by Chiah Wilder
She placed the mugs and dishes in the dishwasher and turned to look at Rock, who was already on the small love seat next to the fireplace. She padded over to him. “You make a mean snowman,” she said softly.
Gathering her in his arms, he held her snugly. “I’m a mean sonofabitch. That’s the only kind of snowman I know how to make.”
She giggled and looked up; his eyes brimmed with tenderness and passion, and his smile was as intimate as a kiss. Reaching out, she softly brushed her fingers against his cheek. “I’m so lucky to see the gentle, loving side of you.”
“You’re everything to me, chouchou.” His last words were smothered on her lips, and his kiss sang through her veins.
As they sat by the fire, twisted together, they touched, kissed, and murmured loving words to each other. They had time to enjoy their time alone; Andrew and Jack would be engrossed in their video game until the gray skies turned inky.
And they’d planned to take full advantage of it.
* * *
A week later, Rock and Clotille’s house was bustling with people. It was the first formal party they’d thrown. Clotille wanted to make sure everything was perfect even though Rock kept telling her to “calm the fuck down.”
“Clotille, your crab and shrimp étoufée was fantastic. You’ve got to give me the recipe,” Cara said as she dried the pots and pans.
“I never cared much for Cajun food, but fuck, girl, you converted me.” Cherri sat at the island folding the desert napkins.
Clotlille laughed. “That’s a compliment, Cherri. When Rock and I left Lafayette after the trial, we went crazy and bought a bunch of spices, dried chiles, red beans, and other things. We had the back of the SUV filled. Andrew thought we were crazy as hell, but I still have some of the spices.”
“You can order those things online, can’t you?” Addie picked up a chocolate covered strawberry and popped it in her mouth.
“Yeah, but it’s not the same as the local neighborhood markets.”
“These are delicious.” Addie took another strawberry. “You should have these at your wedding, Cara.”
“I can’t believe you’re finally going to do it. I can’t wait to see Hawk walk down the aisle in a tux.” Belle laughed as she put the leftovers in tupperware that Clotille had given her.
“Hawk’s wearin’ a tux? No fuckin’ way.” Cherri clapped her hands while she laughed.
“Not so loud. If Hawk knows we’re laughing about him wearing a tux, all my hard work in convincing him will be gone in a minute. In a few weeks, I’m dragging him to a cake tasting. He doesn’t know it yet.” Cara’s bemused look made Clotille grin.
“I can’t believe you talked Hawk into a country club wedding,” Baylee said before taking a sip of her wine. “And he’s been so involved in picking the furniture for your house. When I told Axe that, he didn’t believe me. He thought I was exaggerating. These guys.” Baylee rolled her eyes, but her smile was soft and tender.
“I can’t picture Rock agreeing to a country club wedding.” Clotille commented.
All the women stopped talking and stared at her. “Are you hiding something from us?” Addie asked. “Are you guys going to get married?”
“Axe will totally not believe that,” Baylee said.
Clotille’s face turned red and her fingers touched her lips. “No. Oh no. I didn’t mean that. I just meant it’s funny to think of one of these guys dressed up and in a country club. Rock and I are taking it slow.”
“Taking it slow doesn’t exist in these guys’ vocabulary. When they want something they go for it no matter what.” Cara shook her head. “Hawk was a persistent one, that’s for sure.” The group of women laughed.
“How did you get Hawk to agree not to have a biker wedding?” Belle asked. “Banger wouldn’t even consider not having one.”
“Chas and I had a beautiful one. I loved every minute of it.” Addie leaned her chin on her hand.
“You had a fuckin’ awesome wedding, Addie. If Jax and I decided to get married, I want you to help me plan it. I loved what you did.” Cherri sat on one of the stools at the island.
“The compromise for Hawk indulging me and my parents was for me to agree to a biker wedding. So we’re having two. I’ll be dead before we go on our honeymoon.” Cara folded the dish towel over the towel rack.
“Two weddings? That’s insane.” Baylee laughed.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. Hawk’s planning the second one.”
“What the fuck am I planning?” Hawk walked into the kitchen, and all the women stopped talking. “I knew you were talkin’ about me. I could sense it in the other room. What shit you been telling the ladies about me, babe?” Hawk swung Cara into the circle of his arms and nuzzled her neck. She giggled. “You telling ‘em about our love life? I fuckin’ hope not ‘cause the room’s going to explode if you are.” He kissed her, his hand running down her back.
“Aren’t you inflating our love life just a bit?” Cara said, pressing closer to him.
“Am I, baby?”
“No. Not at all,” she whispered, but Clotille overhead her and smiled. She really liked Cara, and she seemed to be able to handle Hawk, who usually had a scowl on his face except when Cara was around. Hawk sort of scared her, but Rock told her he wasn’t as mean as he looked. Clotille wasn’t too sure about that.
“What are you ladies up to?” Rock asked as he came over to Clotille and tugged her close to him.
“Just talking,” she said.
“Talkin’ or gossiping?” Banger’s deep voice filled the room. His blue eyes twinkled as he went over to Belle.
“Talking. Don’t you guys have some motorcycle stuff you need to discuss?” Addie placed her hands on her hips, smiling when Chas came into the room followed by Axe and Jax.
Soon the kitchen was filled with all the couples and Clotille and Cara laid out the pastries, cookies, and fruit on the island, creating a dessert bar. Rock poured shots of Jack, and opened up several more bottles of wine. They ate, talked, and laughed until late in the night.
After the last couple left in the frigid night air, Clotille closed the door. “I can’t wait to take these damn heels off. My feet are killing me.”
“I’ll help you with those, chérie.” Rock led her to the family room where they sat on the couch. She rested her back against the arm of the couch, and Rock, sitting next to her, took her feet and placed them in his lap. He took off her shoes and massaged her feet.
She groaned. “That feels so good, cher. You’ve got the right touch.”
He chuckled and kept kneading her feet. “You did a good job with the dinner party. The food was excellent. Everyone had a real good time.” He bent down and kissed her toes. She giggled. “I love you so much, chouchou.”
She leaned forward and ran her fingers through his hair. “I love you, too. I’m so happy.” She took a deep breath. “What would you say to us having another kid?”
Rock stopped massaging her feet. He looked at her. “Are you pregnant?”
A smile whispered across her lips. “No, but I’d like to be. I’m thinking of getting off the pill. I want another child. I’m hoping you do, too.”
A wide grin spread over his face. “Fuck yeah. I wanna have more kids with you. What you told me has made me very happy, chérie.” He held her hand and pulled her up with him. “Andrew’s over at Jack’s grandparents for the night. We’ve got all fuckin’ night to love each other. Let’s get started.”
They climbed the stairs and when they went into their bedroom, he tenderly undressed her and kissed and caressed every inch of her body. By the time they lay down on the bed, they were rabid for the feel of their skin against each other’s. Flames of desire licked over them, and she spread herself wide, desperate to feel him inside of her. They had the whole night to savor, but for right then, she needed it fast and hard.
“You want it bad, chouchou.” He chuckled, the vibration tickling her stomach as he slid his tongue further down her body. Then
After their breathing returned to normal, he lightly fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. “If we’re going to start a family, we need to get hitched. I’m fuckin’ old fashioned when it comes to that.”
Her heart soared. “Me too.”
He kissed her head. “I’ve loved you for years, ma pétite chérie. Je t’aime. I’m never letting you go again.”
She squeezed him tighter around his waist. “Je t’aime, aussi. Being with you is like a dream come true. For so long I was searching for something that was missing in my life, and now I’ve found it. I love you.”
“We were both lost for a while, but we found our way back to each other. It’s fuckin’ awesome.”
After a couple of minutes, she asked, “When we get married, will you wear a tux?”
“What the hell? Fuck no. It’s leather and jeans all the way, chérie.” She laughed until her eyes watered. “What’s so funny?” He stroked her cheek with his thumb.
“Nothing, cher. I love you so much.”
He pulled her tight to him, and she relished the warmth of his body. As she looked out the window, watching the snowflakes dance in the sky, she realized that she and Rock were finally whole again.
And it was damned sweet.
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Previous Titles in the Series:
Hawk’s Property: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 1
Jax’s Dilemma: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 2
Chas’s Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 3
Axe’s Fall: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 4
Banger’s Ride: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 5
Jerry’s Passion: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 6
Throttle’s Seduction: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 7
Notes from Chiah
I have so many people to thank who have made my writing endeavors a reality. It is the support, hard work, laughs, and love of reading that have made my dreams come true.
Thank you to my amazing Personal Assistant Amanda Faulkner who keeps me sane with all the social media, ideas, and know how in running the non-writing part smoothly. So happy YOU are on my team!
Thank you to my editor, Kristin, for all your insightful edits, excitement with the Insurgents MC series, and encouragement during the writing and editing process. I truly value your editorial eyes and suggestions as well as the time you’ve spent with the series. You’re the best!
Thank you to my wonderful beta readers, Kolleen, Paula, Jessica, and Barb—my final-eyes reader. Your enthusiasm for the Insurgents Motorcycle Club series has pushed me to strive and set the bar higher with each book. Your dedication is amazing!
Thank you ARC readers you have helped make all my books so much stronger. I appreciate the effort and time you put in to reading and reviewing the books.
Thank you to my proofreader, Daryl, whose last set of eyes before the last once over I do, is invaluable. I appreciate the time and attention to detail you always give to each book.
Thank you to the bloggers for your support in reading my book, sharing it, reviewing it, and getting my name out there. I so appreciate all your efforts.
Thank you to Carrie from Cheeky Covers. You put up with numerous revisions, especially the color of Rock’s tattoos until I said, “Yes, that’s the cover!” Your patience is amazing. You totally rock. I love your artistic vision.
Thank you to Ena and Amanda with Enticing Journeys Promotions who have helped garner attention for and visibility to the Insurgents MC series. Couldn’t do it without you!
Thank you to the readers who support the Insurgents MC series. You have made the hours of typing on the computer and the frustrations that come with the territory of writing books so worth it. You make it possible for writers to write because without you reading the books, we wouldn’t exist. Thank you, thank you!
Rock’s Redemption: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Book 8)
Dear Readers,
Thank you for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed the eighth book in the Insurgents MC series as much as I enjoyed writing Clotille and Rock’s story. This rough motorcycle club has a lot more to say, so I hope you will look for the upcoming books in the series. Romance makes life so much more colorful, and a rough, sexy bad boy makes life a whole lot more interesting.
If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. I read all of them and appreciate the time taken out of busy schedules to do that.
I love hearing from my fans, so if you have any comments or questions, please email me at [email protected] or visit my facebook page.
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A big thank you to my readers whose love of stories and words enables authors to continue weaving stories. Without the love of words, books wouldn’t exist.
Happy Reading,
Chiah
AN INSURGENT’S WEDDING
Book 9 in the Insurgents MC Series
Coming in December 2016
Note: This short excerpt is a ROUGH DRAFT. I am still writing the story about Hawk and Cara’s wedding. It has only been self-edited in a rudimentary way. I share it with you to give you a bit of an insight into An Insurgent’s Wedding.
Prologue
Federal Correctional Institution
Florence, Colorado
He watched as she shimmied down the hall, her big tits swaying, her keys clanging with each step. When she approached his cell, she threw him a quick, furtive glance then walked past, acting like he was just another inmate. His thin lips curled up, and he knew when she came back later with four other correctional officers to do a cell block inspection, he’d have her up against the wall and rubbing her breasts while she pressed into him, grinding her pussy against him like a slut. He counted on it; she was his ticket out of the hellhole he’d be sentenced to. Their time against the concrete wall would be fast, but it would be enough to wet her pussy and crave his tongue on it.
Viper sat on the edge of his hard bed. His cell was a cube of concrete with a small window placed in such a way that all he could see was the sky and the red tile of the adjacent buildings. Sounds echoed down the corridors, and the ever-present din of metal against metal filled his ears.
He’d been stuck in the high-security prison ever since he entered his plea of guilty more than two years before. Viper often entertained himself by recreating the events of that night in the way that they should have played out. He shook his head as the images of his downfall assaulted his mind. His unadulterated hatred for Hawk fueled him on; it kept him a model prisoner so he could lay low as he worked his magic on Officer Brenda Rourke.
A busty thirty-two year old, Brenda Rourke had worked as a correctional officer for the past ten years. She’d never been disciplined, and had a stellar employee record as she often told Viper. When he first spotted her six months before, she acted like he was just Inmate 10567, but the way she’d slide her eyes over him told him she was his ace in the hole in escaping. So he became the model prisoner. The fights between him and the Aryan gang members halted, he didn’t cuss out the prison guards, and he did as he was told. It fucking tore him up inside each time he answered, “Yes sir,” but the anticipation of sweet freedom made his words sound sincere.
He’d even gone so far as feigning remorse for all his bad actions that landed him in prison. And that gem earned him the privilege of working in the laundry room, and it was there that he kissed and touched Brenda, her small moans disgusting him. She’d been the one to tell him that the security camera did its sweep around the room at thirty second intervals. When it scanned past them, he had a half a minute to shove his hand down her pants and touch her damp pussy. And it was always wet for him. It amazed him how horny she was for him.
After six months, she’d proclaimed her love to him in simple notes she left under his pillow after she inspected his room. He read them with humor, pretending to be touched by her proclamations of love. Her note from the previous week had read “I love you. I can’t live without you. I wish you were free.” Those were the words he’d be waiting to hear. She’d be instrumental in getting him out of the razor-wired-fence compound that sat on a cleared patch of red-brown turf.
Viper leaned back against the cold wall, waiting for his favorite guard to come back for inspection when all of a sudden, loud shouts bounced off the walls. Pounding shoes on concrete filled the corridors as grunts and cries accompanied the thuds of bodies colliding. The stream of officers blurred past his cell as he fought to stay on his bed; he desperately wanted to be in the thick of the violence. He wanted to slam heads against the concrete, choke the life out of inmates and guards alike, and plunge his newly acquired shank deep into the belly of The Baron—the head of the Aryan gang who had a personal vendetta against all bikers.
Then suddenly, a deafening silence of voices.
Fuck! It’s gonna be another goddamned lockdown. Lockdowns occurred almost weekly in the violent atmosphere of that prison. Race wars were brutal and constant, and the tension was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Lockdowns meant no more laundry room duties, no mixing with the general population, staying twenty four seven in the cells, and no Brenda. Fuckin’ assholes!
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