Smokey Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2021 Sam Crescent

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0386-2

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  SMOKEY

  Sam Crescent

  Copyright © 2021

  Chapter One

  Ava Sinclaire stared into her shot glass. Tequila wasn’t her drink of choice but tonight she was celebrating. The divorce had finally come through. She was a free agent from that lying, cheating scumbag.

  “You okay there, sweetheart?” the bartender, Ryan, asked. He’d told her his name the moment she sat at the bar.

  “I’m perfectly fine.”

  “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

  “I’m kind of new.” She offered him a smile. Totally new. Three months new. After moving to Fort Clover, Ava had set up her bakery in town and was doing quite well. Her first official day of opening turned a small crowd, which she loved. Everyone in town was so nice to her. They all wanted to know more about her, but the moment she told them all she was in the process of getting a divorce, everyone seemed to accept that.

  “You sticking around?”

  “Yep. Have you heard of the baker called Ava’s? It’s mine.”

  “No shit. I had one of the nicest cream pies from there just last week. You made them?”

  “Yep, that was me.”

  “Wow, shit. You do good. I hear you only work three days a week, though, right?”

  “Yes, right.”

  Someone hollered his name, and within seconds, she was alone again.

  Yep, she had her bakery three days a week. Her parents had left her a small fortune that Derek had tried to get from her, but thanks to the prenup her lawyer demanded he sign, she’d been saved from handing over half of her parents’ money.

  She rarely used it, or at least had rarely used it until she moved towns and bought herself a small house. It was on the edge of town. Just a small place. Two bedrooms, a nice garden. A space for her to enjoy and relax. After all the drama her ex had put her through, she wanted it.

  At thirty years old, she knew it was lame to just want peace and quiet, but she was done with men. Done with all the drama they seemed to entail.

  Ryan came back, filled her glass with more tequila, and she thanked him. She didn’t even know if Fort Clover had a cab company. She was way past her limit.

  When the bar suddenly went silent, she frowned and turned around to see what the problem was. In the doorway stood not one, but six, or maybe it was three, or perhaps twelve angry-looking bikers. She must be seeing something, or the tequila had gone straight to her head.

  The realtor had warned her there was a local motorcycle club hanging around. There had been one close by in the last town she lived in, and that hadn’t been much of a problem.

  Spinning back to the bar, she stared down at her shot, wondering why the hell she was even celebrating anyway. Yes, she was finally rid of Derek, but why celebrate that? He’d been wrong for her from the start.

  Before he’d entered her life, she had friends, a great job, fun. Her ex had turned her into a woman who slowly stopped seeing friends, stopped going out, and just lived for his approval, only to never get it. He’d chipped away at her armor until she walked in on him fucking his secretary, right in their bedroom. The moment she saw him, it was like a switch had gone off inside her head, and she’d flipped right back to who she was. Only now, she was all alone and ten years older. No kids. No marriage. Fuck all but a nice house, her bakery, and her parents’ money still safely belonging to her.

  A large, sexy-looking man took a seat right beside her. The leather cut didn’t have any sleeves and his heavily inked, muscular arms were on full display. She also caught sight of his knuckles. Hell’s was written across them with the apostrophe in the divot between the l and the s.

  She’d never gotten any tattoos. It was on her bucket list.

  Thank you, lame-ass Derek. Fucking loser.

  She lifted her glass into the air and knocked it back, nearly choking on it.

  “Wow, what are we drinking to, pretty lady?”

  His gruff voice went straight to her core. No man should ever be able to turn a woman on with just the sound of his voice. She turned her head to her little neighbor and stared at him. To her surprise, he glanced from her face down to her ass, then back up, lingering for a few seconds on her tits.

  She wasn’t a slender woman. Big tits, huge hips, massive thighs, and she didn’t give a flying fuck about it either. After ten years of being told how ugly she was and how she didn’t measure up to Derek, she’d made a vow to never allow a man to see her as small. She’d tossed out every single item of clothing and bought herself a whole new wardrobe.

  This move was about her. Not about a single man.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said.

  “Are you a regular?”

  She shook her head.

  “Just passing through?”

  She shook her head again. “If you want to know who I am, just ask.”

  “And you’d give me an honest answer?”

  “I’ve got no reason to lie to you.” She glanced at his leather cut, seeing the label marking him as President. “And why would I lie to the boss?”

  He held out his hand. “The name’s Smokey.”

  “Ava.” She shook his hand. “I’ve just moved here.”

  He turned her hand left and right. “No ring.”

  She chuckled. “Single, and I’m totally off men. I hate every last one of them.”

  “A woman scorned?”

  “Nah, a woman sick and tired of them and all the bullshit that comes with them.” She didn’t miss Derek. There was no pain or sadness. Just an overwhelming anger she didn’t even know she possessed. All her life, she’d been the calm one. The sweet one. The person to never make any waves and to always find the good in people. She was done with being a doormat. “To be scorned, I’d have to have actually cared what he did.”

  Smokey’s hand lingered on hers, and she waited for him to say more. “I detect a mark where a ring should be.” His thumb grazed over her finger. “Recently divorced?”

  “You got it.”

  “And you say you’re not scorned?”

  “Nope. It was the wake-up call I needed.”

  “What did the bastard do?” he asked.

  She chuckled. “What makes you think he did something?”

  “You’re new here. You’ve got this … thing about you. I don’t know. It says you’re the one moving on, not him.”

  Ava pulled her hand away from him, running a finger across her lip. Maybe it was the alcohol or just the fact she was finally free to do and say whatever she wanted, which was why she blurted out her next part. “I went home to discover my husband anally fucking another woman. Our sex had been completely lackluster. No spark. No nothing. It was just nothing. Let’s just say I’m well shot of him. He was the worst thing I ever did.”

  Ryan came back and filled her glass. “What can I get you, Smokey?”

  “The usual.”

  “So, you visit this bar frequently?” she asked.

  “Only when I hear there is a pretty lady sitting here all on her own.”

  Ava snorted. “Please, I wasn’t born yester
day.” The drink was going to her head and her mouth. She needed to stop speaking. She pushed the drink away as Ryan put a beer down in front of Smokey. “Do you know of any cab company that will take me home?”

  “Not this late, sweetheart. The only guy who does that is sitting right over there.” Ryan pointed toward the corner.

  “Oh, crap. Looks like I’m walking.” She opened her purse, put down several bills, and got to her feet. “Pleasure to meet you, Ryan.” Then she put a hand on Smokey’s arm. He was rock hard. Pure muscle. “And you, Smokey. See you both around.” She turned on her heel and left the bar.

  The tension between the two men was clear, and she had no interest in getting involved in whatever the hell that was. She just wanted some peace and quiet in her own little world.

  Holding her purse tight, she began the trek back to her home. She’d have no choice but to make the same trek back to grab her car. This was just like her. Finally experiencing freedom, and look where it got her. All alone and having no choice but to walk home. Next time, she’d plan a little better. After three months in a brand-new place, she really should have her bearings about her now.

  Running fingers through her hair, she glanced up at the dark, star-filled sky and took a deep breath.

  The divorce from Derek had been stressful because multiple times, he’d tried to find ways to reconcile or any loopholes surrounding the prenup. Fortunately, her parents had been sure to steer her in the direction of a good lawyer. One who had been in the family for a long time.

  “Ava.”

  She stopped at the sound of her name.

  “Ava.”

  She must have drunk way too much if she was starting to imagine people shouting her name.

  Tucking her hair behind her ears, she glanced behind her and was surprised to see Smokey heading her way. His long strides captured her attention.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “There’s no way a pretty woman like you should be walking all alone by herself.”

  She groaned. “You really don’t have to do this. Honestly, I’m super fine.”

  “Well, let me take your super-fine ass home.”

  Ava rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I’m not going to have sex with you.”

  Smokey smiled, and it nearly knocked her right off her feet. “Now that I wasn’t expecting. I’m not after sex, sweetheart. I just want to know you got home safely. I’m being a gentleman.” He frowned.

  “Not used to the feeling?”

  “I’m not used to a woman turning me down.”

  She laughed and reached out to stroke his leather cut. “It must be the jacket. Do you get cold in the winter?”

  “It’s not the only cut I wear.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “You seem to know your way around a biker.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Not really. Kind of hard not to understand it. President, boss. It’s leather and all your BFFs back there were wearing one.” She shrugged. “Not hard to deduce.”

  “Are you always this adorable?”

  “Nope.” She made the p pop. “It’s the drink.”

  “Now that’s a shame. Let me walk you home.”

  “And you’re not expecting sex?” she asked.

  “Not everything is about sex.”

  No, not with her. “I get it.” She started to walk again, pushing some of her hair off her face. No matter how much time she spent trying to tame her blonde locks, they always had a mind of their own. She more often than not just pulled it back into a ponytail or a messy bun. Right now, she was frustrated with it.

  “What do you get?”

  “I saw the way some of the other single women at the bar were looking at you. The way they were dressed. Sex with them would be far more enjoyable.” She licked her lips as Smokey grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

  “I’m sensing this asshole of an ex did a number on you,” Smokey said.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “It’s a hunch. I’ve never met a woman who would so willingly put herself down.”

  “You’ve got that all wrong, biker boy. I’m not putting myself down. I’m a realist, and it’s what we do. I’m not the kind of person men think of having sex with. Not the dirty kind anyway.” She shrugged. “It’s a fact.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” She offered him a smile. “I’m not offended.” She began to walk again.

  “Then please tell me, Ava, why it is that my dick has been hard as fucking rock since I saw you at the bar? And I’ve wanted you from that moment.”

  She stopped and turned toward him, shocked. There was no way she’d heard that.

  ****

  Hunter had wanted fresh meat. It was the only reason Smokey had decided to go to Ryan’s Place. There was plenty of free, willing pussy of all ages back at the clubhouse. He hadn’t been out for a short time, and with Ugly Beast spending more time at home with Abriana and the baby, and the shit that went down with the mafia, he was bored.

  He needed something to excite him.

  No new deals had come through for him. He’d only gotten a single phone call from Sebastian Drago about a possible meetup with the head of the mafia, but he’d so far declined.

  His club didn’t need the money, nor the heat. They made their money in several different ways.

  The moment he’d entered the bar, he’d checked out the blonde sitting on her own. Her hair was fucking wild with so much curl to it. Instantly, he’d wanted the locks spread across his pillow. Once he sat beside her and caught sight of her pretty face, he’d wanted to fuck her.

  Every single part of her body called to him. Fat, juicy tits, hips he could hold on to, and those thighs. He wanted them wrapped around his waist as he pounded her cunt.

  In fact, he wanted it all.

  Rather than say that, he’d gotten talking. Now, he’d never been a jealous man, but whatever her ex-husband had done to her, Smokey wanted retribution. This woman had no reason to be saying the shit she was.

  “Is this supposed to get me into bed?” she asked.

  “I’m not trying to get you into bed.” He closed the distance between them. Ava stood firm, not shrinking back, and he found that incredibly hot. Grasping her hand, he tugged hard until she fell into him. He placed her hand right over his dick.

  “We’re out in the open.”

  “Do I look like I give a fuck what people think?” he asked. With her hand directly over his cock, he smiled. “Now, do you question what I want?” he asked.

  She licked her lips, and he couldn’t help but groan.

  “That mouth would look good wrapped around my dick.”

  “You’re saying this stuff to distract me.”

  “No. I’m saying what I think. It’s a habit.” He reached out, cupped her cheek, and ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “You really have no clue the kind of things I want to do with you.”

  “This is crazy. You don’t know me.”

  “Don’t need to know a person to want them, Ava.” He tilted her head back. “I’m guessing your ex-husband didn’t teach you that.”

  Instantly, she shut down. She removed her hand and stepped back. “I need to get home.”

  “Do you love your ex?” he asked.

  She stopped and turned toward him. “No. I don’t.”

  “Did you ever?”

  “What is with the twenty questions?” she asked. “I don’t know. You shouldn’t be putting my hand on a body part, or asking so many personal questions. It’s rude.”

  “It’s how I get to know a person.”

  “Then you really do need help. I’m not the one to help you.”

  She started to walk again, and for a few seconds, he admired her round ass. After a few seconds, he fell into step beside her.

  “You don’t need to do this.”

  “I think it’s time we establish something here, babe. I do whatever the hell I like when I like. No one tells me what to do.”

  “
Must be nice to have that kind of power.”

  He smiled. “Anyone can have it.”

  She folded her arms and didn’t ask him any question. The minutes ticked on by and all he got was more and more curious about her.

  The divorce. The asshole ex-husband.

  “What’s your full name?” he asked.

  “Not happening. You think I haven’t seen those horror movies where the girl gives away all the dirty details?” She shook her head. “Not happening. I’m not that stupid.”

  He laughed. “I didn’t say you were.”

  “You’ve got my first name. That’s more than enough.”

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you’re not used to being hit on.” He watched her reaction. She merely stayed looking straight ahead. “With the imprint of the ring, you’ve been married for some time. You’re a sweet-looking kind of woman. I’m guessing your first real relationship ended in marriage.”

  This made her stop. “What’s your point?”

  “You didn’t get used to men flirting with you. You don’t think you’ve got it in you for men to want to flirt with you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “No? Then how many men have you fucked?”

  She burst out laughing. “You really think I’m going to tell an absolute stranger?”

  “I know people. I’ve gotten to where I am today by knowing what people are thinking. What’s going on in their head at every single moment. I know you, Ava.”

  “No, Smokey. You don’t know me at all. I just want to walk home in peace and quiet, and you’re not giving me that.”

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  “A woman never tells.”

  “I’m guessing late twenties.”

  “You’re close.”

  “Thirty.”

  She nodded.

  “So, you’re a thirty-year-old woman. Moved to a small town. Recently divorced because you caught your ex cheating on you. You don’t have much experience with men, and you’re nervous around them.”