The Biker's Religion (Rough Riders MC Book 2)

Home > Other > The Biker's Religion (Rough Riders MC Book 2) > Page 1
The Biker's Religion (Rough Riders MC Book 2) Page 1

by Shelly Morgan




  The

  biker’s

  Religion

  Rough Riders MC #2

  Shelly Morgan

  THE BIKER’S RELIGION

  Copyright © 2018 by Shelly Morgan.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: October 2018

  Crave Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  http://www.cravepublishing.net/

  Formatting: Crave Publishing, LLC

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-462-4

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-462-4

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  This book is for my mom and my best friend Elaine.

  First, my mom. I don’t know what I would do without you. You are my biggest cheerleader and fan. You are always there for me and know how to make me smile. I know that when I have an idea about a book, you will jump on the opportunity to hash it out with me. And when I’m writing, you are always there, giving me the boost I need. You love your bedtime stories and I hope I can continue to give them to you for many more years to come. I love you, Mom, and I could never thank you enough for everything you’ve given me and all you do for me.

  And Elaine. Girl, I have no words for you, but I’m going to try. You are my best friend, my other half, my girl! I hope you know that I love you and would do anything for you. And even though we’ve only got to meet once in person so far, it feels like I’ve known you my whole life. I know I can count on you, anytime or anywhere. Thank you for all that you do, all that you are. For talking some sense into me when I need it and helping me make my stories better by listening to me and giving me advice. Love you to the end of the world and back again, babe.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ice Man

  Opening the door to Amy’s apartment, I barely get the door closed before I’m stopped in my tracks. I can’t move, can’t think straight. I’m surrounded by the scent of vanilla and strawberries. There’s music playing in the background, but I can’t even tell you what song it is because the sight in front of me demands my undivided attention.

  Standing only a few feet away is Amy, currently unaware of my presence. She’s in only a towel, water still dripping off her. The sight and smell is intoxicating, making me unable to move or speak. But my mind is anything but silent. All I can think about is ripping that towel off her and licking those water droplets off of her body because I want to be the only thing that makes her wet.

  I want to lay her down and moisten my lips with her arousal. I want to finger fuck her until her juices are dripping down my hand. And I want to fuck her until her orgasm soaks my cock.

  Turning around, she finally notices she’s no longer alone, but her reaction is something I wasn’t prepared for. Instead of being surprised by my presence or shying away because she’s practically naked, the biggest smile I’ve ever seen grace her beautiful face greets me.

  And suddenly all of my restraint flies out the window. The months I’ve been holding myself back because she’s been going through so much, or because I can’t allow myself to get involved with anyone, let alone someone as amazing as her. None of that matters in this moment because all I see is her, all I can smell is her, all I can think of is her and how badly I want her.

  Closing the gap between us in two strides, I lock my lips with hers in a bruising kiss, in the same instant I pick her up and carry her to her bedroom before throwing her down on the bed.

  “If this isn’t what you want, tell me now,” I growl, aroused.

  My hands move to my belt, slowly unbuckling it before pulling it out of the loops of my jeans. Then, I unbutton and unzip, staring at her with lust and promise.

  She licks her lips while her eyes stay locked on my hands. I can tell she wants this, but I need her to say the words to confirm what I already know before I continue. I don’t want her to regret what I’m about to do to her because I’m not sure I’d be able to handle it if she did.

  “Amy,” I say, my voice low and dangerous, but when she locks eyes with me finally, all I can see is desperation and need.

  “I want you, Ice Man. Please,” she purrs, and that’s all it takes before I’m ripping the towel from her body and my face is buried in her sweet pussy.

  The first taste has me moaning like a bitch, but I don’t even care. I’ve imagined what she would taste like, but nothing could have prepared me for the real thing. Her arousal is so thick I know when she comes, she’ll flood my mouth. And I can’t wait to feast on her when she screams my name as she explodes.

  “Oh fuck, Ice Man. Yes,” she moans, urging me on by reaching down and holding my head against her folds, like she’s afraid I’ll stop. She has nothing to worry about however, because the whole fucking house could be coming down around us and I wouldn’t stop until I give her what we both want.

  I move my focus to her clit, working my tongue in a circular motion and alternating between hard and light strokes, which has her going crazy. Her moans and screams of ecstasy drown out the music that’s still playing throughout the apartment.

  Keeping my left hand on her hip, I move my right hand around to her opening. I first play with the outer lips of her pussy, going around the edges before dipping my finger in to my first knuckle before pulling it out and doing the process again. I do this for a few minutes while she begs me to give her more until I’m the one that can’t take the torture. I need her soft walls around my fingers, clenching and dripping.

  Starting with only one finger, I go in slowly until I’m all the way inside her. I moan when I feel how tight she is. I’m going to have to take my time to get her ready for all of me, otherwise I’ll end up hurting her, and there’s no way in hell I’ll ever allow myself to do that.

  When I feel her walls start to relax a little, besides the quiver of need, I insert another finger. She begins to buck as my fingers move in and out, getting faster and harder as my tongue continues its assault on her clit. She’s close. All she needs is a little bit more and she’ll have no choice but to let go and fall apart in my hands. And on my tongue.

  I slow my fingers and tongue, but I keep the pressure on her clit. She starts to groan with disapproval, but before she gets the chance, I lightly bite down on her clit and move my fingers deeper, hooking them to hit that spot deep inside her that will make her shoot off like a rocket.

  Just as I feel her detonate in my mouth, she screams out my name, almost causing me to come inside my pants. I haven’t been afraid of that happening since my first time when I was fourteen with Ms. Aston, my math tutor. Yeah, I know. Very cliché.

  As I feel her trembling
start to ease and her body going limp, I kiss her clit before moving slowly up her body, licking, nipping, and kissing as I go, spending a little extra time on her plump, perky tits. And when she reaches down and pulls my head up to hers, I don’t resist, just as eager to taste her mouth again as she seems to have me there.

  Kissing her with a passion I’ve never felt before, I have a moment of panic, but I don’t let it stop me.

  When we both finally come up for air, I feel like my balls will explode if I don’t get inside her soon. She has me so worked up I’m afraid I may not last very long. That just means I’m going to have to work harder to make sure she gets off again before I blow.

  She opens her eyes and I see a playful glint focused on me. “Your turn,” she says before she bucks me off of her. Before I know it, she has me on my back and is pulling down my pants. I have no idea how such a little woman like her was able to overpower me and get the upper hand, but right now, I couldn’t care less. She has my painfully erect cock in her hands, and she’s staring at it like she can’t wait to devour it.

  Looking up at me as if she needs permission, I swallow the arousal that is nearly choking me and nod. “Fuck me with your mouth,” I manage to get out. And then I’m in her hot, wet mouth and I’m fucking lost and hope I’m never found again. With my cock in her sweet mouth, nothing else matters to me; not who I am, where I’m supposed to be, or what is expected to me. All that matters is her and the way she makes me feel.

  Bobbing her head up and down, she starts out slow, working her way all the way down my length, taking me all the way down her throat before coming back up for air. Then picking up speed, she adds her hand to the base of my cock and pumps me in and out of her mouth with a circular motion. I take her hair in my hands and move it off to the side so I can watch her as she takes me in her mouth. She locks eyes with me—it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I can’t look away. This woman is amazing. I want to worship her and beg for mercy. I’m starting to realize that leaving her will prove to be the hardest thing I’ll ever do.

  My eyes roll into the back of my head because it feels too fucking good. I’m not going to last much longer, especially if she keeps up this pace.

  She takes me deep again, but instead of coming back up for air, she swallows with me in the back of her throat, and I’m a goner. My balls tighten up and my spine tingles just before—

  My phone rings, jolting me out of my dream. Fuck! My dick is throbbing and my shorts are soaked with precum. God fucking dammit. I’m going to kill whoever the hell is on the other line of that phone.

  “What?” I yell into the phone, not caring who’s on the other end.

  “Ice Man, church in thirty minutes, man. Think you can make it? Bear has some shit he wants to run by you,” Torq says, not fazed at all by my sour mood.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to calm my racing heart from my dream and my anger at not finishing, even if it wasn’t for real. “Yeah, man, I’ll be there.”

  Hanging up the phone, I contemplate taking a cold shower, or at least relieving myself before heading downstairs to the bar to wait for church, but decide against it. My hard on is gone after hearing Torq’s voice and wondering what it is Bear wants to talk to me about. Plus, I shouldn’t be thinking of Amy while I get off anyway. She doesn’t deserve that, especially from a man like me. She deserves so much better than that, and I’ll be damned if I’ll degrade her in that way. Dreaming about her is one thing, but purposely jacking off to images of her I will not do.

  Making my way downstairs, I walk behind the bar to grab myself a glass and the bottle of bourbon. It’s early, though we’re bikers. We drink whenever the fuck we want. Plus, my dick may not be hard anymore, but I still need something to wash away the remains of that dream. I doubt downing even the whole bottle will manage that, but it’ll help at least.

  I’m just starting on my second glass when I smell her behind me. My dick jumps to life when vanilla and strawberries hit me, bringing images of her laying on her bed, completely naked and begging me with her eyes to fuck her. Fuck!

  I do my best not to look at her as she sits down next to me. God help me if I look at her and see that spark in her eyes. I may not be able to help myself from laying her out on this bar and devouring her pussy, for real this time.

  “I think I’m sick,” Amy whispers next to me, sounding off. My dick shrivels in my jeans and my heart starts to speed in my chest.

  Turning quickly on my stool to face her, I take note of how tired she looks. Shit, she doesn’t look well at all. What the hell could be wrong with her? Could she have caught the flu or other bug that’s been going around? Or is it more serious? Fuck, please don’t let it be anything serious.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Do you need me to take you to the doctor?” I ask, already pulling up the number to the doctor the club uses on my phone. He was the one who helped us with Angel when we got her back home after being kidnapped. She was in rough shape and had a lot of healing to do, so I know I can trust him with Amy.

  “No,” she says, laying her hand over mine, putting a stop to my call. I want to push her hand away and call him anyway. Even if she doesn’t think she needs him, she should be seen anyway. He can run some tests and find out what the hell has her feeling shitty. Maybe while he’s here, I can pull him aside and talk to him about her nightmares too. There might be something he could give her to help her sleep. “I’ll be fine, Ice Man. I just need a shot of Penis-cillin.”

  It takes me a few seconds for what she said to sink in. My head is still running a thousand miles an hour, trying to think of what I need to do to make her feel better. But once I understand, I look up and see a huge, playful smile on her face and that spark in her eyes that makes me want to kiss her and spank her at the same time.

  Shaking my head, I try not to get upset, but being sick isn’t a joking matter. That shit is serious. I don’t like to think of her being sick or hurt, it makes me feel like I’m going insane trying to figure out what I need to do to help her. But I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less from her. She’s always joking around with me, throwing horrible pick-up lines at me like I was the woman and she was the man, and she’s trying to pick me up at the bar. They usually make me laugh and also gives me a better understanding of what women think when they’re given a shitty one-liner. How they don’t just burst out laughing at some of them is beyond me.

  But the most amazing thing about Amy and her constant attempt to make me laugh is that she always seems to know when I need her the most. When I’m too far in my head or shit isn’t going right, I can always count on her to make things better, even if for only a little while.

  “Ha ha, you’re very funny. But seriously, Amy, don’t fuckin’ do that to me again. I thought you were serious. I was one second away from calling the doc over here. You know I take your safety and health seriously, sweetheart. Don’t do that to me, yeah?”

  Laughing, she stands up on her stool and reaches over the bar for a bottle of beer. I try but fail to miss her ass and her sexy legs as she does it. Fuck, now my dick is hard again. But then again, when is it not when she’s around? Shit, for that matter, even when she’s not around, it’s hard half the time because I can’t get her out of my head. She’s becoming an obsession of mine, one I can’t risk getting too close to. I’ve been there before. I know what happens after you give in to your heart, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

  “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself when I saw you sitting here deep in thought and all sad looking. Seriously, you looked like you lost your childhood puppy. I heard that one-liner a few days ago and it’s been killing me, waiting for the perfect time to use it on you,” she says with a smile on her face, but it doesn’t cover up how tired she looks. She still looks sickly, but it’s because she’s not sleeping well at night. Nightmares of what happened to Angel plague her, leaving her screaming in the middle of the night and waking up in a cold sweat.
Though, no one but me knows that. She didn’t want to burden Angel or anyone else with that little tidbit, though I’ve told her time and time again that it’s not a burden. They care about her and want her to be okay. But she doesn’t want the focus to be on her, saying Angel’s the one we need to worry about and take care of. Silly woman. We can take care of both of them.

  I used to run into her room when I was staying with her or at Angel’s apartment across the hall, gun drawn, looking for the motherfucker who dared try to hurt her. I even busted down her door once in a rush to get to her. After realizing it was only her dreams that were scaring her, I was still there for her, but I would only wake her up and then hold her until she fell back to sleep in my arms. Those seem to be the only times she would sleep without having nightmares. But I haven’t been there lately, and now I want to kick my own ass because I can see how it’s been affecting her. I’m a selfish asshole, leaving her alone because I couldn’t stand to be that close to her and not have her the way I want her.

  “First of all, I never had a dog growing up because we could barely afford to feed me and my brother, let alone a pet.” I can tell she wants to ask questions because I rarely bring up anything about my childhood or who I was before the club, but I continue on before she has the chance. I don’t like talking about my past, especially not my most recent past before the MC. “And second of all, don’t joke about your health again, okay? I take your well-being very seriously.” I pause briefly to let that sink in. She knows I care about her, but I doubt she knows the full extent of how I feel. But that’s something she can’t know. It won’t do either of us any good anyway. “And lastly, I have to admit, that was a good one. Probably the best one you’ve come up with so far.”

  I smile at her because I can’t help myself. I love how she can lift the heaviest of my burdens and make me feel like there is still good in life. Like there are people out there I can count on, aside from my brothers, even if I know I shouldn’t.

 

‹ Prev