Breaking the Rules (Roaming Devils MC #1)

E
VERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2016 Lexie Davis

ISBN: 978-1-77233-979-6

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Jessica Ruth

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

BREAKING THE RULES

Roaming Devils MC, 1

Lexie Davis

Copyright © 2016

Chapter One

There were rules that men adapted to when they became part of a motorcycle club. Some clubs were as harmless as butterflies, just a place for men to get together and ride. Some clubs were wannabes, dabbling in illicit stuff or simply just using their bikes to fuck hot chicks. Others were the real deal. The true one-percenters. A group of men so tight and secretive that they had become somewhat glorified in the media. Only the club knew what truly went on. Everything else was just fantasy.

The Roaming Devils were true one-percenters and Ryker Dennison longed to be their leader.

At the age of fifteen, Ryker got the nickname “Cooch” when he lost his virginity to one of the Roaming Devils club whores. High on drugs and down to party, he fucked five women that night, earning him the title of “pussy whisperer”. The whores begged him to fuck them and he obliged. He didn’t give a shit how old they were or how old he was. Pussy was pussy and he liked it all.

His father had been part of the MC for his entire life and his grandfather years before that. It was in their blood. He wasn’t a good man. This was something he’d known from birth. He never dreamed of a different life, because life fucked everyone over no matter what path they chose. Then he met Ella.

Ryker lit a smoke and took a long drag off of it, watching as his kryptonite entered the Roaming Devils MC clubhouse. Club life wasn’t her scene. Her blonde hair was cut in a bob that fell around her shoulders and she wore blue scrubs that made her stand out in their eccentric crowd. While he couldn’t see her beautiful blue eyes from his current angle, he knew just how magnetizing they were. She was the only woman he’d ever met that had the power to make him fall to his fucking knees. He’d first met her in high school. They went to the same homeroom and she always loaned him a pencil because he never had one. She was too fucking good for his kind and he knew it. It didn’t stop him from wanting her, though.

He resisted her as much as he could. He banged chicks from afar, though he wondered what it would feel like to have her in his arms. He wanted to breathe in the scent of her skin and taste her sweetness. Most girls made him think of nothing but pussy, but Ella made him want more. He wanted to know her favorite color. He wanted to know what made her laugh. She had a fucking great laugh and he found himself doing whatever he could to hear it.

When he had turned eighteen, he’d become a full-patch member of the Roaming Devils and devoted most of his time to his club. Ryker didn’t want for anything as long as he did what he was supposed to do. While he was riding his bike and banging whores, Ella went to an Ivy league college and got her degree. She was a biology major or some bullshit and went on to apply to med school. She was so damn smart. Ryker knew she was out of his league, but he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to listen to her talk. The only conversations they had were the pencil incidents for nearly four years of high school. He didn’t talk to her and she didn’t make an effort to speak to him, either, until the biker rally came to town.

Ella had moved back home after graduating two years early from her fancy college. She came home to work in the emergency medicine residency program, which operated one of the free clinics in Atlanta. From what he could tell, she didn’t make shit and she put up with so much more than what she deserved. The free clinic was right in the center of Hartford Street, which was the notorious location for the biker rally. Ryker only went to sell his dope but when he saw another biker put his hands on Ella, his temper flared.

He rescued her from God only knew what that night and took her for a ride on his bike. That was the same night they had their first conversation.

Ryker took a drag off his cigarette, remembering the way she smelled like coconut. The memory gave him an instant hard-on. He wanted to bury his face in her neck and simply breathe her in. He wanted to touch her, to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers. She was so damn innocent and so fucking pure that he knew by touching her he would taint her. So he kept his hands to himself that night. They talked about everything. Ryker loved listening to her stories. He loved getting lost in her world.

They didn’t speak for five years after that night. Every woman Ryker fucked with did little for him. Pussy wasn’t pussy anymore. He started to crave Ella more than he craved the drugs. He got high to get her out of his mind, but the drugs only intensified her memory.

And that’s when he fucked up.

Ryker stared at his kryptonite while he smoked his cigarette. He didn’t know what the hell she was doing walking into the Roaming Devils’ house, but she sure as hell didn’t belong and wasn’t welcomed. A few of the club bitches greeted her with the snarky-assed attitude that only served to annoy him. They sucked cock for status and any new woman was a threat. His beautiful Ella glanced around briefly.

The area was full of men and women alike. Some were naked on a stripper pole, some fucking in the dark or snorting a row of coke off a whore’s ass. Ryker only saw Ella. It half pissed him off, but he kept his temper in check. He wanted to know what she wanted. Why she was there. She didn’t belong with his crowd and if she stayed long enough, he’d have problems he really didn’t want to deal with.

When she spotted him, she waved. Despite the circumstances, her smile lit up the fucking room. The two bitches that had stopped her glanced toward him, and Ryker found himself lifting a hand and waving her over. God, what the fuck was wrong with him? Wherever she went, trouble followed.

She came toward him and stopped when she reached his chair. So many women had stood in her place, half naked and gyrating in front of him. They worked hard to get his cock standing, then knelt before him to suck him off. Ella didn’t even have to try. Dressed in scrubs that did little to show her figure, she had him harder than a baseball bat by just stepping into the fucking room. He doubted that she’d suck him off, but it didn’t stop him from fantasizing.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about shooting his load down her throat.

“What are you doing here, Ella?”

She swallowed. “I wasn’t sure you remembered my name.”

How could he fucking forget? Ryker didn’t say anything as he stared at her, the smoke from his cig streaming up between them as it burned.

“Can we talk somewhere quieter?”

“No.”

He didn’t trust himself to be alone with her. Ryker had been down that road before. Nearly fucking her in her father’s home had not been one of his best decisions in life. Especially since the man was a cop and Ryker had been high, with a kilo of cocaine on him.

“I need your help.”

Yeah, he’d heard that one before. Every bitch needed something and when they didn’t know where or how to get it, they came to him.

“What can I possibly help you with?”

She licked her lips, obviously nervous. “I need some cocaine.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “You came here to buy drugs?”

She blew out a breath. “Can you get me some?”

Ryker stamped his cigarette out. Maybe they did need to talk somewhere more private. He stood without saying anything and walked toward the back. The clubhouse was an old warehouse converted to one fucking nice party room. There were guests rooms for sleeping or fucking, depending on who it was, and there was a fully stocked bar in the center of it all. He led her to one of the rooms in the back and closed the door behind them. The room was soundproof, so he didn’t worry about any of the others listening to what he was doing. They probably thought she was a new fetish of his.

“Take your clothes off.”

She blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”

He grabbed her purse. “You come in here looking to buy cocaine. I know I’m not as smart as you, but I wasn’t born yesterday either.”

He searched through her things, noting that she only had money and regular girly products. He opened the door and tossed her purse into the hallway before turning back to her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“A wire.” He leaned against the door. “Come on. I don’t have all day.”

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, then closed it again. Instead of protesting, she lifted her shirt over her head and laid it on the bed behind her. Ryker stared at her perfect tits encased in a hot-pink bra. She was nice and natural. A full C or a small D. His mouth watered at the sight as he continued to let his gaze linger along her creamy skin. Her flat stomach was just as much of a turn-on as the juncture of her thighs. A little scrap of lace covered her tantalizing pussy when she pulled her pants off. It would only take one flick of his wrist to bare her to him. He could drop to his knees and finally fucking worship her with his tongue.

“Do I need to take everything off?” she asked.

Yes.
“No.” He didn’t dare move away from the door. “Turn around.”

She turned slowly, revealing a firm ass that he ached to squeeze. He held back a groan as he gripped the doorknob, trying to remind himself what the hell he was doing.

“I’m not wearing a wire.” Ella finally stared at him. “Can you get me the drugs or not?”

Drugs. She wasn’t a user. He particularly didn’t want her to start. He’d been clean for nearly two years. It was a slippery slope once someone started spiraling down it.

“You’re not a user.”

“They’re not for me.” She glanced over at her clothing. “Can I put my clothes back on?”

“No.” The word popped out of his mouth before he’d thought better. He grabbed her clothes and squeezed them for any kind of technology that could be used against him. Her phone was in the pocket of her pants but he didn’t find anything else. He tossed them out into the hallway with her purse.

“Please tell me nobody is going to mess with my stuff.”

Nobody would touch it, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “What do you need the drugs for?”

Her gaze never wavered. “I can’t tell you.”

“Then I can’t help you.” He opened the door. “Get your shit and get out of here.”

She shook her head. “No, please.” He closed the door and waited. “My dad is in trouble.”

Ryker didn’t say anything. He didn’t even breathe. Her father was the reason he’d spent years behind bars. He couldn’t care less about that fucker being in trouble but he’d listen to her anyway. Even as fucked up as the situation was, he couldn’t tell her no. Not fully. Not how he should.

“He made a drug bust on one of the gangs in the city. They raided all their cocaine and money. When the gang retaliated, they kidnapped my dad and are demanding a ransom from me. They want their drugs back and I don’t know what to do.”

Problems were not something Ryker liked dealing with. Especially when they weren’t his. The one night he had Ella laid out beneath him, so soft and so ready to be fucked, her father nearly busted down the door on them. He arrested him for possession, and since Ryker was high, he couldn’t really deny any of it. The judge slapped a sentence on him due to the cut on his back, but he knew his father paid something to get the sentence reduced from the prosecutor. He also knew that the club wanted him behind bars to carry out business on the inside.

He shouldn’t be pissed about it, since it all worked out. He did his time and came back to land the sergeant-at-arms badge, under his father’s leadership. Maybe he was pissed that he’d had her before him that night, ready to be fucked, but his cock hadn’t gotten anywhere near the pussy he’d been gunning for. Maybe that was the real fucking issue.

“What gang?”

“Young Blood.”

Ryker folded his arms over his chest, longing to do a row. The wannabes of the East Coast gave out patches like candy on Halloween. They had numbers and played the part, but they didn’t have the balls to actually be a true one-percenter. Not the same way the Roaming Devils did.

“Please help me.” She glanced away. “I know you know them. I know you know what they are capable of. Please.”

“How much?”

“Ten kilos spares his life.” She rubbed her forehead. “I think fifteen stops the torture. I don’t know what they want to actually set him free.”

Ryker didn’t want to tell her that they had no intention of setting him free. Getting a cop that had wronged the club usually meant death. They were just using him for extortion. It didn’t matter what his offense was. You fuck with the club and you get fucked up.

He licked his lips. “Why did you come to me?”

She glanced up at him and he felt that damn pull she had over him. He didn’t know what the fuck it was, but he’d tried chasing it off with drugs and women and it never went away. The trance she created when she was around had him damn near caving at the drop of a hat.

“You’re the only one I know that can help me.”

And there it was. He was the only one she knew that used cocaine. Since he’d had a brick on him that night, she probably thought that was a lot of cocaine. She had no fucking clue.

“Let me get this straight.” Ryker stared at her breasts because he couldn’t help himself. He’d kissed those swells once. The memory of her soft skin made him ache. She smelled like coconut and tasted even sweeter. “You just want drugs. You don’t want me to save your father?”