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Ride With The Devil (The Devil’s Riders #2)
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I’m big and mean. I like it dirty. She’s off limits and way too innocent. But I’d like to see someone try and stop me.
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Jack watched as brother after brother disappeared into the back with the sweetbutts. Everyone was so focused on getting ass they didn’t pay attention to what really mattered: staying alive.
The club wasn’t just about getting wasted and getting tail. It meant something. They were supposed to be a well oiled machine. An army.
But this was just… sloppy.
He shook his head. He didn’t have the patience for dealing with women. Not when he had bigger fish to fry.
It had been a while since he laid anyone though. He hadn’t had the urge. Some people might say he didn’t have any urges, at all.
He knew he could have his pick of the women hanging around the bar tonight. Hell, a couple of them would have done anything to get a couple of minutes with his cock. He had gotten a reputation for being unnaturally large. Not from any locker room talk either.
It was just visible through his pants.
It was kind of hard to hide something the size of a tree trunk.
It was true that he was big, but also a pain in the ass. Could he help it that he was 6’4” with a cock to match? It didn’t mean he was offering rides.
In fact, he was way too popular for his liking.
Something about the way he kept to himself only seemed to make the girls more desperate to get his attention. They made it clear they’d do anything to please him. He sneered at a girl with frizzy bleached out hair who brushed past him with a simper.
Maybe it was time to head home.
He stalked over to the bar and put down the heavy mug that Donnie kept just for him.
“Want a refill?”
Jack shook his head. He’d been drinking ginger ale all night, as usual.
“Calling it a night?”
Donnie smiled at him. Jack didn’t smile back. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Donnie. It was just that Jack never smiled.
Donnie held out his hand and Jack clasped it in a show of brotherhood.
“See you tomorrow, Viking.”
Jack nodded and left. He ignored the looks he was getting from the rest of the club and the easy women who were lounging everywhere. He was not in the mood for dealing with them, even just for some head.
He strode out to his bike and climbed on. It was just a quick ride to his shop and the apartment above it. It was late but he wasn’t sleepy. He decided to throw the lights on upstairs and work on the roof deck.
Jack was hammering in two by four planks of cedar when he looked up at the sky. It was already getting light out but he could still see the stars. It was beautiful up here.
Or it would be, when he was finished.
He wondered briefly who the hell he was building this for. It’s not like he had anyone to share it with other than Dev and Donnie. Hell, he hardly even talked to them, even though he saw them every day.
He would lay down his life for them in a heart beat.
Not that it was saying much. He knew his life wasn’t worth much to anyone anyway.
He’d known that since he was five years old.
Janet stared at her shoes while her father droned on and on about responsibility. She did her best to tune him out completely. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard it all before.
Over and over again.
She was mentally running her routine. The last part she’d played in the Seattle Ballet Company. In her mind she marked out all her steps, swooping with the music. It was almost like she was back there, dancing her heart out. Even though it had been well over a year ago.
It almost worked too.
And then her mother took over the lecture, making sure Janet knew how humiliated she was to have a daughter ‘like her.’
Ouch. That was a new one.
Janet tuned her out too. It was better this way. Don’t try and make them see reason. That had never gotten her far. Just let them have their say and she could get on with her life.
Whatever that was going to turn out to be.
She bit her tongue to keep from talking back. They just didn’t get her. They never had, and she doubted they ever would. They had expectations about the way a proper young lady should sit and talk and behave.
Ideas that seemed straight out of the 1950’s if you asked Janet.
Her parents were extremely well off and belonged to every club in town. They had the nicest house in the neighborhood, the nicest cars, and until recently, the nicest little goody two shoes, professional ballet dancer for a daughter.
She almost laughed but she didn’t want to get them going again. She had been a goody two shoes. Until about a year ago. Then BAM.
Now, not so much.