Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

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Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 178

by Kathryn C. Kelly


  Outlaw drank again, paced, drank a little more, then leaned against the chest of drawers. He scratched his jaw. “I got a cousin. Johnnie. We used to be close.” He raised his fingers and entwined them. “Like this. But Johnnie good. He got a great fuckin’ future ahead of him. I fuckin’ miss him sometimes, but it is what the fuck it is. Wish our lives coulda been closer together. It ain’t, though.” He drank again and belched. “Met Big Joe and K-P when I was fuckin’ ten. Met Rack, too, but that ain’t somethin’ to be fuckin’ happy ‘bout. Neither was meetin’ Joey. Wouldn’t wish that motherfucker on my worse fuckin’ enemy. Ain’t never fuckin’ knowin’ why motherfuckers embrace me. Know it ain’t cuz of Logan. Maybe, it’s Big Joe? I don’t fuckin’ know. Them two days we was all together last week, I got the feelin’ you was pretty solid. A man of your word and a loyal motherfucker. I fuckin’ liked you, so when you fuckin’ asked to ride out, I fuckin’ brought you. As simple as that.”

  “Simple? What you just said sounds complicated like fuck. I don’t know who the fuck Joey and Johnnie are. Wish I’d never met Logan. Not too sure about K-P. Scared like a motherfucker of Boss or Big Joe or whoever the fuck he wants to be. And try to stay far the fuck away from Rack.”

  Outlaw laughed. “See? Fast fuckin’ learner, at least ‘bout Logan and Rack.” He straightened. “Point fuckin’ is, I gotcha back. You need me, I’m right fuckin’ here. You wasn’t plannin’ on stayin’ forever. You was goin’ back in the fall for school.”

  Luke hung his head in his hands, remembering the cruelty Logan directed at Outlaw because Outlaw had gone to Logan on Luke’s behalf. Big Joe had made him do it, too. Outlaw had wanted Luke in the club and he’d gotten a good dose of humiliation himself. Then, at the end, Big Joe had claimed the decision was his to make, so all that Outlaw went through was pointless.

  “I didn’t thank you for earlier. The way you stood up for me. Backed me up by pretending you’d leave with me.”

  “Fuck all to do with pretendin’. I was serious like a motherfucker.” Outlaw reached for the bottle of vodka. “Just to add more motherfuckers to the fuckin’ mix you don’t fuckin’ know? I got two little sisters…” his voice trailed off and he made a face. “I got five of them fuckin’ bitches but only two worth talkin’ ‘bout. I got a Ma, too. Ma, Bitsy, and Fee need me. I can’t leave them at Logan’s hands. Besides, don’t know fuck all else to do but what the fuck I do.”

  “What do you do?”

  Opening the vodka and drinking from it, he wiped his mouth. “Stuff.”

  “What—?”

  “Don’t fuckin’ matter. Can’t tell you unless you fuckin’ in. Even then gotta be fuckin’ careful.”

  “If I go, all that you went through with Logan would be for nothing.”

  Outlaw cocked his head to the side. “If you go, beatin’ Matt’s ass woulda been for nothin’ too.”

  “No, that was for something. He fucked my girlfriend. He needed his dick cut off.”

  “What the fuck ‘bout her? She opened her pussy to him after tryin’ to give me some. You wanna fuckin’ lay blame, lay it on Charlemagne, too.”

  Char was spoiled and confused. She liked to have her way. It was up to everyone else to keep her in line. She needed Luke to protect her. He understood her like no one else did.

  “I didn’t do better. I fucked another girl.”

  “We fucked another girl.”

  “Roscoe still had something to do with it!”

  Outlaw held the bottle midway to his lips, his brows drawing together. “Who the fuck Roscoe?”

  “My di…nevermind,” Luke bit out when Outlaw’s confusion turned to amusement.

  “Fuck, you got serious dick love goin’ on if you named the motherfucker. Roscoe?”

  Heat crept up Luke’s neck and he scowled at Outlaw. “Shut up.”

  The laughter died in an instant and Outlaw narrowed his eyes. “Shit goin’ fuckin’ good, Luke. Ain’t wantin’ to fuck you up cuz you disrespectin’ me.”

  “You power tripping, too?”

  “Nope. Keepin’ it fuckin’ real. One motherfucker disrespect you, then every other fuckhead join in. Power fuckin’ staggered round this motherfucker. I answer to Big Joe.”

  “Mostly,” Luke corrected with a snort.

  “I listen to him where the fuck it count. Big Joe answer to Logan when it suit him. Every fuckin’ body else gotta answer to all the officers. Some in the general membership got more powers than others. And Probates just fuckin’ whippin’ boys.”

  Luke stiffened.

  “Listen up. You stay, I ain’t fuckin’ watchin’ my words. You leave, I ain’t fuckin’ watchin’ them. Logan a dirty, filthy motherfucker. Ain’t ever gonna get tired of sayin’ that. His fuckin’ words hurt. If you ain’t Johnnie, Bitsy, Big Joe, or Ma, he ain’t havin’ much nice shit to say ‘bout your fuckin’ ass. Round here? Big Joe, K-P, even Rack, call me boy. A lot of the lifers call us young fucks “boys” cuz we is. To you when they say it, it’s gonna come out soundin’ wrong, but they ain’t ‘bout to censor shit for your sensibilities. You either getcha head outta your fuckin’ ass and give ‘em what the fuck you get or get the fuck out, Luke. Simple shit.”

  “I didn’t see one minority since I’ve been here.”

  “Guess you ain’t since we ain’t got none in this fuckin’ club. Ain’t how most of these fuckin’ clubs work. You stay where you at and I stay where I’m at most of the time.”

  “So you trying to make history?”

  Outlaw chuckled. “Not this fuckin’ way.” He held the almost-empty bottle out. “Drink. One small sip.”

  Not seeing any choice, Luke got up and did as instructed then handed it back to Outlaw, who finished the bottle.

  “See what the fuck we just did? We drank from the same fuckin’ bottle and ain’t either of us die, huh? It don’t matter what the fuck other motherfuckers do. Just matter what the fuck you do. It matter how you let other motherfuckers treat you. You took a fuckin’ sip cuz I told you. You had every fuckin’ right to say no. Ain’t woulda been disrespect. It woulda been standin’ the fuck up for yourself.”

  “I never been around prejudice.”

  Outlaw hooted with laughter. “You either a naïve motherfucker or a blind one. You fuckin’ prejudiced, assfuck. We all is. But most of us ain’t fuckin’ racist.” He backed toward the door. “Listen up. I ain’t goin’ fuckin’ round and round ‘bout color. One color matter most to me.”

  “Yeah, bro. Green matters to everybody.”

  “Ain’t green I’m talkin’ ‘bout, Luke. Red. Red matter to me. You bleed fuckin’ red like me? That’s all the fuck that matter.”

  The thought had never occurred to Luke and it sank into his head, altering his view in an instant.

  “You stay, you ain’t bein’ some kind of fuckin’ trailblazin’ example. Ain’t even guaranteed you patchin’ in cuz things get intense round this motherfucker. This might not be for fuckin’ you. If it is, long as you give the club your loyalty, we givin’ you ours. So, motherfucker, you stayin’ for the summer? We ridin’ out to the pussy party in a few. You leavin’? I’ll bring you back to Cali my-fuckin-self and wish you the best of every-fuckin’ thing.” He opened the door. “I’m headin’ out in ‘bout an hour. Meet me in the main room if you comin’ with me. Right now, I’m goin’ have my dick sucked.”

  Guilt slammed into him at the punch of desire he felt at the thought of having a girl wrap her lips around his own dick. The chick Outlaw found for them a few days ago had sex with Luke while she sucked Outlaw off. She’d offered to do the same to him, but, by then, Luke had been so confused over his feelings for Char, he’d declined and waited outside until Outlaw had his fill of her.

  Once Outlaw left, Luke stood up and found his phone, not knowing what to do, all that K-P and Outlaw told him swirling in his head.

  Another knock came on his door.

  “Come in.”

  A girl walked in. She was pretty with a ring in her nose and a lin
e of studs along her ears. Her steel blue eyes gave him the once over and she giggled, holding out a stack containing clothes, socks, and towels with a bar soap crowning it. “I’m Hopper.” She nodded her head to what was in her hands. “Big Joe thought you might need these.”

  She sat everything on the chest of drawers, long enough for Luke to see the words “Property of the Death Dwellers MC’ on the back of her little shirt. She faced him again, her nipples pressed up against her top.

  As much as he wanted to keep his eyes on her face, he couldn’t. Her body, more specifically her breasts, kept drawing his attention.

  She walked closer to him, stood on her tiptoes and nipped his chin. Her hands roamed over his chest and trailed down to the bulge in his pants. “You got condoms?” she breathed, lifting his shirt from his waistband.

  Her tongue slid across his bare skin and goose bumps raised up on his flesh. Unable to resist, he wrapped her in his arms and slanted his mouth over hers, her low moan going to his head. Roscoe jumped.

  “Condom,” she demanded, yanking off her top and shoving her hands into his waistband. She grabbed his cock and massaged him. Luke gasped. “I’m going to ride all the cum out of you,” she swore, licking his nipple.

  She dropped to her knees and unzipped his fly, pulling his dick out and running her tongue over the head.

  She sucked him into her mouth and he groaned, the urge to stuff his cock down her throat almost overwhelming.

  “Hopper, get the fuck outta here,” an unfamiliar voice ordered.

  The command snapped Luke out of his haze as Hopper scrambled to her feet.

  Nostrils flaring, a big man with a bandanna wrapped around his head eyed Luke, who shoved his dick back inside his boxers and closed his jeans up.

  “You was just sent into to deliver clothes. Not suck this one’s dick.”

  Not responding, Hopper smirked at the other man and sashayed out of the room, ignoring his ferocious scowl. The moment she left, the other man rushed to Luke and stood nose-to-nose with him.

  “You wanted to fuck her?”

  Luke wouldn’t be intimidated nor would he lie. Real men backed up their words with actions and their actions with ownership. He wanted to fuck her, so he’d own it instead of denying it. This stranger’s blood was as red as his and right now, fucking green didn’t matter. Luke bet the other man had more money than he could piss together at the moment, anyway.

  He nodded.

  The man laughed. “I’m Tex. Stay away from Hopper, boy.”

  “Fuck you—”

  Tex shrugged. “It’s about seven o’clock. Bitch done already fucked six or seven times and ain’t did nothing but used a little rag to wipe the cum from her pussy. I’m telling you don’t fuck her. If you do, best find her about nine or ten o’clock in the morning.”

  “That’s fucking disgusting.”

  “Don’t care. It’s the truth. Why the fuck you think she’s called Hopper? Hop from one fucking bed to the next all fucking day.” He shrugged. “That’s what her pussy is here for though.”

  “She’s young.”

  “Twenty,” he confirmed. “But that’s Rack’s bitch and that’s what the fuck he makes her do. She got good pussy. I’ll give her that.” Tex gave him a thoughtful look. “I can always send her back in here and she can shower with you.”

  “No thank you.”

  Tex laughed. “Outlaw saw Big Joe sending her this way. He sent me in here when she didn’t come right out. We knew what the fuck was up. He said you not sure what you want to do and you got an old lady back in Cali. He didn’t want you to regret letting your dick start thinking for you. Hopper can be persuasive. Even got Outlaw to fuck her a couple times, and his motto is bitches gotta be drinking age to get dick from him.” He eyed Luke shrewdly. “If you do want pussy, there’s going to be a lot to get at the party later tonight. Ever pulled a train?”

  “A what?”

  “That’s what I thought. If you leaving, Outlaw said it won’t be until tomorrow. Party with us tonight. You don’t got to participate. You can watch and learn and bring new shit back to your old lady.”

  “Char isn’t old. She’s twenty, too.”

  Tex stared at him, then smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “You got a lotta shit to learn, huh, son?”

  With that cryptic observation, Tex turned and walked out of the room, leaving Luke to decide if he wanted to go to the pussy party or not.

  Chapter Three: Pussy, Pussy, Pussy

  Luke paused right inside the door of the building where the party was taking place. It was a multi-level party, it seemed. Lights blazed from the second and third floors, silhouetting a multitude of people.

  A sea of chrome and enamel glinted in the parking lot. While Outlaw weaved his way toward the pathway, Luke had gaped in awe at the beautiful bikes, shining like jewels in the waning day. When he reached level ground and realized Luke wasn’t right with him, Outlaw stopped, turned, and beckoned him with impatience. Along the way, he’d stop and introduce Luke to this one or that one, and he’d get a cool nod in return. Not much friendliness.

  Now, Outlaw was already crossing the room, headed to a group of men, surrounded by a bigger group of women. Naked women.

  Luke’s phone buzzed and he fumbled inside his pocket to pull it out. Seeing Char’s face on the screen, he backed toward the door, regretting his presence there.

  The ringer stopped and a moment later a text came through. He scowled at it. He didn’t like to text. His fingers were just too big, always pressing other buttons and ending up with unintelligible words.

  Lucas?

  Using his pinky, he started the painful task of reply. Before he could, she sent another one.

  I hope you’re having fun. I am. By the time we see each other again, we’ll have a lot of experiences to exchange. I love you.

  Swallowing hard, Luke read the text and reread it. It wasn’t the words he saw, but the ones she implied. Carefully, he tapped on the phone, wishing he’d never found a charger at the club for it.

  U fikde ithwr pwole.

  No surprise her response. Huh?

  U fckd othr ppl

  Are you asking if I’ve fucked others?

  Why the hell did she write complete sentences on a text? He couldn’t do it, so he simply typed, Y.

  Of course. Aren’t you? We are exploring others until next year when we’re exclusive.

  Luke couldn’t think of an appropriate response. He couldn’t even pretend shock. She had told him that…

  “H-hi.”

  A soft, hesitant voice reached Luke’s brain and he focused on the girl in front of him. Not quite naked, but damn near with nothing but a thong on.

  “I’m Snow.”

  Glancing between the girl and his silent phone, Luke frowned. He pushed aside the desire to continue texting Char and shoved the phone in his front pocket. “Snow?”

  She smiled and indicated herself with a wave of her hand. “Because of how pale I am.”

  She was very pale, Luke realized. With jet black hair and dark brown eyes, heavily lined with kohl. She sized him up again, but her focus kept returning to his hair.

  “It’s hair.”

  Ignoring him, she stood on her tiptoes and touched it, her fingers grazing his jaw. “You’re pretty,” she whispered.

  Insulted, he stiffened. “That’s supposed to be my line to you, girl. You don’t go around calling dudes pretty.”

  Her cheeks flushed and she stepped back. “Are you here for the party?” she asked, lowering her lashes.

  He was supposed to be, but Outlaw had disappeared, Luke noted, and so had three girls. Completely out of his comfort zone, he heaved in a breath,

  Snow touched his arm, and he noted the contrast in their colors. It didn’t fascinate him as much as it seemed to fascinate her. He snatched his arm away and glared at her.

  “Sorry,” she said again, too quickly, as if he’d strangle her. She jabbed a finger over her shoulder, toward the table where Outl
aw had first headed to. “I belong to them.”

  “What do you mean belong to them? Are you a slave?”

  Her eyes rounded at his words and he gritted his teeth, remembering the conversation about everyone being called a boy at the club. If he’d get offended by it, then it wasn’t the right place for him.

  He supposed that was the case here. Snow was hesitant to talk too freely to him, because it was obvious she didn’t want to offend him. He sighed. “How do you belong to them?”

  She huffed out a nervous laugh. “I’m their property. Club property.” She pursed her lips. “A club whore.”

  “And that makes you belong to them?” he asked slowly.

  “I’m under their protection,” she added.

  “I need to know this why?”

  She inched back. “Just because,” she mumbled, then shifted her weight. “Um, are you a Dweller?” She swept her gaze over him again.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Well, yeah. This is for members of the clubs and their guests. You, um, you know you don’t…” She flushed a little more and raised pleading eyes to him, glancing nervously over her shoulder. “There’s not a lot of mixing,” she blurted quickly.

  He’d already figured that out. Here and there, he noted Hispanic men, but that was it. Of course, the street gangs in LA were segregated, too.

  “S-so are you? A Dweller?”

  “I’m Outlaw’s friend,” he told her calmly, but saw she already had knowledge of that. So why the interrogation?

  “O-okay,” she said quietly. Without another word, she dropped to her knees and began to unbuckle his belt.

  He jerked away from her and stumbled back. “What are you doing?”

  “Welcoming you. Just like Outlaw said to do.”

  “A minute ago you didn’t believe—”

  “They didn’t know if he was joking or not.” She frowned. “You don’t want your dick sucked?”

  Now, how the hell should he answer that? Honestly, with a fuck, yeah, suck me dry like Char does? Or, maybe, lie his ass off and tell her he wasn’t interested?

 

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