Bayou Devils MC: The Complete Series Page 10

  That still scares the shit out of me but after the rush I got today, I promised myself that I’d do things differently. I’ll soak up the small moments and find happiness in the little things. I’ll stop hiding from the world and closing myself off from the possibility of love. I may be slightly jaded and that’s not going to change, but despite that, I do want to share my life with someone. My phone buzzes in my purse, and I grab it, my heart skipping a beat when I think about it being from Storm. When I manage to wrestle it out of my bag, my face lights up.

  Storm:

  Hi

  I giggle and lean back against the door again with a sigh. It’s absolutely ridiculous that a single text from him, one simple word, is enough to have me acting like my head is in the clouds. I don’t know if it’s my earlier resolve to try again or if it’s just him but I’m not fighting this anymore. I can’t. My phone buzzes again, and I look down.

  Storm:

  Darlin’, you want to let me in?

  I look over my shoulder to the door behind me before looking back at my phone and standing up straight. Whipping around, I yank the door open and suck in a breath. There he is, standing on my front porch in a sexy leather jacket and jeans with a fast food bag in his hand.

  “Hi,” I whisper, butterflies dancing around in my stomach, and when a smile slowly stretches across his face, he steals my breath.

  “Hey,” he replies, taking a step into the foyer and closing the door behind him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Well, we said later,” he explains, shrugging like it should be obvious.

  I nod. “Yes, we did.”

  His eyes dance with humor and something more, and as he looks down at me, the temperature in the room cranks up a few degrees. “And as far as I can tell, it’s technically later.”

  “Technically.”

  He takes another step toward me but this time I don’t move so we’re only a whisper away from touching. My breathing quickens as I meet his eyes, and my lips part. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “About what I’m doing here?” he asks, his voice lower and huskier than just moments before.

  I lick my lips and nod. “Yes.”

  His gaze darts to my mouth, so intense that I can feel it rocking through my body. He looks at me like he wants to devour me, and I have absolutely no objections to that. Everything about him seems intense from the heartache in his gray gaze to the “don’t mess with me” aura around him, and I can’t help but imagine how incredibly good it would feel if he focused that intensity on my body. Just the mental image is enough to force a shiver down my spine.

  “I really want to kiss you,” he whispers, moving a fraction of an inch closer like he can’t stop himself.

  “I’m okay with that.” I rise up on my tippy toes just to get a little bit closer to him, and his eyes lock onto mine and we both freeze. Why the hell do we always get stuck in this suspended almost kiss position? It’s making me crazy. In the past three days, I’ve imagined kissing him more times than I can even count. I’ve spent hours wondering if he would be soft and gentle or if he would own my mouth with that same passion that lights up his eyes occasionally. He sighs, turning his head away from me, and I blink, taking a step back as I’m ripped from my fantasy.

  “Fuck it,” he growls, using his free hand to grab my shirt and pull me into him. The bag of food falls to the floor, and his hand dives into my hair as he slams his lips down on mine. My arms go around his neck as his other hand finds the small of my back and pushes me into his body. A low groan rises up from his throat when I nip at his lips and suddenly, we’re moving. He spins us around, and my back is shoved up against a wall as he pushes against me, rubbing his hard cock against my hip.

  The hand on my back creeps down, grabbing onto my ass, and I gasp, granting him entrance into my mouth, and he takes full advantage, his tongue plunging inside and tangling with my own. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. All I can do is hold on for dear life as he completely knocks me off my feet with a kiss. I spent so much time imagining this but it’s better than I could ever dream up. I slip my hands under his leather jacket, and he rips his mouth away as he groans and gently grabs my wrists.

  “I really didn’t come here for this,” he whispers against my lips, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

  My fingers dig into his chest. “You don’t hear me complaining.”

  He sighs, like he’s in pain, before pulling back and meeting my eyes. “I should feed you.”

  He looks over his shoulder to where he dropped the food. “Oh, shit.”

  I peek over and immediately start laughing. The bag is crushed, and food is spilled out across the floor. We must have kicked it or something when he was moving me to the wall. He focuses back on me as I giggle, his eyes boring into me as my laughter slowly dies. God, I want to kiss him again but after he pulled away, I’m not sure that’s what he wants.

  “How does pizza sound?” I ask instead.

  “Fine but I’m paying.”

  “Uh, no.”

  He levels a glare at me, almost like he’s daring me to defy him. “This was supposed to be an apology so I’m buying.”

  Feeling brave, I lean up and kiss his cheek. “You really don’t have to do that.”

  Questions spark in his eyes as he scans my face, and all I can think about is kissing him again. Even when I tell myself to think of something else, it always comes back to his full lips.

  “Of course I do. I still feel really bad about Bear hurting you so I’m buying.”

  “Storm,” I whisper, shaking my head, “you don’t need to apologize anymore for Bear. It was an accident. And you certainly don’t need to buy dinner for me as a peace offering.”

  “Sweetheart,” he drawls, one corner of his mouth pulling up in an easy grin and sending tingles across my skin, “it’s not often I’m accused of being a gentleman so you might want to take advantage of my offer.”

  I sigh, and my stomach chooses this exact moment to growl. When I peek up at him to see if he heard it, his victorious grin tells me all I need to know. “Well, all right then.”

  He orders me to sit on the couch while he calls to order some pizza, and when he’s done, he sits down beside me, pulling my feet into his lap, and massaging them as we talk.

  “How was your first day?” he asks, and I beam.

  “Amazing,” I say before launching into a detailed description of my day. I tell him everything, excited to share my happiness with someone but about halfway through my story, I realize I’m rambling and stop. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s kind of boring.”

  He shakes his head and reaches out, gently brushing his thumb over my cheek. “No. Please keep going.”

  I study him for a moment but when I don’t see anything but sincerity, I decide to finish my story. I explain about the article, and then that leads to me having to explain about the three dates. He watches me as I talk, and I can tell that he’s really listening. He really cares about how my day was, and my heart warms at the gesture.

  “And that was the day we met?” he asks, and I nod. “Shit. What a day.”

  I laugh, nodding my head. “Yeah, it was certainly interesting.”

  “Well, I’m sorry again for Bear.”

  I give him a look, and he holds his hands up in surrender.

  “So, you’ve never told me what you do,” I point out, and he nods, looking down at the foot he’s massaging.

  “You ever heard of the Bayou Devils?” he asks, and when I shake my head, he sighs.

  “So, it’s an MC…”

  “An MC?” I ask, cutting him off.

  “Yeah, a motorcycle club. A lot of clubs are involved in criminal activity, and the Devils used to be before I joined but shit started going down and our president, Blaze, decided to make some changes.”

  “Do you even realize that you do that?” I ask, and his brow creases.

  “What?”

  Smirking, I shake my head. “You
respond to my questions but you never really answer them.”

  “I don’t do that,” he says, a stubborn expression crossing his face that does all sorts of things to my insides.

  “Yes, you do. I asked you what you do and you told me you’re in an MC but I still don’t really know what you do all day. Like, how do you make money to buy things like apology pizza?”

  He snorts, fighting back a smile as he peeks up at me. “The club has several businesses that we run. When Blaze decided to go legitimate, we needed a way to make money. He already had the motorcycle shop but then he decided to open a P.I. business and a bar as well.”

  “And you just work at all of them?”

  “Yep,” he says, nodding, “We all take turns working in each place.”

  “What made Blaze decide to turn things around?” I ask, wanting to soak up as much knowledge as I can. The doorbell rings, and he moves my feet before jumping up.

  “One second.” He goes to the door and comes back a few seconds later with our food, setting it on the coffee table, and handing me a slice. He grabs one for himself before sitting back down again.

  “About six years ago, a lot of shit went down, and it was just too much for all of them. Blaze had lost touch with his son, and he’d been shot during a run. One of the other guys went to prison, and he’s still there. Like everything just came to a head, and Blaze couldn’t do it anymore.”

  I nod, studying him as he tells the story. “Why did you join?”

  He shrugs and looks away. “Blaze got involved in helping women escape abusive relationships, and I liked what they were doing. I didn’t have much else at that point in my life. They became my family.”

  My heart hurts as I think about him all alone in the world. “You don’t have any family?”

  He turns back to me, giving me a soft smile that makes me sigh. “No, I’ve got my mom and dad but they’re separated, and they never had any more kids so it was kind of lonely.”

  “I’m an only child, too, so I get it. Did you grow up around here?”

  He nods. “Yeah, born and raised. I left for a little bit after high school but then I came back. This was home, you know?”

  “I grew up in Texas, and I don’t know if I would go back now. I came out here for school because I wanted to be on my own but I fell in love with it.”

  He smiles. “I’m kind of glad that you did.”

  I blush and look away from him, my heart racing. God, this is exciting and terrifying all rolled into one, and I don’t know what feeling to latch on to. Maybe I should just go with it and enjoy the ride. “Me, too,” I whisper.

  Storm reaches out, gently tapping under my chin with his fingers, and I look over at him. “Tell me more.”

  It’s not a question but even that doesn’t bother me. I like that he wants to know more about me. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  “Well, that’s a super vague request. Can you narrow it down for me?”

  He laughs and takes a bite of his pizza as he thinks. The scar in his eyebrow catches my eye, and I reach toward him, trailing my finger over it.

  “How did you get this?”

  He watches me for a second. “Got in a fight.”

  I finish my pizza and toss the crust down on the open pizza box before pulling my knees to my chest and looking at him. He glances over at me out of the corner of his eye and grins.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you, your friend the other day, the one that walked in on us in the kitchen…” he prompts.

  “Izzy?”

  “Yeah. She always that forward?”

  I laugh and nod. “Um, yes.”

  “Great,” he mumbles, and he seems upset by that fact.

  “Did it bother you?” I ask, and he sighs, turning to look at me. He just watches me for a couple moments before shaking his head.

  “No, it didn’t.”

  An awkward silence falls over us, and he grabs another slice of pizza, asking me if I want one. I shake my head, and as he starts eating, I sigh.

  “Okay, your turn. Tell me something about you.”

  He smirks. “That’s a super vague request. Narrow it down.”

  “Smartass,” I laugh, shoving him, and he quirks a brow in my direction, his smile turning predatory as he lunges at me. I squeal and try to get away but he scoops me up before I even make it off the couch, taking us down to the floor as he lies on top of me.

  The air punches out of my lungs as I stare up at him, the warmth of his body blanketing me, and his breath fanning across my face. He holds my gaze, both of us suspended in this ridiculous “will we or won’t we” thing that we keep doing. Slowly, without taking my eyes off him, I lean up and press my lips to his. When he doesn’t pull away, I press my palm to his cheek, and he sighs, kissing me back just as softly.

  I fall into him. It’s the kind of kiss that can last all night – slow, sweet, but still hot as he nips at my bottom lip, earning a breathy moan from me. My legs wrap around his waist, and he groans as he slips a hand behind my head, pulling me closer this time instead of pushing me away. His tongue teases mine as he grips my hip and moans.

  His phone starts ringing, and he pulls away, breathing heavily as he stares down at me, thunder building in his eyes. The phone stops ringing, and he sighs, climbing off me and sitting on the floor as he pulls it out and checks his messages.

  “I’ve got to go,” he says when he pulls the phone away. He stands and holds his hand out to me to help me up. My heart hurts when I look up at him because he’s different than he was just a moment ago, and I have no idea what sparked the change. His fingers slip through my hair, and he presses his lips to my forehead before whispering “good-bye” and walking out of my house.

  I stare at the door, my chest aching, and wonder if I made a big mistake here.

  * * * *

  Walking into my office, I set my bag down on one of the chairs across from my desk and strut over to my chair. I was so pumped walking into work today, and I can’t wait to get started. Once the first article went live yesterday, I went through the box of letters again and found the perfect one to do today. I’ve already got most of the response formulated in my head. I just need to get it down on paper.

  Sitting down in the chair, I think about Storm and can’t stop the wide smile from stretching across my face before it falls. I don’t know what happened between us last night, and I absolutely hate the way it hurts right now.

  “Ali, come here, please,” Mercedes calls from her office, and I grab my coffee before standing and walking over. When I walk in, her face is buried in her computer. I sit down in one of the chairs and smile at her but she just looks at me with a somber expression on her face. Oh, shit, what happened?

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, and she looks down, shaking her head. My stomach knots, and I wonder if it’s something to do with yesterday’s article. What if people hated it and she’s going to fire me? When she looks up again, she’s beaming, and I get whiplash from her sudden mood change. I just stare at her with wide eyes for a second, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

  “Seriously, what?” I ask, really starting to freak out.

  “You went viral.”

  I blink at her in shock and then do it again, unsure of what to say. I went viral… what the hell does that even mean?

  “What?”

  “Ali, the article. People freaking loved it, and you went viral. Three point five million shares overnight.”

  I stand up and walk around behind her, looking at her computer screen. “Shut up,” I whisper, more to myself when I see the number she just quoted staring back at me. I go back to the chair, walking like a zombie as I try to process what’s happening right now.

  “They loved it?” I ask, plopping down into the chair again. Mercedes nods enthusiastically, looking a bit like a bobble head, and I take a sip of my coffee.

  “Yes, everyone is talking about you this morning. Everyone loved it.” She pauses and
makes a face. “Well, not everyone. I’ve gotten two calls from Klein this morning, threatening to sue but that’s just icing on a very tasty cake.”

  I laugh. “You like getting sued?”

  “No,” she scoffs. “He’s got nothing, and I already called my dad and had him get the lawyer on it. He can’t touch us which is just going to piss him off more.”

  She rubs her hands together like an evil villain, and I laugh again, all of this starting to sink in a little bit.

  “I can’t believe this,” I tell her, and she scoffs again.

  “I can. I knew you would be great. It’s why I jumped on the chance to hire you.”

  I nod, my mind working overtime right now as I try to understand what all this means for my life. “Is this going to be bad for the advice column? It wasn’t exactly an advice piece I wrote.”

  “I don’t think so but I wanted to talk to you about that.”

  I take a deep breath and nod my head, readying myself for whatever she’s going to throw at me. She has a smirk on her face that worries me a little. “Okay, shoot.”

  “So, I think we’ve got people’s attention, and that’s great, but now we’ve got to capitalize on it.”

  “And how do you want to do that?” I ask, warily, not sure that I like where this is going.

  “Hear me out here. I want to set up a photo shoot for some ads and get you some radio interviews. Maybe even some local TV shows.”

  I start shaking my head immediately. There is no way I’m agreeing to this.

  “Come on, Ali. Please? We need this if we’re going to make your column a success; otherwise, people are going to forget about you as soon as something else goes viral.”