Devil's Ride: RBMC Tonopah, NV

by Nikki Landis

  “God, Grim. Yes, just like that.”

  She reached between her legs and played with her clit as I felt her channel slicken with her juices.

  “Damn, angel. You keep doing that and I’m gonna explode soon.”

  She moaned in response, moving her fingers faster and I picked up my pace, punishing in my rhythm as I fucked her down and into the mattress. It wouldn’t be long. I could feel her quivering. She clamped down on my cock and then cried out, her legs shaking as she came so hard that a long wail left her lips. Loud enough to make sure that every single person in the Crossroads knew I was fucking her that good. Pleased, I increased my pace and gave her a few more strokes before my head tilted back and I roared her name. Star danced in front of my eyes and I saw actual spots as my dick flooded her with my cum. I wanted every club whore or cookie to know that I was taken.

  My ol’ lady fucked me good. I didn’t need any other woman.

  I collapsed onto Trish and placed a kiss on her neck and then rolled over, pulling her into my embrace. My mouth met hers as she lifted her head.

  “Mmmm, that was wonderful,” she yawned as we parted, laying her head down on my chest.

  “Sure was, my angel. Get some sleep. I’m not leaving you.”

  “Good,” she whispered. “I don’t like to sleep here without you.”

  Not that it happened often but duly noted. I’d make every effort to ensure I slept next to her each night. Wasn’t always possible. Not with my life in the MC. I was the pres. Shit went down often and I had to deal with it. But right now, holding her tight, I could fall asleep with the knowledge that she was mine and neither of us were going anywhere.

  ***

  The next few days lapsed without incident. Seemed like the Scorpions were leaving us alone, but I never trusted the quiet. It was always the calm before a storm. History was pretty accurate in that regard. Peace was never long lasting. Just wasn’t how life worked in the MC.

  I found out sooner than I wanted when I found a package on my desk later that afternoon. Trish was still here at the Crossroads, but she had to return to work tonight. I told her she didn’t need to worry about money, but she wasn’t listening. Too damn independent. She wasn’t letting me take care of her which was both endearing and completely fucking irritating.

  I opened the package and slid a metal letter opener along the seam, dumping the contents onto my desk. A curse left my lips when I saw photos of Trish and Suraya at the Blacktop, their apartment, and then finally here at the Crossroads. The photos were taken through windows and when the girls wandered outside and close to the repair shop.

  Our auto repair business was located conveniently next door and attached to the rest of the clubhouse. It was once an old hangar the military used for planes and testing. It had been sold decades ago. One of the things Keys left me was the deed which I promptly renamed the Crossroads in celebration of our transformation into Reapers.

  When I glanced up and out my window, I could see rows of motorcycles lined up outside with my dad’s Harley in the number one space. Several black vans and SUV’s were parked around the lot. Bays for the shop were open wide as most of the guys worked in the garage and made extra cash. It was our legit business and easier to filter the tainted cash through those invoices and out of pockets. Extra expenses and parts were easy to explain. We often upgraded supplies, tools, and whatever other equipment we needed. State of the art shit.

  Ex and Wraith were usually in charge of that. The two brothers were practically married to their jobs in the garage and ran the place like a couple of mother hens. Everything was coded and logged into their system. Nothing out of place. Really didn’t go well with the others.

  Bodie couldn’t remember shit. He misplaced everything. The prospects were fuckups and practically broke everything they touched. Hannibal tossed shit wherever he wanted. Papa occasionally showed up and messed with the bookkeeping on purpose just to start a little drama. Mammoth didn’t give a shit about the shop and skipped it altogether. As V.P. he had that right. Rael only worked on motorcycles and he was damn good at it. Lucky only worked on cars so it was a good balance. That left Diablo who showed up part time when it suited him. Since he was our cleaner, I didn’t give him shit about it. He had enough to deal with. Patriot was a natural talent. Must have been his time as a Marine. Anything he touched he made better. If I had a problem in the shop, I sent him in.

  Sighing, I glanced over the photos in my hand again and away from the distractions outside. These were sent to fuck with my head. A smart adversary knew their opponent and studied them for weakness. I’d been foolish enough to fully exposed mine. I had only two. My club and Trish Holloway.

  Opening my office door, I called Mammoth in along with Rael.

  “We got a problem. Razr and Acid have targeted the girls.” Razr was behind bars thanks to his illegal gun possession conviction but that only spurred him on more. Violence was coming. I could feel it.

  “I think we got a plan for that.” Rael leaned forward, a sinister grin on his face. “Acid is in for a surprise.”

  Two of Acid’s club members were in our basement. It wasn’t hard to lure them into a trap. The Scorpions reputation for drugs and running their stash through Tonopah was infamous. We didn’t deal with them often but decided to offer a little temptation when we let it slip someone was pushing large quantities of meth through the area. Just as we predicted, the idiots showed up at the fake exchange. Rael, Mammoth, and Ex brought them in. Diablo stayed behind to ensure we couldn’t be associated with the bodies left behind. Acid lost two men before the others surrendered and were brought blindfolded down inside the Crossroads.

  The two Scorpions were naked from the waist up as I glared in their direction. Each man was attached to a separate set of chains that ran vertical floor to ceiling and were pulled tight. I remembered those chains from eighteen years ago. Scary as fuck. Leather straps and additional chains attached their ankles and wrists. Movement was minimal. Fear was evident in their eyes but neither man broke, not at first.

  Didn’t matter. Once Rael stepped in, it wouldn’t take long.

  I’d seen countless men die. More than I would ever care to admit.

  Shit. I’d been the cause of many deaths. That was the life of a Reaper.

  There was something peaceful about death. A tranquility that couldn’t be obtained until the final release of the soul from the body. Sure, my brothers and I reaped many souls but those were dark with curling tendrils of corruption reaching out from within. A sinister shadow hovered over those who chose to harm others, specifically rapists, pedophiles, and murderers. Hell welcomed those souls the most. The ones that beckoned the hunger of the demons that thrived on the essence of the wicked.

  But other souls were pure. Light and free and gossamer in texture, nearly iridescent. Almost every color of the rainbow shimmered in that pretty translucent light. They were rare. Mostly children.

  Then there were others.

  Souls like Trish.

  Those with a tainted essence that came from experiencing trauma or deep loss. Rape. Incest. Murder. Torture. Those were just a few ways a soul could be touched and forever changed. They weren’t ugly. In fact, they were still as beautiful as the pure souls. There was light but it wasn’t white or transparent.

  No, those souls were an incredible amber/copper or silver texture. A metallic sheen that coated their aura but also spoke of the strength, resilience, and beauty within. Like they were forged from an angelic fire and rose from the ashes, made into something unbreakable.

  Maybe that was why I was drawn to Trish at such a young age. She’d only been ten at the time we met. Eighteen years ago. The exact same day that I accepted the Devil’s Ride and met the perfect, tainted, and beautiful soul that I would later meet in a rundown bar on the outskirts of Hawthorne, Nevada. Her aura had always been bright and beautiful, but it changed over the years. Something happened to her and I needed to find out why it wasn’t the same.

  I knew
one thing though.

  Tricia Holloway was a survivor.

  Just like me.

  We were two people with a painful and tragic past. Two souls lost in an unforgiving sea of monsters. Neither of us was good at traversing this life alone. We needed one another. Our souls had latched on, digging in deep into the flesh and bones of the other.

  It wasn’t just her. Or me. It was us.

  That was the way I saw it. My Reaper knew without a doubt that Trish was ours. She was destined to ride the Nevada desert on the back of my bike and tame the wild beast within. The same way I was destined to protect and care for the sexy little blonde and her numerous scars.

  Trish’s memory never faded over that eighteen years.

  I kept her close and hidden in my memories and my heart. Her stuffed bear was in a box in my bedroom closet. Someday soon I would show it to her and prove that she remained a part of my life all this time. Her aura was special to me and that hadn’t changed.

  Oddly enough, I was the only one among my brothers with this gift.

  No other Reaper saw the aura of those taken. The soul? Sure. We all got a brief glimpse of the soul once they were reaped. It was par for the course. A normal occurrence when you were commissioned by the devil himself. Souls were just an extension of the body. We had to die to transition, just like the vampire myth. There might not be any blood involved but the soul had to leave the body and that was complete and total permanent death.

  “What you want, pres?” Rael asked, putting on his apron.

  This was about to get messy.

  “Find out what you can.”

  “Want them alive?”

  “For now.”

  “Any limits?”

  Hell no. “Nope.”

  His dark laughter sent a chill up my spine. Crazy fucker.

  I turned on my heel and climbed back up the steps, making my way back to Trish. She had the night off and wanted to spend it together. A loud cry of pain echoed up from below and I shut the door at the top of the stairs, turning the lock. Rael had a key and Mammoth and Ex were with him.

  Trish’s laugh was close by and I realized she was waiting for me. I made my way through the clubhouse and found her in the common room. Most of the brothers were settling down with their women or club whores, playing pool or drinking at the bar. My gaze roamed the space and landed on my ol’ lady.

  The second I saw what she was wearing, I lost my shit.

  Short jean shorts barely covered her ass and nearly half the delicious mounds were visible as she sat on a stool at the bar and crossed her long bare legs. A tight tank top was missing the bottom portion and bared her entire stomach and part of her hip bones to the entire club. A black leather jacket that barely had enough material to boast that description covered her arms and shoulders while her tits were pushed upward together by a bra that exposed more than it concealed. Little black boots with heels were on her feet and I suddenly wanted to see them up in the air as I thrust inside her.

  When she saw me, Trish winked.

  She must have been fuckin’ high to think I was letting her go anywhere dressed like that. With me or without me. Didn’t matter. No man was going to stare at her rack or her ass except for me.

  I stomped over and yanked her up from the stool, slamming my lips down on hers. A few shouts of encouragement and whistles erupted around us as I flipped off the room. Laughter followed.

  When we separated, Trish was flushed.

  “Anyone see my ol’ lady dressed like this again, send her back to my room!” I shouted.

  More chuckles and a few shouts of agreement.

  “Grim!” she screeched.

  “You’ve pushed too far with this,” I growled into her ear. Picking Trish up, I groaned when her legs wrapped around my waist. “That ass belongs to me. No one else sees it. Flash some cleavage. Wear tight clothes. No fuckin’ tits and ass on display.”

  She pouted. “You’re not any fun.”

  “Is that right?” I asked, simmering with anger, and pleased to find my dick was happy to join this little discussion. “I’m fuckin’ hard and you’re gonna take every inch while I explain to you how this is gonna work.”

  We walked down the hall to my room as her nails creeped up my chest slowly. She leaned in as one hand traced the skin on the back of my neck. “I’m so wet for you, Grim.”

  I almost groaned but didn’t want to let her know how much that just turned me on. A little pink tongue darted from between her lips and she licked them while her gaze met mine. She was rubbing every body part that she could up against me. I could smell her arousal. Knowing she wanted me that badly did wicked things to my body. Her touch was an electric jolt on my skin. Her kiss an adrenaline rush straight to my brain as she leaned in and pressed her mouth to mine.

  I took that kiss and stopped, pinning her up against the wall and savagely capturing her lips, thrusting my tongue into her mouth as she moaned. Our tongue collided, twisting and playing an old game of seduction that never failed to excite us both. Grinding into her, I humped into her core as she closed her eyes, panting with need.

  “Dex, please.”

  Dex. She said my real name aloud in front of anyone who could hear. That shit meant she claimed me as much as I claimed her. Elated, I pulled back enough to stare into her eyes.

  “I know. Seemed like a good moment.”

  It was.

  She owned me from that moment on. I might have wanted to punish her before, but I wanted to make love to her more, fuck her, own her, brand her as mine forever.

  She could have any damn thing she wanted. I was completely at her mercy and the sexy, sinful, blonde seductress knew it. She wore those clothes on purpose to get a rise out of me. She got it. In more ways than one.

  Back in my room, I placed her on the mattress and we both hurriedly tossed clothing aside. No foreplay. I didn’t need to make sure she was wet. We both knew she was. I entered her swiftly, hissing when her nails scraped down my back. Pumping into her over and over, we both came hard and then round two started. The second time we both sensed the need to take things slower. I glided in and of her sexy body and clasped our hands together. Our fingers intertwined and I slowly made love to the woman that was all the beauty and light I needed in this dark world. After fucking her for months, I knew this wasn’t just a fling, not that I ever did. We were more than that.

  She didn’t say the words. I didn’t either. We both knew what happened.

  Love wasn’t always easy to articulate but when it was present, you felt it.

  Suraya was spending all her time at the Crossroads. I couldn’t be unhappy about that. After all, I was there almost as much if not more. Our apartment hardly saw any use, but I found the rent paid up for a full year and knew who had done it. Fuckin’ Grim. I refused to give the place up and he decided to make a point. I was his and if I wasn’t going to accept cash from him then he was paying my expenses. Irritating and sweet, I couldn’t stay mad at him for long. It was an odd concept that someone wanted to take care of me but if there was anyone that I’d concede to it was Grim.

  Suraya moved out the following week and permanently in with Bodie. I was happy for her but not quite ready to take that plunge myself. After the hard years with my dad and Moby I needed my independence. It was part of who I was. A security blanket I found hard to release.

  I was working the late shift again the next night and I washed down tables and chairs, preparing for the bar to open. A familiar face greeted me as I looked up and saw Suraya. She was frowning. Something seemed a little off, but I wasn’t worried. She could be a little flighty.

  “What’s up, babe? Sticking around to help me after all? You can’t keep ditching your shifts.” I was teasing but she didn’t smile.

  “I suppose she’s been here then,” her lookalike announced. “Not a surprise. Only took me eight months to track her down this time.”

  Lifting a brow, I almost thought she was crazy until I remembered Suraya mentioned a twin. She neve
r said identical twin, but I guess that didn’t matter. “Sasha?”

  “Yep. Glad you figured it out. She doesn’t usually tell people we’re identical. Thinks its hilarious or some shit.” She shook her head. “Nice to meet you. Are you a friend of Suraya’s?”

  “One of her best friends. We used to be roommates.”

  “Well, damn. Any idea where she is? My calls keep getting ignored and her voicemail is full.”

  Typical Suraya. “Living with her biker boyfriend. Not sure when she’ll be around.”

  Sasha’s shoulders slumped. “I was hoping to stay with her,” she admitted. “Know any cheap motels?”

  “Not necessary. Her rent is paid up for the year. You can stay with me,” I offered.

  “Wow! Thanks. I could really use the help until I get on my feet.”

  “Know anything about bartending? Mixing drinks?”

  “A little,” she admitted.

  “If you can smile, pour a beer, and jiggle your tits then you’re hired.”

  She laughed. “Yeah. I can manage all that.”

  Didn’t take long at all for me to like Sasha as much as I adored Suraya. They were two sides of the same coin. Both beautiful and funny but where Suraya had no filter, Sasha was a bit more reserved and mature. They both brightened my life considerably. I counted it a blessing that I had such wonderful friends.

  A month lapsed. There was no sign of trouble from that Razr guy and I grew a little complacent. Life returned to normal. Grim picked me up from the bar after my shift most nights. We’d go at it and fuck like crazy but then I’d go back home to my apartment with Sasha most of the time. He didn’t like it but Grim was learning that I wouldn’t give in on this issue. Things became a little strained, but I knew we would work through it.

  The next night I was working the bar with Sasha again. The manager of the Blacktop didn’t care which of the sisters worked as long as he had a pretty girl to pass out drinks who wasn’t an idiot. For a Wednesday, it was packed. Sasha and I never got a break. Drink orders were nonstop.