Snake (The Road Rebels MC Book 3)

by Savannah Rylan

  Then, I wanted to sit down with her myself. I had so many things I wanted to know about her. How had she been? What had she been up to all these years? Had her mother finally kicked the can? Because that bitch needed to.

  She was a fucking piece of work.

  I wanted to know where her life had taken her and what brought her back. Or what kept her here and why she was now in some seedy bar on the outskirts of Vegas. I wanted to know why the hell she was entertaining this little fuck’s attention and why she hadn’t already given him her telltale stare before she rejected his soppy little dick.

  A thick woman like her needed a cock, not a twig. Her thighs could gobble up some four-inch pathetic little dick in a heartbeat. She needed a thick piece of girth that could penetrate her walls. Touch her in places and make her feel things she couldn’t reach herself. I bet his fucking cock wasn’t enough to tease her clit.

  Holy hell, how I missed sucking on her clit.

  The way she moved and gyrated against me. The way her tits bounced when she rode my cock. The way her thighs squeezed my cheeks and coated half of my face in her arousal. She was the only woman I’d never cleaned myself up from. I’d lay there with half my body covered in her and the other half covered in sweat. I’d wake up smelling like come and sex, and the only thing I would do is roll over, slide my dick into her warmth, and wake her up with a mind-blowing orgasm.

  No woman said my name in bed like she did.

  No woman held my attention like she could.

  But the fight we had that ended things got out of hand. Accusations were made, and names were thrown. She called me a bastard, and I called her a bitch. She accused me of being a liar and being manipulative, and I fucking told her she was turning into her mother. I was out for blood with that fight, and I knicked her jugular.

  I could still remember the pain and shock in her eyes just before her hand cracked my cheek.

  In a rush of fury, I’d grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from my face. I walked her out onto my porch, tossed her onto her feet, and slammed the door behind her. That was the thing about Laiken and I. We could have some intense conversations, make some intense love, and then have some intense fighting sessions. Voices would raise, and fingers would get pointed. Accusations would get thrown until we finally got to the bottom of the issue. Then we would sit down with a few beers, get a little tipsy, and really talk shit out.

  Then I’d fuck her on every surface her pussy could take until she ran dry and her eyes glazed over.

  As much as an ass I felt after our fight, part of me knew I needed to push her away. My life was fucked up right now. Shit with the DEA and The Devil Saints was getting heated. War was on the horizon, and the government was lurking in the shadows. Things were about to blow sky high, and I didn’t want her near any of it.

  Just like I didn’t want her near it when we were dating.

  She was right. At least partially. When she was graduating college, I was just solidifying myself in The Road Rebels. I had just been accepted into the club before I’d met her, and things started hot and heavy between us. There was no dating or lead up. No pointless flirting or her twirling her finger in her hair. We met at a bar that openly served to the under aged, I took her home, and then she just... kept coming over. When she wanted my cock when she wanted her pussy licked. When she needed a breather from her mother or when she wanted a warm body to lie next to.

  Eventually, I was seeking her out just as much as she was me. That was when things got real between us. That was when I realized she had sunk me.

  It only made sense I would see her in a bar now. After six or seven years of dreaming about her luscious tits and her pillowy frame, it would only make sense that we’d find each other here.

  In a bar.

  The type of place where we first met.

  I couldn’t get her wrapped up in my shit. No matter how much I wanted to beat the hell out of Mr. Baby Face, I had to stay put. This shit with the Saints was getting serious. So serious that the DEA had become the least of our worries.

  At this point, most of us would elect to go to prison if it meant keeping our lives out of Beast’s hands.

  So, I stayed put. I watched that random asshole pull smiles from Laiken I hadn’t seen in years. I watched him move closer to her, his hand trying to cop a feel on her thigh. I squeezed my hand around my beer bottle, watching the entire scene unfold. I watched him try to convince her to order another drink. I watched them flirt for a little while. I watched her eyes sparkle as they talked about whatever mindless piece of bullshit Mr. Small Dick had picked to talk about.

  I couldn’t believe Laiken was falling for this guy’s trick.

  It pissed me off even more that she was reciprocating his happiness. How they talked like old friends or some type of bullshit. I downed my beer and signaled to the bartender for another one, then went back to watching the show unfold in front of me.

  A show I should be a part of instead of on the sidelines for.

  Then, I saw the guy grab Laiken’s hand. My beer stopped halfway to my lips as I watched her curl her hand around his. My vision melted with red as I chugged my beer. Who the hell did that boy think he was touching? What the fuck gave him the right to touch her? Did he seriously know what the hell he was getting into? The type of things she enjoyed? Was he really going to know how to lick that clit like I could? Pound that pussy like I could? Would he be able to make her scream like I could?

  I had to put an end to this bullshit, and I had to do it now.

  Slamming my empty beer bottle onto the bar counter, it shattered. Everyone looked over at me, Mr. Asshole included. Laiken slowly turned her head as I slid from the shadows, her body poised to attack whoever was about to emerge.

  I caught her stare as I emerged from the darkness, and I watched the shock roll over her face. I watched her blink rapidly, like she was trying to convince herself I was real. She swiveled around in her chair as the guy behind her locked his eyes on me, but my gaze was elsewhere. My gaze was locked on the beautiful hazel eyes that had haunted my dreams for years. My gaze was lingering on the body of a woman I’d tried to forget and relive time and time again.

  My gaze was on the lips of the only woman I’d found who could swallow my dick whole.

  There was no going back now. She knew I was here and she knew I had seen her. I watched her breathing pick up, her chest moving slightly faster than what it had been before. Her cheeks flushed red, and her eyes scanned my body, lingering along my arms as my veins bulged from my muscles.

  She always did have a thing for my arms.

  Then, my eyes hooked onto Laiken’s hand. I waited for that asshole to drop his grip. To let go of her and know that she was already taken. Already guarded. Already protected. I waited for him to put his hands up and back off like the smart guy he looked to be.

  But instead, I watched that man grip her hand tighter.

  This was not going to happen tonight. Not if I had anything to do about it. Laiken might be pissed at me, and she might slap me across the face again, but she would thank me later. Thank me for not allowing her standards to slip just because she’d had a hard day.

  And that’s all I wanted, in the end. For her to always have the best.

  Even if that meant passing me by.

  Chapter 8

  Laiken

  Even though I was still comparing this man to Jace, it felt nice to have his fingers threaded with mine. It had been hard to be with other men since losing him, and for a while there I wasn’t sure I could stomach it. When I left for Los Angeles, I compared everyone to Jace. Their body types. The color of their hair. The shape of their eyes. Everything from their height to their arm muscles was under my scrutiny, and I always found a way to say ‘no.’ I always found a reason to turn a man down who was hitting on me or wanting to pick me up.

  And it was all because they weren’t like Jace.

  I was enjoying talking to Devon. I was enjoying how his hand felt encased in mine. It had
been so long since I’d felt the body of a man up against my chest, and the more he smiled at me, the more I was ready for it. I was ready for Devon to take me in his arms, sway with me on the dance floor, and whisper sweet nothings in my ear.

  That was another thing Jace never did. He never whispered how beautiful I was in my ear.

  He said it between my legs or growled it at me when he was fucking me, but that was it. Jace was primal to his core, but sometimes a woman enjoyed romance. Not over the top bullshit, like flowers every week or jewelry I would never wear. But sometimes, just being told I was beautiful out of nowhere sent shivers up my spine.

  Devon tried to help me slide from my seat, but the shattering of glass at the bar caused me to halt.

  I turned at the sound and readied myself for action. I recognized that sound. It was the sound of a beer bottle crashing against the bar. And whenever that happened, a fight was about to go down. I’d broken up more drunken rodeos in my career than I cared to admit, and I poised myself for action. I started clocking everything around the room I could use as a weapon. The glass in my hand. The knife in my back pocket. The half-empty beer bottles on the table behind me.

  I saw someone shifting in the shadows before the figure emerged.

  And when he did, I gulped.

  He had a small beard that covered his face, but I’d know those eyes anywhere. Brown eyes with hunter green around the irises. His six-foot-four frame emerged from the shadows, encased in cigarette smoke as glass clanked behind him. His chiseled jawline was set in anger as his eyes hooked onto the man behind me. His arms were hanging at his sides, bulging with veins and muscles that were toned and strong.

  I felt my knees weakening as I stood to my feet.

  Jace was walking right towards me.

  I felt Devon grip my hand as he pressed himself flush against my back. I could see anger flaring in Jace’s eyes, and I tried to pull away from the man. Jace was a tick and a half away from losing it, and I didn’t want anyone getting hurt. He had no right to be angry. He had no right to think he could somehow control this scenario.

  But I knew the anger he was capable of, and I wanted to tread lightly.

  “Laiken, is everything okay?” Devon asked

  “Just follow my lead,” I said.

  Jace stalked towards us, and my mind conjured images I hadn’t seen in years. Images of his hands digging into my hips. Images of him plowing into me from behind. I could remember the first time he’d picked me up and pushed me against the wall. I’d fallen in love with his arms in that moment. The strength and power he had behind his body to pick a woman up of my girth was something that shook me to my core.

  My eyes lingered on his arms momentarily, just to relive the pleasure a millisecond longer.

  I watched Jace’s tongue dart out to lick his lips, and it sent shivers down my spine. I knew the things that tongue was capable of. The pleasure that coursed through my system every morning when he woke me up. Time and time again, I had opened my eyes to the warmth his tongue provided me. Snaking down my stomach and plunging between my thighs. His lips glistened with the spit of his mouth, and I thought about how good that wetness would feel against my skin.

  My gaze was being pulled down his form. No matter how much I wanted to look him in his eyes, I simply couldn’t. There was the smallest part of me that was filling with guilt. That was feeling ashamed of holding this man’s hand. In some weird way, I felt like I was about to cheat on Jace. Even though we hadn’t been together for years. Even though he’d thrown me out after a fight. Even though he’d accused me of turning into my mother.

  A part of me still hadn’t let this bastard go.

  I trailed my gaze down his legs and tried to suppress a grin. A memory flashed through my mind that almost made me laugh on the spot. It was my favorite memory of Jace, and it was the moment I’d fallen in love with his legs. We had just gotten done eating chicken wings I had cooked at his place. His father was passed out drunk, and his mother was working some late shift at work. I had offered to come over and cook, and he was adamant I not come. But I showed up anyway with chicken wings, buffalo sauce, and a cooling rack.

  His father had woken up in the middle of me cooking and started on some drunken rant about fat chicks. At least, I thought he’d woken up. His father was calling women who were fat ugly and lazy. Calling them things like ‘fat cock holders’ and ‘pieces of shit.’ It was the first time I’d ever seen Jace burst out in anger.

  It was also the only time I’d ever come close to crying in front of him.

  He went over to his father’s chair and kicked it. The back of the recliner fell all the way back, and his father howled in pain. His eyes sprung open as Jace turned off the stove, telling me to leave the shit there. He pulled me over to the door while his dad hollered about why the hell we’d woken him up and what the fuck Jace was doing kicking his chair and shit.

  That day was the first day I’d taken a ride on the back of Jace’s bike. The smell of freedom whipping through the air had dried my tears as he rode us into town. He took me to his favorite wing place and bought a massive plate for us to share. We ate in silence, eating our fill while drinking down beer I couldn’t convince him to let me pay for.

  And then I felt his foot scoot next to mine underneath the table.

  That same leg that kicked his father’s chair and had broken it. That same leg that had brought pain to a man who was talking bad about me was also the leg that brought me comfort underneath the table. That brought me stability when I was riding on the back of his bike.

  I fell in love with his legs that day.

  I slid my eyes up Jace’s body before I met his stare. He was standing in front of me, his face set in stone as his eyes drank me in. He made no effort to conceal the fact that his eyes were dancing around my body. Taking me in for the first time in years just like I had.

  “Laiken,” he said.

  “Jace,” I said.

  “Laiken, is this man bothering you?” Devon asked.

  I watched as Jace’s eyes ripped from mine and were tossed over my shoulder.

  “Funny. I was about to ask her the same question about you,” he said.

  Chapter 9

  Snake

  I had no idea what I was going to say to Laiken once I got to her, but I knew one thing was for certain. I wanted that man’s hands off of her, and I wanted it now. He didn’t deserve her, he wouldn’t be able to please her, and he should be thanking me. Rejection from Laiken was rough. I’d experienced it many times before, even while we were dating. If she didn’t want to have sex, there was no getting around it. If she didn’t like what you were doing, she would definitely let you know. The longer she was with me, the more confident she grew, but that confidence came with a price.

  And if I didn’t step in, this poor little sob story was going to figure that lesson out the hard way.

  As I emerged from the shadows, I could see Laiken’s eyes studying me. She was slowly letting them slide down my form, and if she was trying to hide it, she was doing a piss-poor job. I rolled my shoulders back and began to strut across the floor, taking my time as Mr. Asshat behind her took in my full form. He was lucky if he came up to my shoulder. A pathetic little existence for a man trying to take home a woman like Laiken. I grinned as Laiken’s eyes got to my legs because I knew exactly the memory they reminded her of.

  The night of the chicken wings.

  She thought I wasn’t romantic, but I was. I was just romantic in the way she needed. It was one of the many things she accused me of during our last fight. She told me I wasn’t romantic and didn’t give a shit about doing anything other than fucking her, and I informed her that I didn’t romance her because she didn’t need it. She didn’t like or want that kind of romance, so I gave her the romance she needed. Like those sly little leg rubs underneath the table or my fingertips slowly sneaking up her shirt. Not to get her to fuck me or sit on my cock, but just to feel her skin against mine.

  There was
no feeling in the world like it. There was no woman I’d taken home since her that could replicate that feeling. Only she had that feeling. And I wasn’t going to let just any man experience that with her.

  I stood in front of Laiken, and I allowed my eyes to travel over her body. I took in her sparkling hazel eyes and her shoulder-length blonde hair. She had lost a little weight from the last time I’d seen her. Her cheeks were a little more prominent, and her arms weren’t as thick at the top. But perched at my height and hovering over her like I was, I had the perfect view down her shirt.

  And her tits were as luscious as ever.

  “Laiken,” I said.

  “Jace.”

  “Laiken, is this man bothering you?”

  I looked into the eyes of the man standing behind her, his hand clamping down onto hers so hard his knuckles were turning white.

  “Funny, I was about to ask her the same question about you,” I said.

  “Do you know him?” the man asked.

  “Do you have a name?” I asked him.

  “Devon,” the man said.

  “Hello, Devon. I’m Sn-... Jace.”

  “Snuh-Jace,” he said, grinning. “An interesting name.”

  I was ready to lunge over her shoulder and wrap my hands around this cocky fucker’s neck. I knew his type. They played innocent to prey on women who weren’t sure whether or not they wanted to go home with someone, then they unleashed their fury. I could see the deviousness rolling around behind his eyes as Laiken kept her stare trained on me.

  There was no way in hell she was going home with this man. I’d follow them all the way there if it meant protecting her from this asshole.

  “I do know him,” she said as she looked back at Devon. “We’re… old friends.”