Retribution: A Motorcycle Club Romance

by Valentine, Sienna

  Copyright © 2015 Sienna Valentine

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dialogue, and everything else are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to people or events, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Thanks for reading this novel. If you enjoy it, be sure to scroll right to the end for some previews of other novels I’ve written.

  To become a beta or ARC reader, or hear about my books as soon as they come out, be sure to sign up to my mailing list.

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  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Also By Sienna

  ~ PROLOGUE ~

  Will sighed and took a quick glance under the conference table at his watch. The voices of the other members of the MC faded into the background of his thoughts. He just wanted this thing to be over. It felt like the Black Dogs had been, well, chasing their tails over this same issue for weeks now, and he was growing tired of it.

  Ghost cleared his throat and began speaking. The sound brought Will back to the present. “Look, here’s my thing. It’s not like the cartel has a reputation for throwing fucking tea parties. If we try to set up some UN summit instead of a ground offensive, we’re just gonna get mowed down like a bunch of assholes.”

  A few grumbles began around the huge wooden conference table. At its head sat Henry Oliver, president of the Black Dogs MC, who leaned back heavy in his big, comfortable leather chair with a hand over his mouth, listening, thinking. A cigar burned, half-ignored, in a crystal ash tray in front of him. To his right sat the vice president, Douglas Dillon, longtime comrade and war buddy. The rest of the seats were taken by the MC’s most trusted men—Jase Campbell, Ghost McBride, Martin Palmer, Trevor Bones, and Will himself, the MC’s spymaster.

  Usually, these types of meetings were reserved for Mondays, after the boys’ weekend blazes left them tired and hungover enough that sitting in an air-conditioned office chair for a few hours seemed appealing. But Henry had called this semi-emergency meeting on a Friday evening, and everyone stirred in their chairs, antsy. Everyone had places they wanted to be instead. But things had begun to stir in LeBeau.

  “He’s not wrong,” said Jase. “We’ve heard some upsetting reports from the southern part of the state where the cartels have a better handle on the territory, and it’s not a pretty picture.”

  Murders, assaults, arson, robberies… they had all heard the reports. The cartel had come in hard and fast in the big cities in the south. The first calls from shopkeepers getting hassled in LeBeau was what had prompted Henry to make the issue a priority—it seemed to be the first rumblings of a bigger problem. Already, there had been some minor violence against businesses that seemed to have been strategically chosen, stretched along a few of the lesser-traveled highways that ran through the towns of the mountain pass.

  Henry raised a palm. “I know we’re all troubled by what’s happening, and Douglas has already reached out to the affected businesses to offer some support. But this is a delicate situation. The cartel is expanding. Now, we can present ourselves as enemies, or we can be allies.”

  Douglas added, “We might be able to keep them out of the corridor, if we banded together all our allies and called in most of our favors. Truth is, they’re bigger than we are. We would have to be ready for potentially heavy casualties.”

  Will shook his head and dropped a finger on the table. “I’m not okay with that, and you know I haven’t been okay with it since this first became an issue.”

  “None of us want casualties, man,” said Ghost from down the table. “Fuck, none of us want the cartel here in the first place. But they’re escalating, and we’re just sitting here with our dicks in our hands.”

  “I understand the issue,” said Will, leaning back in his chair. “But I don’t see how adding more bullets to a firefight is going to end it.”

  “It ends if those bullets hit their targets,” said Jase, pointing to Will from directly across the table.

  Will gave him a sour look. “And what if they don’t?” The table was silent so he pressed on with his point, the same one he felt like he’d been arguing for weeks now. “If the cartel wanted to come in hard and give us no choice but to fold, they could have done it. Instead, it’s like they’re flirting with us. They’ve caused enough of a rumble to get our attention without killing anyone or drawing down the Feds. This is them giving us a chance to make a deal.”

  “Or they’re just being smart about their resources,” said Ghost sardonically. He always got this heavy-browed, dark look when he disagreed with Will, and it was there in plain view now. At least the man was easy to read.

  Will shook his head. “I’m with Henry on this, still. We have a chance to make a deal that will keep things steady around here, maybe even benefit the MC in some way. We’d be idiots not to take it.”

  Around the table, a few men groaned, including Jase and Ghost. Sometimes, Will couldn’t help but feel like the odd man out in the MC, even though he knew damn well he belonged—no, thrived—within its ranks. He found himself thinking of his grandfather, a commander during World War II, wishing he had survived into the present to give Will his wisdom at times like these. But Will was smart enough to know that even soldiers differed from each other. Of course Jase and Ghost wanted to go in blazing; what was the type of men they were. Will knew there were other paths to consider. He was the quiet assassin to their front line cavalry. He held fast against their disagreement.

  Henry sat up in his chair and took hold of his gavel. He leaned his thick arms on the table. “All those in favor of arranging a diplomatic meeting with the cartel?”

  Will raised his hand. So did Henry, Douglas, Martin, and Bones. As they looked around the table, the remaining men who disagreed shook their heads or sighed in defeat. Diplomacy had the vote.

  Henry banged his gavel once on the shiny wooden table. “There it is. We’ll take the weekend and come back to this Monday morning. In the meantime, keep me notified of any developments.”

  The room filled with the sounds of chairs rolling and men grumbling, leather cuts shifting against chain wallets and weapon holsters. Will stood up and looked at Jase staring at him from across the table, stern but not angry.

  “When are your balls gonna drop, man?” said Jase as he walked around in slow procession behind the others headed for the door. “You never vote for a fight.”

  “And you never vote for diplomacy,” said Will with a laugh, landing a punch on Jase’s thick left arm when he approached. “If you’re going to be the trigger-happy one around here, someone else has to be the sane one.”

  “I do not want that job!” said Ghost loudly from behind them.

  Will shook his head, laughing, and walked next to Jase as they made their way down the stairs and into the clubhouse den. Already, men posted up at the bar and cracked open beers, while others bee-lined out the door and to their bikes outside. “You’d think after all this time I would have taught you that there is more than one way to destroy an enemy, Jase.”

  “Oh, do enlighten me, Sun Tzu.”

  “If they’re our allies,
they can’t be our enemies. That destroys them as effectively as bullets,” said Will.

  “Ooh, that’s good—did you come up with that?”

  Will smirked and shook his head. “Copyright Abraham Lincoln.”

  “Fucking nerd.” Jase fell silent a moment as they walked up to the bar. “Ah! Counterpoint: allies can betray you.”

  “Only allies can betray you,” said Ghost as he pushed in between them, leaned over the bar until one of his feet was off the floor, and pulled back up with three bottles of beer. He opened them roughly on the side of the bar with his hand and offered one to Will and Jase each.

  “Now that’s good,” said Jase as he clinked his beer bottle against Ghost’s.

  “Copyright Ghost McBride into eternity,” said Ghost.

  Will rolled his eyes and took a few hearty swigs of beer. As Jase and Ghost changed the subject, he set his half-finished beer on the bar and took a quick visit to the restroom. When he came back out, he found an empty den with sounds of laughter coming from the open door leading out to the rear yard of the clubhouse.

  “Hey there, baby.” The feminine voice came from behind him, heavy with insinuation. Will felt small hands caress around his waist, one running under his cut to rub his muscular chest, the other wandering south, diving into the waistband of his jeans without hesitation. “Running off so soon? I waited for you.”

  Will moaned as she pressed her ample tits against his back. His cock began to harden at the approach of her soft fingers. “Did you now?”

  She made a soft moaning sound in return. Will pulled her hand out of his jeans so he could turn around to face her. One of the house mouses, Tracy, stood before him with a seductive grin. With her blonde hair pulled up in a messy pile on top of her head, there was nothing obstructing his view of her thin, tanned frame, or the enhanced cleavage staring at him from her very low-cut black top. She leaned in and kissed him, sucking his lip into her mouth gently. Her hand rubbed his cock boldly outside his jeans, hardening him to steel in just a few seconds.

  “C’mon, I need it,” she murmured into his mouth. Will kissed her back with heated lips and pushed her against the wall, grinding up against her as she threw her arms around his neck and wrapped one leg around his waist. He rubbed his hands up and down her bare, toned thighs, almost fully exposed by the insanely short shorts she wore.

  “Tell me again,” he said, his voice heavy with lust. He leaned down and kissed her forcefully, running a firm hand to grope her breasts over her shirt. Tracy whimpered, leaning her head back against the wall.

  “I need it….” She begged, digging her nails into his neck.

  Will lifted the petite blonde off her feet, holding her against him as he pushed them both into the closest bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him without moving his mouth from where it was planted on Tracy’s neck, sucking and biting as she writhed against him. He threw her across the bed.

  “Get your pants off,” he growled as he fumbled at his own belt buckle. Will soaked in the sight of her disrobing, and moaned when she stuck her fingers down her black silk panties and ran them over her clit, waiting for him.

  Will stripped off his clothes and leaned over her to take one of her taut nipples into his mouth. He twirled his tongue over it until Tracy squealed beneath him, his hand firmly kneading the other. He moaned as he sucked on her tit, grinding his hard cock against the wet silk of her panties.

  Tracy whimpered when Will released her breast from his mouth and moved up the bed to kneel next to her face. “Suck me,” he said, moving his cock to her lips and putting one of his hands in her blonde hair.

  The sexy club mouse didn’t hesitate to pull his cock into her mouth and start sucking generously, moaning as she rubbed her tongue in swirling motions around his sensitive head. Will kept one hand in her hair as he bucked his hips toward her mouth, fucking her face. His other trailed down her naked body and into her panties. When he felt how wet she was, he moaned and gripped her hair tighter. Without warning, he pushed two fingers deep inside her pussy. Tracy cried out around his cock while he finger-fucked her with slow, deep strokes.

  He didn’t let his cock leave her mouth until he felt himself getting dangerously close to orgasm, but he wasn’t done with her yet. After one last push deep into her throat, Will pulled all the way out, leaving a trail of her saliva along her face and lips with the head of his cock. Tracy gasped for breath and snaked her tongue out to keep licking him as she squirmed under the pressure from his fingers.

  Will pulled his soaked fingers out from inside her and stood up to get a condom from the nightstand, then slid on top of Tracy and kissed her hungrily.

  He pushed her legs apart and settled between them before he ran a firm palm over her hot pussy, rubbing rhythmically. Tracy moaned into his mouth, gasping at his touch, her hips lifting up to meet his hand. With a casual swipe, Will pushed her panties aside with his fingers and smiled as the wet warmth of her excitement washed over his hand again. Guiding his hard cock to her entrance, he slipped inside of her, and in a single stroke, thrust its entirety deep into her. Tracy screamed in pleasure, her fingernails biting into his neck and shoulders as he fucked her.

  “Fuck, fuck…” she moaned with every thrust of the Black Dog member that pushed ever deeper inside of her. Will lost himself in the feel of his cock wrapped in her wet heat, in the feel of her soft silk panties against him as he fucked her, at the sight of her writhing underneath him, grasping at her own huge tits. He watched them move with his thrusts and heard Tracy cry out when he bent to take a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around its sensitive nub.

  “Fuck, I’m gonna come!” she whined.

  Will felt her pussy contracting around him with delicious pleasure. He wrapped his arms around her, grasping her hair tight in his hand for leverage, and fucked her as hard as he could. Tracy’s rhythmic moans became one long scream as she came around Will’s cock, milking him to his own orgasm. He buried himself deep inside her as he came, her face pressed hard against his shoulder, biting into him.

  Will was lost in post-orgasmic haze for a few moments. He could feel Tracy planting gentler, sweeter kisses on his neck as his cock softened, still inside her. Once the bliss had passed, he pulled himself out of her and stood up, heading for the bathroom. He threw out the condom and gave himself a quick cleaning before he buttoned up his jeans and came back into the room. Tracy lay as he had left her, stretched out on the bed half-naked, her tits hanging out of her shirt. She gave him a lazy, satisfied smile.

  “Change these sheets, will you?” said Will as he stood over her. He didn’t wait for an answer.

  Ghost was back in the den, gathering up a handful of beers for the crowd outside. He looked down the hall when Will emerged and gave him a big, shit-eating grin. “Heard that!”

  “Fuck you!” Will flipped him the bird and didn’t stop walking.

  “You don’t deserve it twice in one day!” Ghost’s voice trailed him down the hall. Will only laughed and shut the clubhouse door behind him.

  He headed to his bike and got her revved up before he looked at his watch again. Close enough to dinner time that he might as well head out to the bakery. It’s not like his grandmother would mind the early company, anyway. If he was lucky, he might be able to sneak a piece of cake or some incredible pastry before dinner when she wasn’t looking. His stomach rumbled at the thought.

  Will maneuvered through LeBeau, the streets buzzing with Friday night life, until he hit the highway and lay on the throttle. The wind in his face felt freeing, relaxing. He chased the sunlight around the curvy mountain pass until he hit the first exit for Howlett, and then pulled his bike off the highway and into town. He could make this trip to his grandmother’s bakery with his eyes closed, he’d been doing it for so long. It had been almost seven years since his grandfather died, and since then, he had helped his grandmother open her bakery in Howlett to keep her happy and healthy without her husband around. And every Friday night, he made the trip fro
m LeBeau to sit at her table and eat her delicious homemade food, and talk to her about books and old films while she played a Sarah Vaughan or Robert Johnson album on the record player.

  Will’s mother had been a troubled woman, he was told. Smart, but her mind weighed on her happiness. She was too lost to be a mother. His grandmother’s voice echoed in his mind: One foot in this world, one foot in the other. She left Will with her parents when he was an infant and never came back. They raised him as their own, and Will had never wanted for anything. Sophia was as much his mother as anyone would ever be, and he looked forward to their dinners all week.

  As Will waited at a stoplight on Main and Temple, he was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of sirens nearby. He turned around on his bike to spot where they were coming from, ready to get out of the way if he had to. A fire engine and two police cruisers came roaring up Main, swerving around the line of cars and into the lanes of oncoming traffic, stopping only long enough to clear the intersection before they rushed on. Will followed as the light turned and traffic coasted on down the street. When he turned onto Rowan Avenue and up the slight hilly incline toward Delphi Lane, he could still see the flashing lights of the first responders up ahead, and tried to hang back so as not to catch up with them.