Exquisite Karma (Iron Horse MC Book 4) (2 page)

Marley bit her lower lip and I had to fight my instinctive urge to fix whatever was bothering her. I couldn’t help it; she appeared all of sixteen years old with her very petite body and big brown eyes. You’d never know it by looking at her that she had an almost two-year-old son. She looked good in her modest jean shorts and tight pink “Support your local Iron Horse MC” shirt, but there was still a softness about her that the world hadn’t been able to harden with its cruelty. While she was no longer my assistant, she did take care of my home back in Las Vegas, making sure the main building was take care of. And we had a strong bond, the kind of bond that not even distance could break.

“Okay, I’ll go talk to them.” She bit her lip harder before releasing it with a sigh.

Thinking she was feeling a little shy around all the brothers, I smiled at her. “Do you want me to go with you?”

She shook her head, her dark ponytail swinging behind her. “No. No, I’m okay. There are just a lot of really burly manly men here.”

“Are they making you uncomfortable? I thought I made sure to let everyone know you’re not only my friend, but one of my closest friends, here as Beach’s personal guest, and that I’d slice the ears off anyone who messed with you.”

Marley burst out laughing. “Awww, that’s so sweet of you.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

For a moment her cinnamon brown eyes went distant, then she focused back on me with a huff. “That’s why I can’t get anyone to talk with me.”

“What?”

“I thought something was wrong with me. Any guy I tried to talk to out there acted like I had the plague. They were chatting up the skanks hanging out by the horseshoe pit, but if I looked their way and smiled, they ignored me.” She poked me in the shoulder. “Thanks for the cockblock.”

A couple women snickered around me and Scarlet spoke up. “Honey, if any guy out there is worth his salt, he isn’t going to let threats stop him from talking with you. Might stop him from trying to dip his spoon into your honeypot, but he won’t run away if you strike up a conversation.”

Marley sighed, scooting back as a woman with a tray loaded down with chicken wings hustled past us. “I thought maybe I could end my sexual drought while on vacation. I haven’t been with a guy in over two years. In fact, the last time I had sex, I got pregnant. Kinda puts a damper on the idea of being intimate with anyone. I mean, I have stretch marks now and stuff. Not exactly a hot guy’s version of a dream girl.”

“Bullpucky.” Mouse, Beach’s lovable mom and one of my favorite people on earth, looked up from where she was putting plastic silverware into the containers that would go on the picnic tables. “You’re as cute as a button and no good man is gonna be put off by a little softness or a few marks. Where do you think the term MILF came from? You just keep bein’ you and the right man will snap you up the moment he lays eyes on you.”

“And,” Scarlet added with a grin, “you have DSLs. Those boys don’t stand a chance.”

“What?”

“Dick-sucking lips,” I told my obviously confused friend along with an exaggerated blowjob motion complete with hand action.

Blushing bright red, Marley stuttered out something that I couldn’t hear over the laughter around me. I couldn’t help but feel love for my girls as they easily brought Marley into their fold. Maybe it was because these women were constantly judged by society for being “biker bitches”, but they were some of the most nonjudgmental people I’ve ever met, and once they felt they could trust you, they would bend over backwards to help.

One of the women nearby, an older lady with brassy red hair piled on top of her head and a big smile, spoke up. “It’s a crime a pretty little thing like you doesn’t have a man at home. I’ve seen your boy, he’s adorable, and you’re a good mama. You’re a treasure waiting for the right man to find you, so hold out for a good one. You listen to me, I’ve been married three times and my first two husbands were complete bastards. Don’t settle for anything less than a patch on your back and someone your son can be proud to have as a daddy.”

My friend blinked at her, then hesitantly smiled. “Uh—thank you.”

“Sarah,” Beach’s distinctive voice bellowed from outside. “Come here, woman. Now.”

“Yes,
darling
.” I sighed as I looked around and said in a lower voice, “Good thing he’s hot, ’cause otherwise I’d have shot him a long time ago.”

“My sexy bitch,” Beach bellowed, and I
knew
he knew he was annoying me. “I said bring your tight ass over here.”

All the women erupted into giggles as I visibly twitched. Okay, not all of them, a few sour grapes were still pissy that I was Beach’s old lady, but I paid them no mind. I had better things to think about, like the tanned and toned epitome of biker hotness waiting for me. A little tingle went through me as I anticipated the feeling of his body against mine, of his scent filling me while he held me close. We couldn’t be near each other without touching in some way.

What they didn’t know was that I hadn’t jumped because of his bellow, but because he’d chosen that moment to turn on the vibrator held against my clit by my panties. I had no one but myself to blame for this situation. After all, I was the one who’d been online toy shopping while he was away doing club business, and had bought it for him.

What can I say, Carlos Rodriguez was a complete freak between the sheets, and I loved it.

The vibrator began to pulse gently and I bit back a moan, trying to keep the pleasure off my face. When I’d given the box containing the panties to him this morning, wrapped up all pretty with a bow, he’d given me such a predatory look that I’d been two heartbeats away from saying screw the picnic and screwing him instead. As he’d watched me slip the special black panties on, then position the bullet against my clit, his cock had been pressing against the worn denim of his faded jeans like it was trying to tear through the thick fabric to get to me. The toy combined his love of me in lingerie with something that got me off, so he considered it the perfect gift. I know my man, and the fact that he would have complete control of my arousal made him happy.

Thank goodness, because he was beginning to worry me. Something big was going on and with every passing day, the air of tension and alertness around him grew. Even now, in the middle of a family picnic, I noticed more nomads were visiting us than usual, and they were all watching the property like a bunch of unchained, territorial pit bulls. These guys, for various reasons, didn’t belong to any particular club, but they were still part of Iron Horse. They roamed the land, going where they were needed, and usually fucking someone’s shit up royally while they were there. For sure they were a different breed of biker, the kind that didn’t like to form attachments to anything or anyone, but they loved their president.

I just didn’t know why they were here. Yeah, they all came to visit ’cause we were the national chapterhouse, like bees returning to the hive, but so many of them at once, clearly on alert, sent my Spidey sense tingling. We weren’t in danger quite yet, but the potential hung in the air, gathering around the men like a deepening gloom. Not saying I can see auras like my friend Indigo can, but I felt bad shit coming over the horizon, and couldn’t figure out what form that danger would come in.

Beach carried the burden of the entire MC on his broad and capable shoulders, and he’d pulled away from me a little bit over the past weeks. Nothing major, but enough that I knew he was getting trapped in his own head. If he didn’t give his mind at least a little bit of rest he was going to break, and there was no way in hell I was going to let the happen.

I’d grown used to my loving, attentive man over the past ten months and I hated seeing him stressed out like this. The only way I could seem to reach him was physically, and if that’s what it took then I had no qualms about seducing my man. It was only after a good round of rough sex that he would calm down enough to untie me and make love to me. If he was feeling particularly feisty that night, he might make me sleep next to him with our wrists bound together by sheep-skin-lined cuffs. Most women would balk at that, but I understood his need to make sure I was safe by his side even in sleep, that I wouldn’t be taken from him when he was most vulnerable. It was kind of sweet in a slightly stalker-esque way.

The low hum of the vibrator sent tingles through me and I could just imagine the smirk on Beach’s slightly weathered face.

I lifted my hand against the glare of the sun, my eyes taking a moment to adjust after the dimness of the kitchen. The shouts of children and men’s booming laughter filled the air, and I fought to keep from smiling when I spotted Beach standing tall and proud with a group of rough guys. I noticed that his attention was now totally on me and couldn’t help the big grin that curved my lips. Tingles that had less to do with the vibrator and more to do with the insane chemistry between us sparked to life in my belly.

Never in my life had I been this content, this secure, and this happy. All because of an outlaw biker with eyes as dark as the deepest sapphire. He raised a brow, as if asking why I was just standing there, and I started moving again, refusing to admit to myself that he affected me as much as he did.

Thanks to all the recent rain, the grass was a thick, lush green and a group of young boys were barefoot, running through it while they played with bubbles and toy trucks. Beach assigned the Prospects with yard duty and had them literally crawling through the play area for the really young kids on their hands and knees, picking up anything that could go into a curious toddlers mouth. That was Beach, always looking out for his people in ways I’d never even think of.

A few people called my name, but I gave them a smile and a small wave, letting them know I’d talk to them later.

Much later.

As in after-I-fucked-the-shit-out-of-my-man-or-vice-versa later. He’d been gone so much lately, flying across the US to visit different clubs, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was all about. Not that I’d pushed him much. Truly, I was better off not knowing some of the things Beach did on a daily basis, and I was okay with that. I just wished he could confide in me a little more so I could help ease the pressure on him. Yeah, I supported him whenever and wherever I could at the clubhouse, but I wish he could see what an asset I could be helping out with the business aspects of the club as well. But nooooo. I was a girl, and girls couldn’t possibly understand the oh-so-complicated work the menfolk did.

Stupid bikers.

If Beach wasn’t so hot, I’d flick his balls for being a macho pig.

Today my man wore a clean white t-shirt under his cut that displayed his bunching, tattooed biceps, flexing nicely as he raised his beer and took a drink. I wanted to taste the beer on his tongue, smell the sun on his skin. His usual and ever-changing posse of men circled around their president, all of their eyes on me as I strutted across the backyard, the black spangles on my new Dior sandals twinkling with my every step. They were a gift from Beach, and I admit I might have squealed when I saw them. I couldn’t help it, with their pale pink sole that had a pearl-like shimmer, they were so pretty, any woman would have gone a little starry eyed.

Beach had certainly enjoyed the stellar blow job he’d received as thanks for the extravagant gift.

He’d liked it even more when they were the only thing I wore while he fucked me.

A bandage gleamed white against his muscled forearm and my gut clenched, not liking that he’d gotten wounded while he was on his last run. The thought of him being seriously injured while we were apart constantly haunted me, but I had to learn how to live with the fact that he was a bad man who occasionally did really bad things. Since I’d killed two people…wait, make that three—no, probably more—I had no room to judge.

I was glad he was finally home, and not just for my own selfish reasons. The club felt safer while he was here, as if the malevolent presence waiting to strike couldn’t compete with the Beach’s formidable presence. I know it sounds corny as hell, but some people are born with extra charisma, dangerous amounts of it, and Beach had that intangible strength in spades. It made him a natural-born leader, someone people wanted to follow because they truly liked him. Some even loved him, but no one loved him like me. We’d become ingrained in each other’s lives and I really needed him to hold me in his arms again and make me feel safe. The only time I didn’t have to fight the world, that I could relax, was in his arms.

As if he’d read my mind, as soon as I reached him, he looped an arm around my waist and tugged me close, his lips meeting mine in a hard kiss that had my pussy clenching in need. I was so greedy for him, dying to have him inside of me again even though we’d had a quickie a couple hours ago after he’d had church with the other brothers to discuss club business. He’d been in a harsh mood and had spanked my ass hard before he fucked me, but that just made the multiple orgasms he gave me all the better. I’d take any punishment he dished out with a smile and happily beg for more. Shame had no place in our love life, and I adored every hedonistic moment of it.

“Hey, babe,” he murmured against my lips before releasing me, the taste of beer hovering on his lips. “Love those shoes on you.”

Some of the darkness had gone from his sapphire-blue eyes and I smiled up at him. “Hi, handsome. What can I say, my man has good taste.”

Specks of lighter blue gleamed in his dark eyes. “That I do.”

I couldn’t help but smile wider at his obvious double meaning, and gave him another kiss before I nipped his lower lip hard enough to sting.