Ride or Die 2

by Claire C. Riley

  “Fuck, Dom,” Parker gasped, his hooded gaze on mine. One of his hands reached between us and was pulling on his own cock and I watched him, fascinated and turned on like I couldn’t explain.

  I tightened my grip on his legs, pulling his body closer to me so I could get in deeper, sliding in and out slowly until I found my pace. We moaned and he bit his lip as I began to move faster, because I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. Not like this. Not with him. The man that Butch run to when he ran from me. Anger surged through me. Anger at Parker for being the one that Butch could go to, and anger that I wanted him so much. Anger that he could give me the one thing that I craved.

  I fucked Parker harder and he gritted his teeth, gasping as he clenched his muscles and pulled on his cock even harder. I realized, as I fucked him and he groaned, that this wasn’t just sex, this was fucking. This was what-the-fuck-has-Butch-done-to-us fucking. And for the first time since Butch’s death, I let go of everything and equally let it all in. I felt it all.

  The pleasure, the pain, the desire, the need, the want, the goddamned hunger that had been clawing at my insides, desperate to escape and wanting me to be who I really was. To admit that this was me and it was okay. More than okay. It was fucking electric.

  “Harder,” Parker gasped, his eyes closed, his mouth open, sweat glistening across his chest and hard stomach. “Harder, Dom.”

  I slammed into him harder, taking my pain and misery out on him and feeling my balls drawing up, and when I came I came with a guttural roar as pleasure and satisfaction washed through me. I held still inside him as my cock twitched and throbbed, his muscles still clinging to me. I closed my eyes, imagining that Parker was Butch for a moment. But I didn’t matter how hard I tried; he wasn’t Butch. He didn’t feel the same as Butch. His kisses weren’t the same as Butch’s. His skin felt different. His scent was different.

  Everything was different.

  I opened my eyes and looked down at Parker, slowly sliding myself out of him. I pulled the condom off and tied it before dropping it to the carpet next to me. Parker grabbed the whiskey from the table and swallowed a mouthful before handing me the bottle. I took it and drank a mouthful.

  “Women get it easy,” he said as he mopped up his own cum from his stomach with his T-shirt.

  I flopped down next to him, the bottle still in my grip. I snorted out a laugh as I flung an arm over my eyes. “That shit was fucked up,” I finally said.

  “Yeah, it was,” he agreed solemnly. “Can’t say I didn’t like it, though.”

  I smirked and moved my arm so I could look at him. He was looking away from me, so all I could see were his muscular shoulders and back. His skin was clean of tattoos and scars unlike Butch’s, but I liked it like that. I reached over and dragged him down next to me. I was tired. Really fucking tired. The kind of tired that comes from thinking and hurting too much and then trying to fuck away the pain.

  “Can’t say I didn’t, either,” I replied, closing my eyes. “Now shut the fuck up so I can sleep.”

  “What does this mean?” he asked.

  I groaned in response and he continued.

  “I’m serious. That was fucked up, but it was good. But…” He paused.

  I opened my eyes. “But what?”

  “But I fucking hate you, Dom,” he said seriously.

  I thought about that for a minute before replying. “That’s good, because I fucking hate you too, Parker.”

  “So what just happened?” Parker asked, frustration tainting his voice.

  “We fucked each other to escape the pain for a few blissful fucking moments.” I thought about that, feeling the dull ache of loss slowly working its way back into me. “Worked for a little while, too.”

  “Yeah,” Parker agreed, frowning.

  We both fell into silence, leaving our unspoken thoughts hanging heavily between us. I was almost asleep when he spoke again.

  “Dom?”

  “What?”

  “Can we do it again?”

  “Now? I’m gonna need to sober up a little before I can do that again, if I’m being honest. The world’s fucking swaying right now.”

  Parker laughed and pushed up on an elbow. “I meant like at some point…in the future. Maybe this don’t have to be a one-time thing. Maybe we can fuck the pain away some more.”

  I opened one eye and looked at him, seeing someone other than the cop or the man that had taken Butch from me. Someone that Butch had run to the night he’d died. And I realized that maybe I didn’t hate him that much after all. Because if Butch could care about him, then maybe so could I.

  “Yeah, that sounds okay,” I agreed. “But don’t be falling for me and shit. I’m pretty irresistible, you know.”

  I heard Parker chuckle again right before I passed out.

  Chapter Thirty-nine:

  Casa

  “Baby, just stick your finger in, just a little bit,” I begged.

  I was bent over on all fours and Harlow was behind me in her sexiest fucking underwear—white, lacy, and very very tiny: just like I liked it. I’d lubed up my asshole when she’d gone to the bathroom, and was now trying to convince her to stick a finger inside of me. Been curious ever since Rider had told me about the ass play he and Charlie had done. I won’t lie, I wasn’t afraid to experiment, and from the couple of videos I’d watched online, that shit was good.

  “Casa, come on,” she whined.

  I flipped over onto my front and lay back down, my arms behind my head. “Is it me? Do you not like my asshole?” I asked with a smirk. “Is it an ugly asshole? I mean, I’ve never seen it, so it could be.”

  She burst into laughter. Like music to my motherfucking ears.

  “You have a very nice asshole, Casa, but I have no interest in sticking my finger up it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her tits up higher, and my cock twitched in response. “Can we not just fuck already?”

  I sat up and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her down onto the bed, my hands roaming over her body, squeezing her breasts and cupping her ass as I rolled her over onto her back.

  “That what you want, girl?” I asked, sliding her panties down her thighs. “You want to fuck?”

  She nodded, groaning as I pressed the pad of my thumb against her clit and made a small circular movement.

  “Right here?”

  “Uh huh,” she said with a heavy breath.

  I slipped two fingers inside of her, feeling her muscles clench around me and watching as her mouth opened up. Really wanted to stick my cock in that pretty mouth of hers. Girl gave the best fucking blowjobs. But at the moment I needed to fuck my woman and make her cum so loud my brothers came running in ’cause they thought I was killing her or some shit.

  Her chest was heaving, her tits bouncing as I slid my fingers in and out quicker, my thumb still pressing against her clit. I pulled out my fingers and pressed the tip of my cock against her entrance before slowing pushing inside of her. Fuck me, my girl was tight.

  Her hands flew to my shoulders as I leaned over her, pressing my cock all the way in until my balls hit her asshole. She still hadn’t let me take that, but it was only a matter of time. Couldn’t wait to fuck that puckered hole of hers.

  “Casa,” she called my name, her muscles clenching as I rocked back and forth, rolling my hips to hit the spot I knew she loved. “Casa!” she screamed out my name and I swallowed her words as I pressed my mouth to hers, thrusting my cock inside, fucking her mouth as I fucked her pussy.

  My stomach tightened, ready to blow as I ground against her, the headboard slamming against the wall. One of her hands shot up to hold onto the headboard as she dragged her mouth from mine to cry out my name again and as my cock surged, cum exploding from it, Harlow reached around and shoved her finger right up my ass.

  “Fuck!” I called out as my orgasm slammed into me harder than it ever had before. I went dizzy, pressing my cock harder into her—so hard I should have come out of that pretty fucking mouth of hers. �
�Fuck me, H!” I roared as the orgasm hit an entirely new level.

  The door to our bedroom at the clubhouse flew open and Gauge and Shooter ran in, guns raised, the angry scowls on their faces turning to amusement as they took in the image of me fucking my woman so hard there was a dent in the wall, and her with a fucking finger up my ass.

  I blinked past the stars that had exploded in my eyes. “Ass play, brothers. It’s the motherfucking future.” I smirked.

  “I don’t need to be seeing that shit,” Shooter groaned, and put his gun away before leaving.

  Gauge stood watching and I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “What? I don’t mind seeing this shit,” he said with a shrug.

  “Get out of here!” Harlow screamed on a laugh. She grabbed the cushion next to her and threw it at him and he quickly retreated.

  She pulled her finger out of my ass and I lay down next to her.

  “You okay, baby?” she asked, her hand trailing lazy circles on my chest.

  “Fuck yeah, girl. I’m better than okay.” I caught her hand in mine and brought it to my mouth before kissing her knuckles.

  “Me too.”

  “Harlow?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Next time, can we try two fingers?”

  Harlow started to laugh, her tits jiggling and shit. I reached over and grabbed one of them, dragging the lacy material down from her nipple so I could suck it into my mouth. It was already hard, just the way I liked it, and I cupped her whole breast and sucked harder.

  “Casa?”

  “Mm-hmm?”

  “You think it will always be like this?”

  I stopped sucking on her nipple and looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Will it always be this good?” she asked hesitantly.

  I looked at her with a cocky smirk. “Nah, girl, it’ll be better.”

  “You really think?” she frowned. “I never believed in happily ever afters before.”

  “Me neither,” I replied. “Not sure there is such a thing, but we’re good together. Kinda fucking love knowing that you’re mine. Never thought having an old lady would be this good.”

  She grinned in response and I continued.

  “Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes it’s gonna be real shit, no doubt. But the good times will always outweigh the bad, and the bad will always be easy to forget because the good will be so motherfucking good, you hear me?”

  “I hear you, Casa,” she said softly.

  I realized as I spoke that I meant every word of it. It wasn’t just some shit I was saying to make her feel better. I meant it all, from the depths of my soul. Fuck me she’d changed me somehow. From the inside out.

  “Harlow?”

  “Yeah?” she said with a soft smile, making my heart swell and my dick twitch.

  Beautiful, she was fucking beautiful. Couldn’t imagine ever not wanting her to be there with me. I wanted us, her, a future. I wanted fucking kids and a dog and a white picket fence. I wanted it all.

  “Will you marry me?” I asked. And it was the most serious thing I had ever said to someone.

  She blinked, stunned by my question, her eyes filling with tears as she nodded. I smiled and leaned up, taking her mouth with mine, controlling it as I kissed her hard. I pushed her legs apart, placing myself between them, and guided myself into her body again.

  Fuck yeah, I finally believed in happily ever afters.

  Without a doubt they were real, and I had found mine right there with Harlow.

  Ride or Die Series #3

  A Devil’s Highwaymen MC novel

  By

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Claire C. Riley writing as:

  Cee Cee Riley

  Coming 2018

  Read on for a sneak peak!

  Ride or Die #3

  A Devil’s Highwaymen MC Novel

  Prologue:

  Gauge

  “Jolie!” Dom yelled as he stormed across the room, his furious gaze falling on his sister, who stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip like she owned the place.

  I laughed darkly.

  “What the fuck have I told you about coming here?”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed, and I laughed harder. “I needed to see you. You’re not answering your cell, you’re never at home—what the hell else was I supposed to do?”

  Dom gripped her bicep and started to drag her out, and I watched as she kicked him in the shin and ducked out of his grip. Bitch knew how to fight! Impressive.

  Jolie was Dom’s little sister, not even eighteen I didn’t think, and didn’t we all know about it. She had four brothers and an older sister, from what I remembered Dom telling me, and since it was my business to know everyone’s shit, I was pretty certain I remembered correctly. This girl had either learned how to handle herself from dealing with her brothers, or she’d taken some sort of class. Because even Charlie couldn’t pull moves like that.

  “I’ll call you later,” Dom argued. “But you know you can’t just turn up here and start causing shit.”

  “You need to come to the house, tonight!” she argued back. Her big, pouty mouth was colored red with lipstick. Fucking suited her, too.

  Hadn’t seen Jolie in a long-ass time. Pretty sure she’d been about ten the last time I’d seen her, since Dom kept that part of his life completely separate from the club. That was okay, though; most men preferred it that way.

  However, it was obvious to any red-blooded man that Jolie was no ten-year-old girl anymore. She was a woman, and brothers all around the room were sitting up and taking notice. Including me.

  “I can’t. I’ve got club business to deal with,” Dom snapped.

  “Then I’m staying right here until you talk to me.” Jolie sat down, her arms folded over her ample chest.

  Sketch and Crank were sitting on the same sofa and both of them laughed. Crank smiled at her, ignoring the rage-filled look on Dom’s face.

  “Hi,” she cooed at Crank, almost certainly to piss Dom off more.

  “Hey, baby,” he replied, ignoring Dom’s rage-filled glare.

  Dom’s mother was French and his father American, and it looked like the mix of bloodlines had been good for the Durrand family, because Jolie was smokin’ hot now. Tight body, smooth-as-fuck skin, and a mane of long, dark hair that trailed down her back.

  I rearranged my junk and looked away from her. Because that shit wasn’t right. She was young, much too young, but worse, she was a brother’s kid sister.

  “Gauge,” Shooter called from the doorway of the Chapel, “get her out of here for me before I kill her!”

  Fuck!

  I looked back, watching her narrowed gaze fall on me as I stood up.

  “Don’t you touch me,” she snapped.

  “Orders are orders,” I replied stalking towards her.

  Instead of making a run for it or backing down, Jolie stood up, making sure she was toe to toe with me. Woman was headstrong, but not too smart if she thought she could fight me and win. Heard a couple of people laughing in the background, and I was pretty sure Dom was still talking and telling her to get out of there. But all I saw in that moment were her eyes. Eyes like fire. Deep brown with flecks of amber shooting through them. Goddamn, but she was beautiful. Way too young and too good for me. Bitch probably wasn’t even legal, and I was way too old to be dealing with her shit.

  “Don’t you touch me,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

  Yeah, she was way too young and way too much trouble.

  Still…

  I grabbed her around the waist and threw her over my shoulder in one swift move that made her scream and shout and start to kick and punch at my body. None of it hurt, though, even though it should have. In fact, every time she kicked and screamed, punched and yelled, all I felt was the tightening of my jeans as my cock grew harder.

  She was off limits, though…

  Way off limits…

  Coming early 2018!

  Thank you:

&n
bsp; Thank you to my amazing friends who help put this together, who constantly support me and basically give me a kick up the arse when I need it. You ladies rock and you know it.

  A huge thanks to my editor, and friend, Amy Jackson. You’ve been with me since the start, and I’m so grateful for all you do. Thanks also goes to Elizabeth Constantopoulos for your amazing design work on my covers and teasers, but mainly for being my friend and my rock through everything. I genuinely couldn’t do this without you. You’re with me through the light and the dark, and I respect you so much, not just as my friend, but as an artist in every sense of the word.

  And finally, Kelli Fisk Mcelreath. I love you girl. What in the world would I do without you? Thank you so much for always being on hand to discuss biker life, plot lines, and general crap. This wouldn’t have been possible without you, love, so truly-thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Thanks also goes to this amazing community of writers, readers, and bloggers. We’re each a cog in this machine, and it’s so important that we all play our part to succeed. And you guys play your parts so damn well. I hope I play my part well too.

  Finally, I would be so grateful if you could find the time to write me a review for this book on either Goodreads, Amazon, or your blog. They really help so so much.

  Big love,

  Claire / Cee Cee xox

  About the author: