Never Kiss an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (17 page)

“Goddamn!”

Several brothers bellowed at once, laughter and shock filling up the room. Joker's knife slammed into the table, adding one more gouge to his spot, already knifed to kingdom come. Bingo sat up and barked, cutting through the commotion. We all piped down as the Veep stood, ruffling Bingo's furry head with one hand.

“Fuck, and they call me crazy,” he said, giving me an ice cold look. “You're gonna lose your dick when the Prez finds out.”

“Then we'd better move fast. I plan on keeping my pisser. Dust'll be mighty forgiving when he finds out we've mopped up the Atlanta assholes while he's laid out in recovery. Besides, this shit goes deeper than just keeping her safe and cleaning up this fuckin' heap. Cora and me, we're together now. For real.”

Sixty grinned, his goattee twitching. “You poor bastard. You sure you're ready to be a
married
fucking man?”

“I'm more worried about her,” Skin growled, the long scar on his cheek catching the light. “She has to want this, brother. She doesn't, I'm gonna make damned sure she's got an out the instant we've got the Torches' guts smeared across the Smokies.”

“She will,” I said, giving him a look from hell. Bastard was probably bent out of shape because he'd been the first brother engaged to his old lady, and now I'd beat him to the altar. “Cora wants me. She needs me. She's fuckin' suffered for everything she's got, and I'm gonna make sure she never has to do it again.”

“Whatever, bro. Joker's right. It's your cock on the line.” Sixty laughed, and Bingo barked again.

“You heard him. Church adjourned,” Joker said, slamming the Prez's gavel down on hard wood. “Report back when you've got this shit in motion.”

I nodded, ready as hell to head out and do what I had to do. Saving the club and killing all the Torches was gonna be easy as a run through the Tri-Cities, if I kept this manic energy going.

Getting Cora to go along with it, a little harder.

I'd find a way. Lived my whole life just drifting by like a fucking zombie. Only way I thought I could live after the shit I'd seen overseas. Men dying, villages burning, mass graves of poor sorry bastards killed in cold blood by terrorist fucks. We'd always stumble on that shit whenever we got too deep in the killing.

No man fit easy in civvie life after being on a battlefield. It stayed with him, made him wild, stole his soul and all his drive for anything except the next adrenaline fix.

Drinking, boozing, chasing down pussy to keep me company for just one night.

Before Cora, pussy never got to my head. It was something to fuck, something to feel wrapped around every throbbing inch of me, good for just a shot or two. No different than what I did when I hit the bottle.

Before Cora, I couldn't have dreamed about chasing down pussy for more than just a fuck. Owning a woman past more than the pink was as alien as the big yellow moon in the sky.

Now, I craved it. I wanted it so bad I could feel it smoking in my veins like fire.

I need her. Bad. Needed to keep her. It fuckin' scared me.

Every brother sharing my patch knew how I fought. The unlucky motherfuckers who'd been on the receiving end of my fists, my shots, or my matches and kerosene knew I
never
backed down. I never winced. I never quit 'til I'd buried the bastards lined up against me and my club alive.

Fighting, killing, torturing...none of that shit raised a single hair on my neck.

Cora, on the other hand...my life after Cora...what the
hell
did that look like? Not a damned clue, but I wanted it.

I rode hard through town, heading for my girl. I could taste her on my lips already, feel her soft gold hair in my hands as they gripped my bike's handlebars.

Before, this free life of blazing down the road and setting panties on fire while I bombed my guts with booze was plenty.

I still wanted some of that – the riding, the freedom, the fresh mountain air sucked between my teeth. But it didn't hold a flame against my screaming need to see my brand on her ass while she called me her old man.

I'd own this girl. I'd make it work, however many fucks I had to fight.

I'd have it all, everything I'd dreamed about, coming into reach. Or I'd be dead.

“H
ere.” Tawny pushed crumpled cash into my hands, wiping the last beads of sweat off her brow.

“Thanks. Go get yourself some water.” I smiled, stuffing the bills into my special binder for Meg, before I carted them back to the safe in her office.

The stripper nodded, turned around, and scurried away. I swore she stopped just short of a salute.

They never even tested me anymore. The brush with Tony had only fed the legend. Several girls saw Firefly pounce at just the right time. Now, everybody feared dealing with him, if they took a jab at me.

Sweet victory,
I thought, an extra spring in my step as I sat down for accounting.

In the office, I did a quick tally of everything I'd collected this shift. My mouth dropped open when Tawny's tips took it over thirty five hundred.

A new record for my shift!

“Hey, babe.” Firefly chose the best timing in the world to walk through the door. Rather, his huge, rock hard body stopped and filled the entire frame, resting his hands on the sides.

“You're just in time!” And I meant it. I got up, ran to him, and threw my arms around his gorgeous neck.

We kissed. So hard, hot, and sticky I thought he'd kick the door shut and take me right there.

Honestly, I wouldn't have resisted, so high on success I'd let him have anything, anywhere.

The unimaginable was happening. The club got richer thanks to me. I'd found something I was actually good at. Hauling in this kind of cash every night told me that maybe this life wasn't so strange after all – and just maybe, I could make it.

“Fuck, you taste good. What's all that for?” he asked, breaking the kiss reluctantly. His strong hands held on to me.

“I'm happy to see you, silly. It's been a great night for money. Meg and Skin are going to be
really
happy.”

He grunted. “Yeah, Skinny boy can use some of that shit after the kinda day we've had.”

I looked at him and cocked my head. He didn't elaborate.

Instead, he pushed me gently inside, shut the door, and sat in the chair across from Meg's desk. The normal office chair looked tiny with him filling it, and I couldn't help but smile.

It was either that, or think about everything that mountain he called a body did to me.

“Finish up. We've gotta hit the road.”

“Okay! We should stop by the store later. I'd like to pick up a few things for the place, especially now that we're both getting settled in.”

I didn't notice his face had darkened until I looked up. Those soft blue eyes were like icy stones. He had the same stare as the one when he'd knocked out Tony Pearson the other night.

“That's gonna have to wait, babe. We're staying at my sister's place for the next week or two, or however the fuck long it takes to wrap up important club biz.”

My fingers came to a dead stop on Meg's keyboard, logging the day's profits on the spreadsheet.
What?!

“Sister? I didn't even know you had one! What business? What are you talking about, Firefly?”

“All the boys got into a bad fight with the Torches today. They came here, pissed off about your old man, looking for you. Prez shrugged them the fuck off. They tucked their tails and ran, but that shit won't last long. They're dangerous. Outta control. They'll be back. Means we're gonna deal with 'em on our own terms..”

“But I mean...our place...” I looked down at the dusty computer screen, my heart sinking. “Jesus, my work here...”

“Meg'll hear it soon. She'll work around it, have somebody cover your shifts 'til hell blows over. God willing, you'll only be outta commission for a little while.” He stood, crossed the small space to my desk, and put his hands down flat, gazing straight into my eyes. “No bullshitting, babe. I'm trying to save your life.”

I wanted to cry. Just when I'd started to relax, feel at home with him, and this strange, dirty underworld...

“What's the plan?” I said softly, wondering if I even wanted to know.

“Like I said, my sis is giving us her place for the next week or two. Hannah's a hotshot traveler for the banks, spends half the fuckin' year over in Switzerland or the Virgins or some shit. Her house is nice. Lot bigger than the apartment.”

His teeth clenched when he said the last part. I came up behind him, and laid my hand softly on his shoulders. Thought it was just because there was a gaping hole between him and his sister, and he'd let me in on it, in his own little way.

“There's more, darlin'. We're not just hiding the fuck out 'til this all blows over. I gotta be honest. Can't lie to you.”

I looked at him, narrowing my eyes. For the millionth time since I'd been thrown into all of this, my heart raced, thumping along with a steady, revving tempo, ready to tear me in two.

“I can't take the mystery here. Tell me.”

“No. I'll show you. Come on.” He grabbed my hand, rough and insistent.

Before I knew what was happening, we were leaving the office. Firefly pulled me toward the curtain. I started dragging my feet – what the hell was he doing? Didn't he know they were right in the middle of Honey-Bee's late night act?

“Firefly, no!” There wasn't any stopping him.

He was too strong, too persistent, and the lights blinded me the second we stepped out on stage. Huge, glaring spotlights and neon red would've wrecked anyone's eyesight after spending eight hours in the gloomy blackness backstage.

The music came to a screeching halt. Honey-Bee swung from a giant sling above us, wearing nothing except tall white heels and those fake crystal angel wings she always slipped on before her act. She looked down on us, totally confused, a ball of feathers in her hand she'd been ready to blow to the horny men as part of her tease.

Then the catcalls started.

“Take it the fuck off, baby! All the waaaay!”

“What the hell's this big biker asswipe doin' on stage? Didn't know this place was licensed for hardcore fuck shows...”

“Honey-Beee!”

I pushed myself into him, desperately pushing my nails into his neck, holding his eyes. “Firefly – please! We can't be out here.”

“No, babe. Keep breathing. I've got something for you.”

He reached into his pocket. His hand took mine, held it up, and I watched the bright gold ring in the club's bright lights slide onto my finger as he shoved it in place.

“Everybody listen up!” Firefly boomed, roaring through the crowd. When he spoke, their chatter stopped, like a hurricane silencing the ocean. “Came out here tonight to let ya'll know I'm claiming this girl. Cora Chase is about to be the best goddamned old lady a man could ever ask for, and an even better wife. One round for everybody on me!”

The crowd erupted, hooting and hollering. The few lone women stuffed between the clammy, horny bastards screamed like they'd just won the lottery. Free booze meant the world to old bar flies so desperate for booze they came here with their husbands just to drink.

Hell, I wanted to join them. I could've used a tall, stiff drink right now. Maybe ten of them.

The entire club blurred. I couldn't follow what was happening. That ring around my finger felt like a leash, a noose, a choke point trying to smother my whole world for the second time in a month.

“Crank the fuckin' music up when I'm done,” Firefly growled, grinning to the crowd, still holding up the new ring on my hand triumphantly with his. “Play something sappy and loud about love, I don't give a shit, DJ. I just want this whole fuckin' town to know that Cora's Property of Firefly now. I'm gonna love her, keep her, and never, ever let her go.”

The crowd exploded. Firefly moved in, pulling me to his chest. His tight arms around my waist were just about the only thing stopping me from passing out.

“Kiss me, baby girl,” he whispered in my ear. “Meant every fuckin' word I just said here, Cora. This is about protecting you, yeah, but it's more than that. Don't expect you to understand. Don't care if you ever do. You're mine now, babe. Forever.”

Too much. Too soon.
Too crazy.

No mistake. This was
CRAZY!

I tried to claw him, to scream, but I couldn't do anything when the bass started blasting through the club. Honey-Bee chirped happily above us, shouting down congratulations, showering us in huge handfuls of cheap feathers like snow.

His lips moved up my neck. Rage, confusion, and desire wrestled like snakes inside me, making my skin crawl until I swooned.

He held me, kept me from collapsing. Our eyes locked, and those dark, blue seas in his face held a thousand wild promises.

I didn't know what to do. Didn't know if I'd step out of here without having a heart attack.

Then the gorgeous lunatic pulled me toward him, burying his lips against mine. I sank into his kiss and bit him. Hard.

Firefly never took his mouth off mine until he decided it was finally time to move. Not even when I tasted his blood.

* * * *

E
ventually, the delirium on stage swept me away. At first, I thought I'd passed out, and he'd carried me to the small, dingy church just outside Knoxville. But then, if I was unconscious, I couldn't have ridden with him on his bike, draped around him like a ragdoll, clinging tight to him through the sharp turns he took on those high mountain roads.

“This wasn't the way I wanted this shit to go down, darlin'. It'll have to do. Ain't no time to throw you in lily white and invite all your friends and family. It'll be a small ceremony. We'll make up for it in all the years to come. Do bigger bashes when we renew our vows.”

“You're...you're out of your mind,” I whispered, trying not to stumble as he led me up the steps.

I was still woozy from the ride in. My brain temporarily shut down, processing the latest trauma.

God. How could he do this to me?

Nothing about this made sense. Well, maybe the part about keeping me safe, but did it really take this to do it? Marriage?