The Riot (Hell's Disciples MC Book 5)

by Jaci J

  Came back to club to the find the bitch throwing a fit in room four. Locked her in and left her there to calm the fuck down.

  Sitting across from Dan, I lay it all out.

  “Clearly, that little motherfucker is targetin’ her to get to me, to us.” Why else would this shit be happening to her? First, that guy roughed her up. Then, someone breaks into her place. There’s a good chance we’ll never know exactly who it was, or what the fuck they wanted, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was that fuckwit brother of hers. And now we got her brother putting shit in her head.

  I hate Mike for a whole handful of reasons. Most wouldn’t be death worthy, but he’s in a club that’s been fucking with mine for years. That’s reason enough right there.

  “He wants to use her to hurt me.” It’s the only thing that makes any sense to me. He knows I want him dead.

  “Sounds like it,” Mossy agrees.

  “We gotta lock her down.” I have no other choice. Clearly, she can’t be out there in the world, floating around with her head in the goddamn clouds. If something happens to her, I don’t think I’d live through it. I might fucking self-destruct.

  Dan’s eyebrow shoots up and he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. It’s pretty likely I have. “Can’t just lock her down, brother.”

  “The fuck I can’t.” I can do whatever the fuck I want where El’s concerned.

  Dan sighs. “Do whatever the fuck ya want with her, she’s your problem. But we don’t need a pissed off female causin’ a riot at the club, ‘n you know she will.”

  “The fuck you suggest then?” I can’t do shit for the club while I’m busy trying to keep both eyes on Ellison every waking minute of the day.

  “Keep her close, but let her breathe, brother.” He taps the table thoughtfully. “But don’t let her go too far. Her brother’s lookin’ for an excuse to fuck with you, which fucks with us. Remember that shit.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Keep her close? More like keep her on a leash.

  ***

  Shutting the door to room four, I hear the shower running in the bathroom.

  The mirror is fogged up, and a pile of El’s clothes lie on the floor when I push the door open. Inside, all I smell is Ellison—coconut and sugar.

  Grabbing the gold and cream-colored curtain, I jerk it open. Steam barrels out in waves. El doesn’t yelp. Hell, she doesn’t even flinch. She won’t even look at me. She’s still mad.

  I’m about to tell her she’s on restricted lockdown when I get an eyeful and forget what it was I was gonna say. All of that madness just flies out the window.

  “What?” she asks, head under the spray. Her tits are on full display, and I feel my hands start to itch.

  I’m mesmerized.

  “We’ve gotta talk,” I manage to say, my dick already throbbing in my jeans.

  “No.” That mouth only makes the ache in my balls worse. Jesus, I want to fuck her to death. “We don’t.”

  “We’re talkin’, whether you want to or not.”

  She glares at me from out the corner of her eye, but doesn’t have shit to say because she knows what I say goes. Here, I’m the motherfucking boss.

  “Then talk.”

  Fuck, she’s sexy standing in the shower, water running down her body. Big perky tits begging to be sucked, and a fat plump ass needing to be touched. It’s all mine. Every time I look at her, it’s like the first time. I forget everything else going on, focusing solely on her, and she loves it. She revels in the attention I shower down on her crazy ass.

  “You gonna stand there and watch me? You gonna jerk off while you’re at it too?” She smirks, and I lose whatever patience I had with her, which was damn near nothing to begin with. She opens that mouth and blows it all to shit.

  Pulling her out of the shower, I shove her wet body up against the little vanity in the corner. Her hands catch the edge.

  “Keep talkin’ shit.” I tell her, pressing my front against her back, crowding into her personal space.

  “Jesus, Rock. You damn near ripped my fucking arms off.”

  “I prefer God.” She can call me whatever the fuck she wants, but God has a nice ring to it.

  “Asshole.”

  Leaning away from her, I watch beads of water roll down her back, wet hair sticking to her shoulders and back. Running a hand over her back, I land on the soft skin of her ass. Giving it a good squeeze, I dig my fingers into the smooth flesh. Loving the way she squirms, I watch as her ass jiggles in my hand as she tries in vain to get away from me.

  Letting my eyes roam, I feast on everything beautiful in my world. Bent over at the waist, I can see just a hint of that sweet pussy between her thick tanned thighs, and it’s just enough to make me lose my goddamn mind.

  Fully clothed, I debate about taking off all my clothes, but figure fuck it. I just need to get inside of her, and I don’t have the time to fuck around.

  I feel fucking crazy every time I get my hands on her. Even after all this time, I can’t get enough of her. I can never have enough, feel enough, or get deep enough. There is just never enough of her.

  Unzipping my fly, I reach in and pull my cock out. I’m so goddamn hard I could drive a nail with the son of a bitch.

  Running the head of my dick through her wet pussy, I ask her what I always ask her. “You want it?”

  “Yes,” she breathes.

  “How do you want it, baby?” It’s her world.

  “Hard.” It takes everything in me not to lose focus and hurt her.

  “Bitch, you’re gonna kill me,” I choke out.

  Sliding inside, I fucking sigh. There’s no bitch out there like El. Her pussy molds itself tight around me, and it’s so fucking perfect.

  I slide out slowly. Seeing my dick wet from being inside of her makes me lose my fucking mind.

  I slam inside, and her ass bucks against me, driving me in deeper.

  Fuck yes. There it is.

  Grabbing her hip, I hold her ass still. “Fuck, babe. Tight as fuck.” This will be over before I even start if she keeps rubbing her ass back on me like that.

  Grabbing up a handful of wet hair, I wrap my hand up in it and jerk her head back. Back arched perfectly, I move with fast, hard strokes.

  El’s panting, her fingers white as she hangs onto the vanity. “This fucking body, baby. Don’t know why you let an asshole like me fuck you, but I thank fuck every day that you do.” We might be born and bred the same, but that doesn’t make a fuck of a lot of difference. Someone like El shouldn’t fuck with a guy like me, but she does, and that makes me the happiest fucker on the planet.

  “Shut up and fuck me, hard.”

  “Yeah, baby.”

  I fuck her good and hard. I work over this body that belongs to me, like only I know how to.

  Looking up, I catch her in the mirror. Her bottom lip is swollen and red from biting on it. It doesn’t stifle the sound. I don’t know why she thinks it does. “Fuck, El. You always push me into fuckin’ you so hard.” There’s a wild gleam in her eyes, and a wicked twist to her smile. Naked from head to toe, she hasn’t an ounce of shame, not that she ever should. Her body is amazing.

  “Rocky,” she pants, clenching her thighs, squeezing me harder.

  She meets me stroke for stroke, her ass bouncing off of my dick. The sight does bad fucking things to me, and I go harder, faster, and deeper, if that’s even possible. I feel like I’m damn near tearing her apart.

  “Shit,” El moans, biting her lip. “Feels sooo fucking good.”

  “Goddamn good, babe.”

  “Harder.” This girl is gonna fucking kill me. Swear to Christ, my dick feels like it’s about to explode.

  Burying my face in her neck, I breathe her in and fuck her with desperation. I lift her higher by her hips, while she holds herself against the vanity, getting a much better angle to come.

  “Oh fuck. I think…I think…” She explodes around me, her walls tightening around my cock. Fuck is right. “Fuuuuuck, Rocky,” she breathes,
and hearing my name fall from her lips is enough to send me over the edge.

  Everything tightens; my nuts, my legs, and my hand in hair. My legs burn and I swear to God, I might die from coming so goddamn hard.

  Jesus.

  El sighs, content, and leans all her weight against me. “Holy shit,” she whispers. Holy fucking shit.

  It’s always like this with El. It’s heaven here in hell.

  I feel like a goddamn king.

  But I know it won’t last long.

  That’s the thing with El. Her highs are highs, but those lows are fucking deep, dark, and cold. I’ve known her long enough to know that being up this high tends to land me on my ass after a while, but I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess, ‘cause I always come back for more. I’m a stupid motherfucker. I know exactly what I’m fuckin’ getting, and yet here I am, balls deep inside heaven, inches from falling straight back into hell.

  Pulling out of her, I kiss her shoulder and slap her ass. Back down to earth, I tell her, “Lockdown is fuckin’ lifted, but you’re stayin’ close.”

  Eyeing me carefully, she finally nods in agreement. “Okay.”

  Grabbing El a towel, I wrap her up and back away towards the door, knowing if I don’t get the fuck away from her, we’re never leaving this room. “Get dressed, baby. Dan wants to talk to you.”

  Ellison

  Interrogated within an inch of my life, I leave room one, which I’m now referring to as a small slice of hell, escaping as fast as my feet will carry me. I feel like a deflated balloon. Closing the door behind me, I sigh in relief, and a bit of exhaustion. As soon as they extracted whatever pertinent information they were looking for from me, I was abruptly excused.

  Asked about my brother, I told them what I knew, recounting word for word my brother’s surprise visit, and even helped to spitball ideas. They got what they needed and kicked my ass out with, “Out, El.” Dan gave me a small, tight smile. “Church,” was added as the door closed at my back.

  I’ve never been happier to be excused than I am right now.

  I wasn’t yelled at. No one got violent, and I wasn’t forced. What I did do was tell the same stories fifteen different ways. Dan, Mossy, and Big Ben cross-examined me good. When Rock said the Disciples were the law in this town, I fucking believe it.

  Goddamn crazy people.

  Shuffling across the big gravel lot, I slip inside the bar, happy as hell to be a few hundred yards away from the room full of jackasses. A few pleases and a couple smiles would’ve gone a long way with those guys.

  In the common room of the old bar, I find Sammy and Lennon sitting at the bar, eating and chatting.

  “That was fun,” I huff, practically falling onto the stool under my ass in between the two.

  “Was it painful?” Sam smirks around a mouthful of food. Not physically. It felt a little like I was an untrusted infiltrator though. All I know is that I never want to be on the Disciples shit list, that’s for sure.

  “Nah, but I do need a shot, or four.” After that, I’d happily take an entire bottle.

  “Is Rock mad at you?” Lennon asks quietly, but I don’t get the chance to answer her. Sam snorts and mutters, “Right. Like that asshole could ever really be mad at her.”

  “He’s kinda scary, but I like him,” Lennon adds, laughing softly. “Buck’s an asshole on the outside, but on the inside, he’s sweet. I think Rock is the same, but with a different way of showing it.”

  “Nope. Rocky’s an asshole inside and out,” I add. Some would assume years of hard living made him an asshole, but I think it’s in his genes. He was born mean.

  Really, I don’t have room to talk. I might not have been born crazy, but I learned it from a seasoned pro.

  Standing outside the high school on the sidewalk, my backpack slung over my shoulder, I wait with Sam, Lisa, and Brit, for our rides home. Sam and I are waiting on the guys, while Lisa and Brit are waiting on the bus.

  Adjusting the strap to my backpack, I keep my eyes on the road in front of me.

  “Brad’s back there talkin’ shit,” Sam tells me, bumping into my shoulder. “He’s such a douche.”

  A giant douche.

  Brad and his buddies are hanging back on the front steps of the high school. They’re talking about us, me in particular. He’s mad that I shot him down a few weeks back, in front of the entire lunchroom. He’s been busy rebuilding his ego by dragging my name through the mud.

  “The dumb bitch won’t give me the time of day, but she’ll let that old creepy asshole on the bike fuck her,” Brad chuckles, his friends laughing right along with him.

  I’ve taken the high road. Calling me a slut in the halls, scribbling my name on the bathroom walls, spreading rumors, and through it all, I’ve let it roll off of my back, not concerned with his shit. But he brought Rocky into it. Talk about me, fine, but don’t talk about my people.

  Spinning around, Sam catches my elbow. “Don’t waste your time.” Too late.

  Brad notices and smirks. “Yeah, bitch, I’m talkin’ about you and that sick fuck.”

  With one clean shake, Sam’s hand slides off my arm, and I’m across the little patch of grass, up the stairs, and in Brad’s space.

  “Bitch?”

  “Yeah, bitch,” he sneers, his face inches from mine.

  I take a lot of shit from a lot of different people. Today, Brad the dick weasel, is not gonna be one of them.

  Before I know what I’m doing, I sock him square in the mouth. Pain explodes in my hand. I’m pretty sure I broke at least two fingers, but I feel fucking great.

  He stumbles back and his hand flies up to his face. “You fuckin’ cunt!”

  Shaking out my hand, I grin at his stunned face. “You’re just fuckin’ butt hurt because I won’t let you stick your tiny gonorrhea infested dick inside of me.”

  “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill—” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

  Rock is next to me in an instant, Buck and Poncho next to him. I didn’t hear him pull up. I was too engrossed in killing Brad to hear anything around me.

  Rock lays him out flat without so much as a word. Brad’s friends, “Ohhh,” and shout, “Oh shit,” As Brad falls flat on his ass.

  “Little cocksucker,” Rock grumbles, annoyed. He doesn’t hang around to finish the shithead off.

  “Rock,” I call out, shaking my head. I could have handled him. I did handle him. Tipping his head, he looks down at me and smiles.

  “Baby doll, you hit like a fuckin’ girl.”

  “Hey, fuck you.” I am a damn girl.

  Throwing an arm over my shoulder, he shrugs. “That doesn’t mean shit. First lesson of the day is don’t tuck your thumb.” I roll my eyes.

  “Second lesson?” I snap, walking with him back down the steps as he hauls me along with him.

  “We gotta get the fuck outta here. Some teacher is looking at me crazy.”

  “You just punched a student.”

  “So the fuck did you,” he laughs. Yeah, I did. And I’d do it again. “And I’m goddamn proud of you, baby doll.”

  We both have issues, Rock and me, issues a licensed therapist wouldn’t even touch.

  Reaching over the bar top, Lennon snags a bottle of something or other, the label peeled off, and hands it to me. “Drink this. Whatever the hell is it will cure whatever the hell ails you,” she informs me.

  “Or kill me.”

  “Or kill you,” she echoes my words. “But it’ll be a fun death.”

  Throwing back a mouthful, I gag once it reaches my throat. It’s not good. It’s sooo bad. “Holy shit! That’s nasty,” I manage to say around a cough.

  “The good shit usually is.” Sam snatches the bottle from my hand and downs a drink. Her pretty face screws up and her eyes start to water. “Oh no. Blech!”

  Lennon laughs at the two of us until Sam slides the bottle towards her. “Your turn, newbie.”

  This is one of the many reasons I love this place and this crazy club. New or old
, you’re family as soon as you set foot in here. Memories and good times are never in short supply within these walls.

  “Heard Buck telling T that some of the Washington guys are headed down,” Lennon informs us, taking the bottle from Sam.

  Sam frowns and I laugh. “I hate you,” she huffs, so full of shit. She doesn’t hate me. How could she? We’ve been friends since Jr. High.

  “Which guys?”

  “Just heard Tank’s name.”

  This should be fun, the whole damn group together. It’s been a year, since the fiftieth, that all of the guys have been together.

  “Where Tank goes, Rampage, Stitch, Gin, and Tags follow.” I add that last bit for Sam. Her Tags is the worst. They have Rock and I beat by a mile.

  Glaring at me, she grabs the bottle again and announces, “Time to get biker wasted.”

  From power ballads to rap songs, we dance. Celebration is on my phone, plugged into an old sound system. Sam’s got some serious practiced dance moves to this shit, and Lennon is in Lennon’s world, dancing to a song neither of us can hear.

  Lennon’s got a sloppy joint between her lips, and Sam’s using her cell as a makeshift microphone. In my hand is the dingy brown bottle.

  But we dance.

  I never get to just dance for fun. Naked acrobatics is not dancing. Hanging butt ass naked from a pole is not dancing. This, hands in the air and my feet on the ground, is dancing. Just feeling the music.

  We twerk. We spin. We dirty dance. We laugh and we drink, together.

  A few hours pass and the bottle makes the rounds between us. We’re drunk, and we’re having a damn good time.

  “What is that fuckin’ noise?” Buck yells as he walks in through the back door. Rock walks in behind him, making a face only a mother could love. It’s a mix of disgust and pain.

  “Turn the shit down, El.” He looks directly at me, an eyebrow lifted in suspicion.

  “Oh yeah, blame me.” It was so me.

  Rock walks up to me and jerks the bottle from my hands, holding it up for Buck to see. “Fuck. It’s gonna be a long damn night.”

  Long and fun.

  ***

  Gone off of eight-year-old moonshine, I’m sloppy drunk, and having a damn good night to make up for my shit day.