Devil's Disciples MC Series- The Complete Boxed Set

by Scott Hildreth

  I pulled the door handle, dragging the top of the door across the brass bell that hung in the door way. When the bell clanged, I paused.

  I cocked my head to the side and waited. There was one more thing I needed before I left, and I wasn’t prepared to leave without it. After a silent ten seconds, I closed the door and reopened it.

  Clang, clang. Clang, clang.

  With the door open twelve inches, I stood in wait.

  “Carma!”

  I smiled. “Yes, George?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I said over my shoulder.

  On my way home, I gave thanks for my life and the people in it. I was truly blessed the day I met Reno, and I realized it fully.

  When the garage door opened, I was disappointed to see Reno’s motorcycle parked in its spot. Beating me home meant he was cooking dinner. His heart was in the right place, but he couldn’t cook to save his ass. I’d eaten so many experiments that I feared one more might be the death of me.

  Frustrated, I parked the car and stomped to the door. “How’d you get home so quickly?” I asked as I pushed it open.

  “Rode like a bat out of hell.”

  I took a few steps. The aroma of Italian food permeated throughout the home. “Oh, wow. That smells good. What is it?”

  “Italian.”

  I mentally rolled my eyes, set my purse on the sideboard, and walked into the kitchen. Wearing a pair of cut-off sweat shorts, sneakers, and a ribbed tank, Reno was standing at the island peering into a translucent take out container. Beside it, a cardboard pizza box sat. In one hand he held a large plastic fork, in the other, he held a plastic spoon.

  I laughed. “You got take out.”

  He looked up. “You bitch when I cook.”

  I meandered to his side and kissed him. “If you hadn’t rode like a bat out of hell, maybe I’d be the one cooking.”

  He checked his watch. “By my watch, it’s going to be starting in thirty-seven minutes. We need to hurry.”

  “What’s going to be starting?”

  “Meteor shower.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yep. This one’s once every seventeen bajillion years or some shit.” He lifted a wad of salad, attempted to put it on a plate, and dropped half of it on the floor.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’d prefer you didn’t.”

  I sighed. “Please?”

  He glanced at the floor, smirked, and then looked at me. “Can I do something nice for once?”

  “Fine,” I said. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Use the front one.” He chuckled. “Someone dropped a bomb in this one.”

  “Someone?”

  “Don’t know who it was,” he responded, slinging salad as he spoke. “It sure smells like shit, though.”

  I went to the guest bathroom, washed my hands, and checked myself in the mirror. I looked the same as always, but I now saw myself differently. In Reno’s presence, I was convinced I was beautiful.

  He reminded me of it daily.

  So much that I now believed him.

  I grinned and went back into the kitchen. I looked at the mess on the floor, the mess on the island, and then at Reno.

  “I’ll get it when we’re done,” he said.

  I sighed. “Okay.”

  He handed me a plate and a glass of wine, and then grabbed his. “C’mon. I don’t want to miss it. Supposed to be one shooting star every fourteen seconds or something like that.”

  I glanced at my plate. The pizza looked like he’d brought it home in his pocket. I shrugged it off and followed him toward the back door.

  We went out onto the deck and took a seat side by side. Facing the sky, Reno lifted a piece of pizza to his mouth and took a large bite. “Amazes me that crap like this happens.”

  I took a bite of salad. “Me, too. When does it start?”

  He checked his watch. “Twenty-eight minutes.”

  We ate the mangled pizza, talked of our days at work, the motorcycle he had on order at the Harley dealership, and of the upcoming poker run. In no time, we were finished with our meals, and enjoying the wine.

  “The food was really good,” I said. “Where’d you get it?”

  “Primo-something, up the street. Goose told me about it. Italian kid owns it. He came here from Jersey.”

  “The pizza was just kind of mangled,” I said. “Other than that, I really liked it.”

  “That’s on me,” he said. “Had to put the boxes in my saddlebags on their sides. When I got here, the pizza was in a wad. Didn’t straighten out too good. I gave it my best.”

  I laughed to myself. In my eyes, he was adorable. “You did good. How much time?’

  He checked his watch. “Fourteen minutes.”

  It had been dark for an hour or so. I gazed up at the sky, but didn’t see anything spectacular, short of a starry sky.

  “Does it start all at once?” I asked.

  He tilted his head back and gazed up at the sky. “Think so.”

  “Time?” I asked, not bothering to look away from the sky.

  “Twelve.”

  I reached under my skirt hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my panties and worked them down my legs. As I maneuvered them past my feet, I glanced at Reno.

  He didn’t have a clue.

  I dropped them at my side. “Time?”

  He checked his watch. “Eleven.”

  I stood, stepped to the edge of the deck, and leaned onto the handrail. After checking over my shoulder, I flipped my skirt to my waist.

  “Moon’s out,” I said.

  “I don’t see it.”

  “Moon’s out,” I said.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

  “Trying to get some love before this starts,” I said. “Ten minutes worth, at least.”

  He glanced over each shoulder, pushed his shorts down in one shove, and gripped his cock in his fist. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

  There was no preparation time required for me to have sex with Reno. I was as ready as I could get every time I was in his presence. All it took for me to get ready was to look at him and imagine us making love.

  Seeing him with his stiff dick in his hand put me over the top. I braced myself against the handrail, arched my back, and drew a breath.

  He pressed his lips against my neck.

  I nudged him with my shoulder. “Stop it. There’s no time for that,” I said, although I wished he’d never stop doing it.

  He ground his hips against my butt, causing his rigid shaft to slap against my swollen mound with each playful gyration of his hips.

  “Stop messing around and give me some love,” I complained. “The show starts in ten minutes.”

  He paused. “Seven.”

  “Hurry.”

  “Both shows are gonna start at the same time,” he said. “Let me do what I do best.”

  He had many talents, but loving me was his greatest, by far.

  With my hands gripping the handrail firmly, I braced myself for whatever he chose to grace me with.

  The gyrating stopped.

  He pressed his face against my inner thighs. Knowing what was next, I spread my feet shoulder width apart.

  His tongue darted in and out of my wet folds, teasing me until I was a wreck. A simultaneous finger-fucking and clit licking followed, bringing me to the brink of orgasm. Just shy of obtaining his goal, he paused.

  He knew me all too well.

  His touch, entirely, disappeared. No hands. No tongue. No cock. I stood on shaking legs, waiting for what was next.

  Slight pressure against my mound caused me to flinch. I clenched my jaw tight and gripped the handrail.

  His swollen girth penetrated me slowly, taking my breath away with each inch that filled my wetness. When he’d given me all he had to give, he hesitated, leaned over me, and kissed my neck.

  I closed my eyes and mentally embraced him. Our
bodies melded into one.

  Our hearts and minds were undoubtedly connected, but when he worked his length in and out of my confines, he reminded me of the magic we created when we linked by our flesh.

  His hands swept up and down my sides, gripping my waist, squeezing my ass, and kneading my swollen breasts, never stopping for long enough to give me an opportunity to focus on the pleasure they created.

  Instead, it seemed to come from everywhere.

  I opened my eyes and gazed at the starry sky. Each erotic thrust cast my hips against the bannister, taking my breath from my lungs in the process. I got lost in the predictable rhythm, working my body in unison with his, hoping I could somehow provide him with the same pleasure he offered me.

  The tension within me mounted, stripping me of common sense and the ability to remain silent.

  The sound of my own moaning became as much of a turn-on as the sex itself. Driven by the sensual sound that was escaping my lungs, I subconsciously continued, with each groan growing louder than the last.

  “We can hear that shit over here!”

  I arched my back. “Shut up, Goose!”

  After much negotiating, we’d purchased the home next door to Goose and Ally. I now spent my evenings being hypnotized by the waves as they crashed ashore no differently than I did when I was a child.

  “Seriously,” Goose shouted. “You two need to fuck inside. We’re trying to enjoy the meteor shower.”

  “This show’s almost over,” I teased.

  Reno laughed, increased his pace, and began fucking me like he was working against a clock. After finding our rhythm, we quickly reached the brink of climax again.

  He slowed his pace, holding me at the edge for a moment, before finishing inside of me.

  As he moaned his pleasure into the night’s starry sky, I, too reached an earth-shattering climax. When my legs stopped shaking and my mind returned to earth, I turned to face him.

  He pulled my body against his and kissed me deeply, reminding once again of the love we so naturally shared.

  When our lips parted I leaned away and gazed into his eyes.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you, too.”

  He was truly the man of my dreams, my first love, and my only love. With him, I felt my life’s journey was truly complete.

  “There went one,” he said, pointing off into the distance behind me.

  I turned and gazed into the star-filled sky.

  A falling star cascaded from left to right.

  I closed my eyes and realized a wish wasn’t necessary.

  I had everything I needed.

  Also by Scott Hildreth

  MC Series

  Devil's Disciples Series

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  Tito

  Mike Wilson, Todd Plummer, Todd Crisler, Kevin McAllister, Matt Reed, and Michael Hallaux.

  The times we had when we were kids.

  They’ll stay with me forever.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This book contains scenes of criminal acts, some that are typical of gangs and motorcycle clubs, and some that aren’t. The fictitious club name, Devil’s Disciples, is in no way tied to the real-life club, Devils Diciples. Different spelling, different club. The acts and actions depicted in the book are fictitious, as are the characters.

  Every sexual partner in the book is over the age of 18. Please, if you intend to read further than this comment, be over the age of 18 to enjoy this novel.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, are coincidental.

  TITO 1 Edition Copyright © 2019 by Scott Hildreth

  All rights reserved… In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author or publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use the material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at designconceptswichita@gmail.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights

  Cover design by Jessica

  Follow me on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/sd.hildreth

  Like me on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/ScottDHildreth

  Follow me on Twitter at: @ScottDHildreth

  Prologue

  The meeting room smelled of testosterone, leather, weak cigarette smoke, and coffee. Eleven officers and two detectives, each dressed in tactical SWAT gear, waited eagerly to hear their orders.

  Standing at a lectern in the front of the room, the police captain surveyed the group. As always, he secretly worried of the worst-case scenario unfolding during the mid-morning raid of the outlaw motorcycle club’s building.

  “According to intel,” the captain said. “This outlaw motorcycle gang will be armed. I repeat, will be armed. At least one of the patched members is a former special forces vet.”

  He lifted a ten-page report from his lectern. “The report filed this morning indicates this OMG has been committing robberies in San Diego County for the past fifteen years. I want these guys off the streets, gentlemen. Furthermore, I want every man in this room to return to their family this evening.” He glanced around the room, taking time to make eye contact with each man. “If you’re met with resistance, do not hesitate. Shoot first, ask questions later.”

  One of the two detectives raised his right hand.

  The captain gave a curt nod. “Detective Watson?”

  “I know this motorcycle club. I know the layout of their clubho
use,” the detective said. “I’ve been in it on more than one occasion, gathering intel. I’d like to volunteer to be first in.”

  “Duly noted.” The captain said, lifting his chin slightly. His steel-gray eyes darted from one man to another. “Any objections on Watson being first in?”

  Receiving no opposition, the captain returned his gaze to Detective Watson. “You’ll be first in, Watson.” He swallowed heavily at the thought of what force the detective would likely be met with. “May God be with you.”

  207

  Reggie

  Despite his claim of being speechless, the excuses continued to spill from his mouth. Jumbled and incomprehensible, the words bounced from one piece of furniture to the next. Unwilling to acknowledge another moment of justification for his infidelity, my gaze floated around the living room.

  I convinced myself he was different.

  In the beginning, he was.

  Early in our relationship, the mere hint of his cologne would send me into a desire-induced frenzy. Now, sitting six feet away from him on the couch, I was repulsed by that very same aroma. I could only look at him long enough to remind me of what he’d done, and then I had to divert my attention elsewhere.

  His attempts to rationalize his actions continued. The dull drone of his voice sawed against my frayed nerves.

  I felt foolish for trusting him. I should have listened to my father. He warned me that any man who waxed his eyebrows and got regular manicures was far too vain to remain loyal.

  The smell of cheap perfume wafted in my direction. Realizing its origin caused my muscles to tense. I glared at my unfaithful soon to be ex-boyfriend. The dark circles beneath his eyes, wrinkled shirt, and disheveled hair gave hint to the sexual antics he nearly got away with.

  I’d spent the same amount of time in a relationship with him as I’d spent in college. Even so, while he admitted the intricate details of his infidelity, I didn’t feel an ounce of heartache. Maybe there was a part of me that expected him to do what he did. Maybe my father’s advice sank in, but I simply failed to act on it.