by Kiki Leach
"No, Mr. V Fuckin' P," he spat, "you're right there at her goddamn head." He pointed. "You get your motherfuckin' ass down there and take a fuckin' look."
River shook his head. He wasn't scared to look a possibly dead bitch in the face. He'd tell anyone who asked that he'd done so more times than he'd like to count over the last ten plus years since patching into the mother charter of the Shadow Riders MC and becoming its VP not long after. But not once in all those years had some possibly dead bitch actually found her way to the front of his goddamn club. And especially not one with a 'Free Pussy for Any and all Willing Motherfuckers in the Area' note attached to the bottom of her dress that seemed to be meant just for him.
Except this girl wasn't exactly his type in terms of who he was willing to take it from.
He snatched the joint from between his lips and dropped down to a squat.
"Shit." He shoved the lit tip against his knee, then tossed it aside and reached his hand down to wipe the hair back from her face to get a good look at who she was. As if he'd even know, as if he would've fucking cared if he did. "Christ."
Her hair was caked in dried blood, vomit and urine that seemed to be poured in the gallons. She smelled like shit dumped into a pile of more shit dumped into a sewage filled with nothing BUT shit, and wasn't looking too much better in the face once he finally got the chance to fully see it. Her eyelids were sealed shut with tears, her lips were bloody, cracked, blistered like she'd been baking in the sun for days on end before showing up there. Her nose looked broken from having been slammed into the ground a few times and her cheeks were swollen from having been smacked by either a fat hand or the fist of a goddamn man. It even looked like she was missing some teeth from what he could tell, but he wasn't too sure how many. Either way, he knew somebody had really fucked this bitch up good.
"Holy. Fuckin'. Shit," Blue replied, taking a better look at her for himself.
River bobbed his head and peered at her. "Yeah."
Even beneath all of that shit, there was something about this girl that stuck out to him. Something about how young she looked, how vulnerable she might have been; it reminded him of someone he knew all too well, that innocence now gone, lost forever. It stirred up a deep emotion within that he wasn't used to feeling for much of anyone anymore aside from his little girl.
Empathy.
But it was a feeling he realized after getting a few good seconds to think about that he didn't like having one fucking bit, especially for someone like this.
He hopped up to his feet and turned to Blue. "She's still breathin'," he said. "But barely. Whoever the fuck did her in wasn't fuckin' around."
"How the fuck you think she got here?" he asked. "If they tried doin' her in, they clearly fuckin' failed."
River shrugged. "Her fuckin' palms are covered in gravel. Maybe she crawled from wherever the fuck she was originally dumped and landed here."
"But her goddamn knees are only covered in blood and piss, not gravel too. Somebody fuckin' dumped her here on purpose. Maybe it was those pricks a few of the other brothers fucked with the other night at that bar over some Mamacita lookin' bitch that wasn't feelin' any of 'em. Motherfuckers probably did this shit as some sorta retaliation over some pussy they never even had a chance with in the first fuckin' place."
River wrapped his fingers around his temples and dropped his head in agitation. "Jesus. Fuckin'. Christ." He loved his brothers more than his own life, put the club and what it stood for above every fucking thing in it. But they could also be a bunch of goddamn, motherfucking idiots whenever too much pussy was around or involved.
"So what the fuck do we do with her?" asked Blue.
"What the fuck choice do we have, motherfucker?" River shot back as spit flew out from every side of his mouth. "We've gotta bring her ass inside now. We leave her out here to be found by somebody else, we're fucked. We try and take her anywhere else but the fuckin' hospital and cops'll be swarmin' around us again quicker than flies on shit thinkin' we had somethin' to do with whatever the fuck happened to her. They still think we burned down that dope house in Daytona last week with all those goddamn kids inside, resultin' in some of the brothers goin' nomad and other charters keepin' their goddamn distance. And she's got no fuckin' ID, not even a goddamn purse, so we can't call up some motherfucker to come and get her the fuck outta here." He turned back to the girl and grimaced. "Shit. This bloodied, fucked up bitch is the last goddamn thing the club needs right now."
"Brother, you ain’t never told a single fuckin' lie in your entire goddamn life. This shit is fucked any way you look at it, and so are we."
Blue looked to the sky and clutched the gold cross hanging from the chain around his neck. A serious and devoted Catholic from the time he was twelve years old, he wondered for a brief moment after seeing this girl if he should've chosen a different path for himself; maybe one similar to his older brother, who had denounced the club years earlier after their father was killed during an ambush while making a delivery in another town, and became a priest.
At the same damn time, he knew he wouldn't change the two most important things he had gained over the last six years since becoming an official member: a true family in his brothers, and an endless buffet of pussy lying in wait at every corner of the club, ready to be taken by a big, burly, fresh biker like him at any given second.
There was a time once when River would've jumped to say the exact same shit, or at least something similar. A time when his brothers, the club and fresh, young pussy were his entire fucking life, even before the family he was now raising along with the help of his mother. But after ten long years of the same bullshit, with things only getting worse and absolutely no changes being made to the club, thanks to so many goddamn disagreements between him and his longtime president, he couldn't even begin to remember how the fuck he managed to get caught up in the first fucking place. Days like this one, with a half dead bitch laying at his bare ass feet just outside of the place he called a home away from his own, he couldn't even remember why the fuck he was still there.
"Come on," he said. "Get her legs. I'll get her goddamn shoulders and head."
They each bent down to grab onto various parts of her body and carried her inside. She wasn't anywhere close to being heavy, probably weighing no more than 120 pounds soaking wet with most of the fat being in her full tits and round, shapely ass.
They carried her over to the pool table near the bar and laid her flat on top, shoving the balls all around and knocking them into the pockets to keep from smacking her in the head. As soon as her arms landed against the wood, she started to squirm and moan and reached for her stomach as if she were in pain.
"Shit, she's wakin' up," said Blue.
Her mouth started to move, she murmured something, but neither one of them could understand what the hell was being said.
Blue moved in closer and stared at her face again. He twisted his head left to right, closed one eye and then the other until his vision had become clear again. He looked over at River and smirked. "I know this kinda bitch ain't what you're used to havin' for yourself, but even with all this shit on her face, she's exactly the kind I like warmin' up the other side of my bed." He took a seat beside her and drew a finger down the back of her arm. She flinched.
River leaned over the table and glanced up at him, scowling. "Motherfucker, this bitch looks like somebody just put her through the goddamn shredder. She's covered in blood and piss, probably even shit, and all you've got on the mind right now is your cock meetin' her pussy?"
"It'd be one helluva greetin' insteada this shit, if I do say so my fuckin' self. And if you weren't such a hateful motherfucker toward her kind, you'd be thinkin' the same fuckin' thing." He and River glared at each other until Blue broke eye contact and turned back to the girl. "How the fuck old do you think she is?"
"I've got no fuckin' clue. But with her tits sittin' up like that, I'd say she's probably seventeen at best."
"You know seventeen year
old tits, brother?"
"Yeah, when I was suckin' on 'em at seven-fuckin'-teen, asshole."
Blue snickered and reached down for the edge of her dress, slightly lifting it to peek underneath. His eyes went dark and narrowed when he realized she wasn't wearing a stitch of underwear and saw dried blood stained between her legs. "Shit. Her pussy says much of the same." He dropped the hem of her dress and sat back. "What the fuck are we gonna tell Prez about this shit?"
River turned his attention back to the girl. Red hot rage poured through his veins, boiling over and burning his skin the longer he stared. Bitches like this should've known their place, their side of the gate, their side of town. It was clear this one didn't and got seriously fucked and dumped on his goddamn doorstep because of it. That pissed him off more than her being fucked up, the fact that her being such a stupid fucking bitch was jeopardizing every goddamn thing he had ever worked so hard to help build.
"Hey." Blue hit him in the arm. "You hear what the fuck I just asked? What the fuck are we gonna tell Prez about this shit? We can't fuckin' leave her here out in the goddamn open like that free pussy sign said. Especially with the other brothers on the way back here for church and a few of 'em still pissed about not gettin' laid last night. Tiny was complainin' like a fuckin' bitch about how he couldn't come in LuAnn's mouth like she was promisin' he would. He said she was on those raggedy ass knees for at least a goddamn hour and the only thing he got from it was a bunch of lipstick stains around his balls." He laughed. “Guess that’s why he prefers stickin’ it in the mouths of those young bitches like this one here now.” He nodded. “She fucked it up for him from jump.”
River lifted his shoulders and grimaced. "Tiny’s a sick fucker,” he said. “Always has been when it comes to these young bitches. And I don't fuckin' know what the hell we're tellin' Prez about this shit.” He threw his hand toward the table and groaned. “But I do know the sooner we get this goddamn bitch the fuck outta here, the fuckin' better we're all gonna be before the motherfuckin’ day is done. Let's go."
Chapter One
It had been a long fucking time since Jacob 'River' Hawkins woke up to the thrill of a woman planted between his legs with his cock stuffed deep inside her mouth; too fucking long as far as he was concerned. Though much of the reason he hadn't even so much as paid for a quick fix was due to his lack of appetite for the latest round of available club whores, many of whom often trailed in from nowhere in particular, in search of any member capable of putting any regular motherfucker on the street in his proper place. Nine times out of ten, that 'place' was six feet beneath the ground. Sometimes deeper if they were serious assholes about going under in the first goddamn place.
To would-be club whores like the one currently deep throating his twelve and a half inch cock while cupping and playing with her own tits, men like River were kings amongst men. They had power, money, hordes of women flinging their dignity out of the window just to be near them and get even a taste of what they had been so unwilling to give anyone else at times; and more importantly, they had the respect of most people within and around the community and beyond. Though truth be told, and River knew it better than most, the latter part of that equation had been fading fast over the last few years due to bad business decisions that seemed to affect more people outside of the club than in. Not to mention the terrible deals their president made with the up and coming motherfuckers throughout Crescent Beach who were more eager to take down the club in the hopes of building up their own dynasty of drugs, booze and sex, and less eager about helping them expand their own.
River outstretched a muscular, tattoo covered arm over his head, and threw one of his overly large hands down on the back of the girl's head as she brought her hands up to stroke his balls.
"Shit, baby," he growled as the heat built up inside him. "Fuckin, shit, babe." He gently bucked his hips and shoved her down a little further until she started gagging around him, but he refused to release her until a hot burst of his cum sprayed across the most delicate part of the back of her throat. "FUCK!" He shuddered against her mouth as pure ecstasy poured through his veins and forced more cum from his cock.
The minute his hand dropped back down to the bed, she lifted herself up and swallowed every drop of what he had just given her. She practically beamed in seeing the satisfied look on his hard, chiseled face, that hint of a smile that seemed so rare on big, brawny men like him, and wiped her mouth of cum and spit.
"Shit, bitch, where the fuck did you learn to suck cock like a goddamn pro?" he asked her.
She brought her hands down to the muscles in his thighs and trailed her fingers up and down his beautifully tanned skin. "I watched movies when I was younger," she said with a laugh. “And I've got an older sister who taught me a lot of things about cock and how to handle one--”
"Older sister?" His mind went crazy with the idea of how she’d be in comparison to the bitch currently occupying his time.
The girl nodded. “Before she turned eighteen and could get into the adult stores, she'd often use cucumbers to help. But I’ve gotta say, you’re the biggest man I’ve ever had inside any part of my body before. Cucumbers don’t do men like you justice in any way.”
"Darlin’, I’m better than most motherfucker’s you’ll ever fuckin’ come across. And that’s not just me bein’ cocky as shit ‘cause I’ve got one big enough to prove it; it’s just a straight up motherfuckin’ fact. But that bein’ said...” River brought his head forward and arched a brow. “Did I ever ask just how old the fuck you were last night?"
"No. You didn't seem too concerned about my age at the time, but I just turned nineteen this month."
“Nineteen?” He slammed his head back down to the bed and groaned. "Oh, fuck."
"It's okay. Age is nothing but a number for me. It's the same for you too, right?"
"Jesus Christ. Fuck no, babe, it’s not. I think you've got the wrong motherfucker."
She frowned. "Why do you say that?" she asked in a slight panic.
"Do you even know just how old the fuck I am, bitch? You're damn near the same age as my own goddamn kid. Move." He shoved her back with the heel of his foot and swung his legs around to the side of the bed. He planted his feet firmly on the floor, curled his toes into the carpet and rested his head in his hands. "Fuckin' Christ."
Being with a girl who still had 'teen' attached to her goddamn age wasn't normally River's thing; she at least had to be able to get into a local bar or club without a fucking bribe or flashing her tits, which was something he was starting to assume this girl knew all too well how to do. He should've paid more attention last night, he should've been more aware. But after downing two bottles of tequila and one bottle of rum, followed up by six shots of cognac and seven beers, and this girl rubbing her tight, round ass against his cum filled cock, her age, much like the rest of her aside from that perfectly shaven pink pussy, had quickly become something of a blur.
"How the fuck did you manage to get in here last night?" he asked her.
"A friend brought me. The same one that went off with one of yours someplace before we came back here."
"I gotta lotta friends here, darlin'. I'm gonna need you to be a hell of a lot more specific than that."
"The one with the red, white and blue tattoos all over his arms and neck like some kind of patriot or American flag. He was wearing a red wrap around his head and had a short black goatee covering his entire mouth. You could hardly see his lips when he spoke. Oh! And he had that Sergeant-At-Arms patch on his cut.”
The description sounded a hell of a lot like Blue. River momentarily shut his eyes and remembered a tiny red-head with tits the size of watermelons and an ass the size of Texas, dragging his best friend off to some other part of the club before finally disappearing into a spare room.
"Christ." He dropped his hands to his lap and sat back.
The girl bent forward and threw her arms around his neck. She tangled her fingers in the soft hairs on his chest and brushed
the tip of her nose across the smooth skin of his back, just inches above his colorful hawk tattoo (one of the actual bird), which rested in the center of it. She giggled in watching its wings move up and down as he jerked his shoulders in an attempt to shove her off.
"You know, I don't care how old you are," she told him. "You still fuck like you could be twenty-five years old."
"Shit, bitch, how many twenty-five year olds have you been fuckin' lately?" He snickered. "‘Cause I ain’t been twenty fuckin' five in about thirteen goddamn years. If the grey shit all over my head, face and chest ain’t tell you that--"
"I like it." She slid her fingers into his thick head of hair, the color of salt and pepper that seemed to brighten as she tilted his head closer to the light; where it used to rest across his shoulders, it was now loosely curled and resting just above his neck. The girl smiled. "It makes you look sophisticated or something," she said. "Like an old man kind of sexy."
"A sophisticated old man kinda sexy? Shit. You really don’t know a goddamn thing, do ya?" He shoved her off without a second thought and crossed the room to his pack of cigarettes on the dresser. He pulled one from the pack, then got a good look at himself in the mirror.
He still looked damn good and somewhere deep within himself, he knew it despite whatever bullshit he was spewing or had planned to spew toward this girl at some point. And even though it partially riled him up, he knew she was right, his age was just that, nothing but a motherfucking number. Even if it mattered, he could still claim to be in his thirties, because he was. His very late thirties. Sure his hair wasn't as dark as it once was, but that didn't mean shit when he still had rock hard abs, a good and healthy ass, thick muscles in his arms and legs, a wrinkle-free natural tan that intimidated most motherfuckers he knew, and most importantly, that strong jawline; one that often took more than a few hundred fists from weaker motherfuckers to break in half. His close cut shaven beard was starting to show more shades of grey than what was on his goddamn head, but just like everything else, it seemed to be a part of life, one he knew he needed to learn to embrace at some point before death came looking to drag him straight to hell. Still, with the size of his cock and how he worked it, he was certain he could fuck a bitch into a multitude of orgasms even after pulling out, which seemed to matter a hell of a lot more to him than a few strands of grey.
