Hunter: MC Romance (Hell Reapers MC Book 1)

by Liz Lorde

  Hunter, who I had expected would also be a mechanic, informed me that he actually worked as a personal trainer as his main source of legit income - working at the Caulhoon shop as a mechanic was only something he put a small number of hours into.

  Reyes was…well, he was a ghost, to me at least. When Jameson and Hunter were explaining what they did for a living, Reyes had told me that he, in so many words, ‘did work that others didn’t want to do’. Yeah, not exactly the most gripping of stories behind that one. If I couldn’t find anything on the man, he’ll easily be the one I cut from the piece.

  “Well,” I started, “what do you boys want to know about me?”

  Jameson spoke up then, giving a sly look my way, “What don’t we want to know about you.”

  I could hear Reyes’ resenting exhalation of breath.

  Hunter glanced at Jameson and then over to me, “Tell me what you do,” he raised his chin at me.

  “I’m a professional singer,” I told him, “…of sorts.”

  “Really?” Hunter’s dimples appeared, but he seemed a tad incredulous.

  “Do I not look the type?” I asked.

  “Sing us something,” he encouraged genuinely, but as if he could already sense my protests, he said, “come on. We want to hear you sing,” he looked towards the other two. Only Jameson joined in on the pressuring.

  “Oh, no, no,” I insisted putting my hands up. Shit maybe this wasn’t the best lie to spin. “I really couldn’t.”

  “Why not?” Hunter asked.

  “Because, I mean, I just - I can’t?” That came out wrong, “I can’t, it’s too…” I drifted off, biting down on my lower lip nervously.

  “You’re too shy, eh?” Hunter realized, “come on beautiful, ain’t none of us gonna judge you. You’re in good company, or have we not been hospitable enough?”

  “Y-you’ve been great, really,” I insisted, “I just, I only do studio work.” This lie was definitely a mistake that was paying terrible dividends now. Please, don’t make me do it - my heart’ll come right out of my fracking chest.

  The man seemed to be discouraged then, “Alright,” he finally conceded, “so you sing. But not for an audience. I can respect that,” his icy blue eyes looked me over and I felt my stomach churn in delight. “So why Vivid? You really don’t seem like the type.”

  “My friend, Sabrina, told me that I wasn’t being adventurous enough,” I said, “that I needed to get out more and live life to the fullest.”

  “You came to the right place for that,” Hunter smirked, “you sure that’s all, though?” His earlier suspicions clearly weren’t assuaged.

  “I’m just a simple girl,” I shook my head slightly, “just trying to have fun and get to know some people. And, I mean,” I bit my lip again, feeling the fire flow fiercely between my legs, “I was wondering…one little thing.”

  Hunter gave me a ‘you were wondering?…’ look.

  “If you’d be able to give me a ride,” I said, and Jameson nearly spat out his beer in a whoop, “I-I mean, on your bike, to my apartment. I’ve always wanted to try one. You did say that you would.”

  Hunter looked devilishly pleased, “Course babe,” he said, “of course. But you know,” he said, making a sucking noise through his teeth, “we kind of have a rule. See, me and the boys here, we’re part of an enthusiast club.”

  My senses perked up at his mentioning of this. “Oh? I was wondering, guess those things on your chest mean something,” I pointed with a nod of my chin at Hunter’s chest, where his patch would be if he had one.

  “Girls? Only ride if they show their tits,” my heart shot up into my throat when he said that, “just how it is, gorgeous.”

  I sat there stunned, my body locking up and refusing to do much of anything.

  Jameson and Hunter could only look at me from across the table, Reyes didn’t seem particularly interested either way.

  “Here?” I asked, sure that my face was going red.

  “Here,” Hunter confirmed.

  Nervousness and excitement both pricked away at my chest mercilessly. He was going to make me expose myself here, in front of his brothers and anyone else attentive enough to get a good look.

  Well, I’ll have to give him a crash course in how I barter. You expect me to give? Best expect I’ll take, too. “I’ve got my own rules too,” I countered.

  “Oh?” Hunter said and then laughed, “like what?”

  “Yeah, such as, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

  And then something strange happened. I felt a rumble of laughter at my side, Reyes moving along the bench, a wide smile forming on his face as he looked over to Hunter.

  Hunter himself showed nothing outside of a peculiar, aggravating if not attractive, cockiness.

  Shit. He’s gonna whip it out, isn’t he?

  Sure enough, as if he could hear the fracking thoughts percolating in my head, Hunter got up from his seat and unbuttoned his tight, faded and torn, blue jeans. Heat curled against my chest, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to some curious tingling between my legs. The man stripped his jeans down, just enough for the outline of his sublime member to be seen pressing against his underwear.

  Reyes and Jameson turned away, making their own noises of protest. But me? Well let’s just say I was pleased that I had the restraint not to jump around all giddy.

  Hunter peeled his underwear down, struggling to move it past the full and hard muscles of his thigh. He revealed the first few inches of his manhood, just the base of the shaft – and hell that was enough to wake my body up for sure. I was firing on all cylinders, and was certain that if I wasn’t red in the face, I was definitely looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

  Years ago I used to be crazy about Charlie Hunnam; a couple of girls, and even Sabrina, used to watch that show SoA. I’d have sucked that man off in a heartbeat and with a damn smile on my face. Hunter? Call me a whore, or call me whatever you will – but that man was built right. I could feel the delightful tension consuming me; if I’d been cursed (or blessed with the right guy) to suck only one more man in my life, I could die a happy, happy woman with my lips wrapped around that stick.

  All of that delightful tension twirling inside of me, driving my clit mad with a need for attention, came to a head when his…well when his head sprang free. His rather thick cock stood there at half mast, Hunter’s underwear tightly hugging the muscles of his thigh.

  Reyes cleared his throat, “Come on bro.”

  Jameson hugged the wall of the booth for dear life, “If you could be so kind as to put that away,” he trailed off. Hunter kept his eyes locked on me with a satisfied smile, his hand moving over to Jameson’s beer and taking it from his hand. “Oh, sure,” Jameson said, “by all means, take what’s mine. Put it away,” he protested, “nobody wants to see that.”

  I put up two fingers in open rebellion to the men’s opinion, “Just,” I said, “a few more seconds, I say.”

  Reyes buried his head in his hands, “He’ll keep it out there ‘till someone calls the fucking cops.”

  Hunter brought the bottle of his beer to his lips and dipped his head back, and then set the bottle back down on the table, cocking his head to the side, “Tits,” he said, “let’s go. Unless you don’t got the cojones, firecracker. I’m thinkin’ that they’re pink, puffy, and as I love all nipples to be, pointy.”

  You’ve got steel balls for that, I’ll give you that much. “Fair’s fair,” I shrugged, a little part of me screaming at me – demanding that I try and squeeze a few more seconds out of this delightful sight. To my disappointment, Hunter put everything back where it belonged and sunk back into the booth.

  I slid down the top of my dress enough to reveal my favorite hot pink, Ambrielle push-up bra. It was the only one that didn’t consistently prick at my chest. The whistles came immediately from the boys. God boys were so simple, throw them even the sight of a bone and they come to heel. I even caught Reyes looking my way now.


  Hunter perked up and leaned forward slightly into the table, his eyes awash with appreciation and dark lust.

  I’ve got you right where I want you now. I felt a smile walk along the lines of my face and I craned my head to check behind me, from side to side – then bringing my playful gaze back to Hunter. Butterflies of excitement worked their way through me as I brought my bra down slightly and grabbed my boobs, freeing them from their actually comfortable prison.

  My nipples were firm buds after witnessing that magnificent display, and the fact was not lost on any of the men – least not Hunter. I pulled in a deep breath, crossing my arms just under my breasts and feeling them rise with my expanding chest. It felt kinky as hell to be doing something so exhibitionist, but I couldn’t deny that it was also turning me on in all the right places. Wetness pooled at the base of my panties, and that need to be filled – which I wasn’t sure when or if I’d ever feel again – crashed against me like dark, seducing tides.

  After a moment of time, I brought my bra and dress back up. “Satisfied?”

  “Not nearly,” Hunter replied.

  “Too bad. You good to drive?”

  “Yeah, come on,” Hunter got up from his seat; I could see plain as day that he must have been in a lot of pain, judging by the bulge of his crotch. “Let’s bounce. I’ll see you boys later,” he brought a hand to the back of Jameson’s head and mussed the man’s hair playfully.

  Jameson moved his head away from Hunter’s hand, “Do not break the woman’s heart,” he opined, giving Hunter a peculiar, almost knowing look.

  I got up from the firm leather cushioning and glanced at Hunter, trying to discern what those words could have precisely meant.

  Hunter put up his hands, “Come on now,” he said defensively, “I’m not that much of a player. Not anymore, at least.”

  Yeah somehow I doubt that.

  Chapter 5

  The bestial, roaring engine of Hunter’s hard, pristinely kept motorcycle came to life and I felt a thorn of heat prick at my chest. Christ I’ve never had the pleasure of riding one of these, I better not get myself killed over this hot—I mean, over this job.

  Hunter craned his head over his shoulder, spying me with a wicked look on his face, “Still haven’t gotten your name.”

  “My tits weren’t enough?” I called out, a couple of paces behind his motorcycle.

  “Guess I’m just old fashioned, but I like to know the name of my conquests.”

  “If that’s all I am to you, then you can forget getting my name,” I replied, sauntering over to his side and staring daggers at him. I would never let myself be just a piece of ass to any man. Especially not one as cocky as Hunter. Of course, the bastard did have a way of making my stomach and head feel out of place – the closer I got to him, the higher I felt; the higher I felt, the closer I wanted to be to him.

  Was this what junkies went through?

  “Hop on, Firecracker, or I’ll have you walk home,” he smirked then.

  Now you’re really acting like a dick, “Maybe I will, asshole.”

  “You won’t,” his intense blue eyes locked with mine, and then he clicked his teeth, chuckling to himself, “I’m sorry,” he said, “if it makes a difference, I can’t help the shit that I say.”

  “Uh-huh,” I stepped closer, keeping eye contact with the man, dark waves of pleasure lapping at my womanhood.

  “Come on,” he urged, “I know you’re dying to go for a ride.”

  “You don’t know even know the half of it, hotshot.”

  Hunter brought his hand out to mine and pulled me closer, so dangerously close that if I moved even just an inch wrong, my lips might find his. The spot on my hand that he was holding came alive with electricity, and strangely beautiful euphoria pricked my skin. Gooseflesh.

  He doesn’t have power over you, he’s just some guy. He’s your target, your mark; dance with him, but don’t give in…

  “Sit,” he growled, giving me a sexy look.

  I looked him over one last time before bringing my leg over the bike and planting my ass on the seat. I was close to him and I wrapped my arms around his midsection tightly, feeling the leather of his jacket - touching some of the hard muscles of his abs.

  The rumble of Hunter’s steel beast was exciting. Feeling it’s constant purr between my legs made me ache to be touched down there, but I quickly banished the thought from my mind. I had to remain focused.

  I’ll invite him in for coffee - surely even sexy outlaws such as Hunter at least drink coffee, right? I laughed quietly to myself at the idea of the man sipping some of my various teas; there was no way in hell I could see him indulging in that.

  “You good?” He asked above the din of the bike.

  “Show me what she can do.”

  I could feel the rumble through Hunter’s chest when he chuckled, “I’d hate for you to ruin your panties.” Little did he know he’d ruined them earlier when I got to see that wonderful piece of work.

  “Less talking, more riding,” I said and then explained to him where my apartment, a rented out house, was located. And so we took off like two birds in the night - our wings spread and a sense of adventure thick in the air; the wind screaming at us like we were something unholy and from the pits of hell. The pavement was our clear sky untouchable, and speed was our always present God. And our God? She was a bat-out-of-hell, certifiably insane. He rode like he looked. Hard and dangerous. Every turn he made his own, every lane change was smooth and done in total confidence; weaving through traffic seemed to come as easy to him as breathing.

  Me? I hung for dear fucking life. I clutched his midsection so hard I was sure I had to be hurting him, but Hunter never said anything - he’d only look to me when we stopped at the red lights to make sure that I was okay.

  What little time there was left in the night passed in a quickness; my muscles tensing up as we sped like demons blazing a trail of brimstone behind us. With heart pounding in chest, and skin tingling with a dangerous euphoria, I realized something: the danger of it all was exciting. I enjoyed riding. Maybe one day I’ll put my ass in the driver’s seat.

  Hunter’s ride came to a slow when we neared my studio apartment. It came to a stop and he killed the engine. “This it?”

  “Yeah”

  An arrogant smirk appeared on the man’s face, the light stubble of his visage moving along with it, “How’d you like it?”

  “The ride? Uhm,” I was embarrassed at how much I liked it, in a woman’s sense, as much as I enjoyed it in a riding sense, “it was awesome.”

  Hunter laughed lightly, “You uh – you kind of sound embarrassed there, Firecracker.”

  “I’m not,” I tried to argue, but I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t convinced. I raised my leg off of the bike and padded forward a couple of paces before turning on my heel and looking over at Hunter. “Thanks for the ride.”

  He got off of his bike and approached me, looking at me with those intense, striking blue eyes. “You going to invite me in?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Hunter stepped closer still, the gap between us becoming nothing more than a hand’s length. He looked down at me, standing several heads taller than I could ever dream to be. I felt small in his presence – but in a good way, in a way that I felt safe. In a way that I felt some base, near animalistic desire. “You going to give me your name?”

  A shudder rolled through me effortlessly, “Still unsure on that—“

  He tilted his head and moved in closer and the heat between us became unbearable. The world could have sat in total stillness then for all I cared; the sun and the moon themselves could have been swallowed up by the dead of night before the coming morn, and I still wouldn’t have given a rats ass.

  Mr. Gates himself could have fired me on the spot for the feelings that swirled within me like a tumultuous sea. But fuck, if I, didn’t, care.

  I wanted to hang on to that feeling as his lips neared mine – that glorious, u
ncertain, wondrous vibration somewhere between fear and, I didn’t want to dare think, of love. I straddled the fences of lust and madness. Would he kiss me? Was he toying with me? Should I tell him my name? A hundred thoughts barreled through me like an unspeakable storm; if I was the lighthouse that stood proud, he was the churning, tempestuous sea that humbled me before his constant grace.

  But he didn’t.

  He didn’t kiss me, and a part of me was glad – a sliver of my shadow self was thankful, because being me was hell. Being me was constant trouble, after what transpired between me and that fucking prick.

  Hunter brushed right past my lips and went toward my ear, his breath licking warm across my neck – giving me needles of euphoria. “Invite me in,” he said in a truly humble request, “I know it’s corny and blunt,” he continued, “but I don’t want our time to end just yet.”

  I swallowed and the lump in my throat did not find itself yet dislodged, “It’s Jessica,” I confessed, and then stepped back a couple of feet.

  That was when I saw the warmest smile off of the man the entire night, he tilted his head towards the door of my apartment and grabbed my hand.

  With a mountain of trepidation looking over me and a coursing current of equal parts enchantment, equal parts uncertainty – I went headlong into the belly of the beast.

  Chapter 6

  “I don’t seem to specifically recall inviting you inside,” I kicked off my heels and my feet thanked me with little waves of relief. “I gave you my name, not an open invitation.”

  “You’re not stopping me,” Hunter pointed out, practically gliding across the wooden panel flooring of my living room and plopping onto the midnight blue couch. “Nice place you got here, makes mine look like a bit of a dump,” he kicked his black boots up and on to the coffee table, like he already owned the place.

  Alas, I’d have to abandon both couch and table for the cause. There was always a price to pay in war.

  That was when my old man, Barristan, came racing through the hall to come and greet me, barking up a storm at the intrusion. “Easy now, old man,” I called out and reached my arms out to greet him, kneeling down closer to the floor.