Her eyes were still on Sebastian, who was beginning to look amused at my annoyance with the woman.

Instead of answering, I waited until the rude waitress looked at me before answering. "I would like a sweet tea, please. The little girl down on the end," I said pointing at Max and Katy. "Would like a corndog platter with a sweet tea."

She smiled sourly at me before turning her gaze back to Sebastian. "And for you?"

"I'll have the same as her. Only I don't want lettuce or mustard." He answered, not even giving her his eyes. Instead, they stayed on me, and my face started to flush.

Elliott, the comedian of the Free group, laughed.

Elliott was the type of man you would consider the cla.s.s clown. Despite the humor, he also had one h.e.l.l of an intensity about him. He came off as the joker, but if you watched his eyes, you could tell that he was also hyperaware of his surroundings. He was the shortest and smallest of the group, but that didn't mean he was a runt by any means. At 5'11 and two hundred pounds, he reminded me of a runner or a swimmer; even a surfer with his s.h.a.ggy blonde hair.

"Oh, man," he wheezed. "You are so f.u.c.ked."

My eyes traveled from Sebastian's amused ones to Elliott's mirthful ones. What the h.e.l.l were those two talking about?

"Don't worry about them, honey. How was work today?" Blaine, Elliott's wife, asked me.

Blaine was just Blaine. No words could really describe her. She was cute. Like a fairy. She was what I pictured Katy growing up to look like.

She was on the small side; okay, more like the tiny side, since she was about four inches shorter Elliot and skinny as a wisp. Her hair was blonde and styled to perfection, and her cute little floral patterned dress fit her perfectly.

She was also the first one to welcome me into the Free group of women, and I counted Blaine as one of my closest friends.

Sebastian I watched as the woman, Baylee, tried her hardest to figure out just what Elliott, the little weasel d.i.c.k, was talking about, and failed. She looked overtly confused, and it amused me to watch the wheels turning in her head.

And what a gorgeous head it was.

She was around five and a half feet, about one hundred and thirty pounds, and smoking hot. She was the exact type of woman that I'd always been attracted to, yet never dated because they had an air about them that clearly said, 'Relationship only material.'

However, I was willing to make an exception, for once. The woman had an a.s.s that could make a grown man cry and those muscular thighs of hers, the ones I'd seen in nothing but tiny f.u.c.king skirts and shorts, just begged to be pressed close to her chest while I f.u.c.ked the ever-loving s.h.i.t out of her.

Her hair was dirty blonde and hung down to about mid back in soft waves. It was the perfect length for me to sink my big hands into, and yank back while I took her from behind. The bangs at the front were parted and off to the side, tucked neatly behind each ear. Each time she spoke or moved her head, they would slip from behind her ear, and my fingers itched to brush the strands back into place with a ferociousness that surprised me.

She was wearing a black halter-top, a tight blue jean skirt, and sparkly flip-flops that fit her personality perfectly.

Don't let me forget those bright f.u.c.king yellow panties that molded to her a.s.s like a second skin underneath that skirt, either.

When I'd seen her in the car, a.s.s in the air, cursing as she tried to make her way out of the backseat, I'd nearly come in my pants like a p.u.b.escent little kid.

I had complete control over my body. That included my d.i.c.k. I came when I wanted, and how I wanted. No excuses. For the woman currently speaking sweetly to Blaine, the weasel d.i.c.k's wife, to produce that sort of reaction in me was a bombsh.e.l.l to say the least.

h.e.l.l, even when the woman had walked in on me taking a p.i.s.s, my d.i.c.k had been so hard that I'd had to stop peeing so I didn't miss the f.u.c.king bowl.

Earlier, when I'd asked about the little girl, and then the man the girl belonged to, I'd been like a feral dog with the last piece of meat. h.e.l.l, I'd barely been able to keep myself seated. What I really wanted to do was shout out, 'She's mine, f.u.c.kers.' Yet, I'd managed to stay seated and watched Elliott out of the corner of my eye, smiling like a f.u.c.king cat that ate the G.o.dd.a.m.n canary.

Oh, and let's not forget to mention the fact that Luke Roberts was her brother. Luke and I have not seen eye to eye since we'd met about three years ago, when I'd been in an accident that had taken the life of my child's mother.

The accident had been totally and completely f.u.c.ked up.

I'd been following Max's wife, Payton, when she'd left to go to work. Payton was a cute, s.p.u.n.ky little thing that I thought was cute as h.e.l.l. Although I'd never f.u.c.k her, I liked her personality, and the way she kept Max on his toes.

Why was I following her? I couldn't f.u.c.king tell you. My father had a f.u.c.ked up sense of smell that always told him when trouble was afoot and surrounding his kids. I'd been following Payton because one of the other members of the club had lost her, and I'd picked her up on a side street where I was meeting my ex, Lindsey, for lunch to discuss our situation involving our son.

I'd tried to just leave, but the woman refused, even going as far as to jump on the back of my bike, holding on with everything she was worth.

I'd never given her a ride before. I'd never given anyone a ride before. I had a rule that if I was going to ride, it was going to be alone. Except, I'd allowed her to ride. Even though every cell in my body urged me not to. Look how that ended.

That act had cost her her life.

I'd only thought the ride would be just to the street and back so I could keep an eye on Payton's car. When the prospect who'd been following Payton finally made his appearance, I'd gone through the intersection, pa.s.sing Payton's car, and was. .h.i.t broadside, throwing both Lindsey and myself from the bike.

Lindsey had been dead on impact. It was only the quick work of Payton and Gabe, another member of Free, which kept my son from dying right along with Lindsey.

I hadn't been as badly hurt, but the two collapsed lungs had f.u.c.ked with my heart, and I was in the hospital for over two weeks, and couldn't see my son.

A few days later when I'd found out that the same b.i.t.c.h was in the hospital two doors down from me, I'd taken care of the loose end.

Let's just say that she was no longer a problem after that.

That's where Luke had appeared in my life, asking questions, and poking his nose where it didn't belong.

So, in all, Baylee spelled trouble, with a capital T.

Did that stop me, though?

h.e.l.l no.

"So where're you from?" I asked Baylee, interrupting her conversation about shoes with Blaine.

Baylee's eyes traveled to mine slowly, and then she smiled. "Caspar, Wyoming. You?"

"Texas. Galveston." I answered immediately.

My explanation sounded abrupt, but I couldn't get my f.u.c.king tongue to work right. Closing my eyes and forcing myself to stop acting like a blushing bride, I took a drink of my beer and moved my eyes to Baylee's full lips.

f.u.c.k, but then I started imagining her with those beautiful Cupid 's bow lips wrapped around my hard c.o.c.k, touching the base of my d.i.c.k as I plowed deep down her pretty little throat.

What the f.u.c.k was wrong with me?

"Luke said he wanted to take Katy there soon. Do you live there or here?" Baylee asked sweetly, jolting me out of my daydream.

"Uhh," I said smartly. "Neither. I live in Benton, Louisiana now. I don't visit home very often. My mom's there, so every other Christmas my sister and I head down there to show our faces, and then come right back."

"Then what are you doing here?" She asked, confused. "Is this where your sister lives?"

"Yeah," I pointed at Shiloh. "That's my sister right there. Shiloh."

Shiloh let out a wave when she saw me pointing at her, and I smiled before turning back to Baylee.

"I didn't know she was your sister! How often do you all visit each other? I moved down here because my brother was here. We've always been very close." She smiled.

Oh, I wasn't there for anything much. Only to meet with the parole officer in Shreveport, check on my sister to make sure she wasn't being mistreated, and then kill someone. Well, maybe not kill someone per say, but a broken kneecap or two wasn't out of the question. Every day work for the VP of Dixie Wardens MC.

Elliott's snort said he caught my diversion from the fact of why I was really here.

Then my sister had to go ruin my high by acting like a lovesick fool.

Shiloh squealed like she'd been branded on the a.s.s, and launched herself out of her seat, throwing her body into her husband's arms. James caught her easily, and curled her into his chest, his eyes closing.

I still didn't know what to think of them being together. I'd met James before Shiloh even knew he existed. Our paths had crossed on numerous occasions, but it wasn't until Shiloh had shown up to the fight night that took place at one of The Dixie Wardens' warehouses, once a week, that I knew they were serious about each other.

He'd protected my sister with his life when I didn't; so, in my book, James was allowed to have my sister, under the condition that he treated her like the precious jewel that she was. One-step out of line and I'd feed him to The Dixie Wardens, who considered her their princess.

My lip curled when I saw the man that came in the door behind James, and the only thing keeping me from exiting the restaurant right then and there was the man's sister that was sitting across the table from me.

Luke looked to be in a good mood until he spotted me sitting next to his sister, and then he stomped over towards us, a scowl fixed on his pretty face.

"What are you doing here?" Luke barked once he reached Baylee's side.

"My sister invited me to eat with her, why?" I replied innocently.

Luke's eyes narrowed on me, and it was everything I could do not to burst out laughing. It must really chap the man's a.s.s to see the two of us sitting so close.

Leaning back in my chair, I stretched my long legs out from under me, and accidentally b.u.mped Baylee's chair, causing her to jump at the contact. Luke's eyes narrowed even more.

"There were no more chairs when I got here. This was the only spot." I finally answered.

"Do you two know each other?" Baylee asked.

My eyes left Luke's murderous ones, and connected with Baylee's beautiful smoky blue ones. She really was f.u.c.king beautiful.

"Yeah, we met about two and a half years ago." I confirmed.

Baylee smiled. "How nice! Where'd you meet?" Baylee asked.

Luke looked to me and waited for me to answer, wondering how I'd get out of revealing that I'd killed my pregnant ex, but I sidestepped.

"I was in a motorcycle accident, and your brother was the officer taking statements." I explained.

"Well, that sucks. Although, I've seen plenty of those in my time. Glad you're okay." Baylee said sweetly.

The girl just had no clue. She was an innocent; probably never been exposed to anything bad in her entire life. Which was why I wondered how the h.e.l.l I was going to play this. There was no way that Luke was just going to stand by and let me get with his sister.

Baylee wouldn't know what to do if she ever got around the club and saw all the s.h.i.t that went down. I'd be better off just f.u.c.king leaving this one alone; yet, my body and my heart wouldn't let me There was something about the girl that made me feel again.

I hadn't had these kind of feelings in....well, ever.

I didn't want to have feelings. Feelings led to s.e.x. s.e.x led to love. Love led to f.u.c.ked-up-ville.

"Yeah, it wasn't very pleasant." I agreed solemnly.

She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the edge of the table; eyes animated as she listened to me explain the accident in detail.

"So you coded? Any internal bleeding?" She asked eyes wide.

"No, the internal bleeding was minimal. Chest hurt like a f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h for months though, after they did CPR. Or that machine did." I admitted. "Had a circle printed bruise for nearly a month."

"They put the Geezer Squeezer on you?" She gasped.

I grimaced. Even remembering the pain after that made my chest hurt. Absently, I rubbed my chest, remembering the explanation for the round circle on my chest when I'd woken up.

The nurse had explained that I'd had quite a bit of bleeding, and while they'd put me on an automated CPR machine, a "Thumper" a.k.a. 'geezer squeezer,' to take over the CPR while they got the bleeding under control. The lovely gash down my side one of the main sources of the bleeding. However, once that was closed up, I'd gone into shock from loss of blood, eventually stopping my heart.

Her brother decided that he didn't like how animated Baylee was getting, and pulled up a chair, situating himself at the very head of the table, and efficiently putting distance in between the two of us just by that one maneuver.

"So that scar under your arm...was that from the accident?" Baylee asked, ignoring her brother's obvious attempt to break up the conversation.

I nodded, taking a sip of my beer. "Yeah, not really sure what I caught it on. Maybe the bike, I don't really know. Was about an inch deep all the way down my side, from armpit to hip. The doctor that worked on me in the ER said he could see bones and muscles. It was really not fun. f.u.c.king hurt. Chest hurt more though. They broke my sternum."

"Yeah, that's normal. Freaked me out completely when it happened to me with my first patient. When you're doing CPR and that first bone breaks, there's this G.o.d-awful crunch, and then with each push down from then on you can hear the bones sc.r.a.ping together." She explained before Blaine made a gagging sound.

Luke's face was impa.s.sive, as was Elliott's, as well as the rest of the table that was now listening to our conversation. Blaine was the only one not in the medical field or the police/military occupation, and looked horrified and disgusted.

"Oh, my G.o.d. Please, I'm trying to eat here." Blaine gagged.

"Oops. I'm sorry. It's a pretty normal conversation for me." Baylee apologized sheepishly.

The rest of the table had seen it, heard about it, or experienced it all before. I had seen enough of that s.h.i.t while in the Marines that hardly anything affected me anymore. Not to mention in my career.

"I guess I should be thankful you weren't talking about a STD or something." Blaine murmured as she stuck another dip-covered chip into her mouth.

"Maybe next time. Although that conversation won't have anything to do with me." I teased.

"You get around enough that it could be about you." Shiloh yelled from her end of the table.

Reaching my hand into the roll basket, I picked one up and launched at my sister, hitting her in the chest. "Keep that s.h.i.t to yourself."

Shiloh's eyes were filled with laughter as she picked the roll up and took a bite of it. "If the shoe fits, brother."

The rest of the night was moving along smoothly until my pager started going off. Yes, a pager. Benton Fire Department didn't believe in modern technology. Well, to be truthful, they just plain couldn't afford it.

I worked at the Benton fire department, as did quite a few of the other members of The Dixie Wardens MC.

When the club had first formed, it had been mostly dirty. However, once my father had arrived and became an influential member, they started to turn around. Slowly, the good started outweighing the bad, and most of the newer members were upstanding members of the small town and the surrounding community, such as police officers, ex-military, and firefighters.

The club slowly turned from illegal money to completely legitimate businessmen. That's not to say that everything we did was legal, but that was all moral code. Everything we did business wise was upheld in the eyes of the law. The old timers that didn't like it either left, or got the f.u.c.k over it.