Lucifer’s Fury (A Motorcycle Club Romance) (12 page)

The whimper that met my ears was like sweet sinful music.

Leaning forward, my body pressed against hers, I kissed the nape of her neck and sunk my teeth into her shoulder.

“Oh my God, Jasper. Fuck,” she cried out.

Her sweet little ass was bare but for a tiny scrap of lace. It was a glorious sight but I wanted her bare to me. Grabbing the tiny strands of lace at her hips, I ripped them from her body. The thin lace material fell to the floor forgotten. The growl of my zipper filled the quiet room, melding with Lola’s panting breaths and soft whimpers as I stroked my cock.

Her sweet little pussy gripped my cock as I thrust into her heated core, her hands moving across the desk, stretching her arms out to grip the far edge, holding herself in place as I drove into her at a punishing pace. She cried out my name over and over again as her sweet little pussy strangled my cock, milking it as her muscles quivered with each thrust. Fuck! She was still so damn tight.

My balls tightened, that familiar burning heat in the base of my spine pulsing, radiating up and down my spine. I was so damn close and I wanted her to fall over the edge with me.

She moaned and cried out as I raised her leg, placing a knee on the desk. The change in position allowed me to strike deeper, hitting that sweet g-spot perfectly. She screamed and pushed back against me, her tight little pussy squeezing my cock like a vice as she burst with pleasure. With a few more deep pumps, I was right there with her, filling her with my cum.

“Damn,” she groaned, her body trembling. “So good, baby.”

“It always will be, doll.”

Chapter 13: Tonya

“Fucking bitch! I’ll show her. Come in here like she’s some kind of royalty.” I stomped across the clubhouse parking lot to my beat-up truck.

Tossing my bag across the cab before climbing in and jamming the key in the ignition, I pulled out my phone. With a few swipes of the screen I had my contacts up and found the name I was looking for. I stabbed the name with my finger and seconds later, the line was ringing.

“Speak,” a familiar male voice growled into the line.

“It’s me. Everything is going as planned. I’m packed and heading your way now.”

“That’s good news. And the merge? Is it happening?” the man asked.

“I’m not sure. They’re keeping it close to the vest,” I said in a pissed-off voice. “I’d say it is but if you’re not an officer you wouldn’t know shit. No one is talking about it if it is.”

“Come on home then.”

“Sure thing. Missed you so much, brother. I’ll be home soon.”

Turning the key, the engine roared to life. I slammed down the gas pedal and peeled out of the Lucifer’s Fury clubhouse parking lot, tires screeching as I hit the highway. In an hour, I’d be back at home with my real family. And Lola Easton would be sorry. Not just for every punch she threw my way, but for breathing.

A few years ago, I showed up at the door of the Lucifer’s Fury clubhouse with a half-cocked story about being the long-lost daughter of founder and ex-president Lucifer Easton, Lola’s father. There was no real way to prove or disprove my story but they let me stay anyway. Stupid fucks.

The only person who questioned the validity of my story was that silent and deadly asshole, Suicide, but I just kept my distance from him. They all should have listened to the big burly bastard, though. They’d regret that soon enough. Now I knew how they operated and that was going to be their downfall.

Suicide was right all along. I wasn’t Lucifer Easton’s daughter – and thank fuck for that – but my foster brother, Scarface, is his blood. And he wants what is rightfully his. He’ll shed blood to get it, too. Lola’s for sure. I couldn’t wait to see her blood pour from her body, all while Blaze watched. It would serve him right for taking what didn’t belong to him.

Scarface will see to that and he’ll take Lucifer’s Fury and make it better than Blaze ever could. Oh the things Scarface and I will change about that club. I couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces when the Twisted Bastards rolled in and took what they wanted.

Chapter 14: Blaze

The entire club was out on a weekend ride, the sun blazing hot on our backs. Everyone was having a damn good time. We pulled off the road at a rundown bar in the middle of God’s nowhere to stretch our legs. It was one of our usual weekend rides, taking us deep into the Texas countryside, and this bar, Tiny’s Tavern, was one of our favorite pit stops.

Tiny was one of the original members of Lucifer’s Fury, but he lost one of his legs when he laid his bike down. Being he could no longer ride, he cut ties and opened up this hole-in-the-wall bar. We made frequent stops, giving him a little business here and there, to help the old guy and his family out.

It was sweltering outside today and I was sweating like a whore in church. We all rolled in, parked our bikes, and headed inside to wet our whistles. The merge talks were becoming more serious between Lola and I so it was definitely going to happen soon.

The logistics of the merge, like officer positions and such, still needed to be ironed out but we were getting closer to having an official meeting. Right now, though, we were all about enjoying each other’s company, and later tonight we’d have one hell of a party.

On my way to the door, I caught sight of a few dozen bikes parked along the side of the tree line. Suicide and Big Brass were two steps behind me, and from the looks on their faces, they noticed too.

“Looks like Tiny is getting a bit popular.” I said.

My comment attracted a few grunts but that was enough to let me know the guys were on their toes and ready for trouble.

The screen door creaked something awful – like nails on a damned chalk board – as I pulled it open. Lola was by my side, dressed in full-on leather, her long black hair in a thick braid down the center of her back, her pants riding low on her hips, revealing the property tattoo.

Every time I saw that ink, I remembered her reason for getting it and it cut me deep. I reached down and patted the front pocket of my jeans, feeling the small circular shape, smiling like a fool.

I glanced over at Lola, taking her in from the bandana wrapped around the crown of her head to those sexy-as-sin high-heel boots. Her small leather top barely covered more than a damn bra, but to me, the best part of her entire look today was her pants. riding just low enough that any rider behind her could see the Lucifer’s Fury property tattoo high on her left hip and my name in bold cursive text for all the fucking world to see.

Mine.

She was finally mine.

It was damned beautiful, my name on her flesh. Every rider I caught gazing her direction for longer than a cursory look got one hell of a death glare from me. If it had been some random guy, I’d probably snap his goddamn neck in a heartbeat, but it was just our big family having some fun.

I couldn’t keep my eyes of my girl.

And she was
my
girl.

We didn’t make it five steps inside the bar before we caught sight of the owners of the bikes outside and my stomach turned. Lola’s breath caught and I didn’t miss the low heady growl coming from Cherry Pie and Siren.

These girls were kickass. Suicide had mentioned to me once that they could throw down, and over the last few weeks, I’d had the chance to see it firsthand. They were hardcore and didn’t hold back with each other. Some of my guys had even stepped in the ring with them and were shocked to find it wasn’t easy to beat them.

A big guy with an angry scar across half of his face stood and headed our way. He had to be the latest president, a couple of younger men following along behind him like puppy dogs trailing after their master.

Ignoring the approaching pricks, we turned and headed to the bar, allowing the rest of our crew inside to find a seat. We were fifty-plus strong today so I didn’t think anything would go down. We were all packing, too, so we were ready if something did go down.

“Hello there, Tiny,” I said cheerfully to the old man behind the bar. “Long time no see, brother. How are things?”

“Too right, brother.” He nodded to the back of the bar and lowered his voice to a whisper. “That crew has been in here all day, asking questions about both of your crews.”

Not surprising.

“Hi, Tiny,” Lola said, adjusting her cut. “It’s been too damn long.”

Tiny’s eyes dropped to her cut and he smiled. “Your old man was a damn fool girl. Should have slapped a Lucifer’s Fury patch on you and made a damn statement… but I hear Jasper is a forward thinker.”

I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her against me.

“So, Pandora, huh? Is there a story behind that?” Tiny asked.

“Nope. Just the usual shit from the past… but that’s behind me now.” She leaned over and kissed me.

“Good. So what are you guys drinking today?”

“Just a couple of ice-cold beers will do,” I said. “Then we’re back on the road again… unless these guys are giving you problems. We could hang a bit longer.”

Tiny smirked. “I can handle those assholes. No worries.”

We grabbed our beers and got to enjoy exactly one refreshing gulp before our good day went to shit.

“Since when does Lucifer’s Fury allow pussy to patch in?” the deep scratchy voice of a long-time smoker asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.

I turned to see a guy with a face to match the smell of his breath standing two feet away from my bar stool. He wore a black leather vest with a shiny new president patch and the road name Scarface. At least his name fit him well.

“You should be thanking the ladies for helping your sorry ass become President,” I said. “I mean, hell, if it wasn’t for them, you’d still be jerking on your cock and waiting your turn.”

Pandora smirked. Cherry Pie and Siren burst out laughing.

Siren stepped forward with a smile so sweet it would rot your teeth. She was short – barely an inch over five feet – but she had spent the last week hanging around Suicide, and as far as Warlords went, she could handle her own. If Suicide was impressed then that alone spoke volumes.

With a sultry voice, Siren eased in front of Scarface, looked him up and down, and then chuckled. “You know, I thought I recognized you from across the bar. My mistake.” She tilted her head to the side, taking in his buddies before returning her gaze to the man before her. I didn’t know what she was playing at but Suicide had stepped closer to her and was edging Pandora and I back a little.

I looked over at Pandora, who had remained silent but had a wicked mischievous grin on her face. She’d obviously seen this before.

“You just reminded me of this guy I knew once,” Siren continued. “He thought he was badass enough to take on my girl, Cherry Pie… but as it turned out, he wasn’t. You want to give it a go and end this bullshit between our clubs right now?”

Scarface looked over at the redhead who could pass for a child if it weren’t for her breasts. She was playing with her nails, acting like a sweet butt instead of the badass we all knew her to be. Smooth trick if Scarface fell for it.

Scarface laughter filled the bar. Everyone in the place took notice. “I don’t see why not. No way that little thing can take a grown man down.” He stressed the word ‘thing’ as he gave Cherry Pie a once over, licking his crusty lips.

“All right,” Siren exclaimed, clapping her hands together, her voice filled with excitement. “So let’s be clear about this. The deal is your crew backs off and leaves both our crews alone. You go your way. We go ours. Clean slate and all that shit. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The two shook on the arrangement and we all filed outside, beers in hand, to the parking lot.

Siren and Pandora just snickered like schoolgirls as they crowded around Cherry Pie while she removed her cut and gun, talking low as I approached with Suicide and Big Brass. This was a first for us, and to be honest, we were having a tough time swallowing a woman fighting a man more than twice her size. It just wasn’t right. The girls became quiet as we approached.

“What the hell are you girls doing?” I asked harshly. “That guy is huge and it won’t be a fair fight.” Worry laced my voice like never before.

“It’s all right, Jasper. Trust us. We’ve done this dozens of times and it always works out just fine.”

“Cherry Pie can handle the guy,” Siren piped in. “Trust us. And if they keep the deal we struck then it’s all over and done with. No war. No bloodshed. No deaths for either of our crews. It’s a win-win for us. You’ll see. Just have some faith in us girls. We got this.”

Big Brass stood to the side, arms crossed over his chest, his eye brows drawn together. “He won’t keep his word. You’re doing this for nothing. If she gets hurt then we’re down a soldier when the real fight comes crashing down on us.”

“We’ll see about that. You guys just need to have a little faith,” Cherry Pie said, twisting her red hair into a tight bun on top of her head. “By the way, what happens when a MC President loses a fight and makes their club look weak?”

Oh hell. Was that their plan? “Their club takes them out.” I responded flatly.

“Exactly,” all three girls chirped at the same time.

The parking lot was filled with more than fifty bikers. We were all crowded around in a rough circle, Cherry Pie and Scarface in the center, staring each other down.

Siren walked up to them and clapped her hands. Everyone became quiet. She went over the deal for all to hear and Cherry Pie and Scarface agreed to the terms, bumping fists.

The obvious mismatch between the two fighters was almost comical. Almost. There was no way anyone present could mistake what the fight meant.

Each fighter was checked for weapons. Then the fight began. Cherry Pie bounced around on her feet like a prize fighter. She was fast and light on her feet.

Scarface, on the other hand, was a big bastard, his arms long and powerful. His reach was far better than hers, but he was big and slow. If he hit her, it would be lights out. Game over.

But being big didn’t mean he had a guaranteed win, either, because he was slow as hell and she could use his weight against him. If she could get close enough to take him down.