Chas's Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 3) (49 page)

When Addie came up to Reverend Jake, she stopped. Chas took her hands and they faced the preacher.

“We’re all here to celebrate the union between Addie and Chas. Two people who found each other in this crazy, mixed-up world. From the way they’re looking at each other right now, I can see a whole lot of love between them.”

Several people in the audience laughed while some of the brothers hooted and whistled.

“Addie and Chas have made the decision to live their life and raise their family together. Life can be good, but it can be real tough, and these two people are taking the risk and making the commitment to see life through, whether it’s good or bad. They’re telling each other to hold on tight. The ride is long.”

Chas squeezed Addie’s hands and winked at her. She blushed several shades of red, and Chas forced himself to stand quietly without hugging her and kissing her crimson-stained cheeks.

Reverend Jake looked at Addie and said, “Do you promise to be true to your man, to love him, support him, understand his obligations to the brotherhood, and let him ride his Harley whenever he wants?”

Sniggers and hoots bounced off the great room’s walls.

With eyes glistening, Addie stared into Chas’s black orbs. “I do. I promise to be the wife who stands by her man and loves him fiercely,” she said softly.

Turning to Chas, the reverend said, “And do you promise to love your woman, protect her, and keep her satisfied?”

The members stomped their boots on the floor and whistled.

Chas looked into Addie’s glimmering gaze. “Fuck yeah, I do. Precious, I want you to take this ride with me and trust me. I need you by my side, and baby, we’ll ride as one.”

“You both have made the most important decision in your lives, to form a union and bring children in the world. No matter if shit hits the fan—and it will—you have each other and the brotherhood. Do you have the rings?”

Jack handed a simple white gold band to his dad, who placed it on Addie’s finger. Then Addie slipped a white gold band with black onyx motorcycle tread marks etched around it on Chas’s finger. When he saw the ring, Chas smiled and winked at her.

Reverend Jake moved his eyes from Addie to Chas and back to Addie. “I pronounce you husband and wife.”

A thunderous roar filled the room as the brothers, old ladies, family, and friends jumped to their feet, whistling and cheering. The floor vibrated and the walls shook from the deafening rumble of the Harleys’ engines. Chas drew Addie to him and crushed his mouth against hers as his tongue darted in. As he tasted her minty recesses, he murmured, “You taste real good, wife.”

With his arm, Chas pulled Jack over to him, and the three of them hugged. A small kick against Chas’s waist startled him, and he looked down at Addie’s bump, his eyes wide.

“Our little girl doesn’t want to be left out,” Addie said, smiling. She grasped Chas and Jack’s hands and placed them on her belly. They all laughed as another kick hit their hands.

“I love you, precious.”

“I love you, too, honey. I fall in love with you a little more every day.”

Turning to the guests, Chas said, “It’s party time.” More hoots and cheers filled the room, shortly replaced with the thumping bass of “Born to be Wild.”

Chas’s parents and his sister came over and hugged the newly married couple.

Chas’s mom had tears running down her face when she embraced her son and whispered in his ear, “You deserve to be happy like this. Addie is a wonderful woman, and she’ll take good care of you and Jack.” Looking at Addie, she smiled then hugged her. “I can’t wait for my new granddaughter to enter the world.”

As the bikers and others milled around drinking, laughing, and swapping Harley stories, the old ladies brought out the food, setting it on the buffet table. Steaming ribs, brisket, fried chicken, and pulled pork tantalized the party-goers with pungent scents of hickory and mesquite. Mounds of mashed potatoes, tomato and radish salad, green beans, corn, and fried-green tomatoes whet the appetites of the wedding guests.

Chas brought a plate of food to Addie, who sat at one of the tables set up for the wedding party. She’d kicked off her shoes and her face was flushed from all the excitement.

“You doing okay, precious?” Chas asked as he slid in beside her.

Nodding, she replied, “I never thought it would’ve been possible to be so happy. The only thing I regret is that my parents aren’t here to celebrate with me. But I know they’re looking down and smiling at me, and they’re telling me I did good.” Addie wiped a few tears from her eyes.

Chas circled his arm around her and whispered, “Precious,
I
did good.” They looked at each other, love blazing in their eyes.

He picked up a chicken leg, bit into it, and looked around the room: Jack danced with his mother and father to a Bon Jovi tune, Jax and Cherri kissed in a corner while Paisley ran around giggling, Cara sat on Hawk’s lap, and Banger’s pride-filled eyes locked with his. A comforting warmness filled him. This was the life he loved—his wife, his son, his parents, and his brotherhood.
Fuck, life is sweet.

After they ate, he danced a few tunes with his wife, all the while thinking about what he was going to do to her in their honeymoon suite at the Palace Hotel. The following day, they would leave to spend a week at a resort in Breckenridge.

As she swayed her hips to Bruce Springsteen, love swelled inside him. She was everything to him—wife, lover, and friend. He wanted to kiss her all over her deliciously ripe body. Just thinking about making love to her made his cock jerk. Chas looped his arm around Addie’s shoulders and said in her ear, “I gotta get you to the hotel. I wanna show my wife some loving.”

Addie threw her head back and laughed then nodded. They sneaked out of the reception, leaving the partygoers to dance and drink the night away. Hand in hand, husband and wife slid into the waiting limo then settled back on the leather seats as the car carried the happy couple to the hotel.

The End

I have so many people to thank who have made my writing endeavors a reality. It is the support, hard work, laughs, and love of reading that have made my dreams come true.

Thank you
to my editor, Kristin, for all your insightful edits, excitement with the Insurgents MC series, and encouragement during the writing and editing process. I truly value your editorial eyes and suggestions as well as the time you’ve spent with the series. You’re the best!

Thank you
to my wonderful beta readers, Kolleen, Paula, Jessica, Melissa, Sue, and Barb—my final-eyes reader. Your enthusiasm for the Insurgents Motorcycle Club series has pushed me to strive and set the bar higher with each book. Your dedication is amazing!

Thank you
to my proofreader, Amber, whose last set of eyes before the last once over I do, is invaluable. I appreciate the time and attention to detail you always give to each book.

Thank you
to the bloggers for your support in reading my book, sharing it, reviewing it, and getting my name out there. I so appreciate all your efforts.

Thank you
to Carrie from Cheeky Covers. You put up with numerous revisions until I said, “Yes, that’s Hawk or Jax or Chas.” Your patience is amazing, and you never said, “Again?!” when I’d tell you I just wasn’t feeling test book cover #20. You totally rock. I love your artistic vision.

Thank you
to the readers who took a chance on an unknown first-time writer. You have made the hours of typing on the computer and the frustrations that come with the territory of writing books so worth it. You make it possible for writers to write because without you reading the books, we wouldn’t exist. Thank you, thank you!

Dear Readers,

Thank you for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed the third book in the Insurgents MC series as much as I enjoyed writing Addie and Chas’s story. This rough motorcycle club has a lot more to say, so I hope you will look for the upcoming books in the series. Romance makes life so much more colorful, and a rough, sexy bad boy makes life a whole lot more interesting.

If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. I read all of them and appreciate the time taken out of busy schedules to do that.

I love hearing from my fans, so if you have any comments or questions, please email me at
[email protected]
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A big thank you to my readers whose love of stories and words enables authors to continue weaving stories. Without the love of words, books wouldn’t exist.

Happy Reading,

Chiah

Book 4 in the Insurgents MC Series

Coming in January, 2016

The first time Axe saw her at his friend’s wedding, he knew she’d have her long legs wrapped around his waist, moaning and begging for more.

A member of the Insurgents Motorcycle Club, Axe has the tattoos, the ripped body, and the badass attitude. He’s great in bed and always leaves women pleading for more. But…

Don’t ask him to commit.

Don’t ask for a phone call.

Don’t expect anything but wild, mind-blowing sex.

That’s the way he rolls….

Until he meets her.

It was a one-night stand.

He was gone before she woke up.

Finished. Done. Moved on.

Except he can’t stop thinking about her.

What the f*&k?!

Baylee Peters has thrown herself obsessively into her career vying for the brass ring of partnership at one of the most prestigious architecture firms in Denver.
Not wanting any distractions, she has shelved romance. Nothing can stand in her way.

Until she meets him.

The dark-haired man with the smoldering eyes and tatted chiseled body who makes her insides melt.

It was just for one night. So what if the sex was incredible?

Then work takes her to Pinewood Springs. And to him. Her ordered world explodes.

As if she didn’t have enough trouble with a sexy, bad boy biker whom she can’t stop drooling over, her memory of the night her mother was murdered is coming back, and the killer is waiting to make sure no one knows what she remembers.

Can Baylee trust Axe enough to let him into her life and take control? Can he save her before a determined killer takes away Axe’s one chance at happiness?

Axe vows to protect her, and he will stop at nothing until he makes her his woman.

Axe’s Fall

Note: This short excerpt is a ROUGH DRAFT. I am still writing the story about this bad boy. It has only been self-edited in a rudimentary way. I share it with you to give you a bit of an insight into Axe’s Fall.

Summer, 1998

Denver, Colorado

T
he man’s loud
voice shattered the quietness. Baylee hugged her stuffed rabbit closer to her as she held her breath. The voice didn’t belong to her father. Her father was out on business and wouldn’t be back until the morning. She pulled the covers over her head and wished the fear creeping inside her would crawl away. Silence. The young girl let out a small breath, closed her eyes, and let sleep replace the fear from a few minutes before.

Crash!
Baylee jerked up in her bed, her rabbit clutched to her side, her heart slamming against her heaving chest. Her mother’s sobs pierced the veil of normalcy.
Mommy’s in trouble.

Baylee scrambled out of her twin bed and padded to the stairs. From the glow of the fireplace she saw figures dancing on the walls like shadow puppets. One was tall and gripping the other figure who was short, curvy, and struggling.

“Please don’t. Leave now. Please,” her mother said in a voice laced in panic.

“Give me what you’ve been teasing me with for a long time. You think you can flirt with me then turn me off? You know you want this.”

“I don’t. Stop. If you don’t stop, I’m going to tell John when he gets back.”

“Just one kiss and I’ll go. Come on, you know you want it.”

The young child quietly descended the stairs until she was more than halfway down. She sat on the carpeted step and clung to the white-painted wooden dowels, looking through them as though they were a looking glass into a distorted world of shadows and fear.

“Stop it! Please,” Baylee’s mother cried out as she grabbed something on the cabinet next to her.

The scene played out on the walls of the living room: her mother bending her arm and hitting the man’s head, his arm grabbing his head then slapping her mother so hard she fell on the floor, the tall outline then pounced on her mother. Her mother’s gasps and muffled screams became fainter, and her body stopped moving.

Baylee leapt up and rushed into the room screaming, “Mommy! Don’t hurt my mommy. Mommy!”

The man, startled, jumped up and approached the young girl, his eyes flashing. She backed up and ran to the front door. The high-pitched screams rang out through the neighborhood, and neighbors came out on their front porches to see what had punctured the stillness of the night.

A loud
thump
on the door made the man turn and run out of the house through the back door.

“What’s going on in there?” a deep voice asked on the other side of the door.

“My mommy’s hurt. She’s not moving.” Baylee’s small voice answered.

The shrill wail of police sirens echoed eerily in the distance, the noise coming closer.

By the time the cops entered the house, the young girl was kneeling by her lifeless mother—Baylee’s eyes unblinking, her body stiff. Even though warm hands touched her, the young child had retreated to the world where nightmares lived, and where blackness surrounded everything.

From that night on, Baylee Peters’s memory would be filled with shadows and darkness.