Ride or Die 2

by Claire C. Riley

  She held out the bottle of beer to me, a small curve to the corner of her plump mouth. “Peace offering?” she said.

  “Sure,” I replied, reaching out and taking the bottle. Yeah, this girl was gonna be on her knees or on her back in no time. No top, tiny shorts, and a bottle of beer? Girl hadn’t even bothered to cover up her tits. All the signs of I want you to fuck me, Casa.

  And of course I was always happy to oblige.

  “I have a face, you know,” she bit out.

  I lifted my gaze to her mouth, wondering what those fat, pink lips would look like wrapped around my cock as I pumped into her mouth, and then I looked up into her face and grinned.

  “Can’t say I noticed,” I teased.

  I drank some of my beer, watching as she mimicked my movement. Yeah, she was mine, all right. She wanted it—me—no matter how much she was trying to play hard to get. I moved toward her, my hands begging to grab hold of that tiny waist of hers, and she cocked her head to one side, probably trying to decide whether to let me fuck her over the kitchen table or take her upstairs to the bedroom. Pretty girl like her probably liked it a little rough, though, and I wasn’t fussy. Quite liked the idea of fucking her over the kitchen table where Dom probably ate his breakfast. Motherfucker was my brother, but he’d acted out of place yesterday at Church. Besides, if he was going to eventually claim this girl, he should really know how easy she was beforehand.

  Regardless, she didn’t belong to anyone right now. No man had claimed her, not even Dom, and therefore she was free pussy for now.

  “You here to help?” she asked, taking a mouthful of beer from the bottle and swallowing it down.

  “Somethin’ like that,” I grinned, liking that we had our own little catchphrase already. “You need help with something, girl? Because I’m a man of many talents.” I winked and she laughed. Real pretty laugh, too.

  We stood barely a hand-span apart, our gazes locked. Bitch was hot, no doubt, but she was like every other piece of ass out there—easy. Bet she liked freeloading off Dom, too. Got a nice place to live in, brother to fuck, and pieces of action on the side. She clearly knew how to take care of herself. I sucked in my bottom lip and appraised her from head to toe.

  “You like what you see?” she asked, her voice thick and husky.

  I shrugged. “Tits an’ ass, is tits an ass, girl,” I said, reaching around her to give that pert ass of hers a squeeze. My cock jumped in excitement, eager to get down to business. “Ain’t nothing I ain’t seen before. But yeah, it’s good.”

  Hurt flashed in her eyes but she forced a smile to her face, knowing I’d caught her out. She put a hand on my chest, pushing me back lightly until we were both standing outside on the back porch. She smiled, I smiled—I bet my cock even smiled. Knew this bitch was dirty, wanting to do it outside and shit. Maybe she wasn’t as predictable as I thought.

  And then she stepped back inside and slammed the door shut in my face. I blinked in surprise, scowling at her through the glass.

  “What the fuck?” I asked.

  “You want to help? Open the shed and see if there’s a lawnmower in there—the grass needs cutting.” And then she turned and walked away from me, sashaying that pert little ass of hers like a taunt.

  I barked out a laugh. No woman had ever turned me down.

  “Well shit,” I said, laughing. “Game fucking on.”

  Chapter nine:

  Harlow

  I thought the prospect would have left, but he didn’t. He did what I asked, smashed the lock off the shed door and looked inside for a lawnmower. As I’d suspected, there wasn’t one in there, and he’d stalked off after that, the sound of his truck echoing through the trees.

  I snorted out a laugh—not at him, but at me. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had no idea where that confidence had come from, but I liked it. He was attractive, there was no denying that. Golden skin from riding his bike in the sun, wide-set shoulders, tall, and with the darkest eyes I had ever seen. I didn’t know what color hair he had because he wore a black knitted beanie, but I could imagine that it was dark—maybe black, or brown like his eyes. But he was also a cocky shithead that needed knocking down a peg or two. And since I was sworn off men for the foreseeable future, I had decided to be the one to do it.

  Looked like it had worked, too, because when he couldn’t find a lawnmower he’d turned tail and left, leaving his empty bottle of beer on the table outside.

  I seasoned the snake with garlic salt, seasoning salt, and some pepper, and threw it on the grill before making a start on chopping up some salad. I hadn’t heard from Dom since the first call that morning, but he’d said he would be away for a few days so there was no reason to wait.

  I flipped the snake meat over, basting it with some more-than-likely-out-of-date barbecue sauce, and loaded the salad onto my plate before switching off the grill, putting the snake next to my salad, and heading outside with another beer in hand.

  I was halfway through eating when the sound of a truck sounded out at the front of the house and moments later the two prospects I’d met that day came around carrying a lawnmower.

  The one I’d seen earlier that morning waved at me. “Hey!”

  “Hey.” I waved back, sitting forward on my chair to see what they were doing. “What’s your name?” I asked, because I felt more comfortable with him now since he was clearly a Highwayman. He was even wearing his cut and everything, I thought with a laugh.

  “Max.” He smiled. “Harlow, right? Dom’s girl.”

  “That’s right,” I replied as the cocky prospect from earlier glanced up at me with a dark look.

  He glanced back at Max. “Get going, I’ve got this.”

  “You sure, Casa? I can help if you want.”

  So that was his name—Casa.

  Max reminded me of a puppy: gentle, playful, eager to please. He was never going to make the cut and become a real Highwayman if he didn’t harden up. And Casa, he reminded me of a wolf: focused on the hunt and the prey, and in it for the long game.

  “Nope, I got it,” Casa replied, his gaze back on me.

  Max waved goodbye to me and took off, and I listened as a truck backed away from the house. I focused on my food, trying to ignore Casa as he pulled off his T-shirt to reveal a tanned washboard stomach. I swallowed nervously and looked away as he started to mow the lawn, his Highwaymen tattoo flexing as he worked.

  It was four o’clock, but the day was still hot, and sweat soon glistened down his chest and back. He dragged his hat from his head to reveal short, dark hair underneath, and I grinned to myself because I’d gotten it right.

  I finished my food and took my plate to the kitchen, almost dropping the dish when Casa fired his gun. I turned around to see him lifting a dead snake off the ground, and he looked up and caught my eye with a grin. There would be no eating that snake, since he’d blown it apart. I rolled my eyes and continued into the kitchen to wash my dish.

  Alpha males were so predictable.

  I grabbed another beer for myself and went back to sit outside, watching as Casa continued to finish cutting the lawn. I was halfway through my third beer of the day, with my feet up resting on a chair and my face tipped to the sky, when he finished and started to pack away the mower. He slammed the door shut on the shed and stalked toward me, a menacing look in his eye.

  He was hot, and clearly he hadn’t enjoyed any part of doing that for me, but if it was one thing I knew, it was men. And men would do anything if they thought they could get laid for doing it. He grinned as he came closer, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth.

  “You got another beer, girl?” he asked. “It’s hot as hell out here.” He smiled, looking at me through his lashes.

  I downed the last part of my beer and put it down on the table between us, giving a small shrug to him. I leaned forward across the table and smiled. “Sorry, I’m all out.”

  I stood up and started to walk back inside when I heard him charge up the porch steps two at a time
. His hand reached for me, grabbing me by my arm and swinging me around to face him, and then he was there, right in front of me, pushing me back against the wall.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” he yelled in my face.

  “What?” I tried to duck under his arm but he stepped closer to me, his heady scent washing over me.

  “I cut your fucking lawn, girl!”

  I blinked, surprised by his anger. “So?” I scowled. “What? Did you think I’d fuck you for cutting the lawn?” I rolled my eyes when he looked shocked. “Oh my god, you did. You men are all the same. I’m not a whore you asshole!”

  His nostrils flared. “And you clubsluts are all the same,” he sneered. “You freeloading off my boy so you can get an easy life? Well, he won’t claim you, girl. Man like him ain’t made to settle down with one woman. So you’re wasting your time.”

  His words made me laugh—like for real, out loud, inappropriate laugh—because he clearly had no idea how right he was. No, Dom would never claim a woman—not me, and not anyone else either. That part was true, at least.

  The more I laughed, the more furious Casa became, and then he suddenly leaned in and kissed me, hard. His lips took mine, his chest pressing against mine as I pushed at him and moved my head away.

  “Get off me!” I yelled in his face, slapping at his chest to make him back up a little. I was furious that he thought he could have me just because he wanted me. I wasn’t a clubslut anymore and I wouldn’t be treated as one.

  “Cocktease,” he sneered, his chest rising and falling.

  “Pig!” I retorted, glaring at him. Seriously, there must have been something in the water because I should have known better than to speak to a biker like that. I’d dealt with bikers my whole life, and I knew better than this. Maybe that was the problem though. I was sick of them all.

  They were all chauvinistic, arrogant, sexy-as-hell but completely unreliable.

  We stared at each other for long seconds in silence, his angry gaze burning into mine, his chest heaving. I thought he was going to kiss me again, and my lady parts tingled in anticipation, because clearly they hadn’t received the memo that big, bad, bikers were scary and off the table for now.

  But it didn’t matter, because he slammed a hand against the wall next to me so hard I squealed, and then he turned and left without another word.

  I rolled my eyes. “I wish I was a lesbian,” I muttered. At least then I would have been able to give him a genuine reason for not sleeping with him, instead of coming across like a prude. Because I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to him, but I was done with men altogether—bikers especially. So done with them.

  I did feel a little guilty for leading him on. But then maybe he shouldn’t have just presumed that I was going to have sex with him. I walked inside, closing the door behind me and locking it for good measure.

  Dom really needed to get better friends.

  And the Highwaymen needed better prospects. Because between Max and Casa, they were really scraping the bottom of the barrel.

  I guess that was one thing that still hadn’t changed in all these years.

  I still hated his friends and I still hated his club brothers.

  At least this one was trying to fuck me and not Dom, though. That was a difference between then and now, at least. It was almost comical.

  Chapter ten:

  Harlow

  Dom laughed down the phone, so loudly I had to move it away from my ear. “I should have said. We’re on a Code 55—no colors showing, no weapons. And Casa, he’s—”

  “Well, he had a gun, Dom! Came around all guns blazing—literally!”

  “Yeah, he’ll get shit for that, but look, Casa is—”

  “—and he’s a little pervert too. He thought I’d fuck him for cutting the lawn, can you believe it!”

  “Actually, yeah, I can believe that,” Dom laughed again. “I’m gonna kill that little prick when I get back though,” he managed to say between laughter. “Make sure you tell him I said that, too.”

  “I can handle him,” I replied, not wanting to come across as weak.

  “I know you can. Always loved that about you, Red.”

  We both went silent on his words and I smiled into the empty kitchen. Bikes roared to life in the background and Dom cleared his throat.

  “I gotta go.”

  “I’ll see you soon?” I asked.

  “Couple of days. I’m sending a prospect back over today to take you to the store.” He chuckled lightly and I smirked. “Go with him today, please? I don’t wanna be worrying about you starving while I’m gone.”

  “I won’t starve,” I protested, “I’ll just catch another snake,” I laughed and he joined in.

  “Real good to have you back. Can’t explain it. But knowing that you’re there, in my house, makes me feel invincible.”

  I closed my eyes, listening to his words and letting them sink into my skin. “That means a lot, Dom.”

  He cleared his throat again. “Gotta go, we’re heading out. Make sure to go with the prospect, get what you need—anything at all. Give him shit, okay? He’s just a prospect, needs to learn some respect.” He chuckled and I felt like I was missing something.

  “Can’t you send someone else?” I pleaded, not wanting to see Casa again.

  “Everyone is busy. You’ll be fine. You can handle him.”

  I groaned and said goodbye and then Dom hung up.

  I thought about what he’d said, even gave myself a little pep talk in the mirror as I waited for Casa to come and pick me up.

  Twenty minutes later I heard the sound of a truck outside, and I stepped back from the window so he wouldn’t see me waiting for him.

  He scowled as he climbed the small porch steps and knocked on the door, and I put on my biggest smile as I opened it. I’d barely gotten the door open when Casa barked out an order to hurry the fuck up because he had more important shit to do than this and headed back to the truck.

  I stepped outside and locked the door before walking to the truck, feeling my cheeks heat from embarrassment. I climbed into the truck, my heels making it difficult to climb inside.

  Casa barely glanced at me, his eyes glued to his cell screen as he read a message, so I buckled up and waited for him to get going. He tapped away furiously on the phone, and though the blowers were on in the truck, there was no A/C, and sweat began to trickle between my breasts. I had cut up another one of Dom’s T-shirts to make it fit me, but the material was thick and I was getting hotter by the second all the time the prospect sat there oblivious.

  How he was even wearing a hat in this weather was beyond me.

  I cleared my throat, hoping to draw his attention, but still got no reply.

  “Excuse me, are we going?” I asked, almost timidly.

  He huffed and slowly turned to look at me, and I knew when he finally saw me because I saw the raw, untamed desire run through his features. He smiled, and if it was even possible, he looked even more striking than before. His gaze rolled up and down my body, taking in every inch of me that he could, and then some.

  “Can we start again?” I asked, thinking maybe this would be easier if I apologized for yesterday. It had to have hurt his ego, after all. “Introductions and everything, because I feel we didn’t get off to a good start, and if I’m honest, I really hate confrontation.”

  He smirked. “Sure.” He nodded, his smile widening. “I’m Casa, and you’re her.”

  “Her?” I replied.

  “Dom’s bitch.” His gaze still moved over me, almost like I was already naked and he was admiring me. But I wasn’t naked. I was fully clothed and hot as fuck in this truck. Hotter still now that I was spitting mad.

  “I’m no one’s bitch,” I stated, holding my voice firm. Clearly this wasn’t going to work after all. But as much as I wanted to get out of the truck and flip him the bird, I decided not to, instead thinking of what Dom had said about not worrying about me. I could handle this asshole, I decided. I’d h
andled much worse over the years. So much worse.

  The prospect barked out a laugh. “Everyone is someone’s bitch, girl,” he said, and put the truck in reverse.

  “You’re one to talk,” I muttered.

  “The fuck you talking about now?”

  “You’re a prospect, so that makes you the Highwaymen’s bitch.”

  He stopped the truck abruptly, the squeal of tires echoing around us, and then turned to face me, his forehead scrunching up like he was trying to work out what to say to me, before finding the right words. “I’m a motherfucking prospect now?”

  I nodded, wishing I’d kept my damn mouth shut. But I’d never been very good at that. “Yes, and Dom said not to take any shit from you.”

  A smile rose to his face and he grinned. “Is that so?”

  I nodded again, crossing my arms over my chest and wishing that there was more air inside this truck.

  “All right, so I guess we’re both bitches today,” he laughed. “I’ll play the part.”

  I was about to tell him, again, that I wasn’t someone’s bitch, but decided against it. What did it even matter what he thought of me.

  Casa started to drive and I focused my attention outside, not wanting to get into a discussion with him. In fact, the sooner we got this over with, the better. I had been looking forward to buying some new clothes, but right then I just wanted to be as far away from that man as possible. He was rude, obnoxious, and disgusting. And attractive as hell, of course. But all the assholes tended to be. That was the story of my damned life.

  My thoughts ran through my head and I tried to not be annoyed by his comments, but the more I tried not to be annoyed, the more annoyed I got. By the time we pulled up to a large superstore and he switched off the engine, I was livid.

  I turned to him, my angry glare catching him off guard.

  “Woah, easy there, girl,” he mocked with a cocky smile. “What’s got up your pussy today? Nothing, I’m guessing.” His gaze narrowed on me, a smirk on his face because he knew he was getting to me. Well, fuck him, I decided.