Biker's Claim: A Bad Boy Romance (Demons MC) (Contains bonus book Cocked!) (5 page)

I
woke up
, my head pounding and groggy. It took me a second to realize that I was lying on top of my comforter with a thin blanket spread over top me, my clothes still on.

Then the events of the night came slowly back to me.

I rolled over onto my back and groaned, putting my head in my hands. I was hungover as hell, and everything just seemed horrible in so many ways.

I couldn’t believe I had gotten that wasted in front of Clutch. He had practically carried me up to my room like the silly mess I was. That was probably the most disgraceful I’d acted in a really long time, and Clutch probably had good reason to be annoyed with me.

I groaned again as I remembered calling him a dog of the club. That was a pretty low blow, especially considering I was in the same position as him, more or less.

We both grew up in the club, both owed our lives to it. It wasn’t fair to call him a dog, especially considering I was thinking about doing something as crazy as marrying a complete stranger for the good of the club.

I was such a jerk. And to top it off, I had drunkenly admitted the whole marriage thing to him just as I was passing out. I shook my head, trying to dispel the bad memories, but they were stuck there.

I got up and stripped off my clothes, wanting to rid myself of anything from the night before. I tossed on a thin T-shirt and some old panties and quickly went into the bathroom.

I turned the light on and looked at myself. I was a mess, my makeup smeared and runny, my hair practically a nest of tangles. I brushed my teeth and gargled some mouthwash to try to get the taste of alcohol and shame from my mouth.

And as I slowly cleaned myself up, the memory of what Larkin had asked me to do kept coming back to me.

I didn’t know what I was going to do. I could help end the war, and that would save a lot of lives. But it would cost me my freedom and force me into a marriage with a man I knew nothing about.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Who was I more loyal to, the club or myself? The people who took me in, raised me, protected me, gave me a good life, or my own stupid, selfish self?

Dad had never asked me to do anything for the club ever before. He had never even suggested that I do anything to help out. That should prove in itself how important this marriage would be and how much he cared about me.

That, and the fact that he was willing to murder Jetter just to free me from that marriage.

I sighed and left the bathroom, heading toward the kitchen for some coffee.

“Morning, princess.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Holy shit,” I said, backing up.

Clutch was sitting on the couch, grinning at me. His boots were off and his vest was tossed on a chair. He was holding a mug, and I realized I could smell coffee already.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “Spent the night, obviously.”

I was suddenly very aware of what I was wearing. I had on probably the most unattractive panties I owned and a very thin, very see-through white T-shirt.

And Clutch was staring at me with that delicious, starving look of his.

“I didn’t know you were crashing here,” I said.

“I am your bodyguard after all.” He kicked his feet out. “I’m liking the granny panties.”

I looked down at myself. “Uh, thanks.”

“Really. I would love to tear those off with my teeth.”

“I didn’t know you were here,” I said stupidly.

“You said that already. Go ahead, get some coffee. I’ll just be here admiring that perfect fucking ass of yours.”

I clenched my jaw and quickly walked back into my bedroom. That asshole didn’t have to start the morning like this. I grabbed my robe and tossed it around me, cinching it shut.

I went back out into the kitchen and he chuckled at me. I ignored him as I grabbed a cup of coffee.

“You got wasted last night,” he said.

“Yeah.” I walked over and sat down on a chair. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I get it.”

“Look,” I said, “I should apologize.”

“What for?”

“I said some things last night. Not very nice things.”

He shrugged. “Heard worse.”

I sighed, sipping my coffee. “And about the thing.”

“The thing?” he asked, teasing.

“Yeah. You know, what I told you.”

“About your arranged marriage.”

“Yeah, that thing. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“You have my silence.”

“Thanks.” I finished off my coffee and felt marginally more human but still absolutely mortified. I checked the clock hanging in the kitchen and cursed.

“What?” he asked.

“I have work in a half hour.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Look at you. Such a model employee.”

I stood up, grumbling. “I guess you’re taking me?”

“If you want. I can follow you if you want to drive yourself.”

I was too embarrassed and hungover to argue. “Whatever,” I grumbled, and I walked off to take a shower.

A few minutes later, with the warm water beginning to rinse away some of the shame and awkwardness, I kept coming back to the way Clutch had taken care of me the night before.

I was sure that if he had made a move, I would have given myself to him. Instead, he was a perfect gentleman. Well, no, not exactly a gentleman, but he didn’t try to take advantage of me or anything like that. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I knew his reputation as a ladies’ man. I was happy he didn’t try anything, but also strangely a little annoyed.

It wasn’t like I wanted him to take advantage of me; that was crazy. But I did want him, as much as I hated to admit that, and maybe it would be good if I were drunk the first time. That was stupid of course, and I wasn’t thinking straight.

Without meaning to, I had let Clutch get into my head. All he needed to do was talk a little dirty and give me that look and I was thinking about fucking him while drunk.

I got out of the shower, toweling off. I looked into the mirror and shook my head. What the hell was I thinking? Clutch was just another biker in the Demons, just another guy.

Sure, we had practically grown up together, but we really barely knew each other. I wasn’t about to risk anything with him, not when this marriage thing was hanging over my head. He was just my bodyguard, and that was it.

W
ork dragged painfully slow
.

Like the day before, Clutch sat in a booth and basically watched me. This time he read a book on and off, something about World War II, but he was still a little unnerving.

It was hard to concentrate on my tables, and I made a few mistakes. Between Clutch’s intense gaze and my own mind buzzing about the marriage thing, I wasn’t really sure what I was doing.

And that was on my mind all day. Eight hours of waiting on tables, but really it was eight hours of going back and forth on the whole idea.

Of course an arranged marriage was incredibly outdated and absurd, but in the MC world, stuff like that still happened every once in awhile to cement relationships, just like in the old days. Clubs were basically very conservative groups and sometimes did things that seemed hopelessly backward to other people.

But I understood why this arranged marriage would be important. From Jetter’s perspective, letting his people patch over to the Demons was like signing his own death warrant. He needed something to assure him that he’d continue to live and breathe, and what better than to marry the daughter of the president?

To everyone else, Jetter marrying me only solidified the bonds between the Rebels and the Demons. Patching another, unrelated club over into a bigger club was often a pretty tricky thing. The Rebels and the Demons hadn’t always gotten along, and there was some real bad blood between some of the guys. If I married Jetter, it would help to alleviate some of that stuff, or at least it would solidify the bonds that were tying the two clubs together.

Without the marriage, the patch deal would never happen. I knew it and Dad knew it, which was why he even brought the issue to me to begin with. I was the key to the whole thing, even if I didn’t want to be that key.

And as the weeks passed, the war was heating up. The Snakes were getting more confident in their ability to kill our boys, especially with the Mezcals on their side. The casualties were mounting everywhere, and although it looked like we were winning, that wasn’t guaranteed. Our supply lines to the south were cut off, and we really needed some of the contacts that the Rebels could bring over, not to mention the increased manpower.

In short, the marriage made total sense even if it was completely antiquated, even if it was treating me like a piece of prized cattle to be bought and sold.

My loyalty to the club had never been tested. Most of the guys were asked to do things, violent things, dangerous things, illegal things, and that was how they proved themselves. But me, I just got to hang around without needing to do anything.

This was my chance to show the Demons how much they mattered to me. I knew they’d appreciate it and would understand the sort of sacrifice I was making.

I wanted to do it. I really did. But every time I imagined myself married to a man like Jetter, my stomach turned and fear gripped my whole being.

The day dragged forward, minute by agonizing minute. Clutch watched me, catching my eye from time to time and grinning at me, and I just kept going in circles about the whole thing.

By the time my shift ended, I was exhausted, mentally and physically. I found Clutch sitting in his booth still, working on another cup of coffee.

“You done?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, sitting across from him, “I am.”

“How’d it go? No guys give you shit today?”

“No, none.” I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “Tired.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

Suddenly, something gripped me. I looked at Clutch and felt something, a crazy idea coming over me.

I realized that if I took this marriage plunge, this might be one of my last days of freedom. I had no clue how fast things would move. I could end up married tomorrow if I said yes tonight.

“Take me out,” I said to Clutch.

He raised an eyebrow. “Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “One of those loud college bars. I want to dance and I don’t want to go anywhere near the club.”

He grinned at me. “Now why would I do that?”

“Because I’m going, and you have to protect me.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I do.”

“So take me out.” I got quieter. “I’m not sure how much freedom I’m going to have left.”

He went silent for a second, that serious, brooding look digging into me.

“Okay, princess,” he said. “Let’s go out.”

I
didn’t know
what was going through the girl’s head, but she sure as hell could fucking dance.

Not that I much cared about dancing. Still, there was nothing better than having an ass like Janine’s rubbed up against your cock while you moved to the beat. And I could move with the best of them.

The club was packed and loud. It wasn’t my sort of joint. I preferred something more southern, more honky-tonk and less like a shitty east coast banger. But Janine was making the calls, and I was just following along.

After work, I dropped her at her place, swung by my own to change into fresh clothes, and then picked her up. She came down in these tight black jeans that made her ass look fantastic and this black shirt that showed off just a hint of her fantastic tits, her hair done up. She looked like a fucking sexy biker chick, which was what she was going for.

She directed me to this club and was about to leave when she saw the line, but I knew the bouncer. I got us in without any trouble, and she dragged me right to the dance floor without another word.

My cock was fucking rock hard as she danced with me, our bodies sweating, and she fucking knew it. She felt my length pressed against her and didn’t mind one bit, even seemed to like it. I was betting the girl was soaking wet with every dip and move of her hips.

The place was packed with college kids, probably most of them from the University of Texas. They were hipsters and assholes, preppy douchebags from all over the country. I stuck out but didn’t mind.

And Janine, she was by far the sexiest girl in the room. She made the college chicks look plain and boring compared to her. Janine had had some look in her eye ever since I’d picked her up, some intense stare that drove me fucking wild.

I couldn’t tell what she was thinking about the marriage thing. We hadn’t talked about it since then, and she didn’t seem interested in bringing it up. If she didn’t want to talk, I was fine with just grinding against her sweet fucking ass.

But something was going on. She talked about not having freedom soon. I couldn’t imagine she was going to let herself get married off to Jetter, that fucking Rebel traitor cunt, like some medieval slave or some shit. Janine had more fire than that, more spark. She couldn’t be tamed by some fucking shithead like Jetter.

Maybe there was more going on than I realized. And in that moment, dancing closely with her, our bodies moving together, I found myself not giving a fuck. All I wanted was her sweet ass pressed against my cock, moving to the beat of the music, swaying back and forth.

“You’re the sexiest girl in the fucking place. You know that?” I said into her ear.

She turned her head back toward me, tilting her chin up. “You think so?”

“It’s the damn truth,” I said. “These little girls have nothing on you.”

She smiled. “I believe you. I can feel the proof.”

I grabbed her hips, pulling her ass harder against my cock. “Damn right. You get me fucking rock hard. You know that?”

“Good,” she said, giving me this fucking smile. “Come on. Let’s get a drink.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me off the floor, heading over toward the bar. We waded into the crowd of people and I easily made room for us, parting the little asshole college kids with ease. They didn’t like that, but I didn’t give a fuck and silenced their complaints with a look.

“Whisky,” I called out. “Gin and tonic for the girl.” The bartender nodded and returned with our drinks.

“Thanks,” Janine said, clinking my glass. “Here’s to not getting hammered.”

I laughed, knocking my drink back. “Why not? That’s a bad toast for drinking.”

“Can’t drink like I did last night,” she said, laughing. “I can’t physically do it.”

“I’m sure you can, but whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” she asked, sipping her drink through the little straw. I couldn’t help but see a little suggestive smile in her eyes.

“I’m here to make you happy,” I said. “It’s my job.”

“How are you going to make me happy, Clutch?”

“I’ll start by getting you back on that dance floor and making you nice and tired.”

“Work me hard?” she asked.

“That’s right,” I said. “I’ll take you wherever you want. Tonight you’re free.”

“Yeah,” she said, “I’m free.” She put her drink back down on the bar and took my hand, pulling me back toward the dance floor.

This time, we danced face to face, bodies pressed close, her arms around my neck. Her eyes were locked on mine, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze roam along her body as she danced.

I’d never felt so much fucking tension for a woman before. Normally I knew what I was going to get, had no fucking trouble picking a woman out and getting her into my bed. But with Janine, I knew I couldn’t do that. Even if she wanted me and I wanted her, we both knew that she was forbidden. She was way off-limits, and there was no turning back.

Besides, I had a feeling she was just acting out because of the whole wedding thing. Not that I fucking minded, but I wasn’t interested in getting a girl in bed if she didn’t really want it.

I needed her dripping and begging for it first. I wouldn’t touch her before she was practically moaning my name.

We danced like that for what felt like an hour. Finally, she pulled me back off the dance floor and we waded back to the bar. We got another quick drink and then she turned toward me.

“I’ll be back!” she called over the music.

“Can’t let you out of my sight,” I said.

“Want to come into the ladies’ room with me?” she asked.

“I would love that,” I said. “Get you moaning in the stall.”

She just shook her head and walked off. I watched her go over the heads the crowd and saw her disappear into the bathroom.

I got another whisky and looked around. It was getting late, and the place was packed with hammered drunk douchebags out looking for their next date-rape victim. I could still feel my cock, hard and pulsing in my jeans, and I scanned the room, looking for Janine.

I didn’t spot her, so I downed my drink and got another. A few more minutes passed as I got the next glass of whisky, and Janine still wasn’t back.

Grumbling, I rolled through the crowd toward the bathroom. My mind was running through a list of possibilities, from finding her dead on the floor to realizing that she had ditched me and run off.

I could feel anxiety take my gut, and I moved fast closer to the bathrooms. I had to make sure she was okay, couldn’t fail in keeping her safe. I wasn’t the kind of man to fuck up like that.

As I moved down the hall, I spotted her just ahead. She was standing near three asshole college kids, their preppy clothes marking them as total dickheads. She was frowning and talking, and I could tell something was wrong as I got closer.

“Come on, baby,” the one guy said. “Just a drink. You look like you need one.”

“I said I wasn’t interested,” Janine said.

“We can make you interested,” the other guy said.

I loomed up behind them and Janine spotted me. “Clutch,” she said.

The three guys turned to look at me.

“There a problem here?” I asked.

“No problem, you fucking goon,” the leader said, grinning at me. “This bitch was just leaving.”

“What did you say?” I asked him.

“Clutch, come on,” Janine said, pushing past the guys and trying to pull me away.

“Yeah, go ahead. Take your dry cunt slut away from here,” the kid said, “you fucking lowlife.”

His two friends laughed and high fived.

I stepped forward and slugged my fist into the kid’s jaw. He barely had time to flinch before I knocked him down. He dropped to the ground.

His two friends came at me. I ducked the first punch and came up with an uppercut to the second guy’s chin. He stumbled back as I turned, catching the fist that was heading toward my face, and twisted the guy’s wrist.

I kicked his knee, dropping him down, and then let his wrist go. I slammed my fist into his face, knocking him flat down.

The guy I uppercut punched me in the head from behind. I stumbled, still holding on to my whisky glass with my left hand. I spun around, ducking another punch, and stepped in to elbow him in the nose. He dropped to the ground, his face bleeding, his nose broken.

I knocked back my whisky, proud that I hadn’t spilled a drop.

“Come on,” Janine said, pulling me away.

“Later, boys,” I said.

She led me away as a crowd was forming around us. The fight hadn’t lasted more than fifteen seconds, and people were just figuring out what had happened.

I deposited my empty glass on a table as Janine yanked me out the front door. I waved to my bouncer friend with a grin; he’d never be letting me back in, which was fine with me.

“Why did you do that?” Janine said, rounding on me in the parking lot.

“They insulted you,” I said, “and I’m your bodyguard.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me like that.”

She stepped close to me, her lips hanging open, anger rolling off her.

“Sure you do, princess,” I said. “It’s what I’m good for.”

“Yeah, and that’s it.”

“No, not just that.” I grabbed her hips, pulling her against me. She didn’t fight it. “I’m good for a few other things, too.”

“Clutch,” she said, my name barely a whisper.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you until you scream my name right here in the parking lot and I’ll let you go.”

She didn’t say a word.

I crushed my mouth against hers, kissing her hard. She threw her arms around me, pressing her perfect body against mine, returning the kiss.

Fire burned through my veins, my cock raging hard again as we kissed. Her lips were perfect, her tongue soft against mine, her taste filling my mouth. I kissed her hard in the parking lot, and in the back of my mind I knew I was making a mistake.

But it was a delicious fucking mistake.

Slowly she pulled away, her mouth open, breathing deeply.

“Take me home,” she said.

I nodded once and got onto the bike. She climbed on behind me, wrapping her arms tightly around me as I pulled out into traffic.

I rode hard back toward her apartment, my heart beating hard. I knew what I wanted, and I knew she wanted it too. It was wrong, a betrayal of our club, but I couldn’t help it, not after the way she kissed me back, hungry and passionate.

We got off the bike and quickly went up the stairs. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. I followed her in and she shut the door behind me.

I stepped toward her. She pressed her back against the door and stared at me with these eyes like lightning, needy and hard.

“Wait,” she said as I got close. “Wait.”

“I’m not patient,” I said. “I take what I want.”

“Listen to me, Clutch.” She held her hands up, and I saw something shift inside her, some subtle thing that made all the difference. “We can’t.”

“Why? Give me a good reason. I know you want this.”

“I’m going to marry him. I’m going to marry Jetter.”

I stopped in my tracks, staring at her. She looked back defiantly, but I could see it there in her eyes. She wasn’t fucking lying.

She was really going to marry the scumbag.

“Okay,” I said and stepped back. “Tonight is about what you want.”

“Clutch,” she said.

“I’m crashing on your couch again,” I said, “until Larkin tells me otherwise.”

“Fine.” She looked away from me.

I walked over and sat down, putting the television on. I could feel her lingering back toward the door for a second before disappearing into her room.

“Fuck,” I said softly to myself.

She was really going through with it. I never imagined for a second that she’d actually do it.

She was really going to marry that traitor fuck, all for the good of the club.