Axel (Reapers MC Book 17)

by Elizabeth Knox

  Hammer nods in understanding. “There’s not even a need to put this to a vote, Prez. I’m the only option we have, so I’ll go. I’m not tied down and I don’t have a family that needs me up here.”

  “He’s right, we can’t put this to a vote, Zane. Hammer’s the only option we have right now and you know it,” Bull speaks up, lookin’ over to Zane.

  We’re all feelin’ for Hammer right now but we don’t have any other option. He is the only person who can go down to Los Angeles, but I’ve been part of this club for years now and I know Zane’s personality. He never wants to force anyone to make decisions, but he will when he has to. I’m sure it doesn’t help he and Hammer go way back.

  “When do I have to go down?” Hammer asks.

  “I’ll let you know when I find out. I asked Breaker to give me a week to make the decision,” Zane tells him and Hammer nods.

  “Alright, just let me know when you do so I can start getting my shit ready,” Hammer tells him.

  “Of course.” Zane goes quiet for a minute then looks back to the rest of us. “That’s all I have for today, so get your asses outta here and stay out of trouble.” Zane slams the gavel down, signaling us all that we’re dismissed.

  Chapter Four

  You might call it a girls’ night. I call it therapy

  ~ Unknown

  Rosa

  It’s been a hell of a few days. Natalie’s been in the hospital and I’ve been working with Ashley, Octavia, and Shiloh to make sure the fridge is staying stocked at the club and let me be honest . . . I don’t know how in the fuck one woman makes all that food for them. It seems like the second we fill it and turn around, half of it’s gone. We’re managing, but that’s led us to a cute bar in Billings that just opened up called Cowboy’s. Everything in here is adorable and really shows the rustic charm Montana has as a whole.

  From the wheel chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, to the antlers adorning the walls, the old belt buckles, spurs, and whatever else you might think a cowboy owned at one time or another. There are booths, bigger tables, and the smaller tables that sit two or four people are made out of old barrels that liquor were held in.

  I’m standing up in my chunky wedges, wearing matte black skinny jeans and have a sheer polka dot bodysuit underneath it with an emerald green leather jacket to cover my shoulders. I often get cold in Montana, so I usually have some sort of jacket with me. My lips are painted a deep mauve color and I’ve done my hair in a half-up, half-down style. I haven’t been out in a while so I wanted to dress up for myself and cut loose with a couple of the ladies.

  Shiloh used to be a clubwhore for the Reapers MC but now she isn’t, she kinda just sticks around and helps out the club with cleaning, helping Octavia wherever’s needed and all of that. She’s talked with Octavia about doing a couple shoots for the website, but she kinda chickens out. I’m not sure why, but I have a feeling like there’s something she hasn’t told us about. Much like me, she never talks to anyone about her family life or anything like that. Then again, a lot of us choose not to speak about our family.

  Where mine’s concerned I choose to keep it private. My father’s been dead since I was seventeen and I found out because my mother was laughing hysterically in the living room. One of my father’s men, Xavier, stood in front of her in his suit and had just given her the news. I wish it was my mother who died on that fateful day, that she was the one who’d been taken from me. She never even wanted me in the first place and my father had always made it a point to be in my life. If he was ever in America on business, he’d be sure to stop in Arizona so we could have a father-daughter day, going shopping, getting good food, and overall we bonded. My mother wouldn’t even take me to Staples when I needed new mechanical pencils in high school. I had two parents, though they were complete opposites.

  Bambi, Lemon, and Mona are at the bar flirting with the guy serving them drinks. Meanwhile, Shiloh and I are standing at our table, nursing our whiskey sours. “You’re awfully quiet tonight,” I say to Shiloh. For the most part she’s one of those women who you can’t get to shut up, to the point where you, borderline want to rip your hair out because she’ll be the onset for the migraine you didn’t want to have.

  She looks up and locks eyes with me. “Yeah, sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” Her tone is low and she glances back down to the drink before taking another hefty sip.

  I heard from Ruby that Zorro told her Hammer’s being sent down to Los Angeles to be the Satan’s Raider’s regent, and I don’t think Hammer and Shiloh are a thing, but who the hell knows with the way she’s all somber and shit.

  “You okay?” I question her, genuinely concerned.

  Immediately, she nods. “Yeah, my mom’s getting on my case a bit. Turns out my step-father is running for Governor again and she wants me to go back home so I’m the perfect daughter to fit his family image.” Shiloh finishes off her drink and her eyes darken as she looks down to the ground.

  “And you don’t want to go?”

  “Gee, what gives you that idea?” Shiloh laughs, trying to lighten the mood a bit, but I can tell she’s stressing out. I mean, I probably would be too. My mother’s a raging asshole.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I have deeply rooted family issues too,” I chuckle, and she gives me a nod.

  “It does.” She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. “Sometimes I think I’m the only person on the planet who has this type of shit going on.”

  “You’re not, trust me.” I don’t ask about what’s going on or try to dig deeper and get some sort of inside details, but I don’t want the girl to feel alone. We’ve all got something that’s screwed with us and fucked us up a bit, and from the sound of it her mom’s given her a run for her money too. Maybe at a later time the two of us can be real about our family shit and talk about it. I’m sure it would be cathartic as fuck to get some of the shit my mom’s done to me off my chest. Hell, it’s why I don’t talk to the bitch anymore.

  “Thanks, I’m gonna go get a refill. You want another one?” Shiloh asks, motioning to my drink.

  “Hell yeah, we’re all here to cut loose, right?”

  Shiloh smirks and grabs my drink before walking over to the bar. Meanwhile, I glance around the bar and look at the groups of people here. Some dance, while groups of women and men are here to celebrate bachelorette and 21st birthday parties. But, as my eyes scan through the back of the bar, my eyes settle on someone that I haven’t seen in almost eight years, since that fateful day when he told me my father died.

  Xavier. Why is he here, and what does he want?

  But more than that, how did he find me?

  Chapter Five

  Appearance is for handsome, attitude is for alpha

  ~ Unknown

  Axel

  Feels so fuckin’ weird sittin’ out here in front of the clubhouse, sippin’ on a beer. It’s about fifty degrees now that the first week of March is here, and thankfully we don’t have any cold nights coming up in the weather forecast, or any crazy storms. We might get some rain, but at least it won’t be a blizzard. I for one am not a fan of getting the snow blowers out, hookin’ the plows up to the trucks, and drivin’ around cleanin’ up the place. Plus, if that wasn’t enough, we’ll all get to ride our bikes again soon. It’s been too long since I’ve been on my favorite bitch.

  I see a pair of headlights comin’ down the driveway, and the only people I know that left earlier were the ladies for their girls’ night. I keep my eyes on the vehicle and as it gets closer, I know it’s not the ladies. They left in Bambi’s SUV, not a small sedan. The car pulls up to the clubhouse and it’s put in park. A blonde woman steps out of the front and looks over at me. “If you could get her out of my fuckin’ car I’d appreciate it. She’s plastered and a pain in my damn ass. Oh, and she didn’t pay me.”

  I stand up and set my beer down on the picnic table in front of me, fish out my wallet, and grab two twenty-dollar bills. As I head up to the car, I lean across from t
he passenger side and hand the woman the cash, then open the back door. Surprisingly enough, I see Rosa with her hand over her face.

  To me, she doesn’t look drunk. Instead she seems flustered, maybe even a bit worried. But the inside of this car isn’t the brightest thing, so I extend a hand and speak lowly to her, “Rosa, c’mon, you’re home now.” She pulls her hands away from her face and looks to me, takes my hand and I help her exit the vehicle. No sooner than we shut the door the driver’s already speeding off, flying down the driveway.

  “I guess I looked drunk to her,” Rosa mutters, walking past me she heads into the clubhouse and proceeds to walk straight up to the bar area. It’s a bit past one in the morning and most of the brothers just hit the hay, while I naturally assume the Vixens are still out drinking.

  “You seem aggravated to me,” I speak up, not holding my feelings back. I had no problem following her ass in here, but not before I grabbed my beer from the top of the picnic table.

  “Frustrated, sure. Annoyed, yeah. Hell, maybe I’m pissed. I don’t know. I could be a combination of all three,” Rosa grumbles before kneeling down behind the bar, the creaking of the cabinet signals she’s getting the good stuff and she rises with a bottle of tequila. She grabs two shot glasses and pours them out, handing one off to me before she throws it back like it’s nothing.

  “Fuck, not even a chaser?” I cock a brow, never being one to see Rosa go for the hardcore drinking.

  She chuckles lightly and shakes her head while pouring another shot for herself. “What do you take me for, Axel? A pansy little bitch?” Just as she finishes her question, she throws the second shot back, and then she’s quick to refill and toss back drink after drink until I’ve counted to six. Meanwhile, I haven’t even touched the tequila she’s handed me.

  Setting my own shot glass down on the bar, I grab onto her forearm and force her to stop. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Why does something have to be going on? Can’t I be a woman who’s cutting back and enjoying herself?”

  Giving her a stern look, I call her out on her bullshit. “Sure you could, if you were smilin’ and dancin’ to music or some shit, but you’re here starin’ at the bottle like it’ll wash away all your damn problems. So, lemme ask you this shit again. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

  “You don’t want to know what’s going on in my head, Axel. Trust me. You don’t want to have a fucking idea. No one does.” Rosa shakes her head and shuts her eyes. Now I’m not a mind reader or nothin’, but I’d like to think I know when a woman’s goin’ through a tough time and this sure looks like it is.

  “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked. I’m not exactly the peach of the club, now am I?” I’m the asshole. The same way Enzo’s the asshole of the Skulls Renegade MC out in Tennessee. Well, actually, now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I’m bettin’ the asshole’s Chaos. He’s done some fucked up shit and he’s always the one I hear people bitchin’ about.

  “I haven’t told you about any of this shit, and I don’t expect to tell anyone now either. So, how about you just leave me the fuck alone about it, or you be my drinking buddy for the night? The choice is yours,” she spits out in a sassy tone. Ripping her forearm away from me she pours herself another drink and picks up my shot glass, hands it over to me and clinks her glass against mine. Taking her lead, I throw it back and set it down, then she’s filling it again, and then she’s doing it again.

  I lose count after ten shots, but my head’s getting a bit fuzzy and everythin’ else too. Slowly, it becomes obvious to me Rosa isn’t as pent up as she was when she came back to the club. Glancing up, I look at the clock on the wall and see it’s a bit past two-thirty in the mornin’. I’m not an early bird by any means, so I wanna get my ass to bed soon. At least by five. Zane’s always wakin’ up and havin’ us do shit around ten, especially with that fucker still out in the barn. I know he’s got him here as leverage, considerin’ everything that went down with the Corrupt Kings MC back in January, but fuck, they haven’t been around and we haven’t gotten any word of where they might be after the last update we had. Our friends out West, the Deathstalkers MC, said they saw Boomer, Cheyenne’s brother, who’s also the Prez of the Corrupt Kings, out talkin’ to one of the people who frequent their area. I’m pretty sure they’re keepin’ an eye out for Boomer, but I’ll have to make sure with Zane.

  Who knows what the hell we’re gonna do with his VP if he doesn’t come back for him? Boomer still has that bitch of a clubwhore, Blossom. She was tryin’ to tell Boomer some shit about us. God, I want nothin’ more than for that bitch to end up dead. She wasn’t even a good lay and the only thing she’s ever been good at is stirrin’ up trouble. Fuck, look at the position she’s put us in now.

  “You look angry, Axel,” Rosa murmurs, the way she’s speaking comes out thick, like she’s straight from Mexico. I look harshly at the woman, staring into her deep brown eyes and before I realize what’s happening, I have a hand around her throat, and watching her eyes expand. Though she’s startled for a moment, she licks her bottom lip and says something in Spanish, somethin’ I’ve never heard in my fuckin’ life, but it sounds nasty as fuck.

  I seriously doubt she knows what I’m about to do to her is nasty as fuck.

  Chapter Six

  Bite marks are love notes written on the flesh

  ~ Unknown

  Rosa

  He’s just grabbed me by the front of the throat and I can barely breathe. His hands wrap tighter around me and just as I think he’s about to snap my neck in two, he turns me around and presses his groin against my ass. His cock is hard as a rock, pressing against me through my jeans and his. He gyrates himself over my ass with one hand on my throat and another going between my thighs, “I want to fuck you so badly right now,” his words are stern, coming out in a growl like he’s a savage man, which only proceeds to make wetness pool at my center.

  “Then do it,” I hiss back while turning my neck to look into his eyes. “Fuck me like I’m a nasty slut, Axel.” I know the alcohol’s doing most of the talking right now, but I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about being with him. The thought never crossed my mind until very recently, but I’m ready to get some action. The last time I got laid, it was right before the holidays, in a bar bathroom in the middle of Billings. The guy couldn’t fuck me to save his life and I don’t have that sort of impression when it comes to Axel. He’s dominant, arrogant, and gives me the idea he knows his way around a woman’s body.

  The hand he’s skimming across my thigh goes up to the button of my jeans, pops it open, and then pulls my zipper down. Then he’s got an iron grip on the back of my jeans and yanks them down. There’s no passion in the way he moves, but then again, I’m not looking for passion. I wasn’t on a search for the man I’m supposed to be with. Instead I just want a good, nice lay. One that’ll leave my legs shaking afterward, one where I won’t have to finish the job when I’m done. I just want to feel good.

  Axel grinds his cock against my lace bodysuit and he hooks a finger under the thong portion. At the same time he moves the fabric, his cock’s sliding between my lips and my body tenses up, excited yet nervous at the way he’ll defile my body.

  He forces himself inside me in one swoop, and while he’s fucking me, he rubs a now wet finger against my asshole. “Fuck, you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to fuck you, Rosa . . . how much I’ve thought about filling your holes, making pleasure course through you at every possible moment. We might be fuckin’ plastered, but hell if I’ll ever let you forget the way I’m about to defile your body,” he grits, whispering out his words against my ear. He drags his tongue against my neck and bites down on an exposed piece of skin on the back of my shoulder.

  “Dammit!” I moan out, walls tightening around him. He doesn’t stop ramming himself inside me, so much so the sound of his balls hitting the lips of my pussy ring out around us. With each thrust he’s fucking me with his finger too, and slowly
one finger in my asshole turns to two, and then two turns to three, and suddenly an overwhelming feeling is hitting the lower half of my body. It’s like pins and needles combined with stepping on marbles. In no way am I complaining about the euphoric feeling, only wanting it to last longer.

  “Axel,” I groan, digging my nails against the edge of the bar, I hold on for dear life and know my release is imminent.

  Like a machine that’s lost power, he stops, slides his cock out of me and flips me over onto my back, before lining himself at my entrance. He grabs onto my throat again with one hand, and my hip with the other and glares into my eyes. “Beg me for it, Rosa. Beg me to make you come.”

  Agonizingly slow, he begins to slide himself back into me, rocking with as much speed as a tortoise. “Please, please make me come.”

  Deviousness strikes across his face and as his smirk grows, he begins to pound into me like never before until my essence is shooting out of me, exploding over his cock. He fucks me until I don’t think I’ll be able to take his cock anymore, and grabs me by the back of the hair, pulls me onto my knees and shoves his cock into my mouth. “You take all of this like a good girl, brat, ‘cause you’re the bitch who made it rise to the surface,” Axel sneers while getting a good grip of my hair he fucks my mouth like it’s my pussy and his semen soon comes shooting down my throat. There’s so much I begin to gag and he only shoves his cock down more. “Breathe through your nose. I know you’ve done this shit before.” He yanks my hair back and looks into my eyes as he fucks my mouth. “God, I fuckin’ love it, feelin’ you gag on my cock. The two of us might have to make a habit of this shit.”