Ride or Die 2

by Claire C. Riley

  She’d come back out.

  The sun shone through the trees in the yard, flashing against her heated skin like she was fucking glowing or some shit. I blinked and swallowed, almost tripping over my own feet.

  She smiled and waved me over and then walked back inside.

  The weight in my chest eased off while simultaneously growing heavy, and I smirked as I went to the back of the truck to collect her groceries. I carried everything into the kitchen and she stood there with her hands on her little hips, looking at all of the bags, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Her expression had turned somber as she looked at all the shit she’d just bought.

  “What’s up now?” I asked. Not that I cared, but I was curious because I preferred it when she smiled than when she frowned.

  She shrugged but didn’t reply, just kept on chewing on her cheek hard enough that she was going to make it bleed if she kept on.

  I shook my head. “Right, well whatever. I gotta go.”

  I turned to leave when she spoke, and I had to turn back and ask her to repeat herself.

  “What?”

  “I said…” She cleared her throat nervously. “It doesn’t feel right.” She chewed her cheek again and I wanted to reach over and grab her cheeks in my hand and squeeze until she stopped biting it.

  “What doesn’t feel right?”

  “This. Spending his money.” She scowled as she spoke, one hand subconsciously going to her red hair and twirling it around one of her fingers.

  “So earn your own and stop taking his,” I snapped, feeling angry at her again. “You don’t have to fucking freeload off your man. I know it’s customary for your man to earn the money but I ain’t never been one for customs and shit.”

  Goddamned women, they were all the same. This was why they were only good for one thing. They were never fucking happy. No matter what.

  She looked up at me and blinked as if I’d just said that the president was a fucking alien. “Earn my own?” she repeated, sounding confused. “Like, get a job?” She frowned like it was the craziest thing she’d ever heard.

  I shook my head and laughed bitterly, my anger increasing. “Yeah, that’s right ain’t it—women like you are all the same. I gotta go. Shit to do, money to earn.” I cocked an eyebrow to make my point even more obvious, and she bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. At least she wasn’t biting her cheek anymore.

  She let out a breath and took a step back from me like I’d physically slapped her, and I sneered, happy that she felt the need to put some distance between us.

  Should have felt bad about that, but I didn’t.

  If I was being honest, it made me hard as fuck watching her bite down on that fat bottom lip of hers, her wide blue eyes all glassy and shit as she tried not to show me she was upset. It was sick as fuck to be turned on by her fear, but it wasn’t exactly the worst of what got me off. Not by a long shot.

  I turned and started to walk away from her.

  “You can’t talk to me like that,” she blurted out.

  I shook my head and kept on walking away from her, knowing I had to get out of there or I was gonna end up either really losing my shit and hurting her, or worse...

  I got to the front door as she caught up with me. “I’m serious. You can’t talk to me like that, prospect.”

  I turned back with a glint in my eye, watching her raise her chin in defiance of me, trying to prove she wasn’t scared and shit. Fucking liked that look on her. Made me want to fuck it out of her.

  “It’s Harlow, right?” I asked, narrowing my eyes and taking a step toward her, closing the distance between us.

  She nodded and I continued.

  “Well, my name’s Casa, short for Casa-fucking-nova, bitch, and I ain’t no prospect. I’m a motherfucking one hundred percent fully patched-in brother of the Devil’s Highwaymen 1% MC, and the next words out of your mouth better be ‘I’m sorry, Casa-fucking-nova, for being a raving bitch to you all day, and I’ll watch my mouth next time I see you.’”

  Her eyes widened, and I took another step closer, true fear creeping into her features.

  “Or, you better be on your knees ready to suck my cock as an apology in about five fucking seconds. You feel me, H?”

  Her eyes widened, her pupils dilated, and there was no denying that her nipples had just turned as hard as bullets—and I’d have given anything to suck on them right then. The things I would have done to this girl if it weren’t for Dom. Harlow opened her mouth, but barely any noise came out when she tried to speak. Shock had grabbed hold of those pretty vocal cords of hers and was holding them hostage, just like my cock wanted to do.

  I took another step closer, until our bodies were practically touching. “Tell you what I’ll do for you. The next time I’m here, you speak to me with a little more respect, and I won’t make you deep throat me right here in your own fucking hallway. Okay?”

  She nodded, her cheeks turning red like I’d just slapped them. She started to chew the inside of her cheek again, her chest heaving, and I reached over and squeezed her cheeks to stop her biting them. She did, of course, and then I leaned in and placed a hard, rough kiss on her puckered mouth.

  I didn’t kiss women, ever. It was a rule that I didn’t break for anyone. But this wasn’t a kiss, this was a motherfucking brand upon that sweet and feisty mouth of hers. And there wasn’t anything gentle or romantic about this. This wasn’t me claiming her. This was me making a point. Though I can’t deny that she ignited something that I couldn’t describe inside of me when our lips touched. It sure as shit wasn’t anything fucking wholesome, that was for certain.

  When I let go I licked my lips, loving the taste of her on them. She blinked in surprise and I grinned and then I turned and walked out of the house, slamming the door behind me, happy as a pig in shit that I’d gotten that look out of her.

  I shook my head as I stormed toward the truck and climbed inside. I stared at the closed front door, already wondering what she was doing just then—hoping that she had her hands down her pants as she thought about me, and then I slammed my fist on the steering wheel in frustration.

  This was not good. Not fucking good at all. I had no right to speak to Dom’s girl like that, and he’d fucking put me to ground if he knew I had. Couldn’t blame him, either, because if she were my girl, that’s exactly what I’d do too.

  I did not have time for shit like this.

  I did not have time for women in my life—certainly nothing more than a quick fuck.

  And certainly not one as complicated as Harlow.

  I started to back out of the driveway, watching as she came to stand at the front window.

  I did not have space in my life for a high-maintenance woman like her. Because high maintenance is exactly what she was, with her fucking sexy panties and come-fucking-hither looks! Yeah, I could speak like a real prince if I fucking needed to.

  I waved at her and chuckled cruelly when she quickly stepped away from the window.

  Wasn’t sure why I felt so angry that she was Dom’s and not mine. It’s not like I wanted the feisty little bitch to be mine anyway. But if I did, she couldn’t ever be. But I didn’t anyway.

  I needed to get back to the club, fuck some bitch—preferably someone with red hair, blue eyes, and prissy little upturned mouth—then get back to some real work, and not this babysitting bullshit. Because like I said, I did not have time for this.

  Or her.

  Or any of her bullshit.

  Or the bullshit drama it would cause.

  Yet as I drove, all I could think about was having her hair wrapped around my hand as I pulled it and fucked her from behind.

  A slow grin rose on my face when I thought of her expression when I’d told her who I was. That I wasn’t some little fucking prospect but a brother of the Devil’s Highwaymen and she had been speaking to me like a piece of shit all fucking day. She looked…turned on, scared, maybe a little bit of both. It was the kind of thing I fucking thrive
d on.

  I dragged a hand down my face, not sure what the fuck was happening with me and not enjoying whatever it was. Not one motherfucking bit.

  In fact, this whole thing was bullshit.

  Harlow was bullshit.

  Dom was bullshit.

  Everything was fucking bullshit.

  But if it was all bullshit, then why couldn’t I get her out of my fucking head?

  Chapter twelve:

  Casa

  The Pit was heaving for the first time all week. Looked like the word that had been put out to stay away had only worked for so long. Good thing, too, because only thing worse than a stripper with no one to strip for was a stripper not earning any tips. And these bitches were getting crazy.

  I nodded to Cutter as I headed into the back room. He’d been helping out the past couple of weeks since work had been slow at the garage. I liked having him around, he was a good brother and always had some funny fucking story to tell me. Or maybe I liked having a distraction form this place.

  Rider was on his way in to talk about what had been going down in Savannah, and I was eager to get away from the noise of the club. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I wondered what the fuck I was even doing working there. Long time ago I had had plans to do something with my art—custom bike decals and shit like that. Shooter had even made space for me at Hardy & Sons. But I’d bailed in favor of all the free pussy I could have here at the Pit.

  Seemed like a dumb fucking idea when I thought about it now. I had talent, and I was wasting it here.

  The music dulled to a low throb as I walked into my office, my eyes falling upon Apryl, one of my regular girls. She wasn’t scheduled for tonight, since it had gotten quiet, but it looked like she’d heard that business was picking up again. She was leaning back against my desk, clearly waiting for me.

  “Casa,” she purred my name as she stalked toward me, her fingers moving to the buttons on her long coat. “Any room for me out there tonight?”

  I looked her up and down and shrugged. “Not really sure, girl, schedule’s set and all. You know how it is.”

  I walked around to the other side of my desk and sat, slouching to one side and resting my chin on one hand. She pouted and followed me over, leaning so that her unbuttoned coat fell open and her tits were inches from my face.

  “I’m your best girl! You know you need me out there,” she grumbled, pulling my hat off to run her hands through my hair.

  I reached up and grabbed her by the waist, swinging her around so that she was sitting on my lap, and I buried my face in her breasts. She groaned, her hand reaching between us to rub my hardening cock.

  “Come on, Casa, let me just have one spot for tonight.”

  I lifted my face out of her breasts and looked up, and when she leaned down to kiss me I shrugged her off my lap. She squealed as she hit the floor.

  “You know I don’t kiss.” I cocked an eyebrow.

  Her cheeks were flushed as she crawled toward me, pushing my legs apart and moving her hands to my zipper. “I forgot, I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.” She pulled down my zipper and reached inside my jeans to pull out my cock, her hungry mouth leaning over to take it.

  I groaned and leaned back, hands behind my head as Apryl sucked me dry, my thoughts on Harlow and what her mouth would be like wrapped around me. Fuck me, she was irritating. Mouthy, stuck-up little bitch. Shouldn’t have mattered that her legs went on for days or that her ass had been tight and pert when I had grabbed it. Or that when she blushed her chest went red too, drawing my attention down to her gorgeous tits.

  None of that should have mattered.

  But if it didn’t matter, why hadn’t I stopped thinking about her?

  The door to my office opened and Rider strode in with Cutter and Max close behind.

  “Nice to see this place busy,” Rider said, taking a seat opposite me.

  “Sure is,” I replied.

  Apryl looked up at me, taking her mouth off of my cock.

  “It’s okay, girl, it’s only Rider and some other brothers. They don’t mind—do you, brothers?”

  “Fuck no,” Cutter said, leaning over to get a better look.

  I arched an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. “What? I like to watch.”

  I glanced back down at Apryl impatiently. “Have at it then, girl.”

  She blushed harder but started sucking me off again, and I focused on what Rider was saying.

  “Twitch is on board. Cost the club a fair bit, but Shooter reckons it will be worth it in the long run, and I’m inclined to believe that too,” Rider said, pulling out a small bottle and opening it. He dropped a couple of tablets into his hand and threw them to the back of his throat. “So now we’ve got the Burning Eights, the Pagans, and the Bangers on board with us. Reckon it’ll be enough.”

  I groaned as my balls drew tight and I blew my load into the back of Apryl’s throat. She swallowed it down like a fucking trooper, making sure she got every drop of it.

  “You about done there, brother?” Rider asked.

  I sat up straighter, pushing my cock back into my jeans.

  Apryl stood up, one hand on her waist. “Well? Can I have a set or not?” She looked over her shoulder at Cutter and smiled.

  “Sure, get out there. Tell Deana I said you can have her spot.” I slapped her ass and pushed her away from me.

  “But that bitch is crazy!” Apryl whined. “She’ll fucking kill me, Casa. Let me take someone else’s spot.”

  “Deana is the only one going up three times, so it’s hers or no ones.” I looked at Cutter, whose gaze was following Apryl across the room. “Take Cutter here with you—he’ll keep you safe, ain’t that right, brother?”

  Cutter looked across at me and grinned. “Sure will.”

  Apryl was still pouting, but she nodded okay before heading out of the room. She checked behind her to make sure that Cutter was coming, happy to see that he was.

  “Max, need you outside,” I said with a nod.

  Rider laughed as Max shut the door behind him and we were finally left alone. I grabbed two glasses from the top of the cabinet and handed one to Rider before pouring him a large whiskey.

  “I shouldn’t,” he said, taking the glass and necking it back. He groaned in satisfaction. “Fucking Charlie is driving me nuts. Watching me like a hawk to make sure I’m taking all this shit and stopping me from taking the one thing that will actually make me feel fucking better.”

  I poured him another double and sat back down. “She’s just trying to look after you, brother,” I said.

  “She’s fucking annoying,” he replied, throwing the double back.

  “She loves you. And Shooter gave her an order.” I grinned to lighten the mood, but it didn’t seem to work.

  He pulled out his meds and shook another two into his hand before swallowing them. “More trouble than she’s worth,” he muttered. “Like all women.”

  “So I’ve heard.” I laughed and poured him another shot. Felt sorry for him, truth be known. Couldn’t imagine having someone tell me what to do all the time, tell me what I couldn’t do, or who I could and couldn’t fuck. Fuck that. Wouldn’t catch me settling down anytime soon. Or ever. “You ever wish to be single again? No old lady to chain you down?”

  Rider looked at me like I’d lost my fucking mind. He picked up his glass and stood up. “All the fucking time,” he laughed, his dark mood finally breaking.

  I laughed back. “Fucking knew it.”

  “You ever think about getting yourself an old lady?” he asked, lighting a cigarette.

  I sneered. “Not till I’m on my deathbed and can’t chase tail all around town, nah.” We both laughed and clinked glasses.

  “I’m serious, Casa,” he finally said, going to stand at the window that overlooked the club. “Not all women are the same, my friend. Some of them…” He shook his head and sighed. “Some of them are fucking special.”

  I frowned at his turned back. “You fucking ser
ious? You just said you thought about being single and having no old lady, and now you really expect me to believe you when you talk about bitches being motherfucking special and shit?” I laughed loudly and stood up, going to stand by his side.

  “Damn straight I’m serious, Casa,” he replied.

  “No, brother,” I said with a shake of my head. “That life ain’t for me.”

  I watched the girls dancing, their tits swaying, their hips grinding to the beat. Fucking beautiful, all of them. Loved nothing more than pussy. Any pussy at all, I wasn’t a picky man. It was all the same to me.

  But right there and then, I would have given anything to have Harlow’s pussy.

  Chapter thirteen:

  Harlow

  Dom had been gone for three days, and I’d only had the one phone call from him. The only other person I had seen or spoken to was that asshole biker, Casa-fucking-nova.

  I rolled my eyes at myself. I had to stop calling him that. I bet that wasn’t even his real name. It was probably just some dumb biker nickname to turn all the women on. I rolled my eyes again and continued to stab at the omelet I had made myself for dinner.

  I was bored.

  Really bored.

  And I felt ungrateful because I was bored.

  I had cleaned every inch of Dom’s house, so much so that the place practically gleamed. Or at least it would have if the paint hadn’t been cracked, and the wallpaper hadn’t been dated and peeling. I cleaned away my plate and walked down the hallway, looking once again at the corner of wallpaper that was dangling down. It was only a tiny piece, but my OCD was on overdrive and it was screaming at me to pull it.

  I walked past it twice, and on my return journey I couldn’t resist anymore and I grabbed the dangling corner between my thumb and first finger and pulled with everything I had.

  There was instant regret, followed by euphoria as the paper tore almost all the way down. I laughed and then felt bad, but then laughed again. This wasn’t my house, it was Dom’s, and it wasn’t like I even had any paint to cover it up with. I could blame boredom, or temporary insanity, or I could hightail it before he came home, I guessed.