by Logan Chance
“I think Patrick laid out the new route. I’m still not sure why we need a new route anyways,” I say, signaling to Six for another beer and a shot. He pours some Jameson and slides it my way. I gulp it down, letting the liquor burn my throat. Blondie has moved onto Patrick, my brother. But, she’ll have no luck with him either. Patrick is two years younger than Rory and one of the most organized men I know. Must be the military in him. He’s not a geek about it, with pocket protectors and shit, but he’s more structured than me. It’s how he coined the nickname, Captain. He had the nickname long before he even became our road captain.
“We need a new route because your ex has been all over the old one,” Rory barks. “Fuck, did you tell Audrey? Maybe one night you got drunk and squealed like a pig.”
“Fuck you.”
Did I forget to mention she’s a Devil’s Way member? And that right there is the number one reason things will never work out between us.
Oh, and she hates my guts. Details.
The door swings open, and my two other brothers, Finn and Colin, enter. Their huge muscled arms grip tightly to a Devil Way’s member’s shoulders they call Gunner.
They both push the man to his knees, and Mick is already on his feet.
Rory and I are as well.
“What the fuck is this?” I shout.
“Found this asshole traveling the new route we’re supposed to take tomorrow,” Finn says, his teeth clenching with anger. His dark hair hangs low in his eyes as he glares over to Colin.
“Yeah, fuck this guy,” Colin adds.
The stocky man gets to his feet, ready to defend himself.
The patch on his jacket makes it clear where his loyalties lie. With the Devil’s Way.
He stands right in front of me, and before I can stop myself, my right fist connects with his lower jaw.
My hand has barely left his face when Rory throws a left hook and the man stumbles on his feet. Blood spills from his mouth, dripping onto the terrazine floor of the clubhouse.
A sinkhole shrieks in the distance, and Finn is already picking the man back up so we can land a few more punches before Mick decides he’s had enough.
We fuck this guy’s face up, and Colin lands the final blow before Mick stops us.
“Not here. My daughter’s here. I won’t have this take place in front of her. Take him out back.”
Finn’s wicked grin erupts as he hauls the man to his feet, dragging him to the back exit of the bar.
“Your mother sucked my dick earlier,” the bruised man says through a mouth full of blood.
Anger takes over and I charge for the guy. Colin’s big arms wrap around me, rooting me in place. “We got this man. Go chill out.”
I glare into his eyes after he releases his hold on me. When someone talks about my mother, I lose it. God rest her soul.
Everyone knows this, and they also know I don’t stop until the other person either winds up in the hospital or a grave.
I take a deep breath when Rory pats my back. “Let’s get another drink. Colin and Finn will take good care of that piece of shit.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I sit back on the barstool, glancing around the club once more at the sinkholes, wondering which one will be sucking my cock later.
The redhead is back to grinding her ass all over Crawl, and my mind’s made up.
I walk over to where Crawl drools over her tits in his face.
Wrapping my fist in her hair, I lower my mouth to her ear. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” I whisper against her leathery skin.
She climbs off his lap, a slow smile spreading across her face.
“Ah, come on man,” Crawl growls.
“Grab the blonde grinding up on Patrick. You know his ass is too haunted to fuck anyone tonight.”
Crawl leans back, slapping the redhead’s ass as we walk away.
Her low-cut tank rides high on her stomach, showing off her tattoo on her hip. A road sign stating ‘Slippery When Wet’ with an arrow pointing to her pussy is etched on her skin. Too bad I won’t be traveling that way tonight. This girl will suck me off and that’s it.
3
Rory
Mick and Fallon left without a word, guess I’m not on escort duty tonight. Liam disappeared with some redheaded chick. God knows where her mouth has been - hope she doesn’t make his dick fall off.
My knee restlessly bounces as I look around the room. I’m going stir crazy tonight, and I know it’s because I didn’t get to drive Fallon back to school. But, I don’t like admitting that’s the reason. I slide off the bar stool and wander to the back of the clubhouse. Colin and Finn never came back. I want to make sure they’re not getting too carried away with this guy. We don’t need a corpse to dispose of right now with Liam’s ex, Audrey, sniffing around.
The “shed,” as we call the smaller building out back, is where we do any interrogation that needs to happen. I punch in the code on the keypad and push the door open.
They’ve got the dude strapped to a chair with leather restraints, his hands fastened behind his back. His right eye is swollen almost shut. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth and drips onto his white t-shirt.
“How goes it boys?” I ask my younger brothers as I stop in front of our new pal.
“He hasn’t squealed like the pig he is yet, but we’re working on it.”
I crack my knuckles one at a time and flex my fingers. “I’m going to step in here boys and show you how it’s done.” I study the different weapons spread out on the long table in the middle of the room. Which one is speaking to me tonight? I let my hand hover over each one as I walk around the table. “Talk to me, Goose,” I joke. Colin and Finn chuckle, immediately getting the movie reference. They watch while I make my selection. “Ah, here we go. Look at this beaut.” Hand carved from maple, it’s a favorite of mine. It has a nice heft to it, and the grip is comfortable. I tap the floor with the tip like it’s home plate at the baseball field and then take a practice swing. The air whooshes as the bat cuts through it.
I point the bat at Gunner before pointing it across the room. “How far do you think your head would travel if I knocked it off your body?” I ask, moving closer. “Don’t worry, hombre. I’m not going to start with your head.” I lift the bat over my shoulder and then swing it down as hard as I can smashing his thigh. The sound of femur bone snapping echoes through the open space followed by his godawful screams.
Standing in front of him, I tap the bat into my palm. It’s my very own version of Lucille, from the Walking Dead. No barbed wire but she gets the job done.
“What the fuck are you in our territory for?” I ask, my voice deceptively calm as I trail the bat down his other thigh. “This is your last chance. I’m not going to waste my time.” I press the end of the bat against his chest. “Squeal, piggy, squeal,” I say. Colin and Finn laugh, but my expression remains ice cold.
“The Devil’s Way wants to meet with you,” he shrieks, his tone of voice getting higher with every word.
“Who requested this meeting?” I nudge his chest with the bat.
“Black,” he grits out between clenched teeth, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Tyler or Vince?” I question.
“Tyler,” he replies, his voice labored with pain.
Tyler is the son of Vince Black, President of Devil’s Way, a rival gang of ours. They’ve been encroaching on our territory for as long as I’ve been a member. Those fuckers need to be shut down, once and for all. Every time we turn around, they’re doing something to put the screws to us. We can’t even take a piss without them watching.
“Boys, you know what to do about our friend here.” I place the bat on the table and head to the door. “Oh, one more thing, hombre.” I run my hand over my hair covered jawline, “If any of us see you in our territory again, we’re going to cut you into little pieces and ship you back to the Devil’s Way in a box. Is that clear enough for you?” My deep voice echoes around the space.
“Yes,” he groans.
/>
Patrick and I end up at Foxy Secrets, the nearby strip club owned by Aces and Eights. I was bored and needed the distraction of some gorgeous tits and ass. Now that I’m here, I’m not feeling it.
I throw a hundred dollar bill down on the table in front of Kristin, a sexy blonde. “Give him your best lap dance.” I gesture with my chin toward Patrick.
He shakes his head, and I give him the older brother look. The one that says shut the fuck up and do what I say. God knows his dick needs some attention from someone other than him.
Kristin pulls him up by his hand and leads him to a back room. I smirk. Mr. Neat and Tidy is about to get a happy ending.
My eyes scan the room, taking in all the half naked bodies moving sensually to the music. Some of these girls are flexible enough to be contortionists in Cirque du Soleil. Watching them shake their asses is doing nothing for me. My dick is dormant. Not a single twitch and there are some hot as fuck women working here.
My thoughts stray to Fallon. I picture her lying on my bed, wearing nothing but tiny red panties. My dick instantly comes alive.
Did Mick get her back to her dorm room safe and sound? Maybe she’s out with some dude who goes to college with her. She better not fucking be. I can’t have her, but that doesn’t mean I want anyone else to. I run my hands through my shaggy hair. She had a boyfriend last year, and they were together for about nine months. Knowing he was fucking her was enough to gut me. It was all I could do to keep myself from breaking his fingers and cutting off his dick. Then he wouldn’t have been able to touch her soft skin or slide inside her hot pussy. Fuck.
How will I ever be able to deal with her getting married?
When Patrick comes back to the table, his hair is messed up and his cheeks are flushed. Mission accomplished. I may not have gotten my dick wet, but, I’m happy Patty boy did.
We stayed until closing, drinking too much. Good thing Foxy’s is only a mile from the clubhouse. I’m too shitfaced to drive back to my house, and we definitely shouldn’t be riding our bikes. I stagger into one of the crash pad bedrooms we have specifically for this reason. We also use them to fuck.
I don’t bother turning on the light while I peel my clothes from my body and slip between the cool sheets. I must be going crazy, this bed smells like Fallon. My dick goes hard as soon as I think of her. Goddammit. Can’t I have one night where she doesn’t takeover my mind?
I stretch out in the bed, and my arm meets another person. What the fuck?
I sit up. There’s enough light coming through the window for me to make out the curvy female shape under the comforter. I lean over and pull the covers down, revealing Fallon sound asleep on her side. She’s facing away from me, and she’s wearing a large black t-shirt with the Aces & Eights logo on the back. It’s bunched up around her waist, revealing tiny white panties. The material is so sheer I can make out the crack of her ass, and it’s all I can do not to tear them off and slide my cock into the temptation of that dark crease. Oh fuck. Would it be wrong to jerk myself off right now? She’s sound asleep and wouldn’t know.
I wrap my fingers around my thick cock and bite my lip to remain silent. Squeezing it tight in my fist, I slowly stroke up and down. Before I can stop myself, my other hand reaches out, caressing the curve of her hip and then cups one of her ass cheeks. Fuck this. I can’t take anymore, and the alcohol I’ve consumed isn’t helping matters any. I’m sure I’ll regret this tomorrow, but, for now, all I can think of is if her pussy is as tight as I imagine.
I roll toward her and wrap an arm around her stomach, my fingers swiftly climbing up under her shirt to cup a full tit in my hand. Tugging on her nipple, I press my dick against her ass, rubbing back and forth along the soft material. I could easily come just doing this.
She moans in her sleep. It’s so sexy; I need to hear it again. I release her tit and move my hand down to the top of her panties. I can’t go any further without her knowing what I’m doing.
“Fallon,” my voice is a deep rumble in the darkness. She stirs slightly. “Fallon,” I repeat, my fingertips teasing, sliding back and forth at the top edge of her panties.
“Hmm,” she sleepily murmurs, arching her back. Her ass cushions my hard cock, testing my limits - I’m not a patient man.
“Fallon,” I growl in her ear.
I feel her wake in my arms. She turns her head, peering over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are huge in her small face and filled with confusion. I know she’s about to go off on me, and I don’t want that. Gripping her chin, I connect our mouths and roll her onto her back. Our tongues instantly search for each other, rubbing and caressing, before retreating and teasing. I slip an arm under her back, pulling her tighter to my chest. I press my cock along her slit, grinding against her. We moan into each other’s mouths, and our lips never lose contact. Her tongue tentatively dances around mine before becoming more aggressive.
I pull my mouth away from hers and study her reaction as my hand slips inside her panties. My fingers trail down through the heat of her dripping wet slit. Fuck me. I want to sink my dick inside her so bad - so hard.
I want to fuck her into tomorrow and the next day too.
I push two fingers inside her pussy and find her even tighter than I imagined. I can’t fuck her, but I can make her come harder than she ever has.
She rocks against my hand. “You like that, baby?” I question.
“Yes,” she moans, pushing her hips up.
“I’m going to make you come now,” I whisper against her lips before my tongue licks along the plump curve of her bottom one.
She jumps, then moans when my thumb stretches forward, pressing on her clit.
“Am I the first person to touch this pussy?” I ask, my voice hoarse. I slowly draw circles around it with the pad of my thumb and hold my breath while I wait for her answer.
“No,” she moans.
Motherfucker. I want to kill the bastard who’s been here first.
Picking up the pace, I fuck her pussy with my fingers. I’m going to make her forget about anyone who came before me.
Her hips find the perfect rhythm to match my thrusting fingers. “Come on, baby.” I lay wet kisses up the column of her neck and then suck on the skin below her ear. “I want to feel this pussy tremble for me. Show me how much you like my fingers fucking you.” Tugging her head back, with my hand in her hair, I trace my tongue along the curve of her ear. “Next time it’s going to be my dick inside you.”
She bites her lip.
“I bet you’d like to be filled with nine inches of my cock. Wouldn’t you?” I growl the question and pinch her clit between my fingers. Rubbing and snapping the swollen flesh, I cover her mouth with mine as it drops open in a silent scream when she comes. She bucks against my hand as our tongues clash. My cock is ready to burst, and I almost do when I feel her soft, warm hand close around it. Pulling my mouth from hers, I gasp for air.
She moves her hand up and down. Her motions are tentative. I close my hand around hers. “I won’t break, baby. Stroke me harder.”
She stares into my eyes seeking approval as she does what I tell her. “Good girl.” I nod and groan. “That’s so fucking good, Fallon. Don’t stop, baby.” Don’t. Ever. Fucking. Stop.
I can’t hold my orgasm off any longer. Having her hands on me after all this time is too much. I grit my teeth to keep from shouting her name as I come. No one can know she’s in here with me. No one can ever know what we just did.
My breaths are harsh in the quiet of the room. Reaching over the side of the bed, I grab my shirt from the floor. “You can wipe off on this,” I tell her.
Fuck. Now that I’ve touched her, I don’t know how I’ll keep my distance.
She cleans her hand, handing the shirt back to me. Rubbing away the come from my stomach, I throw the shirt back on the floor.
Leaning forward, I place a gentle kiss on her lips. “Come here.” I pull her onto my chest and she cuddles into me. “Let’s go to sleep, and when we wake up we can pr
etend this never happened.”
Of course, she’s gone in the morning, no surprise there. I imagined this very scenario, but I’m still disappointed I didn’t get the pleasure of waking up with her in my arms. But, maybe that’s for the best. Waking up with her would be dangerous for me. It would make me wish for things I can never have. She deserves better than someone who breaks legs for a living. She’s a good girl - a white picket fence kind of girl. I’m a leather wearing, bike riding, bat wielding barbarian. The two aren’t meant to be together - but we’ll always have last night.
4
Liam
The sun crashes in through the window like a bat out of hell.
The sun must be pissed at me or something. I groan and roll over, noticing the naked body lying next to me. Face down, the sinkhole from last night sleeps soundly.
I slap her ass. “Hey, time to go.”
She moans and swats my hand away.
“I said time to go, sweetheart,” I say, swatting her ass a little harder this time.
She flips over, her red hair stuck to the side of her face. She doesn’t appear happy, and I’m already annoyed. “Good morning to you too,” she spits out, sarcastically.
I roll my eyes and get off the bed and head into the bathroom of my home away from home. This little crash pad on the compound has seen more action than I’d like to admit.
My phone buzzes on the side table, and I hope when I’m done getting ready the sinkhole is gone.
Scrubbing my face and teeth, I pick up my phone once I leave the bathroom. The redhead has left, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“What?” I bark into the phone.
“That asshole from last night said Tyler wanted a meeting with us.” My brother Rory sounds anxious. Something’s up.
“Tyler from Devil’s Way?” I’m trying to catch up to speed, but my mind is still spinning on the fact Audrey has been all over our route.
“Yeah. Pres’s called a meeting in fifteen.”
“I’m on my way.”
“That’s fucking bullshit,” I shout at Patrick.
“Calm down, Liam.” Rory’s tone is unsettling, but I calm a bit.