Copyright
Leather and Chrome
Royal Bastards MC: Detroit, MI #2
Copyright © 2020, Shannon Youngblood
Editing by: Natasha Hooks and Stephanie Allen
Cover Design: Jay Aheer @ Simply Defined Art
Self Publication Date December 2020
https://facebook.com/sgyoungblood
All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The unauthorized reproduction of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher's permission.
This is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, Businesses, Places, Events, and Incidents are either products of the author's imagination, or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published in the United States by Shannon Youngblood
ISBN 979857615449
Dedication: I dedicate this book to my body. Can you please stop falling apart now? Thank you.
ROYAL BASTARDS CODE
PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.
RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.
HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.
OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’Lady. PERIOD.
CHURCH is MANDATORY.
LOYALTY: Takes precedence over all, including well-being.
HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.
TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.
TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.
NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.
“It’s so fucking hot,” I growled, scratching at the hairs on my chin.
“I know, Brother,” Derp chuckled, elbowing me and nodding at the center of the basement floor. “What I wouldn’t give to have that sexy thing underneath me.”
Resisting the urge to punch the young prospect in the face, I ran my fingers through my hair and turned towards the kid. “I was talking about the temperature, you nim-wit, and if I were you, I wouldn’t let Silver hear you talking about his ol’ lady like that. Not if you want to keep your eyeballs.”
Derp paled. He knew I was right. Silver and Lacey weren't technically married yet, but the deed was as good as done, and in the Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club, you never disrespected a brother’s ol’ lady. Not if you wanted to remain with the RBMC.
“I meant no disrespect, Chrome,” Derp backpedaled.
While keeping my eyes on the scene in front of me, I leaned over to whisper something only for his ears. “There’s been a lot of bloodshed in the past several weeks, and while it warms my dead black heart to see crimson drenched on my hands, don’t make me kill you, alright?”
Derp’s face turned a putrid shade of green, and without another word, he shuffled away from me to stand next to his brother prospect. Derp and TBone weren’t actually brothers, just as Silver and I weren’t, but they had forged a bond not unlike the two of us, despite our age difference. If I could feel any emotions, I was sure I would feel a little pride for those two.
I had joined the Detroit Chapter of the Royal Bastards when I was just eighteen years old. Silver, our Prez was sixteen years older than me, and his father, Stallion had been the Prez at the time. Silver had taken me under his wing and although I had been a scrawny kid, not unlike Derp in a lot of ways, Silver had convinced his Dad to sponsor me.
The next several years, I had blossomed into my own. I shot up to over six foot tall, gained eighty pounds of pure muscle, grew a beard and almost immediately after being patched in, was given the role of SAA, Sergeant at Arms. Silver had quickly become my best friend, and the only person I trusted with my life, no matter our age difference. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust my other brothers, I did, but at an early age, I had learned that the only person I could ever truly depend on, was myself.
Shaking my head, I avoided my childhood memories trying to free themselves from the compartmentalized box I had shoved them in. After Silver had taken on his rightful role as Prez, I had been given his vacated spot as VP, and with that meant I needed to make sure the scene happening in front of me was safe for both of the attendants, but also for the people within it. The people in question being our Prez and Lacey.
The Detroit Chapter ran a successful BDSM club out of our warehouse basement. The large circular room where we now stood was the main play space. Around the outside walls were individual rooms where our submissives lived, if they didn’t have other accommodations. Although many of our girls identified themselves as slaves in the context of BDSM, they were free to leave at any time.
Our piece of shit Prez, prior to Silver, hadn’t gotten that particular memo, and we had recently discovered that a majority of our submissives had been trafficked into our care. When Silver took over, they were all given the choice to leave, but with Silver as Prez, none of them did.
I watched with mild appreciation as Silver carefully strapped his young fiance to the St. Andrews cross. His gentle touch, and light whispers into her ear made Silver out to be a soft Dominant, a gentle Daddy. While that may have been the case in the presence of Lacy, those of us who knew Silver, knew exactly how vicious he could actually be. In fact, it hadn’t been very long since Silver had our previous Prez drawn and quartered, motorcycle style.
I had never been more proud of Silver than I had in that moment. That fucker, Hornet, had deserved his fate plus more, and had he been given to me to deal with, there was a high probability he would have wished for the death he ended up getting.
There was no sugar coating it. I had no heart. I didn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything outside of my bike, my club, and myself. Most people called me a walking demon. I took great pride in dismembering the scum of the earth bit by bit. The only emotion that radiated through me ninety-nine percent of the day as rage, and I liked it that way.
Too often in my life I had seen people I cared about succumb to the rotting and putrid filth of the earth. Too often, I had wiped tears off the faces of victims of horrendous sex crimes, and too often had I smelled the coppery scent of pooling blood around the wounds of my brothers. There was no other emotion left in me outside of my rage.
Six years ago when Stallion, Silver’s dad, had been brutally murdered, along with his mother, sister, submissive, and unborn child, any emotional thread I had been clinging to had been cut, permanently falling away, leaving only volatile fury in its wake. I had accepted that part of me, as had my Prez, but some of the prospects were still frightened of me, and rightfully so.
*crack*
The sound of the flogger against Lacey’s back pulled me from my thoughts, and I watched as little bits of leather plummeted to the floor at Silver’s feet. The club was sorely in need of some new equipment, and I knew the responsibility would fall on me to get it. I would wait for Silver to give the command, and for now would do my duties to my Prez and make sure his scene went off without a hitch.
Scanning the crowd, I checked to make sure everything was going smoothly. I didn’t particularly give a shit about BDSM myself, but the business w
as good for the club, and whatever was good for the club was good for me. Yes, I was a man, and I had needs and urges just like everyone else, but I chose to quench that thirst away from club business.
If I needed to get my dick wet, I went to the outskirts of town to a local dive bar. There were plenty of young women there looking to take a walk on the wild side and suck off a big bad biker. I rented a pay-by-the-hour motel, fucked them like a man possessed and left them there to check out. It may not have been the nicest, but I was honest in what I wanted, and the women knew it before they climbed into my bed. I made sure of that.
*crack*
Another contact of leather on skin had me shaking my head. It had been so long since I had taken a bitch to my bed, and the scene in front of me was hot. I couldn’t deny it. I knew I would need to feed the ravenous beast inside of me soon. It was one of the few ways I knew to keep my madness in check.
Instead of getting lost in my own thoughts, I let myself focus on Silver and Lacey and the scene in front of me.
“You’re such a good little girl,” Silver cooed, hitting his submissive again. The small red welts on her back were minor and there was no blood, but I could feel Lacey’s excitement and her pain.
“Thank you, Sir,” Lacey whispered, her mind already deep into subspace, her body sporting goosebumps and a thin veil of sweat.
Silver dropped the flogger and pressed his body against that of his future bride. Even though Lacey was completely nude, minus her thigh high socks, while Silver wore jeans and his leather cut, he pressed against her as if there was no fabric between them. If I knew anything about my Prez, he was thoroughly enjoying tormenting Lacey.
I watched as Lacey pressed up against him as much as she could with her arms and legs holstred to the arms of the cross. People around the room watching snickered as Silver took a step back and Lacey groaned out her frustrations at the loss of contact.
I reached down to adjust my own pants. There was something about seeing a woman in sexual pain that spoke to me. Not in the way Hornet and Nash had violated Lacey several weeks ago, but in the way Silver was purposely not giving her what she wanted.
“Is there something the matter, babygirl?” Silver chuckled.
Lacey blew out a breath, her platinum blond hair catching the blow. I watched in odd fascination as it billowed out before falling back down onto her face. “No, Sir,” she replied appropriately.
“Are you sure?” Silver asked, a wicked tone lacing his words. “It seems to me, you want to let all of these people watch me fuck you,” he goaded her.
Lacey didn’t reply, only moaned out her frustrations. I knew Silver wouldn’t actually fuck her in front of these people, but I was fully confident in the fact that Silver would torment her. As usual, I wasn’t wrong.
With deft movements, Silver took a step back towards the cross. He placed his fingers on the bend in Lacey’s knee, and slowly and gently guided them upwards towards Lacey’s cunt. He wasn’t going to fuck her with his cock, but he was going to fuck her with his fingers and his words.
“Not a single sound, babygirl,” Silver whispered into her ear loud enough for both Lacey and the attendees to hear.
Like the good girl she was, Lacey didn’t make a peep while Silver’s fingers ravaged her hole. The sound of pounding wetness filled the circular space, and when I took a quick look away to scan the room, more than a few men were beating off their own dicks. I rolled my eyes and pressed on with the scene. I had no interest in masterbating in front of a load of strangers, but this was a BDSM club, and it was to be expected.
“On the count of three babygirl, I want you to cum on my fingers and you can make any noise you want. Are you ready?”
Lacey nodded her head, unable to speak for fear of cumming early. It was written all over her face and the entire crowd knew it.
“One…….. Two……. Two and a half,” Silver said.
I chuckled at his sadistic asshole ways.
“Three,” Silver said loudly, but was immediately drowned out by Lacey’s wails.
Around the room, I watched as several single male members shot their load all over the floor. If I hadn’t been used to it, it would have completely grossed me the fuck out. Luckily for me, I wasn’t a prospect anymore, and cleaning duty was no longer on my list of shit to do. I looked over at TBone and Derp and found them enjoying the show as well. They probably wouldn’t enjoy it so much after cleaning up loads of spunk.
After Lacey came down from her climax, Silver released her from her bonds, and picked her up. Cradling her to his body, Silver walked towards me to exit the dungeon. He looked me in the eye and nodded.
I’ll be back later. Make sure everything goes smoothly until I return.
He didn’t have to speak the words, I already knew what he was going to say. I nodded back to him and then walked towards the cross. Dumpster met me in the middle and helped me carry the cross back over to its rightful place.
“TBone,” I called out for the young Prospect.
“Yeah, boss?” He said, running over.
“Clean the cross.”
I walked away without waiting for a response, Dumpster a step behind me. I liked Dumpster, and his loyalty to Silver was undying. He was an older brother, double my age, and slightly more soft spoken, but he was a beast in his own right, and I respected the hell out of him.
“What can I do for you, Dumpster?” I asked, returning to my post by the door to oversee the night ahead.
“It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it, Chrome?” He asked, catching me completely off guard, my rage prickling to the surface.
“The fuck?” I sneered.
Dumpster held up his hands, a gesture meaning to calm me down.
“I don’t want to intrude, Chrome, but we’ve all noticed you’ve been on edge more than usual since Hornet and Nash’s death.”
“You don’t want to intrude? What the fuck do you know?” I snarled. Dumpster wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t any of his fucking business.
“Look,” he said plainly. “You’re my brother. Hell, you’re like a son to me. I remember the day you came in, a total of one hundred and fifteen pounds soaking wet. I see the man you’ve become.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything, Dumpster?”
“I’m just saying that I know you, and you my friend, need to get laid.”
Dumpster walked away, knowing I couldn’t follow. Deep down, a comforting and welcomed rage bubbled low in my chest. He was right. I needed to feed, fuck and fight, preferably in that order. Unlucky for me, I had to wait until Silver finished up with Lacey before I could leave.
I reached up and patted at the new ink on me, a silver and black motorcycle engine that rippled and wrapped around my upper arm. The urge to pick at it was strong, but I resisted. If I didn’t find something for my fingers to do soon, I would claw my way through my own skin, attempting to release the eruption inside of me.
Silver better hurry the fuck up. I needed to ride.
The cool night wind whipped through my hair as I straddled my faithful hog and drove away from the Royal Bastards warehouse. That place was my home and my family lived inside, but sometimes, like tonight, I needed to get away. I needed to be one with my mind, the wind, and the rumble of the engine under me. There was a sense of solace within me when I took my bike out on my own. It was just me and the open road.
I gripped the throttle, my cock getting figuratively hard at the whispered purr of my bike. I checked my speedometer and grinned as I pushed ninety mph on the deserted backroads. All too soon I would hit the freeway and have to reign in my lust-fueled speed. I was going to absorb every second of my freedom, and let out my pent up rage beast for a bit of fun while I still could.
I had barely made it out of the club in one piece. Once Silver had finally come back downstairs, my pupils had already dilated to such an extreme that not even the club submissive who knew me would approach. Dumpster was fucking right. I needed to get out asap.
/> I barreled up the stairs heading for my bike when Juicebox, our club whore, stopped me instead.
“Hey Chrome,” she purred, “Wanna take me with you?”
I wanted nothing to do with the bitch, and she knew it. After we took out Hornet and Nash for the vile and nasty things they did, half of the brothers, myself included, wanted to throw her out. She had been Hornet’s little plaything, and although Silver believed her innocence and that she had no knowledge of the sex trafficking that Hornet had been a part of, I didn’t trust her for a second.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I growled, my teeth clenched together, barely containing my beast.
“Oh come on,” she pouted, her index finger running up and down the edge of my cut. “Let me come with you. I’ll show you the best time of your life.”
I grabbed her finger and flung it off of me. “Juicebox, I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last club bunny on Earth, now get the fuck out of my way.”
She must have seen the feral look reflecting back at her because she took a step away, allowing me to pass.
I shook my head and focused on the road. The bar I liked to frequent was just a few miles down the freeway. I needed a beer, a shot or three, and a willing woman. I slowed down to get on the highway, and a few minutes later, pulled into the dirt parking lot.
Slingers wasn’t a big place. The bar took up the long side of the room, and at the end a small stage for karaoke or a band. They served a small amount of bar food, but people didn’t come in for grub. As soon as I opened the door, a multitude of eyes fell on me. Most of them turned back to the party they were with, but as usual, several pairs of hungry eyes tried to catch my own.
Finding a table in the corner, I put in my order with the scantily clad waitress, and scanned the room. Three different women stared at me, and I took stock of them. One was at least ten years my senior, obviously trying to live out her hay days. I blinked past her and moved on to the next. Sitting at the next table over, a petite girl, barely legal, winked at me. The beast inside of me liked her, but there was no way on God’s green fucking earth I was gonna shack up with a blonde bimbo. Next thing I knew she would claim she was pregnant with my baby.
Leather and Chrome (Royal Bastards MC: Detroit, MI Book 2) Page 1