A Rebel Love (Black Rebel Riders' MC Book 7) Read online

  Who knows if we are still recording, I don’t rightly care at this point. I’m chasing my orgasm.

  Tread

  My Libby is up on the counter with her hot cunt in my face. She has the thickest ass. I love getting a handful or mouthful of her butt cheeks. Long, dark hair frames her face and spills across her chest hiding her ample breasts. Her plump lips are pouted into a perfect O, as her hazel eyes roll back in her head.

  Her sweetness coats my mouth, dripping down my chin. Fuck, she is a hot little number. I still can’t believe she decided to be mine. When we got together I knew she’d be a hell of a time. I didn’t have any plans for a future when I met her. When she agreed to come home with me, I was over the goddamn moon. She loves sex as much as I do and she has a smart mouth on her that I love to set off.

  I have her phone in my hand getting a close-up of my tongue fucking her juicy pussy. Her tender heat is so swollen and pink, pulsing with need. Her knees squeeze against my ears tight and I know she is close, but I don’t want her cumming until we are cumming together. There is no greater feeling than the sensation of her orgasm washing over my dick as my hot spunk spurts inside her.

  If we keep this shit up, we’ll be making babies before long. The thought should have me running, but it has me wanting to yank her down in the floor and fuck her fast and hard, until I spill my seed deep in her womb. Her legs begin to tremble as her chest shudders with her ragged breathing. I pull back and tell her, “not yet dirty girl.”

  “Please Tread,” she whispers against my mouth after I’ve pushed her legs off me and raised up to kiss her. Fuck this phone. I lay it on the counter next to us and help her down. “Bend over the table,” I tell her, leading her to the middle of the small eat-in-kitchen.

  She does as I want, sticking her ass up and ready to be fucked. My balls are tight, aching to smack up against her skin. I beat the head of my dick against her ass crack as more precum leaks out. She pants my name among other choice words as I ease into her. The gates to heaven open for me as I slide in her velvety hole. I still as I fill her to the hilt. Her pussy is gripping my cock so tight. I want to feel like this every goddamn day. It’s a high unlike any other. I love the way her pussy curves to my dick. Our bodies were made to be joined.

  Sliding out an inch I am already ready to cum. This position isn’t doing it for me either though. I want her bouncing on my cock while I play with her titties. She loves when I take her pink tender buds into my mouth and suck them into hardened little peaks.

  I pull out and she whimpers at the lost connection. “Bed,” I grunt, unable to express any other words. With her hand in mine I yank her into me and take her in my arms. Her leg hitches around my waist and I can’t take it. My dick slides against her slick heat and her fingers come down and guide me in. I slam her back into the wall and pull her other smooth leg up.

  I feel like an animal in the wild as I pump in and out of her. Her arms are latched around my neck, her nails dig into me and I welcome the scratches as she claws me.

  “Oh, fuck, Marc, I want you to cum in me.”

  Her words are all the encouragement I need. Our lips are smashing together as my frantic tongue darts out to connect with hers. My breathing is labored from the exertion. Her panted breaths match my own. I feel her nectar from the Gods as it blankets my dick and I am a goner. My sperm shoots inside of her like a fucking rocket blasting into outer space.

  We slide down to the floor and try to come back down from our cloud.

  Stone is beating on the door ready to ride out and all I can think is I can’t wait to come back to this—to Libby.

  Before Liberty, I’d jump at the chance to go on a run. But each time I walk out that door I find it harder and harder to leave.

  Liberty

  Who knew that peeing on a white plastic stick could change everything? Tread and me are usually careful. At least I thought we were. I take my birth control religiously. After seeing the shit that went down with Diamond, Striker, and Baby—I knew I never wanted to deal with that drama. No way man, dirty diapers and broken hearts—not my scene. A baby only stands to complicate life. Babies are demanding. They need constant care. I do well to take care of myself.

  How in the hell can I be responsible for a defenseless child? This life isn’t for kids. The partying, the road, and the danger, it isn’t safe here. Rumor has beat that fact into all our heads every chance she gets. I don’t get that chick. She hates the biker life, but refuses to give it up. Me on the other hand, I love the club and Tread. I never thought I would want anything different for myself, other than a sexy, tattooed God on a motorcycle.

  But now, as I stare down at a pink plus sign, I know my plans have changed. Being with Tread has been cool, but I don’t even know how he really feels about me, about us. When Striker told me to tell Baby that Tread was claiming me, I allowed myself to get my hopes up. A part of me wished he had, even if it was only for show, but he didn’t. I kept waiting for him to make a display of saying I was his forever, but he never spoke the words. I kept waiting, only to be given the performance of a lifetime, a real Shakespearean tragedy.

  Diamond carried out her idiotic scheme and it cost her everything, it killed her. Not that I don’t believe the girl had that bullet coming, but damn, life is so fragile. Why she thought she could play Striker into believing she was having a miscarriage, when she wasn’t even pregnant, I’ll never really know. We were close in the intimate ways of sex, but she didn’t confide in me, the why of her scheme. Not entirely. I knew she wanted to be a Top Bitch, an Old Lady, it’s what I have hoped for too.

  It leads me to thinking about our relationship, mine and Tread’s, and where we are headed—nowhere.

  Tread isn’t serious about me. We have amazing sex, but is that all we share? When we got together we were both all about a good time. I was running from anything that screamed commitment and responsibility. And now look at me—I’m pregnant. Can’t get more responsible and committed than that.

  “Pregnant,” I roll the word on my tongue, wondering how in the hell I can tell him. I don’t want him under the impression that I am trying to trap him and suck him under. I don’t want him thinking I am just like Diamond.

  What she did is all too fresh. For all I know Tread might think Diamond and me planned this shit together. Her blood is barely dry on the floor at the Roadhouse after she tried to kill Baby and trick Striker.

  No, I can’t tell him.

  I won’t.

  I have to get out of here.

  I have to let him go.

  Tread isn’t ready to claim me and he sure as hell isn’t ready for the role of daddy. He loves the road too much…he lives for the thrill of the ride.

  I thought I did too, but now, I live for the love I feel for the life growing inside my womb. I need and want more than Tread can give. He isn’t ready and it’s not like he is offering me anything more than hot sex.

  He’ll be here any minute and I have to pretend that I’m not dying a little on the inside. I have to pretend his baby isn’t growing inside of me. I have to look him in the eyes and lie about my love for him. If I don’t he will always resent me.

  Liberty

  Present Day

  “You aren’t nothing but a no good cunt. I should’ve run the day I met you. You’re worthless.” My husband, the man who swore to love and to cherish me, berates me, trying to break me down.

  His words don’t scar me, his hands do. I thought he was different. I thought he was going to sweep me off my feet. He did for a while, until he didn’t get his way.

  John was handsome and charming when I met him. Clean cut and dark hair, always knowing the right things to say or do. He was the opposite of Tread, my tattooed, unruly biker, with a crass mouth.

  Now John is nothing like the man I married, he’s the worst version of himself. He’s become a man I fear.

  His dark, hollow eyes narrow on me. They once held such adoration for me, but now the only emotion they hold is contempt. “Yo
u should just send that bastard back to the hell hole you bore him in.” John refuses to let it go—Kyler not being of his own flesh and blood.

  “Maybe I will, and just maybe I’ll go with him!” I shriek knowing better. Mouthing back only makes him more heated. It only serves to make him angrier.

  I should throw my hands up and put up a fight, but defending myself only excites him. If I just take what he has to give, he will eventually grow annoyed and leave me alone, to drown his woes, at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.

  I don’t even flinch as he strikes me with his brass knuckles. I’ve received worse. I don’t even bother to cry, I am numb to the pain. This has become a familiar scene in our house—enduring physical abuse.

  John has broken my jaw, my nose. I almost lost full sight in my left eye due to an infection. The Optometrist said had I waited a day longer, my sight would have succumbed to the damage from the blow and the infection.

  He urged me to leave John, he knew the truth. I had been working in his office for a year. I couldn’t hide my scars or my shame all the time and still hold down my job. Carlos was an elderly man and he retired. When he closed his practice, he offered to give Kyler and me sanctuary with him. He was alone and old—lonely after the passing of his wife. He was good to me. I should have gone to Colorado with him when I had the chance. But I knew John would come for me. He is always threatening me, that if I leave him, he’ll kill me and Kyler.

  He'd kill Kyler first, making me suffer the brutality of watching, before taking my life. The thought is unbearable.

  John has the whole town believing I am a drunken fool, that’s how he explains my injuries away, but that’d be him. I’ve not touched a drink in years. I leave that to John. He consumes enough Jim Beam for the two of us. I swear if I don’t get the gull to kill him, his liver won’t fail me.

  His nostrils flare as he strikes my side.

  “Is that all you got?” I continue to goad him. Maybe this time he will kill me for good. But then I hear the voice of my baby and I know I have to fight for him. I have to stay strong and take all John pummels me with so Kyler won’t have to.

  “Momma, my tummy hurts,” Kyler cries from his bedroom door. His voice is raspy and pained. He’s sensitive to spicy food, but John doesn’t care. He says, “When Kyler buys my groceries he can tell me what to eat.” He is such a bastard.

  “I’ll be there in a minute baby boy,” I croak.

  “Go on take care of that eyesore.” John shoves me toward the hallway in time to see Kyler throw-up on the carpet.

  “Boy, I told you about making messes!”

  Time moves in slow motion as John grabs my son by the collar of his Ninja Turtle pajama shirt and shoves him towards the stairs. “Go on and get something to clean this shit up!” He kicks at his little shins, sending him tumbling.

  Kyler’s small body sails down the steps, thumping against the hardwood.

  I crawl across the floor, to see my world crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, crying out for momma to make the pain stop. From his mouth to God’s ears, I pray for a sign, I pray for anything, but most of all I pray and wish I could turn back time. I wish I could take it all back—leaving Tread, the father of my son.

  If I could go back and do things differently I would. I’d have told him I loved him…that I was going to have his baby instead of telling him we were over and goodbye.

  Tread’s face smiling back at me, with his dimples glowing and his light brown hair shagging across his eyes is the last thing I see before John’s foot connects with the back of my head.

  Chapter 2

  Tread

  Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday—they all blur into one. Eat, work, fuck, ride, and sleep—that’s all that I do. It takes more than fucking someone you don’t know to make you feel whole. I’ve not felt whole for quite some time.

  Taking a swig of my beer, I watch as Amy works the pole in the center of Truth’s living room. He moved in over the garage a few years ago. Grim gave the apartment and the garage to him. He’s slowly getting it operational again. Place hasn’t been the same since Striker ran it. Miss the hell out of him. Still doesn’t feel real—my best friend, Baby and their little dude, Colt are gone. One minute, they had it all and then—poof they were ripped away from us.

  This place doesn’t appear as if they ever lived here. Colt’s pictures and toys were boxed up years ago, along with our memories. It hurts to look back. Makes me think of the one who got away—Liberty. I loved her, but not enough to make her stay.

  I shake my head not wanting to get caught up in the memories. Instead, I focus my attention on what is in front of me. Hot ass. Her blonde curls whip in front of her face as she gyrates her hips. Her titties bounce as she shimmies and shakes. The bitch can move and she knows it. She grins at me as her slim, but muscular legs wrap around the metal post. Her body coils around the pole in a lover’s embrace.

  Amy is a club whore but she lives with Truth. He hasn’t claimed her as his, but no one else ever fucks her. Well, no one other than me.

  Truth crosses the room smacking Amy on the ass before he sits next to me, toking a joint. His dark hair’s down dusting his shoulders. He normally wears it on a knot at the top of his head. I tease him and call it his bitch bun.

  He passes the joint to me. I take a hard drag and top off my beer. Feeling pretty fucking good right about now. Fixing to use Amy’s hot lips to make me feel a hell of a lot better. I brought Nona over to fuck tonight but the whore passed out thirty minutes ago in the recliner. She smoked too many bowls. I continue watching Amy, knowing she will give me what I need—a release, an escape from my haunted thoughts.

  She slithers across the floor on her hands and knees. Her red nails claw at my zipper. Scooting down on the cushion, I allow her to free my dick from the constraints of my denim prison. My cock is hard and ready to go. I’ve been hard for damn near an hour.

  Truth is already unlacing his leather pants and stroking his schlong next to me. I have seen the motherfucker’s dick so many times by now, his shit doesn’t faze me. We share our pussy on occasion, and tonight just happens to be one of those nights, a night where I have too much shit on my mind. The past invades my thoughts any chance I allow it to. Hanging with this crew takes all the shit that clouds my head away. They help me forget, if only for a while.

  I watch Amy, giving her encouragement as her red lips wrap around the head of my dick. “Fuck yeah, suck my cock while Truth tears up that pussy.” One hand grips her hair, while the other squeezes her nipple. Her tender, pink skin hardens under my touch. Her nipple is begging to be sucked but I can’t reach her chest from this position.

  She bats her lashes and continues to lick and suck me while teasing my balls. My precum leaks out coating her lips. I’m damn near ready to blow. Amy knows just where to touch me, lick me, and how hard to suck me. Her fingers pleasure me as her wicked tongue massages my silken flesh.

  Physically, I am all into this scene. Sharing a woman is a beautiful thing. My best friend and me dominate her, taking all she has to offer. Amy is the best fuck around when it comes to club pussy. Truth is a lucky bastard and he doesn’t even realize it. The way Amy looks at him, as if he holds the world, her world, I wish I could have that. I tried finding it, but all I seem to attract are one-night-stands.

  Truth slams into her from behind sending my cock to the back of her throat. Her mouth suctions me tight as her tongue swirls around my dick, damn near swallowing me whole. She gets me off quickly and her pretty little mouth swallows all I have to give. I call her fast and Nona loud. Amy gets me off quick and when Nona comes the whole fucking world knows it. If only the whore wasn’t passed out, she’d be screaming my name right about now. I could be balls deep in Amy; I know she loves being double-stuffed but my mood is crashing.

  Amy smiles at me and licks her lips one more time, her red lipstick now stains my dick. I slide to the side, excusing myself to the bathroom to clean up right quick. When I com
e back through her and Truth are hard at it. I nudge Nona with my boot. She doesn’t even stir. Fuck it! She can sleep in the chair for all I care. Her neck will hurt like a bitch tomorrow, but that isn’t my problem.

  I leave Truth and Amy to finish each other off, taking my drunk, unsatisfied ass across the lot to my empty trailer. The place originally belonged to Foxie and Slim, then it went to Baby and Trouble briefly, before he died. Rebel and Rumor had it next, until she was murdered and he got with Chelle. Although Chelle never lived in my trailer, she took up home in a cabin by the lake.

  Rebel rents me his old place, since he and Chelle ended up building a house out by the moonshine cabin that Romeo used to occupy. They needed the bigger place for all of their rug rats. She’s a hellcat. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her. She’s short, with dark hair that hangs to the midsection of her back. She has thick bottom; she looks similar to Libby, they’re cousins. It makes spending time with Rebel hard. They are inseparable for the most part. She put his ass in line and she keeps it there too.

  I kick at the gravel as I walk the short distance to my porch. Memories flash of seeing Rumor and Baby sitting on the porch swing, laughing, and watching Colt play. Miss those days. Shit just made sense then, shit was just easy. Sure, we had our problems with rival clubs but that wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle.

  I spent most of my days running the roads making moonshine deliveries. There wasn’t time to think or to care about coming home to an empty bed. Besides, back then I had Liberty—I thought I had it all. I could fuck Liberty seven ways to Kingdom Come and she would eat up every second of the worship I paid to her body. Anything I wanted to try she was all in, no questions asked. She doesn’t mind sharing either. We had plenty of threesomes.

  One night, I took her to a swinger’s club, she fucking ate it up. Damn did she liked to get buck wild. I miss that—belonging to another half, having someone who loved me for me.