**Please be aware that this excerpt contains some strong language and a pretty HOT - and graphic - sex scene!**
Have you ever loved someone so much you
physically can’t breathe when they’re not with you? A love so strong your
entire world revolves around them? Have you ever been so crazy about a person
that just thinking about them not being there anymore knocks the breath right
out of you? So when it happens; when they actually do walk away, when they leave it’s like a kick to the gut, it side
swipes you. It hurts so bad that living isn’t something you want to do anymore,
because your only reason for existing was them.
I loved someone that much.
And I hurt that bad.
But I didn’t stop living. I just went
someplace else, a place – a world – where other people’s pain was way worse
than mine. And that changed me, that place. That world. It made me stronger,
harder, the things I saw there made my pain seem insignificant, trivial. Wrong.
And when I left that world I stayed that changed man. I don’t feel shit now.
I’ve been stripped of emotion, had my heart hardened so much there isn’t anything
getting through.
I have one loyalty now. The Death Knights. The
club. My brothers, they saved me. I was damaged goods, fucked up, but you need
to be, in this world. Fucked up is good. Necessary. Staying fucked up means no-one
gets too close. It’s not safe, I’m not doing that shit no more. No bitch is
ever gonna bring me down that low again, that’s a goddamn promise I made to
myself, and I ain’t fucking breaking it…
Logan
Two fucking days it’s taken us to ride
here, and I’m pissed. I’m not in the mood for a fucking wedding. But when it’s
the President of the Mother Chapter making a not-so-honest-woman out of his old
lady, then club protocol really kicks in, all chapters are required to attend,
no matter how far we gotta ride. And Vanni Colletti, he’s not a man you
disrespect, he’s one crazy son-of-a-bitch, so we’re here, in Mountain Springs,
Nevada, whether we want to be or not. I’m the latter, although, as a rule, I’m
a fan of Vegas. I’m usually all in when we do club runs here, which is often. ‘Cause
I’m not the only brother who’s a fan of this place. But these family weekends,
man, this kinda shit isn’t what I do. But I’m looking at it this way – I got
myself a weekend of whiskey and beer and my pick of the club girls, yeah. I’ll
take that. I got no fucking choice.
“Man, I’d forgotten how much I love this
shit.”
I throw Bullet a look, taking off my helmet
and hanging it from the handlebars of my bike. He throws me one right back as
he drags a hand through his hair.
“What’s up with your face?”
“Sentimental shit isn’t my thing.”
“It’s a fucking biker wedding, Logan. The
only time anyone gets sentimental at these things is when the beer runs out.”
He slaps me on the back of the shoulder,
which in itself is an instruction to get my game face on, ‘cause we’re not just
here to party. We got business to sort out, and Vanni, he isn’t stupid. He
organized this wedding to tie in with this meeting; to get all these chapters
together in one place, and I gotta give the guy kudos for that. He wouldn’t be
running the whole set up if he didn’t have brains, it’s just that, if you
didn’t know Vanni; didn’t know what he was capable of, you’d be mistaken for thinking
he wasn’t all that threatening. He is. Like I said, he’s one crazy
son-of-a-bitch, just like his dad before him, his granddad before that, and his
great-granddad, Jesus, crazy sons-of-bitches is an obligatory trait in the
Colletti family. The family who founded the Death Knights MC. So we all just
kinda run with it.
“Go make sure the crash truck’s here,”
Bullet says, a lit cigarette now dangling from his bottom lip. “My old lady’s
driving still makes me nervous but, man, I tell Della that and she’d break my
balls.”
Bullet strides off toward Vanni’s huge,
red-brick house, and I lean back against my bike, light up a joint, and look
out across the impressive grounds surrounding Vanni’s home. A whole mess of
brothers and their old ladies are already here, kids running round all over the
freakin’ place, this party’s already started, and Vanni, he’s spared no
expense. He’s got a beer tent, barbecues all fired up, the smell of charred
meat fills the air and, shit, there’s even face painting for the kids. Jesus
freakin’ Christ, I’m in hell!
I glance over toward the beer tent and
catch sight of Dragon carrying his kit into a nearby trailer. Dragon’s our
chapter’s go-to brother for ink. Runs his studio out of our club compound back
in Burbank, makes us a lot of money, he’s one talented kid. He’s also Vanni’s
cousin, which is why Vanni’s given him this gig. He’s not gonna let just anyone
loose on his turf with a set of needles. Pistols, rifles, yeah, he’s just fine
with all that shit. He’s not even averse to bringing out the rocket launchers,
but he’s having no strangers on his land with a tattoo gun. And what Vanni
Colletti wants, he gets. No fucker argues with him. Again, like I said, one
crazy-son-of-a-bitch.
I draw deep on my joint, toss it to the
ground and head over to Dragon’s trailer, grabbing a beer on the way, taking a
chance to check out my entertainment for the weekend but, shit, it’s not easy
picking out the mamas from the untouchables, ‘cause I don’t want no trouble.
I’m not touching no-one else’s property.
“I’ll give you the heads up, brother.”
Dragon sits down on the steps of the trailer and lights up a cigarette. “I got
a fair idea who’s up for anything, and who to steer well clear of. Make it my
business to know all the important shit, when it comes to these kinda
gatherings.”
I lean back against the trailer and take a
long draft of beer, staring out ahead as a steady stream of bikes, trucks and
cars continue to arrive at Vanni’s estate. Yeah. The guy lives on a fucking
estate, owns a home big enough to house most of the crowd here this weekend,
yet we’re all sleeping in tents out in the grounds. And I’ve slept in worse, so
that side of things doesn’t bother me. I just hate fucking weddings, is all.
And I’m supposed to be over there, making sure Bullet’s old lady’s arrived with
the crash truck, but she don’t need checking. Della’s tougher than Bullet, she
scares the shit outta me sometimes.
And there’s nothing wrong with her driving. But Bullet got one thing right –
she could break his balls pretty damn easy. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“Want one?”
I look down at the cigarette Dragon’s
offering me and I take it, lighting up and drawing deep. “You met the future
Mrs. Colletti yet?”
Dragon nods and blows a steady stream of
smoke up into the air. Air which is still filled with the smell of barbecued
meat, combined with a faint hint of marijuana. “She’s pretty. Real pretty.”
“That why he’s been keeping her hidden,
huh?”
The corner of Dragon’s mouth twists up into
a smirk. “Maybe. But most of us are smart enough to know that if we touch his
old lady, if we even look at her in a certain way, shit happens.”
I chuckle quietly and drop my gaze,
flicking ash onto my battered army boots. “You know much about this meeting
he’s called?”
“It’s a territory thing, as far as I know.
I might be family, Logan, but he don’t tell me shit. I’ve only just been
patched in, so…” He shrugs and takes another drag on his cigarette. “You’ll
know more than me, I reckon.”
I know as much as he does. Vanni likes to
play his cards close to his chest, doesn’t like too much information out there,
until it has to be.
Stubbing my cigarette out on the side of
the trailer I drag a hand back over my head. “I’m gonna go check out the
scenery.” I throw Dragon a knowing grin. He returns it.
“Look at the ring fingers, brother. You
don’t wanna be playing with just anyone’s toys.”
No. No, I fucking don’t…
Piper
“Baby girl, do you have any idea how
beautiful you really are?”
I close my eyes as Vanni’s fingers lightly
trace my collarbone, his breath warm against my neck as his mouth brushes my
ear.
“So-fucking-beautiful.”
My breath hitches as he drops his other
hand, slides it up underneath my skirt and pushes my panties aside, and when he
slips his fingers inside me I bite down on my lip, and I hear him laugh low and
dirty as his thumb circles my clit.
I love Vanni Colletti, I do. I love him, in
a way most people will never understand. He keeps me safe, won’t let anything
hurt me, he’d kill, for me. And he might need to, one day. I don’t know. But
marrying him, it’s something I need to do, to keep him as my protector. Just in
case.
“Get naked,” he murmurs, his mouth almost
touching mine and I swallow down his breath, gasping quietly as he withdraws
his fingers and steps back from me. “Come on, darlin’, let me see what you
got.”
I walk back over to him, grasping his jacket
collar and pulling him against me, my mouth barely touching his, and I feel his
cock already standing to attention. He likes these games, he plays them so
well. “You already know what you got, baby.”
“Still gotta see it, sweetheart.”
He thrusts a hand back up under my skirt,
tearing off my panties, they were barely there to begin with. And then he grabs
the hem of my skirt and hitches it high over my thighs, at the same time
twisting me around and pushing me up against the wall, pulling my hips back as
his knee shoves my legs apart. And I hear him unzip himself, feel his hands on
my ass pulling me open, and I get ready to take him, I want him, inside me. So
when he finally enters me, it’s almost a relief.
His hand rests on my stomach, and he pulls
me up and back against him, his thrusts strangely slow and gentle, but it won’t
stay like this. Vanni’s preference is hard sex, he likes it fast, likes it
dirty and raw and I’m with him, on all of it. I’m his whore, he’s my soldier.
This is who we are. Who he made me? No. I won’t have him blamed for that, he
doesn’t deserve it.
“I still need you naked, Piper,” he murmurs
as his cock slams into me that little bit harder, causing me to cry out
quietly, his hand pressing against the side of my neck, he’s letting me know
who the dominant one is now. But we share that role, which is strange, for a
man like Vanni. But I guess I see a different man to the one he shows his club
brothers.
He pulls out of me and I turn around, lean
back against the wall, lift a leg and kick him away and he laughs, his eyes
burning into mine. And he keeps them there as I slowly nudge my short leather
skirt down until it hits the floor, and I step out of it, reaching up to yank
off my T-shirt, and only then does Vanni’s gaze drop. He loves my tits, loves
looking at them, loves touching them more, and I raise my arms up above my head
and close my eyes and wait, for him to touch them.
“Baby, baby, baby, you fucking kill me,
darlin’. Every freakin’ time.”
Another quiet gasp escapes me as I feel his
palm press against my nipple, feel his mouth touch mine, his other hand
grasping my wrists, keeping my arms raised. And as he kisses me I feel my
stomach jolt, my heart beat faster, and I can hear the noise of the party
outside from here in our bedroom. The windows are open, I can hear people
laughing, music playing, the roar of more bikes arriving for our wedding.
Tomorrow… Tomorrow I become Mrs. Vanni Colletti, old lady to one of the most
respected, feared and envied outlaw bikers in the country.
I’ve been his property for only a short
time, it’s been just a few months since Vanni Colletti found me in that bar
just off the Strip. His bar. He found
me, sitting on my own, nursing the same glass of vodka I’d been trying to make
last all night because I couldn’t afford another one. Vanni bought me a bottle,
shared it with me out in the parking lot as I sat astride his Harley Roadster
with no clue at all as to who he really was; how dangerous a man he could be. I
just knew that he’d bought me vodka, spoke to me like I was human; fucked me
like I wasn’t just some random whore. I’m his
whore. I was from the second he touched me outside in that parking lot. And
that hasn’t made me popular, amongst the other club girls; the other old
ladies. I was cutting in line as far as they were concerned, this stranger he
picked up in a bar and moved into his home overnight. They still feel that way
now. They feel like I don’t deserve to be with him, he’s too important, and I
hadn’t worked my way through the ranks, so to speak. I didn’t have to be a club
girl, do my time as a mama, work my way up to old lady, of any biker, never
mind the man in charge of the entire Death Knights MC. Every chapter. In every country.
Vanni oversees them all. They all answer to him. His family created this club,
it’s his. As am I. Now. He’s powerful
and terrifying but he loves me. I love him. So they can say whatever they want,
I’m marrying this man. Tomorrow.
© Michelle Betham 2017
'Protection' is available to download now.
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