Lancaster, PA— here I come.
Chapter Three
Stoney
After five and some hours of being on the road without an ounce of coffee in my system, I’m looking forward to getting to my hotel, checking in and grabbing a hot shower. The ride up here was long, but beautifully peaceful. The greenery was on both sides of me as I rode up and down the hills like it was a rollercoaster.
As I pull in to the little Amish Country Inn I’d googled earlier before leaving this morning, I quickly get checked in requesting the furthest room in the back. I’m not one for letting my guard down and being at the back of the hotel gives me a somewhat sense of peace, knowing if there’s a threat I’ll see it coming.
Opening the door to my room, I instantly regret my decision to stay in a place like this. The entire room is decked out to look like something from one of those Lifetime movies Kenny had me watch with her. I drew the line when she had me sit through one called Amish Grace. I may love my daughter-in-law, but I gotta draw the line somewhere. That pussy shit ain’t my thing.
Shaking my head, I throw my bag on the bed and head to take a quick shower. I’m still a little earlier than I’d planned to be here and figure I’d get to Mally’s Pub before Boss does. It’s one thing to show up on time, it’s another to be earlier and scope out the surroundings. At least that’s what my pop’s drilled into me when I’d first joined the club.
Once I’m ready to head out, I walk over to my 1978 Harley Davidson FXS 1200. She’s a beauty, that’s for sure. I’d lucked out when I found this shovelhead. It had a twin which I’d given to Horse. The two of us restored them both to their former glory together. It was an experience I’ll never forget.
Doesn’t take me long to find the pub considering it’s only three blocks away from the Inn. As I scan the parking lot for a place to park, I spot another bike. “Fuck, looks like she beat me here,” I grumble to myself as I park next to it. For a foreign-made bike I’ll admit it’s pretty slick, but I’ll stick to my Harleys.
Climbing off my bike, I head inside. Time to get this over with so I can drink, relax, and maybe find a piece of ass for the night. That is if I don’t convince Boss into spending some quality time with me.
Scanning the room as I lift my sunglasses on top of my head, I spot the woman herself sitting near the back in a secluded booth. Taking my time to get to Boss, I stop at the bar and order a beer, asking the bartender to start a tab for me.
Finally with beer in hand, I make my way to her booth, sitting across from her. “Well, I shouldn’t be surprised you got here early. How about we get to it? Tell me what the hell you need an alliance with the DRMC for.” I grunt.
Boss doesn’t reply at first. Instead, she picks up the short glass of what I believe to be bourbon and takes a heavy sip before placing it back on the table before her. “You’re just as ignorant as the last time I saw you, spitting out orders like I’m one of your minions.”
“Not one of my minions, Sugar. More like one of the whores at my club who listen when I snap my fingers.” I chuckle.
I sense her body stiffen and see her eyes grow dark. What I’ve said surely pisses her off, but that’s what I wanted, to irritate the living hell outta her. Boss clenches her jaw. “You know, I don’t have to sit here and listen to your bullshit. No matter what you think, Stoney, I’m not one of your whores. I’m the Prez of the Iron Vex MC and I demand the same respect you give Reed from the SRMC, or Zane from the Reapers. I’m not below them, like you seem to think. Or you, for that matter. Fuck, I came here because we’re having issues with a cult and your club has experience. I thought . . .” Boss slides out from her side of the booth and stands up, diverting her gaze for a moment before she returns her eyes to mine. “You know what, forget it. It was pointless for me to come here.”
“Sit the fuck down, Boss. The only reason Reed and Zane have my respect is because they fuckin’ earned it. You haven’t yet. I don’t trust other clubs, even those I see as allies until they prove it. When you can do that then I might see you as an equal, however until then you’re still just a woman to me. Now tell me about this cult,” I say, clenching my fist on the table. Why women have to be so damn emotional about shit is beyond me.
Before I realize what’s happening, Boss has picked up the pint of beer in front of me and is pouring it over my head. “Seemed you needed to be cooled off. Let me remind you, I’m not a bitch you can talk to this way. If I had a cock, you wouldn’t dare treat me the way you always do. It seriously makes me wonder why I even thought to have this meeting with you. You won’t change, will you, Stoney? Fuck, you’re old as dirt.”
“Old as dirt? Think again, Sugar. I may be in my forties, but that doesn’t mean this cock doesn’t work better than those pussies up in New York. Remember, the South is known for being better at everything. Including fucking.” Grinning, I grab a napkin off the table and wipe my face off. The bitch definitely has some balls on her.
Immediately, I can tell she’s even angrier than before, but fuck if I don’t like the way she balls up her fist at her side and clenches that jaw of hers. “If you’re going to keep acting like an ass, I’ll leave. I can find another club to run recon with when it comes to this issue. You aren’t my only option, so don’t get shit twisted. Fuck, maybe I’ll just sideswipe you and go straight to the horse’s mouth. Your son’s club is the one with all the experience too, isn’t it? I don’t fuckin’ need you, Stoney.”
“Be my guest if that’s what you want to do. Won’t bother me one bit. But, it will take you longer than I’m sure you have to get them on board. They’re pretty busy dealing with their own shit right now. Besides, I’m already here. If you want the club’s help, then start talking. Plus, you don’t strike me as the type of woman who enjoys wasting her time.”
Boss stands in front of me for a moment before she plants that perfectly toned ass of hers back in the seat across from me. “I don’t fucking like you, Scott ‘Stoney’ Dane.” Ah, so Sugar did her research. “But I’m not going to waste any more time, especially when there are innocent women’s lives at stake. The Iron Vex dealt with a cult over a year ago. At first, we thought we cut the head off the entire operation, but things have been happening lately where the same MO is being followed. It leads us to believe that they’re still active, and we’ve heard reports of unmarried women being taken, and found dead. Every single time they’re found in the water, with markings on them. They kill them in the water because they believe it will purify them, wiping away all of their filth.”
“So, let me get this straight. This cult you’re up against is taking women, thinkin’ of them as sinners who need to be washed of their sins? What the fuck is with men who feel the need to treat women to horrible deaths like that? Shit, Emerson went through hell because of the satanic cult they’ve been dealing with. Even Ally, who according to my brothers, barely leaves her room at the clubhouse unless it’s to go to Devil’s Ink. Now, there’s somethin’ I gotta ask you, Boss,” I growl, sitting forward. I may be an asshole toward women, but that doesn’t mean I want to see any of them killed by fuckers who think it’s okay. All because something in their twisted little heads deems it right.
“Shoot,” she responds.
“Is this the same cult that’s rumored to have killed your dad?” Boss’ father Rage was arguably the most sinister biker in all of American history. He raped, killed, and kidnapped quicker than you could say ‘boom’. Sometimes I forget she’s his flesh and blood. Probably where her hardassness comes from.
Boss shifts her eyes to the table for a moment. Obviously, me bringing up her dad isn’t easy for her. She nods once, “Yes, my father died at the hands of this cult, saving one of our own. I’ll be as transparent as I can with you, Stoney. He came to me and confessed he knew the leader of the cult, because the leader was his father. You know one of my girls, Gold, that Emerson’s fond of? She slit my grandfather’s throat, and at the time, we thought it was all over . . . but obviously it isn’t. There a
re many branches of this cult and I don’t know who, or how, but I do know why. I’m hoping your club will help us eradicate this vermin and the message they’re so intent on spreading. My thought is they’re targeting the southern States because of the older values most citizens have.”
Rubbing my hand over my face, I contemplate the information Boss has just given me. From what Nerd relayed to me about the missing women, we have a big problem. I’m not dumb enough to believe this shit is a coincidence. “Alright, we’ll help you. Seems your cult might be in my own backyard and if we’re lucky, we can finish this quickly.”
Boss extends her hand, offering it to me to shake, and I do. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Mind if I buy you a drink, Sugar?”
Boss gives me a cautionary glance. “I don’t know if I should let you buy me a drink.”
“What’s the worst that could happen? If it makes you feel better, consider it an apology for earlier.”
Chapter Four
Boss
I sit here nursing my fourth glass of whiskey on the rocks, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. I agreed to one drink, not four. But Stoney kept ordering them before I even knew they were coming and at some point, I stopped caring. Everything has been so stressful as of late and while I should be cutting loose every now and again, I haven’t been.
It feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, and I don’t remember feeling light or free in . . . too long . . . far too long. If I’m really honest with myself, I haven’t been ‘off duty’ in a sense for over a year.
So, maybe tonight I let my vices get the best of me. Doesn’t hurt that a handsome guy is the one buying the drinks for me, even if I hate his attitude.
“You stayin’ for the night too?” Stoney inquires, finishing off the beer bottle he’s had in front of him over the last couple hours.
I wasn’t, but there’s no way I’m fit to drive right now. “Wasn’t planning on it, but I am now thanks to you.” I hold up my almost empty glass and give him a smirk.
“You have a hotel or anythin’?”
I blink a couple times as I realize what he’s insinuating. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight. I’m not ever going to fuck you. I don’t like you, Stoney. I thought we already established that.”
“You don’t have to like me, Sugar. It’s just fucking, and no one says we gotta do it again. You’re here, I’m here, what the fuck is the problem?”
I suck in a deep breath and finish off the rest of my whiskey, wondering if this is why Stoney was getting me so many drinks. There are tons of men who are the type, but I don’t think Stoney is. He doesn’t fit the typical profile, at least not to me anyway.
“You sit right here while I pay the tab,” Stoney orders, getting up out of the booth before I can object. I watch as he pulls some cash out of his wallet and hands it to the bartender, waving her off to keep the change.
I have about ten seconds to come up with a great lie to get out of this, but I think about how long it’s been since I’ve gotten laid . . . since I went to Canada. I haven’t let another man touch me since Cowboy. The memories of his touch are burned in me forever, doing something I swore I’d never do when I agreed to let the remaining Demons of Hell patch into the club.
I made an oath I wouldn’t fuck anyone from the charters I took in under my wings, but that oath didn’t mean shit when I saw him. Every glorious inch of him. Fuck, even now, thousands of miles away with another man as my company and I’m still getting wet at the thought of him.
“So, what do ya say, Sugar? Hell, maybe if you get a taste of my cock, you might like me a bit more.” I shut my eyes again for a split second and glare at the old man, loathing his demeanor. Yet here I am, four drinks in, with a soaking wet pussy after thinking about Cowboy. It wouldn’t hurt to take the edge off. Would it?
“How about you take me back to your motel and I can sober up there before I’m ready to leave in a few hours,” I state, trying to remain as cool as possible. I don’t know if I’m going to fuck him or not, but by the time we get there I’m certain I’ll have made up my mind. I’m not one to typically ride bitch, but I’m drunk.
“We don’t even have to ride. The hotel is not even three blocks away. We can walk if you want,” he suggests and I nod.
The two of us head out of Mally’s Pub, leaving our bikes in the lot after we’ve told the bartender we don’t want to drive while under the influence. Seems like people down here don’t much care if you leave your property in their parking lot. Up in Queens, shit, you’d be lucky if it wasn’t towed.
Stoney leads me to the back of the motel, where he has the last room on the left. He inserts the key and walks straight inside, turning on the lights as I make my way through the doorway. He shuts the door behind me while maintaining an incinerating gaze.
We both know right about now there’s no turning back. There isn’t a part of me that will say no, because I plan on fully using him as a substitute for the man I really want. A man I can’t have, or can never really have. Cowboy and I would probably work if it wasn’t for the fact we’re both Prez of our charters. But I know what going down that road would do to us. It’d rip us apart and force one of us to make a decision we’d regret for the rest of our lives— stepping down as Prez. No way could we make it work being thousands of miles away, in different countries.
“I think you know what this means,” I start off saying, stepping in closer toward him.
He gives me a curt nod, trying to hide that arrogant smirk. “I sure do, Sugar,” he purrs, in a husky tone.
I slide off my cut and place it on the desk next to the crappy little TV that’s stuck in his room. Next comes my black skull tank top and before I know it, I’m left standing in my silver designer bra. It’s beaded with multiple types of gemstones and pearl type of embellishments. I might be the National Charter Prez of the Iron Vex MC, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate being sexy as fuck.
From the look on Stoney’s face, he’s pleased in every way. He takes a step closer to me, but I’ll be quick to show him who’s really in charge here. I wrap my right hand around his neck and shove him back toward the bed. As his body is falling onto the mattress, I hop over his waist, bringing my hands to the button of his dark denim jeans and am quick to free his cock from the confines of his pants.
At first sight, I’m already surprised. Usually, men with Stoney’s demeanor have small pricks. I snicker to myself for a moment, realizing why his son’s name is Horse. Big cocks must run in the family.
I move my black lace thong to the side and go down onto his cock. I figured I was wet enough, but I didn’t take into consideration how large he’d be. Even with a bucket of lube, going down on this cock was going to hurt in some way. The walls of my pussy are screaming as I bob on top of his waist, knowing the only way I’ll feel better is if I keep going, quicker and quicker until I’m coming undone on top of him.
Leaning my head back, I allow my hair to freely fall as I close my eyes and imagine the man underneath me is the one I’ve always wanted to be ridin’. And just like with Cowboy, I’m not going to be done until I’ve soaked this bed and Stoney can barely breathe.
Chapter Five
Stoney
Checking out of the Inn, I dial Tracker’s number after connecting my Bluetooth earpiece as I put on my helmet and straddle my bike, ready to get home.
“I thought you were supposed to fuckin’ call last night after you met with Boss,” Tracker barks upon answering.
“Let’s just say the meet ran over,” I chuckle.
“Shit, Prez, not a good idea to be fuckin’ with this one,” he grumbles.
“Hey, it might not have been the best decision but I don’t give a fuck. It’s done and over with.” I tell him as I hit the throttle and head for home. Ready to be in my own bed at the clubhouse.
“What did Boss have to say?” Tracker asks.
As I speed down the road, I relay the details of th
e cult Boss’ club is dealing with. How they take unmarried women and make an example of them for not saving their virginity for their husbands. “Remember the girls who’d been on the news not too long ago over in Beckham, Richmond, and Concord area? They might be related to this. This cult might be playing around in our own backyard. I want Nerd to gather as much information on those women as he can, and see if he can find any other reports of women who’ve gone missing with the same MO. Tell him to check anywhere from Blacksburg up to Harrisburg and down toward Williamsburg areas.”
“Fuck this club has dealt with enough shit due to cults. Want me to call Twister to see what all he has to say about how they operate? Maybe Hades?”
“Call Hades. He has the most experience with this shit. I’ll be there in about four hours and calling for church,” I tell him before disconnecting the call. He knows me well enough to know what I’ll expect when I get in.
The fact this shit is happening in my own backyard doesn’t sit well with me and I know without a doubt it’ll only get worse before getting better. Seems to be the way of this fucked up world.
Getting to the clubhouse, I’m fuckin’ exhausted. As much as I’d wanted to stop for coffee, I needed to get to the club and fill the rest of my brothers in on what I heard, as well as find out what Nerd found out.
Stretching my legs, I take off my helmet and run my fingers through my hair. It’s gotten longer than I’m used to wearing it, preferring to keep it shorter. As I climb off my bike, I strut into the club with the intention of heading straight for church only to come to a stop at the entrance.
What the fuck is going on here? Two of the clubwhores are in the midst of rolling around on the floor fighting.
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