Mad Delights Page 8

  A round of hellos greeted her. There were probably about ten women altogether, most dressed like Trix. Each had a certain tiredness in her face or eyes that talked of a hard life, but all smiled their greeting.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m actually a surgical technician.”

  “Which man is yours?” one woman asked.

  “Uh. Romeo. Maybe Dax.”

  Eyebrows went up, but instead of any snide comments the women chuckled. “Well, brother like brother, I suppose,” another said with a laugh. “I’m Petunia.”

  “Like brother?” Chloe asked, confused.

  Petunia nodded. “Romeo’s brother, Branch, is in a ménage relationship. He, Charlie and their woman, Lily, just had a baby girl a few months ago. I think there’s a picture of Ailey somewhere. She’s just the prettiest little girl, but her name is certainly a mouthful. Ailey O’Day-Barrigan-Earenflight. Poor thing. She’s never gonna to learn how to spell it.”

  “Here,” someone said.

  A picture was thrust into Chloe’s hand. She stared at a little baby who had light mocha-colored skin, silky dark hair and blue eyes. Petunia was correct. Ailey was beautiful.

  “Where are the men?” Chloe asked as she handed back the picture.

  “Church,” Trix said. “We lost another member tonight.”

  The women nodded somberly.

  “Whatever is happening around here is scary,” Petunia said. “I’ve thought about taking the kids and visiting my mother in Arizona, but Wrench doesn’t like that idea. He says he’d miss us too much.”

  “We need to find whoever is hurting the club,” Chloe replied.

  A murmur of agreement went through the women.

  “Come on, Chloe,” Trix said with a wave. “I’ll take you to Romeo’s room. You can freshen up.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  With a wave at the women, she followed Trix up the stairs and down the hallway to one of the rooms at the end. When she opened the door, she saw a room in desperate need of cleaning. The bed sheets were rumpled in a pile, and Chloe could only imagine the bodily fluids attached to the cotton. Clothes lay scattered everywhere and the trashcan overflowed. A spoiled smell permeated the air, causing her to wrinkle her nose.

  She looked at Trix. “Where would the cleaning products be? If I’m sleeping here tonight I’m not sleeping in someone’s dried up cum.”

  * * * *

  Romeo was the last man to walk into church. Every patched-in member crammed into the room waiting to hear what he had to say. And fuck if he knew what to say, so he sat in his new chair and glanced at each man.

  “Drifter is dead,” he told them, confirming the news. “So are Candy Box and the Whiskey Lick Her. The last take from Friday night put us at about four grand, but out of that Sheriff Wilson has been paid, plus we had to pay Frank for a decent burial for Babyface.”

  “So what’s left?” Bandit asked.

  “Not much,” he answered.

  He stared at the member who’d been a loyal friend to Shepard. Something shifted in the man’s eyes right before he looked away.

  “Someone is after our town.” He sent a sly glance toward Bandit, but the man didn’t react.

  “Who?” Sioux demanded.

  “Not sure yet. The Shanks are gone, so whoever is trying for a hostile takeover now has their eyes set directly on us.”

  “And seems to be succeeding,” Bandit muttered.

  Romeo moved like lightning and fisted Bandit’s cut, yanking him up with his one good arm. “You have a problem?”

  Bandit looked from him to the other men around the table.

  Dax stood watching them. Waiting.

  Slowly, Bandit shook his head, and Romeo let him slink back to his seat.

  “Enough of this shit,” Romeo spat. Fury tore through him and he didn’t know where to direct it. It ate at him inside, like a cancer growing in his soul. “We lost two men. Candy Box. Our fucking bar. And we’re sitting here with our thumbs up our asses.”

  “There’re only so many places someone can be holed up in Bair,” Dax said. “I say tomorrow some of us go out and find them.”

  “The only other one percenters nearby are the Mutts,” Boone added. “I’ll call them up, see if they know anything.”

  “Okay,” Romeo replied. “For now, we keep the families here, behind the wall. Safe. Agreed?”

  Every member nodded, and Romeo banged his gavel, ending the meeting. The men filed quietly out of the room, leaving him behind. He grimaced as he moved his arm. A soft knock sounded on the door and he saw Chloe standing on the threshold holding her black bag.

  “I figured you needed another shot,” she said.

  He nodded. She’d only taken a few steps toward him when he held up his hand, halting her.

  “Close the door.”

  She lifted her eyebrows in surprise, but she turned and shut the heavy door, enclosing them into the large conference room. She studied him.

  “I need to leave in the morning.”

  He shook his head. “We’re on lockdown.”

  “Yeah, so I’ve heard. I’ve been talking with the women. The old ladies.” She set the bag on a table nearby, dug through it then pulled out the vial of medicine and a new, wrapped syringe. “I work at the hospital, Romeo. If I don’t show, they’ll report me missing.”

  “They’ll just think you skipped for the day.”

  “It doesn’t work like that.” She wiped the top of the vial with an alcohol pad before turning it upside down to insert the syringe into the rubber top and draw out the liquid. “I have to show up.”

  He sighed. “Dax and some of the others are leaving to chase a lead. You can leave with them.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  He eyed the syringe. “If you’re not a doctor, how’d you learn all this medical stuff?”

  “I spent a lot of my teenage years in a hospital,” she replied. “When I got out of high school, I worked as an orderly then as a pharmacy tech. My schooling was slightly convoluted. First, I got my venipuncture certification, then I went through medical assistance school before going back to study surgical training. I mean, I obviously don’t know all the stuff surgeons know, but, truthfully, this stuff isn’t hard to pick up.”

  “Most people would be squeamish at this stuff,” he said, using his one hand to air quote the words.

  She swiped a small patch of skin on his biceps with the alcohol pad and stuck the needle in. He didn’t wince. When she was done, she disposed of the syringe into the red container resting in her bag. Then she checked the bandage covering his arm and secured the sling.

  “Not sure if you noticed,” she said, “but I’m not exactly the squeamish type.”

  “Granted. How did you shoot those men?”

  Since he’d sat, he had to look up at her. Their eyes met briefly, and she gently, lovingly touched his face. She traced over his brow, his nose, his cheekbones. Her fingertips settled on his lips.

  “Have you accepted my proposal?” she asked, ignoring his question.

  “How can you get the weapons?”

  A small smile twisted one corner of her mouth. “I guess we’re at a stalemate.”

  “We don’t have to be, Chloe, but I need certain answers before I can just blindly lead my men down this path. Everything has a price, and although spending a month in bed with you sounds pretty damn good, I can’t help but wonder what the real cost is.”

  She teased his lips apart, and he sucked her finger inside. He ran his tongue over the digit, playing. Chloe closed her eyes and gave a little moan. When he released her finger, she opened her eyes to stare at him. Arousal turned her sable eyes into glossy onyx, and the whole mystery of who she was caused his own lust to burn brighter. But then the morphine kicked in and made his dick as limp as a wet noodle.

  “You gave me more morphine this time, didn’t you?” he asked thickly.

  “I thought you could use a good night’s sleep,” she murmured and bent to press her mouth against
his. “I’ve come so far to be with you, Romeo. You’re mine, you know. All mine.”

  He frowned. The drug was sucking him down fast. “No, I’m not.”

  “You will be.”

  “And Dax?”

  She sighed and pulled back. “He confuses me. I’ve never wanted two men at one time before.”

  He grinned, and somewhere in his brain, he knew it had to be a goofy grin. He really loved this drug. “Luckily for you, me and Dax can please a woman. Together. Like a sandwich. Get it?”

  She smirked. “Yeah, I get it.”

  “Fuck, the world is spinning.”

  “And that’s your cue to go to bed.”

  He stood, and she slid an arm around his waist. As they left the chapel, Romeo concentrated on getting to his room before he face planted. The stairs were tricky, but with Chloe’s help, he finally stumbled into his room and flopped onto his bed. He was only vaguely aware of soft hands stripping him. Caressing him. Lips over his body. A tongue licking his nipples. He was almost unconscious and she was feeling him up. That was depraved and sick, and had the tables been reversed, she would no doubt be ready to castrate him when she gained consciousness.

  So why did he like it so much?

  Just before he completely fell into la-la land, he thought he heard her murmur, “You’re better in person than in a photograph.”

  Chapter Ten

  Vicious stomped into the trailer he and his men were currently occupying, heading right to where the stockpile of liquor set on the dining room table. The smell of sour bodies, sweet marijuana and old takeout permeated the air. He wrinkled his nose. They’d only been there two weeks and already the place had turned into a typical fucking clubhouse.

  However, this was not the clubhouse he wanted. He coveted what the Men of Hell had—the compound and the trade route. It was time the Double Guns rose from their place in obscurity and became the outlaw gang they were meant to be. He and Bizerk had worked hard to gather men who agreed with their standards of no morals and even less tolerance, and, finally, opportunity was ripe for the picking. Only two men stood in their way. He’d thought they’d had Romeo the other night, but it had been just a fucking prospect. Still, he had made sure to utilize the dead man’s body.

  The burning whorehouse had been Bizerk’s idea.

  He grabbed a bottle of vodka and headed up the stairs, intending to get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow would be their final assault against the Men of Hell, and he would probably stay up all night long to party and piss on the bodies of Romeo Barrigan and Boone Tempest. Shepard had been a fool. He had lacked the vision to hold onto his club, but where he’d failed, Vicious was determined to be smarter, tougher and stronger.

  At the top of the stairs, he heard a moan and paused. Another moan drifted toward him. He’d recognize the sounds Bizerk made during sex anywhere. After unscrewing the cap on the bottle of vodka, he took a deep drink. Fortification. He was with her. That goddamn bitch, Shantel. If it was the last thing he did, he’d make sure she ended up in some unmarked grave far away from his and Bizerk’s empire.

  The doorway to Bizerk’s room stood open, so he leaned against the frame to watch the show. Shantel kneeled between Bizerk’s spread thighs, bobbing her head up and down. His fingers threaded through her hair and guided the blow job. The musky scent of pussy and sex lined the air. Jealousy ripped through Vicious and he had to fight against the urge to shoot her brains out right then and there.

  He took another drink, and Bizerk opened his hazel eyes. A shock of light-colored hair fell across Bizerk’s forehead, and Vicious wanted to finger-comb it away. Their gazes met. Locked. A huge grin spread over Bizerk’s mouth and he waggled his eyebrows at Vicious. He glanced down at Shantel before flickering back up and nodding, giving permission to join in if he wanted.

  “Look at my girl,” Bizerk bragged. “Doesn’t she have the best ass? She’s so fucking hot, Vicious. Too hot not to share with my best friend.”

  Vicious hated Shantel, but she did serve a purpose—one of them being that she let him get as close to Bizerk as he possibly could. So he took another long drink before setting the bottle on a bookshelf and moved toward the ass pointing in his direction. He had no compunction about using Shantel like a whore and unzipped his jeans to bring out his hard cock. One look from Bizerk and he was always hard, not that he’d ever let the other man know about his true desire. In fact, there wasn’t a time he could remember when he didn’t want his best friend.

  Vicious quickly spread her ass cheeks apart, ignoring her squeal of protest. Bizerk tightened his grip in her hair and pushed her back down on his dick. Gagging noises filled the room as Bizerk stuffed his cock down her throat. Some muffled words came from Shantel, but they were indecipherable, probably more words of objection. Shantel wasn’t the type of girl who liked surprises. Vicious ran a finger over Shantel’s slit, discovering that she was more than wet for penetration, but it wasn’t her pussy he wanted. Pussy no longer did it for him. So he grabbed the condom that was on the bed, no doubt meant for Bizerk when he’d had enough of being blown, and sheathed his cock. He fingered Shantel’s asshole, using some of her own cream to slick up her hole. Not that he really cared if she was as dry as the Mojave Desert, but still, he needed some lube. His gaze clashed with Bizerk’s and held then, bringing forth all the unrequited lust he felt for the man, he surged into Shantel’s anus.

  She let out a scream around the dick in her mouth and tried to jerk away, but he clamped onto her hips to hold her still. He didn’t care about her, didn’t care if he was hurting her. She was there for only one purpose and that was to be the vessel he needed to breach the gap with the man he loved.

  Soon she relaxed under his thrusts, and as he fucked Shantel, Vicious stared straight into Bizerk’s eyes. He knew Bizerk loved this, practically raping the chick between them because Shantel sure as hell wasn’t having any fun. Like Vicious gave a shit. Bizerk fucked her mouth and Vicious fucked her ass. When they came, it was almost as if they were together. No one between them, no judgment or censure or secrets.

  His dick softened and slipped out of Shantel. Vicious fell back, his heart beating furiously. Shantel scrambled away from them, wiping her mouth. She reached for her jeans and hastily donned them, all the while glaring at Vicious, so he flipped her off. When she stormed out of the room, Bizerk chuckled.

  “I’m going to have to kiss her ass now,” he said. “But damn, that was hot, wasn’t it? Love it when we fuck a chick together. It would be even wilder if she wasn’t into it.”

  Vicious wasn’t about to remind him that Shantel hadn’t exactly been into it, but whatever. She was just a club whore and all she was good for was having orifices for cock.

  He and Bizerk lounged around, both their dicks still out. Vicious looked at the bookshelf, wishing the vodka wasn’t so far away. He was so relaxed he didn’t want to move.

  “We’re all set for tomorrow night, right?” Bizerk asked.

  Vicious nodded. “Just after midnight, our man on the inside will kill the lights. We’ll get in, rip apart Romeo and Boone then the Men of Hell will be ours.”

  “Awesome,” Bizerk murmured. He yawned. “A great orgasm always tires me.”

  Reluctantly, Vicious stood. He pulled off the used condom and tossed it into the trash before stuffing his spent cock back into his pants. “I’ll let you get to bed.”

  “Yeah,” Bizerk mumbled as he crawled up the bed to his pillow. He hadn’t bothered to zip up his jeans. “See ya in the morning.”

  Vicious grabbed his bottle of vodka, got one last glimpse of Bizerk and closed the door behind him. He wished he could stay, but he’d freak the man out if they ended up spooning. So he did what he always did—he walked away and quickly pushed his feelings aside.

  Shantel waited for him in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. He so didn’t have the stomach for her theatrics.

  “You hurt me, asshole,” she said. “I don’t like getting hurt.”


  In a flash, he shot out his fist and punched her across the jaw. She collapsed in a heap on the floor, cradling her face. She let out a painful cry as tears poured down her cheeks. Shantel stared up at him in horror.

  “I am the fucking boss of this club,” he told her. “You are club pussy. You disrespect me again and I’ll put a bullet between those pretty eyes of yours. Got it?”

  She nodded shakily. He spat on her then took another swallow of vodka as he walked toward his room.

  Chapter Eleven

  Chloe sat for a long time watching Romeo sleep. It was difficult to take her eyes off him. Happiness and contentment infused every cell of her body and she could’ve stayed for days just looking at him. She’d done it. She’d managed to find a way into his bed. Granted, he was currently passed out, hopefully dreaming sexy things about her, but still, here she was. Reclining next to him. Touching his face. His body. Surprisingly, he was almost tattoo free. His club symbol rested on his left pectoral muscle and the word ‘Freedom’ ran down his right side, from his armpit to his hip, in gothic script. The rest of his skin remained bare. A tan line separated his well-fitted jeans from his lower portion. She spread her fingers through the soft dusting of hair on his chest.

  She’d never been as glad of her shooting skills as she was this evening. It hadn’t been her intention to kill anyone, but a bullet in the right place had certainly maimed the Shanks enough to stop their attack. The idiots may have had the advantage, but they hadn’t been very smart about hiding. It’d been easy to find them in the moonlight and protect Romeo.

  And Dax.

  Why did the club enforcer always creep into her thoughts?

  She’d come to Bair for one man, not two, but she couldn’t deny that every time she was around Dax her body tingled. With a large sigh, she flopped onto her back and stared up at the dark ceiling. She should sleep. It was more than late and the clubhouse had settled down a long time ago, but restlessness surged through her. She was aroused, and with Romeo passed out beside her, there really wasn’t anything she could do. Her vibrator was back in her apartment and she didn’t feel like using her fingers when such a fine man lay next to her.