Iron Horse MC Book 2
For the first time in my life I know what it’s like to be completely and truly adored by a man who loves me for exactly who I am, a high functioning autistic with more personality quirks than there are stars in the Texas Hill Country night sky.
Some people think my boyfriend, Smoke, is a total biker psycho, a natural born killer who will destroy anyone who threatens what he considers his. They wouldn’t be wrong, but he’s so much more than that. He’s my dark salvation, my beloved fallen angel who is trying with all of his wicked heart to save me from what seems like an entire world bent on either killing me or a fate worse than death.
We’re headed to the Denver, Colorado chapter of the Iron Horse MC, chasing after my narcissistic, junkie mother who decided to steal from some very bad men leaving her two daughters behind to pay the price for her betrayal. My twin sister, Sarah, old lady to the Iron Horse MC president, is looking for my mother as well, but Sarah’s gone rogue and has no one to guard her back which worries me deeply. To further complicate matters, there are traitors in the Iron Horse MC who are working with my mother, not only helping her to escape but also informing my enemies of my every move.
The odds are stacked against me, but I will do whatever is necessary to protect those I love, and with Smoke at my side, I just might make it out of this mess alive.
The burning Texas sun set over the distant hills in spectacular bursts of amethyst, cardinal red, and tangerine while a warm breeze moved over my skin like a caress. It was late summer nights like these, idyllic evenings when laughter and the smell of cooking food filled the air, that made me regret ever leaving the raw beauty of the Texas hill country. I took a long pull from my cold beer and gazed across the yard to where my amazing man, Smoke, stood talking with my good friend Indigo’s parents, Ron and Bettie, an older Asian couple. They looked like a couple of tie-die-wearing hippies that time had forgotten while Smoke seemed all the more dark and dangerous standing with them, like some kind of post-apocalypse War Barron…an apex predator. Except right now he looked like an amused predator conversing with two earnest chipmunks.
Ron and Bettie were actually pretty sane for preppers, but they’d talk your ear off about ‘the man’ if you gave them half a chance, and I wondered if Smoke was perplexed or amused by them. I know Indigo thought they were just batshit crazy; they drove her nuts with their ever evolving list of people they swore were trying to kill them. Funny thing was, the more you listened to them the more you started to believe that their weird conspiracy theories might have a ring of truth to them.
Memories of nights spent at Indigo’s compound flitted through my mind like sheets of paper caught in a windstorm as the years peeled back. Ron and Bettie were more than a little odd, but they treated me like one of their own and were two of the few people I trusted on sight. They were close with my parents and would often come over to play cards on our big, screened-in back porch and laugh about the world going to hell. A bolt of melancholy tightened my chest as I realized how much I missed them…though right now I was far more interested in my man than my friend’s parents.
Poor Smoke, he actually looked like he was really thinking about what they were saying with a slightly bemused smile curving his lips. Considering Ron and Bettie were conspiracy theorists he was probably getting an earful about the Vagrants, an evil political entity Ron and Bettie believed was slowly taking over the world. That was why they’d decided to stop watching cable TV. They swore mind control devices had been implanted by the Vagrants inside of cable boxes and got all their news off the Internet instead from websites of people who’s wacked out political views made Ron and Bettie look sane.
Indigo had a touch of their paranoia, but she was one of the best private investigators in the country at twenty-one so maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
I had to laugh at myself as I watched my big, badass biker boyfriend talking with them in their faded tie-dye clothing. I swear they were roughly half his massive size, and his commanding presence made them seem even smaller. Smoke’s fist was nearly as big as Ron’s head, and the memory of those big hands on me sent rather pleasant sparks of pleasure dancing through my body.
From the top of his head covered in curly black hair to his sexy feet—no, seriously, the man even has gorgeous feet—he was one hundred percent mine. The good and the bad. Sometimes I saw a hint of true darkness in him, the dispassionate gaze of a killer, and it scared me and aroused me at the same time. But if Smoke was the king of the jungle, I was his queen, and I had a touch of darkness myself. We were an odd couple, to be sure, but beneath our skin our hearts beat to the same savage rhythm.
Even though my sex was still sore from the hard fuck he’d given me last night I craved him to the point where I planned on throwing myself on him and tearing off his clothes the first second we were alone. When he’d taken my virginity he woke a hunger in me that bordered on ravenous. I wanted to devour him, to lock us away in my bedroom and make him give me pleasure until I passed out. I knew how good those perfect, full lips of his felt wrapped around my nipples and how his big hands could hold my body still while he bit me with little stinging nips that set my body ablaze.
He was just such a big, solid man all over. Including his magnificent cock with the piercing beneath the base that rested against his balls. A shiver raced down my spine and settled between my hips as I imagined how that wonderful bit of metal would hit my clit just right while fucking doggy style. Another wave of heat sensitized my pussy and I shifted, somehow drawing his attention to me past all the other people at the big party to where I stood leaning against a tree and watched the festivities around me..
When his dark gaze met mine I swore the world hushed for a moment, nothing existed except my pounding heart and his handsome face. The setting sun hit his cheekbones and his bold, Aztec nose just right, turning him into the living statue of a warrior. Without even trying he enchanted me and my knees weakened to the point where I had to brace myself against the tree. I was spellbound by his dark gaze, completely ensnared by his raw, masculine beauty.
That was the only way I could describe my feelings for him, that he wove some type of magical enchantment over me that held me in ethereal bondage, draining my will and replacing it with his. I gladly surrendered to him, and my breath caught at the flare of passion between us as he casually rubbed his lips while pretending to listen to Bettie yammer on about the world ending.
Despite the fact that I wore a pair of faded jeans and a black tank top with a pair of my beat up old boots, he stared at me like I was nude and had been rubbed down with oil, cranking my overwhelming arousal even higher. I didn’t like getting turned on with my parents around—it was weird—but at the same time, I loved the way the heat built between us until I was melting with it. If he slipped his long, rough fingers between my legs right now he’d find me slick with desire.
I had to tighten my grip on my beer bottle, suddenly certain that it would slip from my useless grip as my heart raced when he began to make his way across the yard to me. Yelling children ran past him while people eating burgers and ribs tried to get his attention, but he avoided the kids and ignored the adults. His attention was focused totally on me and I couldn’t help the goofy smile hurting my cheeks as he came closer. Elation filled me and I took a step away from my tree, then another, eager to bask in his presence like a cat in a patch of sunlight on a cold winter day.
When Smoke gazed at me like this I knew I was the center of his universe. He looked at me in a way no one ever had, like I was more important than air and the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I would never, ever get tired of the way Smoke watched me. Putting a little swing in my hips I stepped up beneath the green leaves of the old tree until the toes of my battered cowboy boots were touching his black motorcycle boots. The scent of summer filled the air around us, the sun-baked earth mixing with the sharp spice of the fire and the sweet darkness of barbeque. He smelled really, really good, a hint of sweat mixed with sun-warmed skin and his soap. He’d actually brought a bar of his personal soap with him and insisted on washing me with it when we shared a shower this morning. He really, really got off on me smelling like him. Not that I was complaining, being bathed by Smoke was a decadent experience and one of the best ways in the world to greet the day.
I looked up and brushed a strand of hair from my face while we stared at each other like love-besotted fools. Tonight I actually wore my high maintenance hair down and loose at Smoke’s request. I was constantly moving it off my face, which was annoying, but totally worth every bit of irritation when Smoke ran his fingers through the long strands with a look of pure satisfaction. He cupped my cheek, leaned down and rubbed his nose along mine, then brushed a soft kiss over my lips. Even that modest touch made my skin tingle, and I sighed against his mouth, pressing my body against his even as I kept my hands at my side. If I touched him I’d either grab his magnificent ass or run my fingers through his dark, silken curls while hauling his mouth to mine in a rather wanton display that would be totally inappropriate in front of my neighbors.
The slightest hint of his tongue brushed my lips and I groaned softly, stealing a taste of him before he lifted his head and grinned down at me, still stroking my cheek in a hypnotizing rhythm. I knew I was the only person who ever got to see the soft, tender side of Smoke and I relished his open affection for me. In the world of the Iron Horse MC, where he was the Master at Arms for the founding chapter, Smoke was feared, and with good reason. I’d witnessed him losing his temper when we first met, and the pure rage he put off scared me. Even back then he’d been oddly attuned to my every need and had immediately calmed himself when he saw that his anger scared me.
“Hey, beautiful baby,” Smoke said with a rough purr in his voice. “You tryin’ to get your daddy to shoot me?”
I laughed, very aware of my father glaring at Smoke from where he sat at a picnic table near the fire pit. A hint of unease moved through me; my dad could very well be considering how to end the life of my much older boyfriend. Or, as Smoke liked me to call him, my man. Even my dad’s disapproval couldn’t quell the need coiling inside of me, and I slipped my hands into Smoke’s and gave a soft squeeze. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Mimi sit down on my dad’s lap and he glared at her for a second before his lips curved into a reluctant smile and his eyes filled with warmth. They were true soul mates and I was happy for them, happy to have been blessed with parents who could show me what true love meant.
“No, I don’t want my dad to shoot you. He might hit something important. Something I really like.” I bumped my hips to his, the press of his big erection against my body sending a shiver of electric desire down my spine and straight to my clit. Fuck, knowledge was a dangerous thing. Before Smoke I’d been totally inexperienced and I had no idea how good sex could be. I have this issue with people touching me, a sensory issue combined with a fear of strangers, and before Smoke I’d never met a man who could touch me like he could. My body belonged to him from the very start and I loved the way he made me feel.
It would be nice to relax with Smoke, once we found my sister and my mom, then keep the Mafia, the Russians, and the Los Diablos MC from killing me. Once this was all over I wanted to spend a solid week in bed with Smoke, fucking each other senseless. My body hummed with arousal and I rubbed against him again, unconsciously seeking the relief I knew he could give me, and the ability to escape my worries and fear that I could only find in his arms.
His deep chuckle vibrated against my breasts. “What naughty things are you thinking about? Is it about my tongue in your pussy, or my cock?”
I frowned up at him, trying to ignore the way my lady bits were now throbbing. Damn he had a sexy ass voice, all deep and growly. Male, primal, hot. “How do you know I’m thinking about sex?”
“Because you do these long, slow bites on your lower lip when you’re getting turned on. When I see those pretty white teeth sinking into one of my favorite places to kiss I know you’re thinking about me touching you. I could fuck you for days at a time, satisfy you until you don’t know your own name, but now is not the time or place so stop being so fuckin’ sexy. You’re killin’ me.”
I sighed and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his chest with a low sigh. “I was just thinking that it will be nice to go home when this is over…and touching you.”
He made a happy sound and pulled me tight against him, his arms solid as a tree trunks wrapping around me and holding me close. “I can’t wait to get you home either.”
About the Author
Ann is Queen of the Castle to her wonderful husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she’s been an Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.
From a young age she’s been fascinated by myths and fairytales, and the romance that often was the center of the story. As Ann grew older and her hormones kicked in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she’s never looked back.
Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her ‘sexy space’ and has learned to type one handed while soothing a cranky baby.