by Ryan Michele
I peck his neck, dragging lips over damp flesh. “I think you broke me.”
“You’ll be sore tomorrow. But it’ll be okay.” He kisses my shoulder. The sweetness does funny things to my insides.
“We’re old. We’re both gonna hurt.” Pain killers will be our best friends. They always are after a night like tonight.
He laughs, light and carefree. “This is true, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I squeeze him a little tighter. “You’re a sex fiend.”
Using the shampoo pump to gather a dollop, Blimp’s giant hand then massages the soap into my curly mess of hair, careful not to get any in my face. “No, I’m a fiend for you.”
Whatever. Crazy man. “You only say that after you come inside me.”
He shrugs before rinsing the soap from my locks. “Well, yeah, I love that shit. But it’s not why I’m sayin’ it. I’m thinkin’ when I get back from this run we need to handle this old lady business.”
Huh?
Playing like I don’t know what he’s talking about, ‘cause I don’t, I keep it light. “What old lady business? You got another bitch I don’t know about?” I know he doesn’t. Blimp is forthcoming about all his exploits. If he screws a whore on Sunday, you can bet by Monday morning I’ve heard the entire play-by-play down to if she spits or swallows. Have I forgotten to mention that when he bangs other bitches he forces them to drink his spunk? Yep. That’s a thing. Fucking and dick sucking until he spills down their throat. The gentleman in him allows them to spit after he’s unloaded, but he refuses to pull out. Blimp loves painting a woman’s insides with cum—takes pride in it. I find it hot when I watch him do it with other women. Most of them can’t get enough.
Blimp kisses my shoulder a second time. “No. I’m thinkin’ we’re good together. Maybe we should… ya know.”
“No, sexy, I don’t know,” I lie, worried I’m reading into crap I shouldn’t be. “My brain is fucked out of my head. There’s nothin’ left. That’s what happens when you force me to come like that.” Which is true. Mostly.
He nips the cap of my shoulder playfully. “I like when ya squirt.”
Like it? If I’d let him do it every time, he would. He loves it. Probably too much.
“I know ya do, but it makes a huge mess. And I can’t stand for like five hours afterward.” Also, true.
“Worth it, though. You know I’ll handle the sheets and all that shit before we get some sleep.”
“I do know that.” He’s the kindest man after a wild sex session. Always has been. Even when we were in our prime, he was considerate. The older he’s gotten, the more it shows. I love that about him. It’s a huge reason why I’ve been with him all these years.
Using the wall to brace himself, Blimp lowers us to the shower floor. My legs stay wrapped around him as his stretch out. That naughty cock twitches as it cuddles up to its favorite partner. “Sweetheart, look at me for a minute.”
I do, but keep my arms draped around his neck. My droopy, sleep deprived eyes meet his equally tired ones as water drips from his beard down his front. “Yes?”
Blimp brushes the apple of my cheek with his thumb. “Let’s not lie to ourselves.”
“O-kay?” My stomach somersaults in trepidation.
Blimp’s face softens to the cuddly bear version of the man I adore. “I love you. You love me. We’ve loved each other a long damn time even if we don’t say it… Been through a lot together. Seen a lot together. Done a lot together. Yeah?”
Holy. Shit.
Tongue tied, I nod like an idiot.
“Don’t ya think it’s about time you’re my old lady and my slut? Things won’t change. I’m still gonna bang who I want. You’re still gonna do what you want. But we’re gettin’ a little too old to dance around this any longer. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Where is this coming from?
“I… I don’t know.” And I don’t. I can honestly say I’ve never considered this an option before. We do us. It works. End of story.
Blimp’s lip twitches as if he’s trying hard not to laugh at the befuddled expression written across my face. “Have I been readin’ shit wrong for years?”
Um… I guess not. “No.”
“Then there’s love here, true?” he tests.
Am I dreaming? Did I fall asleep after that last orgasm? ‘Cause we’ve never talked like this before. Not about feelings and stuff.
“Yes…I love you.” I’m apprehensive. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved. Apart from Jade, Blimp is my best friend, my lover, and the person I trust most in this world.
He drops a quick kiss to my upper lip before carrying on. I’m too shocked to do more than stare as water cascades down my spine. “And I love the hell outta you. So, I wanna put a property patch on that back.”
A property patch like Bink? Like Pixie? And Debbie and… all the Sacred Sisters? Fuck.
“Umm… Do I gotta wear a cut?” Like them.
Blimp massages those mitts up and down my biceps before gliding them up my shoulders to my throat, where he curves his fingers around it in a dominant display of ownership. “Yes. You gotta wear one.” His thumbs stroke the underside of my jaw.
I swallow against the pressure. “Then nobody will ever touch me again.”
His brows furrow. “Why?”
“’Cause men won’t touch another man’s old lady.” That’s the way of the biker world.
“They will if I say they can. Your pussy has been mine for years. Sharin’ it has never been an issue before. It won’t be an issue if we do this,” Blimp assures, and I believe him.
If things won’t change… then maybe.
“Can I think about it?”
“No.” Blimp’s forehead wrinkles in confusion, like he wasn’t expecting me to want time to consider things. Those all-seeing eyes trace my face, trying to read me before he drops the next bomb. “I already told Gunz to order a cut in your size.”
This man… this insane, beautiful man. Ugh.
“You’re joking.” I heave a sigh.
He shakes his head. “No, sweetheart, I’m not. I’m plannin’ on growin’ old with you one way or another. Might as well make the shit official.”
What was he thinking? Grow old with me? Since when? I mean… I kind of always knew we would. But not formally.
Not sure what to do with these revelations, I yank on his beard as I pretend my insides aren’t going haywire with the news. “You’re a jerk.”
That stupid lip twitches. “Yep. But I’m your jerk.”
“Fine…” I roll my eyes dramatically as I keep a tight hold on his beard for leverage. “I guess I agree to this. But the minute this goes south, and you piss me off, I’m burning that motherfucker in a bye-bye Blimp bonfire and never speaking to you again.”
A bright smile surfaces that has my heart beating extra fast. “Or… I’ll fuck you ‘til you forget why you were mad at me in the first place, just like I’ve done for the past two decades.”
Damn jerk, always knowing the right thing to say.
“Ugh. I hate you sometimes.” To show him just how much, I yank those lips close enough to skim mine. His beard tickles my chin.
“Love you, too, babe,” he whispers there before slamming our mouths together to seal our fate. And what a fate it is. With him by my side, our life will never be boring. Bring on the cut. I’m Blimp’s old lady now and a club slut forevermore.
The End.
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Breathe for It by Chelsea Camaron
Hellions Ride On
Introduction
Breathe for It
Life rarely gives us a second chance at love. These two find it in this passion-fueled ride.
Crunch
I don’t know where it all went so wrong. I was born a Hellion
. I breathe for the club life, but at every turn I put it all at risk.
I am Rhett “Crunch” Oleander.
I am still finding my way since losing the one person who meant the most.
Jennissey
Once upon a time I believed everyone had this good inside of them. Now, I see the darkness in every single person.
I am Jennissey Rose Rivera.
Family over everything, even if it kills me inside every single day.
She’s the only taste of Heaven he’s ever had. When given a second chance, he’s refusing to let go. The question is will she walk away again or hang on for the ride?
Content warning:
This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. Content involves strong language and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situations are over the age of 18. All characters are a work of fiction.
This is not meant to be an exact depiction of life in a motorcycle club, but rather a work of fiction meant to entertain.
1
Crunch
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
Immediately, she rolls to her tip toes and presses her lips to mine. The same spark that hit me the very first time I put my lips to hers rushes through me again. It’s crazy the way she makes me feel.
“Oleander,” Coach Orr says sternly, “break it up.”
Jennissey pushes away and immediately I want her lips connected to mine once again. I let out a low groan in frustration.
High school sucks.
I’m so ready to be done with this place. Life is in front of us and I’m ready to take on the world.
Taking her hand in mine, I lace our fingers together as we walk to class. Mrs. Davey gives the same soft sigh she does every day when we walk in together.
“Good morning, Rhett, Jenni, hope you’re ready to learn!”
I swear to fuck this woman thinks it’s her job to be fucking sunshine or something. Mrs. Davey is four-feet-eleven, brown hair she always wears pinned back in a bun, round rimmed glasses, and a Hufflepuff pin always attached to every dress she wears. She is a self-proclaimed super nerd and proud of her Harry Potter obsession.
Me, I’ve never read the books. Mom forced a family night where I watched one of the movies. Only one, I couldn’t stomach another. My older brother, Red, he watched all the movies with mom; but me, I dealt with the single one my dad said we had to sit through, and that was it. If my dad hadn’t forced the issue I wouldn’t have watched it then.
Truthfully, I’m not Red. He’s the golden child.
Four boys.
I guess Mom needs one of us to be the good one, and it just happens to be him.
Kenneth “Red” Oleander is the example and takes his role as first born serious. He does what they ask, when they ask, and never gets in trouble. In fact, he’s prospecting for the club now and will easily earn his rockers and final patch at twenty-one. I have no doubts in his ability to be the perfect son and stepping into his place in the brotherhood that is the Hellions MC.
I’m the second-born and considered the problem child to most. My gramps, Rhett “Danza” Perchton, believes I choose to be difficult because I have the soul of a gypsy. I don’t disagree. But I also don’t find myself to be difficult, rather I like to question authority. What gives anyone the power or the right to tell me what to do? I am a man with a mind of my own.
Sometimes small town life doesn’t work for everyone. Haywood’s Landing, North Carolina is nothing more than some sign on a road off Highway 58. There is no challenge to life here, not when you’re born a Haywood’s Landing Hellion.
Danza, he’s an original. The only one left here now. Two of the four are in plots in the local cemetery. Since Roundman passed away and Tripp took the gavel, Gramps has made it his mission to be involved with our lives—more specifically my life, rather than spend his time all up in club business. When I was little, I begged my mom and dad to leave me with Gramps and Grams. Even when my brother’s were sick or just wanted to go home, I didn’t.
Gramps and I spent hours in his garage working on his cars. When I turned fourteen, he bought me a busted up 1968 Chevy Impala SS with the original 427 motor. She’s a beast. Elvira is what he christened her name. It took three years for her to be the beauty she is today. Every inch has been worked over by Gramps and me.
The car building process has taught me so much. Mostly patience, but also if you want something, you have to work for it.
Blood, sweat, and motherfucking tears.
Gramps gets me like no one else. I’m the kind of guy that has to learn the hard way. Like my car, when shit didn’t fit, she didn’t run. I couldn’t rush the process, I couldn’t rig it, I had to do the job right the first time.
Except right now Gramps and Grams aren’t all that happy with me. My parents, well, they’re downright livid.
My brothers … depends on which one you ask as to what they think.
Red says I’ve lost my way. Which honestly I find fucking hilarious. How can I lose my way when I didn’t have a clue where I’m headed in the first damn place? Riddle me that one, joker!
Sure, Red expects me to fall in line with him. Graduate, go to college, work at the shop, and patch to the club. He thinks its simple. And for him, it is. I just don’t know if Haywood’s Landing is the place for me forever.
Pretty Boy, that’s Kellum, he’s the other middle child with me. He is angry at the world, not just me, so it’s hard to say why he’s hell bent on getting in my shit more than usual. Every time my name is called, he just gives a huff and an annoyed look my way. What does he know anyway?
Tommy Boy, he’s the baby and my best friend. He doesn’t give me shit about shit. In fact, it doesn’t matter what I do, Tommy Boy takes my back.
Isn’t that what the Hellions preach? Isn’t that the core of their brotherhood, acceptance?
I’m eighteen-years-old, I’m failing my senior year, and everyone has an opinion about what I need to do with my life.
When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to feel the weight of that leather cut hit my shoulders. Now, well, I feel like the I am fond of the idea of fitting in my family mold more than I like the reality of it.
Maybe I need to experience more in life than what Haywood’s Landing has to offer. Maybe I don’t.
I don’t have all the answers right this second, but what I do know is I got a damn good woman in Jennissey Rose Rivera and I’m not letting her go.
2
Jennissey
I hold the pen in my hand. I’m shaking.
“Jenni, this is your future. It’s waiting and it’s yours for the taking,” my recruiter says happily.
“After basic training, if my sister wants and a judge allows it, she can move with me, right?”
The recruiter nods sitting behind the large desk in their Cracker Jack Naval uniform. “We even have base legal who can guide you free of charge. The benefits are abundant.”
“Jami, will she be able to reach me if she needs to?”
To this, my recruiter shakes his head. Petty Officer Second Class Decker explains, “I told you, Rivera, during basic training you can call home during designated times. In the event of an emergency, she can have a Red Cross message relayed to you. At which point your command will guide you through the next steps.”
I blow out a breath trying to push myself to do this. Jami can make it eight weeks without me. Get through this time and I’ll make the next plan when I have more information. This is a career, not some dead-end job. This is my out. This is about our future.
Scribbling my name on the forms it’s all a blur as Petty Officer Decker tells me about my upcoming trip to Raleigh for my physical. Today is step one of the rest of my life.
Now, I have to figure out how to tell Rhett I’m leaving Haywood’s Landing.
***
“You okay?” Rhett asks as we sit in his car at our spot. With the weather being mild this spring, we have the windows down and the car turned off so
it’s a quiet night in the woods. We’re in a camping spot in the Croatan Forest, but it’s secluded.
“Yeah, babe,” I lie.
The weight of what is coming is heavy on my shoulders. I signed the papers. I leave for Raleigh in a week. When I’m there, I will officially swear in and I will be issued my orders to leave for basic training in the United States Navy. I don’t want to leave Rhett. He’s everything to me, but it’s not about me.
My little sister, Jamison Violet Rivera, is depending on me to get us both out of here and away from him. I shake my head trying to shake off the thoughts of home.
“Talk to me, Jenni.”
His voice is soft, comforting. I relax. “You think we’ll make it, Rhett?”
He gives me this smirk half-smile that somehow tells me everything is right in the world. Rhett is tall, built, and gorgeous. I’m only five feet, three inches, so it doesn’t take much to be taller than me, but he is just under six feet tall. He is built like a tank, which is funny since that’s what everyone calls his dad, who is truly built like a tank. He has this strawberry blonde hair that he wears short and spikey. With his chiseled jaw, he’s more than handsome, he’s hot!
Leaning over, he cups my chin with his thumb and first finger. “Baby, ain’t no one got a love like ours. Know we’re young and people think they know shit to tell us this won’t last, but man I am, there ain’t a woman I’ll ever love the way I love you, Jennissey Rose. One day, I’m gonna give you my ring, my last name, and my babies.”
I melt.
The world around us slips away as I lean over and press my lips to his.
My hands roam, his hands roam. I moan as my body seeks more contact. He slides over the bench seat to get closer. We continue to make-out. As the gear shift in the floorboard gets bumped, he effortlessly lifts me up and slides under me so I’m straddling him in the passenger seat.