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Hell's Riders: Wild (MC Romance) Page 2


  “I’m sorry!" I whispered. "We'll get you to a doctor soon.” He didn’t say a word, and I worried about his state of mind, but I held my tongue.

  I finally got the ropes off all the way, then I took off his blindfold. He stared up at me with a peculiar expression that I didn’t quite understand, but he took the gun I handed him. The hallway was still silent, and we were about to find out if that meant an ambush, or if it was really clear. I held my breath and threw myself through the door, hoping that I could at least draw their fire long enough for Derrick to get away. I’d been ignoring the pain from my wounds, but now that I was beginning to think we might make it out of here alive, it flared up, reminding me that I’d been more than overdoing it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. His eyes focused on me, and for the first time, I saw an intensity there that I’d never had directed at me before.

  I shook my head and kept on creeping along the hallway, darting past doors as quickly and quietly as I could. When we reached the back door that I’d come in through, I felt a soaring hope in my heart. Maybe we were hope free. Or maybe there was an ambush just outside the door. I felt more adrenaline pumping through my veins, and my palms began to sweat a little. I gripped the pistol tighter in my hands and flung the door open, tracking any movement I found with the barrel.

  It was an uneventful trip to the hole in the fence, and I let him go first, thinking that he might be so weak now that I’d have to help push him through. He was battered and bruised, as far as I could tell from the small amount of skin that had been exposed. I hoped that that was the extent of his injuries, because I would be coming back here with a machete and going ape shit on everyone if he was seriously hurt.

  I let him put his arm around me and took most of his weight as he leaned heavily on me for the short walk to the car. My heart beat hard as I helped him into the passenger side, then walked around toward the back to the car to loop back to the driver's side. So close to safety. I just needed to get behind that wheel and... my hostage popped out of the trunk like a jack-in-the-box, stabbing me with a knife. He’d gotten me right in the gut with the other wounds, and my stomach screamed at me, almost making me lose consciousness. God knows where that knife came from... I doubled over in pain, hitting the dirty ground and groaning. He’d managed to cut the rope from around his feet, and the last thing I saw of him was his feet running toward the hole in the fence.

  My breaths were coming in choked gasps and I held my hand to my bloody side, willing another burst of adrenaline to get me to my feet. Slowly, shakily... I got there.

  I slammed the trunk closed and got in the driver’s side of the car. Derrick was passed out, but breathing. It was up to me to get us home, but the edges of my vision were already getting fuzzy…

  *

  Six months after I’d rescued Derrick, I was still in a hospital bed. The two of us had shared a hospital room for most of those six months, but now that Derrick was discharged, it was just me that was stuck here, under guard.

  I'd only had to spend about a week without Derrick there 24/7, before around came my last day. The nurse was working on my discharge papers and Derrick was supposed to be coming to pick me up any minute now. We hadn’t really talked about us, about the future, nothing that I could bank on. I was afraid to bring it up, worried about being shot down again.

  The nurse came in, leading Derrick and talking to him about my release instructions.

  “Hey! You look much better!” he said, as the nurse left us.

  I kept my eyes focused on the window. I didn't want to cry. If the talk was coming, it was coming now.

  He gently put his hand under my chin and turned my face until I was looking at him.

  “I know that I hurt you, and I’m sorry," he said. "Here's the truth: I do love you, Trish. But I was afraid that being part of the MC was going to be a hazard for your health, and I didn’t want to put you through that. I was right, wasn't it?"

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off.

  "I know, I know," he said. "You can take care of yourself. I see that now. You take care of yourself and you saved me. You came looking for me when I needed help. I understand.” He rummaged around in his pocket for a second, then pulled out a little box. “Trish, tell me that you’ll be there to save my ass for the rest of my life?”

  My jaw dropped. I couldn’t say anything, I could only nod.

  He got up and closed and locked the door, making sure the shutters were down before he came back to the bed. He lied over me and kissed me, running his hand under the thin hospital dress I was wearing. Fire shot through my veins, making me feel more alive than I had in almost a year.

  I clutched at him, pulling him closer to me, trying to turn our two bodies into one. It took me about ten seconds to get into his jeans and pull them off, and that was all he needed for encouragement. There was no foreplay, just a primal need for the two of us to be together.

  I hurriedly yanked my underwear to the side, not wanting to waste more time trying to get them off. I sighed in relief when I felt him enter me, and it was like a missing piece of myself had just come home. I moaned as he began to pump into me faster and deeper, and the angle of the bed was helping him reach places that he never had before.

  “I’ve missed this,” he growled in my ear as he increased his tempo. He didn’t know how much I felt the same. Sweat poured out of us both as we silently reached an agreement to see if we could go faster and harder than we ever had before.

  I was doing my best to hold back, and I could see that he was, too, but I had to hold on tight to his back as he plowed into me, or I might fall off the bed. I knew he loved my nails digging into his back. I felt him shiver under my hands and he grew even more rigid inside me and I felt a hot stream of his love juices shooting into me, filling me up.

  I cried out and shuddered with my own release as he collapsed on top of me, kissing me tenderly. My heart soared and I almost cried. My fiancé.

  Both of us got dressed with big grins on our faces, and he went and unlocked the door again, making it look like our quick romantic tryst never happened. But it would be burned into my memory for the rest of my life. He took me back into his arms and held me, and I hesitantly put my arms around him, too.

  “I love you, Derrick," I told him, "and I swear that I will always find you and save you for the rest of my life.”

  He squeezed my hand and pulled something out of the pocket of his shirt. I couldn’t see what it was until he handed it to me. It was a brochure to a resort somewhere in Cancun.

  “You told me that you were going to marry me, right?” he asked, smiling.

  I nodded vigourously.

  “Then that’s where we’re going to do it," he said. "We’ll have our honeymoon right there, and come back tan and sexy.”

  I burst out laughing and threw my arms around him.

  “When do we leave?” I asked.

  He pulled one more thing out of his pocket and showed it to me. I glanced at the date and time on the ticket…

  "Right now," he said.

  I kissed him and grabbed my coat. “Let’s go start the rest of our lives together.”

  The End

  Check out

  The Red Angel (MC Biker Romance)

  Also check out:

  Sons of Hellfire: Four-Book Bundle

  More by Fiona Flask

  EXCERPTS AND SAMPLES

  This following is a short prequel / introduction to the Sons of Hellfire series of serialized stories.

  Buy the 4-book bundle:

  Sons of Hellfire: Four-Book MC Bundle

  Sons of Hellfire: Origins

  Everyone in town knew the Sons of Hellfire MC. They were impossible to miss, rolling down the main drag with their well-worn leather jackets and vests emblazoned with their fiery sigil. The sight of them always made my heart speed up and my face flush. Something about the MC excited me. The danger, the leather, the look of them on their powerful machines. Men and women rode among th
em, but I never thought I could be one of them.

  I had heard whispers about what their initiations involved. Sex with the whole MC, I'd heard... And these whispered rumours also made my heart speed up. Made my cheeks flush.

  So when I saw a group of Sons of Hellfire members at the Silver Spoon, I felt both scared and intrigued at once. They were both alluring and frightening to me.

  The three leather-clad men stood at the bar, knocking back beers and clapping each other on the back, clearing having a hell of a time. There was one with a thick, wiry, brown beard and short hair. Another with slick blonde hair and blue eyes. The third was a skinny, rat-like man with a goatee. My eyes kept darting to the bearded man. I'm a sucker for beards.

  I tried to keep my attention on my girlfriends, Rachel and Karen, who I was drinking with. Vodka and ginger, whiskey sours, and tequila shots flowed, leaving me unsteady on my feet. I kept shooting looks over my shoulder toward the MC guys at the bar every few minutes.

  "Who are you looking at?!" Rachel said finally.

  "What?" I said, in a fuzzy voice.

  "You keep looking over your shoulder. Is it those biker guys?" Rachel asked.

  "What biker guys?" Karen chimes in, standing on tiptoe to look over my head.

  I put my hand on Karen's noggin and shove her back down, hissing, "Don't!"

  "Why?" said Rachel. "They haven't noticed you staring, why would they notice Karen?"

  "I haven't been staring," I said, blushing.

  "Which one do you like?" Rachel asks, elbowing me and peering at them.

  "Ew," said Karen, finally get a look. "They're all dirty. Look at that ugly, skinny fucker."

  I turned to look at the ugly, skinny fucker and decided he didn't look all that ugly or dirty. But Karen's always been more into v-neck sweater-types. My eyes went back to the bearded one. And in that moment, the bearded guy's eyes made contact with mine. I quickly looked away, hoping he didn't notice.

  "Hey, those guys are all looking over here," said Rachel.

  "Shit," I said.

  "The blond one is approaching," said Karen.

  "Fuck," I said.

  "Hi," said a man's deep voice behind me.

  I turned around and smiled. "Oh, hi!" I looked into the blue-eyed biker standing before me. He was smiling, too.

  "Want a drink?" he asked, ignoring the full drink in my hands.

  "Uh, sure."

  "Come on," he said, grabbing me by the elbow and leading me away from Karen and Rachel. I looked back at them and mouthed, "It's fine."

  The man didn't bring me over to his friends, but instead to the opposite end of the bar. He leaned over to the bartender, smiling, and ordered two beers. His manner was self-assured. He put the bottle of beer in my hand and maintained eye contact as he took a swig.

  "What's your name?" he asked.

  "Eve," I told him.

  "My name's JT," he said.

  I nodded. "Nice to meet you."

  "I noticed you looking over at me," he said.

  "Oh," I said. I decided not to mention I was looking at his friend.

  "Those are my buddies from out of town. You've heard of the Sons of Hellfire?"

  I nodded.

  "All good things, I hope?" he said.

  I nodded again.

  "They're from another chapter," he said, gesturing back toward his friends. "Just passing through, you know."

  "You're in the chapter here in town?"

  "You know it," he said. "So what's your story?"

  I took a breath. "I don't know. I work retail. I'm just out with some girls from work."

  He leaned in closer to me. "That's not your story. What do you like? What do you like to do?"

  "I like to... dance. I like to read. Movies..."

  "I like to go fast," he said. "Do you like to go fast?"

  My heart certainly liked to go fast. I bit my lip. "Yeah," I said. JT's blue eyes pierced me. I felt my body tingle.

  "Good," he said. "My Harley's outside." He downed the rest of his beer and took me by the hand.

  Fuck it. I followed and waved goodbye to my friends at the door.

  Outside, he tossed me his helmet and straddled his motorcycle. I had a brief stab of fear. I didn't know this guy at all. He seemed nice enough, but what if... I don't know. He could bring me anywhere and do anything to me...

  He looked back at me standing there hesitating. "You OK?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Then climb on the fuckin' bike!"

  I put on the helmet and got on behind him, grabbing him around his muscular midsection. The Harley roared to life and we flew forward and out of the gravel parking lot, kicking up dust. Road signs whipped by high speed. I clung tighter to JT, amazed by the speed. I'd never been on a motorcycle before. The wind was cold on my bare legs.

  Soon, the rumbling of the wheel meeting the road was vibrating through me. Hitting me right between the legs, sending electrical tingles through my pussy. I clenched my teeth and moaned. I didn't think JT could hear me over the wind and the engine. My cunt was soon soaking through my panties.

  I had no idea where he was taking me. We rode for ten minutes in the darkness of the highway and finally he came to an exit and got off the highway, slowing down.

  "Let's have a few drinks at the Cellar. It's free to drink there and it'll be empty tonight," JT said. He drove past tall fences into a big parking lot. There was a dark building ahead of us. The Cellar.

  We dismounted and he led me inside. He clicked on a few lights and the room was illuminated. Pool tables, a juke box, a bar, couches, chairs, stools. Framed mugshots on the wall. A big flag emblazoned with the Sons of Hellfire sigil.

  "Beer or whiskey?" JT asked.

  "Whiskey," I said.

  "That's my kind of woman. I can tell we're going to be very good friends." He poured me out a glass of whiskey and passed it over to me. He poured himself a glass and downed it quickly. I drank mine in four gulps. "So," he said, eyeing me hungrily. "How'd you like the ride?"

  "I loved it. And it's a nice place you've got here."

  "Thanks. So how'd you feel about another ride? A different kind of ride?"

  "I think I'd need to see what you mean by that before I agree."

  JT came up close to me. Close enough to breath me in. He leaned down and our lips met. His coarse stubble scratched my chin as his soft tongue entered my mouth roughly. His arm around my middle pulled me in close. My breasts pressed against his muscular chest. I felt like I was floating.

  He lifted me up into his arms and we were moving across the room. I felt myself being sat on a table of some kind. My hands reached behind and landed on felt. The pool table. And then I was lying on my back with JT on top of me. His fingers fumbled up inside my shirt and tweaked my stiff nipples. I moaned into his relentless mouth. I could feel his hard cock staining against his thick denim. I reached down to release him from his constraints. He tugged my wet panties off me and pushed my skirt up. The head of his cock met my slit.

  "You're wet, aren't you, Eve?"

  "Yes," I whispered.

  "That's my girl," he said, as he entered me. "You like to have a nice hard cock inside you, don't you?"

  I gasped and nodded as his prick filled me up, my pussy stretched around his thickness. He started thrusting, moving easily in and out of my wet cunt. My moans filled the air as he slammed me into the pool table's green felt. I could hear the balls clacking into the each other. I could hear my own wetness, and the slapping sound of JT's balls on my ass. JT's grunts were in my ear.

  I grabbed him by the leather vest and tugged him closer, so I could feel his scratchy face on my neck, and feel his breath. The smell of leather filled my nostrils and my mind swam. I loved that smell. And JT's skin. His musk. His aroma sent electricity through my body.

  JT withdrew from my pussy suddenly and roughly turned me over. "On all fours, bitch," he said, gruffly.

  This stopped everything. Bitch? He can't call me that on a one night st
and. I suddenly realized he saw me as a random floozy to nail and discard. If I wanted this to continue, I'd need to make him see me differently. If he wants a biker bitch, he better be prepared to really make me his bitch. I turned back around to face him. "I'm no one's bitch," I said, hopping off the pool table.

  JT watched me, eyes wide.

  "That's what they're called, right?" I pointed to the mug shots on the wall. Some of them were of women.

  "No," said JT. "They're called old ladies. And I hate to tell you this, Eve, but you rode bitch on my bike all the way from the Spoon to the Cellar. That's the dictionary definition of bitch."

  "Well, asshole, if you want to call me bitch, you're going to have to get to know me better."

  JT stared at me for several long seconds. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "My God, you're a real firecracker. Fine, fine, you're nobody's bitch. You want to fuck or what? I'm losing my hard-on, here."

  I smirked and took his cock in my hand, squeezing it tightly in my fist. JT nearly gasped. I pumped his cock, watching his face. Watching it change from mirthful to aroused. I sped up my strokes and listened to him moan.

  "Fuck, you're good at that."

  "I've got a helluva mouth on me, too," I said.

  "I bet you do."

  I pushed him onto his back on the pool table. "Let me do what I do," I said.

  I moved down his body and popped his cock into my mouth. My tongue swirled around his cock head while my hand continued to stroke his shaft. My tongue found his frenulum and flicked it, sending a shiver through the big, bad biker before me. That's real power right there.