Clubwhore (Devil's Renegade MC #1)(50)

That’s Bryce’s way—stripping me away from reality and escaping with me to a little place I can only describe as nirvana. This man will be the death of me. And my raw, swollen pussy dampens further at just the feel of him sliding out of me—already begging for him to take me again.

He pats my ass to get my attention. “Come on, Love. Get dressed.”

“Ugh,” I grunt. He must’ve anticipated my slow return from paradise, because he’s already assisting in pulling my panties up my legs. I’m being lazy and I know it, but I stand with my cheek pressed against the bricks while he clothes me, one layer at a time.

Spinning me to face him, he cups my face in his hands. “You look just fucked.”

“And you look cocky,” I tease, giving him a lazy smile.

“Shouldn’t I be?”

I flip my hand in the air and wrinkle my nose. “Eh.”

He starts to say something, but a noise on my left draws both our attention. It doesn’t take me long to put names with the three bodies silently watching from the side of the building.

I smile. “You girls enjoy the show?” I call out. They freeze, knowing they’d just been caught. I half expect them to run, but instead, I’m forced to eat my words as Bryce laughs in my face at Red’s admission.

“Eh…”





CHAPTER 25



I couldn’t help but cringe the entire ride to the clubhouse. Bryce rode behind Regg, who rode beside Luke, giving me a full view of the ol’ ladies who rode bitch—proudly sporting their property patches on their backs. Ugh. I prayed like hell no one I knew saw me as we sped through traffic. I damn sure didn’t want anyone to get the idea that I was an ol’ lady. And they think clubwhores are beneath them. Whatever.

Bryce kept shooting me curious stares in the mirror during the ride. When we’re back at the clubhouse and everyone else has already walked inside, he grabs my elbow and pulls me back.

“What’s up?” he asks, narrowing his gaze on me. “You don’t think people suspect I’m your”—I swallow the bile that threatens—“ol’ lady, do you?”

He laughs at that. Shaking his head, he tucks a wild strand of hair behind my ear. “I don’t do ol’ ladies, babe. Not my thing. Everyone knows that.” A lesser woman might be offended. But I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Good.” I shiver, and Bryce mistakes the move as me being cold and ushers me through the door.

As much of a welcome escape as the little house was, there’s nothing like coming home. The smell of leather, wood, smoke, booze and sex lingers in the air. I stop and inhale. Ahhh…

I don’t get to enjoy it long before I’m being pulled down the hall and into my room. It looks just like I left it. If anyone visited it while I was away, they made sure not to leave any evidence of their stay.

The mental note I’d made earlier surfaces. “Who packed clothes for me?”

“Luke,” Bryce answers, taking a seat on the bed to unzip the legs of his chaps.

“Really?” It shouldn’t be surprising, but I’d assumed it was Linda or one of the other girls who worked here.

“Yep. Apparently, he’s into women’s fashion.” He smirks at his own joke. “I’m going out of town tomorrow.”

“Why?” I ask, unable to hide my disappointment.

“Got some loose ends to tie up in Lake Charles. I’ll be back in a couple days.” I don’t think about what it will be like when he’s away. Instead, I focus on the fact that he’s here now. In my room. Undressing. And he told me he was leaving when really he had no reason to tell me at all.

“Well, be careful.” What else can I say? I rummage through my drawers, searching for nothing in particular. I said I wasn’t going to think about him leaving, but I can’t help it.

“Hey.” His breath is on my neck as he comes up behind me, dragging his hands up my arms. “Shower with me.”

He doesn’t wait for my answer. He just steers me in the direction of my bathroom. While he starts the water, I strip, noticing he’s already naked. I trail my eyes down his neck, his back, to his ass that’s toned, smooth and tinted perfectly—a result of his olive complexion.

“Stop lookin’ at my ass, babe.”

The tension in my shoulders lifts. “Well, I can’t help it. It’s such a cute little ass.”

He faces me, shielding his cute little ass from my sight. “There’s nothing little about me.” I laugh. “You don’t agree?” he asks, pulling me flush against him. His cock presses against my belly. “What about this?” He swivels his hips. “Is this little?”

I feign a look of innocence—widening my eyes and opening my mouth on a small O. “No…” I shake my head. “That thing’s a monster.” He rolls his eyes, fighting a smile as I continue to tease him. “It’s sooo big.”

“Really?” He shoots me an incredulous look. I bite my cheek to keep from laughing. This is just too much fun.

“Do the other bikers pick on you?” I turn my lips down on a frown. “Is that why you need me to reassure you?”

“You’re an asshole. You know that?” He’s trying to appear wounded, but it’s hard to keep up the façade when a smile is stretched across his face.

“You like this asshole.” As I say the words, his eyes darken and the smile fades. His hold on my hips loosens, sliding around to cup the cheeks of my ass.

“Yes, I do.” I have a feeling his admission doesn’t necessarily pertain to me, but the forbidden part of my body he once said he wanted to fuck.

“We should shower,” I pant. Forcing my mouth closed, I swallow hard.

He smirks down at me--desire and pleasure flashing in his green eyes at the turn of the conversation. “Waiting on you, Love.”





After our shower, I was sure his dirty talk that stirred my sex, added with the thrill of soapy hands roaming my body, would be enough to prime me to take him once again. But he had a different idea in mind.

Wrapping his naked body around mine, he kissed me sweetly and tucked my head into his chest—keeping his hand on the back of my head to hold me there. My sexual cravings reduced from a rolling boil to a light simmer as I relaxed against him. He knew what I needed. And it wasn’t his cock. It was the intimacy.

The embrace is a promise that even though he was leaving, he’d be back. That what we had wasn’t just about sex, but two people who found comfort and solace in each other. He hadn’t admitted it, or even let on that he found that those same reassurances in me, but deep down I knew it.

I felt it. I wasn’t in this alone. I needed Bryce. He’d become such a vital part of my life. And there’s no doubt in my mind that a part of him needs me too.





Bryce is gone when I wake up. I know he won’t be there, but I walk down the hall to the front room in hopes he’ll be sitting at the bar waiting for me. He isn’t.

I grumble to myself as I start my morning coffee. Reaching under the counter, I close my eyes and send up a silent prayer that my cigarettes are still here. My hand closes around the box and I smile. Pulling it out, there’s a small note attached to the pack.

Thought you might need these—Bryce

“What you so happy about?” Linda asks, sidling up on the barstool and motioning me to pass her the smokes. I remove the note, and hand them to her. “Uh-uh.” She shakes her head. “Let me see.”

“It’s nothing.” I shrug. “Just the receipt. What you been up to?”

The note is forgotten, and she starts to ramble on about shit she’s been doing since I’ve been gone. I find out that like the ol’ ladies, Linda is under the impression I’ve been in Lake Charles helping Bryce pack up his house.

The story is actually a pretty solid one. If it were true, it wouldn’t be the first time the club hired me to work outside the clubhouse. I’ve never helped someone move, but I have entertained at other clubs’ parties, and made house calls.

“So,” Linda says, standing and looking around. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“Cleaning. This place is a wreck.” I wrinkle my nose, noticing the scattered bottles, overflowing ashtrays and muddy floors, and I dread whatever state the bathroom is in. “Did y’all do anything besides party while I was gone?”

Linda shakes her head, completely unashamed. “Nope. And ain’t gonna do it today. Some of the other girls will be by shortly.” She grabs her purse, and shoots me a wink. “Put them to work.”

Yeah. Like that was gonna happen.

I’m a bit of a neat freak. I can’t help it. It bothers me. But staying busy has always kept my mind occupied. Today I use my work as a distraction from Bryce. There’s no room for thoughts of anything else. He consumes them all.

When the place is clean, it’s well into the evening. Several patches are here drinking beer, playing pool and just hanging out. I never really understood why they hung around so much. But my best guess is that they’re lonely. Most of the regulars don’t have children or wives. And the ones that do don’t like them very much, I suppose.

“Hey, doll. Remember me?” I look up from my phone to find Eagles’ Prospect Drake staring back at me. No. Not Prospect. Drake is now a full patch. If it wasn’t stitched on his cut, it can be seen on his face. The club has definitely stripped him of his innocence and humility. Now he’s as cocky as the rest of them.