Wild Love (Vicious Reapers MC #6)

Prologue

VIKING

TWO AND A HALF YEARS AGO

She’s trashed. Beyond trashed. And sexy as fuck. I watch her body swaying as she animatedly talks to all the other women. I can’t take my eyes off her, not that I ever can. I know that right now, I don’t have to completely watch my back—Piggy isn’t here, so I can make her my complete focus.

She throws her hands up in the air, crying out with excitement; it’s adorable as fuck.

My gaze stays on her, looking nowhere else, because there’s nowhere else to look. Nobody else could matter in this moment. Not even the woman dancing on stage could drag my attention away from Lainey-Rose Colter.

It’s her birthday, and she is a goddamn force to be reckoned with. She’s typically quiet, sweet, and shy. Seeing her this free, this wild, only turns me on more. I wonder if she’s this way in bed, and if she’s not, can I make her?

I’ve never wanted her more than I do right this minute, and I’ve wanted her for years, watching her from a distance. I wonder how much longer I can stay away from her. My fingers itch to touch her, to feel her, to slip inside her.

She turns her head, looking over her shoulder, when her gaze connects with my own. My heart stops fucking beating in my chest instantly. She smiles. I’m seconds from charging toward her, throwing her over my shoulder, and showing her just what that smile does to me.

Lainey shifts her attention back to the stage before my feet can begin to move toward her. That’s good. I don’t need to go after her. I need to stay away from her, not only for my own sake but mostly for hers. I’m not good enough for her. I’ll ruin her.

I exhale, and my heart begins beating again. I don’t know how the fuck I’m holding back, but I am… just barely.

My body practically demands that I take her, that I fuck her, that I keep her.

I can’t do that, though.

Piggy would fucking kill me, and I respect him too much to go behind his back. Even if my body begs me to do just that and hers calls to me. Goose and Ivy are still at odds, even though it’s been a few years since Goose fucked his cousin without telling him, without asking him.

They’re only now somewhat able to coexist in the club without getting into a fight. Lainey is as off-limits as Cidney, maybe even more, because Lainey is Piggy’s sister, not his cousin.

I should walk away, but I can’t. I’m stuck here under strict orders to protect the old ladies for Lainey’s birthday. However, the only thing I want to do is take Lainey away and give her a birthday surprise… in the form of orgasms… multiple ones.

As many as possible and all night long, well into the morning. I can’t stop thinking about her and what I want to do to her. She consumes my thoughts, has consumed them for a while. I want to fuck her hard and fast, slow and easy. I want it all, every piece of her, and I want to keep them—keep her.

Clearing my throat, I try to get rid of the thoughts about Lainey rolling around in my head. It doesn’t work. Her freedom, the way she is absolutely enjoying herself, and as the night continues, gets drunker and drunker, makes me want her more and more.

She’s a force to be reckoned with.

Absolute perfection.

Not because she’s drunk, but because as the night progresses and her inhibitions slowly melt away, she shines even fucking brighter than she ever has. It makes me want her even more than I already did, and I wanted her a hell of a lot.

As the club begins to thin out, the women are being guided by the men to their cars to head home. I stay where I am, watching the women being collected by their old men, and that’s when Piggy walks through the door.

I expect him to make his way over to his sister and an old lady, who are chatting with one another. He doesn’t. Instead, he jerks his chin in my direction and closes the distance between us.

He stops a few feet away, his gaze finding mine as he jerks his chin up slightly. He looks over his shoulder, then shifts his attention back to meet mine before he speaks.

“Can you get Lainey home tonight?” he asks.

I don’t bother asking why. I don’t give a shit why. A chance at being alone in a car for almost an hour with Lainey? Not only yes, but hell fucking yes. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I clear my throat, trying to calm myself down before I respond to him.

“No problem.”

“Thanks,” Piggy murmurs.

A few moments later, Lainey has been collected by Piggy, and we make our way to my waiting car. Bullet suggested—in a way that was more of a demand—that we all bring our cars tonight.

I didn’t have a problem bringing my 1969 Dodge Super Bee A12. I fucking love my car and will drive it whenever I can. It was my dad’s. Probably the only good thing he ever did was buy and keep this car.

I restored it a few years ago, and it looks better than it ever did, even brand new. My dad wasn’t someone who respected anything, not even his car, which is pretty fucking sad. Because this car is sweet as fuck.

I watch as Lainey struggles slightly to fasten her seat belt, which causes my lips to twitch into a smirk. She’s a cute drunk, or maybe I’m just that enamored by her. Once she finally clicks it into place, her head swings around, and her eyes meet mine as she lets out a heavy exhale.

“I didn’t know seat belts could be so exhausting,” she murmurs.

I snort at her words. “Won’t be as hard tomorrow,” I point out.

She shrugs a shoulder, then shifts her attention toward the windshield. I take that as a silent encouragement to head home. I do just that. Shifting my car into Drive, I pull out of the parking lot and head straight toward home.

“Happy birthday, Lainey,” I say quietly. “Did you get everything you wanted?”

I don’t know why I even ask that. Maybe I don’t like the silence inside the car, or maybe I’m trying to keep from pulling over and trying to fuck her. Whatever the case, I ask that question, and then I get an answer, but it’s not what I expect.

Lainey hums. “Everything except you.”

I almost wreck my car by jerking the wheel, but manage to straighten it, then clear my throat before I speak. “Lainey,” I warn.

She shifts closer to my side, moving as far as she can with the restraint of her seat belt. I can smell her. Then I feel her breath against my cheek.

I grip the steering wheel so tightly I can hear it creak beneath my hands. There is an off-ramp half a mile away, and I wonder if I could pull off and give her exactly what she wants, but that would be wrong.

Not only is she trashed, but she’s very much off-limits.

I need to control myself.

Even if control is the last thing I want to have right now. It’s a need, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve done in a long time. Maybe even in years.

“Viking,” she calls out, and she sounds completely sober when she does. Which makes my cock twitch beneath my jeans.

“Lainey,” I grunt.

Her fingers curl around my wrist, then she clears her throat before she speaks, holding on to me, which, honest to fuck, she really should not be touching me right now.

I clench my teeth. I need her to release me.

I’m not sure how much longer I can feel her soft, cool touch on me before I lose my control.

“I want you.”

Fuck.

LAINEY

I don’t know what I’m doing. But it’s exactly what I’ve always wanted to do. I don’t drink, at least not like this, but I couldn’t stay sober with Viking watching me. His eyes were on me all night long.

I’m not used to being around him or any of the Vicious Reapers for long periods of time. I stayed away for good reason, and then I had to go and become friends with all of the old ladies, and now here I am, in the front seat of his badass car, alone with him. And a little drunk.

Okay, more than a little drunk.

But it’s my birthday, and he was watching me. Staring at me. I couldn’t stop drinking. I wanted him to keep looking at me. I wanted his eyes on me, and all I could think to do was lose my inhibitions and continue drinking.

If I didn’t, I probably would have plastered myself to a wall and pinched my eyes closed and hoped for the evening to just end. So many bikers, so many strippers, the whole thing made me feel uncomfortable.

I know it shouldn’t have. Piggy wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and I’ve known all those guys since I was a kid. It’s really more of a me issue. Open and free sex makes me uncomfortable, which is why I’ve always steered clear of the clubhouse. And then there’s Viking.

He’s another reason I’ve steered clear. He’s huge, like an oak tree. Massive with stacked-on muscles. God. I want to lick him, and I don’t think I’ve ever imagined licking a single person on earth, but this man… I want to lick every single inch of him and trace his tattoos with my tongue.

He’s so absolutely beautiful, this man. This massive man.

“You can’t have me, Lainey,” he grinds out as he pulls the car into my driveway.

The embarrassment that slices through me is almost too much to bear. I open the car door and throw my legs to the side. Planting my high heels on the concrete, I feel a hand curl around my bicep.

“Lainey,” he rasps.

I attempt to school my embarrassment, and thankfully, it’s dark enough that I doubt he sees just how red my cheeks are as I look over my shoulder at him. His eyes are focused on mine. They don’t move before he speaks.

“It’s not because I don’t want you, too.”