Outlaw MC: The Complete Boxset

by Ethan Egorov

  I get out of the shower and get dressed to head to the club. It feels like home walking in, like always. Until I see her—

  I’m shocked as all hell but remind myself that this is a small town. There is no other bar for miles, we are the first stop between coming into town and leaving. But she must live in the city, it doesn’t make sense.

  Paige is damned gorgeous; I stare at her for as long as I can. The way she sits straight up in the chair, perfect posture and arched back. Perfect for—I force the thought away and let my eyes roam down her legs and juicy ass in that seat before I figure I can’t stand here any longer. Just when I thought I’d never see her again; she walks right into my bar.

  “Do all lawyers follow their clients around?” I smile until she turns around and lower it to a smirk that I know gets her going, I can tell by the way she’ll blink and her lips will twitch in return.

  She turns slowly to me, her eyes going wide and burning brighter. I glaze over her vibrant red hair and wonder among the hottest of things.

  “What the fuck?” She mutters, and I still hear her.

  I chuckle as she grabs her purse and starts digging in it, probably for cash to pay and leave.

  “Hey, relax, you don’t have to run out of here.” I walk up to her and smirk further. She bites her lips, wetting them with her tongue.

  “What are you doing here?” She asks like she’s accusing me of something.

  “I thought you didn’t have a car.” I accuse right back. I let her ruminate over that when Spence walks in from the back.

  “Hey bro, you came back already?” He asks me.

  “Yep. Took a cab home and got out of those jail clothes.” I tell him. He is the only one that knows about what happened. But I knew that he would have to leave his shift at the club and sometimes the guys ask too many questions.

  I take a beer from Spence and twist it off, going to sit next to her. I inhale her sweet scent, something smooth and like a fruit I can’t place because of the bar smell around us. I stretch my legs and feel her looking at me too. She wants me, it’s obvious, and I want to find out how much.

  She drinks down the rest of her drink, something fruity with light alcohol, that much I can tell.

  “You want another?” Spence asks her. He is giving me looks and I’m sure he is trying to put the pieces together; I’m not exactly hiding that I am into her.

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “Make her another one, Spence.” I tell Spence. He chuckles and gets to it.

  “Are you ordering my drinks for me now?” She purses her lips and turns to look at me.

  “You’ve got a mean streak, Paige. Lied about not having a car, left me stranded. Now I can’t even sit in my own bar in peace. I’m trying to be nice.” I mess with her.

  She turns to me and half smiles, her lips making a smooth line. “Your bar? Is this your turf or something?”

  I moisten my lips and shake my head, not wanting to show off or anything but I am not about to downplay it either. I don’t want her thinking I am just some guy who gets arrested for speeding. “Sure. But I do own the place sweetheart, so it is my bar. Thank you for your patronage.” I tip my beer to her and then take a sip, not looking away.

  She gets her second drink; I ignore Spence making faces at me and focus on her eyeing the drink like it might hurt her.

  “You came here to let off some steam I suspect. So drink, I’ll leave you alone eventually.” I grin at her.

  She gives me a long look but holds it back, taking another sip anyway. I watch her lips curl around the straw and her smooth throat bring down her drink. I am entrapped by her, I usually just notice an acceptable woman and go for it, but I feel like I can’t even touch her, then I want to even more.

  We are clearly from two different worlds. Mine is too dark, too rough for her. Hers is good and bright, I don’t want to fuck that up.

  But I still want her.

  “You aren’t actually leaving, are you?”

  “Fortunately.” I chuckle and have more beer. I need to eat real food at some point, it’s been a long two or so days. That gives me the next idea.

  “So do you lawyer type eat?” I lean in to her, so we aren’t that far apart. She doesn’t move and I take a bit of pride in that.

  “By myself.” She answers.

  I laugh at her and shake my head.

  “Dude, your game is so bad.” Spence chimes in.

  “Get outta here, kid.” I warn him. He raises his hands in defense and walks off to the other end of the bar.

  “Is that your real brother?” She asks me.

  “Are there fake ones?” I chuckle.

  She licks her lips and turns to me fully. I can see a little down her shirt, the way her buttons are.

  “No, I just—I mean you look a bit alike but those jackets you’re both wearing. I mean is this a brotherhood cult or something?” She asks and it just makes me laugh aloud, she gives me a funny look but I contain myself.

  “It’s a um, an inside joke. But he is my real brother. This is my club.”

  “Club? Like… a country club?”

  “Yeah, but we don’t play golf, sweetheart.” I tell her.

  She swallows and her eyes pan to me. “Hm. I can tell.” She licks her lips and sips her drink.

  “So. You want to eat with me or not? I mean I should repay you for working my case so well.”

  “The government pays me, Roland. It’s fine.” She replies, shrugging me off.

  I sigh, shaking my head at her.

  “Look, I can tell you’re into me—”

  “That’s your interpretation.”

  “Hm, don’t try to lawyer your way out of this, Paige. You want me, I want you. We can skip to the chase if you want, make things easier.” I lower my voice, leaning closer to her and she does the same.

  “I just… I’m not into dating right now.”

  “So we don’t date. We just have fun.”

  “Is fun your euphemism for something else?”

  “Whatever you want it to be.” I reply.

  She giggles and shakes her head at me. I smile and wait for her response, hoping she is on the same page, as much as I think she is.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine?” I ask.

  She nods once, “Fine. I want to finish my drink first though.”

  I smile with a flutter under my skin that sends my blood rushing to one place. I don’t want to give myself too much credit but here it is.

  “Fine with me.” I lean back and sip at my beer. It’s just going to have to do for now because there is no way I am messing this up.

  “Aren’t you still stranded without your bicycle?” She giggles.

  “Please don’t call it a bicycle, it’s one of a kind. And I’ve got someone bringing it down.” I asked one of the prospects to bring it back to the compound. That’s what they are here for, earning their keep. Spencer was the last prospect we had and we haven’t picked up a new one since then. There aren’t many people that are actually cut out for this. But Spencer has been doing well, running some of the stake outs on the Devil’s Princes. That’s his thing, keeping watch without being seen, why his cut says Sparrow on it. I’m kinda pissed his club name is better than mine.

  “One of your henchmen. I don’t get it.” She laughs.

  I smile at her, “It’s kind of like any other club. I’m the president, we’ve got an exec board. The recruits are called prospects. It’s all pretty boring stuff.”

  She rolls her eyes, “And you don’t do any illegal stuff? Why would that cop have it out for you?” She asks.

  I shrug like I don’t know. I’m putting off club business until I can stand to use my brain properly. This is easy, this is relaxing.

  “I don’t.”

  I let her finish her drink and she stands, grabbing her purse to pay.

  “It’s on the house.” I tell her.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “It’s fine. I own the place remember?” I w
alk up to her and smile down, getting close enough to feel the heat of her body on mine.

  “Yeah. Right.”

  I smile and reach out, sliding my fingers over her inner wrist. Her breath hitches as she looks up at me, widening her eyes and dropping her lips.

  “So, your place or mine?”

  6

  Paige

  I fight the urge every second to just reach out and touch him, even though I know where the conversation is going already. It’s too soon for me, to sit down and have a meal with someone, to have a date. But I can let loose for a while, especially since I don’t have to represent him anymore. And to know that he is into me too is as much of a shock as any.

  Roland is the hottest man I have ever come face to face with, every second with him sets my body on fire and we are fully clothed in public.

  I stare back at him unable to speak for a moment, when it gets real.

  “Your place.” I tell him, because I haven’t even gotten comfortable in my new place yet so bringing him there will just seem foreign.

  “Nice choice, I recently cleaned.” He chuckles, his eyes go bright and I feel a flutter in my stomach. I have been full of butterflies since we started talking to each other, since he even walked in the room.

  The way he affects me is unexplainable and I don’t think I might ever figure it out. I just know that I need to release some of this stress, from my old life ending and having to start another one here. It’s like Roland walked in and offered his… usefulness. And I plan on using it as much as I can.

  “Good then.” I half smile. He steps closer to me and I feel like we are alone in this room, even though I know that we aren’t.

  I smile back up at him, the heat hitting my cheeks as I blush.

  “You want to ride on my bike? I’m sure it’s your first time.” He leads us out of the bar area, I walk closely to him, so my arm brushes his jacket and I inhale his scent wafting down to me.

  “I guess so.” It’s better than driving my car, it’s not that bad but I have been driving nonstop since I got here, it seems. “And it is my first time. On a bike, I mean.” I clear my throat and actively try not to trip over my own feet.

  “I’m glad to show you the ropes.” He chuckles, smiling down at me.

  We walk outside and hit the bright sun together, it does nothing to heat my skin the way he does though.

  It takes a few steps before he stops at a huge Harley that looks like it came out of a movie or something.

  The bright chrome glints in the sun and bounces off the sleek black exterior, the leather seat is high up and looks cushioned enough to be comfortable. I realize I am staring at it and look up to see Roland smirking at me. Standing next to the bike, he looks hotter than ever and I wish that stopped happening. I clutch my purse over my chest, glad that I wore a draw string one today.

  “It won’t hurt you, sweetheart. You want a helmet?” He asks.

  “Do you wear one?” I ask back. I keep getting tripped up on the pet name thing, not because I just met him but because no one ever used them on me before. Jason always only called me Paige and that was it, I never even tried them with him either. But I look at Roland and want to call him ‘babe’ or something, it’s absolutely ridiculous.

  “No, but this isn’t my first time.”

  “Sure then.” I step closer to the bike, it even feels dangerous to be close to, as does Roland. I suppose the two go hand in hand. Whatever this place is, whatever kind of club it is, I know enough to know that it can be a dangerous place too. Something about that just makes me more excited, it must be my lonely life of sheltered behavior, and I am just now breaking free.

  He gets a plain black helmet out of the seat compartment and comes around the bike to help me put it on. My face flutters at his fingertips brushing my cheek, the first time we have actually touched. It would feel like it was moving too fast but I don’t, his skin grazing mine just feels right. I reach out and my fingers graze his jeans, feeling the hard touch of his muscled thigh underneath them. Our eyes meet and he smirks at me, the noise of the helmet buckling clicking in the air.

  “You know what?” He says, his brow upturning.

  “What?” I lick my lips.

  He releases a groan under his breath that I don’t even hear until his lips are on mine, and I am replaying it.

  It feels as I suspected it might, a hard brush of his firm upper lip and cushion of his bottom, circling around my lips, he suckles my bottom lip and then deepens the kiss. I reach up and turn my head into it, my body aligning with his more. His hands slip from my face and down to my hips, grasping me through the thin material of my slacks, it’s like I have nothing in the way at all. I wrap my arms around his neck, his muscles rippling underneath me as he grips me tighter and presses my body to his. I feel the hard brush of his abs on my naval and his cock clad in his jeans rubbing against me, and it’s all over from there. I’m in this, seeing it through, something about it just feels right.

  “That’s what. Let’s go.”

  I get on the bike, with less struggle than I imagined. It is kind of like getting on a stationary bike at the gym or something.

  My legs are wrapped around his, and my body pressed to his bike. His muscles are hard and coiled, they ripple with every movement he makes. As I wrap my arms around his middle, I feel him tighten his abs with every turn. When we hit the freeway, he picks up speed and my heart thrums with the roll of the bike as we drive onward. It doesn’t take that long; I find I actually miss the ride when he comes to a stop. But I realize my eyes were closed and open them, blinking at the light when I lay eyes on a single-story ranch style home that looks exactly the opposite of where I imagined he would live. I should probably stop judging, since he surprises me so much.

  “Nice ride, right? You can feel the open air, not trapped in a metal box.” He grins.

  I step around the bike and nod. “It made my thighs a little sore but yeah, it was nice.” I giggle.

  He licks his lips and looks me from the ground up, “I can massage your thighs for you.”

  I swallow hard at that statement and focus my eyes on him. He just smiles, knowing that he got to me.

  The anticipation in my body is what has me stepping forward, the fact that I just want him this badly. It doesn’t even matter that we just met, but that this connection I feel isn’t equal to time at all. It isn’t something that I usually do either, outright having sex with someone, but it’s the change that I need and if it is just sex, I’m not averse to it being more than once.

  “Nice place.” I comment once we walk inside. It’s really nice, I wasn’t dogging him, and neat. The open concept living room clears way to the kitchen and the rest of the house seems to be behind the large, gray painted wall.

  “I tend to like it.” He chuckles, “You want something to drink?” He asks.

  I set my purse down on the mail table and smile at the fact that he has one of those to begin with.

  “I’m okay, thanks. How long have you lived here?” I ask him. He sheds his jacket and hangs it on a coat rack, it’s the only one there which I also find funny.

  “Uh, about ten years or so.” He replies. I look him over and he doesn’t seem that old to me, but ten years is a long time and people don’t usually live in houses unless it’s a permanent thing.

  “That’s a long time.” I comment.

  He stops walking, once we reach the end of the open floor and get to the hallway. The lights are off, but sunlight streaks through the window and lights up the hall. I get close to him again, and he doesn’t press me against the wall that much, but he is the only thing between me and the other side. My eyes roam down his tattooed arms, the bulge of his biceps and arms, fighting the fabric of his shirt. My fingers itch to reach out and touch him, so I do, my fingers trail down the swirls of gray ink on his arms, the designs are abstract but seem to lead somewhere, and go all the way down to the back of both his hands.

  “So how old are you?” I ask him. I’m only
twenty-seven but sometimes I feel older, especially this career and life change thing. His eyes narrow at me as he chuckles.

  “You’re asking me now?” He licks his lips and I shrug, being distracted by him. “I’m thirty-two. Why, are you underage?” He asks, but seems to be joking too because clearly I am not.

  I giggle, “No, I’m twenty-seven.”

  “And you’re already a hot shot lawyer.”

  “I’m no hot shot.” I roll my eyes, swallowing the acid that comes with the horrible memory of my prior hot shot job, that really would have made me one if I got partner by the end of the year. But that’s all gone now. I can be a pro bono hot shot, but not the one that people care about.

  “I can make you one.” He smirks and leans in to kiss me again, pausing before his lips meet mine to look in my eyes.

  The kiss is different than the last, I guess since we aren’t in public. But all the times I thought about kissing him and staring at him licking his full lips is played out right now, with the way he works my lips against his. He doesn’t waste time; his kisses are hard and purposeful and they set my body on fire. I splay my hands up his hard muscles, his skin is soft and specked with smooth hairs, I continue to his shoulders, covered by the fabric of his shirt, and squeeze his flesh as if holding on for dear life. I moan against him, when his tongue presses through my lips and entwines with mine. The rush is felt all the way down to my legs, making me clench as I kiss him back harder.

  His hands swipe down my body and roughly grab at my hips, his thigh spreads my legs and I feel his cock digging into my right thigh. He lifts me up against the wall, and I wrap my legs around him. It brings his groin aligned with mine, and he presses it into me too. The heat of him spreads over my body and flows between us, ebbing my desire up by the second.

  “Damn. What is it about you that drives me so crazy?” He breaks the kiss, pulling back to look at me. He moves his hands to cradle my face, his left thumb grazes across my lips and then his fingers dive back into my hair. His eyes meet mine, searing and intentional before they drop to the locks of my hair, he lets them drop through his fingers like a red waterfall. I used to shy at my hair, always put it in a bun or something, but he looks at it like it is the thing driving him crazy.