MUERTO: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 2)
Page 1
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
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Epilogue
MUERTO
A NIGHT REBELS MC ROMANCE
CHIAH WILDER
Copyright © 2017 by Chiah Wilder
Kindle Edition
Editing by Hot Tree Editing
Cover design by Cheeky Covers
Cover model: Jimmy Thomas
Proofreading by Daryl Banner
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Please purchase only authorized additions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.
Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
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
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Epilogue
Notes from Chiah
Author’s Note
Diablo
Other Books by Chiah Wilder
Chapter One
Muerto leaned against the bar admiring the way the woman’s ass moved as she bent low to take a shot at a ball near the left pocket of the pool table. He was surprised she could even bend in her tight-as-sin jeans, and her top inched up just enough to expose a glimpse of skin.
“She’s got a nice ass,” Crow said behind him.
“She’s a looker, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” Muerto raised his beer bottle to his lips, his eyes never leaving her tight curves.
“She’s damn hot, but she doesn’t know much about the game.” Crow laughed. “She was in the other night and she lost her ass. Last night she did a little better, but she’s got a long way to go.”
“Most of the guys in here don’t play so hot, except for Willy and Gator. I’m sure the guys are playing with her just to get a peek at her tits when she bends over. Hell, I’ll play a game with her for that chance.” Muerto pushed off the counter and went behind the bar. “How was business the last couple of nights?”
“Steady,” Crow said.
Balls and Holes was the pool hall owned by the Night Rebels MC. It was a classic dark and smoky players’ hall, not one of the upscale billiard rooms with loud music and video games. It was one of the last of the old-school pool halls, refusing to be muscled out by the new chic ones that had been sprouting around the county and Durango, the large neighboring city.
The pool hall had chalk-covered floors and high-backed wooden chairs against the walls so spectators could watch the game. There were six green felt pool tables at the center of the room, and an old jukebox in the corner. The place was dark with low ceilings, and the smoke from cigarettes and weed curled around the players. No one seemed to care about the law forbidding smoking in public places; they came to play pool and watch people play as they threw back some beers. It was the gathering hole in its most basic form.
Muerto and Crow ran the place, making sure the bar was stocked and the fights didn’t get out of hand. The bar had a large selection of beer and hard liquor, and for friends and long-time customers, the brothers would pull out bottles of Jack Daniels No. 27 Gold and Gran Patrón Platinum. For the most part, pretzels, peanuts, and popcorn were the only food served.
“Is Zach working tonight?” Crow asked. Zach was the citizen bartender in the place. They’d hired him about six months back, and so far the twenty-eight-year-old was working out nicely. With his fit body, he was an asset when they needed another hand to throw out an unruly group.
“Nah. He wanted the night off. I knew you and I could handle it tonight.” Muerto placed the glasses he’d washed on a towel to dry.
“Two more Jacks and a couple of vodkas on the rocks. Boy, am I beat,” Jaime said as she rubbed her neck.
“You need some help with that?” Crow smiled.
Jaime shook her head and turned to Muerto. “You want me to wash the rest of the glasses? That’s not really man’s work.”
“Thanks, but I got it.” He placed her drink order on the tray and watched as she swayed her hips. She was one of two waitresses at the joint, and her jeans fit nicely around her body, but she was nothing like the black-haired cutie who had just lost the game.
“That’s the way it rolls, baby. Look at it this way—you’re doing better than you did the last two nights,” a stocky man in his late twenties with a crew cut said while he scooped up the bills on the side of the table.
“You got me. I’m done,” her dark, sultry voice washed over Muerto like velvet. He straightened up and gazed at her; she piqued his interest.
“Why don’t you play another game with my buddy?” another stocky man with short hair said, placing an arm around the woman’s opponent. “What do ya say, Cory?”
Cory nodded. “If you want, I’ll play another game with you. Maybe you’ll get lucky like you did earlier.”
The slender woman glanced at the wall clock. “I don’t know. How much are you betting?”
“A hundred bucks?”
She whistled. “That’s a lot
of money. What about fifty?”
Cory grinned. “You’re on.”
Muerto turned away. “I’d sure like to squeeze my hand down her jeans and see how soft her pussy is,” he said to Crow.
“I’d be right behind you, dude.” Crow picked up a box and walked out of the bar. “I’m gonna go over our inventory. If you need me, give me a holler.”
Muerto nodded and watched as Jaime approached the bar. When he’d hired her the year before, he thought she was good-looking with her shoulder-length brown hair, brown eyes, and curvy body. But he knew she was off-limits since she worked for the club. The Night Rebels never mixed pleasure with business, not even at their strip bar, Lust. He suspected she had a small crush on him, but it didn’t surprise him; most women did. The other waitress, Brandy, was always flirting with him and brushing against him whenever she had to come behind the bar. He knew he could have both of them and probably at the same time, but they were the club’s employees.
Six feet of hard muscle turned a lot of women’s heads. Add dark, thick hair, a strong jaw, full lips, and intense black eyes and women practically drooled when they saw him. And he loved the attention he got from them. Unlike most of the brothers, he enjoyed going out with citizens, relishing the drama that would ensue when a woman found out he was fucking another one. Whenever that happened, they’d turn on each other instead of him, and he loved that they fought over him; it made his blood boil. But when they got too possessive and started talking about relationships and marriage, he disappeared into the arms and pussies of the club girls who knew the score.
The only downside to angering so many citizen women was that he was constantly changing his phone number, and that pissed off his brothers big time, especially Steel. He figured it was a small price to pay for the challenge of pursuing a woman and getting her into his bed. The club girls were too easy and they were always available. There wasn’t any drama except for the usual chick stuff, but they knew they were at the club for all the brothers alike, and that’s what they wanted as well.
What he liked about being with a citizen was that she was his alone, and she was totally centered on him until he grew bored and moved on. When he’d go to the biker rallies the club had a couple of times a year in the San Juan Valley, he’d have a bevy of women glaring at him, wanting to tear him to pieces. He’d just wink at them and go his own way, scouting for another woman to conquer. There was always a good supply of enamored, willing women to seduce.
The pretty chick with the cue stick was someone he’d love to seduce. Her ebony hair swayed as she twisted her sexy body to make the shots. He’d love to yank a fistful of her long hair as he slammed his cock into her from behind.
“Muerto? Did you fill my order?” Jaime asked as she placed the tray on the bar.
“What? Sorry. I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with me.” He grabbed several beer bottles from the refrigerated shelves and popped them open. I got my mind on her. She’s so damn hot. He placed the bottles and three shots of Jack on the tray. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” She threw him a warm smile and headed over to the pool table where the woman was playing the game.
“I won,” she said as she clapped her hands gleefully.
“See, you got lucky,” Cory said as he took the beer from Jaime. “You wanna up the bet to a hundred bucks?”
Muerto jerked his chin at Army and Goldie as they walked in and placed two shots of Jack Daniels No. 27 Gold on the bar. “I thought you guys were at Lust,” Muerto said as the two brothers sat down on the barstools.
“We were, but there wasn’t anything much going on there. Tuesday nights are pretty slow.” Goldie finished his shot. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“Only the best for the brothers,” Muerto said as he poured him another one. “Fiona wasn’t dancing tonight?”
“What difference would that make? I went there to check out the women and have a few beers with the brothers.” Goldie threw back his shot.
“Fuck that. You went for Fiona. We all know you have a boner for her.” Army swung around on the barstool and whistled softly. “Talk about having a boner, check out the chick with the tight pants and luscious ass.”
Anger pricked at Muerto’s skin. “Cool it, dudes. She’s a customer.”
Army looked over his shoulder. “And why do we give a shit about that? You’ve fucked a few customers.”
“I mean she’s a regular.” Why the fuck am I saying this lame shit? “We kinda got a new policy in here where we don’t mess with the women customers.”
“When did you get that policy, ’cause you didn’t have it last week when you were fuckin’ that blonde in the storeroom.”
“Just leave it and her the hell alone.” Fire began to burn in Muerto’s veins as he scowled at Army.
Goldie laughed. “I think what he’s sayin’ is he wants to fuck her, so stay back.”
Before he could reply, Crow came out and the brothers began talking about their favorite thing—Harleys. After a couple hours of making drinks, bullshitting with the brothers, and washing what felt like his hundredth glass, loud voices pulled him away from the conversation with Goldie and Army. He looked over at the table with the hot chick and saw that a large group had formed near it.
“Watch the bar,” he said to Goldie. “I wanna see what’s going on.” He took a few steps toward the table and saw the black-haired beauty’s steely eyes as she aimed her cue stick before taking her shot. She aced the ball in the pocket, then went around the table and took another shot. Balls rolled every which way, all of them landing in the side pockets.
He quirked his lips as he watched her, admiring her grace and accuracy as she shot down the cocky bastard who, by the looks of it, bet a wad of bills on the game. When she landed the last ball, she calmly picked up the money, counted it, and tucked it in her front pocket, although he didn’t know how it fit in her skintight jeans. She’s got fuckin’ nerves of steel.
“You hustled me, bitch!” Cory yelled.
She looked at him coolly. “You’ve never lost to a woman before, have you? I won the game fair and square.”
“Bullshit.” He glanced around the area at the men perched on the high-backed chairs. “Am I right? You all saw it. This bitch conned me.”
The only ones in agreement were the player’s friends. The other men stared placidly at him.
“Take it like a man, Cory,” she said. “Next time you may be the winner and have someone accusing you. There’s always a winner and a loser in every game.” She shrugged on her leather jacket, guzzled the last of her beer, and walked away.
Cory jumped in front of her, his face bloated and red. “I want my money back, you fucking bitch.” He grabbed her arms tightly.
Ready to intervene, Muerto laughed when she kicked Cory in the shin. When he raised his hand to punch her, Muerto rushed over and grabbed it in midair. “Hitting chicks isn’t allowed.” His voice was hard and gravelly.
“Do you allow stealing? The bitch hustled me. She’s a goddamn pool shark.”
Her throaty laugh fell over Muerto, and he liked that it made his dick twitch. It occurred to him that ever since he’d spotted her rounded ass in those jeans, his dick had been on high alert.
“You must’ve spent the weekend watching old movies. ‘Pool shark,’ what a joke.” She zipped up her jacket.
“I’ve been watching you two play for the past few hours. I didn’t notice anything. You play a good game, but she played better. You shouldn’t bet what you can’t afford to lose. Better luck next time, buddy. Go to the bar and have one on me,” Muerto said.
Cory’s nostrils flared as he glanced at Muerto, then back at his friends. One of them came over and clasped his shoulder. “Let’s get another drink and then go find some food.”
Reluctantly he started to walk away. “This ain’t over yet, bitch. Let’s get outta this shithole.” He marched away, his two friends in tow.
“Some guys just can’t handle losing to a woman. Pathetic.” S
he slung her large purse over her shoulder and headed to the door.
“Not so fast, sweetheart.” Muerto cut her off and she bumped into him.
“What the hell?” She rubbed her head.
“We both know you hustled him.” He held up his hand. “Don’t fuckin’ deny it. You’re good. I didn’t even see you slip your own cue ball in the game or out of it, but I bet if I dig in that purse of yours I’d find it.”
She glowered at him.
“Even though you can wear a pair of jeans better than any woman I’ve seen, I don’t want you back in here hustling. If you didn’t have tits and curves, my fists would already be beating your ass.”
She raised her chin defiantly. “You can’t prove shit.”
He laughed. “You better wait a while and have a beer. Pretty sure they’re waiting for you outside. I’ll walk you to your car when I get done sorting out the receipts. The beer’s on me.”
“I don’t need you to play the fuckin’ white knight. I can take care of myself.” Her gaze went to the glass doors.
“Suit yourself.” He spun around and walked to the bar. When she slinked onto one of the barstools, a smile tugged at his lips. “What kind of beer do you want?”
“Give me a shot of tequila with a twist of lime.” She placed her shoulder bag on the stool next to her.
“A tequila girl. You’re full of surprises, sweetheart.”
“What the fuck does that mean? And stop calling me ‘sweetheart.’ I’m no man’s sweetheart.” She propped her elbows on the counter and rested her chin in her hands.
“I believe that. Here you go.” He placed the shot in front of her. “Let me tell you something, sweetheart. You’re a shark in a sea of fish, but you keep it up and someone’s gonna run a knife right through you. Alina’s a small town, and you’re playing in dangerous waters.” Her flashing eyes shot daggers at him. He chuckled and held his hands up. “Just sayin’, that’s all.”
“I thought the customer was supposed to ask the bartender for advice.” She drank her shot. “Save your sage wisdom for someone who wants it.” She twirled around on the stool, her back facing him.
“You want another?” He poured her one before she answered. “You from around here?”