Call Me...Vengeance: Book 1 in the Vengeance MC Series (15 page)

When she saw me staring at it, Bella told me that Jay had tattooed it for her on her twenty-first birthday, He’d told her that if she wanted something that large, she would have to wait until she was absolutely sure she’d never change her mind. I didn’t tell her I agreed, having seen the aftermath of people making poorly informed decisions, but I definitely understood his logic nonetheless. However, he hadn’t made her wait for the other tattoo he had done for her. That he relented to doing the day she turned eighteen.

According to Bella, Jonas wasn’t particularly happy with the placement or design, but he hadn’t put up too much of a fight. Two hot pink bows, heavily outlined in black rested on the back of each of her thighs about three-quarters the way up their length. They might not have been my choice in design, but even I had to admit they suited her personality and looked kickass with her choice of clothing.

There was a moment before we left that I felt woefully inadequate standing next to Bella. I hated to admit it, and as soon as I did I chastised myself for it. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t internally comparing our differences. Something Bec would kick my ass for if she were here. Loud, outgoing, confident Bella has a huge personality and is happy to drag whoever she’s with along with her for the ride. All of which I liked. And part of that was because I wished I was more like her myself. That wasn’t me, though, and it wouldn’t be. I could only be who I was, who I’m meant to be. And I’m finally okay with that.

Dressing in a pair of distressed skinny jeans and an off-the-shoulder shirt, with a gauzy drape that exposes some cleavage, but not too much to be indecent, I had just slipped on my brand-new, emerald green, four-inch, peep-toe Louboutin’s before Bella knocked on the door.

Staring at my feet, I shook my head at my ridiculous choice of footwear. Not because the heels weren’t stunning, they were, but because I knew my adoration of fantastic footwear was going to be the death of me. I would no doubt be cursing myself in about half an hour, or less when I end up with blisters upon blisters. But there was nothing for it. They were perfect and I was wearing them no matter the cost to my poor soon-to-be-abused feet.

*****

Walking into Hounds at about eight pm, a wave of stale alcohol, tobacco, and cheap perfume hit me immediately, making me feel slightly queasy. Once Bella and I made it further into the bar, it eased off a little, but not entirely. Stuffy and humid, Hounds wasn’t packed wall-to-wall with people, but it was busy. A bead of sweat traveled down my neck trailing into the valley of my breasts, causing the fabric of my shirt to cling to my chest.

Hounds was everything I’d imagined a biker bar would be and then some. Scarred timber floors, loud music, framed Harley prints, (some with naked women straddling them, and some without), the stickiness of spilled beer beneath my feet, and peanut shells littered as far as the eye could see. Most of the women I noted were dressed in far less than Bella. Wearing tiny shorts or skirts, their cropped T-shirts barely covered the essentials.

Noticing I’d stopped, Bella rolled her eyes dramatically when she saw what I was looking at, muttering,

“Sluts. Biker groupie, sluts.

Tugging on my arm, leading me further into the dimly lit space, the room came to a screeching halt, for me at least, when my gaze landed on a very familiar, hungry pair of steel-gray eyes. They were locked on me, only me, his keen appreciation making me feel like I was the only woman in the room.

I’d dreamed of his eyes. And as mortifying as it was, I have to confess they weren’t the only I fantasized about when I dreamt of Jackson. Last night’s dream being the most intense to date. It was vivid. It was raw. It was carnal. And I’d loved and hated every second of it.

Jackson had me pinned against the wall, naked except for a pair of heels. My legs were spread, my hands held above my head, with him still fully clothed. On his knees, Jackson finger fucked me almost brutally, and I had loved every second of it. I came twice, the second almost immediately after the first. My third orgasm came as Jackson licked, nipped, and ate at me, sucking my clit into his mouth.

I had woken up before I could get to the good stuff, or should I say better stuff. The stuff where I reciprocated, sucking his cock into my mouth, riding him, letting him ride me. That dream had stuck with me all day. In fact, I could barely think of anything other than how it would feel to have him inside of me like that. How he would taste. How amazing it would be. Shit, just remembering the dream had my panties growing damp.

Maneuvering through the bodies, Bella steered me toward the booth the MC had claimed. When we reached their table, I let out a heavy sigh. Not a cry of anguish at seeing them after recalling my vivid dream, but a sigh of relief. My damn shoes were already killing my feet. I should probably have been more hesitant about joining them, worried Jackson would know what I’d been thinking when I was staring at him from across the bar, but I wasn’t. All I could think about was sitting down and giving my aching feet the respite they were demanding.

Not one to suffer silence, Bella gave them a wave as we approached.

“Hey, what’s up big brother and even bigger posse of hot ass bikers?” They all chuckled at her sense of humor except a somewhat watchful Dirty. He seemed more interested in eyeing Bella up and down, devouring her like she was his next meal and he was ravenous.

Not sure what to do, whether it was okay to sit or if I was supposed to wait for an invitation, I stood and waited. Not that I had to wait long.

I swear to God, I was like a crack addict looking for a fix, and my drug of choice was Beth. I’d come down off the high I’d got meeting her earlier in the week too quickly. And it had become apparent that I’d need regular doses of her to remain a functioning human being. That was a realization that didn’t bring me any measure of peace, however.

The attraction I felt toward her was intense, and the fact that it was making me act like a pussy whipped asshole wasn’t comforting. I’d gone as far as to call Jay a couple of times that week, subtly trying to find out how the red-headed goddess was settling in if she was happy here. Jay had just laughed at me, telling me to man up and call her myself, muttering something about not being a ‘fucking girly chat hotline operator.'

I came close to dropping into Wicked Skin on my way back from Pipes a few times, but couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse as to why I’d need to be there. Not that I needed one, Jonas was a friend after all. But still, it didn’t feel right. I didn’t know her well enough to be showing her that kind of attention, and the vibe I got from her was that she would appreciate it if I pushed it. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to, I’d just give her a little more time before I made my move was all. It wouldn’t be long, a few more days at most, but I’d give her that. Until I couldn’t anymore.

As it was, I was developing some nasty callouses that had nothing to do with being a mechanic. The number of times I’d jacked off to the vision of her in my head this week had been fucking crazy. Especially, since I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had to jack myself off. My best guess, I would’ve been fifteen or so.

I knew she was different, but that was made glaringly obvious when the thought of letting someone else take care of my growing problem made me feel fucking ill. My brain had convinced my body that there was a distinct possibility my cock would shrivel up and fall off if it came into contact with anyone other than Beth. And that was a significant fucking problem. But nevertheless, a problem only one woman could solve.

Six brothers and I had rolled to a stop outside Hounds earlier. Tires to the curb, helmet to handlebars. My head was all over the shop, and the last place I’d wanted to be tonight was here. If it wasn’t for Diesel letting it slip that, Bella and Beth were having a girl’s night, I would have been kicking back in my recliner in the main room at the clubhouse passed the fuck out by now. Did I mention I was getting old?

Getting stopped by a few folks before making it to wherever the hell we were going was typical. They saw us. They stopped us. We reassured them we had eyes on everything, it was all good. We left. It wasn’t as if we were local celebrities, but it couldn’t be denied that most of Furnace’s residents appreciated having us around. As far as they were concerned, we equaled protection. Free protection. Something we were more than happy to provide.

I sent the brothers out to drop in on the other two bars in town, Murphy’s and Lowman’s, regularly enough to make sure no one was starting shit and the disturbances were kept to a minimum. Patrols around town, back roads, local degenerate hangouts (not that there were many we hadn’t cleaned up), and twenty miles either way on the highway in and out of town. I didn’t leave shit to chance, you couldn’t in our business. We did it not only to keep the club safe but the innocents that could get caught up in our shit safe too. It was our duty as far as I was concerned.

Back in Hog’s days, people wanted protection, they paid for it. They wanted security, the paid an even higher price. The MC didn’t go around demanding business owners pay for the privilege, we weren’t the fucking mafia, but it wasn’t given out of the kindness of Hog’s cold, dead heart either. Just another way things had changed since the old man kicked it.

Situating ourselves in a double-size booth so we had room to stretch out, I noted that Hounds was already getting busy. It wasn’t uncommon it would be filling up by now, but it wasn’t usual either. Reclining as much as the booth allows, a waitress we all knew, Sherri, took our orders, paying close attention to our Sargent at Arms, Edward ‘Gage’ Peters.

Gage had told me a few weeks back that they’d had a thing, it had burned out for him pretty quick, but it was obvious looking at Sherri she was still into him. Poor girl, I cringed inwardly. Gage isn’t a man who’s built to get close. He keeps his guard up, protects his brothers, is loyal to a fault, but he’s open about how disinterested he is in tethering himself to a woman. Any woman.

As our beers and Diesel’s bourbon arrived so did Jay. Fuck, I was going to have to dry the bastard out if he kept this up. Diesel’s liver would be as wasted as his heart soon.

Folding his massive frame in next to, Dirty, Jay gave out a few fist bumps, a nod here and there, and salutes to Diesel, who wasn’t paying attention to him anyway. That faraway look he’d been sporting for weeks was plastered all over his face, so I didn’t doubt he’d be cutting out early tonight. Again.

My VP went for rides to fuck knows where, drunk off his ass, often. One of these days, I feared I’d be getting a call like I had the day the County Sheriff called to inform me Hog was gone. This time, it would be about Diesel, though. My best friend. My VP. My rock. I wouldn’t let him fall down that rabbit hole, I just hadn’t found a way to get him out of it yet.

We were on our third round when something, or should I say someone caught my eye. I was fucked in the head, shit was swirling so fast it was like a vortex in there, but I wasn’t so far gone that I wouldn’t have been able to pull myself out of it to notice her.

There was nothing about this woman that wasn’t pure class. In a room full of barely dressed skanks, women looking to fuck rough, and used up pussy hoping to get lucky, Beth was a beacon of pure light. Not that Bella wasn’t good and clean too, she was, but she wasn’t on my radar. Not like
she
is. Not even close.

Looking at Beth now, shifting nervously foot-to-foot, I ready to throw all my good intentions out the window. I’ve never been a patient man, but I’d wanted to do things differently with her. I was used to getting what I wanted when I wanted. Taking it if I had to. I sensed Beth wasn’t a woman who’d go for that sort of Neanderthal shit, but I couldn’t change who I was. No matter how much I wanted to. I’d tone it down some for her, though.

Throwing a glare at, Dirty, I silently communicate he better stay the hell away from the woman he is currently eye-fucking. Jay would have a shit hemorrhage if Dirty even considered getting involved with his baby sister. Not to mention, Dirty is fully aware of what Jay’s capable of and the damage he can inflict. But unfortunately, from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t look like Dirty gives a shit. He hasn’t taken his eyes of Bella since she walked in wearing whatever the hell it is she has on. 

I’ve got all the love in the world for Bella, I’ve known the little pain in the ass for years, but she’s given Jay and me more than our fair share of headaches too. Most of the time she was harmless, funny, sweet in a sarcastic, abrasive way, but that was only if you didn’t set the little spitfire off. I wasn’t sure Jay would agree with me, though. He was the one who had to clean up the messes she made, which meant he probably considered her more than pain in his ass.

In fact, Bella was more trouble than his other two sisters combined with the population of the Colorado State Correctional Facility. She could cause a bar brawl faster than any one of his brothers, I’ve seen it happen more often than I would have liked to. And albeit it’s fucking hilarious to watch her throw down with some guy half her size and win, watching Jay lose his ever loving mind wasn’t my favorite past time. Hence, Dirty needing to watch his back.

“Really, B?” Jay growled, turning his scowl on her. “That’s what you decided to wear tonight? Have you lost your fucking mind? I’m going to be beating the shit out of most of the assholes in here with you dressed like that,” he states seriously. Shaking his head, he asks, “Can’t you wear a fucking full-body cover-all or something? You know, like the one’s Boss has in the garage.”

In the background, I hear Dirty grunt his agreement. For a while now I’ve sensed that Dirty’s harboring feelings for Bella. I’m not sure how deep they go or how long he’s been interested, but I know there’s no chance this won’t end in bloodshed. Probably his. He hadn’t said anything, but he doesn’t need to. The way he watches her, seething with jealousy when other men pay attention to her was enough to confirm it for me. Dirty was most definitely in over his head, gone, for the woman.

Out of nowhere, Bella throws her head back, laughing at her brother’s request.

“Um, fuck no, I can’t wear a coverall. What the hell is wrong with you? This outfit is awesome,” she exclaims gesturing to the tiny band of fabric parading as a skirt. “Shove over, Jay,” if wasn’t a request seeing as her as is half in his lap before he can move aside, but, at least, she asked this time.

“I feel like my feet have been molested by hedgehogs. These boots are kicking my ass, not the other way around,” she sighs dramatically. But that’s Bella. All drama. All the time. “I’m probably not as bad off as Beth, though. I don’t even know how she can stand in those things, let alone walk half a mile in them over there, though.”

It was then I thanked all that was holy I’d sat at the end of our booth tonight. It wasn’t usual, it wasn’t a popular decision, but I was glad for it. Now, I got to sit next to the gorgeous woman who had my pulse and my dick rising on sight.

“Come here and sit down Sweetheart,” I demanded.

Thankfully, Beth didn’t need to be told twice.

“Oh, yes,” she groaned low in the back of her throat as she perched herself beside me.

And that’s all it took. Great. Fantastic. Fucking incredible. Now my cock was straining so hard against my leathers I’d be a miracle if I didn’t have to soak myself out of them. The sound of that voice, her voice, moaning like that did shit to him. Visible shit if she looked down, which I hoped she didn’t.

Pointing at Bella, waggling her finger, Beth states,

“I’m telling you, you’re definitely on to something wearing cowboy boots, Bella. I think I’m going to invest in at least twenty pairs to replace these suckers,” she finishes sticking her foot out to illustrate the point.

“So, what can we get you ladies to drink?” Dirty piped up from a couple of seats away.

He was still eyeing Bella a little too appreciatively if you ask me, so I lowered my voice ensuring he was the only one who’d hear and growled,

“I’ll only warn you once, brother. Get your eyes off Jay’s sister if you know what’s good for you, and get Sherri over here for a refresh.” Dirty might have averted his gaze at the command of his President, but he did it clenching his jaw, which did not signal good things.

“So sexy bikers and brother, what do you guys have planned for the rest of your night?” Bella chimed breaking the tension.

“I know what we’re not doing,” Jay grumbles narrowing his eyes at her. “We’re not breaking up any bar fights. Because I swear on your fucking boot collection Bella, if you start anything tonight I’m leaving your ass here this time. Mark my words little sister,” he grinds out, “I’m not getting any more stitches or capped teeth because you get a bug up your ass and feel the need to stick up for your fellow womankind.” Beth giggled her hot little ass off at Jay’s declaration, and dammit if that didn’t make me even harder.

Bella snorts at him derisively, patting his shoulder with mock reassurance.

“Promise. Cross my heart, I will
not
cause, instigate, provoke, or cheer on any bar fighting, hitting, kicking, scratching, knock down drag out bar fights on purpose, if I can help it. Is that good enough for you brother dearest?” She asks batting her eyelashes at him.

At her fake sincerity, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. She truly is fucking hilarious. I roared with laughter as did the rest of our table, even Diesel had a chuckle at Jay’s expense.

However, Jay wasn’t buying her bullshit promise, fuming,

“For Christs sake! Does any one of you betraying assholes want her because I’m tapping out now? The last time she started shit, Diesel had to drive me to the fuckin emergency dentist to get two new teeth crowned. Some asshole socked me in the fuckin face with a pool cue you pricks, so excuse the hell out of me if I don’t find this shit as funny as you all do. You keep her for a week and we’ll see who’s laughing then, fuckers,” he growls, sitting back in his seat heavily.

Bella makes a pinched face, her anger rising, sticking her tongue out at him.

“I’m not a dog you ask your friends to babysit for a week, Jay. You know that time wasn’t completely my fault,” she reasons. “And, I made you soup and shit for a week after it happened.”