Chapter One
Cruz
The vibration from my Harley Street Bob rumbled into my groin. Considering how I felt about my dick and the girl with her arms wrapped around me, it was a good fucking feeling.
Steel tailpipes, leather seat, raw power. Riding my Harley gave me a rush and sent a tingle ripping along my spine. I was on my way to the Heller Raiders MC with two wheels down and McKelle on the back of my ride.
I slowed the bike as we approached the compound. The exhaust of a Harley was like a song to a biker. The engine popped and roared as I gave the throttle a little gas sending the vibration into my balls.
Ten-foot fencing protected the private property of the MC. Friday night, and the gates were open. I rode along the wide lane between rows of bikes. Guys, called patches in the MC, stood around the fire in the oil drum, probably talking about the glory days of riding their bikes and riding their old ladies.
Tales from long before my time in the MC. I was a prospect for the club, proving my loyalty and paying my dues in service. The clubhouse was a converted church. Stained-glass windows stretched the front of thebuilding. Bikes filled the parking lot, and the smell of barbecue from the smokers saturated the air.
McKelle’s best friend, Kiss, stood next to one of the OG’s, Sully, at the oil drum. She waved, and McKelle tapped my shoulder. I stopped by the front oak doors of the church. She climbed off the bike and tugged off her helmet.
The old men at the oil drum stared. My girl was fit as fuck. She turned to me and tried to tame her wild hair with her fingers. “I’ll see you inside.”
Jeans rode low on her hips, and the tank beneath her open leather jacket molded to her tits. With deep blueish-green eyes and full lips, she was model beautiful and built like a figure eight racetrack. Blonde hair draped to the middle of her back. She had the good-girl-gone-bad vibe. To be with me, she had to be a bit rebellious.
Before she could step away, I tucked my fingers into the front of her jeans. She resisted as I tugged her closer.
“Are we good?” I asked.
We’d had a fight earlier. Like her pearl-white BMW S1000R sportbike, my biker girl ran hot.
“I’ll make it up to you,” I said.
“There’s something wrong with me.” She rested her hands on my shoulders and rolled her eyes. “How can I hate you and love you at the same time?”
“You love me?” The words slipped out slowly and teasingly. We didn’t do the cupid version of love. McKelle liked to get dirty. Maybe that was why she put up with me. She might race bikes at the track, but I was her adrenaline. And she was simplymine. End of story.
“Like I said, there’s something wrong with me.” She leaned forward, and I slanted my lips over hers. My grip on her tightened as I tasted the edge of her mouth, lickedher lips, and claimed her pierced tongue with mine. She moaned and kissed me back. This was where we were good.
When the rest of my life was shit, I still had McKelle. She’d ride my ass as hard as she rode my cock. Usually angry sex, but with McKelle, she was all fire, and when she was pissed, sex was in another fucking stratosphere. Although, I’d known I was going to piss her off when I’d lied to her. But fuck, we’d had the same argument. Working with her old man and hanging out at the racetrack. Neither were my scene.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
She glanced down. Her fingers slid along my thigh and defined the edge of my dick with her fingertips. I was half hard, even after forty minutes of fucking her happy again.
“I know, but it’s not about being sorry. Don’t tell me you’ll be at the track and then blow me off. I’m tired of making excuses to my dad. He needed you yesterday. I told him you’d be there and then I had to come up with a reason why you weren’t.”
McKelle’s dad belonged to a racing club, Nitro Racing, and he had no love for me or the MC. “We both know he didn’t want me at the track with you. He doesn’t want me in the same hemisphere with you.”
“It’s not about him. It’s about me. You should’ve been there because I wanted you there.”
“Next time. I promise.”
“You have to make your promises count, Cruz.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “You promised you’d be there.”
I didn’t try to hold on to her as she stepped back, turned, and jogged over to meet Kiss. Looked like I wasn’t done groveling yet. Because no way was Ihanging out at the track with a bunch of assholes on crotch rockets. If she wanted me at the track, it would be another broken promise or another fight. We were talking about McKelle. Either way it was going to be a fight because I wasn’t good withdads,and she wanted me to be best friends with hers.
A night in the MC playing billiards, winning money off the guys, and hanging out with Kiss would take the bite out of her anger.
Kiss had a few months of clean time. McKelle was good for her. And Kiss was good for Blue, one of my best friends in the MC. Dozer was the other. When I’d decided to prospect for the club, Dozer became my sponsor, otherwise known as mymom.He’d talked about a brotherhood. He said Hellers were family by choice. Considering my family, I hadn’t been sure I wanted in.
But then I’d met Blue. Some people gave perspective on life. Blue was that for me. I thought I’d had a fucked-up childhood, but I hadn’t been through the mindfuck Blue had. I guess we all had scars from our damage. Kiss had heroin. Blue had— Blue had dealt with trauma I couldn’t conceive. At least his perpetrator was dead. And so was Kiss’s dealer. We all had secrets. Their secrets weren’t mine to tell.
I guess I was better at keeping secrets than I was at keeping my promises.
