by Adair Rymer
Riding For Her
A MC Romance Standalone Novel
Table of Contents
Title Page
Adair Rymer
Special Thanks
Prologue
Chapter 1 | Maya
Chapter 2 | Hendrix
Chapter 3 | Maya
Chapter 4 | Hendrix
Chapter 5 | Maya
Chapter 6 | Hendrix
Chapter 7 | Maya
Chapter 8 | Hendrix
Chapter 9 | Maya
Chapter 10 | Hendrix
Chapter 11 | Maya
Chapter 12 | Hendrix
END
Adair Rymer
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Copyright © 2014 Adair Rymer
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. They are not to be construed in any way. Resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Special Thanks
To Amanda & Julie.
To my editors- Karen McAndrew and Ed.
To the sharp eyes of Danni Werner and Sue.
Prologue
The best thing about being the baddest mother fuckers on the block is knowing that no one has the balls to say otherwise. We could walk around like King Shit because people did what we told them to do. Yeah, we were still relatively new as a club, but we took this town over like a tornado.
A club like ours was still small fish in the scheme of things. Without any nearby competition and nobody to fuck with us, we seemed all that much bigger in this tiny-ass pond.
I wasn't a greedy man, but standing on a bed lined with cash and two girls on my nuts, I knew what I liked. I was a king and this was my throne.
“Hendrix, baby. Let me play too. Please.” I didn't know the raven-haired beauty's name. I'd paid her to strip dance for me across the room. She was just the background noise; a sexy TV show to steal glances at occasionally while the redhead and I set up different positions. I ignored her until I was ready to change the channel.
A stack of twenties tumbled from the bed as I flipped the redhead onto her back. She giggled and flailed, knocking over the bottom half of the most expensive tequila I'd ever seen. I didn't care as I had a case of the shit next to the bed and we were both already pretty fucked up.
This was the good life.
It was short. I lived it to the fullest. Tonight, that meant having the craziest sex I could imagine in my room of our clubhouse. Tonight I was a rockstar. A fucking rich-ass rockstar!
“I don't mind, baby. She can play with us,” said the redhead.
“I don't care what you mind.” I slowly pulled the fabric on her blouse apart, popping the buttons off, one by one. At each snap, I watched her chest sharply rise and her dull face light up with excitement.
I snatched out another bottle of tequila, popped the top and drizzled the golden liquid over her torso. I let it glisten in my room's harsh neon-sign lights while I tugged down her tight denim jeans. She giggled and wiggled for me, kicking them off herself toward the end. The girl was ready and hungry. So hungry.
She'd wanted this for a while but I hadn't noticed her until tonight. She was all over me at the party. I think her name was Nancy or Nicole... or Tess. She looked like a Tess.
“Hehehe... Tickles,” the redhead moaned as I tongued the tequila out of her belly button.
“Let me get the rest of that for you.” My tongue did laps over her hip bones and across her ribs.
“More, baby, more,” she cooed, trailing off in a haze. With the alcohol cleaned up, I dragged my lower teeth and bottom lip over the silky skin of her hard stomach. The slight darkened lines and light pressure marks on her skin were faintly picked up in the hard lights. This girl liked it rough and I liked it every way I could get it.
I realized I was still wearing way too much clothing. I kicked my thick boots across the room and stumbled over to the slow dancing brunette. Hanging my arms out to the side, I told her, “Get this shit off me.”
She then worked my pants down and, with firm care, reached in and guided my cock and balls out with her other hand. The thin cotton blend of my boxer briefs, the only barrier between us, tightened around my bulge in her grip. Between her massaging fingers, my cock had eagerly begun hardening.
She dragged her long nails between the waistband and my coarse pubic hair before fisting my long, fleshy shaft. The brunette was all...clenched, glowing teeth, parted glossy lips, pulse racing, heavy breathing...fuck me! She ate me up with lusty, yearning eyes. My cock was hard enough for her to swing on.
I'd seen the brunette a few times here and there, but never gave her any play. She was expensive and I never paid for sex.
The booze always slowed the process. I never minded. I wasn't a selfish man in sex. It just gave me more time to explore and play. I got off on orgasms; mine and hers all the same. I just loved pleasure. That itch wouldn't stop until it was scratched. Maybe I was selfish, but I was never in a rush and I've never heard any complaints. Only begging.
I peeled the brunette’s fingers off my throbbing cock. My eyes were fixated on the redhead lying on my bed. Her dark form was drowned in a sea of green paper, my cut from the weapons deal. The glowing islands of her painted lips, white cotton bra and panties were all I could make out of her features under the neon light. The latter was broken by a banded stack of cash that she slowly ground into her pussy.
A sight to behold.
I smiled, riding the hot shiver that rattled my bones. I shrugged my vest to the floor and let the brunette pull my shirt off. “Stay,” I told her. She sat in the chair, pouting, looking dejected. This is not how she thought this party would go. I wasn't like any of her other boys or girls. I'd make her work for it. Make her cry and scream for it.
I grabbed the brunette's hand as her legs parted and her fingertips disappeared behind the crushed elastic-band of her satin panties. That wasn't what I was paying her for. I shook my head, making a “tsk tsk” sound. I watched her expression shift from longing into despair. Leaning in, I lightly bit her ear and said, “Touch that gorgeous pussy again and you'll be getting your rocks off at home.”
I walked back over to my bed, throwing my vest back on. It was all I wore. Well, that and a smile.
“Come here,” I told the redhead. She propped herself up and, over thousands of dollars, empty or spilling glass bottles of booze, a handful of assorted pills and a few ounces of weed, the lovely girl crawled to me. My smutty little angel.
When she was close enough, I worked my fingers through her hair then down the back of her neck. I squeezed and pulled her closer, spearing her gaping mouth with my thick cock. I was gentle at first, slowly gliding the entirety of my length past the rows of teeth and over her pressed tongue. I filled all of her, then pushed further. My mushroom tip slid down the back of her throat until my balls rested on her chin.
I let her pull her head away only to drive in again. This time harder. Her limits tested and gentleness swallowed, she consumed me. Fast. Hot. Wet. Whole. The redhead moaned and murmured through a full mouth. My cock, rocking back and forth, robbed her of everything but the basest of primal instincts.
She jerked me out urgently, a long trail of saliva arcing off my tip. The redhead gasped for air but only for a moment. She reached for it again like a starving baby bird. I pushed her onto her back and ripped off those glowing white panties instead.
I needed to feel her sweet, sticky wetness on my skin. Needed to drink her all up. Her knees spread, which parted that perfect pussy slightly. She either knew I needed it or maybe she just hoped I did. Either way, she was soaked en
ough for a fifty dollar bill to be plastered to her inner thigh.
It couldn't have been more perfect. I thought, at the end of it all, I'd take their clothes but let them leave with any bills that were stuck to their bodies. It was horrible, I know, but they loved the game too. It was why they kept coming back. I practically had a goddamn waiting list!
Two of my fingers slid easily past those soft, wet lips and plunged into the pulsating pussy of the redhead. I curled them into a beckoning motion while she tried to suck my soul out through the head of my cock. I think it was working, too. This girl could put a vacuum to shame.
“Take off your clothes and stand on the other side of the bed,” I ordered the brunette.
She eagerly stripped off the last few bits of cloth that covered her fine curved body. “Whatever yo—”
“I didn't tell you to talk,” I interrupted her, pulling my fingers from the redhead's hot, little pussy and licking them. Gods, I loved the way they tasted, inside and out. “You're just here to watch. What part of that don't you understand?”
She was stunned into silence. Insulted but turned on, she complied. I could get high off her frustration. That was the trick. It was how I always got the best tail.
You never let them fuck you the first time. I never paid for sex. I paid her to watch.
The brunette wanted me now. Every time she came around after this, it'd be free pussy. A man's gotta have hobbies. These girls were just that, a hobby. Getting shot at was no fun but hell, it was part of the job. So it took a little more for me to unplug and unwind than the average Joe.
I flipped the redhead onto her stomach across from the brunette so I could look directly at her while I fucked the other girl. She just slowly shook her head, smiling in feigned outrage.
“Girl, you're gonna catch my dick on fire with a pussy that hot. Let me cool it down.” I nibbled at the redhead's lower lips and blew some air over them.
She swooned, her whole body shivered. I lined my cock up and slid in. A little looser than I'd have liked, but once I got going it didn’t matter. She moaned and quivered with each thrust. I speared her, ribbed walls contracting around my swollen cock.
Still, it was the brunette that I was really having sex with. I looked only at her and she at me. In the shallow light I could see her naked tits rapidly rising and falling. She licked her bottom lip and dragged her teeth down it. The corners of her mouth strained to keep from smiling.
I could see it on her. She wanted to speak. Wanted to plead. When she opened her mouth to do just that, I shook my head and slapped the redhead's ass.
The girl screamed, orgasm aftershocks reverberating throughout her. Her back arched in a backward C. Beginning at her curled toes, I felt her whole body tense up. Her thighs became steel cable, her ass was polished stone and her soaked pussy was a vice clamping down around my cock.
She squeezed me out like a bottle of hand lotion left in the sun on a hot day. I leaned back but fiercely ground her hard, tight ass into me. I let my head lull while I painted her pussy walls.
Then I collapsed on the bed, my dick whipping out of her and sending cum, both hers and mine, flying across the room. Sweaty and satisfied, we laid on the bed. I motioned for the brunette to lay with us. To lay with a filthy, naked mass of sated, carnal flesh atop a bed soaked through with alcohol and sex and a mountain of blood money.
Could life get any better?
The door smashed open. Wood chunks from the door frame peppered the room. Light flooded in. Or, more accurately, flashlights and screaming flooded in.
The answer was no, it couldn't.
The girls freaked and bolted from the bed. I knew what was about to go down, so I just laid there and enjoyed my throne for the last few moments.
“Freeze! On the ground now!” Shouted one of the three angry, armed men.
“Evenin' officers. What seems to be the problem?” I wasn't going anywhere under my own power, I was feeling a little drained.
“It's ten AM, asshole. What the fuck do you think the problem is? Hendrix 'Junkyard' Cedro, you're under arrest.” One of the overzealous cops dragged me from the bed and kindly helped me into the standard face down position with his knee. They cuffed me and stood me up.
Ten a.m.? Damn, it had been long night. I wasn't even tired, but that was probably because of the drugs. “Restraints aren't really my thing, officer, but if you go a few doors down, Fast Eddie loves that—”
“Shut up, shit head. We got you and your whole faggot bicycle club.”
Wishful thinking, asshole.
Yeah, they caught me with a shitload of money but the club had tied up all the loose ends that would've really put us away. I had made sure of that. Leaking this was the only method to guarantee we got away with the rest of the money.
What a way to go out. I couldn't help but smile. “I was acting under duress! I swear!” At this point it was all by the numbers. Line dancing. I was going for a ride, so why not enjoy it, right?
“Yeah? Tell that to the judge.”
“I'm serious, man! It was the only way into your Mom's pants. She's really kinky like that—” I got to find out what one foot of polished metal maglight tasted like. It brought me to my knees. Cops had no sense of humor. “Thanks for that,” I coughed, spitting out a wad of flesh. “But it was still worth it. There's this thing she does with her tongue—”
That's when the line dance turned into a mosh pit. It was all just boots and flashlights and sleep after that. It was a great plan.
As long as I survived.
Chapter 1
Maya
“Happy sweet sixteen, baby sister.” I pulled the wrapped present from my bag.
“Thanks, Maya. So... What'd you get me, you old hag?” Anna playfully ribbed me.
“Old hag?” I jerked the gift back away from her grasping hands. “I'm only ten years older than you and it looks like...” I singsonged the words at her. “I just got myself a new Coach handbag.”
“Really? Is it the tan and black Madison Carlyle?” Anna's blue eyes lit up in excitement. She snatched for it and again I pulled it away. “Mayaaaa,” she whined. Then looked at me with large puppy eyes. “I'll be your best friend forever...”
“I'll settle for you not being a bitch.” I squinted at her and finally let her wrench it from my hands.
“It's my birthday, I get to be as horrible as I want!” Anna squealed in delight and ripped open the packaging. The naked bag slid onto her shoulder with ease. She hugged me. “Thank you for this. And thank you for coming, I know it's difficult for you to be here.”
“I'd have been here earlier but I had a few things to wrap up at the office. And hey, just because Dad and I don't see eye to eye anymore doesn't mean I'll ever stop harassing you.” I winked at her. The party had wound down, most of the guests were finishing up. “Where is he?”
“I dunno. Club stuff, maybe? I haven't seen him yet today.” Anna was good at acting aloof. It was a survival mechanism she'd developed to not let things she loved crush her. Like her father missing her birthday party. I could always see through it though. I couldn't blame her for it, I did the same thing at her age right before Mom disappeared.
“Maya...What's this?” Anna pulled out the pistol I had put in her purse.
“Your real birthday present. It's a twenty two semi-automatic pistol.” Anna deserved not to get such a dangerous present but that was the world she was born into. That we were both born into.
She looked at me hard. Anna didn't like the club either. We'd both lost so much to it.
“Take it, Anna. Just keep it on you when you're at home or near any of the bikers.” I wish I had had that when I was sixteen. “Have any of them tried anything?”
Anna looked nervous, she leaned in and whispered in my ear, “It's not like that now. He doesn't let them stay over anymore.”
It made me furious. What kind of parent leaves their children in this kind of environment. It was criminal!
I sighed. Of course it was cri
minal. That was the whole point.
The front door swung open with a heavy crack. The music continued but the various conversations petered out.
Dad was home, he was drunk and he wasn't alone.
Anna slid the gun back into her purse and hugged me again.
“Just stay safe, baby sister,” I whispered back to her.
Anna was a wonderful, smart girl and I did everything in my power to keep her from getting hurt. I even went so far as to challenge our father for custody.
I lost. Being that, Slick, as he was known in the club, had no priors and nothing to tie him to any alleged illegal activity, the judge ruled on his behalf. As far as the government was concerned, he was just a tax paying, law abiding carpenter.
Walking out of that courtroom was the first time he'd ever threatened me. My father's words, muttered clearly through a plastic coffee cup, because we were in public, still chill me. “Your mother vanished, I hope that's not contagious.” The words struck me like an arctic breeze bending Caribbean palm trees. It was wrong and horrible to hear that from my only parent.
I kept Anna as close as possible but it would never be enough. For the next two years, whether I liked it or not, Anna was his. A prisoner to the notorious Blue Angels motorcycle club.
When father and company walked in, they dragged with them an oppressive cloud of worn-in cigar smoke, worn-out pussy and old, spent oil. If the path to Hell had a scent, it would be that.
“The fuck is all this... Dad's temperature rose with his confusion. The remaining guests took a few steps back, visibly anxious at the outburst. He was an emotional man who was quick to anger and quicker to violence. As Mom found out a few times.
Dad saw the cake and decorations and slapped himself on the forehead, immediately remembering what day it was. “Aww shit, baby! That was today? Fuck. Guys, it's my beautiful daughter's birthday!”
He had the slumped shoulder sag of a life's worth of bad bike posture as he sauntered over to Anna.
