WOLF: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 4)

WOLF

An Evil Dead MC Story

Nicole James

WOLF

An Evil Dead MC Story

By

Nicole James

Published by Nicole James

Copyright 2015 Nicole James

All Rights Reserved

Cover Art by Viola Estrella

CHAPTER ONE

Wolf sat in the dark in Crystal’s bedroom, waiting for her to come home. He leaned back on the pink striped chair in the corner of a girly bedroom so at odds with the tough tomboy she portrayed herself to be that it made him smile. He knew better. He knew the Crystal who loved to fuck hard, but kiss soft. She was a complicated contradiction. Tough and edgy on the outside, but with a soft side she only showed on occasion, maybe even only showed him.

On more than one occasion, he’d tried to figure out what it was about her that was so different, that affected him on such a primal level. And then it became clear.

She was the only one that understood the beast inside him. And that beast was hard for anyone to understand, and the fact that he’d found someone who did was truly rare. It wasn’t something he could describe to other women he’d been with. Hell, not that he’d tried.

When he was a boy, he once saw a tiger at the zoo, stalking back and forth in its enclosure. Pacing from one end to the other, a well-worn path along the bars. Its haunches rolling with its gait. Back and forth it moved in agitation.

He knew what that agitation felt like. He often felt it growing inside him, that feeling of a pacing cat, wanting out, wanting…
something
.

Whenever that feeling grew inside him until it was clawing at his insides, there was only one thing that had ever satisfied it. One place he went to settle that pacing tiger inside him. One place he
always
went. To Crystal. He’d find himself seeking her out. Every. Single. Time.

Women were all too easy to come by for a member of the Evil Dead MC. And so, he’d tried satisfying that craving with other women. An endless stream of women. None of them ever came close. All roads led him back to her. They always had. Hell, they probably always would.

With her, he’d found something he’d never found with any other woman. And fuck, it wasn’t for lack of trying. But his sexual needs were a little darker than most. He liked to dominate and Crystal liked to be dominated. They clicked. Goddamn, did they ever click. She was the yin to his yang.

Maybe he was more like that big cat than he realized. He’d always heard when cats had sex, the male held the female in place by taking the scruff of her neck in his mouth and pinning her down. Wolf grinned at the thought. He understood that need to dominate.

His mind drifted back months ago to the party at the Evil Dead MC’s clubhouse when everything had started to go wrong,
to the place where it all went off track…

Misty, his flavor of the month, the latest in a long line of strippers from Sonny’s, the strip club that the MC was invested in, had shown up. Crystal had gotten jealous and turned to that newbie, Shane, who was now prospecting for the club. And that had pissed him off and gotten him jealous. Not one to have his face rubbed in it, Wolf had let them both know the power a full-patched member of the Evil Dead MC could wield. He’d walked up and taken Crystal away from Shane, and there wasn’t a damn thing the man could do about it, not against a club member. Not in his own damn clubhouse. He’d dragged Crystal upstairs, corralling her against the wall and showing her just who the hell she belonged to, no matter what games they played with each other.

Their passion had always been explosive with all the fire they both stirred in each other. They fought. They loved. They often ended in a frustrating faceoff, neither giving an inch. Their relationship was a constant battle, a constant push and pull of wills.

He remembered growling down at her that night, “You push me away. I pull you back. That’s our game. That’s always been our game, baby. And what’s more, it’s a game
you
like
. And you know it’s a game
I
love
.”

Later that night, he’d started a fight with Shane, and his club brothers had broken it up. After the brawl, his President and VP had enough and ordered him to cut Crystal loose. He couldn’t blame them. In their eyes he was just jerking her chain, leading her on and treating her like his personal fuck toy, and maybe he had. And it was starting to affect the club

But they didn’t understand the connection he and Crystal had, the intense draw they had to one another. The overwhelming, undeniable pull of animal attraction. The only problem was he wasn’t looking for an ol’ lady or to commit. And that’s what Crystal would be, a commitment. She wouldn’t be like all the other women that he used and cast aside one after the other. He knew that if he ever let himself get serious with her that would be it. It would all be over. Done deal. And that scared the shit out of him. He didn’t know if he could do a real relationship, one where things were expected of him, one where he had to live up to someone else’s expectations.

And then fight night had come around. And Mack’s glorious idea that he and their new prospect, Shane, work it out in the cage. Wolf grinned at the memory. He had beat the crap out of Shane that night, and hadn’t that shown Crystal?

But his satisfaction had been short lived. He and Crystal had lashed out at each other, and it had gotten them nowhere.

And now he was ordered to cut her loose. Impossible. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t leave her be. For Wolf, it was all about the chase. Had always been all about the chase. And maybe that fed into his sexual need to dominate. He didn’t know. And he didn’t give a fuck. Whatever the explanation was, it just
was
. Fuck trying to explain it or understand it.

Wolf loved women. He was good with women. He understood them in a way most men did not. He could talk to them, and more importantly he listened. And he observed. He picked shit up, shit most men missed. He could read women. He knew what made them tick. He’d heard that saying…men were from Mars and women were from Venus. And damn if
that
wasn’t the truth. They thought differently. They communicated differently. Women were emotional, verbal, and analytical. They thought shit through, analyzed the hell out of it…what every word meant, what every action meant. Men thought in terms of action. Men were problem solvers, not usually very good listeners. Women liked closeness and men needed space. Women loved to give advice and men hated taking advice. It meant they weren’t trusted to figure it out for themselves. A woman trusting a man to figure problems out and take care of her meant everything to a man. Why the hell was that so hard for women to fucking understand?

The sound of the door unlocking broke into his thoughts. Crystal was home. And fuck, she’d better be alone. If Shane was with her, he’d kill him. At the very least beat the shit out of him. Hell, if any man was with her…

He heard her footsteps coming down the hall, and then into the room. She flipped the light switch. Nothing. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He’d unscrewed the light bulbs.

He watched her shadowy figure move to the bedside table, and he heard the click as she turned the switch. Nothing.

Wolf smiled. He hadn’t missed that one either.

“What the hell?” he heard her mumble, the only light in the room being the dim light coming from the hall. She moved to the walk-in closet and turned on that light. He’d left that one alone. She began stripping off her clothes, and his eyes slid down her body. She had on a pair of low slung jeans with a big brown belt and a short, tight tank top that left about two inches of skin bare between them. Just enough to tease the hell out of a man. The tank came up and over her head, revealing a black lace bra. She kicked off her boots. Then her hands dropped to her belt and unbuckled it. He watched as she shimmied out of the jeans and put them in the hamper. Her panties matched her bra, and his eyes zeroed in on her ass. Crystal loved expensive lingerie, and they always matched, pretty little sets that were sometimes sexy and sometimes virginal, but always beautiful. He began to get aroused and shifted in the seat to adjust the growing erection in his jeans.

And the goddamn chair creaked.

Shit
.

She whirled around and gasped, her back slamming up against the wall as she stumbled back, her eyes wide as she took in his dark shape in the corner. He was out of the chair and moving toward her in a flash. She darted toward the door, but in two strides he beat her to it, his palm hitting it, slamming it shut as she tried to escape. Grabbing her upper arm, he yanked her around and pushed her up against the wall, pinning her there.

She tried to scream, and his hand slammed down over her mouth. Her wide eyes stared up at him.

“Shh. It’s me, baby.” Her breathing was coming fast with fear and panic, but slowly recognition flickered in her eyes, and she slumped against the wall as he felt the fight slide right out of her. He removed his hand from her mouth.

“Wolf,” she hissed in a relieved voice.

****

One hour earlier…

Crystal wiped down the bar top and glanced around the Evil Dead MC’s clubhouse, a place she’d come to love. It was practically her home away from home. Mack, their president, and Red Dog sat at the end of the bar quietly talking and sipping on their drinks. Cole, their VP, and Crash sat at a table talking. Other than the four of them the place was deserted. She glanced up at the clock behind the bar. Ten past midnight and things were winding down. Crystal was tired and ready to go home. She’d finished stocking the cooler with beer for tomorrow, she’d washed all the glassware, and removed and cleaned all the liquor pourers. Not that the bottles ever lasted long enough for them to get dirty. One thing for certain, this bunch sure went through the booze. But Crystal had always been a bit of a neat freak, which was why she was so good at her job of keeping the clubhouse clean and managing the bar for the club.

Walking over to the corner where Mack and Red Dog sat, she wiped the bar off and tossed some coasters their way.

“A coaster?” Red Dog snorted. “Those are for people who put their drink down.” He flung it like a Frisbee back at her.

“Hey, watch it.”

“Be a doll and hand me that bottle of vodka.” Dog pointed to the shelf behind the bar. Crystal turned to look.

“Which one? Cherry, pineapple, coconut…”

“Christ. Life was a lot simpler when there was only one flavor of vodka.”

“Amen,” Mack agreed.

Crystal grinned. “Pick a flavor, Dog. I want to go home sometime tonight.”

“I’m thinking. I’m thinking.”

She picked a flavor and slammed the bottle down in front of him.

“Well aren’t you just bein’ the worm in my tequila tonight.”

“Dog.” Mack gave him a look.

“What? I don’t try to annoy people; it’s just a gift.” Dog rose up, leaned over the bar and grabbed two shot glasses, then he unscrewed the top and poured them. He slid one to Crystal. “Drink up, cupcake.”

They both lifted their shot glasses and drank. And they both made a face. Dog picked up the bottle and looked at the label. “What the hell flavor did you pick? Cotton Candy? What the…?” He turned to look at Mack. “What the hell are we stocking this shit for?”

Mack chuckled. “The girls like it.”

Dog slid the bottle back at Crystal. “Pick another, shorty.”

She laughed and handed him the cherry.

He grimaced and looked at Mack. “Bet this is gonna taste like cough syrup.”

“Yum,” Mack muttered, sarcastically and watched as Red Dog poured himself and Crystal another shot.

“Dog, the way you drink, you’re going to shorten your life by ten years,” Crystal advised, picking up the shot.

“That’s okay. I just want to live long enough to ride the scooter shopping cart at Walmart.”

Mack spit his drink out, laughing. “Sorry. I just had a visual of you trying to get your giant-ass body in the scooter.”

Crystal giggled, practically snorting her shot out her nose.

“Speaking of Walmart, does anyone else get road rage pushing a cart through that place? Or is it just me?” Mack asked.

Dog looked over at him. “That’s ‘cause you don’t know when to go. The best time is the middle of the night.”

“Is that right?”

“Yup. That’s when you see all the best outfits. Just the other night I yelled at some guy, ‘Hey, dipshit! Shoes do not turn pajamas into pants.’”

Mack chuckled. His phone went off and he pulled it out, looked at the screen and put it to his ear. “Hey, baby.”

Crystal rinsed out her shot glass and then picked up her dishrag and moved around the end of the bar. Red Dog caught her around the waist as she moved past him and pulled her against his side. Then he put her in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles on her head, giving her a classic ‘nuggie’ like big-brothers had tormented kid-sisters with for ages. “Come here, you little spitfire.”

She shoved against him and teased back, “Let me go, you big brute.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a bear hug. “You know I kid, baby-girl. I love you like a sister.”

When he released her, she bumped him with her hip. “I know it, Dog. I love you, too. Isn’t it time you went home to your wife?”