4 Horsemen (Sons of San Merced Erotic Motorcycle Club Biker Romance)

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Horsemen MC

(Sons of San Merced)


By Ava Bonde

Copyright 2013 Ava Bonde

All Rights Reserved



If you enjoyed this story, be sure to catch Ava Bonde’s other hot and heavy erotic romance books, including a brand new 4 Horsemen Novella!


View ALL of Ava Bonde’s sexy catalog RIGHT HERE!







I heard the sounds before I saw them. The room shook with vibrations and the roar of angry engines, bringing about a quick end to my slumber. Crawling out of bed, I peered out my window curious to see what was happening. Circling in the normally quiet cul-de-sac were at least a dozen big deafening motorcycles. My eyes glanced from one to another, but ultimately fell on the bike at the center of the ruckus, a particularly big, custom, and chrome covered ride with an equally impressive man astride it. Behind him, arms wrapped around tightly, I watched the leggy and attractive blond slide off the seat.

My mother, Jenna.

I was born when she was just sixteen, the product of yet another of her awful and abusive relationships. My father was a car thief, and when his line of work landed him in prison, she moved right on to the next bad guy. I grew up watching the never ending stream of awful men. Drug dealers, a scary Italian with lots of scary friends, a tattoo artist, and now this. Trust good old mom to get involved with a bunch of bikers. She’d done it once before. A huge biker named Mick had taught me to ride his hog at the delicate age of sixteen… This was no big surprise.

The big man on the bike stepped off as well, grabbing my mom up viciously, pulling her hair back as he planted an obscene kiss. The men circling hooted and hollered as he groped my mother mercilessly, and it was clear she was just putty in his big dirty hands. He let her go, throwing her to the asphalt before mounting his metal steed, riding it straight through the circling crowd without any hesitation. The group broke off their little single ring circus, disappearing into the night.

Mom stood up slowly, clearly drunk. Her hair was a mess, her blouse was torn in a way that didn’t seem unintentional, and the micro miniskirt she was wearing rode up high enough to see she wasn’t wearing any underwear as she stumbled up to our little two bedroom bungalow in a tall pair of red heels. Embarrassingly, neighbors were peeking out of their own doors and windows watching the whole thing…

I ran to the door, unlocking things as she slumped against the outer security screen, finally letting her spill into the entryway. Mom wasn’t being very modest, staring up and giving me a little smile of thanks from the tile floor.

“What the hell was that Mom?” I asked, a little bit of anger welling up to hide the embarrassment. Mom looked away demurely. It was easy to see what men saw in her. She was 35 now, but barely looked old enough to drink. Her skin was flawless, her eyes beautiful, her body carved straight out of marble. Long legs, curved hips, ample breasts… I should know, I inherited all of those features and I spent almost every day at college wishing guys would stop hitting on me so I could get some school work done.

“That… Was the San Merced Motorcycle Club,” mom said, letting out a little happy sigh. “I spent all night with them baby, and it was soooooooo fun!”

“You’re drunk, mom.”

“YUP!” she replied, laughing.

“Who was that guy?”

“Oh… You saw him?” mom asked, aloof.

“Mom, the whole neighborhood saw him. He practically ripped our clothes off right in the street!”

“Ooh… I would have liked that…”

“What, are you two dating now?”

“Him? Oh god no! Not him!” mom said laughing a bit too hard.

“Well why was he all over you then?” I asked, instantly regretting the question.

“I’ve got to fuck him!”

“MOM,” I shouted, my face flushing red.

“Grow up Penny. You’re 18, stop acting like a baby girl.”

She treated me more like a college roommate than a mother. As far as she was concerned, we were just Jenna and Penny, best friends forever. I never got used to mom telling me all about her sexual conquests, and I did NOT want to hear about this one. She clearly had more to say but her speech was slurring just a little bit too much to understand clearly. I lifted her up as best I could and dragged her stumbling body to the room. She fell into bed, snoring almost before she hit the pillow. This was certainly a night she’d regret in the morning. I went into the bathroom and grabbed a couple tylenol, tossing them into the nightstand with a cup of water. She’d appreciate the gesture.

Then I saw it.

Her skirt was riding a bit too high, her inner thigh exposed. The creamy skin interrupted by something far darker. A tattoo… I leaned in closer, staring in the dim lit room. It was a simple mark, just a rectangle box around boldly written words.


I gasped. She’d been tagged! Judging from the puffy redness around the mark it must have been a recent acquisition. She was owned. She was property…

“What in the hell did you do?” I whispered, but mom didn’t respond. She just kept right on snoring.

I slinked back up to my room, unsure how to handle this. In the morning we would talk, I could tell her this was a bad idea, I could fix this… It was no secret that the SMMC was involved in bad things. Half the college was getting their drug hookup from the MC, and there were rumors they were involved in everything from gun running to the armed car robbery that happened last year.

It was obvious what I had to do, but as I lay back down in my own bed, an image was stuck solidly in my mind. The big man in the street, grabbing, groping, kissing… It was a replay of the show in the cul-de-sac with only one small difference. I was the one the man was holding in his big hands. A tingle rose up between my thighs.

“What am I doing?” I whispered to myself, fingers pushing my wet little cotton panties out of the way. Electricity coursed through my body as I slid my fingertip between the soft folds, then back up to my sensitive nub. My eyes closed, indulging the little fantasy playing out in my mind. The big man forced himself on me, pressing me down right in the street as my finger circled my clit.

“You want to know what it’s like, don’t you?”

The voice startled me, its low growl filling my ears with fear and desire. My eyes flashed open, glancing around the empty room. I closed my eyes again, feeling his breath on my neck, shocks of pleasure rising up as his hand cupped my delicate mound roughly. His middle finger curled inward, penetrating me. I pressed my own finger in, squeezing around it as I explored my own tightness.

“Please…” I whispered to the empty room.

“Don’t beg unless I make you beg.”

I whimpered under his command, letting my fingers drive me closer and closer to the orgasm I needed so badly. It had been over a year since I’d had a boyfriend of my own, and even then, calling that boy a man would have been a stretch. This was different. The man in my fantasy was strong, cruel, and his sexuality was undeniable.

“Are you ready?” he whispered, my body tense and so close to orgasm.

“Yes…” I whispered back to the emptiness.

His mouth trailed down, planting kisses on my body. I could almost feel them.

“Cum for me baby,” he said, his tongue finally coming into contact with my clitoris, rolling to the tune of my fingertip in my minds eye.

I crashed over, my hips flexing and back arching from the bed as I cried out in pleasure. All thought of being quiet or discrete went straight out the window as I rode my fingertips and my fantasy straight into the sky.




“I feel like I was hit by a truck.”

Mom was a mess. I tried to hold my laughter as she stumbled out of her room well past noon. She’d showered and was wearing a bathrobe, but she still looked dirty. That’s something you can’t just wash off. Maybe, deep down, I was a little jealous. Not that I was going to tell her that.

“Those guys are trouble mom.”

“The best kind of trouble.”

No stopping it, once the bad boy worship started, my mother would see it through to the bitter end. It wouldn’t be all bad though… Some twisted part of me looked forward to seeing her big biker again.

“I don’t think you should see them anymore,” I said, unconvincingly.

“Well that’s too bad, because I invited one over tonight.”

“Mom, you have to work tomorrow.”

“Like that’s going to stop me baby.”

I just shook my head. Mom was on a path of self destruction. I’d be out of this house in just another year or two, max. There was nothing to do but suck it up and let it happen.

“Oh don’t be such a prude. At least one of us knows how to get a man. Maybe you should pay attention.”

“That’s enough, mom.”

I fumed inside, but she wasn’t going to put me off. I went right on working on an essay for my economics class. If I wanted a man I could get one. I’d seen the looks guys gave me around campus. Just because I was saving myself for something a little better…

Except, I wasn’t. Truth be told the boys around college just weren’t all that attractive. Call me a product of a broken home, but I always took more interest in a more dangerous breed. I was too smart to fall for it though. The tattoos and the big scary muscles, the devil-may-cry attitude. I’d lusted after it. My smarts kept me from doing something stupid, but a whole other part of me disagreed with that decision. Maybe I could let my hair down every once in awhile, step outside my comfort zone. Meet someone like…

Like the biker from last night.

The thought shocked me. Memories of bringing myself to orgasm thinking about that big scary man washed across my mind as I chewed on my mechanical pencil. He was off limits though. That was mom’s newest conquest, and he was coming over.


I shook the crazy thoughts out of my head, gathering up my things to get to class. Maybe I could lose myself in my books. Maybe I could forget all about the man and his motorcycle.

Maybe not.

The school day flew by at a pace even I was uncomfortable with. Economics and accounting both blew right on by, and I hardly heard a word the nerdy old professor was saying. I had other things on my mind as I kept right on chewing on that mechanical pencil. By the end of the afternoon, it was totally ruined.

“Penny, would you care to give us an example of a deflationary event.”

I shook my head, staring in a foggy stupor.

“Excuse me?”

“Is anyone who is paying attention willing to answer my question?”

I turned red, sitting there with the pencil sticking out of my lips, my teeth grinding at the plastic. The class laughed. I had to get out of here. It was already getting dark as I excused myself to get some air, feigning illness with the professor. Two more evening classes were ahead of me, I wasn’t supposed to get home until almost 10:00… Slipping behind the wheel of my car I felt a naughty little streak rising up inside. Maybe he would be there when I got home…

My little car raced as I drove. I couldn’t really explain why I felt the need to get there so quickly, but there was just a hint of fascination I had to satisfy. The motorcycle in the driveway confirmed his presence. Parking on the roadside I crept up, eyeballing the big bike. It was black and chrome, no fancy paintings or tassels, this bike was all business. The engine didn’t look normal, almost every piece on it looked like it was replaced with something shinier. The seat was wide up front, but toward the back it narrowed and had a surprising arch to it. I wondered about it briefly, before realizing the intended purpose. That was where I would ride, and that hard little arch would sit right between my legs, just above the big vibrating engine.

Shuddering, I pulled myself away from the motorcycle and crept toward the house. If mom was still up I could just tell her I didn’t feel well and came home early. Sneaking in the door, I could smell the scent of leather. His vest hung from a hook in the entryway. I stared at the back, a large snake encircling a skull, surrounded by just a few words. “Four Horsemen, San Marco California”. Above it all, a single word. Conquest. Tugging at the vest, a small rectangle badge on the front came into view, proclaiming his role.


Mom hadn’t just gotten herself involved with any old bad man, she’d went right for the baddest of them all. There was nothing to do but stare in shock, imagining the consequences this would bring on our family. My hands were shaking as I let my fingertips trace over the little sewn on patch. Just to the left, was a small symbol pressed into the leather. I stared at it quizzically, lifting the vest up to inspect it closer.

“One percent.”

The voice startled me. It was strong and sensual, almost like an embrace. I spun at once, staring at the man from last night, the man who had captivated my thoughts.

“You know what it means, don’t you?” he asked, stepping closer. I inhaled sharply, taking in the faint scent of whiskey and leather and oil. A familiar tingle ran up my spine. Excitement…

“No,” I whispered demurely, trying to turn away from his piercing gaze. The deep pools of blue drew tried to draw me back in as he smiled, his wide jaw softening ever so slightly as the cheeks creased.

“People used to say 99 percent of all bikers are upright law abiding citizens.”

I winced as his hand wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me back to face him again. My whole world was lost in blue.

“I’m the one percent.”

I whimpered lightly as his other hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me close. My whole body trembled against him. He was hard chiseled with muscle rippling beneath cloth. My breasts pressed into him, my mouth angling upward in a fearful pout.

“What’s your name, baby girl?”

“Penny…” I whispered.

“Do you know what the penalty is for a woman touching a rider’s colors without his permission, Penny?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. At once his hands pressing me downward, forcing me onto my knees. I knew it was wrong, but between my thighs I was buzzing, wet with anticipation. He groaned as I ran my fingertips along his faded jeans, brushing across the long growing lump straining beneath the denim.

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