Ranger: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Cold Angels MC) (Bad Boy Bikers Club Book 4)

by Naomi West

  I loved it.

  My jaw loose, I took more and more of Ranger into my mouth. As I watched his cock disappear, I couldn’t help but be impressed with myself. His prick was easily the biggest I’d ever seen either in person or anywhere else, and I knew that taking the entire length was no small feat.

  Soon, nearly all of his inches were in my mouth. Once he was inside of me, I flicked my eyes up again, letting him enjoy the sight of me with a mouthful of his cock. His sexy half smile made it clear that he did.

  I thrashed his cock with my tongue as he rested in my mouth, my lips forming a tight seal. Ranger was so fucking tasty—warm and salty and just the right amount of sweet. I took his length into my mouth over and over, working his shaft as I sucked and licked his head. Before too long, the tasty flavor of pre-cum exploded on my taste buds, and I knew that he was close to release.

  But Ranger wasn’t ready to cum yet. He reached down and took me by the arm and lifted me to my feet, his cock dropping out of my mouth. Once I was standing up again, Ranger didn’t waste any time. His hand shot down the front of my panties and two fingers slipped into my pussy.

  The feeling was so intense that I worried my legs might buckle underneath me. Ranger stimulated me just right, curling his fingers and teasing my G-spot. I tried to moan but he quickly silenced me by planted a hard kiss on my lips, now kissing me passionately and aggressively.

  My pussy was so wet that I could hardly believe it. Ranger’s touch was like magic, and it didn’t take much of it before I came hard right there where I stood. I grabbed hard onto his shoulder as the orgasm crashed through me, my eyes winced shut as the pleasure ran through my body.

  As soon as the first orgasm faded, I was ready for more. And so was he.

  Ranger yanked my now-soaked panties down my legs as I undid the clasp of my bra. He gave my tits plenty of attention, licking and sucking my hard nipples and rubbing the sensitive flesh around them.

  It felt so damn good that I wanted to scream. But I knew that what Ranger had in mind next would be even better than that.

  Both of us naked, Ranger clamped his hands down on the curves of my hips and spun me around. He handled me so effortlessly that I couldn’t help but be totally turned on. I wanted him to manhandle me, to dominate me—and I couldn’t believe that I was thinking that way.

  He lifted me up off the ground and moved me over to the couch. I scrambled onto my knees, my hands on the back part of the couch and my ass pointed right towards him.

  “Goddamn,” he growled. “You’re so fucking sexy it hurts.”

  A thrill ran through my body as his words. But as nice as it was to hear him talk like that, there was something I wanted much, much more.

  Thankfully, he didn’t make me wait very long at all.

  Ranger slapped his hand down on my ass, the clap of his hand against my round rear cutting through the air. He moved closer, and I felt his head graze against my lips. Then, with a slow drive, he penetrated me.

  My hands grabbed onto the leather of the couch so hard I worried I might tear the damn thing open. Ranger penetrating me was like nothing else, and a soft shriek left my mouth as he buried all of his inches inside of me.

  Once he was buried to the hilt, I let my head fall onto the headrest of the couch, the pleasure almost too much to bear. Ranger let out a sexy little growl as he grabbed and squeezed my ass once again. Soon he was moving in and out of me slowly, his cock filling me over and over.

  He pumped at a solid, steady pace, splitting me in half exactly how I wanted. I kept my gaze fixed ahead, occasionally glancing back to watch his gorgeous body work, his tattoo-covered muscles flexing and tensing with each thrust.

  I breathed in steadily, the pleasure building in me by the moment. Before too long, Ranger’s thrusts were no longer short and quick but fast and deep, his hips slamming against my ass over and over again.

  Each thrust brought me closer to orgasm, and I could tell by the way he was breathing that Ranger was close too. And when I came, I came suddenly and intensely. The second orgasm was stronger than the first, so intense that I could barely handle it.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, my face now pressed against the back of the couch. “Don’t stop—I’m fucking cumming!”

  Ranger took that as his sign to finish too. Right at the peak of my orgasm, he unloaded inside of me, the wonderful little explosion of his prick shooting into me exactly what I wanted to make this all feel even more perfect.

  My orgasm began to face as Ranger’s pace slowed. He took his cock out of me, my juices and his dripping down my inner thigh and sending a bracing tingle up my body. I collapsed into a heap, and Ranger was quick to move next to me on the couch.

  He wrapped his arm around me and I curled up next to him. I felt spent and happy and safe—exactly what I wanted.

  “Will you stay here with me tonight?” I asked, my head resting on his rising and falling chest.

  A small smile formed on his lips.

  “Sure, kiddo,” he said. “Couch is a little small, though.”

  I snuggled up even closer to him.

  “Then I guess you’re going to have to hold me extra tight.”

  He leaned in and kissed me softly. Something told me that he didn’t have any problem with that arrangement.

  21

  Ranger

  I woke up in the middle of the night to a commotion. My eyes shot open wide and I looked around the room to make sure that no one had broken in. Sure, the odds of Heretics being able to get into our HQ were slim to none, but I wasn’t about to take any chances.

  Especially with Cassie here next to me.

  Silence returned, and I continued to listen. For a second, I wondered if I’d been hearing things. I’d been so wound up and ready for action over the last day that I knew it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility that my brain was starting to hear danger that wasn’t there.

  But then I heard something else, something that sounded like yelling coming from somewhere in the building. I knew it wasn’t a bar fight—those were common, but it was impossible to hear them all the way in the back of the bar like this.

  Slowly, I took my arm out from underneath Cassie, not wanting to wake her. She smacked her lips together, still asleep. She looked so damn gorgeous lying there, like a little angel. A protective urge ran through me, waking me up and putting me in a state where I was ready to rip apart anyone who even looked at her in a threatening way.

  It was more than a little scary. Feeling protective wasn’t new to me—it was how I felt for all my boys in the Angels—but this was something else. It made me feel like I was on the brink of losing control.

  And I was a man who didn’t like to feel out of control.

  More commotion sounded, and now I could hear the heavy footfalls somewhere in the HQ. The thought that we were potentially being invaded occurred to me. Could the Heretics be making their move already?

  It made some kind of sense—if a war was inevitable, then hitting us hard as quickly as they could would be one way to get the upper hand. The thought made my blood pound in my veins. If the Heretics hit us full force, it’d be enough to wipe us off the map. Sure, my boys and I would be able to take more than a few of them down in the process, but it’d simply be a matter of numbers.

  I reached under the couch and took out the shotgun I kept hidden under there for just such emergencies. Not wanting to waste any time, I quickly threw on my pants and boots before securing the window and making sure that no one would be able to get in through there.

  The shotgun resting against my shoulder, I slowly opened the door and stuck my head out into the hallway.

  Nothing. But as I listened, I heard more frantic movement coming from the floor below us.

  “Motherfucker!” shouted one voice.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I heard.

  This wasn’t good. I shut the door and locked it behind me. I hated leaving Cassie alone like that, not only because I wouldn’t be able to protect her,
but because if she woke up, she’d be alone, without a clue as to what was going on.

  But I was the VP of this outfit, and it was my job to make sure that I was on top of things. Shotgun in hand, I hurried down the hallway and made my way to the stairs. The commotion grew louder as I reached the floor below ours, and it sounded like there was a group of men in the common room.

  I stepped up to the door leading to the common room from the stairwell, cocked my shotgun, and opened it slowly.

  “Where the fuck is Diesel?”

  “I told you where he is—at the fucking hospital!”

  “Fuck, fuck.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “Bad. Touch and go.”

  In the common room were about eight Angels. Dakota was there, along with Pitt, one of our lieutenants. Pitt looked like he’d been in a hell of a scrape, his shirt ripped and stained with dried blood. The rest of his crew looked about the same.

  Some shit had gone down—of that there was no doubt. The eyes of all the men in the room locked onto me as soon as I stepped in.

  “What the fuck is going on in here?” I asked, slinging my shotgun back over my shoulder.

  “Is that a fucking shotgun?” asked Pitt, gesturing to my gun.

  “No,” I said. “It’s a fucking pool noodle. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “Fight,” said Dakota. “Some of our boys got jumped by a Heretics raiding party.”

  I said nothing, letting the words sink in.

  “Fuck,” I said finally. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Do we look fucking all right?” asked Pitt.

  I quickly cut the distance between him and me, getting right in his face.

  “I can tell you’ve been through some shit,” I said. “But I’m your fucking vice president. You talk to me like that again and I’ll finish the job the Heretics started.”

  Talking like that wasn’t something I was crazy about, but Pitt needed to know to stay the fuck in line. There’d been some bad blood between the two of us ever since Dakota had picked me over him to be the VP a while back. Pitt, of course, thought he was the right man for the job, and had never moved on from being passed over.

  He was a good solider, but his pride could get in the way.

  “Hey!” called out Dakota. “Both of you, cool it right-the-fuck now! We got bigger shit to worry about than dick-waving!”

  Pitt and I stared each other down for several long seconds before I decided to be the bigger man and back off. He flashed me a snarl that made it clear he wasn’t done with this beef, not by a fucking long shot.

  “Now,” said Dakota. “Pitt, do be so fucking kind as to tell Ranger what happened.”

  Pitt shook his head as if trying to rid himself of the tension and anger building in him.

  “The boys and I were out for a ride, going through the territory and making sure that everything was in order. And we also wanted to see what the Heretics were up to. It might be soon for them to make a move, but I wouldn’t put some Pearl-Harbor shit past them.”

  He went on, and I listened intently.

  “We were down in Haverton and decided to stop for a drink at Pepe’s. Palace was dead, so we figured that it wouldn’t be too big of a deal. Well, we showed up and there wasn’t a soul in the place other than the bartender. The bartender and one other guy, that is.”

  “The guy had a kutte on, but I didn’t recognize any of his patches. I figured that he was some dude in from out of town, stopping for a drink on his way through the city. He kept to himself, but something about the way he sized us all up when we walked in put me on fucking edge—I didn’t like it.”

  “I knew we should’ve turned around and gotten the fuck out of there,” said Shred, one of Pitt’s men. “I said it right from the start!”

  “Shut the fuck up and let me talk!” growled Pitt.

  Shred didn’t have another word to say.

  “But we were more interested in getting some booze in us than anything else. About halfway through our drinks, the guy got up, paid his bill, and left. And on the way out he gave us this look that almost said ‘you guys are in some fucking serious shit and you don’t even know it’.”

  “Then what?” I asked.

  “I wanted to get back on the road. The whole thing put me on edge. So, we finished our drinks and got a move on. It was getting late, so I decided it was time to head back to the HQ. We saddled up and decide to take the back way to get here. All went well until, all of a fucking sudden, some huge moving truck pulls out of a goddamn alley and blocks the fucking road!”

  “Shit,” I hissed.

  “Out the back of the truck poured ten or so Heretics, all ready for a fight. I knew that if we stuck around, we’d get wrecked, but the boys and I held our own.”

  “Not Diesel,” said Cutter, one of the other men.

  “What happened to Diesel?” I asked.

  “One of the Heretics got in a lucky shot with a length of steel pipe,” said Pitt. “Got him right in the temple and knocked him out cold. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he hit the ground hard when he fell off his bike.”

  “Where’s he now?” I asked.

  “Down at St. Mary’s,” said Cutter.

  “He gonna be okay?” I asked.

  “Doctors said he got hit hard,” said Pitt, “but he should be fine—just out cold. But he got lucky as shit—I’ve known men to die on the spot from a hit like that.”

  “He’s a tough motherfucker,” said Dakota.

  “He is,” I said. “And yeah, he got lucky as hell.”

  I turned to Dakota.

  “This means that the Heretics aren’t wasting any time,” I said.

  “Yep,” said Dakota. “This is standard practice—do a quick hit; let us know that we’re not safe. Right now they’re probably planning a major strike in the next few days.”

  “Then we’re going to need to get prepped as fast as we can. No more fucking around—the entire crew’s going to have to be ready for a full-on assault at the HQ at any moment.”

  Dakota nodded, and I knew he and I were on the same page.

  Pitt, on the other hand, seemed to have something else on his mind. His fists were clenched, and his eyes boiled with rage. He glared at me hard, as if he wanted to take me apart right there, limb from limb.

  “What is it?” I asked, stepping closer to him. “You got something on your mind, then spit it out like a man. Don’t stand there steaming like a fucking toddler.”

  I knew that wasn’t going to make matters any better, but I wasn’t in the mood to screw around. All of us were going to need to be on-point, and having a pissed-off lieutenant was the last thing I needed to be worried about.

  “This is your fucking fault,” he spat out.

  “Fucking excuse me?” I asked.

  “You,” he said. “You and that fucking girl. She’s the reason why we’re in this whole fucking mess.”

  I said nothing, letting him go on and get it all out.

  “She saw a fucking murder that had nothing to do with us. You could’ve let her take the bullet and turned around and walked away. She’d be dead and things would be honky-fucking-dory between us and the Heretics. But no, you had to go and play white knight.”

  “You know this is bigger than that,” said Dakota. “You know that the Heretics have been gunning for a war since Red Flag took over.”

  “This is between me and Ranger!” shot out Pitt.

  Dakota wasn’t about to let an underling talk to him that way. He rushed in and grabbed Pitt by the neck with speed that was impressive even to me.

  “I know you’ve been through some shit,” he said. “And I know you’re worried about Diesel. And that’s why I’m giving you a warning instead of putting your head through that window.”

  Pitt said nothing—a smart move on his part. Once Dakota was satisfied that he’d gotten the message, he let go.

  “But I’m right,” said Pitt. “It’s not too late—we can give the girl back and smooth
things over. Maybe war’s coming, but we can maybe buy some time to get ready.”

  I scanned the room, the dozen or so men in attendance watching very, very carefully. They all knew what was happening: the VP was being questioned.

  This was a challenge.

  “Just say what you really want to say,” I said. “I want to hear it out of your own fucking mouth.”

  Pitt clenched his jaw as if thinking over what he was about to do. Finally, he spoke.

  “You’re not fit for the job,” he said. “You’re gonna get us all killed.”

  I turned back to Dakota, and he gave me a solemn nod. These were fighting words, no doubt about it.

  I set the shotgun down and squared up in front of Pitt. He rolled his shoulders and got ready. He knew he’d started a fight, and he was ready to see it through.

  So was I.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “First swing’s yours.”

  He let out a snort before pulling his fist back and sending it through the air.

  Pitt was a good fighter and tough as hell, but he didn’t have shit on me. I easily dodged the blow, stepping backward and watching his fist sail harmlessly through the air. Once I was clear, I moved in for a strike of my own. I drove my fist into his gut, the air rushing out of his lungs.

  Pitt staggered back, his face now red as a tomato. I wasn’t interested in dragging this out, so I stepped in, pulled my fist back, and sent it right into his face. It landed with a wet-sounding “thwack” and he stumbled back onto the couch in a heap, blood streaming down his nostrils.

  And that was that.

  “You want to take another shot?” I asked, standing over him.

  He wiped the blood away with the back of his wrist before shaking his head.

  “Smart man,” I said.

  It was a fair fight—no cheap shit or dirty tactics. I stuck out my hand and offered it to Pitt. He grabbed it, and I pulled him to my feet.

  “Now,” I said, addressing the crowd. “I think I speak for the boss here when I say that shit’s going to be going down, and you all need to be ready. You got any more complaints, you come to Dakota or me. And if you’ve got complaints like these, just let me know—I’m always in the mood for a scrap.”