Although Rev was six foot four and a wall of muscle, he was really a tenderhearted pussy when it came to most things. He was the gentle giant who loved puppies and kids and that kinda rainbows-and-hearts shit. Most of the time, he had too much goodness and integrity to fit into our world.
“Yeah, well, that’s the reason no one voted him into Preach’s seat when he died. They knew he wouldn’t be able to do shit as Sergeant at Arms when it came to being a hard ass.”
“True,” Bishop replied, as he slid across his bike’s seat.
After putting on my helmet, I kick-started the engine. There was no other feeling in my life quite like the roar of the engine beneath me. The only peace I found was on the road. Although I now had the support of a loving family, I still felt like a loner—an outsider still searching for a place to make his own. Only the road offered a place for me to be my true self.
The road was what had brought me to my adoptive family. At thirteen, I’d stolen my first bike to escape one of many horrificfoster homes. Over the next two years, I went from town to town living a hand-to-mouth existence.
Next to the road, the ring was where I also found freedom. A way to rid myself of the hurt and rage burning through my veins by busting noses and cracking jaws. Big for my age, I fought illegally in an underground circuit, thinking no one in the fucking world cared about me.
But I was wrong.
Fate is a funny motherfucker. Once upon a time, my mother had attended Preach’s church. In fact, Preach and Mama Beth had hidden her and me from my father when he was on one of his drunken rampages before he was sent to prison. We’d run away in the middle of the night when my mother found out he was being released.
It was probably the worst thing she could have done. She might still be alive today if she had stayed. After all, we had shelter and protection when we were with Preach.
The angry part of me wanted to tell Preach to go fuck himself when he offered me his home. I had no love for holy men like him. As if he sensed that, he had rolled up his sleeves to show me his heavily tattooed arms.
He’d given me his story—the good, the bad, and the ugly--and I never looked back. I once again returned to Preach’s house. He then legally adopted me, and I became the oldest of the Malloy boys. For the most part, Rev and Bishop didn’t give me too much shit. Sure, we got into a few scuffles and scrapes. You can’t add in a teenager to a family with an eight and eleven-year-old and not expect problems.
But as the years passed, the more we became like true brothers. And although I missed my mother like crazy, I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to be in my life than Elizabeth Malloy, or Mama Liz, as I called her.
When we got to the compound, there were a few scattered bikes here and there. It was only four, and members didn’t really start hanging around until they were done with their straight jobs. Years ago when the cotton mill went bust, Preach had the business sense to buy the property. At the time, it wasn’t for the Raiders. No, he was holy rolling then and focused on his ministry. After growing up in the MC world, he’d found Jesus in prison when he was just twenty. When he got out three years later, he buried his biker past and became a Pentecostal preacher.
That’s where he’d met my adopted mom—she was a fresh-faced, pure of heart and body, eighteen-year-old beauty. The daughter of a church elder. She saw him as the lost, black sheep she could lead into the fold.
But even after he married the virtuous woman and started spreading the good word, the biker bred into him raged and clawed to be free. Then two years after I came to live with him, his preaching ended in a true blaze of glory.
That was the night he killed one of his own flock.
I’d never been given the entire story, but I did know it had to do with the man hurting Rev somehow. Preach didn’t do any time—instead, the transient man just “disappeared.” Most of the congregation had been made up of truly lost souls without hope or family, so it was easy to bury him in the deep woods behind the compound without anyone asking questions.
After that night, the biker emerged strong and proud, which caused Preach and Mama Liz’s marriage to go down in flames. They separated after that, but they never divorced. My mother, along with my brothers and me, stayed in the village row house while Preach slept at the clubhouse that had once been his church.
While she loathed the biker world, Mama Liz watched helplessly as each of us followed in Preach’s footsteps bypatching into the Raiders. I think the three of us boys kept her constantly on her knees in prayer. But even though we were bad ass bikers, we still loved and respected the hell out of her. She was the best mother a guy could ever ask for, and she never treated me any differently than her blood sons.
Once I eased my bike to a stop in front of the clubhouse, I pulled off my helmet and hung it from one of the handlebars. I didn’t have much to say to Bishop or the two prospects who stood outside the clubhouse’s front door. No, I had a singular focus at the moment, and that was getting some ass. After handling a job, I needed a release, and sex was usually how I handled it. With a determined step, I headed inside.
Guns and Roses blared from the jukebox. My gaze flicked around the room, searching for one thing in particular. Or onepersonin particular. And then I found her. From behind the bar, Cheyenne Bates bent over the worn, mahogany counter, washing down the spilled beer and wiping away the crushed peanuts and chips. Her long, blonde hair was swept back in a ponytail. At the perfect view of her ample cleavage, my dick pounded against my zipper. As if she could sense me watching her, she jerked her head up, her intense blue eyes meeting my gaze. A slow, seductive smile slid across her lips.
Holding up a hand, I crooked a finger at her. She tossed the rag on the counter, and then hurried around the side of the bar. She teetered on her tall but sexy-as-hell heels as she closed the gap between us. Throwing her arms around my neck, she then hoisted herself up to wrap her legs around my waist. “Hey baby, I missed you.”
“Hmm, I missed you, too,” I replied, dipping my head to nuzzle the tops of her breasts. I steered us past the other guys and down the hallway. Once I got to my room, I kept one hand kneading Cheyenne’s ass while the other went to open the door.
I’d been fucking Cheyenne almost exclusively for the last year. Occasionally, a new piece of ass might turn my head when I was on a run or at a rally. But I liked the fact that Cheyenne knew exactly how to blow my mind as I was blowing my load. She wasn’t one of those chicks who expected you to get them off several times before they even thought about touching your dick. She always took care of me first. I like that shit.
Once I set her down on her feet, she sank to her knees in front of me. Her fingers came to my waist to loosen my belt and then unbutton and unzip my jeans. When she sprang my cock, she wasted no time sliding her lips down my shaft until I was deep-throating her. “Fuck,” I groaned, my head falling back with the out-of-this-world sensations of Cheyenne’s incredible head-giving skills. The woman had a mouth like a fucking Hoover.
Taking her head in my hands, I began to flex my hips and fuck her mouth. It wasn’t long until my balls were tightening up, and my cum was shooting into her mouth. She sucked and licked up every drop. I stared down at her with a lazy smile. “You sure know how to treat your man good, baby.”
“Mmm, I love it. My panties are fucking soaked now just from sucking you off.”
The fact that she could almost out dirty talk me was another thing that made me hot for Cheyenne. Sure, she’d been a crow eater for years and years, and she’d been broken in by every single guy in the club, including Preacher Man. Her experience made her worth my time. Of course, since I’d been fucking just her for the last year, she had it in her head I was going to make her my old lady. But that was never going to happen. Not with her or any of the other crow eaters in the club—not any girl. Period.
Grabbing her shoulders, I drew her off her knees. “I think it’s time I felt just how wet I got you.”
“Yes, please.”
