Death Dwellers MC 2
by Kathryn C. Kelly Genre: Contemporary MC Romance
Meggie. The beauty who tamed the biker.
She believes her future is bright. Her baby boy. the love of her man and the affection of the Death Dweller brothers fill her with contentment. Now, the only thing she wants is to have her marriage blessed in a church ceremony.
Outlaw. The bad boy who fell for the beauty.
When a new threat rides into town and puts a target on his woman's back, Christopher "Outlaw" Caldwell is forced to confront a past that has him questioning if Megan belongs with him or not. Standing in a sanctuary reciting sacred vows suddenly seems a useless exercise. He wants vengeance and blood. Love and romance have no place in a world of violence and vengeance. The more he pushes her away, the more Megan lures him in. She sees him as Christopher, but Outlaw is in his blood. Just as he always feared, the man she believes him to be and the one he is collide, risking the most important thing of all: Megan's life.
Warning: For mature audiences only. Contains sex, drugs, violence, and excessive profanity.
“Megan,” he said quietly, then snapped his mouth shut, not sure where to start. He was good as fuck at being dirty with her, but sweet words didn’t come easy to him. Even when their sex was gentle, he still thought of it as fucking. Deep down, though, he knew he was making love to her. But he wondered if she knew. Did she understand how he felt about her even though he just said he loved her and none of the other romantic bullshit she deserved? “Megan, I ain’t a romantic motherfucker.”
She looked up at him and gave him an uncertain smile.
He pulled an envelope out of the inside of his jacket and tapped her nose with it. “This letter here is from me to you.” He shrugged. “Cuz I’m me and I ain’t gonna walk around tellin’ you no sonnets every-fuckin-day.” He picked up her hand. “But I promise you, baby. On every anniversary, I’m gonna give you a letter and I’m gonna tell you.” He swallowed. What he was about to say would put his feelings out there more than he ever had, even with Megan. “Maybe, some of your romance shit rubbed off on me. Not sure, baby.”
She cocked her head to the side in that way she had when she listened intently to something.
He laid the letter in her lap, tempted to let her read it, and be done with it. “I love pussy—“ He paused at her frown and pulled at his hair. “I love girls, Megan. I studied bitches as a pastime.” He cleared his throat and winced at her wide eyes. Maybe, he should’ve stuck to the letter. The shit coming out his mouth wasn’t the shit he’d written.
He held up a hand. “Wait, baby. Let me finish.”
Her look skeptical, she nodded.
“But ain’t no girl I ever met make me as hot as you do just by thinkin’ about you. From the moment I met you, Megan, I couldn’t fuckin’ focus on nothin’ and nobody else. All I could think about was you. Wantin’ you and wantin’ to protect you. I once told you you was gonna drive some poor motherfucker and I’m one lucky fuck that it’s me. A girl who challenge her man, hardly never fuckin’ listen to him, tell him to go fuck himself when he pisses her the fuck off is worth every fuckin’ minute of every fuckin’ day. No matter what, baby, I’m always with you. You,” he emphasized and grabbed her neck to pull her close and kiss her. “Those pretty pink lips.” He glided a hand down her arm. “Your beautiful, little body.” He bumped her nose against his. “Those gorgeous fuckin’ eyes of yours. All of you. We real with each other. Me and you. You don’t have to hide a motherfuckin’ thing from me. You can be you. Scared. Happy. Wild. Angry. Kinky. I don’t give a fuck cuz I always got you. No matter how many times you need liftin’ up--” He held out his hand and tapped his fingers in it-- “I’ll catch you and raise you back where you need to be. I love the fuck outta you, Megan, and I ain’t ever gonna stop.”
Megan let out half-laugh, half-sob, tears streaking her cheeks. Christopher swiped them with his thumbs.
“I love you, too, Christopher. You make me hot and lustful for you, but it’s more than that. It’s about the two of us. You make me feel secure and loved and wanted. You’re a wonderful father and husband.” She placed a hand over his heart. “And you have a heart, Christopher. A heart that made me fall in love with you. I’ll always be here for you. No matter how many times you fall—“ She grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it—“I’ll always be there to pull you up. You own me body and soul. You’re my everything.”
He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her with all the tenderness flowing between them. Fuck him, but the look in her eyes made him want her pussy. His nostrils flared. “I want some more pussy, baby.”
“Why did you ruin our romantic moment?” she whined.
“Megan, every-fuckin-thing I said was the God’s honest truth, but I can only take so much mushy shit and mushy time is fuckin’ over.
She shook her head.
“C’mon, baby. You know you want to give me some more pussy in that small fuckin’ airplane bathroom right over there. You’re a freaky little nympho.”
She smirked at him. “Yeah, but I’m your freaky little nympho.”
In her dreams, Kathryn C. Kelly is a flirtatious biker babe with the rumble of a hog between her legs and a shirtless bad boy wrapped in her arms. Kathryn and her bad ass biker boy spend their evenings tossing back great scotch (Chivas Regal) and fighting over who is better at Cards against Humanity (she is, obviously.)
In her reality, Kathryn is a native New Orleanian who has survived Hurricane Katrina and breast
cancer. Now she’s hoping to survive three lively girls. While not playing Wonder Mom, Kathryn can be found putting all those dreams into the pages of her next Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club novel.