Challenged (Vipers Creed MC#1)

by Ryan Michele

  Her taste lingered in my mouth, not sating the craving I had for her. If anything, it made the want almost painful.

  When the door to the clubhouse slammed shut, I stepped out into the main room.

  “Spook, don’t tell me you’re losing your touch,” Stiff teased.

  “Fuck off.” I grabbed a chair, turning it around before sitting my ass on it. Then I rested my arms on the top and lit a smoke, inhaling deep.

  “New mouse?” Bosco asked jokingly. He knew the answer. He’d been around forever, all the way back to when my old man ran the show. He hadn’t cut his hair or beard since then, either; I swear it.

  I shook my head. “Nope. She’s no mouse.”

  Stiff chuckled. “Could tell just by looking at her.”

  “So, that’s the Trixie Lamasters, huh?” Bosco asked, the knowing look blaring through his eyes. Everyone who was around back when my father was president knew of Trixie. Not only because of me, but from club business, as well.

  “Yeah, that’s her.”

  Bosco whistled low. “Damn, brother. What’s she doing coming around here?”

  “Do we have a mouse by the name of Nanette?” I asked.

  House mouses were the women in the clubhouse who were free reign in the fucking department. They came and went as the wind blew. Only three mouses had stayed for the past full year, and countless others had come and gone. And I’d fucked them all. They were willing, and it was their duty. They kept us happy, and we provided them protection, at least for the most part. If they had some messed up shit that we didn’t want blowing back on the club, we kicked their asses out. I didn’t need that kind of heat just for pussy.

  “Not that I know, but I don’t really know their names,” Stiff said, pulling up his beer bottle and taking a swig from it. “You need me to find out?”

  “Yeah. If she’s here, I wanna talk to her. Trixie said the bitch owes her money. Need to find out what the hell’s going on.” I turned to the bar. “Lee!” I yelled, and the scrawny-ass, pimple-faced kid came from behind the door. He needed a dermatologist immediately. He was new, prospecting for the club. I needed to figure out his loyalty first, then I’d tell him about his fucking face. “Beer,” I called out.

  He nodded and brought it over to the table then disappeared. At least he’s learning, I thought as I inhaled off my cigarette.

  “So, Trix thinks this Nanette is here?” Boner, my vice president, asked.

  We called him Ben through school up until he got his road name. He knew more about Trixie than anyone else here.

  “She says she has someone who saw her here, which means Trixie has eyes. I don’t like that shit.” It pissed me off my guys hadn’t seen it. I didn’t like anyone in my business, even a sexy as hell woman. No fucking way. That shit had to stop immediately.

  Boner ran his fingers through his hair. I swore he was going to start losing it if he kept that shit up. “Want me to have Dawg look through the tapes?” Dawg was in charge of keeping eyes and ears open at all times. Everything around Vipers was videotaped.

  “Yeah. He finds something, you tell him to come to me with that shit, so I can rip his ass for it.” I never liked being blindsided with shit, and if he didn’t catch some asshole lurking around, he’d hear it from me.

  “On it.” Boner looked over at Stiff. “You on Nanette?”

  “If she’s here, I’ll be over her.”

  We all chuckled as Boner and Stiff stood.

  “You sure she doesn’t wanna be a mouse?” Stiff asked hopefully, though the slight smirk told me he was fucking with me.

  “Yes. And no one fucking touches her, or their ass is mine.” I stood and threw back the last of my beer, slamming the bottle on the table then stomping out my smoke. If another man touched her, I’d go ape-shit.

  “Already staking claim?”

  “Fuck, wouldn’t you?” No man with eyes would say any fucking differently.

  Stiff smiled. “Fuck, if you didn’t, I was on that shit.”

  My face grew serious. “You spread that shit wide. She’s coming here tomorrow. Any motherfucker touches her, he deals with me.”

  “You got it, boss man.”

  Bosco cut in, “You sure you wanna do that?”

  Was I sure I wanted to fuck her again? Fuck, yeah. Second chances rarely came, and when they did, if you didn’t grab them, you were a fucking fool. I was no fool, but I couldn’t reduce it to just that.

  “Yeah,” I answered, the pull I’d always felt for Trixie hit me like she had a fucking rope around me. Being in her presence merely tightened that shit, bringing it all back to the surface.

  “You know what that’s gonna mean, right?”

  I rolled that over in my head. I knew I’d open up old shit, shit she didn’t know about. I weighed it against my need for her. Fuck, even thinking of being with Trixie came with a slew of consequences I could bring on my club. But I couldn’t let her leave again without finding out if she had what I needed. My gut told me she did, and it hadn’t let me down yet.

  “Let’s see where this shit goes first.”

  Bosco nodded and headed out.

  “GET RIP IN here!” I called out from my office door in the garage. I had two offices, one for the business and the other for the club. Lately, I’d been spending equal time in each.

  The demand for custom bikes and cars had grown by leaps and bounds. Mostly, it was from weekend warriors, but what the fuck did I care when they were paying top dollar for that shit? The bikes and cars made up a bulk of our income. It was also one hundred percent of my aggravation.

  Nevertheless, Vipers Creed was my family, my soul. I worked my ass off to clean up the mess my asshole of a father left the club in. He lost track of the main goal of the club—family. Instead, he had gone with greed and ended up getting a bullet to the head by my hand, something I had zero remorse for.

  I knew Vipers was more than what he had thought. We weren’t perfect, and our teeth weren’t sparkling white by any means, but we were a family.

  “Yeah.” Rip came into the office, wiping his hand on a rag so greasy he smeared more than he wiped off.

  I waved the paper in my hand. “Parts order on the Morrison bike. It’s still not filled out.”

  He held up his finger and left the room. I tossed the paper onto the desk and waited.

  Two seconds later, Rip came in with a paper of his own, handing it to me. Thank fuck.

  “Good. Don’t let there be a next time.”

  He lifted his chin in recognition as I looked over the form. Unlike my father, I was very hands on when it came to keeping track of everything. I didn’t place the order—I had a guy for that—but it damn sure went through me first. I wanted to know exactly what money moved through the business and the club. This ensured everything stayed in line. I would not lose control like my old man had.

  A knock came to the door, then a sing-song voice said, “Spook.”

  I put the paper down. “Hey, Mom.”

  She walked in, her head held high with all the confidence in the world. She always dressed in all black with some type of huge belt around her waist. She’d been the top ol’ lady for quite some time here, putting up with my father’s shit. When I took him out, she lost her place, but she was still family.

  I stood from my chair and walked around the desk. She came right into my arms and wrapped them around me. “My boy, how are you?”

  I pulled away and stepped back behind the desk. “I’m good. You?”

  She waved her hand in front of her. “Oh, fine,” she lied. I could always tell when she didn’t make eye contact with me.

  “Don’t lie to me, Mom.”

  She let out a huff of air. “I need an advance.”

  Boom, and there it was. Money. She always needed fucking money. She got a small cut from the club because I didn’t want to leave her high and dry after taking out my father. We gave her enough to live on if she wouldn’t keep blowing it on stupid shit.

  “You’re gonna
need to get a job if you keep this shit up.” My bluntness came with everyone, my mother being no different. Besides, I was getting fucking sick of this game.

  She put her hand on her hip, and I raised my brow. “I took care of you—”

  I held up my hand to shush her, and she complied.

  “I don’t wanna hear that shit. I’m thirty-three years old. Been running shit for fifteen of them. So don’t bullshit me.” I fell into my chair and raked my fingers through my hair. “How much you need?”

  “Only four thousand.”

  My mouth dropped. Never had she come to me with that big of a number. A few hundred, okay. She even asked for a thousand once. But four k? Fuck no.

  “What in the fuck did you spend that kind of cake on?”

  She twisted her hands, showing me how nervous she was. Good. She should be nervous. This fucking shit was coming to an end. “I sat in on Fox’s table.”

  Now I ripped both my hands through my hair and looked up at the ceiling. There would be no help there, but if I looked at my mother, I would jump over the desk and strangle her ass.

  “I lost.”

  I glared. “No fucking shit. You lost, and now he wants his money. What are you gonna do if I don’t give it to you?”

  I knew exactly what Fox would have her do. He ran tables in the back of his bar and made serious bank off them. He also ran girls, and that’s exactly how he’d have my mother pay—on her fucking back.

  “You have to,” she said, her eyes wide like she realized for the first time I was contemplating letting her pay off her own debt.

  “I don’t have to do shit. You put yourself there, not me.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t.” I remained stern, and she tensed. “When do you have to have the money?”

  “Next Friday.”

  That gave me six days.

  “Leave. I’ll call you and let you know what’s decided.”

  She started to say something, but I gave her my don’t-fuck-with-me stare, and she walked out, her shoulders slouched slightly.

  I slammed my hands onto the desk. “Fuck,” I growled out.

  She’d been getting worse and worse. I’d been letting her ride. But this … I couldn’t let this slide. Worse off, I’d have to bring it to the table, and we’d all have to vote on it. I had my own cash to pay for it, but no matter how it got paid, it put the entire club on Fox’s radar.

  I felt like a selfish bastard for not coming right out and helping my mom for all of about five seconds. I’d bailed her out so many times over the years. She needed an ol’ man to keep her ass in line. Until then, I needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do with her.

  EIGHT-THIRTY AND no Trixie. I smiled to myself as I lifted the beer bottle to my lips. The cool liquid flowed down my throat.

  “What the fuck you smiling about?” Boner asked from beside me with a house mouse draped over his lap.

  I cocked my head toward her. “Worry about her, not me.”

  “On your knees,” Boner ordered the woman, who fell to her knees in the grass like a pro. “Undo my pants and suck me until I come.” The mouse followed the instructions to a T. “Now, what the fuck are you smiling about?” He threaded his hand through her hair as he stuck his dick down her throat, the crowd of people a distant memory for him.

  “Fucker,” I stated, and he moaned. “Fuck. Come see me when you’re fucking done.” I moved away from the scene, adjusting my hard dick. One might think that seeing his brother get a good face fuck wouldn’t be a turn on, but they would be wrong. That fucking shit was hot.

  “Hey, Spook,” a woman purred from next to me as I walked toward the fire pit, lighting a smoke.

  I turned to see Stacy who’d been here for a few months. We’d had our share of go-arounds. She was pussy—not pussy to write home about, but pussy, nonetheless.

  “Hey.”

  She trailed her hand down my sleeveless arm. “Need me to help you out?” she cooed.

  While I was rock hard from witnessing Boner, having Stacy take care of me didn’t have the same appeal. All that kept flashing through my head were thoughts of Trixie: her tits, her ass, and that fucking long-ass hair. My dick grew harder, and Stacy smiled, thinking she had caused it.

  “I can see you do.” She moved her hand to the button of my pants, and I stepped away.

  “Did I say you could fucking touch me?” I growled, causing her eyes to widen.

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  “You nothing. Go find someone else before I kick your ass out.”

  She scurried away, fear in her eyes.

  I was being a dick, but she touched without asking, which was a rule of being a house mouse. They couldn’t touch unless a brother invited them to. No exceptions. I should kick her ass out right now, but I had other shit on my mind.

  Stiff sided up to me. “Damn, Spook, you alright?”

  I glared at him, and he held his hands up in surrender.

  “I’ll be back.” I tossed the beer bottle in the garbage bin and smashed the cigarette on the ground with my boot as I moved toward my bike.

  Trixie was bringing her ass here on the back of my fucking ride … right after I spanked it.

  I WASN’T STUPID. Cade’s eyes yesterday told me that he meant business, that he would come and get me. He also knew where I worked. It was why I took the night off and let Jett run the show. I didn’t do it often, but I knew Sirens was in perfectly good hands.

  I wasn’t a social person, keeping mostly to myself. Over the years, people had proved to be unreliable, so I only trusted myself fully. Jett, though, had been with me for three years and was my closest friend.

  Cade didn’t have a clue where I lived. I wasn’t listed anywhere, always afraid one of the patrons would come to my home. I only had a few people who knew where I lived, and I liked it that way. You just never knew who you could trust anymore.

  As soon as I left his office, I’d decided I was never going back. Ever. I would get Nanette some other way.

  I was done with Cade’s domineering attitude. I mean, who in the hell did he think he was? No way in hell was I digging up that shit. I’m gonna be over you, under you, and in you. I scoffed, the sound echoing in my living room. Hm, I’m so sure. One heartbreak from him in my lifetime had been more than enough.

  I called in Ike, my bouncer, bodyguard, and all around go-to guy at the club. He’d increased the watch on Nanette’s house, which she surprisingly hadn’t lost yet. He’d already checked her bank and phone records before I’d gone to Cade. So far he’d gotten nowhere, but he was still keeping tabs. It was only a matter of time.

  My cell rang from the table, snapping me out of my thoughts. Happy for the reprieve, I grabbed it.

  Taylor Calling.

  In a husky, sexy voice, I answered, “Hey there.”

  “Hey, yourself.” Taylor’s deep voice reverberated through the line. “You working?”

  I smiled, moving over to the couch and sitting down. Taylor was a booty call—no other way to describe it. He was decent in bed and didn’t want entanglements, same as me. We’d been hooking up every so often over the past five or six months. It wasn’t regular by any means, and it was only for the sake of having a warm body to get off on. I’d allowed him in my home a few times, but he’d only stayed for an hour or two max and then took off.

  “No, night off.”

  “Really?” he asked in surprise, which was justifiable since I always worked. It was usually later in the night when we hooked up or during the day, yet it wasn’t unusual for him to call and set it up.

  “Really.”

  “I’ll be over in twenty,” he said, not giving me a chance to say anything else before he hung up.

  I flew off the couch, running into the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and checked my makeup. After running the brush through my hair then adding a touch of lip-gloss, I checked my body, making sure I smelled good. I ran into my bedroom, changing into a pair of white booty shorts that showed
off the cheeks of my ass. Then I tossed off my bra and put a camisole on, hiking up the girls to their full potential.

  After seeing Cade yesterday and feeling his lips on mine, I’d been running fiery hot. My vibrator couldn’t fix it. I should know; I tried … twice. I got off, but I wasn’t sated in the slightest. I could still feel Cade’s body pressed against mine, his heat surrounding me. I hoped Taylor could help me banish the Cade memories.

  I spritzed on perfume then took another look in the mirror. Curves were showing, and my waist looked good.

  You sure you wouldn’t rather Cade be the one coming over?

  I frowned in the mirror, shaking my head. Where in the hell did that thought come from?

  No Cade. Taylor. He’ll make it good for you.

  I finished by putting lotion on my legs, smoothing it up my thighs.

  When the doorbell rang, my head snapped up, tilting toward the clock. Damn, those twenty minutes went fast.

  I rushed to the door, throwing it open to find Taylor standing there with a wide smile across his impeccable face. He was a bit of a pretty boy, not much edge to him. He was clean cut with blond hair and deep, brown eyes and absolutely no facial hair, or hair anywhere on his body except below his waist for that matter. He wore dark jeans and a button-up, short-sleeved shirt in green. It gave his brown eyes a greenish tint. He held a jacket in his hand.

  “Hey there, beautiful.” He strode in the door, not wasting time. He tossed the jacket, wrapped his arm around my waist, and picked me up as I slammed the door shut.

  I wrapped my legs around his body as his lips came to mine. Only, the spike of excitement I normally got from his kiss was diminished greatly. It didn’t burn me like the kiss from last night. That kiss had taken my breath away. Taylor’s kiss was too sweet, too … nice.

  Stop it, I chastised myself, kissing him back. I will not think of Cade, I fought with myself, only Taylor.

  He sat on the couch so I could straddle his thighs, keeping his hard dick beneath my core. I moved my hips back and forth, gaining groans from him. My pussy decided it was time to wake up, enjoying the friction.