Originals Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride Book 8) (20 page)
Read Originals Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride Book 8) Online
Authors: Chelsea Camaron
Covering myself carefully, I spread her ass cheeks and slide myself inside her slick cunt.
The little whore is more than ready.
I close my eyes and picture a dark-haired beauty with ink covering her arms and a tight cunt made just for me. I can almost hear the gravelly voice of my dream woman as she moans my name, pushing back to take me deeper, thrust after thrust.
I roll my hips as the receptionist struggles to keep herself in position.
Raising my hand, I come down on the exposed globe of her ass cheek. “Dirty fucking girl.” I spank her again. “I’m not your fucking daddy, but I’ll give you what he obviously didn’t.” I spank her again and thrust. “Head down between your legs. Watch me fuck your pussy.”
She does as instructed and watches as I continue slamming into her. Stilling, I reach down and twist her nipples as she pushes back on me.
Her moans get louder as I move, gripping her hips and pistoning in and out of her.
I slap her ass again. “I said quiet.”
I push deep, my hips hitting her ass, and she shakes as her orgasm overtakes her.
“Fuck me!” she wails.
I slam in and out, in and out, faster and faster, until I explode inside the condom.
She isn’t holding her ankles by the time I’m done. She’s still head down, bent over with her back against the wall as her hands hang limply like the rest of her body, trembling in aftershocks.
Pulling out, I toss the condom on the ground and walk away, buttoning my pants back up.
“Collector,” I hear X yell my road name from his doorway. “You ruined that one.” He is smoking a cigarette. It’s obvious he watched the show.
The noise has Judge coming to his door and giving me a nod of approval.
I look over my shoulder to see the bitch still hasn’t moved. Her pussy is out in the air, ass up, head down, and she’s still moaning. Desperate, needy, it’s not my thing.
“I need a shower,” I say, giving X a two finger salute before going into my own room. Deacon is already in bed and doesn’t move as I go straight back to the shit-ass bathroom to clean up.
I wasn’t lying. I smell like a bar, and now I smell the skank stench of easy pussy. I have needs, but I can’t help wondering what it would be like to have to work for my release just once. It’s not in my cards, though. Just like this town, this ride, and that broad, it’s on to the next for me and my brothers of the Devil’s Due MC.
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Challenged
(Vipers Creed MC#1) ©Ryan Michele 2016
Prologue
My head filled with a cloudy, dense fog that I couldn’t shake. Even with my eyes open, a filmy haze covered them, making everything blurry. Voices were muffled, as if I were under water, sinking. I thought I recognized one, but I couldn’t tell for sure.
Too hard to think.
I attempted to pull my arms up, but they were immediately halted by something. The hard, cold, heavy attachments clinked like metal. Even straining to move them, my muscles were so weak, so lethargic I couldn’t. I tried my legs, and the same thing happened.
A hard surface pressed against my back as the cool air of the room cascaded over my skin, my nipples, my stomach… Oh God, was I naked?
I opened my mouth, wanting to scream as deep panic set in. Unfortunately, nothing came out except air. Even that took more effort than I had in me.
Placing the pieces of the puzzle together, I couldn’t make heads or tails out of anything.
Heat at my side had me turning in that direction, only to see a fuzzy, black figure. I squinted then blinked, trying to get the focus to come back, but nothing. Not a damn thing.
“Hello, darlin’. Welcome to hell.”
Chapter One
Trix
A lump gathered in my throat settling like a rock, hard and brutal, sucking the wind out of me. My hand slightly twitched as I dialed the number I never in a million years thought I would call. I switched the phone to my other hand in an effort to shake out the trembling, because nervousness wasn’t an option. Trix Lamasters would not turn into some twit who couldn’t think straight over one phone call. Being a shrewd businesswoman, I’d learned from the best not to let shit get to me, how to compartmentalize things and deal.
I swallowed hard, moving the lump from my throat to settle into my gut like a boulder. As I focused, my breathing evened out. The thick steel in my spine could handle anything life threw at me, including this call. Including the man who would be on the other end of the line.
The green button stared back at me, my finger hovering over it. Then I pressed it and pulled the phone to my ear just as it started ringing.
One ring … two … three …
“What?” was barked through the phone line with a male’s voice tainted by harsh impatience.
“Can I talk to Cade? Shit.” I stopped myself. He wasn’t Cade anymore. I needed to remember that a lot had changed. “I mean, Spook. Is Spook around?”
Silence.
“Hello?” I pulled the phone away from my ear, looking at the bright screen, making sure the call hadn’t dropped. Nope, the little numbers in the corner were still counting away. I pressed it back to my ear, waiting a few beats.
“Who wants to fucking know?” His tone turned gruffer, almost as if he were a protective watch dog of Cade’s, and nothing or no one got past him.
Watch dog or not, I wasn’t about to get eaten.
“This is Trix Lamasters. I need to speak to him.”
More silence, not even a breath or noise in the background.
“Hello?”
His voice came over the line right as I intended to speak again. “Stop fucking saying hello. I’m here.”
Hell, maybe someone pissed in his Wheaties this morning, his attitude having nothing to do with me. Or maybe it was just him.
I slapped my hand to my forehead as the word
dumbass
rang in my mind.
“Sorry, I thought the call dropped.” Now I apologized to the rude man?
Get a grip, Trix.
“What do you need with Spook?” The guard dog didn’t give me an inch. Nevertheless, he didn’t need to know my business.
I needed a diversion.
“Can you just get a message to him to call me?”
“Babe, either tell me what you need, or nothing fuckin’ gets to him.” His tone turned flat and resolute.
“Fuck,” I muttered then heard him chuckle. The damn man needed a bone before he played. Asshole. “An employee of mine has been seen at your clubhouse. I need to talk to her.”
“Call her,” he quipped.
“She doesn’t have a phone,” I retorted, feeling the fire burn in my veins.
“Not my problem,” the man sneered. From his attitude, I knew he would have no problem hanging up on me right now, never telling Cade I needed to talk to him. Good thing I dealt with assholes on a regular basis.
“Look, the bitch owes me money.” Anger raced through my body. I let it be heard through each clipped word.
He let out a deep laugh that was almost intriguing if he weren’t a jerk. “You may as well kiss that cash good-bye.”
My pride had other ideas.
“Fuck no. I want what’s owed to me.” I sighed, needing a different tactic. “Look, can you just give Spook my name?” He would either call or he wouldn’t, but maybe that would get the dog to want to nose around. Maybe curiosity would get him to spread my name at least.
“This is gonna be fun. Hang on.” The man must have covered the mouthpiece with his hand, because everything he said was muffled except for him calling Spook’s name. That, I could hear clearly. My adrenaline spiked at the thought of Cade coming on the line.
“Yeah?” a voice I recognized from my dreams said into the phone. The deep, raspy tenor had grown over time and slithered down my spine all the way to my knees, giving them a slight tremble. It took only one word to make my stomach flip.
Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea, but
I wasn’t that girl anymore. He would not have power over me. I wouldn’t allow it.
I paced my small living room, needing the movement to get my knees back in line.
“Cade? It’s Trix Lamasters.”
“First, the name’s Spook. Second, who?”
That one kind of stung. Alright, more than stung. It tore another hole in my already battered heart was more like it. The asshole didn’t even remember me, but what did I expect, being one in a sea of many? There was absolutely no reason I would have stood out to him.
“We went to school together,” I tried.
Silence.
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, hoping divine intervention would give me the gift of patience or a gun. Neither came.
“Whatever. I get you don’t remember me, but you have one of my employees there. I need to talk to her. She owes me money, and I need it back.”
“Trixie Lamasters.” I could hear the devilish grin as his words snaked over the phone. Not going to lie, my pussy quivered.
No one called me Trixie anymore, because once upon a time, he did and I had loved it. After he abruptly left my life, taking the one thing I could never get back, I refused to let anyone call me by that name. Never again would I allow the hollow feeling that name represented to seep through me. Now, hearing him after fifteen years, the vault of memories opened wide, something I did not want to happen. I didn’t want to feel, yet each recollection of the past bombarded my mind.
“Long time.”
I paused mid-step as a flash of younger Cade hit me. Shaking my head clear, I continued to pace through my living room.
“Yeah, very long. Anyway, you have a woman there by the name of Nanette King. Can you hand her over to me?”
I wouldn’t let the smoothness of his voice draw me in like it had all those years ago, reducing me to a pile of teenaged mush.
Strictly business
, I told myself, because business I could handle.
“How do you know she’s here?”
“I had her followed, and it led to you.”
I guessed he didn’t like the fact that I had found her that way, judging from the muttered curses that followed. Each word made me smile. I had a payroll of people who worked for me now, and some little twit-fart would not run off with my money. That wasn’t how I operated my business.
Nanette had fallen off the radar. Cade’s club happened to be the last place she was seen; therefore, I had to call him. I may as well have strapped zip-ties around my wrists, locking them in place.
“First, if she’s at the club, there’s a reason. Second, bitches here don’t go by their real names, so I don’t know if she’s around, because I don’t know a Nanette. Third, you come to the clubhouse, and we’ll talk.”
Business was business, but my heart spiked at the thought of seeing him again.
Cade’s club, Vipers Creed MC, had been in Dyersburg for years. Even before I came into this world, their presence had been well known. This town had tales, but these days, the Vipers were mostly known for Creed’s Automotive where they made custom bikes and cars in their own little world located on the outskirts of town.
I’d hoped to avoid a meeting since I couldn’t see any point to it. I wasn’t in the mood for a high school reunion. The past needed to stay there, locked up tight.
“I’ll describe her to you. Tell me if she’s there, and I’ll send someone over to get her,” I declared, trying to veer him from this path.
Negotiations were something I excelled at. There had to be an arrangement that suited us both, one we could manage over the phone. It would be the best course of action. The less contact I had with him, the better. I could have Ike, one of the bouncers at Sirens, pick her up. Win-win all around.
He chuckled, and my body went on alert because of the slyness in it.
“Babe, you don’t get how this works. You want something from me that I have, bring your ass here, and we’ll discuss it. Tomorrow night, seven.” Silence.
This time when I looked at the screen, the number fifty-seven blinked rapidly. He’d hung up on me.
“That arrogant piece of shit!” I growled, tossing my phone to the couch where it bounced on the cushion.
I should have known he’d still be a dick. Some things never changed. Guess I was going to meet up with Cade after all.
I completely ignored the slight tremor that thought caused.
The story continues in
Challenged (Vipers Creed MC#1)
available through all major ebook retailers!
Ryan Michele Bio
Ryan Michele found her passion in making fictional characters come to life. She loves being in an imaginative world where anything is possible and has a knack for special twists readers don’t see coming.
She writes MC, Contemporary, Erotic, Paranormal, New Adult, Inspirational, and many more romances. And whether it’s bikers, wolf shifters, mafia, or beyond, Ryan spends her time making sure her heroes are strong and her heroines match them at every turn.
When she isn’t writing, Ryan is a mom and wife living in rural Illinois and reading by her pond in the warm sun.
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Table of Contents
Part One: (Past) – Out of Necessity … It Begins
