After Charlie made love to me again and again over a period of two or three days, (I lost count), I called the detective in Nashville who was working on my missing person case and told him that I took off the day of the fire with my boyfriend and that I needed a break from the pressure of school. I don't know if he bought my story, but they called off the search and reported me found safe. I haven’t called my parents yet even though I know I should. I know that even though they don’t always show it, they love me and are worried.
I promised Charlie, I’ll call them first thing tomorrow. We have other pressing matters to take care of. He must face his club. I don't know what they will do to him, but he said he will pay the cost.
I’m scared for him even though he swears I don’t need to be.
“Stop squirming.” He holds me down as he works on tattooing his property patch as he calls it on my left arm. He wouldn't tell me what he was putting on me. Said it will be a surprise.
“I’m nervous.”
“Nuttin’ to worry ‘bout. I can take care of myself.”
The tattoo gun stops buzzing and he kisses my lips. He rubs the gel stuff on my fresh ink and covers it with a bandage.
“Seriously!” I whine.
“Yup.” He grins. “You’ll see it when the time's right.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes and hop off the kitchen counter.
Charlie grabs my face. “Don’t fuckin’ roll your eyes at me.”
“Don’t give me reason to,” I sass, and he shuts me up by shoving his tongue down my throat. His hands quickly roam to my backside as I work on undoing his zipper.
His erection juts out and I slide down to my knees, bringing his ripped jeans down with me.
I grip his thick cock and lick the head of his shaft, teasing him.
“Damn, princess,” he hisses as I lick my palm and then tighten my grip on him.
He rocks into my mouth and I take every inch until his tip hits the back of my throat. Back and forth, in and out, he slides his shaft through the opening of my mouth as I flatten my tongue and suck.
With his fingers laced in my hair, Charlie is relentless as he fucks my mouth, thrusting faster and faster as tears well up in my eyes from the pressure building as he swells, ready to cum down my throat. He pops out of my mouth and is jerking me up to my feet.
“Only way I am cumming is in that sweet pussy that belongs to me,” he growls as he spins me around. I brace my hands on the counter as he slides my shorts down my legs. He puts a palm to my stomach and lines up with my velvet heat, ready to fulfill his need.
My man rams into me knowing how rough I like it. His hand comes up and around my throat applying a pleasurable pressure. One that says he owns me. And he does. Charlie possesses me mind, body, and soul.
I’m his and he is mine.
Nothing or nobody will ever stand between us.
At least that is what I believe until his cell phone rings.
His hand leaves my throat and I watch as his fingers reach for his phone on the counter. He swipes his finger over the screen accepting the call.
“Just saw the news, brother.” The voice on the other end of the line drips with sarcasm. “Clubhouse. Church. Be there.” His tone is menacing, and I feel weak in the knees as the call ends.
Charlie doesn't say anything and goes back to taking what he wants.
I can’t stop the fear growing in the pit of my stomach.
“What's wrong. You were fucking slick as an oil spill a second ago and now you are as dry as the Sahara.”
“Ha. Ha,” I deadpan.
“Told you, sugar tits. Nuttin’ to worry ‘bout.” His hands come up and squeeze my breasts.
“Charlie, this is serious. I watched that biker show. This won’t be taken lightly.”
A deep laughter rumbles from his belly and he slips out of me, doubling over. “Baby, that show ain’t real life. Some of it yeah—it's like that but not everything is real and true. I got this. Now do you got me?”
“Yeah, Charlie...I got you.” I stalk toward him, and grab his hand, leading him to the bedroom.
Chapter Twenty-six
—Boogeyman—
When I roll up to the clubhouse with Shelly on the back of my bike and see the full lot of motorcycles, shit starts to feel real. I know I have a lot to answer for and my punishment will be ugly but just. Whatever Hades decides I know he won’t touch Shelly. She has my patch on her arm. I park my bike and help her off. I can tell she’s trying to hold it together on the outside. I know the last time she was here she wasn’t welcomed with open arms.
I wrap my arms around her hips and stare deep into her caramel eyes. “No matter what is waiting on the other side of that door, you need to know that I love you, and I will come back to you. Might be with a few broken bones and bloodshed but I’m not fucking going anywhere.”
“I know.” She gives me a faint smile and then I kiss her hard and deep like it's the last time I will ever taste her lips, because it very well could be. I can’t predict my fate, but I won’t go down without a fight.
Tucking her hand in mine, I lead her inside. The moment we step through the door all the noise dies down. The jukebox cuts off and all eyes are on us.
Hades snarls at me the second our eyes meet. I give him a chin lift and walk toward him, dragging a reluctant Shelly behind me, shielding her with my body even though I don’t think she is in any real danger.
“I’m here. I think you know, Shelly.”
Hades rubs his jaw.
“Wish I could say it’s nice to see you again, Shelly, but you’re a risk. I don’t like loose ends.”
“Got nothing to worry about. She will keep her mouth shut. I know you aren’t like Marek, so you won’t touch her.” I pull the bandage off her arm, revealing her fresh ink. A Devils Reject’s property patch that reads: Boogeyman’s Dream.
“If I were anything like Marek you’d be tied to a damn chair and forced to watch while we all fucked your girl. But you know that isn’t my style.” He fingers her tattoo. “So, it’s like that, huh? She’s your bitch.” My nostrils flare as he stands up from his seat.
“Yeah, it’s like that.”
He motions to Terror. “Question his bitch.”
Terror smiles at me with a sadistic grin. That fucker is ex-military some special forces shit. His methods of interrogation are rough, but I know he won’t touch her unless he wants me to repay the favor with Amber.
My eyes darken as he grabs Shelly by her other arm. The one I didn't just tattoo. I don't like any man, brother or not, who isn’t me, touching her.
“You’ll be fine. Terror knows that however he treats you I’ll treat his woman with the same regard,” I remind him that I’m not to be fucked with. His smile fades and Shelly goes with him willingly.
Uno, Reaper, Cupid, Hades, and Zo Zo crowd around me. “Take his cut. He isn’t fit to wear it until I determine otherwise,” Hades barks the order, but I shrug the leather off before they can touch me.
Reaper grabs me by the back of the neck and shoves me toward the stairs that lead to the basement.
I’m not taken to church.
I am lead to one of the holding cells.
Hades steps in with me first. He doesn’t say a word goes straight for me, punching me square in the jaw. I think the bastard loosened a tooth. I spit a mouthful of blood on the ground but don’t raise a hand to defend myself. I earned his wrath and I’ll take it like a man.
“I should kill you for going against my orders. Make an example of you and your girl. I told you to end her. Is she worth it—worth losing your cut?”
“I’d go to war with anyone for her. So yeah, whatever you want to bring down on me fucking get to it.”
“She looks like your stepsister. Doesn't she. The girl’s portrait tattooed on your arm?” He raises my sleeve and stares at the tattoo for a minute. “I know you got demons, but you should have come to me. I don’t fucking like this shit. But as your Prez and your brother, I’m going to let you off thi
s one fucking time. If she opens her mouth, it’s both your Goddamned heads. Don’t make me sorry I’m not putting a bullet through you both right now. Uno, he owes you for all the shit he’s been spouting your way. He’s all yours. Make it fucking count.”
Reaper hangs my cut on the top of the cell door and Uno steps in grinning at me. Hades and the rest of my brothers walk upstairs leaving the two of us alone.
Uno pulls his brass knuckles from the inner pocket of his cut.
I motion for him to come get some. “Come on, pretty boy. Show me how tough you are. I bet your bitch can hit harder than you.” Uno got his name because it only takes him one punch to lay someone out in a fight. He’s small but that fucker packs a punch.
He grins lazily at me and lands three well executed jabs to my ribs.
Pain shoots through my side and up my chest but I grimace and take it.
Another punch hits me right in the damn kidney. I am a tough bastard, but it takes me down on my knee. The fucker dances around me in a circle hitting me with fast jabs. My whole damn back is going to be bruised. He lands one final blow to my gut. I feel like I am going to puke but fight the urge down.
“That’s it?” I grin at him with bloody teeth.
“Nope. Need a favor.”
I go to laugh but it hurts too damn bad.
Uno stares me down. Something flashes behind his eyes that I can’t quite place.
“You know how to make people talk and you also know how to make them disappear. Stephanie told me she can’t have kids, but I think she’s full of shit. Need you to find out if she’s lying to me.”
“And if she is? Lying that is.”
“I want you to make her disappear.”
“Hades know about this?”
“Who do you think gave me the idea?” He gives me a half smile.
“You sure that it's what you want?”
He nods once. “I’m sure.” Then the bastard pops me right in the Goddamn nose and I am out cold.
———
When I come to, I feel like my balls have been soaking in ice water. I go to rub them but am stopped short by the cuffs attached to the headboard of the bed in my room at the clubhouse. I know it’s my room by the picture of Kristen framed on my dresser. Everything fucking hurts. It hurts to motherfucking breathe. I look around the room and find my Shelly between my legs with an ice cube between her lips, rubbing it up and down my shaft.
Her eyes meet mine and she crunches the melting cube between her teeth.
“What the hell are you doing?” I croak.
“Waking you up.” She flashes her sugary sweet smile at me.
“Are the cuffs necessary?”
“You’re a shit patient. And I am having too much fun. Payback’s a bitch.” She slides up over my body, being careful of my now taped ribs.
“How long was I out?”
“Two days. Terror gave you something for the pain. I made sure he stuck the needle in your ass.” She winks, and I growl.
“Fun’s over. Remove the cuffs so I can spank your ass.”
“They only come off with my key.” She grabs the key from the top of the nightstand by the head of the bed and taunts me with it, rubbing it up and down her cleavage.
“You aren’t playing fair.”
“I know.” Leaning forward she traces the outline of my lips with her tongue.
“Need to touch you, princess.”
“I’ll be doing the touching.” She leans back, and I see that she has on a denim skirt and no fucking panties. Her deft fingers move to her clit, rubbing in a circle as she throws her head back.
“Shelly, I will only warn you one time. Take the fucking cuffs off. I’m about damn near ready to piss the bed.”
That stops her in her tracks. “Fine.”
The cuffs come off and I move slowly to fully sit up. Goddamn my body aches.
“Let me help you.”
“I got it.” I wave her off.
It takes me a few minutes to make the short walk to the bathroom, but I do it on my own. I feel like I was ran over by a truck.
I relieve my bladder and wash up the best I can. I toss back a few painkillers and return to Shelly.
She’s sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for me, looking like a dream come true.
“What have you been doing while I was sleeping?” I sink down on the bed next to her.
“Getting to know my way around the club. I had dinner with Sara, Amber, and MaryAnn last night. They seem pretty chill.”
“Good. Glad you like them.”
“So…I have been talking to my dad…”
“And?” I raise a brow at her.
“He wants to meet you.”
“Not happening.”
“Please, Charlie. For me,” she pouts, and I can’t resist. I’d do anything for her.
She’s my dream girl.
The End.
Author’s Note
I hope you enjoyed the wild ride. Boogeyman fought me every step of the way while I was writing his story. He’s an alphahole. It had to be his way or no way. If you enjoyed this story I hope you will consider leaving a review. I don’t know which story is up next in the series but will announce it on my website and media in upcoming months.
Thank you,
Glenna
About Glenna
Glenna Maynard is a Kentucky native with a passion for romance, best known for her bestselling romantic suspense novel I'm with You and The Black Rebel Riders' MC series. When she isn't arguing with the voices in her head or drinking reader tears, she enjoys watching classic TV shows with her two children and longtime leading man.
You can also find Glenna on several social media sites including Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, WordPress, Google+ and Goodreads. You are also invited to join her reader group on Facebook just search for Glenna’s Rebels.
You can find her website at www.glennamaynard.com
Books by Glenna
Black Rebel Riders MC’ Series
Grim The Beginning
Rumor
Baby
Striker
Romeo
Heart of A Rebel
A Rebel Love
A Rebel In The Roses
Blood of A Rebel
The Devil’s Rebel
Devils Rejects
Hades’ Flame
Boogeyman’s Dream
Cupid’s Arrow
Reaper’s Till Death
Standalone Titles
Beauty & The Biker
Lil’ Red & The Big Bad Biker
Don’t Let Me Go
Cooper’s Religion: The Suffocation of Katie
Dirty Love
Dirty Truth
Dirty Neighbor
When It Rains
Born Sinner
The Stealing Conleigh Duet
Stealing Conleigh Part 1
Stealing Conleigh Part 2
Must Love Curves
The Roommate Pact
Cowritten with Dawn Martens
The Boom
You Wreck Me (The Prospect series book 1)
Preview Beauty & The Biker
Chapter 2
ISABELLA
VANDACAMP MANSION WAS said to have once been a grand castle. It’s stood for over two-hundred years, hidden in the backwoods of a forgotten town, Eden. The mansion has been passed from generation to generation to the Vandacamp heir. I have only seen it once, when I was a child on a business lunch with my father. I was terrified. The home reminds me of something out of a medieval movie. Built of dark grey stones and bricks, it is very much a castle, complete with a round tower and what was once a dungeon. It gives me the creeps.
Thinking back on it now gives me shivers. It was so dark and cold inside. Like love had never lived there.
I gloss over the rest of the article in the newspaper about the historical home and the man who now inherits the Vandacamp legacy after the sudden passing of Angelo, the head of the family.
The c
urrent heir, Tristian Vandacamp, is the type of man you will cross the street to avoid at all cost. Known to most as an enforcer for a violent motorcycle club—Depraved Sinners, the men who run this town and everyone in it. They own everything, keeping the rest of us hostage. No one can afford to leave, so we are all forced to stay. They are notorious for ruining anyone who stands in their way. I’ve heard whispers about Tristian, they say he has no soul and that is why he looks the way he does. Rumor has it he once killed a man with his bare hands for pronouncing his name wrong. I’m not sure I buy into all the hype though.
My father has done his best in shielding me from them, but I have seen Tristian and his gang riding through town, appearing as if he has risen from hell itself, from the window of my family’s bookstore.
The Book Nook was my mother’s dream and my Papi has tried so hard to keep it thriving. The store has never been his passion, but he has held on, trying to keep her memory alive. Besides, it isn’t as if he has a choice to do otherwise. We have nowhere else to go and no way to get there.
He has my sister’s and me to care for. I am the youngest of three. Elsabeth is the oldest, and the only one of us to get married. Her husband, Felix, manages the local sanitation company. My sister the garbage queen. I would have never thought that would ever happen, but she fell in love. Her and Felix are always kissing and being so romantic. I want that someday—the passion they share. They are expecting their first child later this year. They shared the news with us over the weekend.
My father cannot wait to have his first grandchild. We all wish my mother were here for times like this. She was always so graceful and knew exactly what to do or say. When she lost her battle with Lupus, it was hard on us all, but mainly my sister, Ariala.
Ariala is wild. She is always chasing after the wrong men. Men who keep company with Tristian no doubt. She wasn’t always like this but since mom passed away she has been lashing out, warranting the wrong kind of attention. I never imagined she would act out the way she has. Always out late, if she comes home at all. My dad stays stressed and worried about her welfare.
The staying out isn’t the worst of her offenses, she has a serious drug problem that she tries to hide but I can see it. I just don’t know why everyone else can’t. She bleeds our father dry. I caught her taking money from his wallet a few days ago and when I confronted her, she had the audacity to lie and say Papi owed her money.
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