Before Us (The Next Generation Book 3) Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  IBSN: 978-1-989782-10-1

  Before Us (Next Generation, #3) A Novella

  Copyright 2020, J.M. Walker

  Angel and Genevieve “Jay” Rodriguez

  (Grit, King’s Harlots #1/Grim, King’s Harlots #3)

  Angelica “Gigi”

  Ryder

  Meadow

  Asher and Meeka Donovan

  (Stain, King’s Harlots #2)

  Aiden

  Ashton

  Coby and Brogan Porter

  (Rude, King’s Harlots #4/For You, King’s Harlots #7)

  Zachary “Zach”

  Dale and Maxine “Max” Michaels

  (Numb, King’s Harlots #5)

  Piper

  Vincent “Stone” and Creena Stone

  (Rust, King’s Harlots #6)

  Luna

  Vincent Junior

  Greyson and Eve Mercer

  (Greyson, Hell’s Harlem #1)

  Jaron

  Tray and Zillah Lister

  (Tray, Hell’s Harlem #2)

  Beatrix “Bee”

  John and Beatrix “Trixie” Butcher

  (Hell’s Harlem Series)

  Cyrus

  Samson “Sammy”

  For more information, visit

  https://www.aboutjmwalker.com/books

  FAMILY TREE

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  BONUS EPILOGUE

  FREE BOOK

  THANK YOU

  ABOUT

  Piper

  WHEN I LEFT his bed, I wondered where I’d gone wrong. Why life was throwing these curveballs at me. At us. Why had it decided to play these evil tricks on my heart?

  I was happy. Content.

  And then he showed up.

  I was in another country and he still found me. Was he looking for me? Did he even know I existed before he sat down across from me at the little café in Paris?

  “Piper.”

  My name on his tongue was like a kiss to the back of my neck. The deep timbre slid over my body, touching every inch of me. Inside and out.

  “You know who I am,” I said, allowing my eyes to rake over his large form. The leather cut he was wearing did nothing to hide the muscles beneath it.

  I remembered him from when I was a girl, but now I was looking at him with the eyes of a woman.

  “Of course I know who you are.” He sat forward, his smoky-gray eyes dropping to the cleavage poking out from my shirt. “Are you on vacation?”

  “Backpacking.” I noticed his full lips, my mouth watering at what it would be like to kiss him.

  It had been years since I had seen Jaron Mercer. Probably since before I even hit puberty. But the way he was looking at me now made me realize that I was no longer the little girl he used to tease with the other boys we grew up with.

  “Your parents let you come here by yourself?” He raised an eyebrow and licked along his full bottom lip.

  Heat rushed through me, my heart picking up speed at the small movement. “Who says I’m alone?”

  He smirked, causing dimples to form in his cheeks.

  Letting out a slow breath, I reached for my glass of water with a shaky hand. “Are you on vacation?” I asked, taking a sip of the cold liquid.

  His smirk grew. “I was here on business, but now I think I’ll add some pleasure to this trip.”

  “What kind of pleasure?” I asked, suddenly curious about the man I no longer knew.

  As soon as that question left my mouth, the rest of the night ended up in a blur.

  Every part of me tingled with the memory of him touching me. Kissing me. Consuming me.

  I looked back at the man lying in the bed. The white sheets hung low on his hips, the large tattoo of a skull with horns moving slightly on his back with each breath he took.

  My hands tingled, itching to reach out to him and crawl back into his warmth. But I couldn’t. As much as I didn’t want to, I had to get home. I had to get away from the man who would destroy everything I knew and save me just the same.

  Piper

  IT ALL STARTED with a look.

  A touch here. A wink there. A smirk. And then dimples. Those damn dimples. They got to me every time. And the way he looked at me; like I was the only one who existed in his world even though I knew it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Our relationship, if you could call it that, was toxic. It wasn’t real. It was never real. It was just a fantasy that I made up in my head. We could never be together. Although, the sex was very real. The feelings I had for him, however, were not. I refused to feel anything for the man who came to me in my dreams.

  When I slipped out of the hotel room almost five weeks ago in Paris, I never expected to run into him again. Even though we grew up together as kids, I hadn’t seen Jaron Mercer in years. Not until he showed up out of nowhere when I was backpacking through Europe and happened to make a stop in Paris. It was a small world when he sat down in front of me at the little café I’d come across. We talked for half an hour before we crashed into his hotel room and he bent me over the nearest surface.

  “You’re going to remember me for the rest of your life.”

  And I would. My body clenched, aching to be filled by him again even though I knew he was dangerous for me.

  Jaron was more than your typical bad boy. Besides being a member of his father’s motorcycle club, you wouldn’t know just how bad he actually was until it was too late. With those silver-gray eyes of his and those damn dimples, I didn’t know just how lethal he could be until he had me screaming his name and begging for more.

  “Ride my dick, Piper. Give it to me good and hard. I want my cock to motherfucking ache because of you.”

  The things he had said to me. Promises. Fantasies. It was dirty talk to the extreme. I had been with other guys, but no one ever came close to him.

  And now, sitting in the bar with a couple of my girlfriends, his eyes drilled into me from the other side of the large room. The tiny hairs on my body stood on end. My cheeks burned. I squirmed and shifted in my seat. All because of him.

  “Is that …” Angelica Rodriguez smacked my arm, her caramel eyes widening. “Holy shit, girl. It is. That’s Jaron Mercer. Didn’t you have a crush on him at some point?”

  My cheeks burned even more. I still did.

  “I think we all did. Jaron Mercer.” Meadow sighed, fanning herself. “He’s looking so damn good these days.”

  I laughed, shaking my head at the two sisters who were only a few years apart but were the complete opposite in everything they did.

  “Come on, Piper.” Meadow pointed at me, pursing her full red lips. “You know it’s true. Although, he’s a little too young for me.” She winked. Sitting back, she pulled her shoulder- length, black, curly hair up into a messy bun. A few curls fell, framing her face.

  “Young?” Gigi frowned. “He’s our age.”

  “Exactly.” Meadow tapped her nose, a slow grin spreading on her face. “He is hot, but he doesn’t do it for me.”
She met my gaze. “So, Piper. He’s all yours.”

  I coughed, my neck heating, and took a sip of my beer. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Gigi laughed that time. “Right, and I don’t have a thing for Luna’s younger brother.”

  “So taboo.” Meadow clapped her hands together. “I love it.”

  Vincent Junior was the youngest out of our group of friends, but not by much. Although it made Gigi several years older than him, none of us cared. She did, so she never acted on her feelings.

  “I wonder if they like pastries.” Meadow took a long swig of her beer. “That’s a deal-breaker, you know? They have to like sweets or they’re not getting into my sweetness.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, God.”

  Gigi only giggled.

  While Meadow baked, Angelica, or Gigi as she liked to be called, danced. She was tall, lean, and strong. The moves I had seen her do were motivating. Although I could never dance like her, it did give me that push I needed to work out.

  She was damn good at what she did, too. They both were. I, on the other hand, was stuck. I had no hobbies. Although I enjoyed drawing and painting like my mother, Maxine, did, it was just for fun. And most of my artwork was just doodling. I still hadn’t found my niche, but I did enjoy traveling. Maybe I could find a job where I got paid to see the world. I bit my inner cheek to keep from sighing. Again. I had been doing that a lot lately.

  “We should go say hi,” Gigi suggested, taking a sip of her beer.

  “How about we not.” I really didn’t want to talk to Jaron. No. I wanted to fuck him and have him do all the talking instead.

  “I’m going to stretch this pussy wide with my thick cock.”

  I shivered, scrubbing a hand down my face as the memories of that night so many weeks ago slid into my mind.

  “You okay, Piper?” Meadow asked, raising a dark brown eyebrow. “Are you fantasizing about having Jaron between those legs of yours?”

  “Oh, God.” I laughed. “Stop. No wonder you’re still single.”

  “Shut up.” She threw a napkin at me. “I’m single because I’m picky and no one can handle all of this.” She made a motion of running her hands down her body.

  “Well at least we know her ego isn’t small.” Gigi threw a toothpick at her sister.

  “Seriously though.” Meadow sighed. “I just wish a guy wouldn’t be so damn skeevy when I ask him to invite a friend along. There is nothing wrong with threesomes.” She pouted.

  “Uh …” I took a sip of my beer. “No, there isn’t.”

  “Yeah.” Gigi turned to me, waggling her eyebrows. “How are those twins doing?”

  “They want nothing to do with me since I broke it off.” I shrugged. “No big deal. It’s for the better.”

  “I’m sorry.” Gigi patted my hand.

  Meadow scrunched her nose. “Their loss, babe. I love those guys like brothers, but they need to move on. Especially if that’s what you want.”

  I wasn’t even sure what I wanted anymore.

  “Not to make this conversation even heavier but have you girls heard from Luna?” Gigi asked, checking her phone.

  “No.” Meadow checked hers.

  I shook my head.

  Our friend had gotten into a fight with her dad over her boyfriend. It was a mess and now here we were at the bar. Drinking. While Luna went home to her boyfriend’s place and was probably having wild crazy monkey sex. I was so damn jealous of her.

  My center throbbed. God, even my body missed Jaron. “I’m sure she’s fine.” I pulled back the rest of my beer, wishing I had more all of a sudden.

  “I wonder what that life is like.” Gigi tapped her chin.

  “What do you mean?” I stood, stretching my arms up and over my head.

  “The biker life. I know our moms lived it, but it must be different for guys.” Gigi shrugged. “I think I’m drunk.”

  I laughed. “Well then, that calls for another round.” I headed to the bar and grabbed three more beers.

  The hairs on the back of my neck tingled but I refused to look his way. If he wanted to talk, he could come to me. When the bartender placed the drinks on a tray, I smiled up at him and carried it over to the girls. “More beer, ladies.”

  “You’re the best.” Gigi grabbed a glass and took a large gulp. She coughed.

  “Lightweight.” Meadow giggled, taking her own beer.

  “I think that’s what our moms were trying to change,” I added. All of our mothers were part of the King’s Harlots motorcycle club. They were the only female MC in this area and now they volunteered at a center, known as The Dove Project, that helped human trafficking victims. “I’m just glad they never expected us to follow in their footsteps. Although, I don’t think our fathers would have let that happen anyway.”

  “Could you imagine?” Gigi winced. “I can hear the conversation now. ‘Hey, Dad, I want to become a Harlot.’ His response would be, ‘Over my dead fucking body’,” she said in her best deep voice.

  We laughed.

  “No kidding.” Meadow stood.

  “Where are you going?” Gigi asked her.

  “Bathroom.” Meadow rolled her eyes. “Is that allowed, Mom?”

  “Fine, fine.” Gigi waved a hand in front of her, almost knocking her glass out of her other hand.

  “Alright, girl.” I took the glass from her and placed it on the table in front of us. “Take a moment.”

  She smiled at me, though it looked more like a sneer. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I laughed lightly. “I think we need some water.”

  Three glasses of water suddenly appeared on the table.

  I glanced up at the bartender.

  “I overheard you.” He nodded toward Gigi. “Don’t need her getting sick.”

  “She’ll be fine.” I rubbed her upper back. “Won’t you?”

  She sighed, running her hand down my cheek. “You’re so pretty.”

  “We’ll be fine,” I told the bartender. “Thank you.”

  He nodded once.

  “Alright, girlfriend.” I took her glass of beer and placed it in front of me. “I think you’re cut off.”

  A dark shadow suddenly loomed over the table.

  My heart sped up. My hands became clammy. I felt him before I saw him. The scent of leather and spice washed over me, sending my emotions into overdrive.

  “Ladies.” A large man placed a tray of beer on the table before sitting across from us. “Mind if we join you?”

  “If you’re supplying the beer—” Gigi picked a bottle off the tray “—not at all.”

  “I like how you think.” The man nodded once, and we were surrounded.

  “Hey, Gigi.”

  God that voice. That deep velvet voice. So smooth. So damn confident.

  “Hey, Jaron. It’s been awhile,” Gigi slurred, making small talk with the man who had been inside my head for the past several weeks.

  “It has. How’s your family?” Jaron pulled up a chair and sat right beside me. He was so close, I might as well have been sitting on his lap.

  “Good,” she answered. “How’s yours doing?”

  “Not too bad. Busy as always.” Jaron pulled my chair closer to his.

  While they continued making small talk, I couldn’t help but notice the way Jaron kept his hand on the edge of my seat. Or how his thumb brushed small circles on my hip. Or how good he smelled. God, he smelled so fucking good. Leather mixed with a hint of spice. It was man. Pure, hard man.

  “How’s it going, Piper?”

  I chewed my bottom lip, biting back a whimper at the way my name sounded on his tongue. “Good.” I looked up at him then and everything seemed to fall away from around us.

  His gray eyes pierced into mine. His dark beard had grown in and was fuller than when I saw him in Paris. What I wouldn’t give to feel it between my legs.

  My body heated. I squirmed in my seat.

  He smirked, his gaze falling to my mouth. “Y
ou look good.”

  My heart stuttered at the compliment.

  “I still taste good too,” I threw back at him, low enough for only him to hear.

  His grin grew. “I bet you do.”

  Clearing my throat, I turned back around as Meadow returned from the bathroom.

  “Ooh. Hello, boys.” She waggled her eyebrows and sat at the table between the man who gave us the beer, and another one who looked at her like he wanted to be her lap dog.

  I laughed, shaking my head.

  “Do you ladies come here often?” asked the one who gave us beer.

  “Ignore him,” Jaron teased, resting his arm across the back of my chair. His thumb brushed over my bare arm. I should have worn more clothes. “He doesn’t get out much. Isn’t that right, old man?”

  “Fuck you I don’t.” The man crossed his arms under his broad chest. He leaned over to Meadow. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-two.” She grinned. “Why?”

  The man pulled her onto his lap. “Good enough for me.”

  She laughed. “Don’t get any ideas in that old brain of yours. My daddy would kick your ass if he knew you were rubbing your dick against me.”

  “Your daddy doesn’t scare me,” he growled in her ear. He said something else, low enough for only her to hear.

  Meadow coughed, caught my gaze, and gave me a wink. “You know it’s rude to tell secrets in front of people.” She cupped the older man’s face. “Why don’t you tell our friends here what you just said?”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, Sunny,” Jaron said. “Tell us what you said.”

  “I’d really like to hear this,” the guy beside him added.

  Sunny cleared his throat. “I said to her—”

  “No,” Meadow interrupted. “Tell them what you just said. To me.”

  Watching the exchange between them was something else. Meadow had always been the flirty one of our group, but I never truly saw her in action. The way she had Sunny wrapped around her finger was … hot as hell.

  “Don’t get any ideas, Piper,” Jaron muttered.

  I rolled my eyes. Not like that would happen anyway. I didn’t have a dominant bone in my body.