Bull (Dixie Reapers MC 4)
Harley Wylde
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Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde
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Editor: Crystal Esau
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
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Table of Contents
Bull (Dixie Reapers MC 4)
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Harley Wylde
Bull (Dixie Reapers MC 4)
Harley Wylde
Darian: When the guy I’d been seeing turned out to be a rapist sleazeball, I ran… and it led me straight to him. They call him Bull, and I can see why. The guy is massive, and I do mean everywhere. He’s so much older than me, but I can’t seem to care. The way he holds me, murmurs softly to me, I feel safe. No one’s ever cared what happened to me, but he does. I can tell he wants me, even though he’s fighting himself. But he doesn’t have to… because I’m his. I’ve held onto my virginity all these years, but I want him more than I ever thought I’d want someone. I want his hands on me, his body over mine. And for once, I’m going to get what I want. And I want Bull.
Bull: Darian’s younger than my damn daughter, but there’s something about the sweet girl that draws me closer. When I look into her eyes, I see that she’s a fighter, but I can also see that she’s been badly broken, and I want to be the one to put the pieces back together. I have nothing to offer her. There’s more than twenty years between us, and I know I need to walk away. I’m just a dirty old man who wants her under me. I’m hard as a damn post anytime she’s nearby, and I have to fight the urge to spread those creamy thighs of hers and drive into her, claiming her body and making her mine… until I have no fight left in me. I wanted to be a better man, to walk away, but I can’t. She begs me so sweetly, and soon I can’t resist anymore. She’s mine. And any fucker who tries to take her from me is going to die a slow and painful death.
Prologue
Bull
I downed a shot of whiskey, the amber liquid burning through me. My brothers were cutting up and having a good ol’ time while I suffered in silence. Maybe I was getting too old for this shit, but something felt like it was missing these days. My VP had claimed my daughter as his old lady, and I was now a grandpa twice over. Hell, even Torch’s old lady had returned, and she’d made him a daddy.
I’d never once thought about taking an old lady, always content with the club pussy. Hell, there were nights I had three or four women. Of course, the older I got, the harder it was to go all damn night like I used to. Or maybe the easy women with their painted lips and fake bodies just didn’t do it for me anymore. Forty-nine wasn’t exactly over the hill, but I was feeling every one of those years tonight.
I wanted something different. I wanted… a woman. My woman. Someone who was just mine and not spreading her legs for anyone who crooked a finger. I wanted an old lady to go home to at the end of the day, someone to hold at night. Maybe in my old age what I was craving was a sense of closeness, that feeling everyone describes when they meet the one person meant for them. That insane instant attraction, the feeling like you can’t breathe if they walk away.
Yeah. I wanted that.
The Prospect behind the bar placed the whiskey bottle near my hand, and I poured myself another shot. At least if I kept drinking, the next time a club slut came onto me, I could claim I had whiskey dick and couldn’t get it up. They might be whores, but they had feelings too. The last thing I wanted to do was make them feel unattractive, even if they just didn’t do a damn thing for me these days.
Hell, I hadn’t gotten laid in months. Not for lack of the women trying, but I just wasn’t interested anymore. It got tiresome, fucking random women, sometimes being the third or fourth guy to stick my dick in them. Virgins were about as rare as a fucking unicorn, but I’d just be happy with a woman who hadn’t slept with more men than I had fingers and toes. I didn’t think that was asking too much.
I finished off half the bottle of whiskey before I pried myself off the stool and staggered out to my bike. I stared at it a moment, then realized I’d had far too much to drink. I didn’t like driving when I was drunk, so I pocketed my keys and started walking. Home wasn’t far away. When I’d become a grandpa, Torch had given me a small house so the kids could visit with me in my own space without me bringing them into the clubhouse. I was grateful, but most nights the house was damn quiet. And too fucking empty.
I stumbled up my steps and let myself in since I never locked the door. After I staggered down the hall, I pushed my way into my bedroom, kicked off my boots, and face-planted on the bed. I felt like a fucking pansy, moping because I was alone. But as I stared across the expanse of my king-size bed, I couldn’t help but wish there was a soft warm body cuddled up against me. The sweet scent of a woman wrapped in my arms.
But who the fuck would want an asshole biker like me?
Chapter One
Darian
Two Weeks Later
My lungs felt like they were on fire as my arms pumped and my legs ran as fast as they could go. The slap slap slap of my shoes hitting the pavement filled the air around me, along with the huffing of my breath. I didn’t dare take a moment to even look over my shoulder as I charged through the darkened streets. I was in Nowhere, Alabama, some small town my supposed boyfriend had brought me to, promising an awesome party. Little had I realized, I was the entertainment. Thank God I hadn’t swallowed the pills he’d given me! If I had, I might not have survived what they had planned for me.
I seemed to be on the outskirts of town, with hardly any businesses or homes surrounding me, but I could see lights and a neon sign in the distance, and I prayed that I would find help when I got there. When I’d taken off, I’d heard them running after me, the charge of their steps spurring me on. Thankfully they were too stoned or stupid to realize they’d catch me faster in their cars, and in their bumbling attempts to catch me, I’d managed to get away. Or so I hoped. They could still be there, coming for me in the darkness, waiting until I weakened.
A huge gate came into focus with what looked like a bar behind it. I’d never seen a bar behind a fence topped with barbed wire before, but I didn’t much care what the place looked like, as long as they would help me. Maybe let me make a call, even though I didn’t know who to reach out to. It wasn’t like I had an abundance of friends, and I had no family that I knew of. I collapsed when I reached the gate, my hands sliding down the bars as my knees hit the pavement. My breath sawed in and out of my lungs, and spots danced across my vision.
“What are you doing here, sweet thing?” a male voice drawled from behind the fence.
I tried to look up, but I was too damn exhausted. Whatever adrenaline rush I’d experienced, it was waning, and intense fatigue was settling into my body, making it damn near impossible to stay upright. I didn’t know how far I’d run, but it had to have been several miles or more, and for someone who wasn’t very athletic, that felt like a ton. My hands slipped from the bars, and I fell onto my back on the pavement of the driveway and stared up at the starry sky. The man cursed, and the gate opened, then booted steps came my way. The face peering down at me was obscured by the darkness, but he’d sounded young. Maybe late teens or early twenties? Old enough his voice had already changed. Whoever he was, he made no move to touch me.
I heard the roar of an engine from down the road, and soon a single headlight washed across me. I turned toward the light, straining to see whoever was there, my eyes squinting at the brightness. The headlight shut off, and I blinked a few times, trying to focus.
“What’s going on, Johnny?” a deeper voice asked, sending chills down my spine. There was something about that voice, something I liked. It was powerful, commanding.
“I don’t know, Bull. She came running up here like her life depended on it, then just fell on the ground. She won’t talk.”
I heard an engine shut off then heavy footsteps came toward me. The first thing I saw was long, blond hair, then a darker beard came into view. Piercing eyes peered down at me, with concern etched on the stranger’s face. In the dark, I couldn’t guess his age very well, could barely make out all his features, but he was close enough I caught his scent -- leather with a hint of something warm and spicy. And what kind of name was Bull?
His touch was gentle as he brushed my hair back from my face, my long locks close in color to his. With infinite care, he scooped me up into his arms and rose to his full height. The world spun a moment, and when I looked around, I realized I was really far off the ground. He was incredibly tall, definitely over six feet. I looked back up at the man holding me, wanting to speak yet not knowing what to say. I should say something. I knew that much. He was a stranger, and for all I knew, I was in more trouble than earlier. His gaze left mine to settle on the guy he’d called Johnny.
I felt bereft without him looking at me, as if something had been taken away that was rightfully mine. Maybe I was losing my mind and going crazy. The run must have scrambled my brains as well as my insides. I definitely wasn’t thinking rationally. Never in my life had I reacted to a man like I was reacting to Bull.
“Bring my bike through the gates. I’ll come back for it later,” Bull said.
So the rumbling engine had been a motorcycle. Wait. Come back for it? Where were we going? I should have panicked, but all I felt was this soothing calm. It was almost like being in his arms was enough to make me feel safe. That’s ridiculous, Darian. He’s a stranger. What if he’s a rapist or a murderer? But ridiculous or not, that was how I felt. Even though I didn’t know where I was, or who he was, I felt like I could trust him. There was this feeling deep in my gut that the man holding me would never hurt me. I’d trusted that instinct often enough over the years, and had I listened to it when Leo had asked me out, I wouldn’t be in this mess now. It had never steered me wrong before.
He didn’t say anything more, just started walking down what appeared to be a road. Had they fenced off part of the town? Why was there a road behind that massive gate? The building we passed, the one I’d assumed was a bar, said Dixie Reapers across the top in neon lights. That still didn’t tell me anything. The road he was walking on wound around the building, and soon I saw houses. There had been a row of motorcycles parked outside the bar, and I saw more in the driveways of the homes we passed. I was getting more and more confused. Why would there be a business and a bunch of houses behind a fence topped with barbed wire? Where the hell was I? Were they some kind of cult? And what was with all the bikes? Did they not believe in vehicles with more than two wheels? It almost like being on a set from that show… what was it called? Sons of Anarchy?
We passed quite a few homes before he walked up the steps of a one-story house with a wide front porch. The color looked gray, but without a porch light on, I couldn’t tell for certain. He somehow managed to open the door without dropping me, then carried me inside, kicking the door shut behind him. He didn’t bother to lock it, but I doubted anyone was getting past their guarded gate. I just didn’t know if that gate should make me feel safer or more afraid. Despite Bull’s gentle touch, I had no idea who he was or what kind of place I’d landed in.
Bull didn’t hesitate when he entered the house but strode into the living room and eased me down onto the couch. He flicked on a lamp, and as the room flooded with light, I was surprised to see that he seemed much older than my twenty-one years. There were lines at the corners of his eyes, but he was a very handsome man. As I took in the details of his face, I felt this intense pull toward him. I’d seen attractive men before. Well, mostly boys. But there was something about him, something different. The look in his eyes said he’d seen shit I couldn’t even fathom, and yet the way he watched me… it made me feel all warm and gooey inside.
He pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it onto a chair, and I felt my eyes widen as I took in his broad chest and large biceps. There was some sort of leather vest over his T-shirt, but I couldn’t read the writing. Even if the lines on his face hadn’t belied his age, there was no mistaking his body for that of a boy. He was definitely all man. The T-shirt he wore was stretched tightly across him, and my fingers itched to see if his chest was as hard as it looked. I could understand now why they called him Bull. The man was huge. My gaze dipped down below his belt, and my cheeks flushed when I saw his cock straining against his zipper. Yeah, he was big. Everywhere.
“What’s your name?” he asked, drawing my attention away from what was hidden in his jeans.
“Darian. Darian Crosse.”
“You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”
I shook my head. “I’m from Georgia. The guy I was seeing told me about this awesome party and brought me here.”
Bull’s eyebrows rose. “And where is he now?”
“Probably still looking for me.”
Bull rocked back on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets. I was too busy admiring him again to say anything more. I couldn’t say he was beautiful, but I’d never met anyone like Bull before. I felt like I could look at him all day.
“Is he the one you’re running from?” Bull asked.
“Him and the others,” I murmured, still admiring him.
His eyes narrowed. “What others?”
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes a moment. Their faces, with their leering smiles, flashed in my mind. Bile rose in my throat as I thought about the words I’d heard, their intentions toward me, and their complete lack of humanity. Fear and revulsion rolled through me, and I knew I was damn lucky to have gotten away.
I focused on him again, trying to shake free from the horror of what had nearly happened to me. “The party Leo took me to expected me to be the entertainment, even though I hadn’t known that at the time. I’d confessed to Leo a few days ago that I was a virgin and was waiting for the right guy and the right time. I thought he was understanding and might be the one. I didn’t realize he was excited about my virginity for another reason.”
“That doesn’t explain the others you mentioned. Who were t
hey?”
“Leo tried to drug me earlier, but I didn’t take the pills. When we got into town, we drove to some rundown place. I think it’s a few miles from here, but I honestly don’t know how far I ran. It was a house full of guys. Some looked younger than me and some looked older. Maybe late twenties or early thirties. When we stepped into the house, I realized quickly I was the only girl there. The guys weren’t quiet about their plans. They were going to take turns with me. All twelve of them and one said he was willing to pay Leo to be the one to take my virginity. Thankfully, it looked like they’d already been partying pretty hard, and they were either drunk, stoned, or both.”
A chill entered his eyes, and his hands clenched at his sides. Suddenly the protective man who had been so tender with me looked more like a Viking warrior about to go off to battle. With his long blond hair and beard, I could easily see him with a sword, or whatever Vikings had used in times of war.
“They were going to gang rape you?” His voice sounded calmer than he looked. Anger poured off him in waves.
My throat tightened, and I swallowed as tears filled my eyes. I hadn’t admitted to myself yet that that’s what they’d planned. Oh, I’d run the moment I’d realized what they were going to do, but then I’d pushed it to the back of my mind and not used that word. Instead, I broke it down into pieces I could stomach instead of looking at the whole picture.
Bull noticed my distress and sank down onto his haunches in front of me. Some of the anger had faded from his eyes, and the tender guy who had picked me up off the pavement was back. He reached for me slowly, brushing tears off my cheeks that I hadn’t even realized I’d shed. That was enough to make the dam break, and I started crying in earnest. Bull gathered me in his arms and sat on the couch, settling me in his lap. Cradled against his broad chest, I felt like nothing could harm me. I clung to him, my hands twisted in the fabric of his shirt as I soaked him with my tears. He didn’t seem to mind, though, murmuring words of comfort to me.
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