CHAPTER EIGHT
RIDE ON
~Rex~
“You want to do what?” I ask Shooter.
“Let’s all go to Disney World for the honeymoon.” He is completely serious, and I think he may be insane.
“Have you lost your fuckin’ mind? You just married the woman of your dreams, and you want to go to Disney World! Asshole, take your woman to an island and fuck her until she doesn’t know her name. That’s why women take their man’s name—if you fuck ‘em right, they can’t remember.”
I laugh at him. “Shut the hell up, Rex.”
“Seriously, take Tessie some place nice, just the two of you. I’ll take Axel and Gigi home and handle them until you return.”
“Man, haven’t you heard the saying ‘happy wifey, happy lifey’? Wifey wants to take her son to Disney. She wants your ass there so neither of you miss his first trip to the land of magic. Bottom line, Tessie doesn’t ask me for much. She wants this; she gets this. So we’re gonna suck it up and go.”
“Think of the pictures, Rex. You and Shooter in your Hellion cuts and mouse ears!” Tessie laughs from behind him.
“No fuckin’ way. I’ll go on this little adventure if this is what you really want, but no way, no how am I wearing some damn mouse ears.” I put my hands on my hips, trying to look firm in my resolve.
“We’ll see about that.” Tessie smirks at me.
“You really want me to go on your honeymoon? I think there is something seriously wrong with our family dynamic,” I question honestly.
“I want to do something that includes Axel. I don’t want him to think he’s losing me. If Shooter and I go off on a honeymoon, then he loses me on only day two for how many days? I was a mom before I became his wife, and Axel has enough change right now.”
“Woman, you aren’t mine, never were met to be, but damn you are the best mom for our kid. Thank you, Tessie, seriously.”
My ex-lover blushes at me. There was a time when making her blush was the highlight of my lonely days. The life I lead is not one made for a family. Never really thought about a future and having someone by my side until Tessie was attacked. Then, finding out about Axel… Well, it rocked my world at first. Now, I can’t imagine life without the little hell raiser.
I have two weeks free before Tripp has me going away for a negotiation. I guess the first week will be spent with mouse ears. Maybe I can find a princess to fuck my time away with. I would rather be balls deep in ‘Lux,’ but she has to get back to work. It doesn’t help that she refuses to give me the time of day. She only challenges me to want her more. Fight it, baby. I am not afraid of working for my rewards. In the meantime, a man has needs, ones I need filled.
Having her here for the wedding was the first break she has taken in the last few months. According to her, she has taken on two new clients, trying to move her way up to a head accounting position so she doesn’t have to continue to be an assistant. Yeah, an assistant to the asshole causing her trouble, but she left that part out. Her naivety is going to get her in a bad situation. The douche she works for is not going to back off just because she gets a different position. No, that sick fucker will only start imagining more compromising positions he plans to have her in.
The thing she needs to learn about the Hellions is that you can’t ask us for help in a moment of panic and then turn us away. We protect what is ours. Like a dog with a bone, we don’t let go. Tripp and I know too much now. She needs me more than she realizes, but she keeps refusing my help. I wish she would understand my lifestyle, my club and my family. She needs to learn that, with the Hellions, we are along for the ride, no matter how dangerous, bumpy, or long.
My dick twitches thinking of her. The ride with her may just be the challenge of my life. The ride for her may just be exactly what I need.
Things are a little clearer for me now. Change doesn’t happen overnight, but it does happen. I will take this week with my son; however, when I get home, things are changing for me and for her situation. She once asked me if my intentions in helping her were innocent.
Lux, there is nothing innocent about the ride I plan to take you on.
~The End~
Until the next ride…
Innocent Ride, The Hellions Ride 4 Now Available
Desert Ghosts MC used with permission from author Theresa Marguerite Hewitt, Ricochet, book 1 of the Desert Ghosts MC series coming soon.
Savage Outlaws MC used with permission from author Emily Minton. Beautiful Outlaw, book 1 of the Savage Outlaw MC series is available now!!!
Note From The Author
Thank you for taking a ride with the Hellions MC in Eternal Ride! For those of you who have NOT read the Hellions Ride Series, I bet you’re pretty confused right about now. The thing is, this is a short story that is meant to be read after Merciless Ride. If you liked the characters in this short story, and would like to learn more about them, please feel free to check out the Hellions Ride Series.
The Hellions Ride Series reading order is One Ride, Forever Ride, Merciless Ride, Eternal Ride, and coming next Innocent Ride. Merciless Ride can be read as a stand-alone novel, however, the characters are first introduced in One Ride and reading it will build up your suspense level a little more should you choose to read them in order.
Others who have read the Hellions Ride Series might be wondering, “When’s the next book?” Innocent Ride, featuring Drexel ‘Rex’ Crews, is now available so pick up your copy today and take a ride with Rex and Lux.
I hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please consider leaving a review at your favorite online retailers, such as Amazon and Barnes & Noble, or review websites such as Goodreads. These are great ways to help spread the word about books to readers who have yet to discover them. There are excerpts from my friends’ books, so make sure you keep turning those pages! Happy reading!
About the Author
Chelsea Camaron was born and raised in Coastal North Carolina. She currently resides in Southern Louisiana with her husband and two children but her heart is always Carolina day dreaming.
Chelsea always wanted to be a writer, but like most of us, let fear of the unknown grab a hold of her dream; she realized that if she was going to tell her daughter to go for her dreams that it was time to follow her own advice.
Chelsea grew up turning wrenches alongside her father, and from that grew her love for old muscle cars and Harley Davidson motorcycles, which just so happened to inspired her ‘Love and Repair’ and ‘The Hellions Ride’ series.
When she is not spending her days writing you can find her playing with her kids, attending car shows, going on motorcycle rides on the back of her husband’s Harley, snuggling down with her new favorite book or watching any movie that Vin Diesel might happen to be in. She hates being serious and is still a big kid at heart. She is a small town country girl enjoying life. The sky is the limit, reach for the stars.
For more information on Chelsea and her books check out her website:
http://www.authorchelseacamaron.com
Or you can send Chelsea Camaron an email at:
[email protected]
Ice
By
Chelsea Camaron & Jessie Lane
Copyright ©2014 Chelsea Camaron & Jessie Lane
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.
*Loosely attached to Chelsea Camaron's Hellions Series and Jessie Lane's Ex Ops Series.*
She's an investment banker.
He's an outlaw biker.
A little bit of heaven is about to meet a whole lot of hell.
Morgan Powell was raised to be perfect, to set an example for her sisters to follow. Her life has been dedicated to making something of her career, so she wouldn’t know what to do with a man even if you gave her an instruction manual.
Brett 'Ice' Grady spends his days trying to keep up with
his teenage daughter, his nights consumed in Regulators’ MC business. He has no time for anything more than a casual hookup.
Two worlds collide when the dangers of his life crash into the calm of hers.
Can she go beyond her own boundaries and chip her way through to the man known to be as cold as ice?
Excerpt:
Chapter One
~Ice~
“Suck harder. Right there… Fuck yeah, that’s it.”
The half-naked platinum blonde kneeling in front of me sucks dick like a damn champ.
“Shit! Dammit, Dad!” my teenage daughter Brooke suddenly shrieks from across the living room while covering her eyes with her hands. Her voice immediately kills my hard on.
Pushing the bimbo off me, I stand to pull up my pants, wincing as I tuck my still sensitive cock away. I move forward to find my daughter, who is not supposed to be home today, and the blonde paws at me as I go to make my way past her. I would have preferred it if she’d run her mouth and taken off; instead, she’s pouting at me because we didn’t finish. I wish Brooke would have just given me five more minutes to get off, then I could have gotten rid of the broad on her knees. Tossing this barfly would be a hell of a lot easier then.
“Get out. I’m done with ya,” I dismiss her, tired of the sulking look on her face. Damn, woman, take a hint already.
With a huff, she rights her clothes, collects her things, and scurries out.
Making my way down the hall of my not so modest home, I bark a sardonic laugh when I turn the knob to my daughter’s room and find it locked.
“Open this door, young lady,” I order in what comes out as a bellow. We have danced this dance on more than one occasion.
“Sorry, I’m busy searching for the eye bleach. I can’t unlock the door right now, check back later,” my sassy mini-me replies.
“Don’t make me kick it in again. You want to go without a door again? Don’t traumatize us both. I don’t want to pass by and see you in your skivvies as much as you don’t want me to… or, worse, for Hammer to catch you.”
I am hoping like hell she listens. Last time, I took the damn door right off the frame. Later on, I wished I hadn’t, though. It ended up punishing me as much as her when I had to listen to that boy band garbage she calls music.
Within seconds, I hear her feet stomping over. There’s a click, a turn of the knob, and then my one true love in this life is glaring at me. The door may have won the first round, but this victory is mine. Having a teenager, I have learned to celebrate every win, no matter how small.
“Brooke, what the fuck have I told you about your mouth? Young ladies shouldn’t cuss! It makes you sound like a damn delinquent.”
“Yeah, Dad, real good speech you’re givin’. Father of the year material, you are.”
“Don’t you get smart with me,” I say, knowing it’s falling on deaf ears. Not that I should be surprised. My mom has always liked to rub it in my face that Brooke gets her stubbornness from me.
“Anyways”—her tone is just as sharp as before—“now that you’ve kicked the dog out, what are we doin’ for dinner?”
That’s Brooke: my sixteen-year-old daughter, my life, my world, and my eternal pain in the ass. If her mom was still alive, maybe things would be different. Maybe. Only I don’t have time to play should-a, could-a, would-a in my head, because I am too busy raising her on my own.
Erin, Brooke’s mom, was Brooke’s age when she got pregnant. We were young and dumb. Not once did we think of the consequences of our actions. Obviously, we didn’t think of protecting ourselves, or give a second thought to plans for the future. Condoms were preached to us, birth control, all that. Yet, when the time came, we went at each other like rabbits and never gave thought to all that shit people had lectured us about.
When the little stick showed a pink line, I puked and Erin cried. Her parents immediately kicked her out and never got past it. With no job, no education, and nowhere to go, she moved in with my mom and me.
My mom was determined that we would both finish high school. Stepping up to help us in every way she could, she worked two jobs to cover daycare costs, and then spent many nights up with baby Brooke so Erin and I could study or do homework. I was a senior, and Erin was only a junior in high school. It wasn’t easy, but we made it through. Having a family to support, I graduated and joined the Army right after.
Leaving Erin and a barely one-year-old Brooke behind was hard, but I was focused on having a career to support us, not only a paycheck. My mom was supportive of my young girlfriend, helping out with Brooke as I was now gone more than I was home. Selection to Special Forces was hard, training even harder, but having my green beret was everything. I developed pride in myself, pride in my country, pride for my family, and pride in joining together with my brothers to give our all to something more than just ourselves. Young? Naïve? Yes, I was. However, drive, dedication, and commitment to my team were what pushed me through the realities of my situation.
I thought life was going well for my family. I was making something of myself in the Army, somebody my wife and child could be proud of. Erin was supportive during my deployments and missions. She was always quick to show me how much she loved me. And my mom was enjoying the time she spent with both Erin and Brooke, especially while I was gone.
Then the red-cross message came in while I was on a mission in Kosovo. When on a mission, communication to and from back home is limited, to say the least. There was no direct line to reach me. My mom followed protocol and used the red-cross to send the devastating news to my command, who then allowed it to trickle down to me.
Erin was hit by a drunk driver. D-O-A, dead on arrival.
She was nineteen years old with an almost three-year-old little girl at home, and just like that, she was gone.
The woman who hit her was leaving a kid’s birthday party with her own two children in tow. According to the police report, she admitted to having a few glasses of wine at the party. The toxicology report showed a blood alcohol level double the legal limit. Doesn’t matter what any of the reports say, bottom line, she walked away with only minor injuries and her children. Meanwhile, my daughter will never get the chance to really know her mom.
It’s the epitome of a fucked-up tragedy.
Brooke will never see for herself the way Erin used to smile down at her as she fell asleep. Tuck the blankets around her little body. Sing her a lullaby. Kiss her on the forehead goodnight.
She will never hear the melodic sounds of her mother’s laughter. God, I loved Erin’s laughter. It was loud and beautiful. Anyone who heard it either stopped and stared, or laughed along with her.
Brooke had no mom to explain her body to her. That was a nightmare for me of epic proportions. What man wants his teenaged daughter to ask him what an orgasm feels like? I still shudder every time I remember that awkward conversation.
She had no mom to do her hair for her first homecoming dance, or go dress shopping with her. Instead, I sprung for her to go to a well-known hairstylist and asked my mom to help her pick out a dress. I’ve already decided, for prom this year, I will give her my cash, and she can shop with her friends. When she comes home, she will twirl around in her dress, much like she did when she was a little girl, and I will tell her she’s beautiful.
Brooke will never be able to see for herself that she is her mother’s daughter. No, my daughter misses all of this and so much more, all because of the poor choices of one individual.
My mom stepped up after Erin’s death, practically raising Brooke until I got out of the Army three years ago. That was when my mom got the news of her cancer, and I had to step up. I had always been an active part of Brooke’s life while I was home, but then it was time to tackle twenty-four-seven single parenthood.
Needless to say, Brooke and I are still adjusting, especially after Mom lost her battle with cancer not quite six months ago. It has been hard, my lifestyle making it more challenging; however, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for my b
aby girl.
Thinking about my mom and the influence she had on Brooke, I can’t help smiling. She did her best to teach Brooke, guiding her into young womanhood. She did not just instill in Brooke how to have confidence and be an independent girl, but also the basics around the house she was afraid I wouldn’t teach as a man.
“You could cook, ya know? Grams taught you to bake cookies and shit,” I remind my teen.
Brooke laughs her mother’s laugh. “Shit. If I cook, that’s what you’re gonna get for dinner.”
In my days in the Army, I had enough MREs—Meals Ready to Eat—and tasteless chow hall grub to last me a lifetime. There’s no way I want to risk a dinner that tastes that bad again.
“Steakhouse or Mexican?” I ask, turning to make my way back down the hall.
“Mexican,” she replies, running past me to grab her helmet, letting me know she wants to take the bike.
Spoiled rotten little shit. She knows I won’t deny her.
~Morgan~
Looking at my phone screen, I smile at the text in front of me.
I’m off 2nite. Movie @ ur house or mine?
Texting back, I tell my best friend I will be at her house after work with takeout. It is not often she gets a Friday night off. Working in a bank, I have every weekend off. Casey’s career path is far different than mine, though, and it is one that requires weekend time.
My day drags on as I review current investment portfolios and market changes. I have the best job ever. I get paid to spend other people’s money as an investment broker here in South Beach. My life is sun, sand, and dollar bills.
Before going to Casey’s, I stop by my condo and change clothes. The down side to my job is the stuffy suits I have to wear: reasonable, past knee-length skirts; reasonable women’s dress pants; and reasonable button up shirts. I might hate them, yet in a sad way, the dress code fits my life—reasonable.
Eternal Ride (The Hellions Ride Series) Page 4
