WHEELIE (Southside Skulls MC Romance Book 9)

by Jessie Cooke

  “You see it, Boss?” Hawk asked. Dax looked at the license again, at the street address in Dorchester. He knew that address too. The name and the address...

  “Oh my fucking God!”

  Hawk for once didn’t have that smug or sarcastic look he usually carried on his face. He actually looked genuinely afraid. “This is Bartholomew Kent III’s kid.”

  This couldn’t have been any worse, unless President Trump’s daughter had been visiting. Bartholomew Kent III was the Southside’s newest District Attorney elect. He had won the election on a platform of being tough on crime. Most specifically, getting rid of the gangs on the Southside, all of them, even the ones that rode Harleys and gave a big percentage of their profits back to the community. Bart Kent made a campaign commercial calling them out, and telling them this community didn’t want their “blood money.”

  “Dax?” He heard Wheelie’s voice behind him. His temper was at the breaking point and the sound of that whine in a grown-ass man’s voice was what pushed him over the edge...at least that’s what he told himself. He spun around and let his fist catch the underside of Wheelie’s jaw. The other man was thrown backwards about two feet before he hit the floor. There was complete silence in the room. Dax stared at Wheelie for a few seconds as he rubbed his knuckles and then he said:

  “Nobody touches any fucking thing else. Get him out of here and the rest of you get out. Church in fifteen minutes.”

  “Boss, what are we going to do?” Hawk was the only one stupid enough to ask Dax anything while he was that pissed. Dax shot flames out of his eyes as he looked at the old man and said:

  “We might as well drink the fucking poison Kool-Aid before the cavalry gets here. You and Wheelie go first.” He could hear Hawk laughing as he left the room. He wished he were kidding.

  2

  Wes “Wheelie” Anderson sat in Dax’s office, alone. He was trying hard to get his thoughts and emotions in check before Dax came back. He’d ordered him to take a long, hot shower and then report to the office. Wheelie didn’t know what Dax was doing, but he hoped it took him a while. He’d tried to get himself pulled together in the shower, but how the fuck was he supposed to do that? How does a person who just woke up in a pool of blood after a late night partying session...and then find a beautiful woman naked and dead in the tub...pull himself together? He’d gotten out of the shower twice to puke and he was feeling nauseated again now, just thinking about it. He didn’t know what happened, but he did know that he didn’t kill that woman. He’d never killed anyone. He’d never even considered it. No, that wasn’t true. When he first started hanging around with the Skulls, he wondered about it. He wondered how you lived with it...afterwards…and if he was ever ordered to do it, if he could. By the time he decided he wanted to be a prospect, he’d decided that he was sure he could do it...for Dax. Dax Marshall was the president of one of the busiest motorcycle clubs on the east coast. Wes had heard all the rumors about him and the things he had “allegedly” done over the years. But what he discovered about him was just the opposite of his reputation. Dax was kind, and generous and he had a presence about him that made a person want to please him and make him proud.

  Wes had been a major fuck-up for a long time after Dax agreed to let him become a prospect. Dax finally called him in after a year and told him that was it, he was cutting him loose. Wes had never felt so disappointed about anything in his life...especially by the disappointment he saw in Dax’s eyes. He’d promised him that if he let him stay, he’d clean up his act, follow every order Dax set forth, and never do anything to disappoint him again. Dax made him sweat for almost a week before he agreed to give him a second chance. He made him a prospect for another entire year, which was almost unheard of, but ultimately, he’d been patched in and it had been the proudest day of his life.

  Now, here he sat, waiting for Dax to come in and not only kick his pathetic ass out of the club, but probably turn him over to the police as well. That normally wouldn’t be a concern. Even though Dax was married to an ex-police detective whose family members were involved in law enforcement, he still honored the old-school MC ways...you don’t invite a cop into your house, unless of course she looked like Angel. But this was too fucking messed up. Pamela was the daughter of the fucking district attorney of Suffolk County. They couldn’t just dump her body somewhere...or hide it? Could they? Another wave of nausea attacked him when he had that thought. She was young, and beautiful and someone that he would have probably liked a lot, had he gotten to know her. Yet here he was thinking about dumping her body like it was trash, to save his own ass. What kind of sick fuck was he turning into?

  He leaned forward in the chair and put his hands in his hair. He pulled at the roots, trying to drag a memory out of there. He was about to get worked up again and the last thing he wanted was to have another fucking anxiety attack. He concentrated on his breathing and closed his eyes. He decided to start small...at the beginning....

  He was standing out in front of the shop, sharing a joint with Buzz. Gunner had checked in the car they brought back from the city and they were off for the night. “Hey,” Buzz said, all of a sudden. “I’ve been talking to this girl and her best friend’s having this big party tonight. We should go.”

  “Hell, yeah. Where’s the party?” Wes had worked his ass off that week and he was ready for some R & R.

  “Dorchester,” Buzz said.

  Fucking Buzz. He was always pushing the limits. Dax already didn’t like him much and Hurricane Katrina, who spent a lot of time around the club and was one of Dax’s best friends, had kicked his ass and sent him home naked one night for trying to push the limits with her. Most of the guys tolerated him, because he was patched. He was their brother. But he almost went out of his way to make people not like him. Wes was one of the only brothers that chose to spend time with him away from work or mandatory club events. It wasn’t because he liked him much more than anyone else did...it was because he reminded Wes of his real brother. Wes hadn’t seen his brother Christopher in three years, by choice, but strangely he’d picked someone almost exactly like him to be his friend.

  “We’re not supposed to go to Dorchester.”

  Buzz rolled his eyes. “Such a goody-two-shoes.”

  “Fuck that, what I am is a patched member of this club, finally. I don’t want to get my ass kicked out for not following Dax’s orders. You know we’re not supposed to be anywhere near Dorchester until that meeting happens with the Blades...”

  “Look, little Suzy, follow the rules...Dax said we’re not supposed to pick up any cars around Dorchester or drink in any bars or clubs where we might run into these assholes. We won’t even actually be in Dorchester. This house is out in the country. It sits way off by itself. This chick is loaded...or at least her parents are. The fucking Blades wouldn’t be stupid enough to be seen in that neighborhood.”

  “But we would?”

  Buzz laughed. “We were invited. At least, I was. I’m going. You want to stay here and see if you can fit your head any further up Dax’s ass, you go right ahead.” That taunt had been meant to manipulate and Wes had fallen for it. He didn’t want Buzz or any of the guys thinking he was a pussy. He convinced himself it would be okay. It was just a party. They’d go, have a good time, maybe get the chance to fuck a hot babe, and Dax wouldn’t be the wiser. But fuck it all, if it hadn’t gone worse than even Stephen King could have imagined it would.

  He sighed and once again pulled at his hair. When he was a kid he did that when he was anxious. His mother couldn’t get him to stop so she took him to the barber and had it cut so short that he couldn’t get his fingers through it. Once he got out of the house, he let it grow long...just to spite her. He laughed now as he thought about how much he was hurting her, a thousand miles away, with a handful of his own hair. Jesus, he was a fuck-up.

  Wes had felt out of place the second he stepped into the party. The house was huge, unlike anything Wes had ever been inside of. The floors were so fucking
shiny that it was like looking into a mirror. The furniture was all plush and it looked brand new. Wes couldn’t even bring himself to sit down on it. He stood up against the big, stone fireplace and drank his beer and watched the well-dressed people, and Buzz. Buzz and his girl were making out on a sofa in the corner and a few other people were doing the same thing here and there. Some people were just talking, one couple was dancing to heavy metal music, and everyone was drinking, or smoking, or both.

  “You holding up the fireplace?” Wes was startled by the voice so close to his ear. He felt the warm breath before he heard the silky seductiveness of it. His body jerked in surprise and he rounded on her without thinking. “Whoa, boy, easy!”

  He was looking down into the prettiest face he’d ever seen. She was perfect, like someone had ripped her right off the cover of a magazine. She had blonde hair with platinum highlights and it shone so bright underneath the lights that it almost gave her a halo effect. Her features were small, delicate, and feminine. Her eyes were hazel, but mostly green with a brown ring around the iris. She had long eyelashes. They were dark, probably mascara, but it was a hot contrast to her hair and light eyebrows. Her lips were huge, and Wes imagined them wrapped around his cock as soon as he looked at them. She had them painted with a dark pink gloss and he wondered if it tasted as good as it looked. “Sorry,” he finally managed to say. “You startled me.”

  She smiled. Fuck, she was hot. Her teeth weren’t quite as perfect as the rest of her. The front two overlapped just a fraction, but it was sexy as hell for some reason. “Sorry. I shouldn’t sneak up like that. The music is so damned loud, though.”

  He nodded. “Wheelie,” he said, holding out his hand.

  She laughed. “I’m going to guess you came with Buzz and your parents didn’t name you Wheelie.”

  “Yes, on both accounts. It’s Wesley...Wes Anderson. But pretty much everyone calls me Wheelie.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He shrugged, then he said, “Pretty simple, I guess. I like to do wheelies on my bike. I’m good at it too.”

  She laughed again. “Everyone has to be good at something. Me, I’m good at pissing off my father. He’d have an apoplectic fit if he knew I was having a party at his house, and there were bikers here.”

  “I won’t tell him,” Wes said with a grin.

  “The staff will, but I don’t care. Oh, I’m Sabrina by the way. My friends call me Bri.”

  “What should I call you?”

  “To be determined,” she said, with a wink. Suddenly, there was a loud crash in the kitchen. “Shit, that didn’t sound good. I’ll be back, you carry on holding that wall, eh?”

  “You got it.” He watched her walk away. She was wearing a dark green, strapless dress that fit her curvy body like a glove. Fuck, he’d love to peel that glove off her. She disappeared around the corner and he decided he needed some air, cold air, so he wasn’t holding up the wall with an obvious hard-on. He went through the crowded living room and out through the glass doors onto a patio almost as elaborate as the inside of the house. One side of the Spanish-tiled patio held an entire outdoor kitchen. The other had outdoor furniture that was nicer than what Wheelie had in his apartment. Next to that was a square, ceramic fire pit. He sat down on a plush swing next to the fire pit and lit a smoke. He leaned back and took a deep drag off the cigarette and as he let it out, a girl...a young woman, really…appeared out of the darkness from somewhere in the expansive yard.

  “Hey,” she said and smiled. She looked like the other girl, Bri, only younger and not quite as pretty.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “You got another smoke?”

  He nodded and pulled one out of his pocket. She sat down next to him and he lit it for her. She smelled good and since he was almost positive the super-hot one was out of his league, he started sizing this one up. She had blonde hair too, a little longer than Bri’s. It touched her shoulders, which were bare. She was wearing a black mini-dress and there really wasn’t much more material to it than the bandanna he wore to cover his head. Her breasts weren’t big, but they swelled up nicely over the top of that tiny dress. Her hips were wide and her thighs thick, just the way Wes liked them. His cock concurred that this one would do nicely. “What’s your name?”

  “Pamela,” she said.

  “You related to Sabrina?”

  She rolled her green eyes. “Yeah, but don’t tell her I’m here, okay? She told me to stay away.”

  He chuckled. “Okay...mind if I ask why?”

  “Because she thinks I’m ten years old. She does whatever she wants, whenever she wants, but I’m supposed to be the good girl. Hypocrite, that’s what she is. Sorry, it’s a sore spot. You have any siblings?”

  He nodded. “One, a brother.”

  “Younger, older?”

  “Older.”

  “Then you know what I mean, right? They never seem to realize you’re an adult.”

  Wes smiled. His situation with his brother wasn’t quite like that, but he nodded anyway and said, “You look like an adult to me.”

  She smiled from ear to ear and said, “Why, thank you...what’s your name?”

  “They call me Wheelie.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Wheelie.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Pamela.” They sat and finished their smoke and then Wheelie went in to get them both a beer. He saw Bri in a corner, cozied up with some rich dude. He was sure that she’d already forgotten him. He got the beer and went back out on the patio. Pamela seemed like a sure thing and he was horny as hell.

  “Thanks,” she said, brushing her fingers against his as she did. She touched him a lot as they were talking, moving closer to him on the swing until their thighs were touching. Before he knew it, he had his arms around her hot body and they were making out. She was practically in his lap when the door slid open behind them. Neither of them looked up; they didn’t even pause in their kissing and groping until the shrill sound of a woman’s voice pierced the quiet night.

  “Pam! What the fuck are you doing here? You! Get your fucking dirty hands off my sister.” Wheelie let go of Pam, but she didn’t move away from him.

  “This is my home too. I’m twenty-one years old, Bri, I’m not a fucking little girl so stop treating me like I am.”

  “You have midterms this week. You should be at school, studying...”

  “Who are you to tell me what I should be doing? You pretend to be a professional, fuck your way through the chain of command, and still take money from Daddy even though you can’t stand him. You’re basically a whore...” Wes was startled by Bri again, this time when she pulled her hand back and slapped her sister dead across the face. “You bitch!” Pam screamed out, jumping to her feet. Wheelie’s horniness was gone in an instant and he didn’t want to be in the middle of a catfight. He left them there, yelling at each other, went back inside, and convinced an annoyed Buzz that it was time to go. They were on their bikes twenty minutes later when Pamela appeared from around the side of the house. “Wheelie, take me with you, please?”

  Wes looked at Buzz. Buzz was looking at her like he was hungry. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea, Pamela.”

  Buzz licked his lips and moved forward on his bike. “Climb on with me, baby. I’ve got plenty of room over here for that luscious ass.”

  Pam made a face and looked back at Wes. “Please take me with...you.”

  Wheelie sighed and nodded. Before she climbed on the back, Buzz took off and Wes didn’t see him again that night. But by the time he made the hour-long drive to the clubhouse with Pamela pressed into his back, he wasn’t thinking about Buzz anyway. He didn’t want to take her to his apartment, just in case her pissed-off sister followed them. She wouldn’t be able to get on the ranch without one of the guys or an invitation. Wes wanted to fuck this girl, uninterrupted, and he’d done that...before he woke up bathed in her blood. That, he remembered too...

  3

  They’d barely crossed the threshold
of the upstairs room before he put his hands over her breasts, and his lips on her long, sexy neck. She leaned back into the door and tipped her head back, at the same time pressing her chest deeper into his hands. He massaged them through the dress for a while, kissing and sucking the bare flesh of her shoulders before finally reaching under the dress and getting his hands on the little black lace thong she was wearing. He ripped it off and she squealed, but she didn’t complain. Instead, she arched her back further and wiggled against his hard cock. He ran the hand that was under her dress up between her thighs. She was soaked and ready for him. The ride on the bike must have made her as hot as it had him. He worked the dress up around her waist and then, with the other hand, worked the top down over her breasts. She was naked, except for the dress that was now around her waist like a belt. His hands were all over her then, touching, squeezing, pinching, and massaging. She was so fucking responsive, rocking into him and moaning when he touched her nipples or pussy.

  She groaned loudly when he finally slid his fingers up inside of her soaked pussy. Her hips moved in time with the two fingers that slid in and out of her while his thumb massaged her swollen clit. They were slamming against the door, but he didn’t care. It was rare to walk down the hallway of the clubhouse at night and not hear sex noises. That would just keep anyone uninvited out. She was whimpering, and her head dropped against his shoulder as he moved his fingers faster and fucked her harder. He could tell she was getting close, so he banged her relentlessly and repeatedly until her fingers dug into the flesh of his biceps and her body tightened. She cried out his name as the orgasm washed over her and then almost instantly her body went limp and Wes had to hold onto her by her round ass. He wasn’t complaining.

  He finally kissed her lips as he walked her over to the bed. She licked and sucked at his lips and tongue like she couldn’t get enough. Fuck, she was hot. When they got to the bed, he dropped her down onto it and while he got undressed, she worked her dress down over her thighs and kicked it off. When that was done she sat up and grabbed Wes’s hard cock, wrapping it up in her warm hand. He moaned as she leaned in and licked across the tip of it, pressing her tongue down flat against it.