Mistletoe and Outlaws: (Novella 5.5) (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga) Read online

  Outside the large kitchen window, the snow continued to fall in heavy sheets.

  Before long they might have a lock in situation.

  Only Zara was happy about that.

  Her mom positively hated the cold weather, maybe because Boston got snowed on a lot.

  Out of the corner of her eye Zara saw her mom in the doorway, she twisted around to smile. “Coffee is nearly done,” she told her.

  “I think the little one is ready for her nap. Your dad is putting her down. He’s like a new man, he insisted on taking her up to read a story.” She chortled.

  He really was different to the man she’d grown up with.

  Her father pushed her towards career goals even before she was ready, even when it hadn’t been what Zara wanted to do. But then, looking back she was grateful. Without taking certain paths she never would be here with her biker-man.

  For a lot of years, she didn’t even think her dad liked her much and resented her for not being the career-hungry son he’d wanted.

  All that had changed once she came home.

  He was proving to be a hands-on grandfather down on the floor playing with bricks and sharing snacks with his granddaughter who gloried in the attention.

  They were learning to bridge the gaps, though there were things she would never tell her parents.

  She liked their new relationship.

  “We’re going to go and pick up food,” her mom announced when they heard her father’s footsteps on the stairs.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Rider said.

  He’d built the roof over the grill for the very reason now. No matter if it was snowing he could still throw meat on the fire.

  “We want to, son.” She smiled at her son in law. “We’ll be back soon.” Kissing Zara, the pair left.

  It was no big secret as soon as her parents met Rider they both loved him.

  Her mom especially.

  He takes care of you and we see a peace in you. She’d told Zara.

  “Feelin’ okay, Icy?” The man of her heart asked as she settled in the living room surrounded by a huge as hell seven-foot pine tree in the corner with white lights and a blond fairy on the top. Rider said it looked like her, but she couldn’t see it.

  She had her smaller Disney themed tree in their bedroom.

  Seriously, her man was a saint to put up with her Christmas mania.

  And there was no doubt about it, mania was the only word for it.

  Her list making began in September, Christmas shopping soon thereafter and the moment Thanksgiving turkey giblets were thrown in the trash her Christmas box came out of storage.

  The type of man her Ambrosio was; hard, dangerous, feared. And he sat patiently holding her glass trinkets while she spent hours decorating the trees.

  She cast a look over him. His dark brown beard a little longer just for the colder months framed lovely around his face. His shoulder length hair as always clipped back into a messy bun and he was wearing comfy jeans and an open plaid shirt over a white t-shirt.

  He looked edible.

  And it wasn’t only her pregnancy hormones speaking.

  The love she felt for Rider never quit. He was handsome and then some. The kind of sexy that tied her belly in knots just having his blue eyes rake over her.

  It banked a fire from within and spread out with just one of his signature smiles.

  The kind that was part smug-bastard and charming Romeo.

  In any argument Rider effectively shut her up just by flashing his teeth at her.

  Lifting her bare feet into his lap, she laid her head back on the couch cushion.

  So much still left to do since she’d maybe stupidly … said she’d plan a club party for all the boys and family in a couple of weeks.

  And because she stunk at micromanaging, she’d done most of the organizing herself so far.

  Much to Rider’s distress when he unconvincingly tried to get her to delegate.

  “I’m good, honey. Tired, but good. The baby is active tonight.”

  That was his cue.

  His big palm came over and flattened on her belly, rubbing in small circles. She wondered how long was left to wait until they made their appearance. And would they have another festive baby.

  Harper was turning one on New Year’s Eve.

  They’d decided to wait again to find out the sex of this baby, and though Rider insisted he didn’t care which way, she knew he secretly wanted a boy.

  She wanted a little boy with his beautiful blue eyes.

  “How long you think they’ll be?”

  “Hm? The way dad drives, and it’s snowing still. Maybe an hour or more.”

  “Good,” he declared. Grinning. And grabbed her onto his lap making Zara squeal laughing before she looped arms around his neck. “You said you’re good. And you’re tired. What you didn’t say, Icy, was how hungry you are…”

  He didn’t mean food.

  He’d made sure she ate today. Twice.

  Her biker-man was really good at checking if she’d eaten.

  Nuzzling his nose, Zara smiled, playing with the nape of his neck.

  He was hard under her hip.

  God. So, hard.

  She laughed, giddy and he stopped her instantly by pressing a bruising kiss to her lips, his hands dipped into the back of her leggings to cup her ample ass.

  Pregnancy weight only went two places and that was her ass and boobs.

  Both of which Rider enjoyed equally as much as he could.

  Zara never complained. Not when he was such a sport for dealing with her outrageous hormonal spike in her second trimester once the ridiculously horrible morning sickness abated.

  He was on duty, as he said, morning and night, ready to unzip and fuck her horny needs.

  “Do you want a little something, Ambrosio?”

  Back and forth she tasted his mouth, fought around with his tongue and yanked a little at his hair.

  He moaned and buried his face in her neck. Licking and nipping.

  She’d give him anything.

  Maybe a little self-serving, since he got her all hot and bothered and the very second he opened his mouth over hers she was ready.

  “Want everything, Icy.” He gruffed. “Want inside you. Want to hear you cryin’ my name. Feelin’ you break apart around my big cock.”

  She guffawed and cupped his cheeks seeing how hooded and dark his eyes were suddenly. She called his dick huge one time and he never shut up about it.

  “We need to be fast.” She said.

  The last thing either of them needed was for her parents to walk in and catch their daughter being railed hard.

  But having them here had turned their love making into somewhat of a challenge. A dirty, delicious challenge and her insides were fizzing with want.

  He couldn’t fling her into all positions as he usually would, what with her belly sticking out in front. Their preferred position for sex was having Rider take her from behind so he could play his dirty hands all over her from the front.

  She dragged him in for a searing kiss and right as his hands began to peel down her leggings while she ground on his crotch their beloved princess gave a bellowing cry.

  “Leave her a minute,” Zara panted, going in for a second kiss.

  He went left. She went right, and their tongues met in the middle.

  He tasted so good.

  She wanted him just like this.

  Hard and demanding.

  Self-soothing was no easy trick for a parent. Not ones like Rider and Zara who were going to have one spoiled daughter on their hands just as soon as she could walk and talk because not thirty seconds later Rider sighed into her mouth.

  More than evident it hurt her biker-man to heft himself to his feet, the giant bulge in the front of his jeans clear to see as he adjusted himself.

  Zara smiled and laughed a little.

  “I’ll get her. You stay right there. Feet up, Icy.” He told her dipping down over the couch he kissed he
r mouth, stroked her hair, smiled and jogged up the stairs.

  Humming a Christmas carol to herself she did just that and didn’t worry their fun was interrupted completely.

  Rider was resourceful.

  He was the most capable man she’d ever known.

  Both legal and illegally speaking.

  A household of babies, parents, even his biker boys, he’d find a way to have her.

  Zara was excited.

  And with good reason.

  Not even four hours later, once her parents were in bed only two rooms away, he led her by the hand into their bedroom, shut the door quietly behind them and plonked himself on the love seat over by the window.

  The perfect place for her to see the snow falling, giving a yellow glow to their yard.

  “Come here, Zara.” His voice low and sinful.

  She knew that look in his deep-set eyes as he unravelled his hair and spread out his sweatpants covered legs in front of him.

  There was nothing wholesome or good about her bad biker-man. And not when he was heeling his hand over his hardness.

  “Come here to your man so I can wrap your pretty pussy around my cock.” And he pulled out his angry-looking cock to rest on his abs, a hard bat of need just for her.

  Oh, Jesus.

  Starved kisses.

  Hungry, pulling hands everywhere.

  At one point when Zara sank down onto Rider’s cock and took the full ridged girth of him right down to the bottom the pleasure was so acute she craned her neck back almost off its hinges, and was about to emit a keening animal call, when he pushed his hand over her mouth. Holding it in her throat.

  She moaned licking his palm.

  Her thighs slick with her prolonged pleasure just out of reach.

  “It’s too good,” she whined with a bittersweet sound, bouncing on.

  “Only just getting started, baby.” He smirked in the dark room, the bank of the glow behind him lightning his face and the sight of her Ambrosio stole her breath.

  “Love you,” he grunted into her mouth, using her hips to move her to a faster rhythm they both needed. “Can you take more?”

  It was rhetorical. His seeking thumb on her clit made sure she could when fresh sparks set her on fire and she sank and sank down.

  Sweat beaded the base of her spine.

  She felt like it was the heart of summer as her blood rose to boiling point.

  “Love seeing you round with my baby,” he drove up and buried in Zara’s stomach it felt like. Gripping the side of his thick neck all she had to do was hold on and let Rider spill her over into nirvana. “Love you comin’ for me. Come for your man, Icy-baby. Come now.” His roughened thick tones slipped over her bones like lava on ice, melting her into an orgasming puddle. His mouth caught her moans in unhurried kisses while he finished inside her too.

  Fireworks licked like sparks over her entire body.

  Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Became her hushed mantra locked at the lips as her orgasm chased through her. Zara would have damn near sobbed if not for the quick thinking and her biker-man’s thrusting tongue stopping the noise from echoing through the house.

  He swallowed it all.

  Nailed her harder and made the orgasm last until she turned blind.

  Oh, Jesus. Rider knew how to feed her.

  In the corner of the bedroom she caught the twinkle of a Mickey Mouse ornament dangling on a tree branch. It held old memories and new and nothing bad in between.

  Disney and her hard-working man under her kissing a line around her exposed neck, whispering his dirty words he knew sent her off like a rocket.

  She just bet he’d leave his mark behind. Her Ambrosio always did.

  Zara had a feeling it was going to be the best holiday yet.

  Merry Christmas to me, she thought.

  “Christmas behind bars.” - Ruby

  December 10th

  Cork screw dark curls bounced around Ruby’s cheeks when she turned to Zara. “Learn to delegate, babe. We’re here—”

  “We’re not queer,” quick-tongued Luxe resting an arm on the bar interjected as she twirled the black straw through her soda and whipped her long ponytail over her shoulder.

  “So, put us to work.”

  “She means her,” Luxe pointed out. “I have somewhere I need to be in a while. But I can send my boy if you need muscle.”

  “You’re just as pregnant as I am,” pointed out Zara to Ruby who smiled and palmed her fuller belly under the woollen sweater. She refused to give up her skinny jeans. No one needed to know the waist was all stretchy material. “And do you think Grinder wants to be called away from working to fetch and carry party things for me? I have this, girls. Thanks.”

  Zara had a problem with micromanaging. It was the same with the summer cookout until Rider had stepped in and told his girl to let someone else take a job or he was cancelling the whole shebang. For a small blond her friend sure could yell loudly.

  It wasn’t the first time Ruby pointed it out to her friend that she needed to let others do for her.

  She got it. Ruby herself had been doing everything for her family for years, until Preacher came along and showed her she could offset some problems to others and it was just fine.

  Zara wasn’t wrong, she thought, as her tiny boo began to tumble and press on her bladder. Ruby felt big as a house most days carrying all her pregnancy weight in front and despite what her magazines said she was not fucking glowing, she felt like a whale in tight leather but the joy of actually feeling her baby kicking was worth her loss of vanity.

  She’d go through a hundred hours of puking on the floor of the bathroom, two hundred more having nurses stick probes in her hoo-hah and do it all happily to deliver a healthy baby in February.

  Pregnancy for her wasn’t as other women described. She sweated, she couldn’t go to the bathroom for days, she was constantly hungry and horny and crying. God, the crying.

  It was no walk in the park.

  Most days Asher walked around her on eggshells because her big man couldn’t cope with tears.

  He was built like a mountain with his emerald green eyes and impenetrable stare, had a raspy, deep fearful voice and could stare down any man and have the guy pissing himself scared.

  But put him in front of his crying wife and he dissolved into panic mode.

  It was cute really.

  “Let me get the liquor,” offered Ruby, twisting on her seat. “Helen said she’d do the catering. That way you can concentrate on the décor. And this place really needs the work.”

  With a lot of back and forth, Zara finally relented.

  Within the hour Ruby had made only one phone call to her old boss Otis at the local bar and grill to buy a dozen cases wholesale from him.

  It was good to know people.

  Job done.

  She didn’t miss the bartending; the hours were long and grueling and the moment the official paperwork for Sebastian was done and her and Preacher were his legal guardians she’d wanted to be home with him as much as she could.

  She still did her tattooing for the club but that was on an as and when they needed her basis.

  Her dad always hated her tending bar, and never much cared for her tattooing either, he thought both jobs were for men and not the delicate flower he presumed his daughter to be. The same daughter he’d neglected most of her childhood because of his addictions and rowdy lifestyle.

  But he was in prison and didn’t have a say in what she did with her life.

  An epic frown tugged down her forehead while Luxe and Zara went on talking, only half listening. Because Ruby’s mind was on the upcoming visit to the state penitentiary over in Canon City this week. It was the first time seeing her father in such a long time, long before he’d even been incarcerated.

  His list of crimes were a mile long and he still had five years to serve. Shorter with good behavior. But the father she once knew—the one who boozed to excess and took drugs all through her childhood, leaving Ruby
with a careless mother, was not a man she wanted to see today. That man hadn’t cared much for anything except for running his MC—which her brother now owned.

  Given her father’s history he wasn’t likely to be a model prisoner.

  It was the season of hope and forgiveness.

  Or so the saying goes.

  Maybe she had it in her heart now to forgive him his past because she was about to be a biological mother—she already was a mom to her gorgeous Seb. She would never understand a parent who washed their hands of their small child, but being a parent, she was more likely to forgive her father, or at least say hello.

  She wouldn’t promise anything else.

  Her brother was shocked to say the least when she told him she wanted to go with him on his monthly visit.

  Maybe it was a bad idea.

  But she wouldn’t know until she got there.

  Christmastime had always been a sad event for her. Being alone, broke and with no family to speak of that gave a crap about anyone but themselves, Ruby tended to sweep over the holidays as if they were ordinary days.

  And then Preacher and Sebastian happened.

  And now she was Martha freaking Stewart playing festive songs on the radio, baking and making their house into a festive winter wonderland.

  She’d never baked in her entire life.

  Alexa was crammed with recipes that Ruby could call up at any given time.

  Last night she baked cinnamon sugar cookies as a rehearsal for the extravagant Christmas Eve dinner with her in laws. Preacher wolfed down half the batch straight from the oven and declared them fucking amazing.

  Not a corner of their house was left undecorated.

  She said she was doing it for Seb. Making up for the holidays he missed out on with her sister.

  But there was something about the reds and golds, and the smell of pine throughout the house that connected with something lost in Ruby and she got into the holiday big time.

  Stockings.

  Spice candles.

  Sheet cookies.

  Wrapped gifts.

  She did it all to the max.

  Her mom in law said she was nesting, whatever that meant. God, she loved that woman so much, what a blessing she was to Ruby.

  If she were in any way like Tiny Tim she’d be declaring God Bless us, everyone to anyone who would listen, but this was her life and there were no end credits. Just a lot of happy, mushy days made better by her two boys.