Ride Hard, page 7
“I’ve been right here. You’ve not left my side,” I remind him. He’s been hovering over me like a helicopter and I’ve loved every second of it.
“No, I’ve missed this.” His arm snakes around my waist, his hand dropping down to my pelvis.
“Oh.” I smile when his fingers tease at my clit.
“Yeah. Oh. Need you, baby doll.” I hope he gives me a big O.
“You’ve got me, Roane. Always and forever.”
“I want us to make it official.” His lips meet the back of my neck.
“We just moved in together.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
He has a point. “Not a damn thing.” I turn into him, seeking his mouth out. “Let’s do it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
My man comes alive, pushing me up against the tiled wall of the shower. Roane comes at me hard and fast, tongue plunging deep in my mouth, greedy and sexy. My man makes love to my mouth with his kiss. A kiss that promises me one thing—forever.
**
Three months later
“What’d you want to tell me, baby doll?” Roane stares up at me as I straddle him on the couch.
“That you were right.”
“Hmm...” he grunts. “I’m always right.”
“Are you now?” I roll my hips.
Roane reaches around me to squeeze my ass. “Fuckin’ love your ass, Jules.”
I lick my lips and move in closer to whisper in his ear. “There’s one thing in particular you were right about.” He shifts his hips and thrusts his growing erection upward, rubbing it through his sweatpants up against my crotch. “Stop distracting me. I’m trying to be serious.”
“You’re the one being all tempting in these tight ass pants, woman. Now tell me what I was right about.”
“So bossy and demanding.” I lick the shell of his ear and he chuckles.
“You call me distracting. You love to torture me.”
“Hmm. Where was I? Oh yeah. I wanted to tell you that what you said about your swimmers being strong...you were right.” I lean back so I can get a good look at his face when he realizes what I just revealed to him. He stares at me for a hot minute and blinks twice. Then it hits him and his lips fan into a gorgeous smile. One I know that is only for me.
“You saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Yeah, honey. I am. We’re pregnant.” I’ve barely gotten the words out before his mouth is on mine.
Roane pulls back and I feel breathless. Every time I kiss him its magical, just like the first time. After things died down and we settled into life as a couple, Roane and I tied the knot on Valentine’s day. The anniversary of our first kiss. The day he told me something I had forgotten about until he reminded me in his vows. “I swore I’d be your first and last kiss, Jules. I was the first man to ever kiss you when you were fifteen and I’ll be the last when you’re old and gray. I promise I’m going to cherish and love you for all of my days.” Then he kissed me, and the preacher yelled at him for jumping ahead of the ceremony.
“God, you make me happy, woman.”
“I can make you even happier if you take me to bed.”
“Let’s test that theory.” He shifts to carry me to bed when a knock sounds at the front door then my sister let’s herself in. “Thought I told you to start locking that door,” he grumbles.
“Oops.” I slide down his front.
“Am I interrupting?” Pam shoots Roane a cheeky grin knowing damn well and good she is.
“Go home, Pam,” he barks, and I smack at his chest.
“Don’t be rude. I want to share this moment with my sister.”
“Uh, no offense, Jules. I know I joke around and shit, but I am not joining you two or watching.”
“Eww fuck no,” Roane growls.
“I’m pregnant,” I tell her, and she squeals coming at both of us for a hug as she starts to cry.
“I’m going to be an Auntie?”
“Yeah, but get gone so I can get back to what I was doing before you interrupted.” Roane loves my sister, honest, but she drives him bat shit crazy because she pops up all the time at random hours. He might as well get used to it. She is only going to get worse once the baby comes.
“Fine. I know when I’m not wanted. I only came by to see if Roane wanted in on the bet the guys got going.”
“And what bet would that be?” he questions her.
“Oh...only that Wylla Mae is eighteen and graduating high school soon...we have a pool going to see how long it takes East to break.”
“Ya’ll, that is so damn mean. You ain’t even right.”
Pam shrugs and Roane says, “What dates you got left and what’s the buy in?”
I shake my head at both of them, but I love them more than anything. “Fine. I am going to call it now and say one month after she’s out of school they become a thing officially.”
Pam smirks at me and Roane chuckles.
“See. You are one of us.” My sister giggles and hugs my neck.
Roane places his bet and shoves her out the door daring her to come back until at least three days have passed.
“Why three days?”
“Because that’s how long I plan on keeping you naked in bed.”
“Oh, I like that. I like it a lot.” I start sauntering toward the bedroom, shedding my clothes along the way so my man can make good on his promise and oh does he ever.
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed this fun holiday story that centered on Roane and Jules. I wanted this story to serve as an introduction to the characters of my chapter of the Royal Bastards MC, Charleston West Virginia. Lady & the Biker is coming your way soon. It is a full-length novel. I cannot wait to share East and Wylla Mae’s journey with you. Until then I have included a sneak peek of their book, I hope you enjoy it. If you loved reading about Roane and Jules, I hope you consider leaving a review.
Glenna
Lady & The Biker
Royal Bastards MC
Glenna Maynard
Lady & The Biker © 2019 Glenna Maynard
This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, business, establishments, locals, or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, business, organizations, or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Cover design Simply Defined Art - Jay Aheer
ISBN: 9798481770147
Dedication
To undeniable love.
Lady & The Biker
She’s an angel thrust into the chaos of the devil’s playground.
I’m a Royal Bastard who doesn’t deserve her. She’s too young for me. Too pure and too good. I’m going to ruin her and break her heart. I know it and she knows it and yet neither of us can stay away. I watched Wylla Mae transform from a girl into a lady. She’s forbidden and tempting with her soft curves and big doe eyes. Everything I crave and all that I deny myself until a moment of weakness forces me to break.
ROYAL BASTARDS CODE
PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.
RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.
HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.
OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’ Lady. PERIOD.
CHURCH is MANDATORY.
LOYALTY: Takes precedence overall, including well-being.
HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.
TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.
TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.
NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.
Chapter 1
Rolling up behind Murder on my black and chrome Softail motorcycle outside of the rundown two-story home a bad sensation passes over me. The older man kills his dark cherry Road King and motions for me to do the same. Fuck. He said he had to make a quick stop. Walking up on the natural wood porch of the two-story with white outdated siding, this doesn’t seem fast to me. I scrub a hand over my face and make note of the worn boards nailed over the front window and the bag of garbage that the cats or a dog has scattered across the front lawn. Soda cans, water bottles, candy wrappers, and old toilet paper are strung amongst the overgrown grass.
Prez knocks twice. The patter of footsteps sounds and the dingy white door creaks open. He pushes it wider and enters. I follow behind him, and he squats to speak to a little girl who is sitting cross legged on the floor in front of a Tv watching cartoons. She’s a tiny thing with hair so light it’s almost white. “What’d I tell you about opening the door without asking who it is first?”
The kid sniffles and wipes her slender pale hand across her red tipped button nose. “Sorry,” her angelic voice rasps in a low tone.
“Where’s your mom? I picked up your prescription.” Murder pats her on the head. He turns to me and hands me the white and blue bag from the pharmacy. “Give this to the kid,” he gruffly orders me and stomps up the stairs. His boots echo on the floor overhead.
“You sick or something?” Her warm brown eyes widen as she takes me in. I don’t get a reply. Ripping the bag open I pull out a bottle of pink liquid. “What’s your name, Lil’ Lady?”
“Wylla Mae,” she answers me with a sniffle then coughs.
I measure out the dosage, following the direction printed on the label and hand the plastic cup to her. “Drink it all down.” I glance at the bottle again and it says the contents need refrigerated. The kid follows me to the kitchen. When I open the fridge door up and see that it’s bare inside, I go tense. I grind my teeth, biting back a smart assed remark about the lack of food. Not even a package of bologna is present. I slam the door shut. No way for a kid to be living. Shit like this burns me up. I may not be much but I’m not heartless. I look around the kitchen. The dishes are stacked by the sink and covered in wiggling maggots. My stomach coils at the sight. I throw a hand up over my mouth. The putrid smell of the rotten food overflowing from the garbage can and onto the floor hits my nose. Flies buzz around the forgotten room. Murder storms back down the stairs, boots thundering on the dark hardwood flooring with a hot pink backpack in tow. Clothes and a purple stuffed bear are hanging out as he attempts to zip it shut.
“Put a jacket on her and take her to the clubhouse. I’ll be there when I can.”
Christ on a cracker. I scrub a hand through my dark hair, and he holds the backpack out in my direction. “I’m no damn babysitter. I’ve got plans. It’s Friday night.”
“Don’t give a fuck what you have planned. Make sure she gets her meds and get her something to eat. I’m counting on you.” He thrusts the backpack at my chest, and I grab hold of it to keep it from hitting the dirty floor.
“Who is this kid?”
“I’ll explain later. Just fucking do what you’re told, East.”
“Fine.” I accept the backpack and the job, taking the medicine back out of the fridge and shove it in the side pocket.
Murder stares at Wylla Mae. His voice goes all soft losing its harsh grit. “Listen, Cupcake. My brother here is gonna take you for a ride on his motorcycle. His name is East. You be a good girl and I’ll bring you some ice cream later once I get your mom to see the doctor. Okay?” He pats her head and she nods as a tear trickles down her cheek.
Shit. Double shit. I know nothing good will come of this. I don’t know who this kid is, but I can’t go against my Prez. He better not have me in some mess with a custody issue or some shit. Last thing I need is to be called in for kidnapping this little girl.
Murder stomps back up the stairs. Halfway up he turns back to me. “Get her out of here now,” he growls.
I shoot him a chin lift.
“All right, Lil’ Lady. You got a jacket somewhere?”
She goes to the closet by the front door and tugs out a winter coat. It’s black and has a gold princess crown embroidered with her name across the back. She gets her coat on and shoves her feet into black boots trimmed with fur. Maybe her mom fell on hard times because her clothes are in good shape and name brand. I shouldn’t judge so harshly but the empty fridge and dirty dishes pisses me off.
“You have anything else you need?”
“No,” she whispers and coughs.
“Zip that jacket up.”
She struggles to get the ends of the zipper to meet, and I end up placing the backpack on the couch and dropping to my knees to see to it for her. The tip of her nose candy apple red and crusted with dried snot. She looks like Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer. I want to wipe her face off, but I can hear Murder upstairs and know he’ll have my ass if I don’t get her out of here. “There. Let’s go.” I hand her the backpack and she loops her fingers around the straps dragging it behind her.
Outside, I shove the straps of the backpack over her shoulders. Lifting her small frame up by the waist, I plop her down on the seat of my bike. “Listen, I’ll drive slow. You don’t need to be scared. My helmet is too big for you, so you’ll ride without one. Keep your feet on these pegs.” I tap her leg and point. She nods. “When I get on, put your arms around my waist, head on my back. Don’t lean or move. Don’t panic. I’ll keep you safe.” Gathering her long pale locks in my hand, I tuck them down inside her jacket, so the wispy strands doesn’t smack her in the face during the ride.
I get on and she curls her fingers in the belt loops of my jeans holding on tight.
I let out a breath and hope I won’t regret this.
The sound of my Harley roars into the night as the little girl with soft brown eyes clutches tight against my form.
The moment I roll up to the Devil’s Playground, our clubhouse, I know bringing the kid here is a bad idea. I take one look at the two-story brick building that once housed offices before it was converted to the clubhouse and know this is the last place a kid should be. A party is in full swing or about to be. I shut off my bike and once she lets go of my pants swing my leg over. I ruffle my fingers through her pale hair. “See nothing to it. You’re a natural.” I grip her waist and pluck her off the seat, planting her black boots on the ground. “Keep your head down and stick to my side. Don’t look at what’s happening inside just keep walking until I tell you it’s okay.”
I trudge toward the entrance, the classic rock music growing louder. Fuck. This is no place for an angel. No place at all. Fucking Murder. What the hell was he thinking tasking me with brat duty? This is some shit one of his muffler bunnies should be handling. What the hell am I supposed to do with her? I know shit all about taking care of a kid.
Here we fucking go. I push the heavy metal door open, the classic rock of Lynyrd Skynyrd filtering through and blasting me right in the damn face along with a cloud of smoke. I scan the room and the festivities haven’t started. My brothers are sitting around drinking and playing pool. A few hangarounds are on hand but nothing provocative is happening yet. I check my watch. The night is still young.
“Hey handsome,” Mariah purrs, licking her lips and rubbing up on my right side, her fake tits spilling out of her neon green tube top. I’m in no mood for her and the bullshit she brings with her. Woman is nothing but pure drama. Catty and clingy as hell. Two things I don’t want or need.
I push her off. “Not now.”
“Shit.” She notices my shadow. “Didn’t know you had a kid, East.”
“I don’t.”
“Wait—you aren’t into some sick shit, are you?”
My brow furrows and I ball my fist. “Fuck you for even saying some shit like that, you fuckin’ dumb cunt.” I shove past the bitch as she flips her stringy bleach blonde hair with dark roots and go to the bar. I stick Wylla Mae on a stool. “Get her a Sprite,” I yell over the noise to Slater.
He gives me a chin lift, grabs a can from the cooler, and slides it down the bar. I pop the tab. “Don’t drink nothing or eat a damn thing unless I give it to you directly. No one here would hurt you but shit happens, and I’d rather be safe than sorry. Understood?”
Her doe eyes gaze up at me. She doesn’t say anything but accepts the pop and chugs.
“You hungry?”
“Uh huh.”
“Come on. Let’s see what we can find in the kitchen.” She slides down the stool and curls into my side where I keep her pressed until we get there. It’s only a matter of time before shit starts to get wild around here. The kitchen door swings open and Pam stands on the other side.
“What are you up to?” She raises her arms over her head, securing her dark curly hair in a ponytail, revealing the skull and roses tatted on her left hip.
“This is Wylla Mae, my charge for the evening. Whatchu’ got good, fast, and hot?”
“I’d tell you but it’s not appropriate for small ears.” Her laughter rings out.
I shake my head. I walked straight into that one.
“Stick this in the fridge will ya.” I dig the medicine out and toss the bottle her way.
“Aw, sweetie, are you sick?”
Wylla Mae sniffles and wipes at her nose reminding me that I need to wash that face. While Pam gets the medicine in the fridge and questions the kid about what she wants to eat I grab some paper towels and wet them.
