Hendrix (Caldwell Brothers #1)

by Chelsea Camaron

I stood outside gate twelve waiting for flight attendant, Delta. No, it wasn’t her name, but for all intents and purposes, it worked. I had packed light, so I didn’t have to wait for luggage. If I forgot anything, I could just buy it. It wasn’t like college days when we had to scrape pennies, so I wasn’t going to. “Fuck it” was my motto for the next week. Fuck the responsibilities, fuck the planning, and fuck anyone I wanted without concern for what tomorrow would bring.

  I wasn’t always like this, but things had changed. I was no longer delusional about needing to do the right thing by the woman I was about to be inside of. If they were game, so was I. I could decipher between those looking for a man and those looking for a body. I was gonna be that body, regardless of the inner conflict it sometimes caused me.

  When she walked out, she was in a pink tank dress that hit well above her knees. Knees that I was hoping would wear the imprint of her hotel room rug very soon. She didn’t try to make small talk, which I was grateful for. I no longer had time for bullshit and pleasantries. Fucking was fucking.

  I took her bag and her free hand, like a gentleman, and we walked out into the humid spring Florida air.

  I hailed a cab, held the door open as she got in, and then slid in beside her. She gave the address to the cab driver, and I immediately rested my hand on her bare, sun-kissed knee. I tested the water by running my hand slowly up to the hem of her dress and looked at her. She relaxed against the seat and I pulled her knee closer to mine opening her legs slightly.

  I ran my fingers up her inner thigh and she took a short intake of breath. I continued my slow journey. Her eyes opened as I ran my finger across the silk fabric between her legs. She looked at the cab driver and then back at me. She was a bit nervous. I held my free hand up to my lips and whispered, “Shh.”

  I wasn’t worried that he might see what was going on. There was no way in hell he could, and I really liked the idea of taking this woman out of her comfort zone. She was confident, which is a turn on, but I wanted to be on top, most of the time anyway.

  I pulled her leg so it rested over mine and her eyes grew bigger. I sat back and relaxed as I slowly ran my finger up and down the soft, damp, silky material between her legs. She made little moans that encouraged me to continue slowly teasing her, working her up so that as soon as we entered the hotel room I could have her on her knees.

  ***

  She opened the door to her room and turned to me.

  “I’d like a shower. Care to join me?”

  “I’d like a blow job, care to give me one?”

  She smiled, and when I didn’t return a smile, she swallowed hard. Just like she would be doing in about ten minutes.

  She looked down and nodded, “You want to sit on the bed?”

  I kept eye contact and said nothing as I removed my shoes and started to unbutton my shirt. She was only a beat behind me throwing clothes off all over the place. I really didn’t like the mess. I laid my shirt neatly over the chair, then my pants and boxers were next.

  She looked down at me, “That’ll be fun to work with.”

  “Then let’s not waste any time.”

  I lay on the bed and patted the spot next to me. She climbed up and immediately took my cock in her hands.

  “You’re not hard yet, honey.” She gripped me a bit tighter than I was comfortable with and started stroking me too damn fast.

  I held my hand over hers and slowed her down.

  “This how you like it, honey?”

  Damn, damn, damn, she was fine and all, but I really just wish she’d shut up with the honey already.

  “Music?”

  “Of course. What’s your fancy, honey?”

  “Whatever. Anything is fine.” Just please hurry it up already.

  She got up and turned on the radio. Take You Down by Chris Brown was playing. Maybe she’d get the hint.

  She climbed on the bed and leaned in like she was gonna kiss me. I don’t kiss. As odd as that sounds, it’s too damn personal. We weren’t on a date or falling in love here. She was gonna suck me off, shower, and then I was gonna nail her. This was a mutual exchange, a give and receive.

  I held her cheek in my hand and rubbed my thumb across her lip, slowing her down a bit. Hoping she’d get the point, I pushed my thumb gently into her mouth. Now I was doing this for another reason too. If her beginning hand job was an indication of what she’d be doing with her mouth, I was a little bit concerned.

  She was a licker. She lapped at my thumb like a dog does water. This may not be my preferred method, but it could work. Her mouth on my cock was all I needed right now.

  I hooked my thumb in her mouth and slowly dragged her down towards my dick.

  “You need this huh, honey?”

  “Yeah.”

  She bent down and started lapping at me. I pulled her ass over towards me and started stroking her soaked seam. I spread her, and she opened her mouth and sucked my tip. Okay I get it. I pushed a finger in her, and she moaned with her mouth full of cock. The vibration felt damn good. I pushed in more, and curled my finger up and pressed the magic button.

  “Oh, honey,” she moaned with her mouth still full of my dick.

  I thrust my hips up at the same time as I rubbed my thumb over her clit. She was lapping, sucking, and grinding into my hand. Two minutes later she came.

  I wasn’t sure if she liked it, or if she was pissed. She turned into an animal growling and bobbing up and down so fast I was a little concerned with my well-being.

  “You like it in your ass girl?”

  She stopped, just like I expected, and looked up at me.

  “If that’s what you want honey. Just. Be. Nice.”

  “How about we try it after your shower?”

  “Mmm perfect,” She said between licks. “Honey, does it always take you this long?”

  “You can stop. Go shower. Relax and enjoy.”

  “Sure thing, honey. Can I get you a drink? A snack?” She waved her hands in flight attendant fashion, and I shook my head ‘no.’

  As soon as I heard the shower start, I jumped up and got dressed. I leaned into the bathroom.

  “Something came up. I won’t be able to stick around.”

  She leaned out of the shower and looked at me curiously. “Surely I should return the favor, honey.”

  “Damn it. I wish you could, but as I said, something came up. Maybe I’ll see you around next trip.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  With that, I grabbed my bag and was out the door, dick intact. Fuck! This was not a good start to my relaxing vacation.

  Thank god the cab was waiting. “2272 North Atlantic BLVD, please.”

  One Ride (A Hellions Ride Novel)

  Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2013

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Chelsea Camaron, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.

  1st Edition Published: December 2013

  Cover Design by: Jessie Lane

  Cover Photo by Vicki Jones of Vicki’s Portraiture

  Cover Models: Jared Caldwell and Pantara Lynne

  Editing by: Asli Fratarcangeli

  Formatted by: Indie-Vention

  2nd Edition Published: June 2014

  Whiskey Girl Publishing

  Cover Design by: Jessie Lane

  Cover Images by: Magnolia Ridge Photography

  Shutterstock Images Sivolob

  Editing by: Asli Fratarcangeli and C&D Editing

  Formatting by: Indie-Vention

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

  Excerpt of One Ride(A Hellions Ride Novel)


  By Chelsea Camaron

  Chapter One

  One Encounter

  ~Doll~

  Shit! This one is going to be a mess to clean up, I think to myself.

  Pulling up to the clubhouse, I realize today’s barbeque is not just for the local Haywood’s Landing Hellions, but also for our affiliate charter and chapter clubs. Rather than the usual fifty or so bikers with their families, it’s more like two hundred of them here today. It’s a sight that most would be intimidated by. For me, it’s comfort. It’s the safety found in my family. Most of all, it’s my home.

  Once a year, sometimes twice, my dad invites all of the partnering motorcycle clubs out for a huge barbeque. The Hellion’s control all of Coastal North and South Carolina, as well as a few areas in the Piedmont and Appalachian areas of North Carolina. They provide protection, shelter, food, and fun for all affiliate clubs traveling through. The Hellions are respected and run Carolina Country. Some of the clubs we protect passing through our territories are into the more illegal side of motorcycle club life, while others are more of a band of brothers traveling together. Our club walks a fine line in what they do and do not participate in. As a female, I’m sure there is much more that goes on in the club than I will ever be made aware of. Having such a large area to cover, Dad makes sure to show his appreciation for the smaller charters and chapters whenever possible. Times like this are about family and relaxing; business is off the table.

  Our thirty acre compound area is now littered with bikes, trikes, and cars. Burly bikers abound. Ol’ ladies and kids are squealing and smiling at every turn. The kids are enjoying the food, games, bounce houses, and pony rides. It’s like a mini-freaking-carnival. With all the ol’ ladies present, the bar flies and hang around whores are at a minimum. Some aren’t so bad, but most annoy the shit out of me. They all respect the ol’ ladies and wives, though. It’s a good thing they know their place, too. My dad doesn’t tolerate any disrespect of a claimed woman in his club by anyone, but especially not from a bar-bitch just looking for a night with a Hellion.

  Getting out of my car, I smile. My girls are here today, standing on the other side of the lot, waving to me. Savannah Mae and Caroline are my two very best friends, my survival sisters in this crazy lifestyle. Savannah ‘Sass’ Perchton and I have been best friends from childhood.

  Her dad, ‘Danza’, is a Hellion original, along with my dad, Roundman, their friend, ‘Frisco’, and the late ‘Rocky’ Fowler. The four men created the MC as a way to ride together and stay safe thirty-two years ago when they were in their twenties. Rocky and his wife passed away in a car accident a few years back. Their only daughter, Dina, was in college at the time, with no other family. The Lawson family and the Hellions MC have made sure to be a support system for her as much as she will possibly allow. She’s the reason Sass and I went to college in Charlotte. Our dads felt it was a good way to keep an eye on us, Dina and Maggie Lawson, another Hellion princess all at the same time. Dina is a couple of years older than us. She’s settled in life. She has a great husband and two beautiful daughters. Maggie and Dina both took care of Sass and I while we were in college. Especially the first two years, we were young and had been sheltered so much by growing up in our small town run by the Hellions that college was a wild experience. Dina and Maggie are like older sisters for both of us.

  Freshman year, we decided to attempt dorm life. That’s where we met Caroline Milton. We lasted one semester in the dorm, before my dad put us in an apartment and we brought Caroline with us. She’s the complete opposite of Sass and me. Caroline majored in business, specifically accounting, where Sass and I took an easier path, one not involving so much math, choosing arts and communications.

  I stifle a giggle as I realize this is Caroline’s first time at a large club event. Of course, she knows that Sass and I have biker Dads, but her schedule has never allowed her to be with us for a party. She’s clearly overdressed in her cocktail length, spaghetti strapped dress, and wedge-heeled sandals. The dress isn’t overly formal, but its fitted and not the casual feel that these barbeques are meant for. Sass and I are both in jean shorts and tank tops. Denim and leather are safe bets for anything at the clubhouse. A sundress would’ve been a bit more suitable for her to wear. Although, I don’t think Caroline is one to ever dress casually except when cleaning her house or something, and that’s a serious maybe. I doubt she even owns a pair of yoga pants.

  After college graduation, Caroline stayed in Charlotte. She works with Kenna, one of Dina and Maggie’s friends. Sass and I, on the other hand, came back to the coast to work for the Hellions storage business and motorcycle garage. I run the storage office, while Sass is like a “girl Friday”, answering phones, doing parts runs and stuff for the bike shop. We share a condo on the beach because at twenty-five, neither of us wanted to live back at home, even though we both know we are never out of the reach of our parents or any of the Hellions. This has been our world for two and half years, living at the beach, while working beside our dads.

  Weaving my way through the hordes of bikes towards my friends, I feel at peace, even amongst the chaos. Gazing around me, I admire the many motorcycles in our courtyard, each decked out in chrome and leather. I hug my girls for our typical greeting, as I reach them.

  Together, we make our way inside the clubhouse where I nod and wave greetings at my extended family. Taking in the many unfamiliar faces, I smile knowing I’m safe even with these “strangers” around. It’s an unspoken code women are protected and cherished in the Hellions. I’m no one’s target for trouble here, and it’s not because this is our territory; it’s because I’m a lady of the Hellions for life, ride until I die.

  The affiliates seem to understand who I am, even without introduction. I’m not an ol’ lady. There is no cut on my back. I’m not claimed with a property patch. That doesn’t mean I’m available either. No, I’m not one to be found riding bitch on anyone’s bike. There is only one motorcycle I’m permitted to place my derriere on and those opportunities are few and far between. My dad refuses to let me ride with anyone but him.

  I’m not available to guys outside the club either, which suits me just fine. I was born into this life. My heart beats to the same steady tick of a Harley Davidson V-twin engine. I’m Delilah ‘Doll’ Reklinger. Princess to the Haywood’s Hellions MC. Daughter of ‘Roundman’, Hellion original and Prez for the last thirty two years. I’m the kid sister that each of these badass bikers looks out for. They will gladly kick your ass all because you simply looked at me. I’m a daughter to each and every ol’ lady to nurture, love, and treat like one of their own. This is my world, my home, and my happiness.

  Haywood’s Hellions’ annual barbeque is one of the best parties of the year. Due to business needs, last year we were unable to attend, though. Roundman scheduled the run so our absence was no sign of disrespect for our parent chapter.

  This year, we’re expected and happy to oblige. When Roundman or any patched Hellion calls, we answer. Each charter may have their own Prez, but we all answer to the Haywood’s Hellions and Roundman.

  All the charters are represented today, complete with families in tow. The turnout is outstanding for the small town of Haywood’s Landing, North Carolina. The compound is located in the boondocks, making functions like these a non-issue for the neighbors.

  Taking it all in around us, my crew and I are relaxing, leaning up against the bar when Rex smacks my chest as he tips his beer bottle in the direction of three females. One of them clearly didn’t get the message, this is an MC event. She is dressed more for a day of shopping, or a night out at a club, than a barbeque at the clubhouse.

  “Those are definitely not hang around hoes,” Rex states.

  “That’s for damn sure. They’re walking with class and a whole lot of confidence. None of them are hangin’ on a man and no property patches in sight. Aw shit, Rex, fresh pussy for you.” I reply, laughing.

  Drexel ‘Rex’ Crews, is my cousin, Vice Prez of my Cat
awba Hellions chapter, and my lifelong best friend. We are the Piedmont chapter to the Haywood’s Hellions, located in Catawba, North Carolina, about an hour outside of Charlotte.

  Our moms are sisters who both had us out of wedlock and at a young age. We were taken in by our grandparents and raised more like brothers, and we proudly carry our Grandpa’s last name. Only eighteen months apart in age, we are still, and have always been, inseparable. Rex’s mom tries, whereas my mom bailed early on. Our grandmother passed when we were eight or nine and our grandfather followed in our teens. Having no one to really care for us, we roamed the streets.

  Aunt Jolene, Rex’s mom, tried; but she worked so much to provide a house and food for us that there wasn’t enough time in the days for her to keep up. Drugs, alcohol, petty theft, and girls were our day to day until a chance meeting with Roundman and his boys at a gas station one day. He set us straight and set us up. We owe everything we have to him.

  Rex is a ladies man with little to no standards. His only real boundary is that of an ol’ lady. If you don’t want Rex to hit on your woman, then you damn sure better claim her. Hang around hoes, sisters, friends, exes, and complete strangers are all fair game in his mind; married or not. As long as it’s new pussy, he’s happy. There are no encore performances.

  ‘Hit it, get it, and go. No repeats’ is the motto Rex lives by.

  “That dress is screaming to be plucked off. She needs to be devoured by D-Rex, my brother. She just doesn’t know it yet,” he says with a snicker as he steps away in the direction of his new conquest.

  The brunette in the dress may be what has caught Rex’s attention, but my eyes are glued to the long, blonde and straight-haired beauty next to the dress. Her face is round and flawless, her skin smooth like that of a glass doll. She’s in a black Harley Davidson tank top and short as sin jean shorts. Damn, this broad is stacked; nice rack, skinny with a plump ass that’s screaming to be smacked. I watch as she laughs, carefree, with her friends as Rex joins them.