Dual Desires (Dueling Devils 1)

As the night wore on, Harley became Ardy’s shadow, and Rocket thawed slightly. The tightness in Demon’s chest eased. This would work. The Devils were entering a transitional phase, and he needed to know Harley and Rocket were safe while they expanded and he spent more time away.

After bathing and putting the kids down for the night, Demon led her out onto the patio to talk. She shifted her weight from side to side and looked everywhere but at him. “Did you bring your things?”

“Yes, they’re in the trunk of my car. I didn’t know how we were going to do this, so I left them.” She shrugged.

He nodded. Her nervousness ate at him. After the shit he’d seen with his mom and dad, he never could stomach to see a man abuse a woman. Not to say he wouldn’t defend himself from some crazy bitch. He’d just never use her for a punching bag. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you, Ardy. You’re here to watch over my kid’s, period. No one’s going to fuck with you, okay?”

She took a deep breath. “Okay...”

“This isn’t about revenge on your dad; you just happened to fill a gap. You can relax. Hell, you might even enjoy the change of scenery. Georgia is still the south, but we have a completely different vibe from North Carolina.” A small smile curved her plump lips at the corners, and he bit back a moan. It’s been too long since I got some trim if a coy smile is giving me a hard-on. “I figure we can ease them into things. I’ll bunk on the couch for a few days, and once they’re used to having you around, I’ll move to my own room. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Is there anything I need to know—allergies, favorite toys, or routines they’re particular about?”

The awkwardness melted away as they spoke about their common interests. Soon she knew all the pertinent details, and many of his children’s quirks. With her settled in the hotel room, he couldn’t help but hope the luck in his personal life was looking up. It seemed like one shit storm after the other over the past five years. If they weren’t in the middle of war, he was neck deep in baby mama drama that just kept getting worse. Now there seemed to be a lull. They were working on a peace agreement with a neighboring motorcycle club, referred to as the M.C., and making new deals to bring in money. It was a good time to be a member of the Dueling Devils.

Chapter Two

A knock sounded on the door, and Ardy took a deep breath. Demon had given her fifteen minutes to get ready. Today, she’d meet the rest of his crew. She wiped her sweaty palms on her shirt, smoothing it down over her hips. I can do this. Heart hammering in her chest, she walked to the door and opened it.

“You ready?” With his shades covering his eyes and a white t-shirt spread taut against his muscular frame, Demon was a modern day James Dean.

“Y—yes I’m ready.” She nodded.

“Good, I hate it when a woman takes forever. The kids are going to be driving with Danielle. So, you’re coming with me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” she croaked.

He smirked. “Ever been on a chopper?”

“A few times. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Riding in on the back of my bike will warn people off you faster than any word of mouth.”

“Oh.”

He laughed. “We need to get you up to speed on a few things, sweetheart. It’s been a long time since we had such an innocent among our ranks.”

His laughter took years off him. Like this, he was almost approachable. She stepped out of the room, ignoring the voice screaming in her head that she wasn’t ready, and locked the door behind her. All of her identification was in a small satchel she carried across her shoulders. He glanced down at her and frowned. “I can’t let people take advantage of it. My men are good guys, but the road can be long and lonely, and you’re fresh meat,” he said. The words brought home the seriousness of her situation. Most times, she pretended it was just another babysitting gig to make money. The meeting would make it very real.

She ignored the stares of the townspeople she’d grown up with as she followed him to his bike. The massive machine was almost as intimidating as its owner. Black and shiny with a Dueling Devils emblem on the tank, it screamed powerful. He handed her a matte black helmet and tilted his head to the side. “You know how to get on?”

“I know at least that much,” she said dryly. God, this guy probably thinks I’m an idiot.

“Just checking. Better to assume than have you bust that pretty l

ittle ass of yours.”

Heat filled her cheeks and spread up her neck. She cleared her throat.

“Should I have said butt?”

“No, ass is fine,” she whispered.

His white teeth caught the sunlight, and she was reminded of a wolf—beautiful, masculine, loyal, yet deadly when challenged. He swung his leg over the side of his bike and mounted with the grace of a dancer. One with his bike, he exuded a confident competence that said he could handle anything thrown at him. His large hands were calloused and tan, a laboring man’s hand, like her father’s. She climbed on behind him, using the peg to boost her body up and get her leg over before she sank down on the seat behind him.

“Not bad for a newbie. Soon enough it’ll be like breathing air. Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on tight.”

She licked her lips and encircled his waist gingerly.