empty mug toward Lisa. She poured me another.

  “I get that a lot. It really isn’t a big deal.” Fiona’s voice was soft.

  I turned to look right into her pretty blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s a public place.”

  “Yes. It is. What are you doing here?”

  Her smiled faded. “I want to know your real name. I know it’s not Gunner.” Lisa placed a cocktail glass in front of her.

  “It’s Ethan.” I brought the mug up for a drink, looking away.

  I heard her pretty lips sip on the two little cocktail straws in her glass. “That’s a nice name.”

  I shifted on my stool and turned back to her. She smelled like sweet honeysuckles. I was still hard. She looked down and noticed too. “Not a good idea coming in here alone. Just to find out my real name?”

  She looked up from my crotch, her pink lips straight. She brought the straws to her lips again and took several long swallows to finish what was in the glass. Placing it back on the bar, she fumbled through her purse to find her wallet. “Sorry I ruined your night. I’ll not bother you anymore.”

  She tossed a bill on the bar and climbed off the stool. I reached and grabbed hold of her arm. “You don’t bother me, Fiona. But I don’t like to be followed.”

  “But it’s okay for you to follow me? You watch me at the club. You finally have me alone in the VIP, and all you wanted was for me to hum to you?”

  I pulled her to my chest. She was so fucking soft. “I want more than that. Much more.”

  She exhaled. Her breath smelled like rum. “I’m not afraid of you. You can’t scare me away.”

  “No? Well, you should be.” I didn’t care if anyone was looking. I tugged at the collar of her T-shirt, leaned down and clamped my lips and teeth onto the soft juncture between her neck and shoulder. She gasped. I sucked on her flesh, then released it with a smack. A hickey appeared, the size of a silver dollar against her creamy white skin.

  I looked back into her eyes. They were glossier and hungry. “That doesn’t scare me either. Show me more.” She was a brave girl.

  I released her and pulled away. I lifted the mug to my mouth again. “Go home, Cherri.” I wasn’t going to show her anything. She turned away and rushed out of the CrowBar.

  I got in my car, shut the door, and turned on the ignition. But before I put the car in drive, I reached up and pressed my fingertips on the part of my neck that he’d just claimed. I got what I came to the CrowBar for. His name. Ethan. The wall he built around himself was high. But I also felt his intense sexual energy. His eyes said he wanted to devour me, right there in the bar. When his lips and teeth latched onto my neck, I lost my breath. I lost all reason. My heart pounded, and I shivered as the goose bumps rose along my arms.

  And then as quick as two heartbeats, he released me. Pushed me away.
The wall was back up. I didn’t know anything about Ethan. Only that he rode a motorcycle and was part of the Chaos Kings motorcycle club. He didn’t frighten me, though. Quite the opposite. He was intriguing, mysterious, and crazy gorgeous. I wanted his lips to devour mine. I wanted to know what his tongue tasted like.

  The painful feelings of being pushed away made me think about the home I left. My father. The shame. The fear. Of feeling worthless and disgusting. I was evil in their eyes. A whore. A temptress. I liked to dance. I liked to sing. I liked to touch my body. But it was bad. Sinful. Strangers looked at me as those things sometimes. But not Ethan. He didn’t look at me like I was a wicked thing—he looked at me with adoration and desire.

  I drove back home to my little one-bedroom duplex. I was able to afford to live on my own with the money I made at the Cheetah Club. I rented from Libby, a nice elderly widow. She told me once that I reminded her of her granddaughter, who lived in California. If I wasn’t dancing, I was home. Everything for my modest home was bought used or from a local thrift shop. I decorated as best as I could in bright, pastel colors. I had a couch, dinette table, and a bed. That was all I needed and made-do with what I had.

  When I parked along the curb in front of my house, I was only a few yards from the front door when I noticed photographs taped all over it. I looked down the road and turned to glance behind my car. There was no one around. The neighborhood was quiet. As I left my car and walked closer, I could make out the images taped all over the door. Naked bodies. Naked women, fully exposed. Still shots of porn from the internet. Close-ups of women with men’s erections in their mouths. I stopped breathing. I spun around but saw no one there. I turned back around and ripped the pictures off the door as fast as I could. I crushed them up into a ball, unlocked the door and let myself in, then tossed the pictures in the kitchen wastebasket.

  I pulled out my cell phone and called the only friend I had. Destiny.

  She answered on the second ring. “Hi, Destiny. I’m a little shook up.”

  “What’s wrong, Fiona? Are you okay?” I could hear the thumping of the music from the club in the background. Destiny called me my real name when we weren’t together at the Cheetah.

  “I’m okay. Someone taped a bunch of pornography all over my front door.”

  “I bet it was that asshole prick Kyle! Just be careful, Fiona. You need to call Five-O. Now!”

  “No. I tore it all down. I’m okay. I’m looking out the front window now. I don’t see anyone or any cars that I recognize. I don’t know how long those pictures were there today. I was out for a few hours. I just hope no one saw them, especially my landlady Libby. It would have really upset her!”

  “I’m getting ready to go onstage. When I’m done, I’ll clock out and come over, okay?”

  I didn’t want to be alone. “Okay. Take your time. I’m okay… And thank you.”

  “Of course, mon cheri …”

  Destiny was at my house within the hour. I showed her the crumpled-up porn in my trash. She huffed. “It was Kyle. I’m sure of it. That motherfucker needs to be taken down a notch or two, Fiona.”

  “He’s a nuisance, yes, but he’s harmless.”

  “How do you know that?” Her eyes were fiery. “You should stay with me for a while.”

  “I’ll be okay. Really. He’ll cool down. I’m sure of it.”

  “Well, I’ll stay with you tonight then.”

  And she did. I poured both of us some wine, and we sat together on my couch sharing a soft fuzzy blanket. We stayed up and watched a romantic comedy together to help lighten the mood.

  The ending credits of the movie began. “I went to the CrowBar and found him, Destiny.”

  “Found who?” She took a sip of her wine.

  “That Chaos King. The one who calls himself Gunner.”

  Her eyebrows lifted as she swallowed. “Yeah? Do tell! Give me the deets!”

  “His real name is Ethan. “

  “Yeah? And? Did you talk? Did you fuck him?”

  My face turned a shade of pink to match the chardonnay in my glass. “No, I didn’t fuck him! And he wasn’t too happy that I was there. I know he’s attracted to me, but he puts this wall up.”

  “Well, I did warn you I didn’t think he’d like you following him around like that.”

  “I know you did. But I can sense something in him. He doesn’t look at me like I’m a piece of meat or something disgusting.”

  “We’re in the business of making money off our assets. So, yeah, we may be just a piece of meat to some men, but we take their money and make a living off it too. And I really don’t give a fuck what they think, or any of those other catty bitches at the Cheetah.”

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. I pissed him off.” My heart sank again as I admitted it out loud to Destiny. And to myself.

  Even though it was fall, Mother Nature wasn’t yet ready to let go of summer. It was a balmy ninety degrees on a Saturday afternoon. Not as hot as the Iraqi desert, but hot nonetheless. I worked the morning shift taking service calls for tows. I clocked out and headed over to the Cheetah in my Ford truck—cherry red like the Road King. It took me a few days to swallow down my own pathetic guilt over what I had done to Fiona at the CrowBar. I was a total shit for what I did to her. But damn, did she taste like heaven when my mouth clamped down on her neck. It took all the self-control I had not to scoop her up, plant her plump ass on that bar, yank her jeans off, and ram my hard cock deep inside her. Fuck her right in front of everyone.

  And she just enticed me more when I looked into her pretty blue eyes. Brave. Aroused. She wanted more. Oh, how I wanted to give it to her too. But if I did, she’d see the monster.

  A few cars and trucks were parked as I pulled into the parking lot. I headed toward the front steps, but the faint sound of a dog’s bark steered my attention to a silver BMW. I saw the outline of the dog’s head and ears in the driver’s seat. The windows were rolled up. I cupped my hand over my brow to peer through the window. A gray pit bull looked back at me, panting and whining. Its paw came up to the door panel. The car wasn’t running. It must have been at least a hundred and thirty degrees in the fucking car. My temples suddenly began to pound and throb with blinding pain.

  I hurried back to my truck, reached under my seat, and pulled out a crowbar I kept hidden there. I raced back to the BMW and swung the crowbar and smashed the window. It splintered. The second swing broke it, and the glass exploded into pieces. I reached in and opened the door. The dog jumped out panting and heaving. He was definitely male, his balls still intact. He sauntered back toward me and sat down on his haunches.

  I dropped the crowbar and extended my hand toward his muzzle. He sniffed me. I knelt down and took hold of his collar. Black leather with silver studs. No tag. I rubbed his jowls as he drooled. I picked up the crowbar and the dog followed me as I headed back to the truck. He jumped right in as I opened the door and bounded over to the passenger seat. I started the truck and turned the A/C on full blast.

  “Get cool, Trooper. I’ll get some water.” I shut the door and marched into the club.

  Hank, the humongous bouncer, stood by the DJ booth, wearing a black T-shirt with white letters reading STAFF across his back. His arms were crossed over the tight, fitted shirt. Half a dozen middle-aged men dressed in plaid shorts and colorful shirts looking like they’d just played a round of golf sat near the stage, drinking beers and watching one of the dancers spin around the pole.

  I approached Hank, cupping my hands around my mouth and raising my voice to be heard above the pounding music, “Hank, who drives the black BMW? Is he a regular?”

  “That’s Kyle’s car.”

  My eyes scanned through the smoke, strobe lights, and shadows of the bar. “Where is he?”

  “He’s in the VIP with Cherri. Why, Gunner? What’s up—”

  I sped past him, down the dark hallway to the VIP rooms. He came out of the second VIP room. Suit, loose tie. Kyle.

  Fiona appeared right behind hi
m. “Kyle, you can’t keep doing this—”

  He spun around, his hand enclosed around her throat, pushing her back against the door. “Fucking whore!”

  Throbbing pain gripped both sides of my skull like a vice. Suddenly, my vision tunneled, and all I could see was Kyle. Like looking through my tank’s main sites, at the hash mark cross hairs. He was the target. It was an automatic reflex as I reached behind me for the revolver, pulling it out of the belted holster underneath my shirt. Grabbing his shoulder from behind and slamming his back against the wall, I shoved the end of the gun barrel into his mouth. His eyes widened in fear as his lips clamped down around it.

  I fisted my other hand onto the front of his suit jacket. My eyes bore into his. My jaw clenched, and my teeth ground so hard it intensified the pain in my skull. I slowly shook my head back and forth. All he could do was moan with the barrel shoved between his fucking yap.

  “No! Please, Ethan. Don’t!” Fiona’s cry halted my finger on the trigger.

  “Fucks like you don’t deserve to breathe.” I yanked him away from the wall and shoved him hard. He stumbled, falling backward and landed on his ass. I stepped up to him as he scooted back on his hands, then gained his footing and ran.

  I turned back to Fiona. Her hand was clutched to her throat, her eyes wide with fear. I put my revolver away and stepped to her, cupping her soft cheek. “Are you okay?” She nodded, but her eyes began to well up with tears.

  Hank appeared from around the corner. “Everything okay back here?”

  I turned to look at him. “Yeah. Don’t let that asshole back in the club. Hank.” Fiona pressed herself into my chest and started to cry. Hank left us alone, and I wrapped my arms around her.

  She was shaking. “He’s never done that before,” she mumbled against my chest.

  I breathed in her familiar scent of honeysuckles, savoring it. “And he’s never going to do it again.” I tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. “Go tell Hank you’re taking the rest of the day off. I’ll follow you back to your place.” Then, I smirked. “I want you to meet a new friend of mine. He’s out in my truck.”