Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (22 page)

“Let's get the hell home, babe. Plenty of drinks waiting if you're in the mood. The boys are celebrating.”

“No,” she whispered softly, staring up at me while I sat her on the bike and fixed her helmet. “All I need is right here.”

Her arms hooked around me. The embrace blew my mind, and threatened to do the same to the nuke hammering in my pants.

Christ. How the fuck could a woman feel so perfect riding with me?

It was like she'd been made for the back of my bike, made for my bed. I'd never bought into that soul mate horseshit before, but every second with this chick was making me wonder if I'd been wrong about it for nearly thirty years.

I loved how she rode pressed up against me while we roared down the highway, taking the mountain bends beneath the moonlight, dipping up and down the valleys filled with Smoky Mountain mist.

Dew prickled at our skin. Even the land itself was wet and teasing. If this wasn't a night to lay a woman down and fuck, then I didn't know one.

Hell, this was a night for more than that. I'd claim her, damn it, and do it good and proper. We'd have a proper reunion at this little mountain bungalow I had about twenty miles from the clubhouse, right on the edge of the big national park.

I'd never brought a girl out there before. It was the place my old man used to go to think, and sometimes he brought Mama and me along for the ride. I'd inherited it after she passed, but I kept it locked up tight, except for the times I wanted to reflect, all alone, away from the brothers and the violence.

I'd never been ready to share that shit with anybody 'til her. Not 'til tonight.

We got to the clubhouse in record time. I parked my bike and grabbed her hand, leading her inside. Loud classic rock bounced through the air, the latest tempo the brothers inside were drinking and fucking to.

A loud moan greeted us behind the bar. My eyes darted to the spot where Firefly had his bitch for the night bent over, slamming his cock into her and growling every time he went deep. The Enforcer never stopped being a hothead even when he fucked, taking his girls out in the open, and hanging 'em out wet to dry the next day.

The bastard looked up, his eyes dark with sex. I gave him a knowing stare. He snorted, never skipping a beat with the slut under him.

“Wow, you weren't kidding about the party!” Meg smiled, so excited and seductive I wanted to drag her out back right there, behind the trees, and put my mouth on hers 'til she couldn't show any teeth the rest of the night.

I didn't like the way Firefly was looking at her. The fuck had a taste for threesomes sometimes – who among us didn't? – but there was no way in hell I'd let him ask my girl.

“Something like that,” I growled, leading her toward the hall hand-in-hand. “We're just here for business. I've got a better place for us to go after this. Let's get this over with.”

The cash stuffed bag sagged in my hand. I carried it in and headed for the Prez's office, hoping he hadn't gone home yet. I sure as hell didn't want to deal with Joker after he'd borrowed my bed for his nasty fun.

Firefly sat at the bar and fixed his eyes on Meg as we stepped inside. We exchanged a look and he nodded. He wore that tired, satisfied glaze in his eyes that he always had after he'd fucked his testosterone calm for awhile. I noticed Blondie snoozing in his lap as we walked by, heading for Dust's office.

“Leave the talkin' to me,” I said between taps on the door. “This is club business, baby, even though it involves you too.”

“Yeah, about that...I was hoping we could get some reassurance from your boss about what's going to happen to me.”

“What?” I shot her a sharp look, just as the door opened.

The Prez had a beer in his hand. He squinted at us like two trick-or-treaters who'd just shown up on his doorstep on the Fourth of July.

“What's she doing back here?” His eyes instantly fell to the big black bag in my hand. “Holy Moses. Is that what I think it is?”

I nodded. All it took for the Prez to reach for Meg and pull her into his office without another word, while I followed them in.

He walked behind his desk, sucking down his beer and hurling the can in the garbage. The bag hit his desk with a plop. His thick, scarred hands landed on it and I watched his fingers give it a squeeze, shaking almost imperceptibly while he went for the zipper, looking like a man about to pull down a lady's dress.

Fat stacks of twenties and hundreds wrapped in bands spilled out the opening. He pursed his lips and whistled, so sharp and unexpected Meg barely suppressed a laugh.

“It's all there, Prez. You can count it down to the dollar. She says it is, and I trust her.” Smiling, our eyes met, and I tried to lay off thinking about how bad I wanted to be inside her just then.

Come on. Hurry the fuck up. You've got your business here, man, and we've got ours.

The excitement in Dust's cool gray eyes raged louder. Then he said the words I dreaded.

“Skin, have a seat. Help me count this loot and get it inventoried for the vault.”

Megan took one look at the sparks in my eyes turning to smoke. This time, she couldn't hold it. She laughed, high and sweet and beautiful, and kept on doing it when the Prez looked at her like she'd lost her mind.

About an hour later, I couldn't get the stink of fresh money off my hands. “It's all there, Prez, see? Just like I told you. Right down to the final dollar.”

“Yeah, yeah. You weren't bullshitting. We've got our second chance for this club right here, and it's all thanks to turning your mistake into a miracle.”

“Mistake?” Meg spoke for the first time in forever, sitting in the corner, next to the club's old filing cabinet.

“My words, not his, beautiful.” Dust thumped his chest. “Our boy's got too big a hard-on for him to realize you're trouble, sweets. You oughta be thankful.”

“Yeah, trouble...about that.” She stood up and walked over.

I grabbed her hand, trying to stall her out. She wanted her assurances, but there was a right way to approach the Prez and a wrong one. I didn't want him chewing into her, no matter how good his mood was from our newly fat cash supply.

“Now that you've got your money, I need to know that you're never going to come after me again, Dust.” She walked past me and stared at him like a wildcat. “I want assurances that we're good on both sides. I need to know I've paid my debt, and whatever trouble Skin caused is done.”

“Assurances?” The Prez glared at her, considering her request.

The girl had courage, I had to give her that. 'Course, she didn't realize what he'd done. She hadn't seen him throttle bastards to death with his bare hands, or take rival prospects out back when his old man led the club, making them scream louder than anybody else could, 'til they sang and gave us whatever we wanted.

Dust didn't get to be Prez thanks to his daddy. He'd gotten the patch because he was as hard, uncompromising, and relentless as he was reasonable.

“Yeah, sure, I'll give you my word. Here, girl, reach out your hand and shake.”

I watched him take her by the wrist. I couldn't breathe 'til I saw the familiar handshake I'd seen him use before when deals went down. Dust grabbed her wrist and pressed his fingers deep, like a Roman soldier feeling for a dagger.

I'd read about that when I was growing up, going through a spell where history's badasses intrigued me. Didn't have a clue where the Prez picked it up – it had to be intuitive, because I'd have bet every dime I had against him ever paying attention in any history class.

“There, babe,” I said softly, running my free hand through Meg's dark brown hair as they broke hands. “Satisfied?”

“No, actually.”

Fuck.
My eyes jumped to the Prez. I could see the cold, frustrated, predatory edge creeping into his eyes.

“I don't have time for games, little missy. You'd better name whatever the fuck you're after or drop it. I've given you my word, and any brother around here will vouch that it's pretty damned valuable. You think I'm a liar?”

Instinct took over. I stepped up, got between them, and looked the Prez dead in the eye.

“You know she isn't, brother. The girl wants to know she's safe, and I don't blame her, but you can't give her the assurance she's looking for. That's my job.” Meg's bright blue eyes flashed wonder and confusion.

I grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her into my chest, wrapping my arms snug around her sweet body, everything I wanted to own for the rest of my days.

“What's going on here, Skin?” Dust growled.

“I'm claiming her as my old lady. Right here, right now. Nobody's gonna stop me. This club won't ever make demands from a woman wearing a brother's brand.”

For a second, the whole world stopped. Meg tensed in my arms, scared and uncertain, but her eyes were wide. Filled with the desire, the need, the admiration I'd come to love.

The Prez just gawked, taking a few seconds to collect his senses. “Bullshit. You don't really mean it...do you?”

“You know me by now, Prez. I don't do idle talk. I don't say shit I don't mean, and I'd never even pretend with something like this. She's mine, dammit, I swear it.” I looked at Meg, ignoring his wild-eyed stare. “She was mine from the minute I saw her in that bastard's whorehouse. Mine from the instant I pulled her here and decided to get her home. Mine when she came back tonight. This is just making things official, putting a pretty formality on what we both knew. Now, I'm gonna make sure everybody in the whole damned world knows it – or at least every man in this club.”

“Jesus, Skin.” She whispered my name softly, her lips trembling.

Fuck it. I wasn't gonna let her break down or spit the confusion written on her face. I grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her to my lips. We kissed pure hellfire there in Dust's office, all while he watched in total amazement.

“I'd say you've lost your damned mind, Skin, but it's clear you've actually put some brains into this. Fuck me.” I forced myself off Meg's lips and looked at the Prez as he circled back behind his desk, shaking his head. “Listen, you two, before you make a big damned mistake...if she wants to get out of all this shit, this ain't the way to go about it. Does this girl even know what becoming an old lady means?”

I looked into Meg's deep blue eyes. No, she didn't, but I'd show her everything she had to know.

I'd lead her by the hand as sure as I'd master her in my bed every night. I already owned her, inside and out, and this was just making things official.

I claimed right here, right now, because I'd decided I couldn't let her slip away again. Not when she got scared of the club, or scared of me.

Not when she feared for her life, or wondered if she really fit in here. Not when she had any damned doubts about what I had for her beating straight through my ribs, the manic beat she put into my heart.

“I'll lead her every step of the way, Prez. That's between her and me. Give us twenty-four hours, and she'll be back here wearing my brand, PROPERTY OF SKIN.”

“Let your old lady answer for a change, if that's what she really wants to be,” Dust snapped. He sat up in his scrappy leather chair and pointed a finger at her.

“You've got my assurances, whether you think I'll honor that handshake or not. You don't need to do anything rash with this poor, desperate bastard if you don't want to. Say no, and I'll make sure he doesn't ride your ass. This is
my
club, and I've got the final say when it comes to who gets to be part of it. You really want to get yourself in deeper? Because there's no going back once you've got his name inked on your pretty flesh. You're his property then, and one more extension of the club.”

Fuck, the Prez made it sound like lock and key with no rewards. He didn't tell her that becoming mine meant I'd kill for her, keep my loyalty to this woman in blood, surrender the wild I'd known my whole life for her embrace.

I waited for her reaction. The next five seconds were the most tense of my entire fucking life.

I'd done everything here on a whim, going by nothing more than the love in her eyes. Now, I was about to find out if that pure, sweet energy would be enough, or if the beautiful baby girl in my arms would panic, break, and go running back to the comfort and privilege she'd always known.

Don't do it,
I thought, clenching my jaw.
You know where you belong, babe.

Here. Now. Forever.

“Honestly, I don't know what I'm getting into here,” Meg said slowly, pausing just long enough to make my damned heart stop. She spun around, flattening her hands on my chest, smiling at me. “But if it brings us closer together, Skin, I'm ready for it. I'm ready to take on anything. You saved my life and taught me I didn't die back in Ricky's place. You showed me I could have another life. You're all I could think about at my parents' place. I dated plenty before the pimp took me, and I never found any man with a scrap of what you're offering.”

“Babe, fuck, just say the word,” I whispered, tightening my hold on her back, fighting to keep my hands off her perfect ass.

“I love you, Skin. And, well, I'm game for whatever this old lady thing means. No regrets. No going back.” She turned and looked at Dust, pushing her cheek onto my chest. “Just keep my man safe, Dust. That's all I'm going to ask from your club. If what he's telling me is true, then I'll be out of your hair for good, right?”

“Shit, you're sweet. Innocent and a little dumb. Nah, it's worse than that, girl. You haven't bought yourself a ticket outta anything.” Dust's smiled, and his shoulders straightened. “Becoming an old lady means you're part of this family. If anybody owes anyone else here a damned thing, it's the club promising you protection, the same as any brother.”

We both broke into a smile. I couldn't keep my lips off her. I didn't give a shit about the bulldog with the PRESIDENT patch watching us neither.

We plunged into a new flurry of kisses in the Prez's office, hungry as all hell, feeding the fire we shared, flames that wouldn't be dashed 'til we finally consummated this thing.

Hard, deep, and long. I wanted to fuck her so damned hard she'd forget the first time. This was a night to remember, the most important one of our lives, and I'd spend the next few hours shaking every curve so hard she'd weep from the pleasure.