Three Kings, One Night (Lost Kings MC #2.5) (8 page)

That’s our Christmas ritual—cinnamon buns and coffee before family time. Shit, if my brain wasn’t in my vagina, I would have remembered.

“Sorry, he stopped by unexpectedly to bring me a present and—”

Alex quirks an eyebrow at the word present, but we’re interrupted by Z returning to the room.

***

Brother or not, hearing this dude hassling Lilly for being with me, makes me want to beat the shit out of him. I get it, I do. If I had a sister and found some shady dude like me in her house, I’d probably react the same way.

But she’s thirty-something years old, if she wants to have a fuck buddy over, that’s her business and I don’t appreciate her brother trying to make her feel bad about it. Then Lilly sticks up for me. Holy shit. I can’t even say what I’m feeling hearing those fuckin’ words comin’ outta her mouth.

He’s a nice guy. I like him—

If only she knew how
not
a nice guy I really am.

Now I’m hard as a rock, and probably shouldn’t go back out there until I calm down.

When I finally make it back into the living room, I plan to head straight for the front door. “Hey, Lilly, I’m gonna—”

The way she glances at me with wide eyes, I already now whatever she’s about to ask me, I’m going to say yes to. “Stay. Have some cinnamon buns and coffee before you go?”

My eyes skip to her brother, but he’s got his back to me, busy arranging something on a plate. Probably shoving rat poison in my cinnamon bun.

“Sure, if I’m not interrupt—”

A big fuckin’ smile lights up her face and I’m so done for. “You’re not.” She turns and bumps her brother out of the way and grabs the plate of pastries.

Setting them down on the table, she gestures for me to take a seat. It’s awkward, but I snag a chair and plop myself into it, while she runs back to the kitchen. Her brother sits across from me and meets my stare head on. Brave fucker. Maybe I should ask him to prospect for us.

Inside, I’m laughing at the thought, but it must show on my face.

“Something amuse you?” Alex asks.

“Yeah, I was thinking you got big balls, throwing that attitude at a
thug
like me.”

He doesn’t react. Or at least he doesn’t react the way I expect him to. He laughs. “I could say the same thing, you know.”

“Can you guys do your whole pissing match thing some other time?” Lilly asks very sweetly as she sets out three coffee mugs and one of those insulated coffee pots on the table.

Alex pats her hand and thanks her for the coffee. At least the dude is polite to his sister.

Lilly takes her place at the head of the table and shines a beautiful smile at both of us before slipping, warm, sticky rolls on each of our plates.

“Merry Christmas, guys.”

Anyone who knows me, knows that planning ahead of time is not a skill in my arsenal.

I’m also a master at procrastinating.

While most authors are penning their holiday stories in the middle of July, I’m pretending winter doesn’t exist.

Once the snow started to fly this year, these three stories came to me. I thought about them, then set the idea aside, because I didn’t have the time. You see, I’m supposed to be finishing Book #3.

But once I mentioned the idea, people said
“Yes! Do it!” and like magic, Three Kings, One Night was born.

Not quite. I labored over these three little stories, because while I have a general idea what will happen in future books, I didn’t want to give anything important away. I also didn’t want to write myself into a corner.

And I should be finishing Book #3!

But Murphy, Wrath, and Z would not be denied.

I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into the Lost Kings MC world.

Thank you for reading!

Autumn

Acknowledgments

There are so many people I want to thank. Everyone who has reached out to me in one way or another—bought one of my books, recommended them to a friend, posted somewhere about the Lost Kings MC, left me a review, tweeted at me—thank you. Whether it’s to tell me how much you love Rock and Hope, or how much you want a
Property of Wrath
patch, I sincerely appreciate it.

My Beta Girls, I love you guys so much. I’m always hesitant to ask for help, but each time you guys respond with such enthusiasm, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.

Amanda, Angi, Brandy, Clarisse, Elizabeth, Krystal, Nisha, Shelly, Iveta, Robin and Shauna-thank you so much for jumping right in and helping me out on such short notice.

Shauna, I think you’re the one who encouraged this madness. Thanks, I think.

Cara Connelly
, thank you for responding with
“send it over” to my panic-stricken email.

SNEAK PEEK #1

Lost Kings MC #3

Rock and Hope, Part 3

(Unedited and subject to change)

Copyright, Autumn Jones Lake

The thought of Hope wearing my property patch gets me harder than a motherfucker.

It’s time for me to announce my intent at church. Technically I don’t need the club’s approval. I can claim whoever I want. But if I’m going to give her the Lost Kings property patch, I need the votes of my officers. Even though she doesn’t yet realize it, being my old lady gives Hope a lot of power. She knows, or will learn shit law enforcement would love to know. Giving her this patch is more than decorative. It’s more than my caveman need to for everyone to know she belongs to me. It means not only am I taking one hundred percent responsibility for Hope, but so are my brothers. I trust her completely and I think my brothers know I don’t trust lightly.

Wrath looks downright exhausted as he hobbles in on his crutches and drops into the chair on my right.

“You feelin’ alright?”

For once he’s not smirking. “Yeah. Fuckin’ cast is bullshit.”

“Slowin’ your game?” Z asks helpfully from my left.

“Brother’s got no game, Trinity’s been carrying his balls around in her back pocket for weeks,” Dex snarks. Everyone chuckles, even Wrath.

Instead of some pissed off retort, my friend laughs and shakes his head.

Interesting.

Slow as turtles trudging through honey, the rest of the brothers filter in. The house is quiet, all of our guests from last night have departed.

Sparky is naturally the last one in. He’s jittery from being away from his plants for more than five seconds.

We go through regular club business and get it out of the way. Teller reports to us that earnings are good. All club accounts are flush and balanced. He reads the numbers off a sheet of paper, passes it around for everyone to review, then shreds it.

Sparky reports a fresh crop is almost ready. We have an increased demand from Green Street Crew, but we will be able to meet it along with the new pipeline I lined up. Sparky is excited about his newest strain. Stash asks for extra help with packaging.

Z and Dex report Crystal Ball is doing well and they’ve secured a few new feature dancers to replace the void left by Inga.

Wrath informs everyone he’s decided on a trainer to teach his classes at the gym. He asks the brothers to help him keep an eye on things while he’s laid up and we work out a schedule.

Murphy brings up a run that’s been scheduled for months. With Wrath unable to ride, someone needs to take his place. We still have time to deal with that, so I table it for later discussion.

Wrath offers to turn in his cut since he can’t ride. His offer is voted down with a “fuck no” from all members.

“There’s an exception in the by-laws for injuries, you fuckhead, so stop offering,” Z grouches at Wrath. Wrath flips him off and that discussion is over.

Once general club business is out of the way, I excuse everyone except my officers: Wrath, Z, Teller, and Murphy.

Expectation is written all over each of their faces.

SNEAK PEEK #2

Tattered on My Sleeve

Lost Kings MC #4

Wrath and Trinity

(Unedited and subject to change)

Copyright Autumn Jones Lake

Eight Years Ago

Once I got over the shock of seeing the new bartender at the Blue Fox Tavern, I slipped on my disinterested face. My brothers, Rock and Zero were right behind me. Brothers by choice. As in we belonged to the same MC, but to me the bond we shared flowed deeper than any blood relation.

The three of us sat down at the bar. Blue Fox was one of the only biker hangouts that would allow colors as long as we all behaved. I’m not sure how the bright little blonde beauty planned to keep things orderly.

She approached us with a sweet, bubbly demeanor, but those eyes roamed over us, assessing the level of danger we posed.
“Hey, guys, what can I get you?”

Her gaze skipped to our cuts and I watched as she zeroed in on each of our patches. She looked me over last and holy fuck when our eyes met, a zap of electricity shot straight through me. For just a second that hard, calculating gleam in her softened into something vulnerable.

The moment passed and she swung her gaze back to Rock, whose patch read President.

“Scotch neat, please sweetheart,” he asked. His eyes were busy assessing her as well, but I didn’t get the feeling he wanted to take her in the back room and fuck her like he did with just about every chick he met.

As the Vice President, she took Z’s order next. Finally, she returned to me.

“Sargent at Arms, huh? So you’re the Wrecking Ball?”

A slow grin spread across my face, I liked her.
“I’ve been called worse.”

“I’m sure you have. What would you like?”

“Jack Daniels, neat.”

The three of us were silent while we watched her work. Slapping the drinks down with a tired smile, she glanced at the clock. She turned back to us and cocked her head, checking out our officer patches again.

“You have a shakeup in leadership? Your patches are so squeaky clean,” she teased in a husky voice.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Rock asked.

“Trinity! I’m so sorry, I’m late!”

A short, excessively curvy, brunette jiggled into the space behind the bar. She’d stuffed herself into some sort of hot pink tube top thing that didn’t flatter her as much as she probably thought.

“It’s okay, Storm,” the blonde answered, even though her expression said otherwise.

Storm? Aw, fuck.

As if she heard my thought, Storm turned her big, brown, doe-eyed gaze our way and shrieked.

“Oh, Trinity! These are the guys I was telling you about.” She yanked the blonde over to us by the elbow. She zeroed in on Z right away, which is unfortunate for her, because he is strictly hit-it-and-quit-it. Rock and I picked up a definite undercurrent of desperation with this broad and had so far managed to steer clear, even though we let her party at our clubhouse.

Trinity seemed less than impressed and I wonder what sort of stories Storm has been spinning about us.

“Can I stop by after work, guys?” Storm asked.

Rock was quick to answer.
“No. Tomorrow, there will be a full house. Stop by then, hon.”

Her face fell, then brightened at the invitation. I glanced down the bar at Z who looked ready to choke our prez. I couldn’t wait to give him shit later.

I finished my drink and got up to take a walk around the place. Rock’s meeting with a crew we don’t really trust, so I want to check things out before they get here.

The back corner booth is where I wanted the meeting to go down. As I pulled a chair over, a breathy voice behind me called out.
“Hold on, I haven’t cleaned that yet.”

Trinity rushed over with a rag and wiped the most recent stickiness from the table top. I’m only human, so while she’s busy cleaning, I checked out her pleasantly round ass. I thought it would fit my hands perfectly. For a biker chick she’s awfully conservative. I spotted what looked like two tank tops. Black on top, bright pink underneath. No thong or tramp stamp peeking out when she bent over.

She finished and spun around. Too bad my eyes were slow to react. She definitely caught me checking out her ass. I’m not ashamed, though, because now I was staring at something even more exciting. Her tits all pushed up and spilling out of her shirt.