Love & Chrome (Motorcycle Club Erotic Romance) (The Verde Demons Book 1) Read online

  Love & Chrome

  By L.E. Joyce

  Copyright 2014 by L.E. Joyce

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author(s).

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues in this book are from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, including ex-boyfriends, is completely coincidental.

  Published by Midnight Heat Books, www.midnightheatbooks.com

  Edited by Jodi Sh. Doff, [email protected]

  Cover by Silas Deane Design, [email protected]

  Warning: This title contains explicit sexual encounters between consenting adults. It is intended for 18+ audiences. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

  About Love & Chrome

  At eighteen, Aubrey Watts ran from her small town of Las Verdes, Arizona, leaving the boy she loved and the wild life of the Verde Demon Motorcycle Club that consumed them both. Seven years later, she returns to say goodbye to her dying father and finds the boy she once loved now a very powerful man.

  Excerpt

  “After the diner, we take a slow ride out on Route 5. He gives me his helmet, the way he always used to, and we ride together as if no time was lost between us. Even though he doesn’t say anything, I know where he is heading–the quarry. I had been there with him too many times before.

  As the sun rises, I can see how it looks the same: rocks, and cliffs, and the remnants of young kids with too much time and not enough to do. Tom retrieves a blanket from his saddlebag and lays it out. He sits down and offers me a hand to do the same. You can spend years trying to forget things, pretending that feelings don’t exist, but when your past rides back into your life, it’s impossible to turn away.

  I settle myself next to him. He is so close that I can hear him breathe. With my heart pounding and sweat glistening my palms, I turn to face him. He is right there, leaning in for a kiss, and my body electrifies with his scent, his touch, and his hot breath scorching my mouth. We break for a moment and stare into each other’s eyes. My body screams Yes, but my mind says No. Never again.

  “Don’t think about it, Aubrey,” he says as if reading my mind.

  I sigh and a slick tear escapes my eye. He kisses me again, wet and hot. Arousal rips through me, bruising my over thinking brain into following along.

  First my pants, then his, drop to the dry rock bed. He slides down between my legs, and with my pussy already dripping with anticipation, he laps his tongue into my folds. In that one hot decided second, I am the old Aubrey, the wild bad girl once again.

  “Fuck, Tom,” I say grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

  In what seems like minutes, my juices ooze, and I am coming, his mouth teasing and tasting and rolling over my clit until I can stand it no more. With my legs shaking from orgasm, he scales my body and kisses me. I can taste myself on his lips, and I feel something snap inside, twisting me into a primal version of the girl I tried so hard to run from. I reach and feel Tom’s cock, rock-hard in my hand. I put my lips to his fat head and gobble him up as if I was starving.

  “God, Aubrey,” he moans.”

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  What Readers Are Saying About L.E. Joyce

  “Deliciously dirty erotica.”

  “The lust that runs through these stories practically burns up the pages and with seven stories to choose from I have to say I was well satisfied (and totally overheated) by the time I made it all the way through.”

  “I HAVE to read more!”

  Contents

  Love & Chrome

  About the Author

  Other Works by L.E. Joyce

  Bonus Excerpt from HOT INK Book 1

  More from Midnight Heat Books

  Love & Chrome

  I haven’t stepped foot in Las Verdes, Arizona, since I was eighteen years old.

  Back then I was a wild girl, having just discovered sex and cocaine in the deserts surrounding my small town, where the Verde Demons Motorcycle Club ran crystal meth and guns across the Mexican border under the vengeful eye of my father, Sheriff Buddy Watts. My father loathed the Demons, and knowing his daughter dated one of its members drove him to a life more reckless than my own. No matter how hard he tried, my father could not control me. I was crazy for my Verde Demon Tom Sully, and I was never going to let him go. But everything came crumbling down one summer evening after graduation. I had been lucky; I wasn’t in the clubhouse with Tom that night. Without warning, the Las Verdes police, led by my father, stormed in with the DEA. A dozen arrests were made, but only two did time: my Tom, and Verde Demon’s club president, Alfonzo Abato.

  Alfonzo was in violation of his parole, and with the murder of the Highwaymen's Sergeant of Arms added to the drug running, he went away for life. Tom was only eighteen. Since he was the youngest member, he volunteered to take the rap for the club. It was his first conviction, and with no other priors he was sentenced to ten years at State. The club said he’d be out in five, and I promised that I’d wait for him, but things don’t always work out like you plan. In those early months that Tom was in jail, my life spun out of control. Drugs gripped me tighter, and I found relief from my loneliness in the arms of many nameless men and women.

  Something had to change.

  I went to the prison one last time to see Tom, planning to say goodbye, but I couldn’t. I stood outside, staring at the yellow brick walls that separated me from him, but I didn’t go in. I loved him too much and like a coward, I left town without saying the words that needed to be said. I boarded a plane to Boothbay Harbor, Maine. I went to live with my dad’s sister, got clean from the drink and drugs, and my broken and used body began to heal. I went to college, and was accepted to veterinary school. My life turned quiet. The drugs and sex became a distant memory, but Tom, his steely gray eyes, his sleek blonde hair, and the way his rock hard body held me close to his, were never far from my mind. I knew if I ever stepped foot in Las Verdes again, I would lose myself in Tom Sully and the dark and dangerous world of the Verde Demons.

  But the past has a way of creeping into the present when you least expect it.

  I’m on my residency shift at Boothbay Veterinary Hospital and I get the call I’ve been dreading: my father is dying and wants to see me is all my mother says. I pack a bag and board the first flight out of Maine. Thoughts of my sick father mingle with everything I had run away from seven years ago.

  I land in Las Verdes where it’s over a hundred degrees in September. My Maine skin isn’t ready for it. The heat drains me immediately, but I head straight from the airport to the hospital with the setting sun at my back. My mother had gone home already and I’m relieved not to have to face her just yet.

  In the quiet halls of the ICU, the nurse tells me Sheriff Watts is sleeping and I am not to disturb him.

  “Please,” I beg. “I’ve just landed.”

  She looks at me inquisitively. “Are you the daughter?” she asks.

  I hesitate, not ready to reveal
that I’m that daughter. “Yes,” I say and wait for a look of disappointment to crease her face, but it does not come.

  “He’s been waiting for you,” she says grimly. “Come on.”

  I follow her down the hall toward my father’s room.

  “I’ll let you have a few minutes with him, but you really must come during regular visitor hours tomorrow,” she says.

  Through the glass door, I see the shell of him. A frail and weak and aged version of the man who fought to keep me on the straight and narrow, with tubes and wires anchoring him to this world.

  “What if he wakes up?” I ask.

  “He won’t, honey. He was agitated, and we had to give him something to rest.”

  “What made him so upset?” I ask, turning to the nurse.

  The nurse sighs and looks at her watch, clearly not wanting to help me anymore. “Someone named Tom Sully was released from prison last week.”

  My breath catches. The man who I had run from, the man who helped to put my father in that hospital bed, was–free. My mind races; I should have stayed away. Only regret waits for me here. I look at my father’s dying face and see the wrinkles that my wild life with the Verde Demons caused in him. That saying, the one that says you can’t go home again? It’s wrong. You can go home again and find the same darkness as the day you left. It never changes, never falters. It’s always there waiting for you to come home.

  I turn and leave without going inside.

  “Wait,” the nurse calls from behind me. “Aren’t you going to visit with him?”

  “No,” I say over my shoulder as I quicken my pace. “He doesn’t want to see me anymore.”

  Outside the hospital, I leave my rental car in the parking lot and start walking through the streets of Las Verdes toward my parents’ house on the edge of town. The cooling oven temperature of a desert day turning to night surrounds me. When I reach my parents’ house, I keep going. My wedge heels cut into my skin, but I don’t care. The image of my father lying in that hospital bed lingers in my mind as I step out on to the highway that leads out of town.

  The haze of dusk turns quickly to dark. In the distance, far behind me, I hear a familiar sound–the roar of a motorcycle engine barreling down the highway. As it gains on me, my legs feel weak, but I do not deter in my path. A light silhouettes me from behind, but I do not turn. I hear the crunch of gravel and the silencing of an engine.

  “Hey, beautiful,” says a voice from the darkness.

  I do not need to turn around.

  “Tom,” I whisper. I look over my shoulder, and my heart rips from my chest and lays naked and pulsating on the dry desert road. His face looks strained, like the setting sun pierces his eyes, but he is my Tom–gorgeous and sexy, a beast of a man who could ravage me with a sideways glance.

  “Aubrey Watts,” he says coolly. “It’s been far too long.”

  I look at his leather cut and see a badge that wasn’t there seven years before–Verde Demons President.

  “You’ve moved up fast,” I say to him motioning to his new title.

  Tom Sully, minted president just days after his prison release, the kid who took the fall for his club, comes out a man of power and position. It’s shockingly wrong, and the sight of him and what that cut represents makes my stomach turn.

  Tom’s face hardens under the lamplight. “What are you doing back, Aubrey?” It sounds like an accusation and it burns as it goes down.

  “My dad is dying.” It’s all that I can manage. Tears well in my eyes.

  He softens and positions to move off his bike, but I scuffle backwards, my body telling him that I don’t need his pity, that I’m fine and strong and my dad will die without hearing me say sorry. Tom retreats his advance and stays where he belongs–on his bike.

  “Come on,” he says motioning me toward him.

  I say nothing and climb on the back. My hands slide around his waist as if they had never left. We ride out on Route 5 as the warm night wind washes over us. I smile when I see him pull into Dee’s All Day Diner, the place we used to know so well. Memories come back to haunt me, but I hold onto only the good ones.

  He silences his Harley, but I don’t get off. I crush my head into his back, “I’m sorry,” I say. “I had to leave. I couldn’t stay here without you.”

  Tom doesn’t turn around. He rubs my hand before lifting it to his lips for a hard kiss. The touch of his flesh sends shocks through my body. “I know, Aubrey,” he says softly. “I never really expected you to wait.”

  I don’t say anything because there is nothing to say when a bad girl turns good.

  Inside the diner, we settle ourselves in our favorite booth in the back, far away from the prying eyes of Sheriff Watts’ cronies. To my father, Tom Sully wasn’t true love, he was jail time not yet served. He got his wish when his department participated in the bust that sent Tom away. How my father gloated when he delivered the news. There was no fatherly concern in his voice, no regret over ripping his daughter’s first love from her troubled young arms. Instead, Sheriff Buddy Watts retired to the backyard with his whiskey, chain smoking and shooting off his guns until the wee hours of the morning. I left home the next day and didn’t return until a year later when my arms were marked with tracks and my body stained from over a hundred different men and women. Fleeing to Maine was a salvation and a penance. To soberly remember how every hardened line on my father’s face got there, that I was the reason, the cause of his decline, was a punishment befitting my rotten, dirty crimes.

  The waitress brings us menus that we memorized ten years prior, and I’m anchored back to Tom sitting across from me, looking grown up and more sexy than I had ever thought possible.

  “I heard that you went to Maine,” he says pretending to look at the menu.

  “With my Aunt,” I say. “In Boothbay Harbor.”

  “Population a thousand?” he teases.

  “Close. Twenty-two hundred.”

  “Jesus,” Tom says. “What does a small town girl do in even a smaller town?”

  “She gets sober for one,” I say. I wait for him to rebuke, give me a hard time for my new life choices, but it doesn’t come. “I went to college, and now I’m in Vet school.”

  “You’re a vet?” he says, grinning. “You always did have a soft spot for animals.” He slaps the menu on the table. “Do you remember that squirrel we hit?”

  “It was a rabbit, and yes, I remember.”

  “You were so upset. Tommy, that poor little thing. We have to do something,” he says joke-mocking me. “You were hysterical.”

  “I was probably high out of my mind,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  He picks up the menu again. Silence fills the space between us. “Do you remember that time we rode to Las Vegas?” he asks.

  He doesn’t look up at me, and I’m relieved that he can’t see me blush. Of course, I remember. Our fake ID’s hid our real age as we spent the weekend doing coke off hookers’ asses until sunrise.

  “And I went down on you in the casino?” I say. The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them, wild and free and unfiltered. It felt good not to think, to not mine my words and hide the real person I kept locked up deep inside.

  I look up from my menu to find his eyes searing into mine.

  “What can I get for you, Tommy?” the waitress asks. She smiles at him sweetly and the connection between us is broken.

  “I’ll have a turkey club, Molly,” he says.

  I don’t know the waitress, but the way she stares at me says that she knows me. “And you?” she asks.

  “The veggie burger,” I say.

  Tom shakes his head. “Dr. Do-gooder.”

  After the diner, we take a slow ride out on Route 5. He gives me his helmet, the way he always used to, and we ride together as if no time was lost between us. Even though he doesn’t say anything, I know where he is heading–the quarry. I had been there with him too many times before.

  As the sun rises, I can see how it looks t
he same: rocks, and cliffs, and the remnants of young kids with too much time and not enough to do. Tom retrieves a blanket from his saddlebag and lays it out. He sits down and offers me a hand to do the same. You can spend years trying to forget things, pretending that feelings don’t exist, but when your past rides back into your life, it’s impossible to turn away.

  I settle myself next to him. He is so close that I can hear him breathe. With my heart pounding and sweat glistening my palms, I turn to face him. He is right there, leaning in for a kiss, and my body electrifies with his scent, his touch, and his hot breath scorching my mouth. We break for a moment and stare into each other’s eyes. My body screams Yes, but my mind says No. Never again.

  “Don’t think about it, Aubrey,” he says as if reading my mind.

  I sigh and a slick tear escapes my eye. He kisses me again, wet and hot. Arousal rips through me, bruising my over thinking brain into following along.

  First my pants, then his, drop to the dry rock bed. He slides down between my legs, and with my pussy already dripping with anticipation, he laps his tongue into my folds. In that one hot decided second, I am the old Aubrey, the wild bad girl once again.

  “Fuck, Tom,” I say grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

  In what seems like minutes, my juices ooze, and I am coming, his mouth teasing and tasting and rolling over my clit until I can stand it no more. With my legs shaking from orgasm, he scales my body and kisses me. I can taste myself on his lips, and I feel something snap inside, twisting me into a primal version of the girl I tried so hard to run from. I reach and feel Tom’s cock, rock-hard in my hand. I put my lips to his fat head and gobble him up as if I was starving.

  “God, Aubrey,” he moans.

  He reaches under my arms and pulls me up so that my crotch is level with his throbbing cock. We don’t stop to consider a condom. I straddle him and lower my dripping snatch on to him, rising and falling, with a rhythm that smacks my clit so fiercely that I again feel my pleasure build. Faster and faster, I pump on his cock. He squeezes my breasts, holding me in place while I fuck him into oblivion. Whiteness slips behind my eyes, and my pussy puckers as another mind-blowing orgasm rips through me.