Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance by Liz K. Lorde Page A

to be on the know about it. “We got this,” he announced, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back – looking over at Luke.
    Today was shaping up to be a bad one. “I’ll make sure it gets done, boss,” Luke promised, making certain not to use ‘we’. For reasons unknown to him, his mind meandered to the thought of those emerald eyes – the ones that let Able slip through the cracks and drift away into the dark below; the ones that still made his heart swell and sting like a knife finding its mark.
    Jasmine. Why couldn’t you save him?
    I just see his smile, Luke morosely thought. I see us running in the fields and fighting over Tracy at the beach and kicking down sandcastles; I just can’t stop missing you little bro. In all her beauty and splendor the woman faded from his mind.
    Allen slammed his fist against the table as if it were a gavel. “Dismissed,” he declared authoritatively.
    The men collectively got up from their chairs and made their way from the Knights Round and through the door, leading to the bar and lounge. The lounge was an impressive sight. The floors were decked with fine wood of all kinds, some polished with a nice sheen while others were dull and aged – giving the place a unique, if not mismatched kind of beauty. Two pool tables sat on either end of the room with a half crescent, black leather couch that sat in the middle, atop an old Persian rug of vivid reds and lustrous gold.
    The bar itself was beyond well stocked – if you could think of a hard liquor, the house surely had it. The counter was black with gold trim and it was spacious enough to fit well over a dozen people. One TV was mounted from the ceiling while another was facing the crescent couch.
    Luke’s favorite piece of furniture was of course the old jukebox that Allen’s father had left the boys before he passed. It had, and played, everything from hard rock to smooth jazz to the sweetest country – it made sure that the nights were never quiet and never dull.
    The club itself had several guest rooms and was tucked away deep within the woods, which was both beneficial to the club’s secrecy and its defense. Not that anyone had ever been dumb enough to have raided it since Luke was just a boy.
    With a buzz, he could feel his phone vibrating again – he produced it from his pocket as he walked past the bar. Kayla again, Jesus Christ. Placing it to his ear, he tried to contain his annoyance. “Speak.”
    “Hey baby,” Kayla’s voice was soft and sultry, “when are you getting home?” Try never.
    “Can’t say when,” he replied, eyeing the tequila on the shelf as he strode by.
    Robert caught up to him.
    He could hear Kayla sigh on the other end. “Okay,” she said, both defeated and pissed at the same damn time. That woman was more trouble than she was worth, but she was well ingrained into The Life – her father, J.D, was one of the few remaining original members of the Knights. “Just make sure you actually come home, baby – you know your kitten misses you,” she went and did that stupid thing where she pretends that she’s a cat.
    His mind went to Jasmine. His senses lit up, a ball of need forming just behind his cock – he could practically smell her, the sweet scent of rain filling his nostrils. Was it wrong that he wanted to taste her? That he wanted to be inside of her?
    “Baby,” Kayla whined. “Are you even paying attention?”
    “Yeah,” he snapped back to reality, “look I’ll be home I just have shit that needs to be done, so lay off. I’ll call you later,” he clicked the phone off and shook his head.
    Robert gave that stupid smirk, “Still banging Rochester’s girl eh? Man you two been at it forever now.”
    “Yes,” he replied in a curt manner. “Wait here and I’ll get the stash, don’t move,” Luke ordered.
    Robert lifted his hands and wagged them jazzily. “Heil Hitler,” he remarked.
    Luke made his way into his guest room, grabbing the crowbar beneath his