Crank: The Devil's Highwaymen Nomads #1, page 8
The room was one of the spare rooms for nomads or people from out of town that needed somewhere to crash for the night, and as such it looked just like that too. Leftover items were piled on every surface. Items from men that had long since passed through Las Vegas on business for the club. Cups and plates, glasses and rubbish. It looked like the room hadn’t been cleaned in a long-ass time. Smelled like it too.
But I focused on the unmade bed in the middle of the musky room, where the tall brunette was perched on the end, her legs spread as she trailed her hands up and down her silky thighs. She smiled again and crooked a finger at me to come over and I happily obliged, my dick now straining at my jeans and my dark thoughts disappearing with every step I took. The only thing to make that moment even more perfect would have been a shot of whiskey.
I reached her, and she stared up at me through her thick, dark lashes, her hazel eyes gleaming with temptation. She flicked a tongue across her painted lips and gave me a sultry smile. “Nice to finally see you in the daylight.”
I frowned, quickly recovering myself when I realized that she must have been the woman from last night that I’d fucked on the side of the garage. I looked her over cockily. “Good to see you again too.”
And it was.
I had had no idea what she’d really looked like the night before. She had just been a hole for me to fill because I hadn’t been able to fuck Hope because I’d somehow grown a God-damned conscience. But it seemed even in the dark I managed to find a hot as hell woman to sink myself into. I remembered the ugly shit she’d been spouting about Hope too, but I pushed that to the back of my mind, my dick painfully hard and not wanting to be ignored.
She giggled and pushed her already short skirt up her smooth, bronzed legs. “You ready for a repeat performance, sweetheart? Because I have been thinking about you all day.”
She didn’t wait for my answer. Instead she unbuckled my jeans and pulled me out in one swift expert movement. And then she was wrapping her pink painted lips around my hard cock and sucking me deep into her throat and making my knees weak and my throat groan.
I gripped the back of her head and thrust harder into her mouth, enjoy the scrape of teeth she gave along my shaft as I pulled back out, and the way her tongue glided over and around my dick on the way back in. It was pleasure and pain, and she was sin and seduction, and it was all wrapped up in one perfect brunette package.
She was beautiful, and of course she knew it. Though why she was picking me, an eighteen-year-old prospect, to give her attention to instead of a patched-in biker I had no idea. Though right then I didn’t much care either. All I cared about was sinking balls-deep back into her tight pussy again.
She was only a little older than I was, though by the hard lines around her eyes she’d done a helluva lot of living in those short years. Not that it mattered to me. Age was nothing but a number anyway. It was what was in the head and the heart that mattered the most, not a number.
I pulled back out of her mouth and she sucked me with such force that I hissed, the pain almost taking me over the edge. She squeezed my balls as I left her mouth, her lips glistening with my pre-cum as she swirled the tip of her tongue across the end of my dick.
I pushed her back down on the bed and lifted up her legs to hook them over my shoulders. I dragged her panties up her legs, pulling them off the ends of her feet and stuffing them into my back pocket. And then I raised her hips so that I had a good angle into her beautiful body.
“Do it,” she whispered, her brown eyes shining with mischief. “Fuck me, Dillon.”
I grabbed her hips and guided my way into her entrance, squeezing my eyes closed as pleasure thrummed through my body and her pussy wrapped around my cock. I slid out and back in a couple of times, gently at first, filling every inch of her with my cock as she stretched to accommodate my size. When she was good and ready she squeezed her pussy, tightening herself around me, and I grunted in response.
And then all bets were off as I got a firm grip of either side of her waist and slammed into her over and over, nonstop thrusting as her perfect tits jiggled around and she cried out, biting down on the pillow next to her so she didn’t make too much noise as she exploded around me in a series of small squeaks and groans.
I continued pumping in and out of her faster and faster, harder and harder, unyielding in my need to fuck her until she couldn’t walk straight. My balls were slamming against her asshole and I had no doubt in my mind that I’d have that too one day soon. As my cock repeatedly drove home, hitting exactly where she needed me, she exploded around me for a second time seconds later, her nails clawing at my wrists and leaving red marks on my skin.
I slammed hard into her, lifting her off the bed and grinding my cock into her tight heat as I came suddenly and with such force that I felt sick and dizzy, the taste of whiskey at the back of my throat. I leaned down, my cock still inside of her, panting as I slipped her breasts out of their confines and sucked on one of her rosebud nipples, pleasure still thrumming through my body as I caught my breath.
Finally I stood back up, my cock slipping out of her. I pushed my now limp dick back into my jeans as my cum dripped from her swollen pussy. I bit my lip and stared down at her; she was beautiful but she had trouble practically glowing from her. I should have listened to the warning signs.
She sat up and smiled—a cocky, knowing smile, like she knew she had the Holy fucking Grail of pussies and could control me with it if she so pleased. She stood up, and no doubt my cum was starting to drip down her inner thighs.
“You forgotten all about the little girl from last night now, baby?” she asked. She trailed a nail down my chest and I flinched and pulled away from her, my angry glare burning into her.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“Don’t be like that. She couldn’t give you what you want anyway, I did you both a favor.”
“What did you do?” I asked with a hard scowl. I took a step away from her.
“What do you care?”
“Who said I care?”
She laughed. “The pathetic look on your face says you care, baby. She’s just some sad little virgin skank. Sad because she don’t know how to treat a man, and even sadder because she finally found someone she wanted to give up her V card too and she couldn’t even seal the deal.” She laughed again, her narrowed gaze on mine. Jealousy poured from her in waves as she stood there sneering at me, her beautiful face twisted in bitterness.
I felt a little sick at her words, thinking of fucking this crazy bitch up against the side of the garage where Hope could hear everything. What the hell had I been thinking? That’s right, I hadn’t been.
My cheeks flushed hot in anger and shame and I turned away, my thoughts already working on how I could find that girl again, and make it right. I didn’t owe her anything, not really, and yet for the first time in my life I wanted to make shit right.
This wasn’t something else I could run from.
Hope wasn’t something I could run from.
I hadn’t fucked up just once, but twice, and I knew I had to make it right.
But if I was being truthful, it was more than the need to correct my fuckup that made me want to find Hope. Nothing happened by chance in this life. I didn’t believe in accidents or mistakes, I believed in fate. And I had known from the first moment I had seen Hope that our lives were meant to be connected in some way.
Hands came up behind me, wrapping around my middle. I was still sore from my tattoo and wrapped in saran wrap to keep the tattoo clean, but she didn’t seem to care. She reached down to my dick and squeezing just hard enough to make me hiss. “She can’t treat you as good as me, don’t worry about her. I’m sure she’s stopped crying now.”
I shrugged away from her touch and turned back to glare at her. “You spoke to her?”
A smile rose on her face and she flicked her tongue across her lips. “Oh yeah, right after you left me there, knees trembling, pussy throbbing and dripping with your cum. I told Hope exactly what she’d just missed out on. Cried herself to sleep like the pathetic clubslut wannabe she was.”
“She wasn’t a fucking clubslut.”
“She wanted to be! What do you think she was doing here anyway? A girl like her don’t belong in this life anyway. Bitch thought she was too good for this life. Mom and dad had big plans for her to become a vet and save the cutesy little animals while bearing some rich man’s babies. Sex with the lights off, missionary-position kind of shit, not like what you need. Dirty, rough, painful.” She grinned again.
“You’re all kinds of fucked up, you know that?”
She rolled her eyes again. “So I’ve been told. Doesn’t stop you from wanting me though, right? And it won’t be the last time either, baby.”
I shook my head at her and started to walk away. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
She laughed. “I’ll see you again, Dillon, me and my pussy. And Hope? Your perfect little Hope’s long gone.”
I headed to the bar to swallow a shot of whiskey to dampen down my anger and guilt. The liquid burned down my throat, hitting my empty stomach and burning my insides as it moved around. Couldn’t even remember the last time I had eaten, and that wasn’t a good sign. Living off whiskey and women was one thing, but Bull was depending on me and I didn’t want to let him down. The fight was coming up, and though drinking had always been a part of my training program, so had food—at least when my mom had been clear-headed enough to remember to buy some for us.
I nodded at Maisie, one of the women serving behind the club’s makeshift bar, and she poured me another shot. I downed it and put my head in my hands, my dark thoughts on Hope, the crazy bitch I had just fucked, again, and why I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants for five minutes.
I pondered over how I might find Hope, and then I wondered why I should even bother. After what I had done there was no way she would want anything to do with me. Couldn’t really blame her either. I had felt a connection to her the night before, and I had a feeling she had felt it too. Perhaps that was why I had done it—ruined any chance before she got too close. Or perhaps I was just an asshole and couldn’t control the dick in my pants.
Either way, it seemed like a lot of trouble to go to to find a woman that wouldn’t want anything to do with me but give me shit for being a pig. But it was what I deserved. This was one thing I refused to run from.
I shook my head and headed over to Bull’s office to speak to him. His curtains were open now, and Wolf and Hammer were walking out of the clubhouse. Hammer stopped to talk to the crazy bitch I had just fucked and her friend, and I wondered if I should warn him away from her. Bitch clearly had a screw loose. Hammer slapped her ass and pulled her close to his body and I decided against getting involved. Pussy was pussy, after all.
~ 12 ~
Bull was sitting behind his desk, his gaze looking over some paperwork that was scattered out in front of him. A hard scowl covered his face as he sat back and cracked his knuckles, finally looking up at me.
“What can I do for you, kid?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. He nodded toward the chair opposite him and I moved to sit down in it. “Everything okay?”
I knew what he was really asking me: did the cold-blooded murder of Click that morning bother me. The answer was no.
“Yeah, of course.”
“You know he deserved it, right?”
I nodded. “You don’t steal from family.”
“No. You don’t hurt your family. This was never about the money, but the pain he’s caused us.”
“I hear you,” I replied.
“Good. Because that’s what Click did: he hurt his brothers, his family. He stole from them—me. But worse, he got his brothers hooked on that shit. We sell it, we don’t use it. That shit will kill you quicker than this life ever could. I’m working on getting us out of this shit, fuckin’ hate drugs and the shit stain they leave behind, but it ain’t all down to me. It’s down to Hardy. You feel me?”
“I do. I uhh, that’s part of the reason I’m here, actually.” I looked down, my hands twisted in my lap. The burn from the whiskey was only a distant memory now, but the feel of the tattoo on my arm every time I moved it was enough to let me open up some. It was healing up real nice, and I hoped the new ones healed up half as good.
“Stone, he uhh, he doing okay?” I ventured, finally looking up.
Bull stood up and walked to the tall cabinet in the corner of the small office with a sigh. He pulled open the top drawer and slid out a bottle of Jack before answering. “That requires a two-part answer. No, he’s not okay. He hasn’t been okay for a long time—way before the drugs, if I’m honest. Anyway, regardless of that, if he wants to stay with the Highwaymen, he better get better.” Bull came back to the desk, glasses and whiskey in hand.
I nodded. “I might be able to help.”
Bull quirked an eyebrow at me and sat down. He poured us both a drink and pushed a glass toward me. “Go on.”
“I uhh, I have experience with drug addicts,” I ventured. “My mom, she was sick for a long time. I saw her through a lot of attempts at getting clean.”
That was as much as I had been prepared to give out regarding my past. I couldn’t give away any more without him getting suspicious.
Bull nodded and sipped the JD as he leaned back in his chair again, his hard stare on me, no doubt taking in every twitch and telltale sign. Good thing I was used to hiding everything so well. I grabbed the JD and swallowed it down in one go.
“My little brother,” he finally said. He took another sip like he wanted to wash away the words from his mouth. “My little brother gave in to addiction. It didn’t end well.”
“He dead?” I asked bluntly, hoping he wouldn’t ask me the same of my mom.
“Nah, but I haven’t seen him in at least ten years, so who really knows anymore, right?” He stared out the office window, looking in at the busy clubhouse. “It’s how I got into this life. I was breaking and entering, street fighting, and eventually ready to do armed robbery to get the money together for him and his addictions, when I was taken in here by the previous president.” He looked back at me, and I knew he saw directly into my soul, at the evil and the pain that was buried there, ready to suck me under at a moment’s notice. “I tried to get my brother involved here, but it was too late for him. That one-way spiral I was on is what I saw in you, kid. It wasn’t no accident that I bumped you at that bar.”
I frowned at him, his words making sense but his motive not.
“So you what? Tried to save me?” I scoffed, feeling shocked and annoyed with him.
He let out a laugh. “I guess you could say that, but it wasn’t how I saw it. I just thought I could put that anger of yours to better use. The saving part is all on you, kid, because no one can be saved that doesn’t want to be.”
I looked away from him, wishing I hadn’t gone in there. I didn’t want to hear any of that. Jesus, I just wanted to ask if I could help Stone out with anything, maybe fucking let him know that he had people believing in him or some shit.
“You ain’t ready to save yourself, not yet. And I ain’t here to preach to you about it. That shit is on you, not me. But just like you want to help Stone, the club is here for you too. We do what needs to be done for one another. No questions asked.”
I looked back at him quickly, letting his words sink in. His hard stare was unnerving me, like he was trying to tell me something. Like maybe he fucking knew what I had done. But I couldn’t be sure, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it. Either way, the mess I had left behind when I had left home was my mess, and my mess alone. I wouldn’t take anyone down with me.
“But Stone, huh? You think you can help him? Be my guest. Right now, I’m guessing he could use all the help he can get. Brother was tanked on crank last night when I dragged his sorry ass to rehab, but I got a call before you came in here that he left two hours after I checked him in. He’ll be coming back here, even though he knows it’s the last place he should be.” Bull swallowed the last of his whiskey and put his glass down. “If you see him—when you see him—you come to me.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked cautiously.
“Well I’m not going to fucking kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking, Dillon. He needs help, and I’m going to give it to him in the form of the Devil’s Highwaymen.” Bull stood up and walked toward the door. “If he won’t stay in rehab we’ll bring rehab to him. It’s messy, but we’ve done it before.” He opened the door and I stood up, guessing that our talk was over. I was glad too, yet it felt like there was something unspoken between us—an understanding that I actually didn’t yet recognize.
But I trusted Bull. That much I knew.
“Kid?” he called, and I turned back to look at him. “Get one of the girls to cook you something to eat. You might be a good fighter, but you’re only good to me if you’re alive, and right now it’s like looking at a ghost.”
I dragged a hand across my beard. “All right.” I turned to leave before turning back. “One last thing.”
Bull cocked an eyebrow at me. “Go on, ain’t got all day.”
“There was a girl here last night.”
“There were many.” He grinned.
I chuckled. “Nah, this girl, I need to speak to her. It’s important.” Fuck it, I decided. If she wanted to scream in my face and hate on me, I deserved that. The least I could do was let her.
