Final Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride Book 9)

by Chelsea Camaron

  I give them a half-salute as they close their doors and lock down for the night.

  Deacon heads on into our room. Always a man of few words and interaction, he doesn’t look back or give me any indication that he cares if I follow or stay behind.

  I give myself the same moment I take every night to stand out under the stars and smoke.

  I look up. Immediately, I can hear her tiny voice in my mind, making up constellations all her own. Raleigh was once a rambunctious little girl afraid of nothing. She loved the night sky and wishing upon all the stars.

  Another city, another life, I wish it was another time, but one thing I know is that there is no turning back time. If I could, I would. Not just for me, but for all six of us.

  I light my cigarette and take a deep drag. Inhaling, I hold it in my lungs before I blow out. The burn, the taste, and the touch of it to my lips don’t ease the thoughts in my mind. Another night is upon us, and it’s yet another night Raleigh will never come home.

  The receptionist from the hotel lobby steps out beside me. She isn’t the one who was here when we checked in earlier. However, when she smiles up at me, I can tell she has been waiting on us. Guess the trailer trash from day shift chatted up her replacement. Well, at least this one has nice teeth. Day shift definitely doesn’t have dental on her benefit plan here.

  “Go back inside,” I bark, not really in the mood for company.

  “I’m entitled to a break,” she challenges with a southern drawl.

  “If you want a night with a biker, I’m not the one,” I try to warn her off.

  “Harley, leather, cigarettes, and sexy—yeah, I think you’re the one … for tonight, that is.” She comes over and reaches out for the edges of my cut.

  I grab her wrists. “You don’t touch my cut,” I growl in frustration. She is playing with fire and seems to get off on it, biting her bottom lip with a sly smile.

  There is a rasp to her tone as she tries for seduction. “Oh, rules. I can play by the rules, big daddy.”

  I drop her hands and walk in a circle around her before standing in front of her then backing her toward the wall. I take another drag of my cigarette and blow the smoke into her face. “I’m not your fucking daddy.” I take another long drag. Smoke blows out with each word as I let her know, “If you wanna fuck, we’ll fuck. Make no mistake, though, I’m not in the mood to chat, cuddle, or kiss. I’ll fuck, and that’s it.”

  She leans her head back, testing me.

  “Hands against the wall,” I order, and she slaps her palms down loudly against the brick behind her, one at each side of her legs.

  Her chest rises and falls dramatically as her breathing increases. She keeps licking and biting her lips, her desperation showing. Why do women think this is a turn on? It’s not.

  “You want a ride on the wild side?”

  She nods, pushing her tits out at me. I’m a man, any release is better than no release.

  “You wet for me?” I ask, and she giggles while nodding. “If you want me to get hard and stay hard, you don’t fucking make a sound. That giggling shit is annoying as fuck.”

  Immediately, she snaps her mouth shut.

  I yank her shirt up and pull her bra over her titties without unhooking it. Her nipples point out in the cold night air.

  “You cold or is that for me?” I ask, flicking her nipple harshly.

  “You,” she whispers breathlessly.

  I yank the waistband of her stretchy pants down, pulling her panties with them. Her curls glisten with her arousal under the street light.

  With her pants at her ankles, I turn her around to face the wall. “Bend over, grab your ankles. You don’t speak, don’t touch me, and you don’t move. If you want a wild ride with a biker, I’m gonna give you one you’ll never forget.”

  While she positions herself, I grab a condom from my wallet and unbutton my four button jeans enough to release my cock. While stroking myself a few times to get fully erect, part of me considers just walking away. However, I’m a man with a dick, and pussy is pussy. No matter what my mood, it’s a place to sink into for a time.

  Covering myself carefully, I spread her ass cheeks and slide myself inside her slick cunt. The little whore is more than ready.

  I close my eyes and picture a dark-haired beauty with ink covering her arms and a tight cunt made just for me. I can almost hear the gravelly voice of my dream woman as she moans my name, pushing back to take me deeper, thrust after thrust.

  I roll my hips as the receptionist struggles to keep herself in position.

  Raising my hand, I come down on the exposed globe of her ass cheek. “Dirty fucking girl.” I spank her again. “I’m not your fucking daddy, but I’ll give you what he obviously didn’t.” I spank her again and thrust. “Head down between your legs. Watch me fuck your pussy.”

  She does as instructed and watches as I continue slamming into her. Stilling, I reach down and twist her nipples as she pushes back on me.

  Her moans get louder as I move, gripping her hips and pistoning in and out of her.

  I slap her ass again. “I said quiet.” Then I push deep, my hips hitting her ass, and she shakes as her orgasm overtakes her.

  “Fuck me!” she wails.

  I slam in and out, in and out, faster and faster, until I explode inside the condom.

  She isn’t holding her ankles by the time I’m done. She’s still head down, bent over with her back against the wall as her hands hang limply like the rest of her body, trembling in aftershocks.

  Pulling out, I toss the condom on the ground and walk away, buttoning my pants back up, no thought beyond washing her off me.

  “Collector,” I hear X yell my road name from his doorway. “You ruined that one.” He nods to the bent over woman, smoking a cigarette and making it obvious he watched the show.

  The noise has Judge coming to his door and giving me a nod of approval.

  I look over my shoulder to see the bitch still hasn’t moved. Her pussy is out in the air, ass up, head down, and she’s still moaning. Desperate, needy, it’s not my thing.

  “I need a shower,” I say, giving X a two finger salute before going into my own room where Deacon is already in bed and doesn’t move as I go straight back to the shitty bathroom to clean up.

  I wasn’t lying. I smell like a bar, and now I smell the skank stench of easy pussy. I have needs, but I can’t help wondering what it would be like to have to work for my release just once. It’s not in my cards, though. Just like this town, this ride, and that broad, it’s on to the next for me and my bothers of the Devil’s Due MC.

  Available now through all major ebook retailers.

  Excerpt:

  Challenged (Vipers Creed MC#1)

  Copyright ©Ryan Michele 2016

  Prologue

  My head filled with a cloudy, dense fog that I couldn’t shake. Even with my eyes open, a filmy haze covered them, making everything blurry. Voices were muffled, as if I were under water, sinking. I thought I recognized one, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

  Too hard to think.

  I attempted to pull my arms up, but they were immediately halted by something. The hard, cold, heavy attachments clinked like metal. Even straining to move them, my muscles were so weak, so lethargic I couldn’t. I tried my legs, and the same thing happened.

  A hard surface pressed against my back as the cool air of the room cascaded over my skin, my nipples, my stomach… Oh God, was I naked?

  I opened my mouth, wanting to scream as deep panic set in. Unfortunately, nothing came out except air. Even that took more effort than I had in me.

  Placing the pieces of the puzzle together, I couldn’t make heads or tails out of anything.

  Heat at my side had me turning in that direction, only to see a fuzzy, black figure. I squinted then blinked, trying to get the focus to come back, but nothing. Not a damn thing.

  “Hello, darlin’. Welcome to hell.”

  Chapter One

  Trix


  A lump gathered in my throat settling like a rock, hard and brutal, sucking the wind out of me. My hand slightly twitched as I dialed the number I never in a million years thought I would call. I switched the phone to my other hand in an effort to shake out the trembling, because nervousness wasn’t an option. Trix Lamasters would not turn into some twit who couldn’t think straight over one phone call. Being a shrewd businesswoman, I’d learned from the best not to let shit get to me, how to compartmentalize things and deal.

  I swallowed hard, moving the lump from my throat to settle into my gut like a boulder. As I focused, my breathing evened out. The thick steel in my spine could handle anything life threw at me, including this call. Including the man who would be on the other end of the line.

  The green button stared back at me, my finger hovering over it. Then I pressed it and pulled the phone to my ear just as it started ringing.

  One ring … two … three …

  “What?” was barked through the phone line with a male’s voice tainted by harsh impatience.

  “Can I talk to Cade? Shit.” I stopped myself. He wasn’t Cade anymore. I needed to remember that a lot had changed. “I mean, Spook. Is Spook around?”

  Silence.

  “Hello?” I pulled the phone away from my ear, looking at the bright screen, making sure the call hadn’t dropped. Nope, the little numbers in the corner were still counting away. I pressed it back to my ear, waiting a few beats.

  “Who wants to fucking know?” His tone turned gruffer, almost as if he were a protective watch dog of Cade’s, and nothing or no one got past him.

  Watch dog or not, I wasn’t about to get eaten.

  “This is Trix Lamasters. I need to speak to him.”

  More silence, not even a breath or noise in the background.

  “Hello?”

  His voice came over the line right as I intended to speak again. “Stop fucking saying hello. I’m here.”

  Hell, maybe someone pissed in his Wheaties this morning, his attitude having nothing to do with me. Or maybe it was just him.

  I slapped my hand to my forehead as the word dumbass rang in my mind.

  “Sorry, I thought the call dropped.” Now I apologized to the rude man? Get a grip, Trix.

  “What do you need with Spook?” The guard dog didn’t give me an inch. Nevertheless, he didn’t need to know my business.

  I needed a diversion.

  “Can you just get a message to him to call me?”

  “Babe, either tell me what you need, or nothing fuckin’ gets to him.” His tone turned flat and resolute.

  “Fuck,” I muttered then heard him chuckle. The damn man needed a bone before he played. Asshole. “An employee of mine has been seen at your clubhouse. I need to talk to her.”

  “Call her,” he quipped.

  “She doesn’t have a phone,” I retorted, feeling the fire burn in my veins.

  “Not my problem,” the man sneered. From his attitude, I knew he would have no problem hanging up on me right now, never telling Cade I needed to talk to him. Good thing I dealt with assholes on a regular basis.

  “Look, the bitch owes me money.” Anger raced through my body. I let it be heard through each clipped word.

  He let out a deep laugh that was almost intriguing if he weren’t a jerk. “You may as well kiss that cash good-bye.”

  My pride had other ideas.

  “Fuck no. I want what’s owed to me.” I sighed, needing a different tactic. “Look, can you just give Spook my name?” He would either call or he wouldn’t, but maybe that would get the dog to want to nose around. Maybe curiosity would get him to spread my name at least.

  “This is gonna be fun. Hang on.” The man must have covered the mouthpiece with his hand, because everything he said was muffled except for him calling Spook’s name. That, I could hear clearly. My adrenaline spiked at the thought of Cade coming on the line.

  “Yeah?” a voice I recognized from my dreams said into the phone. The deep, raspy tenor had grown over time and slithered down my spine all the way to my knees, giving them a slight tremble. It took only one word to make my stomach flip.

  Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea, but I wasn’t that girl anymore. He would not have power over me. I wouldn’t allow it.

  I paced my small living room, needing the movement to get my knees back in line.

  “Cade? It’s Trix Lamasters.”

  “First, the name’s Spook. Second, who?”

  That one kind of stung. Alright, more than stung. It tore another hole in my already battered heart was more like it. The asshole didn’t even remember me, but what did I expect, being one in a sea of many? There was absolutely no reason I would have stood out to him.

  “We went to school together,” I tried.

  Silence.

  I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, hoping divine intervention would give me the gift of patience or a gun. Neither came.

  “Whatever. I get you don’t remember me, but you have one of my employees there. I need to talk to her. She owes me money, and I need it back.”

  “Trixie Lamasters.” I could hear the devilish grin as his words snaked over the phone. Not going to lie, my pussy quivered.

  No one called me Trixie anymore, because once upon a time, he did and I had loved it. After he abruptly left my life, taking the one thing I could never get back, I refused to let anyone call me by that name. Never again would I allow the hollow feeling that name represented to seep through me. Now, hearing him after fifteen years, the vault of memories opened wide, something I did not want to happen. I didn’t want to feel, yet each recollection of the past bombarded my mind.

  “Long time.”

  I paused mid-step as a flash of younger Cade hit me. Shaking my head clear, I continued to pace through my living room.

  “Yeah, very long. Anyway, you have a woman there by the name of Nanette King. Can you hand her over to me?”

  I wouldn’t let the smoothness of his voice draw me in like it had all those years ago, reducing me to a pile of teenaged mush. Strictly business, I told myself, because business I could handle.

  “How do you know she’s here?”

  “I had her followed, and it led to you.”

  I guessed he didn’t like the fact that I had found her that way, judging from the muttered curses that followed. Each word made me smile. I had a payroll of people who worked for me now, and some little twit-fart would not run off with my money. That wasn’t how I operated my business.

  Nanette had fallen off the radar. Cade’s club happened to be the last place she was seen; therefore, I had to call him. I may as well have strapped zip-ties around my wrists, locking them in place.

  “First, if she’s at the club, there’s a reason. Second, bitches here don’t go by their real names, so I don’t know if she’s around, because I don’t know a Nanette. Third, you come to the clubhouse, and we’ll talk.”

  Business was business, but my heart spiked at the thought of seeing him again.

  Cade’s club, Vipers Creed MC, had been in Dyersburg for years. Even before I came into this world, their presence had been well known. This town had tales, but these days, the Vipers were mostly known for Creed’s Automotive where they made custom bikes and cars in their own little world located on the outskirts of town.

  I’d hoped to avoid a meeting since I couldn’t see any point to it. I wasn’t in the mood for a high school reunion. The past needed to stay there, locked up tight.

  “I’ll describe her to you. Tell me if she’s there, and I’ll send someone over to get her,” I declared, trying to veer him from this path.

  Negotiations were something I excelled at. There had to be an arrangement that suited us both, one we could manage over the phone. It would be the best course of action. The less contact I had with him, the better. I could have Ike, one of the bouncers at Sirens, pick her up. Win-win all around.

  He chuckled, and my body went on alert because of the slyness in it.

  “Babe, you don
’t get how this works. You want something from me that I have, bring your ass here, and we’ll discuss it. Tomorrow night, seven.” Silence.

  This time when I looked at the screen, the number fifty-seven blinked rapidly. He’d hung up on me.

  “That arrogant piece of shit!” I growled, tossing my phone to the couch where it bounced on the cushion.

  I should have known he’d still be a dick. Some things never changed. Guess I was going to meet up with Cade after all.

  I completely ignored the slight tremor that thought caused.

  Available now through all major ebook retailers!

  About the Author:

  Ryan Michele found her passion in bringing fictional characters to life. She loves being in an imaginative world where anything is possible, and she has a knack for special twists readers don’t see coming.

  She writes MC, Contemporary, Erotic, Paranormal, New Adult, Inspirational, and other romance-based genres. Whether it’s bikers, wolf-shifters, mafia, etc., Ryan spends her time making sure her heroes are strong and her heroines match them at every turn.

  When she isn’t writing, Ryan is a mom and wife living in rural Illinois and reading by her pond in the warm sun.

  Ryan can be found on social media at

  www.authorryanmichele.net

  www.facebook.com/AuthorRyanMichele

  http://www.goodreads.com/RyanMichele

  Twitter @Ryan_Michele

  Excerpt:

  Without Regret by: Cat Mason

  Copyright Amy Cox in affiliation with

  Cat Mason Books

  Chapter One

  Facing Reality

  Rachel

  Doormat.

  The one word I never thought I would be using to describe myself. When I look in the mirror, I hate the person I see staring back at me. How did I get here? I used to be the life of the party; Rachel Davidson was fun.

  This change did not happen overnight. My downward spiral was a slow, yet painful, ride that I watched unfold like some train wreck I was helpless to stop. My happiness was stripped, piece by piece, by the man I fell in love with at a college dorm party. But, before my very eyes, that man began to change into someone I no longer recognize. No one sets out to be steamrolled by someone. However, I didn’t see the disaster my life was becoming until I was standing in the wreckage.