CONVICT’S BABY_Black Dogs MC Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  CONVICT’S BABY: Black Dogs MC copyright 2017 by Zoey Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

  ***

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  Contents

  CONVICT’S BABY: Black Dogs MC

  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

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  WED TO THE BIKER: Skeleton Kings MC

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Fourty-One

  Chapter Fourty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Chapter Eighty

  Chapter Eighty-One

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  Chapter Eighty-Nine

  Chapter Ninety

  Chapter Ninety-One

  Chapter Ninety-Two

  Chapter Ninety-Three

  Chapter Ninety-Four

  Chapter Ninety-Five

  Chapter Ninety-Six

  Chapter Ninety-Seven

  Chapter Ninety-Eight

  Chapter Ninety-Nine

  Chapter One Hundred

  Chapter One Hundred One

  Chapter One Hundred Two

  Epilogue

  WED TO THE DOM: Heaven’s Veil MC

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Books by Zoey Parker

  WED TO THE BIKER: Skeleton Kings MC

  WED TO THE DOM: Heaven’s Veil MC

  GIFT FROM THE BAD BOY: Dark Knights MC

  KILLIAN: The O'Donnell Mafia

  GUNNER: The Immortal Devils MC

  BOUGHT BY THE BAD BOY: A Dark Mafia Romance

  STARSTRUCK: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (The Destroyers MC)

  HIS POSSESSION: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Vicious Thrills MC)

  HIS PLAYTHING: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Voodoo Devils MC)

  HIS PROPERTY: Iron Bandits MC (A Bad Boy Baby Romance)

  UNCHAINED: Metal Monsters MC

  UNTAMED: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

  UNDRESSED: Soul Catchers MC

  UNPROTECTED: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Hanley Family Mafia)

  Addicted: A Secret Baby Romance (Rebel Saints MC)

  OWN HER: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mancini Family Mafia)

  HARDCORE: Storm MC

  A Price to Pay

  Take Me, Outlaw

  Break Me, Outlaw

  Stolen

  Overdosed

  Ravage

  Bounty

  Trouble

  Monster

  Zoey Parker Mailing List

  CONVICT’S BABY: Black Dogs MC

  By Zoey Parker

  THE SEXY PRISON GUARD IS ABOUT TO HAVE THIS CONVICT’S BABY.

  I’ve never been one to follow the rules.

  But disobeying while I’m locked up might get me killed.

  Too bad I don’t give a d
amn.

  I’m gonna bend this guard over in my cell… and put my baby in her belly.

  I deserve to be in here.

  What I did was wrong.

  But g*d*mn, it felt GOOD.

  It’s been too long since I felt that good.

  Jail is no walk in the park.

  I need something in here to make me feel alive again.

  To send that adrenaline through my veins.

  I want to OWN something.

  To break something.

  Or better yet… someONE.

  And lucky for me, Sarah is the perfect pick.

  She’s a guard – I’m a prisoner.

  But this time, the risk is worth the reward.

  Because I’m not only gonna sleep with Sarah.

  I’m not only gonna make her bed for my touch, my taste, my seed.

  I’m also gonna put my baby in her belly.

  Chapter 1

  Kurt

  The rainy, chilly night of December 18 th was when the trouble started for Kurt “The Knight” Bellows.

  Of course, there were plenty of people who'd claim that the trouble had really started on the same date one year earlier when his wife and ten-month-old son were killed by a drunk driver in a brutal car wreck. And there were even some who'd swear the trouble actually began the year before that , when Kurt—an enforcer for the Black Dogs motorcycle club—somehow allowed himself to believe that he deserved the happiness of marriage and a family, without karma swooping down and cackling and shitting all over it.

  But no. Later on, Kurt would be able to insist with absolute certainty that it was this particular evening in December when everything began to go horribly wrong.

  That night, Kurt's MC accounted for almost half the patrons in the Rusty Spur Tavern in Matador, Texas. The town was their base of operations, and even though the Dogs had initially established themselves as purveyors of weed and meth, they were celebrating a new business venture that had greatly increased their income—selling fake IDs, Social Security cards, birth certificates, and other identification papers. The clientele for this service varied from high school kids who wanted to buy booze to immigrants who'd crossed over from Mexico, and even desperate fugitives.

  Ron Ribber, the president of the MC, was standing at the bar, grandly ordering rounds of drinks for his men and slapping them on the back. His niece Sarah Swanson stood at his side as she often did when she got off work. Her tiny frame was dwarfed by Ron's massive body as she laughed and traded dirty jokes with the bikers.

  But Kurt was sitting alone at the back of the tavern, chasing shots of whiskey with beer and staring down at the tabletop morosely. The sounds of happiness and triumph were drowned out by the grief that clanged in his ears, ugly and insistent, like a fire alarm.

  A year since they'd died. Did it feel like more time had passed? Less? Both?

  When he closed his eyes, he could still see the tiny crinkles at the edges of Diana 's gray eyes, and the way her curly blonde hair would gently bounce back and forth as she shook her head and laughed at him. He could still hear her soft, mellow voice as she cooed and played with Alexander, their infant son. He could still taste her breath on his lips, sweet and warm, like a summer wind.

  The rain pattered relentlessly on the roof of the bar, intruding on his memories. It had been raining the night she died, too. How long had she clung to life as the raindrops fell on the pavement around her? How long had she waited for the ambulance, holding Alexander's broken little body and watching her blood mingle with the puddles in the road? The cops and paramedics who came to give Kurt the news had said that they both died instantly and without pain.

  Kurt wanted to believe that. But he couldn't.

  He opened his eyes again, and for a split-second, he thought he was still seeing an afterimage of Diana. It caught him off guard before he realized he was looking at Sarah instead.

  And she was looking at him.

  Since Sarah was related to Ron and he was fiercely protective of her, all the men in the club made a point of treating her like she was “just one of the guys.” No one dared to look at her or talk about her in any sexual context, and this had always applied to Kurt too, since long before he'd met and married Diana.

  But the way Sarah was looking at him now, it was hard not to notice how beautiful and sexy she was. He could see the short nubs of her nipples under her tight t-shirt, and her cutoff jeans revealed her long, tan, toned legs. Her thick, wavy hair was the same shade of blonde that Diana 's had been. Her eyes were blue instead of gray, but their shape was still similar to Diana 's eyes. She even bit her lower lip in the same hesitant, sensual way, like a little girl who knew she was about to do something bad but couldn't help herself.

  And she was staring at Kurt as though he was the “something bad” she was about to do. There was seduction in those eyes—but there was tenderness, too, and compassion.

  He shot a glance at Bib, but the president was leaning over the bar to flirt with the barmaid and order another round. In fact, it seemed like he was making a concerted effort to look in every direction but Kurt's.

  Kurt looked away and shook his head, trying to clear it. He told himself that this was silly. He was overcome with grief, he'd lost count of how many shots he'd swallowed, and if his brain was telling him that Sarah reminded him of Diana and that she was giving him the eye now, well, it just meant he was so drunk he was seeing things that weren't there. He decided to have one more drink, get up, go home, and pass out before he did something he'd regret.

  But when he looked in her direction again, he saw that she was walking toward him, holding a fresh bottle and two more beers.

  “May I join you?” she asked.

  Chapter 2

  Sarah

  Sarah adopted a ridiculous French accent as she recited the punchline. “'Oh, monsieur ,' the guide says to him, 'you dare not miss! For if you do... ze moose will fuck my brother Georges! '”

  The bikers around her burst out into loud guffaws. Even Ron chuckled heartily, despite the fact that he'd heard the joke dozens of times—from Sarah, and from her father before that.

  Sarah smiled, taking a sip of her beer. This was always the best part of her day, when she could forget her boring, low-paying job at the deli counter of the local grocery store and have fun with her uncle and his Dogs. She loved their crude humor, and the way they sang and danced badly whenever the right song would come on the radio. She loved the way they talked about their bikes, the way they always smelled of leather and motor oil, the way they drank until dawn while trading stories of the outlaw life.

  But even though the Dogs were having their usual raucous good time, Sarah couldn't help but notice that one of them—her favorite one—wasn't partying with them. She briefly scanned the room and saw Kurt sitting in the corner, looking like a man who was slowly succumbing to a state of deep shock.

  Sarah had been hanging out with the MC since she was in high school, and from the very beginning, she'd had a crush on Kurt. Back then, he'd just graduated from prospect to fully-patched member, and in the years since, she'd watched his meteoric rise within the club. He'd always been Ron's favorite, a surrogate son to him, and everyone knew that one day he was destined to take over for him as president.

  When Kurt announced that he was going to marry Diana, Sarah congratulated him warmly, despite the guilty stab of jealousy in her heart. When Diana had a baby, Sarah fussed over it and gushed about how cute it was, trying not to let herself picture a life in which she and Diana had traded places.

  Then the accident happened, and ever since then, Kurt hadn't been himself and Sarah had struggled to find the right words to say to him—until enough time passed that it wouldn't be appropriate to say anything at all about it anymore.

  And now here he was, drinking shots of whiskey like they were water and looking like the loneliest person on earth.

  Sarah glanced at Ron and saw that he'd been watching her with a bemused expression.

  “It's
the one-year anniversary, isn't it?” she asked quietly.

  “Yep.”

  “I feel so bad for him.”

  Ron raised one of his bushy eyebrows, giving her a conspiratorial smile from behind his shaggy white beard. With that playful expression, he looked like some kind of biker Santa Claus about to disappear up a chimney. “From the look in your eyes, I'd say that's not all you're feeling about him.”

  Sarah blushed. “Oh, come on, that's...I mean, I'm not...”

  Ron laughed. “Don't bother. It's obvious that you've been carrying a torch for Kurt since you were still wearing braces.”

  “Obvious?” Sarah groaned. “Really? So you've known about it the whole time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do the other Dogs know?”

  “Yes.”

  Sarah blushed an even deeper shade of crimson, until her ears felt like they were on fire. “Does Kurt know?”

  Ron shrugged. “Right now, I don't think Kurt knows much about anything except the ghosts fucking around in his head. You could help him with that, though, I think.”

  Now it was Sarah's turn to raise her eyebrows. “Are you saying you'd really be okay with...that?”

  Ron put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. “Look, I'm not gonna pretend it ain't weird having this talk with my niece, okay? But you ain't a kid no more. I love you, and I love Kurt, and all I want is for both of you to be happy. Watching him sink deeper and deeper into the mud over the past year has damn near broken my heart, and if you think you've got an honest chance at yanking him back out, then you owe it to yourself—and to him—to head on over there and take your shot.”

  Sarah took a step toward Kurt's table, then wavered. “But he's drunk, and he's grieving, and... what if it's the wrong time? What if it just confuses things?”