Mace & His American Rose: The Scarlet Runners MC Read online

  © 2016, Brair Lake

  All rights reserved by author.

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  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without written permission of the author

  The work in this book is the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to person either living or dead, places, events or locations is purely incidental. The characters and storyline are a work of fiction. The Devil's Comfort MC is about escapism and does not reflect real life in any way.

  Products mention in this book

  EOS Camera

  Harley

  Ford

  Description.

  Mace and his American Rose.

  Avery thought she lived in the perfect world with the perfect family. Then she met a biker and her life fell to pieces. Can Mace give her the love she craves, or will secrets break them?

  Mace has never had a family. He's never wanted one. He's happy being part of The Scarlet Runners. That is until he falls for his enemy's daughter. Can Avery love Mace in the way he deserves? Or can the biker be bought for a price?

  Find out in their story

  Adult advisory due to adult themes.

  This book contains explicit sex and is intended for mature audience of 18+ only

  The Scarlet Runners MC is about escapism and does not reflect real life or real people in anyway.

  If this offends you in any way. Please do not purchase.

  Contents

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue.

  Chapter 1

  Avery indulged in her favorite pastime. The only reason which made these trips into town worthwhile. They were fleeting moments that rarely occurred. She wished she had the nerve to go over and say hi. Something she never did. How could she when her brain forgot how to function, and her tongue become tangled in her words as she spoke. Shit, it wasn’t as though she stammered around anyone else. Only him.

  When dark chocolate brown eyes caught her staring. The familiar heat began to rise in her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze, whilst making a pretense of looking for something in her purse. As she rummaged through the clutter, she came across a pink lipstick while at the same time, she cursed herself for being a coward.

  The tall biker kept her awake at night. She may never have tasted his lips, or inhaled his scent. Yet she knew him more intimately than any other person. She knew every nuance and cranny on his body Every speckle and flaw he possessed. How true her imagination was, she neither knew nor cared. Her tongue knew the taste of his flesh. Her hands, have brushed over the contours of his hard body. Avery groaned, dropping the lipstick without using it. Her feet spinning her towards the store. Her gaze fell on the window. Through the glass she continued to study her biker.

  He wasn’t on his own, he never is. There were several of them, and if you asked her to describe any of them, she’d fail. Her biker is laughing. The sound trailing over her spine. His head thrown back, revealing perfect white teeth. His neck arched, and Avery’s tongue snuck over her lips. Her hands clammy as they itched to reach out and touch him.

  ‘Hi Avery.’ She blinked, her daydream broken. Shanae her stepmother stood beside her. The reason for her unusual stray into town, is to have lunch with Shanae to finalize the details for her father’s birthday party.

  As they approached the restaurant Avery groaned quietly. Instead of choosing a seat inside, Shanae has picked an outside table. She’s also sat with her back to the bikers, and over her step-mother’s shoulder, Avery is able to continue watching the biker.

  His black hair is brushed behind his ear, the edges curling into his nape. Avery’s tongue ran over her lips. His clean shaven face broken by a jagged scar on his left cheek. A good portion of his neck is covered with a large tattoo. From where she sat, Avery couldn’t make the design out. His arms are naked. The muscles bulging, while he stroked the back of some biker whore, whom Avery dismissed, were tattooed, and she wondered if there was a part of him which wasn’t inked. She also wondered if she’d ever have the chance to find out for herself.

  Again his gaze clashed with her. This time, she refused to break contact. To back down. She held the brown eyed gaze with her own blue ones. His smile, lazy as he dipped his head at her. When the familiar rush of giddiness hit her stomach and pussy, Avery grabbed the glass of water, taking a large sip to wet her suddenly parched mouth.

  The smile she returns to Shanae is bland, and with determination Avery attempts to focus on the other woman, determined to put the biker out of her mind.

  ‘…. So your aunt has said she’ll come to the party.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘And I’m thinking of inviting the Marshmallows.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll come too.’ Shanae released a deep breath, her gaze swinging over her shoulder as she scowled at the bikers. A shudder ran through her body as her lips pinch. ‘Ignore them. – They’ll go away.’

  As the heat rose in her cheeks, her gaze flashed towards Shanae. As a distraction, she played with a paper napkin, tearing at the sides as she studied her stepmother. Shanae was only a few years older than her own twenty-four. Her blond hair cut into a sleek neck length bob without a thread out of place. Avery ran fingers through her own hair, the ends were dry, and could do with a trim. Shanae’s makeup is expertly applied, and Avery wished she’s put on more than a coating of mascara and lipstick. The diamond on Shanae’s index finger matched the wedding band surrounded by smaller diamonds. The watch she wore, an authentic Rolex with all the right paperwork, reflected in the sunlight. Shanae is the perfect wife for a judge and no-one commented on the age difference. ‘So who did you say were inviting.’

  ‘No-one. – Avery.’

  ‘Urm.’

  ‘Don’t get involved with them.’

  Avery’s eyebrow arched as she broke the lobster shell. Meat and juices spilled over her fingers. ‘With who.’

  ‘Don’t play dumb – You’ve been watching those bikers for the last half hour.’

  ‘And that’s all I’m doing.’

  Avery leaned against the wall. Her EOS camera hanging in her hand. Instead of returning home after lunch, she had decided to hang around Downy Lakes. She knew she should have obtained permission from the group before she began photographing them, but these pictures were for her private collection.

  Thinking of the upcoming exhibition brought a frown to her clear head. The year she had taken away from Downy Lakes, with a group of friends was to have been fun. A celebration that school was now over, and she was free to leave Downy Lakes. Instead, she found herself in India, working her way through the country to finance her bac
kpacking holiday and hobby. When she returned home, she’d shown the photographs to a friend, who had asked if she was interested in having an exhibition. There had been no hesitation in her answer. She was also writing a book about her adventures.

  Avery held the camera in front of her, aiming it towards the crowd of bikers. Her breath stuck in her throat as she watched the biker stride towards her. Her fingers shaking when she attempted to press the button. When he stopped in front of her. Avery slowly lowered the camera to her side.

  The afternoon heat, which was tolerable, became suffocating. She wanted to run, yet communication between her brain and legs have terminated. The soles of her sneakers have melted into the footpath. Her mouth refused to close as she gawked at the biker. He’s less than three feet away. She can smell him. If she stretched her arm out, she would be able to touch him. There was no escaping him. He surrounded her.

  ‘Hi.’

  Her tongue, twice its normal size, caught on her pallet. Her mouth is dry, and her cheeks are fiery red. ‘Hi.’

  Great, that’s a great start. The man speaks, and her mind melts. His smile spread, revealing the teeth she has admired on many occasions, and Avery wondered if they were capped. He wasn’t touching her, yet she felt every breath he made. His air warming her cheek, caressing her flesh. ‘You’re all grown up Avery.’

  She blinked. The last time she spoke to the biker, she had been fifteen with a bad case of acne, and braces. When she was eighteen, she swapped her glasses for contacts. She’s also lost several pounds. As his eyes roamed over her body, she straightened, thrusting her chest out. He was looking at her with the same glint he has when looking at the other woman. Yet she still couldn’t bring herself to talk. She wanted to turn and run. To hide. While at the same time, she wanted to remain here. Close to him. To enjoy his warmth. His scent. ‘You’re still the same.’

  The biker threw his head back. The laugh came deep from within, and her toes curled. ‘And how do you know me?’

  ‘I’ve - I’ve seen you around.’

  ‘You’ve seen me around. – Want to come for a spin.’

  ‘A - A spin.’

  ‘Yeah on my baby.’

  Avery and the biker, both looked at the Harley. Avery’s gaze drifted to the paint work on the chrome frame. Her fingers ached to trace the lines. The colors, green, red and blue drawing her in. ‘I…’

  The biker’s fingers stroked the wayward hair behind her ear. Her body trembled as the flesh he touched, burned. Annoyed with herself, she drew in a deep breath, stepping away from the biker as she straightened her body.

  ‘You?’

  ‘I better not – I - I have stuff to do.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’

  When the biker went to turn away, she frowned. Her arm outstretched towards him. She’s twenty-four, not fourteen, she reminds herself. ‘Who - Who did the paintwork on your bike.’

  The biker stopped, his smile generated a shining glint in his brown gaze, and Avery’s stomach did its usual flip.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Again, there was that undercurrent of laughter which has Avery looking everywhere but at the biker. When they stopped by the bike, he mounted his bike. His fingers combing through his hair, then he was fastening the helmet in place. ‘Are you getting on.’

  Avery stepped away, her gaze returning to the main paint work. Mixed in the flames of the colors, was a golden eagle. Its head facing towards the handlebar. The biker’s voice broke her fascination with the artwork, and she finally gave into temptation, running her fingers over the head of the bird. Her fingers brushed against his denim covered leg, and she swiftly pulled her hand away, rubbing it over her thigh. ‘No – I really have to go – But thanks for the offer.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Conscious of the eyes of the other bikers on her, her returning smile is weak. ‘Look – I – I have an – exhibition coming up – Maybe – Maybe you’d like to come.’

  Avery’s eyelashes batted against her cheeks as she stared at the biker. Unable to believe what she has done, she desperately wanted to retract her invitation. Fervently she was wishing she hadn’t made the offer. That she hadn’t opened her big mouth. That it had all been in her head. ‘When is it.’

  ‘Friday night.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘At Sylvia’s art gallery’

  ‘Is it a single invite?’’

  Avery’s heartbeat gradually began to slow down. Reality hit her. Her gaze fell on the woman whom the biker had fondled earlier. She was on her own bike. Her pale amber eyes watching her.

  ‘No… No – It’s open house. The more the merrier.’ Avery brushed off her disappointment with a smile which didn’t reach her heart.

  Chapter 2

  Avery’s gaze flicked towards the door for what seemed like the millionth time. As the clock on the wall ticked. The second hand bounced between each number, showing the time to be nine-seventeen and twenty-two, no twenty-three seconds. Avery decided her biker was going to be no show. Her shoulders slumped as she gulped back the last of the champagne, wondering how soon she could leave.

  Her smile ached and her teeth are beginning to grind. Her back throbbed, and her feet burned from the damn shoes she is wearing. With a frown, she glanced at her toes. The nails painted pale green with some sort of palm tree on her large toes.

  ‘Hello Avery.’

  Her body froze as her lungs deflated. Her gaze remained on the leather boots. As she blinked, she counted the eyelets his laces are threaded through. Only stopping when she came to the double knot. Slowly, her gaze wandered up the denim encased legs. Swiftly she averted her gaze from his crotch. His cut lay open, revealing a black tee-shirt with a whisky emblem flashing across the front, and all she could think of, was she could do with one of those drinks. Her gaze came to his full brown lips. Her tongue licked her own lips as she pulled the lower lip into her mouth. She wanted to taste him. To tease his lips, and slowly she found herself being pulled towards him.

  His lips curved into a smile and she blinked, lifting her gaze up to his brown eyes. Her stomach dropped at the warmth. At the invitation. Her hands and fingers yearned to reach out and touch him. To stroke his flesh. ‘Hello Mace.’

  ‘Ah, so you do remember my name.’

  ‘Everyone in Downy Lakes knows who you and the Scarlet Runners are.’

  ‘Ah, my fame.’ Mace reached over to stroke the loose brown tendrils at the side of her face. His touch soft, as his fingers swept over her ear. All Avery wanted to do, was to sink into him. To surround herself in his scent. Instead, she shook his hold free, grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waitress. Her teeth grating as she watched the look pass between the biker and the young woman. With a smile, she dismissed the waitress, passing the glass to Mace. ‘Don’t believe everything you hear.’

  ‘So it’s all a lie then.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘That you and your friends rule Downy Lakes’

  His deep chuckle ran down her spine, and to calm her frayed nerves, she sipped her drink. The golden liquid doing nothing to ease the tension within her. ‘We don’t rule Downy Lakes. We just look after what’s ours.’

  Mace switched his attention to the photographs on the wall, and Avery found herself following him as his gaze flickered over the prints. As she watched him for his reactions, disappointment flooded her at his lack of emotion.

  ‘You took these.’ It was more of a statement than a question, and Avery nodded with a frown. ‘It’s my exhibition.’

  ‘Do you have anything else to drink besides this stuff.’

  Avery’s gaze fell to Mace’s untouched glass. ‘You should try it. It’s good stuff.’

  His smile deepened as he sipped the Pol Rogers, a personal favorite of Sir Winston Churchill’s. His hand slipped naturally around her waist, and her feet came to a stop. The air stilling in her throat while her flesh burned. Then she smiled, forcing her body to relax as t
hey moved on to the next photograph. ‘You – You came on your – own.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Avery.’

  Avery closed her eyes. When she attempted to step out of his hold, his grip pinched into her waist as he glared at the blond. Shanae is standing in front of her. Her pearly pink painted lips compressed as she dismissed the biker. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can I have a word with you.’

  Avery gave a slight tilt of her head. Mace was still refusing to release his hold. If anything he stepped closer. She buried her giggle with a gurgle. As a teenager, she never rebelled against either of her parents. She’d accepted her father’s third marriage to Shanae, and her mother’s marriage to a much younger man without a batter of an eyelid. Now she felt empowered as her stepmother ignored Mace.

  ‘What is it?’

  Shanae’s lips tightened further, her fingers clenching her own champagne flute. Red nails caught Avery’s attention. ‘It’s about the guest list.’

  ‘Guest list – You mean for Dad’s party.’

  ‘No – This evening’s.’

  Avery scowled as she looked about the room. Her body instinctively moving closer to Mace’s so that they were brushing against each other. ‘What about it? It looks as though everyone you and Dad invited, are here.’

  ‘Avery let’s go somewhere quiet.’

  ‘Whatever you have to say. Can be said in front of Mace.’

  Shanae glanced at Mace before turning to Avery. Her lips have practically disappeared.

  ‘We’ll talk when we get home.’

  The shaking body next to hers, brought Avery’s attention back to the laughing biker. Her insides melting as he warmed her with his gaze. ‘She’s harmless.’

  ‘Maybe – But she doesn’t like me.’ Mace dropped his hand from Avery’s waist. The laughter disappearing along with his smile. ‘I’ll not be used in some misguided rebellion Avery.’