by Addison Jane
Irrevocable
The Exiled Eight MC: Book One
Addison Jane
Copyright 2018 Addison Jane
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Formatting by Swish Design & Editing
Proofing by Swish Design & Editing
Cover Design by Marisa at Cover Me Darling
Cover Model by Vince Alexander
Cover Photography by Reggie Deanching from RplusMphotos
Cover Image Copyright 2018
All rights reserved
This one goes out to Sonya Van Horne.
Your support is something that means more to me than you could even imagine.
I love your beautiful face, and I hope you never forget that.
Kim, for always keeping me grounded and sane! (At least as sane as we can possibly be.)
Kay for always having my back when I need to change things at the last minute, and also the million times I doubt myself during the process.
Chicki for just always being there when I need to scream and talking through shit with me.
Sonya because your support is endless and it always gives me the boost I need.
Reggie Deanching for always being so amazing and supportive, and also just being so freaking talented, and always coming up with photos that I can’t ever turn down.
Marisa at Cover Me Darling. This was the first time we worked together, and I loved it!
My parents because they are kind of awesome.
My betas! Kaci, Kim, Sonya, Chicki, because damn this story can be a right mess, lol.
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Epilogue
Connect With Me Online
About The Author
DAKOTA
I was desperate to use the bathroom. To the point where I almost considered walking out the back of the outlaw motorcycle club where I was currently located, and just popping a squat on their lawn.
There was a huge part of me that knew they wouldn’t appreciate that though, so here I was, trying my best not to pee my pants as I rushed past one door after another, pressing on the handle and praying that it would—
Click!
Finally!
I pushed on the door, and it slowly swung open revealing one of the messiest bedrooms I’d ever come across. I couldn’t say I was the queen of perfection, or that I was even a princess. But holy shit, someone needed to take a moment, pick up some clothes, make the bed, and get a giant-sized wastebasket for the amount of condom wrappers that lined the edge.
I was almost tempted myself.
Except then I heard the running water, and everyone knows what running water does to you when you need to take a piss. It’s like hell on earth.
Looking over, I saw a cracked door. Everything inside was white, and I knew it was a bathroom. The water sounded like it was coming from a shower, but I didn’t care, I inhaled deeply and rushed toward the doorway. It flung open with a hard thud against the wall behind, and while I’d already planned some ‘I’m so sorry’ speech to whoever was inside, instead, I froze.
My mouth hung open, and I imagined hitting the floor like a bad cartoon.
“What the fuck?” he growled, his eyes dark and gloomy, threatening to release a raging storm around me. But it was hard to be scared when all I could see was this sexy, god-like man, with his long, thick cock in his hand. A cock that instantly had my pussy clenching as I imagined just how good it would feel stretching me as it pounded in and ou—
“You better have some good fucking explanation for being in here,” he demanded, his face red, and the muscles all over his body clenched, almost like I’d interrupted him just before he was about to get to the good bit.
The fact that I could wet my pants at any moment was quickly replaced by a different wetness in my pants, and I was all but ready to pull up a chair and plead with him to carry on.
“I… um…” I stumbled, something I didn’t often do. I always had a witty comeback, some kind of off-the-cuff remark in awkward situations, but this one… I was just in complete and utter shock.
I’d been cockstruck.
And I had no idea what the hell I was doing.
The storm in his eyes began to cool slightly as he realized I wasn’t just some blonde bimbo who liked to burst in on guys in the shower jerking off. He had tattoos that decorated his chest and sprinkled down over his shoulders and arms. He was broad and muscular, but had a slim waist and strong legs—the third one growing between them wasn’t counted, but it sure could have been.
Suddenly, his entire demeanor changed, and the corner of his mouth twitched. He opened the shower door, his hand tugging at his cock as he stared me down.
He looked dangerous.
Like someone I should stay the hell away from.
I should have followed those instincts.
“You just gonna stand there? Or you gonna get on your knees?”
That was the slap in the face I needed.
I almost choked on my own saliva. “Excuse me, Sir Jerks-a-lot?”
It had been a long time since I let a guy get away with treating me like he could order me around with the curl of his finger. This asshole wanted women to fall at his feet and idolize him like his cock was made of gold. And I was more of a kick-them-in-the-balls kind of bitch if they even loo
ked at me like I was beneath them.
I stood a little taller, finally finding myself. “The only reason I’m gonna get on my knees right now is if I’m praying to Jesus and asking him to remove your cock from your body and shove it straight up your ass, you arrogant bastard.”
His eyes widened at my retort, but the smirk on his face only grew. “Is that fucking right? Because what I think is going to happen, is that you’re gonna wrap that smart mouth of yours around my dick until you choke, and I come down your throat.”
My hands balled into fists at my side.
Holy crap.
I couldn’t tell if I was more angry or more horny.
“So, your dick needs a hazard warning, does it?” I threw back, taking a step forward into his space and letting him know he couldn’t intimidate me, even though he was much taller and probably a shit load more dangerous than I was.
Should have remembered I was in a motorcycle club compound.
“May choke on small par—” Before I could get the rest of my objection out of my mouth, both his hands gripped my face on either side. His mouth covered mine, stealing the shocked gasp from my lips and claiming it for himself. His fingers moved back, weaving into my hair and holding me captive so I couldn’t escape.
My body though, it didn’t want to.
My body was a whore. It pressed forward begging for more and totally betraying this whole act that I’d put together over the past few minutes.
It knew what it wanted—I knew what it wanted.
His tongue swept inside my mouth, pressing against mine, battling and showing off that arrogant dominance. One of his hands moved, tracing down the center of my body, between my breasts and over my stomach until he reached the hem of the mini dress I was wearing.
He grabbed it in his fist, tugging it up to my waist, bearing my lace panties to the world—or at least whoever might wander past the open door to the hall—before slipping his hand between my legs and drawing circles over the top of the lace, round and round, lighting my clit on fire and making it beg for more. And I took it because this was everything I wanted. Everything I fucking loved and hated all at once.
I hated that he was a fucking asshole, but at the same time, I didn’t want a little boy who didn’t know what he was doing. I wanted a damn man who knew how to take control.
I would never let a man degrade me, or make me feel worthless. But when it really came down to what lit my body on fire, I wanted unpredictable and shocking. I wanted someone who would push me, someone who drove me crazy in more ways than one.
I wanted exciting.
And this was just that.
He pulled back suddenly, one hand still fisted in my hair, his fingers stilled between my legs, holding me right where he wanted me. “You gonna get on your knees now?” he asked, sounding almost amused and staring me straight in the eyes.
I should have agreed.
I wanted it, he wanted it.
But I was stronger than he gave me credit for.
“Fuck. You.”
He chuckled softly, drawing one hand from between my legs and using the other to pull my face closer. “Maybe next time,” he whispered before taking a step back. “Now get the fuck out of my bathroom, whore.”
My whole body was flushed, my clothes slightly damp from where he’d touched me.
I yanked my skirt down over my ass and stared him directly in the eye.
Time to pull out the big guns before I let the embarrassment of my sluttiness really fill my bones. “Fine,” I announced, turning toward the door—the fact that I needed to pee, long forgotten. “I wonder how the boys downstairs will react when I tell them you’re so fucking pathetic that you can’t even get a girl up here. You’re just hanging out in the shower, jacking off on your own.”
I should have known better.
RIPLEY
One Year Later
I squinted, trying to focus on the task in front of me despite the scorching sun that was practically roasting my skin. Sweat formed at my brow and dripped down the sides of my face even though I’d already stripped off every piece of clothing I could remove without being arrested for public indecency.
Even my club colors which I would usually wear come hell or high water were hanging only a couple of feet away. A place where they were safe from harm, but where I could still see them.
I was a part of the Exiled Eight MC—not just a part, the club was in my blood. My father was the president, and his grandfather had been a founding member of the club.
My colors were a statement about who I was and my history. It made me nervous not having them on my back, but I couldn’t even begin to explain why to be completely honest. It wasn’t as though they were bulletproof. And it wasn’t like not wearing them meant I was any less a part of the club.
But they were important.
They were a part of me.
Not having them on almost felt like I was missing a body part.
It was impossible to wear my cut in this heat though, the black leather only making it slightly cooler than hell.
I rolled my shoulders, they were aching and full of tension. I’d been at the project for over four hours, and this was the second time I’d made an attempt at it. The first I’d thrown out halfway through because I was my own biggest fucking critic, and in my eyes, it looked like shit.
We were working on an old hotel close to the edge of Las Vegas city. The owners were ripping most of it out and putting in brand new apartments, but for the lobby, they wanted to keep a lot of its originality—or as close to original as possible—to give it some character and something a little more original.
That was my job.
There was a reason people paid good money to have me do their weird, wooden decorative joinery and framing. Because I was fucking good at it and I was a perfectionist. I’d been working with wood and carving shit since before I could remember, and I had the scars to prove it. There were plenty of times where I’d caught myself with the chisel or my carving knife.
It was worth it.
It helped to ease my mind and soothe the burning inside my chest which I felt was continually trying to consume me.
“Wow, that’s beautiful.”
I looked over my shoulder, finding a tall, curvy businesswoman, her eyes examining my work as she wandered around my workstation. She reached out to touch the piece of work sitting on the table, and my lip curled as her fingers ran across it.
“It’s not done,” I growled, hoping she’d hear the sharp tone in my voice and step the fuck away.
She didn’t.
Instead, she moved closer, leaning in for a better look.
“Done or not, this looks stunning,” she responded in awe, moving her eyes up to meet mine. “I’d heard the person doing this was good with their hands, but this is more than I was anticipating.”
“And you are?” I asked, standing a little taller and folding my arms across my chest.
She startled for a moment but found her composure quickly, holding up the large black folder in her hands. “Drake hired me.” Of course, he fucking did. “I’m an interior designer, and he wanted me to take a look at the size of some of the smaller apartments and draw up some design plans for the owners to use on their promotional posters.” The way her tongue flicked across her lips before pulling into a seductive smile was usually something that would instantly have my dick hard and have me dragging her into my brother’s on-site office so I could screw her over his desk.
Unfortunately for her, I knew her type instantly.
The skin-tight pencil skirt was the first tell. She was trying to play it off like she was a conservative businesswoman because it came to just below her knee, but she purposely bought it two sizes too small so men would become obsessed with wondering how it could be so tight and there be no panty lines.
Her long glittery nails were far too pointy and sharp. They sparkled in the sun like fucking weapons and looked utterly ridiculous. Let’s not mention the fact she had on
stiletto heels and earrings that hung all the way down to her shoulders.
On a fucking construction site.
There was no way in hell anyone who worked in this type of environment on a regular basis—such as an interior designer—wouldn’t know the rules about what to wear and what not to wear, so it was obvious that she’d gone out of her way to disrespect them.
It took every little bit of self-control I had in me to remember I was on a job site, that I needed to keep my mouth shut, and just ignore this thirsty bitch who wouldn’t stop looking me up and down like I was a piece of meat.
“Drake ain’t here,” I hissed out between my clenched teeth before turning back to my work, hoping she’d take the hint and move away. “His flight got delayed, and I don’t know when he’ll be in.”
Turns out, she wasn’t as fucking smart as I’d prayed she was.
A touch on my shoulder and her hand drew down my arm until it curled around my elbow. She pulled herself in closer so her body was almost pressed against my side. “I’ve got a bit of time, and I’m really interested in what you can do with your hands.”
I stared straight ahead.
I’d never considered myself a fucking saint, or one to usually turn down a woman who was all but begging me to fuck her, but I didn’t like disrespect, and I didn’t like people who went out of their way to disregard the rules we had here.
“You looking to get fucked?” I asked, turning my head toward her, noticing the way her eyes lit up at my words. Her nails pinched my skin in excitement as I turned my body to face her, leaning forward just slightly. “Let me guess. You’re looking for a ride on the wild side. Something to make you feel a little naughty. Or maybe your vanilla boyfriend and his tiny dick don’t make you come and you’re fucking sick of faking it?”
She gasped and pulled back her cheeks flushing.
But I kept coming.
“Or are you trying to piss off your daddy who I bet either gave you your job or bribed someone to because it’s obvious you don’t give a shit about rules, or laws, or getting my company in the shit by showing up here without safety gear.”