Leather & Chrome Series
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Owned
Dive into the fun and sexy world of Kiki Clark's Leather & Chrome series!
When the executive chef where Tony works has one meltdown too many, he decides to take matters—and the tiny terror's gorgeous ass—into his own hands.
This spicy short story includes a sub in desperate need of a firm hand, a Dom more than willing to give him one, figging during a spanking, bondage with light Shibari, and a motorcycle club that always shows up for one another.
Read an excerpt:
“Please don’t leave,” Roman whispered. Fuck him sideways. The haughty, European-trained chef, who hadn’t seemed to even notice Tony until a couple of months ago, was begging him to stay. Sucking in a breath, Tony took a step, halving the distance between them. “Why? Why does it matter so much to you?” Tony’s dick thickened in his tight, black work pants as Roman nibbled on his lower lip, making the pale pink skin darken, and he was hit with the image of those pretty lips wrapped around his cock. Or parted and panting, chanting his name. Or forced open around a ball gag. “I…” Roman’s cheeks darkened a little more, and his eyes dropped to the ground at Tony’s feet. That just wasn’t acceptable. “Keep your eyes on me, Roman,” he ordered, his voice a little deeper and huskier with arousal. He knew what he was doing and that it was a terrible, awful, no-good idea, but he couldn’t stop himself. Every dominant instinct in his body had been barking at him for weeks despite how much he’d tried to ignore them. Something told him a lot more than his job was on the line in that moment. That Roman’s answer could change… everything. Inky-black lashes fluttered, and Roman’s lips parted on a tiny gasp, but then he was holding Tony’s eyes, trembling fingers landing on his ribs. The vest and button-up he had to wear kept him from feeling the heat of that touch, but that didn’t matter. It especially didn’t matter when he felt Roman grip the material in his hands and whisper, “Yes, sir.” Instantly, the tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders began to ease as he cupped Roman’s neck, his long fingers clasping his downy nape. Fuck Carl. Tony couldn’t just walk away, no matter what he’d been telling himself. Those two words sealed his fate faster than anything else. The gnawing feeling in his gut that Roman was a distressed sub, acting out for attention and the need for a firm hand, had been right on the money. He couldn’t just turn his back and leave him to continue throwing tantrums at Five Roses until Carl fired him or Benji did something to get the place shut down. Roman had somehow wormed his way into his heart over the last couple of months, even as he drove Tony crazy at times. He’d been holding himself at arm’s length, doing what he could to diffuse situations without stepping over the line, but that was over. Tracing the edge of Roman’s jaw with his thumb, he said clearly, “Good boy.” “Tony…” Roman was staring at him with something close to worship on his face, and his dick hardened further. God damn, the man was beautiful. “Answer my question,” Tony said, needing to hear the words before he tossed a match on his carefully planned life. “Why do you need me to stay?” Roman stared straight into his eyes. “Because… I don’t know who will take care of me if you go.”
Reckless
Ride hard. Love harder. Live recklessly.
Tank is done with his old life. All it's brought him is trouble and misery in the form of a four-year prison term. Though he did find one good thing while behind bars: Charles "CJ" Crane, pen pal extraordinaire.
After months of exchanging increasingly personal letters, Tank knows exactly where he's headed as soon as the prison gates open. CJ doesn't know he's coming, and he's not sure what he'll say when he gets there, but he knows one thing for certain.
The promises he and his boy made to each other in their letters may have been reckless, but he's willing to risk everything he’s got on finding out if what they have could be real.
Reckless is the first book in the Leather & Chrome series and features a motorcycle club's annual charity ride, a possessive biker whose new favorite color is pink, a twenty-four-year-old overly eager to experience his first time, and an excessive appreciation for perfectly lined tattoos.
Read an excerpt:
Back before prison, before CJ stole his heart with messily penned letters with doodles in the corners, Tank would have already had them both naked and under the water. They both knew what they wanted, and that used to be enough for Tank to take control and move things along. He got in, got out, and never looked back. That approach obviously wouldn’t work with CJ, and letting his boy lead things seemed to be slowing down their momentum. But how much control did CJ want to give up to him? Some of the things he’d written… Tank wasn’t sure where fantasy and reality met and where they diverged. “The shower isn’t very big,” CJ finally said, glancing up at Tank. He held Tank’s gaze for a moment, then took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and raised his chin. “But you can come in with me if you want. Um, I mean, I’d like it if you came with me. Or, well, I want…” He slumped and scrubbed at his face. “Good gracious, I’m terrible at this.” “CJ.” He waited until he held his bright green eyes, then stepped forward and wrapped him back in his arms. “I know it’s… weird that I’m here. I probably shouldn’t have just shown up without giving you any warning.” Pressing a quick kiss to CJ’s cheek, he said, “I should go. We can start over and do this right. Maybe start with an actual date—” “What? No, don’t leave!” CJ’s fingers dug into his shoulders, his eyes wide with panic. “I’m sorry I don’t know what to do, but I want you here, I promise.” Tank studied his face, looking for any sign that CJ wasn’t being completely honest. All he found was desperation and need. Two things he could easily help him with. “You don’t need to know what to do,” he finally murmured, tightening his hold and loving how CJ melted against him. “Tell me one thing, and we’ll go from there, okay?” “Alright,” CJ whispered, leaning in and inhaling at the base of Tank’s throat, then humming. Jesus, his dick was going to break his fucking zipper. Clearing his throat, he slid one hand up into the hair at the back of CJ’s head and forced him to tip his face up so he could look into his eyes. “How much of what you said you wanted in your letters was true?” Sucking in a breath and holding it, CJ stared up at him for a moment, neither of them moving. Finally, he whispered on an exhale, “Everything, Tank. Everything I said I wanted you to do to me was the truth.” Bingo. “You’re sure?” he growled, tightening his grip on the strands he held. His dick twitched at the moan CJ gave him, and he was suddenly greedy for more. He wanted to feast on the beautiful sounds his boy would release. CJ nodded, eyes falling shut. “I’d let you do anything.”
Temptation
Ride hard. Love harder. Give in to temptation.
Living a hard life has turned Six into a hard man. One who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty to keep his club, or those they protect, safe.
He’s ready for more though. More than one night with hookups who don’t see anything other than his club patch. He’s ready to use his hands to caress and discipline a boy of his own. But the night he meets Ollie, he’s willing to do whatever it takes to have him, even if it’s only for a single night.
Nothing goes to plan and the boy ends up under his protection. Untouchable.
Tempting.
And if he thought Ollie was gorgeous in his tight jeans, he’s absolutely breathtaking in his skirts.
Six has to have him.
He may never be good enough for a boy as dazzlingly perfect as Ollie, but he’ll never let him go. He’s the only one who can give him exactly what he needs.
A home.
Temptation is the second book in the Leather & Chrome series but can be enjoyed on its own. The story features an age gap, forced proximity, an inclusive motorcycle club, a quiet biker with a firm hand, a hairstylist with more sass than caution, a well-negotiated TPE, and an avid appreciation for watching.
CW: Domestic Violence. Please see Author’s Note for additional information
Read an excerpt:
He didn’t know why his alarm was going off so early, but he was going to murder his phone. As he reached for it on his bedside table, he jammed his fingers into a wall. “Fuck me running,” he moaned, cradling his hand against his chest and forcing his eyes open. Oh, right. He wasn’t at home; he was in Six’s bed. And Six’s bed had a wall on the right side instead of a bedside table. Groaning, he flipped onto his left side, then hissed when the sore side of his face smooshed into the pillow. Finally, the loud ringing stopped, and he relaxed onto his back, trying to decide if he was in too much pain to go back to sleep. His face was throbbing a bit, but his fingers were already feeling better, so he figured there was a good chance. “No, I was up,” Six grunted in a totally not believable voice. “It’s fine… Uh-huh… No, I can come now… Mom, I said it’s fine.” That got Ollie bolting upright. Mom? Six was lying on his back, one knee bent and foot planted on the cot as he rubbed at his eyes, phone pressed to his ear. Then he fucking chuckled. “Yes, ma’am, I hear you… Okay, see you soon.” Ollie waited only as long as it took for Six to end the call, and then he pounced. “That was your mom? Are we going to see her? What should I wear?” He was running through the clothes he’d brought with him, trying to figure out what was appropriate to wear to meet the mother of the man who watched him jerk off the night before and instructed him on how to make himself come. Probably jeans and a sweater… Had he brought his dark gray one? “You’ll be staying here,” Six said, pushing himself up off the cot with a grunt. Ollie didn’t even bother to try not to stare at the raging case of morning wood he had going on in his gray sweats. God, he looked big. Ollie had known it. The man exuded the easy kind of confidence that came from having big dick energy. Wait, what? He was staying here? “What? Why? I thought I had to stay with you?” He pouted, but Six didn’t even bother looking over at him as he headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Sighing, Ollie flopped back onto the bed. If he wasn’t going to get to meet the woman who’d brought Six into the world, he was going back to sleep. The sun was peeking in through the blinds, but it was still too early for him to be up on a weekend. He was just getting comfy when the bathroom door reopened, and Six tugged the blankets off him with a rough jerk. “Hey!” he screeched, sitting up and scrambling to grab the covers. “I was using those.” “Get dressed, Ollie.” Six picked up his suitcase and tossed it onto the end of the bed. “No, I’m going back to sleep.” He realized there was someone in the bathroom when he heard a deep chuckle through the open door. “Got a feisty one,” the guy said, and Ollie preened at the approval in his tone. “Should I lend you my paddle?” Ollie gasped. “Excuse you! I don’t need paddling.” Though he may have wanted it, especially from someone like Six. But that stranger in the bathroom didn’t know that. And he was implying that Ollie’s behavior needed correcting, which was just wrong. Ollie was a goddamn delight. Six held his hand up toward the bathroom. “Hold it, Tank. He’s still naked.” That made the guy laugh louder for some reason. Wait. Tank? As in, CJ’s husband Tank? As in, possibly the man CJ was cheating on with Six? Ollie scrambled to his feet and unzipped his suitcase. He wasn’t about to miss the chance to see how those two were around each other or maybe ask CJ about his relationship with Six. He pulled on the first pair of underwear he came to, which happened to be a black thong eerily similar to the one CJ had been wearing last night. After tugging on a pair of tight jeans—what? He didn’t own any that weren’t tight, okay? He worked hard on his ass and liked to show it off—and a slim-fitting shirt that said Daddy’s Little Creampie, he turned to Six and held out his arms. “There. Happy?” Six was grinding his teeth together so hard, it didn’t seem like he was able to speak, but when a choked voice that sounded like CJ said, “Oh my god,” Six darted in front of Ollie, blocking him from view of the men in the bathroom, and glared down at him. “Change your shirt.” “No.” He smiled up at Six. “I like this one just fine.”
Yearning
Ride hard. Love harder. Yearn for more.
Houston has a secret. One he hasn’t even shared with his motorcycle club. One that involves rope and dominance and pretty little subs kneeling at his feet.
And he’s fine with that. Prefers it, really. It keeps his life nice and orderly.
But the night Kenneth dropped into his life changed everything. Entranced, he watched the sweet nurse stitch up one of his brothers—and then slip away. Even after he’s gone, his shy eyes full of desperate yearning continue to haunt him.
Houston has an idea of what the boy needs. And he thinks he’s just the Dom to give it to him.
Besides, what good is a carefully compartmentalized life when he could have Kenneth instead?
Yearning is the third book in the Leather & Chrome series but can be enjoyed on its own. The story features a missed connection made right, an age gap, nosy friends with the best of intentions, a possessive biker with a heart of gold, and golden-brown skin wrapped in teal rope.
Read an excerpt:
Gathering himself, Kenneth swiped at his dry cheeks before running his fingers through his hair to make sure it was still orderly and touching the arms of his glasses. He coughed lightly to clear the emotions out of his throat and tugged at the hem of his coat to straighten it, feeling like he needed thicker armor to withstand the piercing eyes of the man in front of him. He didn’t meet Houston’s gaze as he said, “That was a private conversation.” Houston didn’t say anything for a moment, but he did cross his big arms over his chest, and Kenneth realized the man wasn’t wearing a coat. And he hadn’t been in the hospital either. Nothing but dark brown skin and what looked like the softest gray V-neck covered his torso. He tried not to stare at how large his biceps and shoulders looked or how the material clung to the hard lines of Houston’s chest and abdomen. He definitely didn’t peek at the tattoos running down one arm and poking out from the edge of his sleeve on the other. “And that’s why I apologized,” Houston said, his voice a little firmer. “Despite the fact that your private conversation was in a public setting.” His face heated at the gentle reprimand even as his dick stirred, and he ducked his head further. A part of him wished he’d just continued to his car instead of pausing to finish his conversation in the stairwell, but the rest of him wondered what Houston would do if Kenneth pushed a little harder, got a little brattier. But he shook off the idea before it could even take root. Not only was it really not in his nature to be any kind of brat—he refused to even let himself contemplate Houston correcting his behavior like they were in some sort of relationship. Besides, Houston was right. Kenneth couldn’t be upset someone had heard him when he’d known he wasn’t alone. And he wasn’t upset, not really. He was embarrassed that someone he knew—even if only a little—had maybe heard him talking about his family’s dirty laundry and was maybe judging him. How much had Houston heard? Did he know now that Kenneth’s dad was an abusive jerk to Kat? Did Houston think less of him now? Either from coming from a family like that or for not doing a good enough job protecting his sister? It was so dumb. He had no business caring what the man may or may not have heard or should have even been giving him a second thought. He’s probably married, remember? Wrapping his arms around himself, he did his best to meet Houston’s eyes and at least pretend he was a fully functioning adult. “Of course. Um… Did you or Tank need something before I left?” Maybe they wanted him to explain something the nursing supervisor had said? The medical terms and jargon could be overwhelming for families; he saw it all the time, especially with the parents of his kiddos. Er, patients. They were his patients, not his kids, and he was professional enough not to get overly attached. Or, at least, that was what he told his own supervisor whenever she got on his case. “No, it wasn’t that.” Houston’s posture shifted, his arms lowering and hands tucking into the pockets of his dark jeans. Kenneth had a feeling that he was trying to look relaxed and casual so Kenneth would relax, but there was just something about him that made him seem like he was never truly at ease. That he could pounce at a moment’s notice. Kenneth refused to think about what it would be like to have Houston pounce on him. “I wanted to thank you, for staying with him.” “You don’t have to thank me,” Kenneth said, squinting in confusion. He hadn’t done it for Houston—he hadn’t even known Houston was coming. “No one should have to sit and wait for news about a loved one by themselves.” Houston was studying him, like Tank had in the ER, only with more… intensity. It made him shiver and bite down on his lip, eyes dropping for a second before he forced himself to raise them once more. “I’m still grateful,” Houston said softly, taking a step closer. “And I’d like to repay you.” Kenneth stared at him. “Repay me how?” Houston’s dark eyes ran down Kenneth’s body, slowly, then returned to his flushed face. He grinned, but it wasn’t reassuring. It was… predatory. And arousing. Dear god was it arousing. Kenneth had never wanted to be prey more in his life.
Joyful
Ride hard. Love harder. Celebrate joyfully.
Rooster’s known he was a caretaker his whole life, but finding a boy who needed the same things he wanted to give had been… difficult.
Until sweet Emmett Moore falls back into his life.
Even though he’d practically grown up in the Moore house as Emmett’s brother’s best friend, it was like Rooster had never actually known the quiet young man. But anyone who shows up at a motorcycle club’s clubhouse to decorate Christmas cookies in a Snoopy sweater and superhero apron was someone he definitely wanted to get to know better.
Especially when he realizes the one thing he’s always wanted in a relationship might be the one thing Emmett has never been able to share with someone.
Was it too much to hope for a Christmas miracle?
Joyful features cookie decorating, a motorcycle club that accepts everyone, Snowball the dragon, a ceiling full of glow-in-the-dark stars, more Christmas presents than anyone could ever need, and mild age play (without ABDL). A fluffy, low angst holiday novella set in the world of the bestselling Leather & Chrome series. Each story can be read on its own and guarantees an HEA.
Read an excerpt:
That was little Emmett Moore whose ass he’d been staring at just a second ago. Rooster couldn’t decide if he should be horrified or laughing. What were the chances he and Erik’s little brother would both end up sucked into the Devil’s Hands club? Well, him a little more thoroughly than Emmett, but he had to be the “supersweet” roommate Viper had been going on about for months. His cut felt heavy on his shoulders as he took another step forward, eyes running over Emmett’s curvy little body all on their own. He’d always been shorter than the other Moore siblings and a little rounder, more interested in indoor activities than the sports his parents had shoved the others into. Rooster had heard from Erik earlier that year about some family get-together the Moores had done and how annoying he’d found it that Emmett still wouldn’t play when the family put together a pickup game of basketball or touch football. Erik’s complaints had grated on Rooster’s nerves, but he’d held his tongue because it wasn’t his family despite how much time he’d spent with the Moores growing up. But staring into Emmett’s shocked eyes, his soft little body covered in a fucking Snoopy Christmas sweater, real anger stirred in his gut at the way his own brother had spoken about him. But Rooster shoved that aside and smiled, wondering how it was Emmett had managed to get even cuter than he’d been the last time he’d seen him. “Hey, Emmett.” Six’s boy, Ollie, was looking back and forth between them like they were a high-stakes tennis match. “How do you know Rooster, Em?” “Rooster?” Emmett’s button nose scrunched up adorably, but he didn’t look away from Rooster’s face. “That’s his club name,” Knuckles said from behind Emmett, chuckling and waggling his eyebrows in a ridiculous way when he caught Rooster’s gaze. “Oh, right.” Emmett’s pale skin blushed hot pink, and his golden-brown eyes dropped to the floor. Rooster frowned, not liking not having his gaze on him, but Ollie piped up helpfully with “Six says it’s because he has a big—” and Emmett’s head jerked back up, lips parting in shock. “Ollie!” CJ said, hurrying around the table and shooting Ollie a disapproving look. “That’s not necessary. How do you two know each other though?” When it seemed like Emmett couldn’t say anything, Rooster offered without breaking eye contact, “Emmett’s brother, Erik, and I were best friends growing up. I practically lived at the Moore house.” “Huh. Small world.” CJ smiled at him, then grabbed Ollie’s arm and dragged him away to give him and Emmett some space. Tank’s boy was sweet like that. Knuckles shot him a wink before disappearing back into the kitchen. No one else seemed to be around, so Rooster closed about half the distance between the two of them, but that still left them more than an arm’s length apart. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he finally offered, hoping to break the ice and get Emmett to look at him again instead of the hem of the apron he was worrying between his fingers. Emmett flinched and took a step back, bumping into a box on the floor. “I can leave. Roni said it was okay that I come and help with the cookies, but if I’d known this was your club… I’m sorry. Is it too weird for you?” His soft, sweet voice tickled at Rooster’s dominant instincts, driving him to do his best to put him at ease. “You don’t have to be sorry, and you definitely don’t have to leave, Emmett. It’s not weird for me.” He finally peeked a look up at him. “Are you sure?” Fuck, he looked like… Rooster shook off the thought. There was no way he’d be that lucky. Even with the Snoopy sweater and superhero apron. “I’m positive. I’d love for you to stay so we could catch up.” Emmett beamed up at him, dimples appearing in his cheeks. Damn, had he always had those? “Are you going to help too?” Rooster eyed the setup on the table. There were… a lot of cookies needing to be frosted. When he turned back to Emmett, some of his enthusiasm had waned at Rooster’s hesitation. “It’s okay. I’m sure you have other things you need to do.” Emmett nodded at Rooster’s chest, where a patch that read Rooster was sewn on his pec and Secretary underneath that. “Um, club things.” He’d been planning on talking to Tomas about a scheduling issue so it would be resolved before Church on Monday, but it wasn’t urgent. The only urgent thing he had to do was try and make Emmett flash those dimples at him again. “I can hang out for a bit. I doubt I’ll be any good at decorating the cookies though.” There they were. Emmett beamed, the little divots in his cheeks tempting Rooster in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. “That’s okay. I’ll help you.” So fucking cute.
Possession
Ride hard. Love harder. Take possession.
Being the boss has left no room for things like love and family in Tomas’s life. He tells himself he doesn’t mind, that the work he and his MC do is more important than his cold bed at night.
He almost has himself convinced.
But as tensions heat up between the MC and the community, a pair of boys in need of affection and a firm hand disrupt his orderly days and leave him aching to possess them at night.
Mason is sweetness and obedience, his dark eyes begging for things Tomas has only fantasized about. But Vinnie’s submission is wrapped in a hard outer shell he’ll need to carefully crack open to uncover the good boy underneath.
It isn’t just Tomas’s heart on the line—it’s the legacy of the Devil’s Hands.
And he’s not willing to trade one for the other.
His boys are everything he’s ever wanted, and the club’s work is something he’s not willing to sacrifice to appease hateful bystanders.
It’s time for a reminder of just who the hell they’re dealing with.
Possession is book five in Kiki Clark’s best-selling Leather & Chrome series, following a motorcycle club as they discover their hidden desires. The story features the polyamorous President of the Devil’s Hands MC, an older Dom and his two younger subs, the discipline or praise each boy needs, a pierced eggplant, a birthday party that gets a smidge out of hand, possessiveness that borders on obsession, and an active—and sometimes disturbing—group chat.
Read an excerpt:
“No, no, wait.” The guy sounded almost frantic. “Please, don’t hang up. He told me to call when I got here, but I made better time than I thought I would, and I’m early.” A bad feeling crept over Tomas. “What do you mean when you got here?” “I’m at the gate right now.” He mouthed a curse and pushed to his feet. His lower back was killing him, and he was really looking forward to going home and using his inversion table, not dealing with whatever mess Ollie had dragged onto his doorstep. “He’s probably at the party right now. I can let him know you’re trying to get ahold of him if you want to turn back around and go wait at the bar.” There was a sniffle, and Tomas ran a hand down his face as his heart clenched. God, he was such a fucking softie. “Or you can come in and wait in my office while I track him down,” he added on an exhale. “I would really appreciate that,” the voice said wetly. “I promise I won’t be any trouble.” “Don’t worry about it,” Tomas said for some reason, the urge to comfort the upset boy overwhelming him. “Let the guy at the gate know I said you could come in.” “Um. There isn’t a man. I’ve been sitting here trying to get ahold of Ollie for fifteen minutes.” Fucking useless prospects. “Of course. I’ll come out and get you.” “Are you sure? I don’t mean to drag you away from the party.” He held back a sigh. “I’m sure. Just hang tight.” “Okay.” It was said so softly he almost didn’t catch it. He started to hang up and then paused and brought the phone receiver back to his ear. “Has Ollie told you about the kind of parties we’ve been hosting at the clubhouse?” There was a soft, barely there laugh. “Yeah. He told me and Vinnie all about the parties.” Me and Vinnie. Realization struck Tomas. He knew who this was. Ollie talked about his two best friends all the time. They were supposed to be down south somewhere—Ollie was never completely clear on where they were—while Vinnie worked a temporary job at a hospital or something. “Okay, I’ll be right out.” “Thank you,” Mason said quietly. Tomas hung up the phone and stretched his neck, grimacing at the loud pops it elicited. He grabbed his hoodie from where he’d tossed it on the end of the couch earlier, tugging it on and then putting his cut on over it. The middle of January in Michigan could be bitterly cold, but just running out to open the gate, he wouldn’t need a jacket or hat—though he could hear his sister’s voice in his head admonishing him. Considering he was sliding toward fifty at a rapid pace, he figured he was old enough to go out in a sweatshirt if he wanted to. Though he probably wouldn’t tell Jill that. No point in risking her calling their mom. As soon as he opened the door to his office, he was smacked in the face with loud music. It had seemed like the door hadn’t been blocking much of the noise, but apparently, he’d been wrong. Some obnoxious techno-sounding pop song was blaring from the clubhouse’s sound system, which let him know Ollie had taken over the controls at some point. He grimaced and made his way carefully around the groups of people, lifting a hand or nodding at anyone who caught his eye or called out a greeting. Most people were too preoccupied with what was happening in the different staged areas they set up before each party. If someone had asked him a couple of years ago if his club would one day be hosting regular BDSM parties in their clubhouse so that his members had the opportunity to meet the types of boys and girls they were interested in, he would have laughed in their face. And yet… Somehow, his Vice President—and best friend—Demarcus had talked him into it, claiming it would be fun and good for the members to have a safe space to explore things they were interested in. And that did seem to be true. Several of the members had ended up in relationships with people they had met through the parties. Maybe Tomas was just bitter because he wasn’t one of them.
Coming Soon
Marv
Viper
Knuckles
