Bed of Roses (Devil Savages MC)
Page 17
“Well f***, we are gonna lose money on that piece of ass, she won’t get a rise out of any pricks,” Maxi said and the men laughed.
The woman was obviously a novice, the one thing she had going for her was her long, red, curly hair and voluptuous body to distract men from her dancing. Even from where they were sitting they could see her bright green eyes, shit they were sexy. Easy frowned as he noticed the woman for the first time. She didn’t look like she belonged here. Even though she was smoking hot, her movements weren’t smooth, but it didn't keep his c*** from going hard even as he watched the chick move like a freak.
“Damn,” Easy said and shook his head. Poke looked at his usually quiet friend and raised his eyebrows. Easy got his name for never saying much, he was quiet, but deadly, when he struck, most never saw it coming. The scars on his face and body showed that if pushed, things could get ugly with the huge f***er.
“What?” Poke said and grabbed the beer in front of him and took a long pull after releasing Shady’s nipple.
“How are you supposed to get a hard-on watching that? A bitch should have us beggin’ for a f***ing taste, watching her makes me check to make sure my d*** is still f***ing alive,” Maxi grumbled.
“She has great tits, hell, I am getting hard looking at her,” Poke shrugged.
“What the f*** is wrong with you, she looks like she is having a seizure,” Easy argued even as he adjusted in his seat. Damn, he was hard himself, yeah, he definitely needed to shoot his load. “Besides, you get f***ing hard when the damn wind blows.”
“Come on, who cares how she dances, she looks like she could f*** like a champ,” Poke said.
Easy rolled his eyes, of course his best friend would say that. He got his road name Poke because he would poke any woman he could. He was a man-whore and proud of it. Easy was one of the few that knew his mother was a whore, it explained a few things, which is why they worked so well together when it came to women. Easy didn’t show much emotion, and Poke faked a lot of it. They were the perfect match.
Like the rest of them who served in the military and had been in war zones—it changed them. They couldn’t follow normal rules, when they were in combat a certain mindset came into play, it was all about justice to these men. They had seen, more often than not, shit that wasn’t right, but the laws had hampered them. They had gotten in trouble the one time they had intervened when a group of militants was raping a young girl on the side of the road. The Warriors believed in delivering their own justice, what was right was right. Which is why the Ops Warriors MC was feared and respected. People knew not to cross them, if they did, they had better be able to deal with the consequences.
“Hey,” Poke laughed and said, “p**** is p****, and as long as I don’t have to put a bag over her head it is all good.”
“Prick,” Easy laughed and the men stood. Maxi groaned when Candy, the woman who belonged to the club and an experienced dancer, came to take the new chick’s place.
“Damn, Candy is coming. Shit, I swear I can see her juice from here,” Maxi said, running his hand over the crotch of his pants and adjusting himself.
Excerpt from Jen’s Journey
Masters of the Prairie Winds Club Book Three
By Avery Gale
Jen sat on the cold stone floor beneath the embassy and fumed. Fucking ass wads. I paid a lot of money for this outfit and sitting on this moldy floor is not helpful. And what the hell is their issue with me anyway? It had been obvious from the time the embassy had been stormed the men had known exactly who she was. Even though she had refused to acknowledge their repeated inquiries. In her opinion if they were too dimwitted to read the State Department identification card clipped to the lanyard around her neck, then they could go jump. It had been difficult to pretend she didn’t understand Spanish, but for once her finely honed skills as a ditsy blonde had paid off.
As a teenager, Jen had always struggled to fit in because she’d been shuttled between the various accelerated programs in different schools and had rarely been with anyone her own age. Her Mensa level IQ hadn’t been discovered until her freshman year of high school, after that her social circle had essentially dwindled to her instructors and her foster mother. The stab of pain that went through her heart whenever she thought about Millie Sinclair almost made her double over. Being moved into Millie’s home had been the biggest blessing Jen could have ever asked for. And when the sweet woman had died suddenly a couple of months before Jen turned eighteen, the only thing that had kept her from being turned over to yet another state agency had been Bill and Carol McDonald’s intervention.
Jen had been hired as a liaison of sorts for their daughter, Elza. The freshman girl had been struggling to adapt to college life because she was deaf and just negotiating the administrative system alone was difficult when none of the college staff signed. She and Elza shared an advisor and the young professor knew Jen was proficient in American Sign Language so it had been an easy match. What had been a surprise to everyone was what a godsend that pairing would turn into.
Elza was one of the sweetest people Jen had ever met and they’d bonded almost from the first moment they met. And even though her parents were wealthy beyond Jen’s comprehension, Elza had never been a diva or difficult to work with. The first time Jen had visited the McDonald Mansion outside of Austin she’d been so nervous she’d nearly turned around and headed back down the long drive to the iron-gated entrance without even slowing down. Elza had bounded down the enormous front staircase, her smile as wide as Jen had ever seen, her hands signing so fast Jen hadn’t even been able to keep up with her enthusiastic friend.
Pulling her legs up so she could rest her head on her arms, Jen turned her face from the men who sat staring at her from across the room. They’d released a few of the hostages when several had pointed out they were actually locals who didn’t deserve to be caught up in whatever issues the intruders had with the American staff. Jen had been scheduled to leave La Paz first thing in the morning and now the decision to stay an extra day and help the Ambassador with his special project seemed a little too coincidental for her liking. If that twiddle-dicked midget sold me out I swear I’ll kick his ass, tie him up in some of those fancy-assed knots the McCall brothers used on me, and drop his worthless self into Lake Titicaca. Jen snorted to herself, how fitting that a dweeb should land in a body of water named after words Americans associated with boobs and crap.
Excerpt from Mission: Compromised Submissive
Breaking Protocol Book Three
By Willow Brooke
Two months had passed since that night at the party, and things had only gone downhill since. Each time Vice was forced to interact with Dom, it had grown harder and harder, making her dread the deployment coming in just two days. The whole farm had been buzzing with blooming love and it made her want to barf.
This morning she had tried to avoid everyone like the plague, but it seemed the forces of Grey Skull were stacking against her. Now, here she was, stuck loading the damn truck in the blazing hot sun with none other than their fearless asshole leader himself.
“Vice, get your head out of your ass and get this shit tied up!” Dom snapped.
Vice fumed. She had been tying the damn tent poles and ammo boxes for the past three damn hours with him barking orders and had had just about enough. Standing up straight, she grasped the small of her back that was aching so bad she could scream and glared at him with daggers shooting from her eyes.
“I don’t know what the hell has crawled up in your ass and camped out but you best get it out before I knock it out.” Her fists doubled at her sides and her eyes narrowed, daring him to say something.
The corners of Dom’s lips tilted up into a cocky smirk. Slowly, he walked toward her, stalking like a prowling lion in that moment before it took down its prey. Her heart pounded against her chest, speeding with each step he took closer. Vice felt her stomach flip-flop, dropping into her toes as he came up, stopping only mere inches from her face. He
had intentionally invaded her personal space, using the uncomfortable closeness to knock her bearings—and it worked. She could feel his breath casting against her face, seeping in her pores like a searing branding iron. His eyes roamed over her features, looking for her to falter. She tried to remain cold as stone and keep her feelings hidden but knew he could see straight through her act. When he grinned, her gut twisted. How the hell did one man turn her body into a walking pile of mash potatoes? She watched as his lips parted, seeming to be in slow motion. “I assure you, nothing is in my ass, but if you keep getting lippy I will stick a plug in yours and spank it until it’s a pretty pink.”
Vice’s jaw hit the ground. When she finally found her tongue, she was boiling. “Your threats don’t work on me, Dom. You should know that by now…and you made it perfectly clear where you stood the night after the party. So, unless you want to loose a vital body part, I suggest you back the fuck off.” Her lip curled over her teeth, giving in to the pent up hurt and anger she had been holding since that mouthwatering, panty-twisting kiss.
Dom took a step back, mimicking the same reaction he had when he stormed off that night and backtracked. “You’re right. You are my soldier. Nothing else. Take five and finish up here.” He spun on his heel and disappeared for the rest of the day.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue