Break Me In: A Biker Romance Serial (The Devil's Host Motorcycle Club Book 2)

by Shari Slade

  Break Me In

  Part 2 of the Devil’s Host MC Serial

  Shari Slade

  Break Me In

  “Do you get what you deserve?”

  Under his hands or on the back of his bike—the freedom I feel with Noah is an illusion.

  “No, baby. You get what you take and you keep what you can hold.”

  He ties me to him with fear and obligation and lust. Binds us tighter with his twisted sense of honor. I just hope his chains are strong enough to keep me safe.

  *

  BREAK ME IN is Part 2 of 5. The wildly erotic journey starts with RIDE ME HARD. These are short, hot reads, sure to leave you panting for more.

  *

  Sign up for Shari Slade’s newsletter to stay up-to-date on all the latest releases, happenings, and events.

  Dedication

  For Lizard, who listens.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Want More Alpha Hero Hotness Right Now?

  A Sexy Excerpt from Three Nights with a Rock Star

  More Books by Shari Slade

  Devil’s Host MC Serial Playlist

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  I look back at my garage apartment one last time and worry for a second that I’ll turn into a pillar of salt right here in the driveway.

  The busted front door hangs crooked from the hinges at the top of the rickety steps. Noah did that in his rush to have me. It’s a stunning display of devastation and desire. As I walk toward Noah’s bike, I picture my landlord’s face, purple with rage, when he discovers the destruction. I wonder if he’ll think something terrible happened to me or if he’ll just be happy I’m gone. The bastard. I should’ve known anyone who’d rent to a teenager with no references, no bank account and no security deposit was probably not someone who’d value my privacy or honor the terms of a lease. God, I hadn’t even known I was supposed to have a lease.

  But I’d managed. And he hadn’t even started to give me a hard time about anything until I realized that he wasn’t supposed to come and go from my place as he pleased. When I finally asked him for a lease last year, he’d laughed in my face. The next time I brought him the rent a few hours late, he’d already printed an eviction notice. I got the message loud and clear: there’d be no more second chances.

  I can almost feel the lump of cash I’d slipped from my coffee can on the way out the door burning like a hot coal in my bag. Not quite enough for the rent due next week. Nowhere near enough for first and last on a new place.

  Certainly not enough to buy my freedom. There’s never enough for that, no matter how many shifts I work.

  Sure, I’ve managed. But I haven’t done much more than that. Almost three years in that shithole and now I’m not managing at all. It’s probably stupid and dangerous to have all my cash with me, but there isn’t a chance in hell I’ll leave it behind.

  I don’t know when I’ll be back. If I’ll be back. But most of all, I don’t know why I stayed so long.

  “It’s not too late to strip you naked again and throw you over my shoulder. Get your sweet ass on this bike.” Noah says but I don’t falter.

  “Does a topless ride through town earn me anything extra? Is there a rate card somewhere I can consult?” I slip behind him.

  Stone adjusts his sunglasses. “She’s a fucking handful.”

  Noah reaches back and claps a hand on my leg, digs his fingers into the thin denim stretched over my generous thigh, and squeezes. “More than.”

  I know by the sureness of his touch and the pleasure in his voice that it’s a compliment.

  Noah and Stone both rev their engines in the driveway, but we don’t pull away. The sound is loud and forbidding, two snarling beasts, and I see a few blinds snap open across the street. This isn’t the kind of neighborhood where people will help if there’s trouble, but they’ll peek through their curtains and maybe call the cops if it looks like someone is loading a TV into the back of a shady truck.

  They’ll leave me to my fate, though. If they even notice at all. It’s not like I’m a brand-new flat screen.

  It’s still better than the neighborhood I grew up in. In that kind of neighborhood people stay far away from the windows if they think there’s trouble. One like where Harry lives now. Or lived. Shit, where the hell is that son of a bitch? I feel the butt of Noah’s gun through his jacket and shiver. People sure as shit don’t call for help in neighborhoods like that. Help only ever makes things worse. They call for revenge, street justice, the kind found tucked into the waistband of Noah’s jeans.

  A car the color of my landlord’s caddy slows down as it rolls by, and I squeeze closer to Noah, press my face into the leather stretched across his back and take a steadying breath. “Get me out of here.”

  Before he comes home for an early lunch raving about destruction of property or disorderly conduct and tells me not to come back. I don’t say any of that out loud because I’m not ready to seal my fate just yet. I know I may not have a home to come back to, but Noah doesn’t need to know that.

  I swallow down the please that’s ready to trip off my tongue. I don’t have to ask him to do something I already know he’s going to do.

  “It’s cute how you think you’re calling the shots.” Noah says.

  He’s taking me out of here as payment for a debt. And for my own good. Supposedly to protect me from Stone. I study the man beside us out of the corner of my eye. He and Noah are two sides of the same coin, large and intimidating, covered in ink and leather.

  But Noah makes me feel safe, even when I’m terrified. And as much as he warns me not to trust him, I can’t help it. He saved me from Officer Wade. He’s protected me with his fists and shielded me with his body. He’s the devil I know.

  I curl my fingers around his belt buckle. “Does it cost you anything to let me pretend I’ve got a little control?”

  He laughs. “That kind of delusion is expensive, but I think I can afford it.”

  We lurch, and then the tires grip the road and we’re off.

  Wrapped around him, flying through the streets on the back of his motorcycle with nothing between me and a fiery death on the pavement but the wind and a promise…I’ve never felt more alive.

  Chapter Two

  I’m surprised when we slow down after only forty-five minutes. For some reason I’d expected the drive to be long, imagined wherever we were going had to be far, far away. As if we were in some demented fairy tale. My black knight on his black horse whisking me off to a darker realm. But we’re just two towns over. Two exits beyond the bypass choking the life out of Jimmy’s Diner.

  A blip on the map. More of the same.

  We pull into a run-down strip mall. A Laundromat props up one end, with a handful of patrons visible through the foggy window. A curl of fabric-softener-scented steam drifts beyond the front door and overpowers the leather and exhaust surrounding me. Next to the Laundromat is a tiny pet store, long closed. All in Pawn seems to be doing well with its neon OPEN sign and sleek music equipment on display. Somebody’s dream deferred or abandoned for God knows what. A rent check, a sick kid… And Patty’s Clip ’n’ Curl props up the other end. Pink paint
peels off the brick facade, making me think of makeup left on overnight.

  Stone hops off his bike. “You take Luca, and I’ll go see Patty. Let’s do this quick. I want to head back to the club sooner rather than later. The longer Dev waits, the more fucked-up he gets.”

  Noah doesn’t make a move. “I’m not taking her into Luca’s.”

  “It’s a pawn shop, not a porn studio.”

  “He’s a pig. The last time I collected there, I had to break his nose.”

  “This time shouldn’t be a problem then, but leave her to wait by the bikes if you’re worried.”

  “You got a leash on you? I’ll just tie her to the handle bar while we go do our business.” Noah’s voice drips with sarcasm, but Stone doesn’t seem to care. A mistake on Stone’s part, for sure.

  Stone leans in close to me and rests his hand on my shoulder. I force myself not to jerk away. “You’re not going anywhere, are you, kitten? You know what would happen—”

  And then Noah is moving. He’s a wall of angry muscle, and I hang on to the bike to keep from getting hauled along with him. “Hands. Off. Unless you want to lose them.”

  Stone raises both offending hands palms out and backs away slowly, grinning ear to ear. “Come on, brother. You got yourself a taste this morning. Patty’s real friendly. And real grateful for our protection.”

  “Maybe if you knew her name wasn’t actually Patty, I’d let you take this one. Patty was her grandmother, you dipshit.”

  Stone sneers. “Sorry, we don’t have coffee and chat about extended family.”

  “Attention to detail, brother. Pay enough and it’ll get you laid. Too little and it’ll get you dead. Look around. It’s a Saturday morning. There should be a line of old ladies here to get their weekend frizz on. What’s up with that?”

  “There’s a sale on Ensure at the A&P?”

  Noah shakes his head. “Go bang on Luca until some change falls out.” Then he turns to me. “Come on, baby. You want to get your hair done?”

  The question is so ridiculous I don’t even know how to respond. “What? Why?”

  “No customers means no money in the register. She’s gotta pay one way or another, and I’m not having her do for me what Stone was after.”

  “You mean sex.”

  He nods.

  “If I wasn’t with you?”

  He runs a hand through his dark hair and smirks. “I wouldn’t be getting a trim.”

  Bells tinkle above the door as we enter the shop, and a dark-haired woman in her thirties peers over her magazine. Her lips are so chapped it looks painful. When she licks them nervously, I understand why. “That time again already?”

  “Where’d all your customers go, Kristi?”

  “Luca’s been causing some trouble. I don’t think he’s very discriminating about the type of merchandise he’s willing to buy lately. It brings the wrong sort of clientele to the mall. There’s times I don’t even want to cross the parking lot by myself, but what’s a girl to do?”

  “You could’ve called. This is the kind of shit we’re here for. Protection.”

  Her face twists in confusion. “Dev came by and told me to keep my mouth shut and my eyes on my magazines. I’m doing it, but damn. I don’t just pay you bastards. The bank’s on my ass too, and they won’t take a blow job in payment.” Her pretty brown eyes fill with tears that don’t fall, and she twirls a manicured hand at the empty salon. “Wouldn’t my nana be so proud?”

  “Your nana was a good woman who did what needed to be done to provide for you. She was a friend of the club, and that means something.”

  “But Dev—”

  “I’ll take care of him. Now take care of Star. Whatever she wants. If I’m going to tell the brothers they need to send their old ladies up here, we need to sample the merchandise.”

  He nudges me forward, and I squirm under their scrutiny. “Maybe just a trim. I haven’t had one of those in a while.”

  “Honey, your split ends have split ends.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  Kristi looks from me to Noah and back again and purses her sore lips. “Yeah, I get that.”

  Warm water rushes over my scalp, soaking my hair. I scoot back farther in the reclining chair, letting my head fall deeper into the shampoo bowl so the water doesn’t run down the back of my neck.

  “Too hot?” Kristi asks, pulling the stream away.

  “No, it’s perfect. I was just getting comfortable.”

  Kristi lifts the bulk of my hair and directs the spray underneath. “You relax. I’ll take good care of you.”

  “Mhmmm,” I murmur as she works up a coconut-scented lather. Her touch is brisk and efficient. In minutes I’m reduced to jelly. I wonder if it would be too forward to ask her to work her magic on the small of my back. “That feels so nice. I don’t think there’s anything more decadent than having someone wash your hair.”

  Then her tight circles are replaced by broad strokes, and I gasp. My eyes flutter open, and Noah is hovering over me.

  “The noises you were making? All those mmms and aaahs? I only want to hear them if I’m the one wringing them out of your body.” He glides soapy fingers along my neck and trails them over my collar bone. Cool water runs down my breasts, soaking my shirt and tightening my nipples. My cheeks burn and I squeeze my eyes shut.

  “I’ll take a break in the back room. Don’t forget the conditioner.” Kristi says.

  “Don’t go far.” Noah grunts and continues massaging me, working his way ever so slowly back to my scalp.

  The spray starts back up, and I hear a break in the stream before it lands on my soapy tresses. The realization that he checked the temperature warms me more than the water.

  “I’m not going to fuck you here, Star. Not in Kristi’s shop. She’s put up with enough. But I had to get my hands on you again. If anyone is making you feel good, I want it to be me.” He tugs my hair, pulling me taut, and flicks his tongue over my mouth. I feel deprived and pleased all at once. There are things he’s not willing to do, boundaries he won’t cross. More ways to pay than just with a body. “I’m going to have some words with Luca. I’ll be back to collect you.”

  I wonder if words means broken bones. I wonder but I don’t ask, because Kristi is back with her magic fingers and a rich conditioner. I’m careful not to make a sound, though. Not because it doesn’t feel good, but because Noah made it clear. All my moans belong to him.

  I can give him that.

  Chapter Three

  We pull into a fenced lot and park next to a long line of bikes in front of a warehouse. I assume it’s a warehouse with its corrugated metal walls and windows up near the roofline.

  Noah’s muscles are tense. He’d softened under my touch on the road, but here, he’s wound up tight. I run my palms over his back in soothing circles, let my fingers play over the patches stitched to the leather and wait for him to make a move.

  Stone gets off his bike first. “Give me your phone, Romeo.”

  Noah slips his phone out of a pocket inside his jacket and tosses it to Stone.

  Stone drops it on the ground and slams his boot heel into the shiny screen. It’s a sick crunch, and plastic pieces fly everywhere. Noah growls. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Saving your ass. Again. Now you can tell Dev your phone is busted. You’re welcome.”

  Noah scoops up the biggest pieces and presses them into my hand. “Hang on to these for me. There’s a SIM card in there somewhere.”

  I follow them toward the building’s entrance. A large dog lopes near us but Noah snaps his fingers and it turns away. Muted sounds filter out beyond the door, and my belly flips. I can’t tell if that’s music or shouting. I have no idea what’s on the other side. A drug empire? A sweatshop? Dog fights? Sex slaves?

  My mind races, trying to fill in blanks I can hardly imagine, and I clutch the broken bits of plastic like they’re a talisman against chaos. The jagged edges bite into my palm, but the pain keeps me focused. I squ
eeze harder and yelp when I break the skin.

  Noah whirls around, eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”

  Stone pushes through the door, but I can’t see past Noah’s broad body.

  “Nothing.” I transfer the pieces to my other hand and hold up my palm to show him just how much nothing it is. Only a small cut. But he reacts like I’ve sliced off a finger. He knocks the rest of the phone to the ground, wraps a hand around my wrist, and pulls me close to study the wound.

  “You hurt yourself.” His eyes flash fire, and his voice is a clenched fist, seething and restrained.

  I don’t understand his response at all, but I need to. I need to understand the rules of his world, this dark realm. “You’re angry?”

  “Nobody hurts what’s mine. Not even you.”

  The arrogance. I bristle. How can he possibly… “My body is still my own.”

  He pulls me closer and presses his mouth to the cut on my hand. With his head bent, the gesture is almost sweet, kissing it better. Then wet heat slicks across the scrape, sending shocks up my arm and straight down to my clit. It’s lewd and filthy, and I never want him to stop.

  “This is mine,” he whispers against my skin, and then his other hand is between my legs, cupping my sex roughly. “This too, especially when we’re on my bike or in this club, every inch of you belongs to me. Got it?”

  He’s squeezing me through my jeans while he runs his lips and tongue over my wrist like an animal marking its territory. I wonder if he’ll mark me lower—use his mouth instead of his hand—out here in the empty parking lot. Then I wonder how long the parking lot stays empty, and my whole body flushes hot when I realize I don’t care.

  The pleasure is sharp—I’m still so sensitive it’s almost painful—and then it stops. It takes me a second to realize he’s waiting for an answer. “God, yes.”

  Of course yes. The only answer is yes out here in the middle of nowhere with a junkyard dog wandering the perimeter. Isn’t it? I wonder what he’d do if I said no. Drive me back to the apartment I’m probably evicted from and dump me on the curb? Throw me over his shoulder and haul me into the club anyway? I flush even hotter because…yes to that too.