Mad Delights

by Beth D. Carter

  He groaned and buried his hands in her hair. It didn’t take much to guide her mouth to suck his cock. She happily swallowed him down. Chloe didn’t understand a lot of girls who said they didn’t like giving head or being fucked in the ass. She couldn’t imagine two better ways to pass the time, unless it was waiting for Romeo to join them for a ménage à trois.

  “Suck me, sweetheart,” Dax moaned. “Holy fuck, that feels good.”

  Chloe held the base of his cock so she could better suck on him and she began the blow job with short, shallow thrusts. Each time she took him into her mouth, she eased her throat muscles a little more. Allowing his cock to go farther, deeper took practice since her mouth was small, so she had to work up to deep-throating, but Dax didn’t seem to mind the wait. He was moaning, the involuntary thrust of his hips shallow and stilted.

  Little by little, Chloe increased the tempo, sucking him harder—faster. She squeezed Dax’s sac, gently rolling the balls. Dax gave a heavy gasp, his hips twitching under the restraint he held.

  “Fuck!” he grunted. “I should be able to last, but your mouth is heaven. I’m going to come.”

  Satisfaction rolled over her. There was nothing quite like causing a big, strong man like Daxton Squire to lose control. She continued her assault, not moving her mouth off him or slowing her rhythm. With one more slide of her tongue, he exploded, shouting out his pleasure. She swallowed down his cum, milking him for every drop he spewed. After a few moments, Dax slumped, and she pulled off, using the nearby sheet to wipe her mouth. Guess she was going to have to do laundry again.

  When he had managed to get his breathing under control, he hauled her up and into his arms. She rested her head upon his chest and heard the steady rhythm of his heart. And damned if it didn’t make her heart beat with some type of emotion she’d never felt before. What it was, she didn’t know. She only knew she liked it and wanted more of that contented feeling.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Romeo sat in his chair, watching the men file into the room. Dax was the last, finger-combing his wet hair—and he knew why. Romeo had known he was in his bedroom with Chloe, and he’d deliberately stayed away. To make this thing between them work, they had to have some time to themselves. He’d waited for jealousy to kick in but, surprisingly, all he felt was hope that Dax was as connected with Chloe as he was.

  He banged his gavel and brought the meeting to order.

  “Where’s Bandit?” he asked.

  “Shitter,” Boone replied.

  Romeo nodded. “Well, someone can catch him up. There are several issues that need to be addressed,” he said. “We have a good lead on Red Eye, who says he has something special for us. He’s willing to sell us eight kilos of his new powder for two hundred grand.”

  Murmurs broke out among the members.

  “We can net a pretty good profit even keeping our regular territories,” Boone replied. “But we have to trust the reliability of his brand.”

  “I thought we didn’t have any money,” Sioux said, addressing the rumblings.

  “We don’t,” Romeo replied. “Yet. But I have a proposition to bring to the table, one that alleviates that particular pressing need.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Hook demanded.

  “I’m sure you all know Chloe,” Romeo said, looking around the table. The men nodded. “She’s the granddaughter of a Yakuza boss. She’s offered to give us weapons and cash.”

  Shocked silence encompassed the table.

  “I’m bringing this to a vote, because if we all agree, we’re looking at being Yakuza subjects—”

  “No, we’re not,” Dax interjected.

  Romeo frowned. “What?”

  “Chloe is offering this on her own. I talked to her earlier. Her grandfather is supplying the guns, of course, but only with her money.”

  All the men glanced at each other. Romeo felt as if someone had punched him extremely hard in the stomach. Her money? How much fucking money did she have? And how the hell did he feel about her having enough money to fund the Men of Hell?

  “What’s the catch?”

  Dax shook his head. “No catch. She’s…” He looked at Romeo, their eyes met and held. “She’s me and Romeo’s old lady.”

  Jaws dropped. A shocked silence drifted through the room, and one side of Romeo’s mouth curled up. Well, shit. I have an old lady. Wait, did that mean Dax was his old man? No, that was too fucked up. He was going to have to call Branch about this, not that he was opposed to suddenly losing his bachelorhood. Dax had stated what had been swimming through his own head, a half-formed idea that had slowly been taking root ever since his and Chloe’s night together in Wheels’ house. But relationships were hard work to begin with, so adding in another member was going to make life interesting.

  If she’s rich, does this make me her boy toy?

  “I guess your older brother was a bad influence,” Boone remarked dryly.

  Everyone laughed.

  Romeo let them have their moment to poke fun because he was confused as hell. Was he supposed to be happy? Accepting? He really didn’t have time to deal with this right now, so he pushed all his personal thoughts to the side.

  “All right, rein it in,” Romeo ordered sharply. “I suppose that takes one thing off the agenda.”

  “And relieves my mind,” Boone added. “No offense, but I personally didn’t want to be a Yakuza bitch.”

  Romeo silently agreed. “Although I like my bitch,” he said.

  “You’d better not let Chloe hear you call her that,” Dax warned. “Because I think she knows how to tie nuts in a knot.”

  Several of the men winced.

  Romeo glanced around the table, knowing that this was the time to bring up the change of leadership topic. He stared at the gavel in his hand and wondered how he’d feel watching Boone bang it to bring a meeting to order. Wheels had often told him that ownership of the gavel was a combination of leader, peacekeeper and politician, and now that he was so close to giving it up, something inside him seized.

  He cleared his throat and forced himself to push the words out.

  This was the right thing to do. Not for him, but for the club.

  “You’re holding us back, Beau.”

  “You can’t waver, Romeo.”

  “I need to bring up something else, something…different from Wheels’ vision of who should sit at the head of this table.”

  Dax frowned. Boone frowned.

  He opened his mouth to continue, and the lights suddenly went out. And it wasn’t just in the chapel. Screams and yelling came from the front of the clubhouse, where the women and children gathered in the evenings after dinner.

  “What the fuck?” Romeo surged to his feet, but everything was pitch dark and he hit his knee against the table.

  A couple of members pulled out their phones to give them light. They all hurried from the room, toward the front. Some of the women had found flashlights and candles. Romeo didn’t know they even had candles.

  “Power outage?” Dax asked.

  Romeo could tell from the suspicion in his voice that he didn’t think so. Neither did Romeo.

  “Get the families to the bomb shelter,” he ordered, thinking quickly. “Tell the old ladies they’re going to have to deal with the sweet butts. Have Burrito and Hook go with the women and children to protect them.”

  Dax nodded and left to follow the directives. Romeo turned to Boone and Gabby.

  “Take a few men and check the perimeters,” he said. “Make sure I’m just being paranoid.”

  “On it,” Boone replied.

  “Wrench,” he addressed. “Take Hawg and go check the generators and see why they aren’t kicking in.”

  “Okay,” Wrench said and hurried away.

  “Sioux,” he called out as he moved to the door. “Come with me to the munitions storage so we can distribute what guns we have.”

  The Native American man followed him. They headed across the murky compound quickly. Romeo didn’t
like that every glimmer of light seemed to have been extinguished. Even thick clouds obscured the moon. Glowing lights flashed through the blackout, and sometimes the bright screen of a phone cut through the night. He and Sioux had just reached the storage unit when gunfire erupted. Romeo ducked down and hurried to the side, trying to find any type of cover, and he felt Sioux dive beside him.

  “What the fuck?” He pulled his 9 millimeter from its shoulder holster under his cut.

  “I see several flash points,” Sioux muttered. “God damn it, how did they get in?”

  From his vantage point, he couldn’t answer the question. But the majority of the firing came from the direction of the gate, and that left a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Listen, the combination to the storage unit is forty, thirty, twenty-one. Get it open and distribute the guns.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Romeo focused on one origin flash as gunfire again erupted through the night. It seemed like the assholes were aiming at the clubhouse and he was glad he had the families moved. But Sioux had asked a very important question.

  How in the hell had they got in?

  The one advantage he had over the fucking attackers was the fact that he knew every square inch of the compound, and he utilized that knowledge by maneuvering silently to the gunman closest to him. A mound of tires separated him and the person shooting, and when he heard the click of the hammer, Romeo realized his opportunity. He didn’t want to kill the person right away. He wanted to know who the fuck was trying to take them out.

  Romeo charged and barreled into the man, sending them both to the ground. The first thing he realized was that the attacker was wearing night-vision goggles and quickly yanked them off. Disoriented, he tried to fight blindly, but Romeo blocked his punches, reared back with his own fist and bashed it into the man’s face. He grunted and fell. Romeo pressed the barrel of his gun against the fucker’s forehead.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “Fuck you,” the man gasped.

  Romeo aimed his gun and shot him in the hand. A blood-curdling scream left his lips and the warm spatter of blood hit Romeo’s face. He placed the gun’s barrel back on his forehead and the man gasped when the hot metal seared the skin.

  “I’ll be happy to shoot off all your extremities,” Romeo said coldly. “Tell me who the hell you are and I’ll consider not doing that.”

  “T-The D-D-Double Guns.”

  “What do you want?”

  The asshole only groaned.

  Romeo grabbed the other hand and pushed his gun into it.

  “No!” the man cried. “Bair! We want the town. And Vicious wants Romeo and Boone dead.”

  “Vicious?”

  “Yeah. Vicious and Bizerk run the club. That’s it, I swear. That’s all I know.”

  “Noted,” Romeo replied and shot the poor sap in the head. He felt no remorse for killing anyone who had invaded and shot ruthlessly into a house that had been full of women and children. Relief that he’d gone with his gut to get them to the bomb shelter made him more determined to hunt the fuckers down and destroy them.

  Besides, they had killed Babyface, Drifter and Candy Box. They weren’t exactly even, but this certainly helped alleviate some of his vengeful rage.

  The shooting was still going on, but as Romeo got off the dead informant, he noticed from the angle and sound of the gunfire that Sioux must have distributed the weapons because his Brothers were fighting back with the rifles.

  Just as he picked up the dead man’s night-vision glasses, the floodlights at the four corners of the compound flared to life, bathing the grounds in bright light. He squinted, trying to find everyone.

  The sudden light brought a quick ceasefire, probably because the invaders were blinded from wearing the night goggles, screaming in agony. Bullet holes peppered the clubhouse—so many he couldn’t count them all. Romeo saw several MOH Brothers in the broken windows on the second floor keeping watch and he thought about Chloe. She’d been upstairs. At least, that’s where he figured she’d been when Dax had come hurrying late to the church meeting. Although panic tried to raise its head, he pushed the freezing feeling aside to focus on what had to be done. Besides, Chloe knew how to take care of herself.

  That’s what he had to believe, because if anything happened to her… Jesus, he fucking hoped nothing had happened to her. Just as that thought formed, an agonizing cry roared over the sudden silence, followed by a single gunshot, and Romeo’s heart skipped a beat.

  * * * *

  At the first sound of gunfire, Chloe rolled out of bed and crouched down. Naked, she shimmied her way over to the discarded clothes on the floor and dressed while lying down. It took her a moment to remember where she’d put her gun, and found it in her medical bag. She slipped a few extra magazines in her jeans pockets.

  Romeo’s bedroom faced the back of the clubhouse, and as she made her way out of the room, she realized that all the firepower seemed concentrated on the front of the building. Several stray shots flew through the windows to puncture the hallway walls. She stayed low and moved fast. The last thing she planned on doing was dying that night.

  She had to follow the curses of the men since the pitch darkness prevented her from seeing anything. Her memory led her out the back. Where was Romeo? And Dax? All she focused on was finding them, making sure they were okay, because if they were shot… Dead… Her heart stuttered in her chest as her stomach flip-flopped.

  No, don’t think about that.

  Chloe kept to the shadows and hoped that none of the Men of Hell mistook her for one of the bad guys. She couldn’t see much in the oppressive night that covered the compound. They were too far away from civilization to catch any of the town lights. Logically, to get the drop on them, the power had to be cut and the sentries taken out. She made her way toward one of the towers where the members took turns standing guard to watch the gate. It was the direction from which the attack had come, so she pushed forward, instinctively feeling that that was where Romeo would head.

  When a shadow moved toward her, she ducked behind a shed, circling until she leveled her gun at the intruder. She saw the person wore night-vision goggles. It didn’t surprise her because this was obviously a meticulously planned attack, bold and organized, and the idea of treachery swam in her thoughts.

  “Stop,” she ordered.

  The person froze.

  Around them shouts from both sides sounded, adding to the thunderous cracks of the guns. Chloe ignored them as she took a step closer to make sure her aim in the dark was true. The person suddenly spun and kicked upward, snapping her hand and causing her to lose her grip. Her gun dropped, but Chloe couldn’t focus on it. The intruder aimed the semi-automatic. Chloe shoved the gun up as it fired, using her body weight against the attacker. As they fell, she landed on top of the person and the soft breasts that cushioned her fall revealed with whom she wrestled. In one quick move, she ripped off the hood and goggles. Even in the dark, she could tell it was the bitch Shantel. The woman flinched and blinked rapidly to clear her eyesight.

  “I thought I smelled something whorish,” Chloe taunted.

  “Get off me,” Shantel demanded.

  “Why were you following me? What are you trying to do?”

  Shantel’s fist flew up, catching her off guard, and Chloe fell back. She grabbed her jaw as she scrambled to her feet. Just as Shantel bent to pick up her gun, Chloe kicked it away. They stood face to face, circling each other.

  “I know who you are,” Chloe said.

  “Oh, really? You know I’m the girl who sucked off your man?”

  “And now I know you’re the girl whose ass my foot is going into.”

  Shantel snorted and pulled a knife out from behind her.

  Chloe shrugged. “I’ve had worse odds. Shall we test the disadvantage?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be very fair, do you?”

  “I’m willing if you are.”

  The weapon was a small thing that
gleamed dully. Shantel struck out, swiping the blade, and had Chloe not been prepared and ducked back, it would have sliced her face. Shantel advanced, jabbing with the knife, but each time Chloe managed to avoid being stabbed. She knew her luck would eventually run out, though, so on the next swing, she went on the offensive. As it arched upward, Chloe dodged away, falling to the ground and rolling right into Shantel’s legs. Shantel lost her balance, hitting the ground hard with a strangled gasp.

  Chloe didn’t give her time to recover, straddling her and punching her in the face. Shantel groaned as she let go of the knife. Chloe scooped it up and held it to the woman’s throat.

  “Why have you been attacking the Men of Hell?”

  Shantel spat at her. Chloe wiped the trickle of spit off her face. Then she backhanded her. Shantel’s head snapped to the side, but other than licking the trickle of blood that dribbled down her chin from the blow, she didn’t even flinch.

  Suddenly, Shantel bucked beneath her, and a pair of knees hit her spine. Caught off guard, Chloe jerked forward, the edge nicking Shantel’s throat, but the other woman didn’t seem to care. She wound her arms around Chloe’s chest, tossing her off.

  The knife slipped from her hand and lay between them. Chloe didn’t waste a second, lunging for it at the same time as Shantel. Shantel used her bigger body as a bumper car, barreling into Chloe in an effort to knock her even more off center. But Chloe had learned how to fight dirty because most opponents were bigger than her, so she twisted and used Shantel’s own height against her to bring her down. They fell into a pile of arms and legs, with the blade a power struggle between them.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Shantel raged at her.

  “Fucking bitch, let go of me!”

  Chloe rolled and a second later, Shantel grunted in her ear. Chloe felt the tip sink into flesh and knew that Shantel had been stabbed, only she didn’t know how deeply. She wrenched it out wherever it had impaled and ribbons of blood splattered against Chloe’s cheek. Chloe realized Shantel had been injured pretty bad. She scrambled to her feet and held the knife sure and steady in her hands, waiting for any type of return attack.