Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

We were working, hooking up for more than just a fuck. I truly believed we had more to ourselves than sheet soaking sex.

He was exactly what I needed when I left mama's place forever, watching as the sheriff and the moving crew from the bank moved in and roped off the place where I'd grown up.

Joker helped me christen my new apartment the very first night, throwing me down on the mattress between the boxes.

I sucked his cock on the worn floor, practicing everything he'd taught me. Then he slipped between my legs, fisted my hair, and covered my mouth with his free hand.

I bit him to keep from screaming, just shy of making my new neighbors hate me on day one.

Three weeks blurred by in a blissful storm.

He went back to Knoxville, satisfied he'd finished whatever he'd come here to do with his brother.

I didn't ask. He didn't tell.

“Club business,” he'd growl, whenever I got too close to wondering what he did on that bike without me. “We'll talk about anything in the fuckin' world, babe, except for that.”

I wasn't stupid. I knew he did bad, illegal things because he wore that patch. Busted up bigger bastards than him when they asked for it, and earned his money by the sweat of his mystery.

Hell, I'd known it from day one, that first kiss we'd shared when I was just a stupid kid.

Both the Taylor boys were bad news. But to me, he was the best I'd ever gotten, and I wasn't going to let it slip away without giving it a chance.

Joker kept coming, making the long drive down from eastern Tennessee, usually just for me.

One weekend, Piece came with him. Both of them were here to handle more of that growl-worthy club business that always put me on edge, however much I tried to pretend it didn't exist.

I'd just started working at the drugstore in town when he picked me up. Even through the noise and at least forty feet to the lot, I heard his motorcycle.

Who knew that harsh sound could make a girl smile every damned time?

Then he was there, in front of me.

When this man walked into a room, everything came to a screeching stop. Customers and other employees froze and stared, watching him swagger in between the registers, decked out in dark leather covered in his fearsome patches like a modern day knight.

“Babe, hurry the fuck up and finish your shift,” he growled. “I'm taking you out tonight.”

I looked at the old woman I'd been ringing up apologetically. Surprisingly, she smiled and shot me a wink, readjusting her glasses. I ran her credit card and scooped her stuff into a plastic bag.

“My, he's a big one,” she said, looking at my man like a piece of meat.

Seriously? I blinked, gingerly lifting the bag and passing it into her hands.

“Get out of here and have some fun, girl,” the granny said with a smile. “Men like this don't come around except once in a blood moon.”

She was gone. Thankfully, there hadn't been anyone else behind her, so I turned to Joker.

He'd been giving me that arrogant, hungry look the whole time, the one that pulled at my nipples like an invisible set of clamps. Mercy.

“Did you hear that?” I asked. “Blood moon? What's she talking about?”

“Sounded like blue moon to me.” He shrugged. “Fuck if I know, beautiful. Old spinster's too damned smart for her own good. You heard the woman. Punch the fuck out and let's go.”

Smiling, I sighed and looked over his head, staring at the huge clock mounted on the wall. I had about three more minutes left, but it probably wouldn't hurt to close up a little early.

We passed a rack of cheap tabloids on the way out, filled with the brain candy everyone reads in waiting rooms. Yes, stories about the royal family renting a spare room to Elvis, or how Martians are behind rigging the next election.

One of the magazines had a huge red moon on it. That made me stop and stare, scanning it for a second.

PROPHECY! The headline screamed. Will you survive the next blood moon, or crash and burn?

So, that was where she'd gotten it. I kept walking, following him out to his bike, inwardly laughing off the creepy coincidence. The old lady had to have seen them on her way out, too, and maybe she'd slipped up when she meant to say “blue moon.” Just like Joker said.

Out here, the moon hung big and brilliant red in the sky. Even Joker stopped for a second to stare up at it, whistling into the darkness.

“Fuck me with a bottle. Ain't ever seen a big, red bastard like that hanging in the sky for years. Maybe never.” He turned to me with a wicked smile on his face. “Might be the end of the world tonight, babe. We'd better fuck like rabbits.”

“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes, locking my hands tight around his powerful waist, resting my chin on his shoulder so I had a perfect angle to whisper into his ear. “Is that how you celebrate the end? We were going to do that anyway, right?”

“Damned straight,” he growled, reaching behind us for a second to squeeze my thigh.

My pulse quickened. Blood moon or not, we were getting into some seriously sexy mischief tonight.