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Holiday Havoc (Reckless Bastards MC Book 7)
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All I want for Christmas is to score a new hook up . . .
First, I’ll have to deal with the cartel punk she’s been hangin’ with.
Making the ladies holler for more and fighting the MC war is what me and the club does best.
Love filthy talking bikers who can drop your panties with just a whisper? You got it!
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Prologue – Stitch
“Damn woman, you trying to wear me out?” Marisol was a woman made for a good hard fuck. Just over five feet with big double D tits, a tiny waist and the kind of ass a man could hold on to while he rammed her from behind. She made my regular trips to the Reno area worth the long ride on my bike.
Her deep laugh was husky with a touch of smoke and even though my cock was still wet with her juices, she was ready for more. “I’m not trying. Not yet anyway.”
She turned to face me and slid her hand down my chest, nails scraping along the way, doing her best to get my cock as hard as a steel rod. She dipped her head and licked a trail of heat from my nipples straight to my dick. “Part of you is ready.”
That little purr did it to me or maybe it was those thick lips that wrapped around me and slid up and down. Hot and wet, she took all of me. Deep. Again and again she ate my cock like it was the only thing she needed to survive. I closed my eyes, hips flexing as she sucked me like a pro. “Fuck, yeah.” I could barely get the words out when she swallowed around the tip of my cock. The girl knew how to treat a dick and that was only my second favorite thing about her.
Being with Marisol was easy because she didn’t expect more than a good time and a great fuck when I was able to make it up here. But damn my cock missed her when I had to go back home to Mayhem. Especially when she took me deep as my cock hardened and swelled, swallowing every drop when I shot my load down her throat. She pulled back with a grin, licking her lips. “Someone’s been listening to me?”
“Hey, if a chick tells me to drink more fruit juice because it makes my jizz taste sweeter, I’ll fucking drink a gallon of that shit every day. The way you give head, I’d live on that shit if you asked me to.”
She laughed again and collapsed onto the bed beside me, one hand resting on my thigh and that was the only physical connection between us. Marisol wasn’t a sentimental woman. She didn’t cuddle and she never gave me sweet kisses when I left, only kisses so fiery I had to have her one final time before I said goodbye. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
We both fell silent and that was another thing I liked about Marisol. She didn’t feel the need to fill every silence with words. With questions about feelings and all the shit that only complicated things. No, she was cool as hell and so chill that I found myself wanting to see her more and more.
Too bad she had secrets of her own.
“So when are you gonna come visit me in Mayhem?”
She sighed that disappointed sigh that I swore women took a class to perfect. “I would love to but my boss is kind of a dick.”
That didn’t sound right, in fact, it sounded like an excuse. “If you don’t want to come, just say so. My feelings won’t get hurt, darlin’.”
“I do want to but things are…” she trailed off in search of a word but I already knew what it was. Exactly what I went out of my way to avoid.
“Yeah.” She sighed again and propped her head up in her hand, long dark brown hair cascading all around her shoulders, making her honey brown skin look damn near white by contrast. “I started working as a bookkeeper when I was in school getting a degree in accounting.”
“You’re a college girl?” I teased because the news was, well news to me. We’d only met about two months ago and had seen each other a handful of times . We knew more about each other’s bodies than we did about our respective lives. “I should have known with your vocabulary.”
“It’s called reading, Stitch. Try it some time.” Those full lips pulled up into a sultry grin that made me want to take her again. Right now, though, my cock was still spent.
“Hey, I read,” I retorted.
“What Bikers and Babes or something?”
“Yeah, it has really great articles or haven’t you heard?” I replied.
She smiled but it wasn’t her usual. “Okay,” I said reluctantly. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Fuck. I hoped it wasn’t feelings.
“Well, I work for a grow operation that expanded as soon as states started legalizing pot. My boss is…not your average boss, let’s just say that for now. So I started working there a few years ago and…well, I haven’t been able to leave. Yet.”
“That sounds ominous as fuck, Marisol.”
She huffed out a bitter laugh that said more than her words ever could. “Try living it. Anyway, I’d love to get the fuck out of Reno for a while. I really would. But I can’t.”