Cock Blocker (BRRMC Roadhouse Tales Book 3)
Cock Blocker
BRRMC Roadhouse Tales
Glenna Maynard
© 2019 Glenna Maynard
This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, business, establishments, locals, or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, business, organizations, or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
BRRMC Roadhouse Tales
Devil Dick
Pecker Wrecker
Cock Blocker
Cock Blocker
Patience is a pawn in a dangerous game … one of life and death.
Women are turning up dead at the hands of a serial killer in Drag Creek. Jagger knew the moment he glanced her way she is meant to be his. He’ll do anything to have her on her knees begging him please.
Even if it means spilling blood.
Can Jagger save the only woman capable of taming his bad boy ways?
*This hot to the point Roadhouse Tale features all new characters in the Black Rebel Riders MC along with some appearances from long time favorites. It is not necessary to read any other biker series to enjoy this ride.
Contents
Cock Blocker
BRRMC Roadhouse Tales reading order
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Acknowledgements
About Glenna
Available Now
Chapter 1
Jagger
Taking a pull of my beer, I stare across the flames of the bonfire at the scene unfolding. Choke has the chick he brought by the nape of her neck forcing her to her knees in the dirt. “I told you that riding with me doesn’t come free, bitch.”
Several of my brothers and their old ladies are watching the scene the stupid fuck is making. Choke’s a nomad here by invitation only. Every year, first weekend in August we rent out the campgrounds for a few days. It’s a chance for the club to congregate and have a good time. If Prez were awake, he’d tell him to put his knees to the breeze. Rebel took his old lady to the cabin an hour ago. He’s either balls deep in her pussy or snoring by now. I’m not dumb enough to interrupt or wake him up over some pussy.
Finishing my beer, I toss the bottle into the fire. Pulling out a fresh pack of Marlboros from my jacket pocket, I pack the box against the palm of my hand and rip the cellophane wrapper off. Seeing someone get their dick sucked is nothing new, but what ain’t cool is forcing a bitch. That shit doesn’t fly around here. What that sick fuck does in private is his business, but when he puts it out here in the open in front of everyone, that makes it my problem.
Pinching the end of my cigarette between my lips I light up and move closer. The heat of the flames lick up my neck. Vegas gives me a chin lift and his woman, Sweet Ass Tina, nuzzles her cheek to his throat. Camreigh and Saw are on the other side of them neckin’. They are expecting their second kid, his third. He keeps his old lady pregnant. Fucker is creating his own mini army.
“What’d you say to me, cunt?” Choke forces the woman’s head up roughly by her chin.
“I said fuck you. I’m not sucking your pathetic worm of a cock,” the chick on her knees sasses him and I chuckle. The sassiness behind her voice awakens something inside me. A desire to have her kneeling to pay worship to my cock, and I’ve not even fully seen her face.
His hand flies back and whips across her face. The woman’s head jerks sideways. Choke towers over her and she smiles as blood trickles down her split lip. “Is that all you got?”
Fuck. She’s going to get herself hurt if she doesn’t shut that mouth. But fuck all I want to do is be the one who fills it.
Inhaling smoke through my lungs, I watch to see how the bastard is gonna react. I should step in and I will, but I gotta have a damn good reason to rescind Rebel’s invitation without his order. Even if I want her for my own, I need a better reason than my urge to take her for myself to start a fight.
Removing his belt, Choke wraps it around her throat and tightens it. “You’re gonna gag on it now, cunt.” Pulling his dick out he strokes it.
“Just give me a reason,” I mutter under my breath. The only dick she’ll be gagging on if I have anything to say about it is mine.
“Open wide.” Choke grins moving closer to her face, tugging on the end of his belt. Her eyes widen with tears. Fuck that. Fuck him. He’s not putting his dick in her mouth.
I flick my cigarette to the ground, charge into his side, taking him down hard to the dirt hearing the crack of one of his ribs in the process. The asshole has no idea what’s happened until I’m on top of him drilling my fist into his face. Pop. Thwack. I pummel him.
“That feel good, bro? You like getting slapped around? Huh?” Slap. I backhand him. Slamming my fist into him doesn’t ease the woman’s pain or humiliation but it sure as fuck makes me feel better. Blood seeps from the cuts my ring made on his eyebrow and top lip.
“Want me to shove my dick down your throat. You want to gag on it, huh?”
Choke groans, pushing against me as I straddle him on the ground. I get in two more licks. Striking him in the ribs. He coughs. “The fuck, you cock blocker.” His fist connects with my side as he struggles to get a hold of me. I rear back and headbutt him, bringing my head down with enough force to break his nose. Crunch. I’ve never liked him but now I want to fuckin’ end him. Nothing triggers me like someone putting their hands on a woman and especially one I want. He made his first mistake when he shoved her on her knees. His second was smacking her. Third was attempting to rape her mouth. Now he knows not to do that shit again. Not in my presence. Not fuckin’ ever.
I push up off him. He cups his hands over his nose. “You’re a dead man, Jag. Fuckin’ dead,” he mutters.
In response I pull my leg up and stomp his ass three times as he attempts to roll away. “Keep running your mouth, man.” I kick him one last time right in the dick as he struggles to get to his feet. He stumbles forward and crashes back down to his knees. It takes the greasy fucker two attempts to find his legs.
“She begged me for it.”
Only begging she’ll be doing is to take my cock.
“Get the fuck outta here.” Dutch shoves him toward his motorcycle.
Running a hand through my hair, I turn to see the woman staring at me open mouthed while tossing the belt into the fire. I shoot her a wink. Fuck me, she’s pretty. Medium brown hair with some blonde streaks layered toward her face, but long enough to dust her shoulders. Freckles sprinkled on her cheeks. “Thank you for that,” she says. In nothing but a pair of denim cutoffs, a tank top, and Converse sneakers, she must be freezing.
I hear the asshole thunder off on his bike.
“No problem. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Patience.”
Yeah, I could use a little patience.
“You can call
me Jag.”
“That short for something?”
“Jagger. You want a beer?” I tug my leather jacket off and hand it to her.
“Please.” She shrugs the jacket on keeping in step with me as I lead her to the barrels of beer.
“How’s that face?” I press the cold bottle to the welt on her cheek.
Her slender hand covers mine and I slide my palm down her neck, give her a squeeze, and drop away to give her space. She doesn’t need me crowding her. “Doesn’t feel too hot.”
“What the hell are you doing here with scum like Choke?”
“You’ll laugh.”
“Try me.”
“I met him on a dating app.” Her lips curve into smile and she winces at her jaw.
Laughter bubbles in my throat and I stare at my boots doing my best to hold it in and failing miserably as the sound erupts from my chest. “Woman, you’re too damn pretty to be using some computer-generated bullshit to meet a man. Especially a man like Choke.” I shake my head, while grabbing another beer for myself.
“I don’t know about that, but I won’t be making that mistake again. He showed up on the motorcycle and I thought I was up for a little adventure. I fucked up.”
“Yeah you did. You new to Drag Creek?”
“Sort of. I used to visit the lake as a kid with my dad. He’d take me fishing.”
“Heard that.”
“What about you. You always lived here?”
“A few towns away, but close enough.”
Dutch strolls over to us whistling and stroking his beard. “You okay?” He glances at Patience.
“Been better but have had worse.”
“You know he’ll be back.”
“And I’ll stomp his ass again. He know where you live?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You got this?” Dutch questions, grabbing a few beers and looking in Darlene’s direction.
“Yeah. We’re cool, man. Go on.”
“Later.” He moves toward Darlene and throws an arm over her shoulder and they disappear going toward the tents. It’s getting late and the party is winding down for the night.
“Guess you’re gonna need a ride home, huh?”
“You offering?”
Last thing I want to do is get on my Harley right now. I’m dead tired, but I’m sure she would like to put this night behind her. “Where do you live?”
“You familiar with Jackson’s Dairy?”
“The old farm on Blaine Road?”
“Yeah. Andrew was my father.”
“No shit? How old was he when you were born?”
“Like fifty-five. Long story.”
I nod. “Heard that. Let’s get you home.”
Chapter 2
Patience
The motorcycle rolls to a stop right at my front porch. Jagger drops his kickstand. I climb off and hand him back his leather jacket. “Thanks for everything tonight.”
“No problem.”
I thought for sure tonight I was going to get raped by that asshole, Jason—Choke, or whatever his stupid name is. He was nothing like his profile online. What a dummy I was. I shouldn’t have gotten on the back of his motorcycle, but I thought he appeared handsome in his photos. Cropped blond hair, light green eyes, trimmed beard, and the messages we exchanged made him seem like a chill guy. Boy did I judge his character wrong.
When he pulled up on his Harley excitement warmed inside me. He said he had been invited to a cookout at the lake. To be fair he did ask if I would rather go to the movie, but I figured this could be a good way to meet more people. Drag Creek isn’t exactly a social hub. It’s a small Kentucky town with a teeny tiny population. The town is mostly made up of bikers it seems. I remember seeing them around when I’d come to the lake with my dad as a young girl. I was always fascinated by their tattoos and loud motorcycles. I signed up for this dating app after my divorce. It’s a community for people who are interested in the same kinks as you. I have a fetish, well fantasy about being choked during sex. After meeting my date, I no longer have that problem. He squashed any curiosity I harbored.
Though Jagger isn’t like him. He came to my rescue without even knowing me. Things could have gone worse for me. Not everyone is as lucky to have a sexy badass come to the rescue.
“Do you think he’ll show up and try anything?”
“Hard to say.”
“Would you…could you come in and check my house for me just as a precaution.”
“You live out here alone?”
“Yeah, I only moved in two weeks ago. It’s sat empty for a few years. There’s—it’s just me and my cat.”
“All right.” The bike cuts off and he throws his leg over.
“Watch your step.” The walkway to the cement, four poster porch is uneven. The motion sensor kicks on illuminating the doorway. I dig my key out and unlock the front door. Jagger follows me in, and I flip on the entryway light. “Hey. Mr. Puss,” I greet my furbaby as he rounds the corner coming from the living room.
“You named your cat Mr. Puss?”
I look at my hero. Dark hair, long enough to have that unruly appearance and perfect for running one’s fingers through. An angular jaw in perfect proportion to his nose and piercing cobalt eyes. Tattoos on his neck and arms. I can’t make them out from where I’m standing but he’s hot. Better looking than that dickhead I thought about hooking up with until he started downing heavy liquor and getting rapey. I can’t believe I was so damn stupid.
“His name is Whiskers.”
“Right. I’m gonna do a walk-through. Stay here with Puss.”
“Thanks again.” I bend down and scoop up Whiskers, stroking my fingers through his fluffy white hair. “Momma missed her baby,” I coo and take him into the kitchen for a treat. He’s a big fan of the chicken flavor.
Jagger’s heavy boots sound from above echoing through the big house. The two-story farmhouse is too damn big for me, but my father left the property to me when he passed away. He upkept the place. Even after being closed up for a few years, it’s in great shape. The historical home was built in the 1940s. I thought about selling it a few times, but the buyers never felt right. Maybe fate was at play.
I leave my cat to enjoy his treat and put my shoes in the hall closet. My father put a lot of work into updating the house over the years. For twenty years the original homeowners operated a dairy farm on the south side of the property. They farmed tobacco and had an apple orchard too. When the old man passed away the widow was all that was left. Her sons had passed away years before and my father had worked for them. She told my dad that he could buy it if he promised not to divide the land up and sell it. He gave his word and now I’m keeping it.
“House is clear. I don’t think he’ll bother you tonight. He’s probably holed up somewhere licking his wounds. I can give you my number. He shows up or you get scared whatever. Give me a call. I have no problem kicking his ass again. You own a gun?”
I shake my head.
“You should get one.”
“Okay.” The sensation of someone walking over my graves washes over me and I shiver.
“You got a pen…paper?”
“Yeah. There’s a pad in the kitchen. Through here.” I lead him through the dining room to the alcove between it and the kitchen that houses a stool and telephone.
Jagger’s brows arch. “A rotary?”
“My dad was old fashioned.” I shrug and he scrawls his phone number on the pad of post its.
“All right. You good?”
“Yeah. I’m so sorry. Did you want a drink, or I can give you gas money for the ride?”
He scoffs. “Darlin’, I’m good but don’t offend me with that shit. I may be a biker, but I’ve got some fucking manners. A woman I’m taking care of never pays.”
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I’ll see myself out but lock all your doors. I checked your windows, they’re all good.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
> He lifts his chin and I stay rooted in place.
The front door shuts and I lean into the wall for support as the heaviness of the night settles over me. Letting out a shaky breath, I check the doors and turn out the lights as I move through the house.
Upstairs in the master bedroom, I strip to my underwear and grab clean ones out of my dresser drawers. I go into the bathroom and turn on the hot water for the clawfoot tub and plug the bottom. I pour in some lavender bath salts then poke around in the drawers of the double sink vanity until I find what I’m searching for, a hair tie to pull my hair up off my neck. I washed it this morning and I’m too drained to do it again tonight. I pile my hair into a messy bun, avoiding seeing my reflection in the mirror. I’m not brave enough to assess the damage yet.
Stripped to nothing, I ease my body down in the tub. The warm water soothes my skin along with my soul.
I hope making this change…this move to Drag Creek isn’t a mistake.
After divorcing Nicholas, I needed a fresh start. We ended on good terms, but I needed a change of scenery. I’m not sure this was exactly what I had in mind, but I had the house sitting here, and my car was loaded down with my belongings. Then I was offered a job. Fate lined up and here I am.
New beginning.
Chapter 3
Jagger
By the time I made it back to my tent at the campground I was fuckin’ dead to the world. I sit up and scrub a palm over my face, rubbing the creases of my eyes. The front of my tent unzips and Moonie ducks his head inside. “Prez wants you.”
“He up at the cabin?”
“Yup.”
“He in a bad mood?”
“Fuck if I know. Romeo told me to get you, so I got you.”
“Right. I’ll be there after I piss.” He nods and disappears.
Letting out a sigh, I shove my boots back on and crawl out of the tent. Fuck me the sun shines in my eyes nearly blinding me. I go a few paces behind a nearby tree and empty my bladder. I feel fuckin’ rough. I need another six hours of shuteye and I didn’t even get fuckin’ laid. Pulling out my smokes, I stick one in my mouth and light up.