by Chiah Wilder
“Damn. Are all the women here willing to sleep around?”
“Yeah. The women who come to biker parties usually know the score. If she doesn’t respect the brothers it can be a problem.”
Isla stopped and looked at him. “What does that mean? You guys don’t force women, do you?”
Sangre shook his head. “We don’t do that shit. If a woman doesn’t want to put out, that’s her decision, but if she mouths off or shows disrespect, she gets her ass thrown out. The problems start when brothers from other MCs come. They have different rules and ideas at their clubs, so sometimes things heat up. We try and maintain order, but it doesn’t always work out. You know, no two motorcycle clubs are the same, just like no two bikers are the same. Attitude, image, and actions of all MCs shift over time, but what never changes is the basic glue that holds all clubs together—brotherhood, trust, and security.”
“Does trouble happen a lot?”
“Not a lot, but sometimes. Almost all the women who come to the parties know the score and want to have a night of wild sex, booze, and weed. Sometimes the trouble comes from brothers fighting each other. It’s the way it goes.”
“With all that testosterone and megawatts of badass attitude, I’m not surprised the guys duke it out.”
As they passed the men milling about in front, Sangre tightened his grip on her hand, pride mixed with anger rising inside him when he saw the way they looked at her. Several of them called out to him, and he raised his free arm in the air and waved his fist.
Inside, red lights lit the main room, which was thick with smoke. A greenish glow lit the bar area that was packed with men in black leather, and Sangre chuckled as he watched the prospects hustling their asses to accommodate the burgeoning crowd. It reminded him of his prospecting days and how glad he was that they were over. Music blasted and it seemed like the walls shook. Women ran their gazes over him, smiling seductively, and men blatantly assessed Isla, lust and hunger glinting in their eyes.
“Let’s go out back,” he yelled near her ear, leading her through the labyrinth of bodies.
The fresh air was a welcome relief from the scent of sweat, weed, and cigarettes of the main room. He guided Isla over to a picnic table and pulled out the bench for her.
“This is so much better,” she said, looking around the yard. “Something smells delicious.”
“Lena’s our cook and she makes the best damn food in the county. The club girls help, but she’s the one calling all the shots. We can get a plate. The table’s in the far corner of the yard.”
“Lead the way. I’m starving.” As they approached the long line, the men and women made room for him to go in front of them since he was an officer of the club. He picked up a plate and handed it to her.
“I like the special treatment you get around here.” She poked him in the stomach then leaned in close, placing her hand on the back of his neck and tugging him toward her. “You’ll have to show me around after we eat. I want to see where you live,” she said, her warm breath fanning over his neck.
He wrapped his arm around her, letting his hand drift to her ass. “I can’t wait to get you to my room.” He pinched her butt lightly then nudged her forward.
As they sat at the table, his plate piled high with tacos, enchiladas, and Spanish rice, and Isla dancing in place while she ate her burrito, Patriot came over with Kelly plastered to his side.
“Hey,” he said to Sangre, his gaze fixed on Isla.
“How’s it goin’?” he answered, slinking his arm around Isla’s waist.
The vice president of the Fallen Slayers MC snapped his eyes to Sangre, a quizzical look spreading over his face. “Not bad. What’ve you been up to?” His gaze darted to Isla then back to Sangre.
“Surviving.” Sangre picked up the beer one of the prospects had put on the table.
“I love your hair,” Kelly said to Isla. “It’s so pretty.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you strip it to get it that color?”
“No. I just put it over my black hair and it gives it this sheen. It pops in the sun or under lights, but if it’s night, it just looks super black.”
“It’s really cool.”
Sangre saw Kelly checking Isla out, and detected a hint of resignation flickering in her eyes. She turned her gaze to him and smiled weakly.
“I see you’ve picked up a real hottie to have dinner with.” Patriot leered.
“Isla’s my woman,” he replied, body stiffening.
Patriot’s demeanor changed immediately, and he averted his gaze from her. “Sorry, dude. I didn’t know.” For the rest of their conversation, he didn’t even glance at Isla, and Kelly stood next to him, her eyes cast downward.
Why the fuck did I tell Patriot that Isla’s my woman? He took another swig of beer. Because she is. I feel something real for her. He popped a chip dipped in guacamole in his mouth, and groaned low when he saw Army approaching with Shotgun and Crow following behind.
“What wrong?” Isla asked.
“Nothing. Just some of my brothers coming over. The one with the short hair can be a real asshole. Just warning you.”
“I can handle anything he wants to bring on.”
“He won’t be rude to you because he knows I’d bash his face in. It’s just that he can be too much at times.”
“Hey, bro,” Army said, slapping Sangre on the back while he looked at Isla. “You gonna introduce me to your lady here?”
Before he could answer, Crow and Shotgun came up to the table, beers and joints in hand.
Shaking his head, Sangre knew he wouldn’t get any peace until he let his brothers meet Isla. “This is Isla,” he said. “And this is Army, Crow, and Shotgun.”
She smiled. “Hi.”
“Aren’t you Sangre’s friend?” Army asked.
“Yeah,” she said.
“You better fuckin’ stop there,” Sangre said in a low voice.
“I just asked a damn question.” Army glared at him.
Isla tugged on Sangre’s arm. “Do you mind getting me a cheese enchilada? These beautiful shoes that I spent way too much money on are killing me.”
He laughed and tweaked the tip of her nose. “Sure, hun.” He got up from the table then pulled Army away from it.
“I was gonna talk to your friend,” he said to Sangre.
“There’s no reason to. I’m telling you to back the fuck off.”
“Chill, dude,” Crow said as he followed them to the buffet table.
“Don’t you start.” Sangre picked up a dish.
“We’re just ribbing you because it’s so fuckin’ obvious that you’re more than friends with her,” Crow replied.
“So the fuck what? How’s this any brother’s damn business?” He placed a cheese enchilada on the plate.
Army busted out loud. “Fuck! This isn’t a friends with benefits, you’re hooked on this chick.”
The dish broke in several pieces when it hit the concrete as Sangre’s fists sunk into Army’s gut. Crow intervened and Sangre drove a fist hard into his jaw; pain screamed through his hand. Crow punched back, and from his peripheral vision, he saw Army coming for him. Sangre catapulted, putting Army beneath him, hitting him in the face.
“I told you to back the fuck off,” he said between short breaths.
Soon a circled formed around the fighting men. Crow had come up from the side and pulled Sangre off Army. Crow then swung a punch at him, but he deflected it, grabbed Crow’s arm and flipped him on his back.
Strong hands yanked Sangre back and he cursed and yelled.
“That’s enough, bro.” Diablo’s terse voice washed over him.
Crow jumped up, wiped the trickle of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and took a beer Lucy handed him. “Fuckin’ good move, dude,” he said, tipping the bottle in Sangre’s direction.
Cleaning off the dirt from his jeans, Army looked at Sangre. “You’re hopeless. You’re so fuckin’ hooked, bro.” He guffawed and went over to the buffet t
able and grabbed a plate. “Your woman said a cheese enchilada, right?”
Every muscle in Sangre’s body was tight. I lost my fuckin’ cool over a woman. Over Isla. And in front of all the brothers. He gave a slight nod and took the ice pack Kelly handed him.
“You don’t wanna have that swell up,” she said, her hand lingering a little too long on his.
“Thanks.” He put it against his jaw and narrowed his eyes when Army came over to him with the plate for Isla. He spun around and stomped back to the table.
“What the hell happened to you?” she asked when he sat down. “Were you involved in that ruckus?”
“Here.” He pushed the dish toward her. “I had to set some things straight with a couple of the guys.”
Shaking her head, she picked up her fork. “It’s unbelievable how testosterone-driven your club is.” She took a bite of her food.
“I don’t take shit from anyone.” He watched her wiggle in her seat and a jolt of heat went through his body. I’m so outta control when it comes to her.
“This is so good,” she said, taking another bite.
He swept the hair back from her neck. “You’re fuckin’ turning me on, babe.”
Her eyes widened. “Just by eating?”
She knows exactly what she’s doing. “I can think of something I’d like to be eating.” Slipping his hand under her skirt, he caressed the skin of her inner thighs. “So soft,” he whispered against her ear before pulling her earlobe between his teeth, sucking it gently. A low moan escaped from her parted lips and went straight to his dick. Then his fingers grazed at the edge of her panties, and she squirmed.
“What’re you doing?” She glanced up from under her lashes, her lips curving into a sexy smile.
Staring at her glossy lips, desire burned through his veins, and he lowered his gaze to the swell of her tits. “Nothing.” Burying his face in her neck, he left a trail of tiny kisses there down to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat as her soft moans egged him on. His finger slipped under her panties and skimmed over her slick folds before pushing inside her.
“Fuck,” she murmured, parting her legs a bit.
“That’s a good girl,” he said in a low voice as he slowly moved his finger in and out of her.
She gasped. “There’re so many people here,” she rasped as she opened her legs wider.
“Do you want me to stop?” He kept pushing in and out. She shook her head and he smiled then thrust in and out of her with speed again and again until her face muscles tightened and her eyes closed.
“Oh, Sangre,” she said in a barely audible voice, and at that moment, he knew she was ready to explode. He dipped his head and covered her mouth with his as she came, swallowing her moans and cries. Isla leaned into him, and he held her close as the ultimate pleasure overtook her.
“I heard you let Army and Crow have it,” Skull said, scooting on the bench across from Sangre.
With one more thrust, he removed his finger from Isla while nodding. “They had it coming to them, especially Army.” Isla nestled closer to him, and he slinked an arm around her shoulders.
“Did you ask her about the CD?” Skull took a big bite out of his taco.
Sangre looked down at her and smiled when her eyelids fluttered open. “What CD?” she asked.
“The one for Skull’s sister.”
“I don’t know if you remember two goofy teenagers shoving CDs in your face at Trailside.” Skull picked up his beer. “One of them was my sister and she’s fuckin’ nuts about your band, especially the guitarist.”
She straightened up. “Yes, I remember her and her friend. I don’t remember their names.”
“Ella—my sis, and Zoe’s her friend.”
“That’s right. They both have the hots for Arsen. Did you want me to get the band to sign a CD for them?”
“If you don’t mind.” Skull glanced at Sangre. “You were supposed to have asked her.”
“I was gonna.” The truth was he’d forgotten, and that seemed to be the norm for him since Isla came back into his life. All that mattered was her and, of course, the club, but she was always forefront in his mind.
“It’s fine,” Isla said, picking up her drink. “I’ll have the band sign one for Ella and Zoe. Are they coming to the show tomorrow night?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll give the CDs to them at the show.” She cocked her head and paused. “Is that Ozzy playing? I’m pretty sure it is, but it’s loud out here.”
“Yup. It’s ‘I Don’t Wanna Stop,’” Sangre said.
“I thought so. Let’s dance. I love this song.” She scrambled out of her seat and swayed her hips in rhythm to the song until he grabbed her hand and led her into the main room to a makeshift dance floor. She spun around, her head bobbing in beat to the music, her hips moving so damn seductively. There was a sheen on her flushed skin and her hazel eyes were bright, and he wanted nothing more than to pin her against the wall and fuck her good and hard.
The song ended and the slow strains from Bon Jovi’s “I’ll Be There For You” filled the room. Sangre yanked her to him and she curled her arms around his neck and leaned into him, tucking her head against his chest. His arms were around her waist and his hands rested on her ass. Flexing his hips against hers, he ground his hard cock against her. She lifted her head and he crushed his mouth on hers. Kissing, they swayed to the song, and Isla rubbed her tits against his chest.
“Fuck, baby,” he growled against her lips. Cupping her ass, he lifted her inches from the floor.
The song ended and they broke their kiss. Sangre slid Isla down his body, planting her feet on the linoleum floor. The hard-hitting beats of AC/DC rocked the room, and Isla spun away from him and shook her sweet ass in time to the music. She shimmied up to him, her tits jiggling in erotic motion, her mouth moving to the lyrics of the song. He reached for her, but she pulled back, tossing her head back in laughter.
After several more fast songs, the pace slowed down again with another ballad and she moved toward him, her arms outstretched as if to curl around his neck again, but he gripped her hand and pulled her away from the dance floor and up the flight of stairs to his room. His cock was so hard it was painful, and he couldn’t wait to pump it inside her.
Before he opened his door, he pinned Isla against it, kissed her throat, and squeezed her tits. “You were teasing me on the dance floor with these,” he said, dragging his mouth to the swell of her breasts and biting them.
“Let’s go inside,” she murmured, her hand grabbing his hair and yanking his head up. She kissed him, and his tongue pushed against her teeth, urging her mouth to let him in. Parting her lips, her tongue delved inside, and she moaned as he twisted her hair in his fingers and drew her lips even closer to his until there was no space between them. The key jingled in the lock as he tried to open the door. Holding her tight, he pushed it open then kicked it shut.
He skimmed his hands over her curves then reached under her skirt and slid his hand inside her panties and grabbed her ass cheek.
“I gotta have that sweet ass, babe,” he said. With his free hand, he put her hand on his throbbing cock. “See what you do to me?” She squeezed hard and he thought he was going to lose it.
Then she took his hand and placed it on her crotch; the sheer fabric covering it was wet. Desire burned in her eyes. “See what you do to me?” she whispered before running her tongue up the length of his throat.
“Get on the bed,” he ordered.
“Not yet,” she said, tugging his zipper down. His cock sprang out and she curled her hand around it, her thumb caressing its head.
He sucked in his breath. “Fuck, babe.” He tangled his fingers in her long hair.
Isla opened his pants and tugged his jeans and boxers down then dropped to her knees. He watched as she stroked his cock’s head with the tip of her tongue, running it on the underside before she took him in her warm mouth, pushing him deeper and deeper until his balls hit against her chin.
“Damn, woman,” he rasped as he yanked her hair. His dick slid in and out of her mouth, each thrust harder than the last, and he relished the fire she lit in his cock and balls.
“I love fucking your mouth, but I’m gonna blow, and I don’t want to, babe.” Placing his hands on the sides of her face, he gently pushed her back. She looked up at him, her lips glistening. He yanked her up and covered her mouth with his, kissing her hard and deep. He kicked off his boots, then threw off his clothes before he watched Isla undress in front of him. Her hard nipples beckoned him, and he came up to her as she shimmied out of her panties, and sucked one of the buds in his mouth while he grazed the other with his thumb.
She buried her fingers in his hair, moaning and squirming under his touch. “So good,” she mumbled.
“Get on all fours on the bed.” He watched her ass sway as she planted her knees on the mattress. “Ass in the air.” She looked over her shoulder and threw him a sly smile then pressed her upper body into the sheets and spread her legs. He was riveted by the firm flesh of her butt. Under the overhead light, he could see her juices glistening between the engorged folds. He licked his lips and climbed on the bed. Taking his index finger, he flicked her clit over and over.
“Fuck me, Sangre,” she moaned.
He chuckled. “You’re impatient, hun.” Flipping on his back, he scooted under her dripping pussy and, with his hands on her hips, he eased her down until she was right above his mouth. He slid a finger inside her then ran his tongue from her wet slit to her swollen clit. Back and forth with his tongue; in and out with his finger. Isla’s guttural groans filled the room.
“I want to fuck your ass, baby,” he said as he kept up his pace on her sex. “Have you ever done it?”
“No,” she panted. “I never trusted anyone enough to do it with.”
“Do you trust me enough?” His free hand squeezed one of her firm globes.
“Yeah, but it better not hurt.”
He chuckled. “It’ll hurt a little, but I’ll go real slow until your ass adjusts to my cock.”
“I hope you have a lot of lubricant.”
“I do, babe. I love knowing I’m your first.” He slid out from under her, and smeared her juices over her ass cheeks then bent down and licked, kissed, and bit them. Running one hand over her smooth globes, he cupped her wet mound with the other. “So fuckin’ tempting,” he said, smacking one of her cheeks with his hand.