Women fall into my lap. Until an innocent beauty crosses my path and wants nothing to do with me.
I"m one of the Devil"s Riders, the inner circle of one of the biggest motorcycle clubs in California. My brothers and I live on the edge of society, and we like it just fine.
I"m swimming in easy women, but I"m easily bored. Then one day, I see her. Molly McRae. She"s easy on the eyes and sweet as pie. All I want to do is take a bite.
From the moment I see Molly, I"m on a mission. I chase her down and learn her name. Then I begin my campaign to make her mine.
I want to mark her. I want to tattoo her silky skin and kiss away her tears.
Hell, I want to put my brand on her. My name. My ring.
And I won"t stop until she"s mine.Books in Series:The Devil’s Riders Series by Joanna BlakeBooks by Author:Joanna Blake Books
The Night it all changed
"Not tonight, ladies."
I felt a little guilty about all the disappointed faces, but I had somewhere to be. A birthday to celebrate.
And to be honest, I was kind of bored with the constant hooking up with the club girls. They were more than just easy. They were literally always available and down to do just about anything a truly perverted mind could think up. Some of the guys called them skanks, but I didn"t think that was a nice way to talk about a lady.
Of course, that didn"t mean I hadn"t spent many a night fucking them stupid. Usually, two or three at a time. More than a couple of times, four. And twice, five.
Yeah, I"m kind of a legend around here.
Not just for the way I use my ink gun either.
I"m the latest addition to the inner circle of the club. I"d come up with Whiskey and had been brought inside on his word. Devlin, Jack, and Donahue all counted me as a brother. All the club guys were brothers in theory, but we were close brothers. Tight.
I hadn"t had much of a family growing up other than my nana. My parents had been addicts, and both died young. Not before scaring the fuck out of me a bunch of times though.
It had been my phone call, after finding my mom lying in her own sick with a needle in her arm, that made my nana come and get me. She"d tried to protect me for years, but my mom had put on a good show for Child Protective Services. This was the final straw.
I"d been six years old but smart enough to call my nana, who called 911. She"d driven hours in the dead of night to sit with her grandson and speak to the EMTs and the police. They treated my mother"s lifeless body like she was a piece of garbage, just something in the way to deal with. An inconvenience, not a person.
I"d had an aversion to cops ever since.
And a boatload of respect for my grandmother.
I could never disrespect any woman because of that respect. Yes, they were more or less interchangeable to me, sexually. But I never turned down a good time.
But lately, things were changing. Lately, I had not been feeling it.
I wanted more than a place to put my dick. That was easy. I needed more than that. It was sneaking up on me, but it was there. I was like an uncle to Becky and Whiskey"s kid, and it started to give me the itch for one of my own.
Of course, that meant I"d have to find a woman worth staying home for. I could hardly imagine it, but maybe, just maybe, I was willing to put away my wild nights for one very lucky lady.
I could say my future old lady was lucky for a couple of reasons, but number one was my incredibly long . . . tongue.
Even before I was a full club member, I"d never been at a loss for women. The guys all thought it was because I had a pretty face and some major ink. Some thought it was my piercings. Or the fact that I had a gigantic dick.
Nope. None of those things.
All I had to do to get a woman was one thing.
I just had to show her I could lick my eyebrows.
Oh yeah, my tongue was longer than most guys" cocks. And I could work miracles with it. Of course, I didn"t treat just anyone. But now and then, I"d show a lady a really, really good time.
I held a fist in the air as I left the clubhouse. It was still early, but there were women lining up, looking for fun. I had a bag of coke in my jacket pocket, a bunch of rolled joints, three bottles of tequila and a case of beer at my crib, but tonight, I was going to be a good boy.
Tonight was Nana"s birthday.
I jumped on my ride and tore off, making sure to stop home to pick up the present I"d bought for her earlier. I"d had just enough time to swing by the fancy florist in town before they closed.
I headed to the skilled nursing home where my nana was living. I paid for every cent of her care, and it was expensive too. But she was worth it.
Because of the house I had bought her a few years back and all the money I"d sent her over the years, she didn"t quite qualify for low-income medical insurance. So it was all out of pocket.
It was a good place, though, and she liked it. And if she ever took a fall again, someone would be there to help her. I"d nearly lost my mind last year when she took a tumble and was too far from the phone to call for help.