CHEAP SMUT: Four Erotic Romance Novels (Boxed Set)

by Scott Hildreth

  Barely an inch or so shorter than me, and covered in tattoos to one wrist and to his elbow on the other arm, the man had a certain presence to him that supported his I don’t take shit from anyone posture. As he stood stone-faced and shook my hand, I studied his cut.

  President.

  “He’s the president of the Wichita chapter of the MC we rode down to Texas about. And this fella here could give Biscuit a run for his money on telling stories. Teddy, this is Otis,” Axton said as he tilted his head toward a barrel-chested monster of a man with a full beard and black curly hair.

  “Pleasure to meet ya,” Teddy said as he extended his hand.

  His hand engulfed mine as he shook my hand in his. I glanced down, shocked at the size of his hands. As he released my grip, I made note of his sausage-sized fingers and huge hands. My guess, based on the condition of his knuckles, was that he was the club brawler.

  “Likewise,” I said.

  “We was just talkin’ about that fuckin’ A-Train gettin’ your Sergeant-at-Arms shot. Gotta keep your eye on that God damned A-Train, he’s a hot-head,” Teddy said with a laugh.

  “Seemed like a pretty solid fella,” I responded.

  “Oh he’s solid as fourteen motherfuckers, but he’s a hot-head. We had to ship his ass down to Texas just to keep him from killin’ everybody that pissed him off. I’m just glad ol’ Toad here ain’t pushin’ up daisies,” he said as he wrapped his arm around Toad’s shoulder.

  “Toad’s a tough fucker, and a little of a hot-head himself,” I said as I slapped Toad’s bicep with the back of my hand.

  “Fuckin’ Marines,” Teddy said.

  “So, are the fellas from Texas going to make it?” I asked.

  Doc shook his head from side-to-side. “The entire state was flooded a week ago from all of the rain they got. Hell, Obama declared it a Federal emergency. Our Texas chapter assembled and is doing work for charity. The boxer’s donating a bunch of money and all of their time to help clean up the mess, so they won’t be here.”

  I pressed my hands into my hips and sighed, remembering the news segment on the flooding. “Yeah, I heard about that. Fucking highways were under water.”

  “Well, I hate to break up this little party, but we’ve got to get this kid patched in. It’ll just take fifteen minutes or so, then we’ll all get back together and solve the world’s problems. Sound good?” Axton asked.

  “Nice seein’ ya again, Slice,” Teddy said.

  “Slice,” Doc said with a nod.

  Axton shook Doc’s hand and turned around to face me.

  “You straight,” Axton asked.

  I nodded my head. “Just worried about the club.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Anything serious?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing you aren’t aware of.”

  I knew Axton had very little use for Cash. Although the bylaws required a vote by all members in the club to allow Cash to be patched in, I’d never seen anyone denied their patch after prospecting, and I didn’t suspect Cash would be any different in Axton’s eyes than any of the other half-assed members we’d allowed into the club in the past, Gunner included.

  “Well, let me get this microphone and make an announcement,” Axton said.

  I raised my hands to my temples and nodded my head as I began to rub my fingers against the sides of my head. Axton walked to where the speakers were positioned behind the house. Between the speakers, an amplifier, stereo equipment, and a microphone sat on top of a table. As I made eye contact with Sam, I tossed my head toward Axton and raised my right index finger to my lips.

  She nodded her head in acknowledgement.

  “Listen up!” Axton’s voice blared over the sound system.

  “I need complete silence, people,” he said as he raised his free hand in the air.

  After a half-minute wait, the sound from the large crowd was down to a dull roar.

  “I appreciate everyone coming to celebrate a prospect being patched into our club,” Axton said into the microphone.

  “Cash had been a hang around with the club for about six months before becoming a prospect, and although it’s been a rough twelve months for all of us, his year of prospecting is finally over…”

  Miscellaneous whoops and shouts came from the crowd as Axton paused.

  “So we’re here to witness this event, and watch him ride a moped around the fucking yard while he wears a shock collar around his skinny little neck,” Axton said as he raised the remote control for the shock collar into the air.

  Again, Axton paused, allowing several shouts from the crowd to be heard by everyone.

  “So, without further ado, we’ll get back to it. Todd Parker, known by the club as Cash, has fulfilled his requirement of prospecting for twelve months. All patched in Selected Sinners in favor of his advancement into the club and acceptance as a fully patched member respond in the form of aye,” Axton said into the microphone.

  The crowd erupted into a universal “Aye.”

  Axton nodded his head.

  “Requires a one hundred percent vote to be a Sinner, any opposed respond in the form of nay,” he shouted.

  I glanced around the crowd.

  Silence.

  As Axton lifted the microphone to his mouth, I fixed my eyes on Sam, sighed, and raised my hand.

  “Nay,” the word barely escaped my mouth.

  “Well, it appears…” Axton began, clearly not having heard me.

  “Nay!” I shouted.

  Axton lowered the microphone and shifted his eyes to meet mine.

  “Do I have one opposed?” Axton asked as he scanned the crowd.

  I nodded my head. “Yes you do. My vote is nay.”

  Cash, standing twenty or so feet from me with his arms folded in front of his chest, dropped his hands to his sides as his eyes widened.

  “Is this a joke?” he hollered.

  I shook my head.

  “Are you fucking kidding?” he shouted.

  I glanced at Sam, shifted my eyes toward Cash, and shook my head again.

  As he walked in my direction, he began to express his displeasure of my vote.

  “I’ve been living in hell for twelve fucking months for this. I washed bikes. I got cigarettes. I cleaned the shop. I got in fucking fights with people I don’t even know for no reason other than a patch told me to. This is fucking bullshit, and I say your vote doesn’t count, Otis. I’ve…”

  I shifted my feet to the side slightly and widened my stance. As he continued to approach me, I raised my hands in front of my chest and clenched my fists.

  “You see, that’s the problem. You have no respect, no tact, and no regard for authority or anyone who’s your senior. Keep walking this direction all puffed up like that and I’ll knock your little ass out,” I growled.

  He slowed his walk, but continued to advance in my direction slowly.

  “I’m not fucking around, little man,” I said through my teeth.

  As he continued to walk in my direction, Axton dropped the microphone and began to walk toward us, more than likely to intercept him before he got hurt.

  With Toad and Biscuit standing slightly behind me telling me to take it easy, Cash continued to nonchalantly walk closer and closer, his chest thrust forward and his shoulders rolled back as if he was prepared to fight.

  “You’re a cocksucking prick,” he said as he stepped almost close enough for me to punch.

  “Don’t take another step, Cash,” I seethed.

  “And...” he said as he took the last step separating us.

  I swiveled my hips and swung a right uppercut into his jaw. No differently than I would have guessed, the punch lifted him from his feet and sent him into a pile of motionless flesh a few feet behind where he was standing. As he was now clearly unconscious and in no need of more, I took a step back and sighed as I rubbed my knuckles.

  “Didn’t see that coming,” Axton said.

  “Neither did he,” I responded.

  “No, the v
ote in opposition; good looking out,” he said through his teeth as he lifted Cash’s shoulders from the ground.

  Sam, now standing behind Axton as he raised Cash to his feet, stood with wide eyes and a worried face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Guess the party’s over,” I said.

  Although I felt my vote against Cash’s acceptance into the club was in my - and the Sinners - best interest, it didn’t make me feel any better. Having Cash disrespect me afterward by calling me a cocksucker wasn’t totally unexpected, but I didn’t anticipate it either. Now feeling like I’d ruined a long awaited party, I stared down at the toes of my boots and wondered what the remainder of the night would bring.

  I watched as Axton helped Cash into the back door of the house, followed by Cash’s wife. After they disappeared into the house, Axton emerged and walked our direction. As soon as it was clear he was coming to where we stood, I fixed my eyes on Sam and tilted my head to the side.

  “Go back over with Syd and Avery for a bit, Sam. I’ll come over there here in a few, okay?” I said.

  Sam was no stranger to seeing me fight. In her presence over the years we were together, she had seen me in no less than a dozen fights, maybe more. Without so much as an ounce of argument, she slowly turned around and walked away.

  “God damn, Otis. So was that why you were late? Pondering your decision?” Axton asked as he stepped in front of us.

  “No, just wasn’t looking forward to saying it, I guess. Hell, I knew all along – or at least for the last few months anyway – that I didn’t like his arrogance and attitude, but the deal with Gunner sealed it for me,” I said. “We don’t need anybody in this club that isn’t a hundred percent.”

  Axton pursed his lips and studied me for a moment. “Agreed,” he breathed.

  “Otis, help!” a voice screamed from my left.

  I spun toward the voice. Cash’s wife Karen stood on the back porch waving her arms and blubbering.

  “Help, he’s…” she shouted as she pointed toward the door.

  I began swiftly walking toward the house as Axton, Toad and Biscuit followed. Upon reaching Karen, her blubbering, crying and waving her arms did little to let us know what was going on. After pulling the door open and pointing inside, she covered her face with her hands.

  After an audible sigh, she pulled her hands away from her face and exposed her quivering lip.

  “In…the…kitchen,” she sobbed. “He’s got…a…gun.”

  I glanced at Axton, uncertain of whether or not to proceed. As Axton took a deep breath, Toad shoved me to the side, pushed his way past Axton, and stepped into the house. As he quickly disappeared to my left, I yanked the door to the side and ran inside the house.

  “God damn it Toad, no!” I shouted, knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to try and take the weapon from Cash.

  Toad couldn’t stand to be shot again, and although I was sure he knew it, his pride and eagerness to resolve problems wouldn’t prevent him from exposing himself to harm. As I followed immediately behind Toad, Axton and Biscuit were right behind me.

  As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, Toad stopped in his tracks and held his hand to his side, instructing me to stop.

  Cash stood in the center of the kitchen, holding a pistol in his hand, and pointing it at his temple.

  “Ain’t got nothing to say to you, Toad. I want to talk to Otis,” Cash said in a surprisingly calm voice.

  “Put the gun down, Cash,” Axton said as he stepped beside me.

  Cash chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry Slice. Don’t want to talk to you, either.”

  “Why?” he said as he turned my direction.

  I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing exactly what to say, considering all things.

  “You had to have a reason,” he said.

  I nodded my head and swallowed the lump that was quickly rising in my throat.

  Still holding the pistol to his temple, he widened his eyes. “What was it?”

  “You weren’t ready. Put the gun down and we’ll discuss it,” I said as I raised both my hand into the air, hoping to comfort him that I wasn’t trying to be a threat.

  He shook his head. “Not ready? The year just wasn’t enough for you, huh?”

  “That’s not it. Hell, Cash, this is just proof. Hell, you’re in the kitchen threatening suicide. How stable does that make you?” I asked.

  “Cash please,” his wife wept.

  His eyes widened as he tilted his head slightly to the side and fixed his gaze on me.

  “Not very,” he said.

  The repercussion from the weapon firing exploded into the room. The deafening sound, dulled slightly from the bodies surrounding him, pushed painfully into my ears. As the acrid taste of cordite filled the air, Karen screamed, and Cash fell to the floor.

  “Oh my God, no! Call an ambulance,” she screamed.

  I clenched my jaw muscles and turned my head toward the doorway behind me.

  No need for an ambulance.

  He was dead before he hit the floor.

  SAM

  Cash’s suicide at the party had hit me pretty hard. The local police interviewing Otis, Axton, and the rest of the people who were in the house made me feel extremely uneasy. Although I hadn’t second guessed my decision to be in a relationship with Otis, two suicides, a random shooting, and a bank robbery over the course of six months caused me to wonder just what the future might bring.

  Otis didn’t seem to be too troubled by the suicide. I realized we all deal with death and loss in a different manner, but he seemed to be more concerned with the welfare of Cash’s wife than the fact Cash had committed suicide.

  He went on to explain how he felt no guilt whatsoever regarding the death, and that Cash shooting himself was further proof that his decision to oppose Cash’s acceptance into to club was warranted. Cash’s inability to handle the day-to-day pressures of being in the club, Otis made clear, was proven by committing suicide.

  I didn’t necessarily disagree with anything he had said. It didn’t, however, make the entire thing any more acceptable to me as being just another day in the life of a Sinner’s Ol’ Lady. I stared into the back yard wishing for a normal life and far less drama.

  Two cups of coffee into my morning and I felt half sick. I pushed my cup to the center of the table and held my hand a few inches over the top of the table and attempted to steady it. As I watched it shaking no differently than if I was a recovering crack addict, I wondered if something might be wrong with me, or if my nerves were continuing to get the best of me.

  My otherwise drama free life of the last fourteen years had been filled with the death of my mother, a suicide, and my knowledge of the other than legitimate activities of an outlaw motorcycle club. On the upside, I guessed, I had reunited with the man I so dearly loved, enjoyed time with his parent’s, and made friends with two women who I suspected would be friends for life. Hesitant to naturally accept the events of the last month as being part of my preferred way of living life, I found it much easier accepting them as being an extension of Otis’ life, and therefore a part of my life with him.

  As I sat there feeling significantly more satisfied about it than I had felt earlier in the morning, I stared at the cup of coffee, almost repulsed by the smell of it. After deciding I was on the verge of worrying myself sick again, I decided to dump the remaining coffee in the sink and make something to eat. The aroma of the warm coffee as I dumped it into the sink caused me to gag, and within a moment’s time I was running to the bathroom.

  I dropped to the knees, vomiting into the toilet and onto the floor as I attempted to position myself over the stool. Feeling as if something was undoubtedly wrong with my digestive system or my nerves, I proceeded to vomit the two cups of morning coffee I had just finished drinking. After being convinced I was done with the spectacle, I stood from the floor and cleaned my face in the sink. As I brushed my teeth, Taylor announced her concerns.

  “Meow.”

  Still brush
ing my teeth, I turned to face her and shrugged my shoulders.

  “Meow.”

  I rinsed my mouth and turned around.

  “I know. I’ve got to get a handle on these nerves.”

  “Meow.”

  I stared blankly at her, still feeling queasy. As I studied her, my mind filled with many thoughts not all of which were on my list of preferred reasons for my recent bouts of sickness. I extended my shaking hand, thought of what day I had arrived in Kansas, and began to count weeks, days, and events on my fingers.

  After counting and recounting, I bit my quivering lip and walked to the kitchen. After opening my purse and staring into it for a long moment, my head began to spin again.

  This can’t be.

  I recounted the days on my fingers and stared down at the floor.

  “Meow.”

  “Shhh, I’m thinking.”

  There’s no way.

  “Meow.”

  I clutched my purse in my hand and stumbled blindly toward the door. If my math was correct, I’d need to do something quickly and without anyone knowing about it.

  Having Otis in my life was the best thing to ever happen to me.

  And I wasn’t about to chance losing him.

  Not again.

  OTIS

  Axton looked up from his ledger and closed the cover. I had sat quietly as he finished reciting his account of the patch in party into the book. A creature of habit, and a methodical one at that, Axton kept track of all of the major highlights of his life as a Sinner, and did so in writing for future reference. More than ten years of activities, stories, events, and strange happenings were explained in detail in the many leather bound books, but only in a manner that made sense to Axton. Some might call him paranoid, others would describe him as cautious, and a select few believed he was nothing short of a genius.

  Me?

  He was just Axton, the president of the club.

  “Kind of nice having Sam around again,” he said as he slid the book to his side.

  “Real nice,” I responded.

  “So, Avery says she’s moving back?” he asked as he stood.