CHAPTER 1: BUSH
Watching the cops handcuff the infamous Theodore Jordan and our two traitors, Trigger and Mouse, isn’t as satisfying as taking them to The Shed, but that’s the breaks. Too many witnesses made it necessary to bring in the cops instead of handing out justice vigilante-style. Besides, there was a traumatized little girl who didn’t need to see more violence. Theodore Jordan spent decades kidnapping and abusing women in San Diego. He ran to Chicago when Dante’s club closed in on him. He should have done his research. The Demon Dawgs have chapters everywhere. A bitch tried to sell him her stepdaughter, but we put a stop to that plan.
I’m straddling my bike and fastening my helmet when Chrome slaps me on the shoulder. “Don’t look so glum, I’m sure we’ll have someone in The Shed for you soon enough.”
I chuckle, but then sober up. “Scorch?” Our VP made some bad decisions that left two traitors free to wreak havoc in our club, all because he didn’t want to see Chrome making some necessary changes. Scorch has a few demons to conquer, specifically his misogyny. He’ll either need to get on board with Chrome’s desire to make the club more family-friendly, or he’ll have to move on. Personally, I wouldn’t mind seeing Scorch leave rather than deal with his bullshit. The club I belongedto back in Australia was filled with men like Scorch. Men who thought women were nothing but playthings for men.
Chrome winces. “Don’t know yet, but it's a possibility. He fucked up, and he knows it. We need to have Church and decide his fate. But not tonight. Tonight we’re having a party. I’m making Cicely my Old Lady, and we’ve put an end to Theodore Jordan. Time to celebrate.”
We arrive at the clubhouse to find Sammy waiting for us. He and the other prospects have cleaned the space, set out tables for food, and are restocking the bar.
“Margo?” Sammy asks Chrome.
“She’s safe. Cicely brought her back to her father. She wanted to be the one to explain to Dr. Kemper about what his wife had done and how she died.”
“What about Father T?”
“The cops arrested him. They now know his true identity and about the crimes he committed in San Diego. He won’t be getting out on bail this time. You’re safe, at least from him and his men. But you should still stay in the clubhouse. Might want to call the DA tomorrow and see if you still need to testify.”
“I will. Thanks, Prez.”
Chrome breaks off to talk to Ice while Sammy hands me a beer. When Ice jogs down the hall to our club offices, I spot Crystal walking toward me. She glides across the floor in four-inch red heels that match the dress, which barely reaches past her pussy. Her long legs eat up the floor as her hips sway seductively. I’ve had those long legs wrapped around me on several occasions, so I know how strong they are and how good they feel. Crystal is a beautiful woman, even if that beauty is hard. She moves between my legs.
“Hey, Bush,” she purrs as she runs her hands under my kutte and over my chest. “Want to get this party started?”
I grin down at her. “What did you have in mind?”
“I got waxed earlier, and the esthetician applied some edible lotion. Tastes like raspberries.”
“My favorite,” I growl as I hop off the barstool, lower my shoulder, and hoist her up. She giggles as I race up the stairs to my room. Tossing her on the bed, I shove her dress up so I can get a good look at her smooth pussy. The scent of ripe raspberries hits my nose when I lean in for a taste. “Fuck me, you taste like dessert.”
Crystal pulls her breasts out of the red dress to play with her nipples while I nibble on her pussy. I lick her folds as the juices gush. Sliding my hands under her ass, I palm her globes as I bring her pussy closer to my face. I rub my beard over her center to coat my beard with her juices. She moans and arches her back when I bite her sweet nub.
“Fuck me, gorgeous. I want you inside me. Give me your big, fat cock.”
Grabbing my wallet, I pull out a condom and drop it on the bed. Unfastening my belt, I lower my jeans far enough to take out my dick. Crystal tears open the foil to put the condom in her mouth. Levering up, she uses her hot mouth to slide the condom on my waiting cock. She scorches me with her eyes as she takes me deep. I give her a couple of thrusts before pushing her back onto the bed so I can align my cock with her slit. I slam inside as she screams out in pleasure.
“Fuck, yeah, baby, that’s it. Harder. Faster. Give me everything you’ve got.”
Wrapping my hand around her throat, I squeeze just a little as I pound into her pussy. Her eyes dilate as her velvet channel tightens around me. My legs tingle as my hips piston harder. I’m chasing my orgasm as hers builds to a crescendo. Reaching between us, I flick her nub once, twice, before she explodes. I pump three more times before I shoot my load.
Taking off the condom, I tie it and dump it before refastening my jeans and belt. Crystal slides off the bed and disappears into my bathroom. A few minutes later, she’s back out with her dress in place and a satisfied smile on her face.
“Thanks, baby, that’s just what I needed,” she coos before striding out the door.
After she’s gone, I can still smell her pussy on my beard. But instead of the sweet raspberry scent, it now smells like overripe fruit going to rot. Stripping, I hop in the shower and wash away the day along with her scent. The last few days have been stressful, and sex is the ultimate stress reliever. I feel more relaxed, but I’m also feeling restless.
The recent events have battered my self-esteem. We had traitors in our midst, and I didn’t recognize them. My family was in danger, and I completely missed the signs. I should have seen what was happening and put a stop to it. That’s unacceptable.
The music starts downstairs, which tells me the party is getting underway, but I’m not ready to party. I have a stop to make first.
In the infirmary, I find Scorch lying on one of the beds with his eyes closed. His face is a mess. He has bruises and swelling from the beatdown Trigger gave him. I managed to land several punches on Trigger’s smug face before the cops arrived, so he’s sitting in prison with a face almost as messed up as his uncle’s.
“You here to kill me?” Scorch asks as he opens his eyes to watch me.
“No. Should I be?”
He shrugs. “I screwed up.”
