Lullaby dies, p.1
Lullaby Dies, page 1
Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2024 Beth D. Carter
ISBN: 978-0-3695-0980-2
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Lisa Petrocelli
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
Thanks to everyone at Evernight, especially to Lisa who gave this one two thumbs up. To Lark who is the BESTEST best friend ever. And to all who stuck with the Death Riders. I hope you like this one.
LULLABY DIES
Death Riders MC, 5
Beth D. Carter
Copyright © 2024
Chapter One
Seven Months Ago
“This is gonna be epic!”
Ghost glanced behind him at Bolt, trying hard not to roll his eyes. Bolt was like a kid in a candy store. Easily distracted by shiny things and sugar.
“It’s just a poker game,” Ronin grumbled.
“Look, you pop your head out of the sand once, maybe twice a year,” Bolt grumbled, “so when you come to play poker with us peons, I can’t help but get excited.”
“Don’t you dare get a hard-on,” Ronin said harshly. “I will break your dick.”
“Is that before or after he humps your leg?” Thorn asked.
“Mid-hump,” Ronin clarified. “Before he blows his load. I quite like these jeans.”
“You all suck.” Bolt pouts.
Some type of bluesy song spilled out of the door when Ghost opened it. The Poke and Tickle Honkey-Tonk was more of a dive bar, but it had good food, great ambiance, and a section set aside for poker games. Old rock played through the speakers, not too loud. The bartender greeted them as they filed in since the MC were frequent visitors, playing poker every Thursday.
“He’s paying!” Ghost called to the bartender, pointing at Ronin, who flipped him off.
“Bring a round of tequila shots and a couple pitchers of beer,” Thorn ordered.
Half the area was devoted to the typical bar setting, with small tables the servers had to maneuver around to deliver drink and food. The other half had tables set up for poker and various other card games. As Ghost led his brothers toward the poker tables, he accidentally ran into a woman rushing by.
“Ouch!” she said, bouncing off his hard body.
He grabbed her arms to make sure she didn’t fall. “Sorry.”
“Of course you are.” She sniffed, looking him up and down. “You’re nothing but a walking mountain of muscle, aren’t you?”
He didn’t release her right away, staring down into her dark, almond-shaped eyes. The world tilted, like he was falling sideways. Maybe it was her sphere. A pulsing energy that made his body react with a flood of lust that went right to his dick. Her skin was a lovely shade of mocha. Her hair was parted down the center and tied into two pom-poms, one above each ear. Dark eyes heated the longer she stared at him. She took his breath away.
He’d seen beautiful women aplenty. Wasn’t hard to get pussy when one was in a motorcycle club. He’d fucked more in the three years of being in the civilian world than in the twenty years of being on the police force. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly made this woman different, and he wanted to know why. He’d always been a sucker for a mystery.
“Thank you,” he said, amused. “I think.”
Even though she narrowed her eyes, a smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “Don’t let it go to your head, pretty boy.”
He narrowed his eyes right back at her. “Do I look like a boy?”
This time, when she looked him up and down again, it was with feminine appreciation. She watched him like he was a lollipop she wanted to lick, and he’d happily let her. “You look like breakfast to me.”
He tilted his head. “Bacon with a side of eggs?”
“Only if you’re lucky.”
Winking, she eased back and walked around him. Ghost stared after her, admiring how her jeans molded to her ass. His cock certainly liked the plump cheeks, and he had a vision of palming them while he plowed into her.
“If you’re done eye-fucking her,” Ronin said sarcastically, “would you like to join us?”
Ghost reluctantly followed him to the table Thorn and Bolt sat around, although he no longer felt like playing poker. What he wanted to do was head after the woman who wanted to eat him for breakfast. Perhaps he could convince her for lunch and dinner, as well. He had to adjust himself in his suddenly too-tight jeans.
“Do you know who that woman was?” he asked as he sat down.
“New blood,” Bolt said. “Think I may have a chance?”
“Touch her and die,” Ghost growled.
Bolt waggled his eyebrows “Oh, calling dibs, are we?”
“You’re annoying as shit.”
“Come, children,” Thorn broke in. “We’re here to play cards. Not fuck around with women.”
A server sat down the drinks that Thorn had ordered, including four ice-frosted mugs. Ronin gave her a twenty-dollar tip, causing her to wink. Thorn picked up the tequila shots and proceeded to knock back all of them, one after another. Then he filled a glass with beer and took a deep drink. Ever since the damn blonde left him, Thorn had been sliding down a slope to self-destruction, and Ghost had no idea how to help him.
Ronin grabbed the deck that rested with the chips residing in the center of the table. “What stakes are we playing for?”
“Who gets to punch Bolt first?” Ghost asked.
Bolt flipped him off.
“I’m not touching him,” Thorn stated. “I’m sure he has a disease or two I don’t want to catch.”
“What is this? Shit on me day?”
“Isn’t that every day?” Ghost asked.
“I’m not interested in coprophilia,” Ronin muttered.
Bolt leaned close to Ghost. “What’s that?”
“The answer is crappy,” he replied. “Let’s play for bragging rights.”
Thorn held up a wad of cash. “Why not this?”
“Because a lot of us don’t have a pile of hundreds to throw around,” Ghost muttered. “Lost my pension, remember?”
“Start taking cases like me and you’ll have plenty,” Ronin said blithely as he shuffled the deck.
“We all have our place in the club. Mine is not in direct competition with you.” He gathered the cards dealt as Ronin slid them his way.
“There’s enough to go around, brother. But you have to lay aside your policeman morals if you’re going to do what I do.”
The Death Riders MC managed the laundering of many clubs, but some of the men did a lot of side work. Nothing was off limits, and that included being a gun for hire. It had been one hole Ghost had been a little reluctant to fall into, and he blamed his lost career. He’d been caught giving information to his brother, Kix, the president of the White Death MC. Despite their name, they weren’t a racist group. Their name came from a Finnish sniper who managed to kill a lot of damn Nazi during World War II.
He tried very hard not to blame his brother. It had been his choice, after all, to break the law. But it was fucking hard to not be angry. He needed to make amends with his brother, because he’d never met his niece and nephew. It was just so damn difficult to push all the toxic shit away.
Ghost drummed his fingers, thinking. “It’s time to take my head out of my ass, isn’t it?”
“We all have to move at our own pace, brother,” Ronin said softly. The cool green of his eyes contrasted sharply with his dark skin, and just as cold. Ghost seriously doubted the man had a conscience. Or a soul.
“I’ll talk with Brim when he comes back.”
“Not sure if Brim is all there anymore,” Bolt muttered.
“Don’t,” Thorn snapped, anger contorting his features. “He’s dealing with something hopefully we’ll never know.”
Bolt’s red coloring only enhanced the flush on his cheeks, but luckily Thorn got distracted once more with his drinking. He, too, was dealing with female problems. Were women worth it? Ghost glanced around the bar until he saw her and silently admitted that maybe they were. Or at least, worth it for a hot fuck or two.
They played a few hands. Thorn continued to drink, Bolt continued to lose, and Ronin’s pile of chips grew steadily larger. Good thing he only played once or twice a year.
Then the music pumping through the speakers silenced and a spotlight turned on, aiming at the small stage at the other end of the bar. A sultry beat floated through the speakers. A beautiful, husky voice rippled through the microphone, and it was like warm silk flowing over his skin. Forgetting completely about the card game, he laid down his hand and turned.
It was her on stage, singing to some pop song he didn’t know but now was obsessed with. Or perhaps he was simply obsessed with the singer. Not even bothering to say another word to his brothers, he rose and headed toward the stage. Her voice was a siren song luring him to his death, and he was ready to be slain. Blindly passing dancers, he parked himself right at the front to look up at her.
And she stared down at him with a come-hither smile.
Heat flooded through his body. A buzzing that prickled against his skin which was not at all unpleasant. She stared at him like he was a succulent morsal she wanted to devour, and truth be known, he wanted to devour her right back. He’d been attracted to many women in his lifetime, but this one … there was something about her that was different. Maybe this is what Thorn had felt with Chase. Instant lust abso-fucking-lutely, but also a heat shooting right into his heart. Ghost wanted to fuck her, no doubt about it, but he also wanted her to sing just for him.
Preferably naked.
She sang one more song before the stage spotlight went dark. He walked around to the stairs and held out his hand to his mysterious lady. Instead of taking it, however, she crossed her arms over her chest.
“You think I can’t traverse these steps?”
“Not at all,” he replied. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
One eyebrow quirked as she studied him. “That patch on your chest pretty much screams you’re bad news.”
“I thought women liked tattoos and an air of badassery,” he said. More like challenged. “I’m Ghost.”
“Seriously? You expect me to call you Ghost?”
“You can call me whatever you want, baby. My real name is Jeffrey Rockwood, if that makes you feel better.”
Just when he thought she wasn’t going to relent, she uncrossed her arms and slid her hand into his.
“Sidonie,” she replied. “Sidonie Brendel.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but she stepped back and put her hand on her hip. “All right, biker boy. I need to get back to work.”
“Am I taking you home tonight?”
“Nope.”
He nodded, understanding. “Fair enough. You work tomorrow?”
“I do.”
He winked at her. “Then I know where I’m going to be.”
“I’m not taking you home tomorrow, either.”
“That’s all right. My momma always told me the best things come to those who wait.”
“You get lucky often with that silver tongue of yours?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I don’t remember any other woman before you.”
She gave him a stern look, but a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Well played, pretty boy.” Then she leaned forward, her mouth hovering right above his. He wanted to meet it, but he held back, letting her move at her own pace. Besides, he was enjoying their war of words. “Your momma was right. I am the best thing to wait for.”
She winked and left him standing there, dick harder than fucking concrete. Something told him he had just met his future.
****
Every night she worked, he was there siting at the bar, nursing a beer. Watching her, although some might call it stalking. He had no idea what it was that captivated him so much, but she was a Nubian goddess he wanted to worship.
The nights she didn’t work, he was off doing contract work. Thorn ran the Death Riders like Brim did, and promoted him to extermination jobs. Sure enough, Ronin was right. The money in his safe was steadily growing. Once he saved up enough, he planned to buy a house. When he left his old life behind, he walked away from everything, including the condo he had. Once he joined the Death Riders, he moved into the clubhouse. Now, however, he had a desire to put the past behind him and set down some roots.
A hand ran over his shoulders and he looked around. Some woman he didn’t know came to stand by his side. She was dressed cheaply, smelled even worse, and he disliked how her bones stuck out like she was emaciated.
“Hey,” she said, her voice a bit nasally. “Looking for a good time?”
“Not with you,” he said.
“Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” she said, running a finger one arm. “We can go into the bathroom and I can give you a happy ending.”
“Get your fucking hands off me,” he snarled. “My woman works here, and she’s the only one who gets to touch me.”
“She doesn’t need to know-”
“He told you no, you fucking skank,” Sidonie’s voice came from behind them. She walked up to him and slid her arm over his shoulder.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman said, looking scared. She rubbed her nose like she was needing a fix. “He came on to me.”
“Sure, like he’d want your skinny ass. Get the fuck out of here.”
“But—”
Sidonie took a step forward. “I said get the fuck out. In case you’re too stupid to realize, I’m his woman. If I ever see you in here again, I’ll take great pleasure in smashing your face in.”
The woman jerked back and practically tripped over her feet running away. Ghost smiled up at Sidonie.
“That was so fucking hot,” he said, snaking an arm around her hips and maneuvering her between his legs. “You being all violent and shit has my dick harder than steel. Are you finally taking me home?”
She draped her arms around his neck. “I guess. After all, I am your woman.”
“Damn straight.” He leaned up and kissed her on the mouth. It was their first kiss, and even though it was completely chaste, it still rocked his world. He licked his lips. “You taste amazing.”
She leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “Every. Inch. Of. Me. Tastes amazing.”
He closed his eyes on a groan. “Fuck me.”
“Gonna be able to hold out till I get off work?”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
Sidonie leaned close and kissed him again on the mouth. “Then watch my ass sashay around this bar, knowing you’re gonna be plowing it soon.”
He groaned and she smiled as she walked away, putting a little extra swing in her backside.
Chapter Two
What the hell am I doing?
The mantra repeated over and over in her head as she drove home, with Ghost riding his bike behind her. Was she crazy? He was a biker. Wasn’t their motto “wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am?” Did that mean after sex he’d never talk to her again? Which would be a shame because the man was hawt! His ass so tight she could bounce a quarter off it, and she should know since she’d been staring at it every chance she got.
In the past she’d found white guys attractive, but she’d never been with one. But a dick was a dick, right? In any case, she hoped this biker man knew how to use his … as well as fingers, and tongue, and whatever else he had up his sleeves.
She pulled into her apartment complex, shut off the engine, and took a deep breath. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest, not from fear but excitement. It’d been a long time since she had a lover and she missed sex. Ghost rolled into a spot next to her car and parked before taking off his helmet. He flashed a bright smile her way, and her pussy clenched in anticipation. The man was lethal to her libido. Sidonie exited her car and locked it before waiting for Ghost on the sidewalk.
“I hope you don’t have the early shift tomorrow,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. “Why? Gonna hide my body?”
He chuckled. “No, but I’ll probably still be fucking it.”
“Got the stamina to back up that claim, mister?”
He snaked a hand around her waist and yanked her into his arms. She stared at his mouth for a moment before slowly raising her eyes to meet his scorching gaze. They hadn’t even made it inside and already she was panting like a bitch in heat.
“I’m gonna make it my mission in life to make sure I blow your mind,” he murmured.
She smiled. “Come on, lover boy.”
Grabbing his hand, she turned and walked up to her building. Her apartment was on the top floor and they walked up the metal staircase that always moved with each step.
“This doesn’t seem safe,” he said.
“And it’s loud, which I like. Gives me a warning if anyone is coming up.”
They stopped by the door while she unlocked it. After he entered, he closed the door and flipped the deadbolt.
