Mad Delights (22 page)

“Faster,” she gasped. “Harder. Please!”

The orgasm climbed quickly within her. It wouldn’t be long before she hurtled toward ecstasy. It had never been like this before, this intense, this
full
. It was beyond reason, beyond normal pleasure. Dax reached down and pinched her clit, and that had her spiraling out into the heavens as she exploded into a pure, perfect moment of nirvana, like timelessness after jumping before gravity took control.

“Oh, fuck,” Dax moaned. He buried himself deep in her body as he found his release. Hot cum bathed her insides as he jerked out of control with each jet. His body shook under her right before he collapsed.

When Dax was spent, Romeo wrapped a hand on her shoulder and surged hard and fast, chasing his own plateau.

“Yes!” he cried.

She felt him swell in her ass.

“Oh, Chloe, yes!”

Then his cock slipped out of her body and he collapsed onto his side, next to where she lay on top of Dax. They were all breathing heavily, and Chloe reveled in the glorious orgasm as well as having her two men near.

* * * *

She must have fallen asleep because when she woke up, shadows touched the corners of the room. Dax had an arm snuggled around her waist while Romeo’s leg kept hers captive. She moved slightly, and their grips tightened.

“Are you awake?” Dax asked softly.

“I am now.”

Romeo groaned a little and turned on his back, freeing her legs. “You wore me out,” he told her.

She ran a hand down his sculptured torso, over his hard abs to grab his erection. “I think it missed me.”

Romeo snagged her and pulled her up onto his cock. He must have cleaned up before going to sleep because there wasn’t a condom, but she was still nice and wet from their activity. She sank down effortlessly.

“Ride me, love,” he said.

So she did, taking her time now that the fevered frenzy from earlier was gone. Dax presented his cock to her mouth and she sucked him in. She could spend every day in bed with her men, loving them and being loved by them. Every fantasy fulfilled. When Dax spurted in her mouth, she drank him down. After that, she and Romeo found fulfillment in each other’s arms.

They cuddled together as the shadows faded to night. Their stomachs growled with hunger, but Chloe was loath to leave the bubble they’d created.

“This is it for me, Chloe,” Romeo said, stroking her hair. “No more other pussy. Just yours.”

Somehow, the darkness eased the pressure of talking about commitment. She smiled.

“You’re saying you’ll be faithful?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because you know I have a slight problem with sharing.”

Dax chuckled. “What about me?”

“You’d better be faithful too, or I’ll shoot the bitch in the kneecaps. I’m a crack shot, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Dax replied. “As long as it’s only me and Rome, I don’t care if you stalk us.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said.

“And, Chloe?” Dax asked. “I think I love you.”

“Yeah,” Romeo added. “What he said.”

Her heart thumped with happiness as her insides went all warm and gooey. “Well, that’s good. I think I love you both too. But we’ll have to have lots more sex to make sure.”

Romeo laughed and bent to kiss her.

Epilogue

Vicious stood in the shade of a large oak tree, staring at the man who had taken everything from him. His hopes, his heart were completely destroyed. He’d wanted his own club, with his love beside him. But Bizerk was dead and Boone Tempest was the reason.

The other men he’d collected had scattered, running back to their old club in Omaha, no doubt relaying the sad tale of how the Men of Hell had kicked their asses. The MOH had now become a formidable club that many would think twice about crossing. Everything he’d planned for and worked hard to achieve was gone.

Something snapped inside him as he stared at Boone. The need for vengeance clawed at his insides. Boone got on his bike, his ever-present shadow, Gabby, beside him. A young girl got on the back of Gabby’s bike and held on tight as they zoomed away from the house.

Perhaps Boone’s big silent friend was the way to avenge Bizerk. Retribution would be slow, prolonged, but find it he would. He just had to wait for the right opportunity.

Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

Red Wolves Motorcycle Club: Along Came Merrie

Beth D. Carter

Excerpt

Chapter One

Merrie eased up on the gas when she finally accepted the truth. She was lost. Miles from nowhere, she looked down at her gas tank light flickering dangerously low. She dug around on the passenger seat until she found her phone then illuminated it to check her bars.

Of course. Dead.

Story of her life—dead end jobs, dead end future. She’d been taking care of herself since before she should’ve and the only job she’d been able to get at age fifteen was working on a dairy farm. It was nice but it didn’t pay all that much, and she’d gotten tired of her ass being grabbed each time she came by with the coffee carafe. The idea of moving to Cheyenne had sounded good at the time but now—lost in the middle of Wyoming—somehow it didn’t seem all that smart. Why was it that none of the roads had marker signs?

She’d gotten turned around at that last pit stop—that’s what had happened. Too many roads branched out for the truckers and she’d become confused about which road she’d been on. She was always doing stupid things like that. How hard was it to follow a road?

Apparently, very hard.

It only added to the melancholy lingering in her soul. She had wanted to start over, begin a new chapter in her life, so she’d donated most of her stuff to charity, keeping only the items that were important. It had depressed the hell out of her when she’d discovered all her worldly possessions had fitted in her trunk. It wasn’t as if she’d had a happy childhood full of memorabilia and crap. Hell, she’d barely graduated high school.

A glow in the distant sky lifted her spirits. A glow meant people, civilization. Hopefully it also meant a gas station or maybe someone who had information on how far the next one was—and food would be a plus. She hadn’t eaten since the truck stop a few hours ago.

She pressed harder on the gas pedal. The quicker she reached the lights, the quicker she’d get back on the right track. Merrie kept her fingers crossed that she wasn’t too far from her destination. Who knew driving could be so exhausting?

Her focus stayed on the lights and, as she grew closer, the shape of a large barn converted into a bar drew closer. Dozens of motorcycles surrounded it, big silver and black monstrosities that pushed a slither of unease down her spine. The only bikers she’d really heard of were the made up ones on television and they were dangerous bad asses. Plus, being a woman had her naturally distrustful of bars. There were too many horror stories where a girl went into a bar never to be seen again, and this one held bikers. She slowed upon noticing an old public telephone booth toward the back of the building. Never mind that it belonged in a museum—relief poured through her. She wouldn’t have to go inside to ask for directions. She could simply call the police to help her.

Merrie flicked off her headlights as she pulled into the parking lot then headed around back near the telephone booth. She didn’t see anyone, so she turned off her car and opened the door. Getting out, she looked around and took a step toward the call box when she heard a man laugh. She swung around. In the shadows of the building, two men talked and shook hands. They wore leather vests with many patches on them but one of the men had a band of red running along the bottom of his while the other didn’t. The second man faced her, the patch on his vest white with a red devil and two Ds on it.

Suddenly, the bearded man who faced her turned his head and looked directly at her. He tapped the other guy on the shoulder and he spun on his heel too. The second biker, his goatee cut close to his chin, glared at her like she was something disgusting on the bottom of his shoe. Seriously creeped out, Merrie debated if she should get back in her car and just leave. The telephone stood only a few feet away. Without knowing where she was, she had no way to judge how far the next gas stop would be. Did she really want to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere? Mind made up, she pushed her misgivings away as she hurried over to the phone.

She picked up the receiver, heard a dial tone and breathed a sigh of relief. It worked! She dug in her jeans pocket for some coins and was just about to put them into the phone, when a hand twisted in her hair and pulled sharply. Needle-like pain pricked her scalp and Merrie raised her hands instinctively, trying to alleviate the throb. The phone receiver fell to dangle at the bottom of the phone box.

“Ouch!”

The man holding her hair jerked her away from the phone booth. He twisted his hand, bringing her head up so she stared into his face. Tears flooded her eyes.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Let go of me!” she yelled, trying to free herself. This wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with this type of torment. Her mother had liked to hurt her whenever she was in her drunken rages.

The biker backhanded her. White-hot heat exploded in her cheek as the force of the hit spun her around. Dirt filled her mouth as she landed hard on her front and tears filled her eyes when her nerve endings processed the pain. Fear replaced every single coherent thought and instinct in Merrie’s mind. She pushed herself up and glanced at the man, holding her hands out in a pleading gesture for him to leave her alone.

“I asked who you are,” he said coldly. “I didn’t ask for a fucking attitude.”

“M-my name is M-Merrie,” she whimpered, spitting out dirt and blood. Her teeth had cut the inside of her mouth. “P-please don’t hurt me.”

“Merrie. Well, Merrie, who were you calling?”

“N-no one,” she said.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her up to stand in front of him. He bent her arm behind her until she whimpered and tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight.

“Now why don’t I believe you?” He shook her. “Were you calling the club? Are you someone’s old lady? Or just a fucking spy?”

“I don’t know any club. Please let me go!”

“Who were you calling?” he demanded again. This time he brought his hand back in a fist.

“The police!” she cried, cringing.

He leered in her face. The stale stench of cigarettes and the sour fermentation of beer on his breath activated her gag reflex. But she swallowed down the bile. “I’ve got the police in my back pocket, you stupid bitch. They can’t help you.”

“I’m lost,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I swear. I was just calling them because I’m lost!”

“Well, shit,” someone else said.

Merrie cracked her eyes open. The other man with the gray beard looked at her with a mixture of pity and resolution. Her heart pounded as fear skyrocketed to terror and she knew her life was in jeopardy. Once again, she tugged her arm, trying to break the tight grip on her wrist.

“You fucked up, Axe,” the bearded man said. “And I don’t know if she’d have someone come looking for her.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Axe snarled.

“Make sure no one finds her body.”

“No!” Merrie screamed. “I won’t tell anyone anything. I swear. I-I’ve never been here. I don’t even know where I am. Please don’t hurt me. Please!”

“Shut up,” Axe snarled. He drew back his fist again and smashed it into her face.

Her vision faded and she gave in to the beckoning darkness.

* * * *

Awareness slowly crept back to Merrie. She snapped her eyes open and found herself in the back seat of her car and with her hands tied in front of her. Pain pulsed through the left side of her face but she bit back a sob. Although she didn’t know how long she’d been out of it, she was still alive.

She tried to see who was driving, but could only make out the driver wasn’t Axe. The person had long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and a tattoo of a snake on his arm that wrapped from the wrist up into the sleeve of his white T-shirt. Trying to be as sneaky as possible, she began moving her hands about, testing the bonds tying them together. Whoever had bound her hadn’t done a very effective job, probably because they expected her to stay unconscious. The rope was loose and she wiggled her wrists even more, pulling as hard as she could without alerting the driver to her movements. A stinging burn chaffed the skin but she didn’t care. If she couldn’t get free then she was dead, so she strained and tugged carefully and moments later, she’d freed one hand. A sense of elation jolted through her, pumping up her already high level of adrenaline.

She only had one shot at escaping and she knew it was going to hurt like hell when she fell out of the car. Part of her wanted to stay put and try to reason with the men again, but the common sense part of her said that if she stayed there, she would die. Why they wanted her dead she didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. No one knew where she was and she had no one to rely on either.

By the sound of the car and the way it rolled along, she estimated they were traveling about sixty miles per hour. She couldn’t think about the impact of asphalt against her skin at that speed, because something would most likely break.

It was better than the alternative—death.