Rock's Redemption(Insurgents MC Romance Book 8)(42)

"Yeah, just catching up on shit with my big brother." Rock turned to Henri. "Wanna meet my brothers?"

"No. Suzette and I are leaving."

"Are you Suzette Terriot? I remember you from high school."

"Hi, Roche." She smiled widely and it frightened the hell out of him. "I heard you moved to Colorado."

"Yeah. I didn't recognize you." Fuck, Isa was right. She made her big  tits even bigger. Something's all kind of crazy with this chick.                       
       
           



       

"Is that Clotille Boucher next to you?"

Clotille straightened her shoulders. "Yes, I'm Clotille. I'm sorry, but I don't remember you."

"I didn't think you would. I was in Armand's class. How's he doing?"

Rock noticed a glint of anger in his brother's eyes when his date asked  about Armand. "Did you used to go out with him?" Rock knew asking the  question was childish, but he took delight in the visible flush in  Henri's face.

Suzette nodded and giggled. "The last year in high school, and then on and off for a bit."

"When did you get in town, Clotille?" Henri said, and Rock smirked at  him to show he knew Henri was diverting the conversation away from  Suzette's interest in her ex-boyfriend.

"Not too long ago," Clotille answered.

"She's leaving real soon. Just a passing-through trip, right?" He darted his eyes to her and she nodded.

"So you two are dating now?" Henri smiled thinly.

"Just hanging out." Rock motioned to Bones to throw him a beer. "And the  question and answer session is fuckin' over now. Come on, chérie, let's  go back outside." Rock latched his fingers around hers and they walked  out back with Bones right behind them. He laughed when he overheard  Henri tell Isa he didn't want to stay. Rock didn't want him to stay  either; they were like oil and water, and always had been. It'd be  better if Henri came by after Rock went back to Pinewood Springs.

Later that night, after everyone had left and all the dishes and pots  had been cleaned and put away, Rock sat on the chaise lounge on the  patio, Clotille between his long legs, leaning back against him. A soft  breeze ruffled her hair, and Rock smoothed it down with his hand before  returning his arm to her waist. The Spanish moss moved gently in the  warm breeze, and the lights from the paper lanterns softened the  darkness. Behind them the house was dark-everyone had gone to bed. They  sat for a long while holding each other and listening to the constant  chirping of the crickets.

"Do you want to go to the bayou tomorrow?" she asked.

"Nah. It'll just piss me off if I see what's happening to it," he said as he nuzzled her neck.

"You're probably right," she replied, then inhaled sharply as his hand  slid down her top, grasping one of her nipples and tweaking it with his  thumb and finger.

"It sucks Suzette saw you tonight. I'm pretty sure she's going to use it  as an excuse to call Armand." He tugged her nipple, loving the way it  had a direct circuit to her pussy. She arched her back, bringing her  tits closer to him while her legs moved back and forth.

"Armand's dating someone. I doubt he'd even take her phone call," she said in a raspy voice.

"Never know." His other hand glided down slowly, and he chuckled softly when she gasped. "Did you have a good time tonight?"

"Yes," she croaked as his hand dipped beneath the waistband of her panties.

"That's good. You and Isa made some kickass food. We should go to a  Cajun club to dance. We can go to Baton Rouge. Would you like that?"

She squirmed under his skilled touch, each movement rubbing against his cock which had grown rock-hard.

"Uh-huh."

"It'll be fun. I love dancing with you." He licked her jawline, then  tilted his head lower to gently bite the place where her neck curved  into her shoulder.

"Oh, God," she groaned.

Then his hand was on her hot and sopping pussy and he slid his finger  between her folds, covering it with her juices. He withdrew and placed  the digit in his mouth, licking and sucking. She craned her head and he  caught her heated gaze. "Fuckin' tasty, chouchou. Try it." He slipped it  into her mouth and she licked it, driving him fuckin' wild. She pushed  herself up and tugged off her panties, then undid the button of his  jeans and zipped them down. His cock, harder than marble, jutted  straight out and she placed her mouth over the crown, gliding her hot  tongue across it. He let her play with his hardness until his balls  tightened. Then he pulled her off and pushed up her skirt, moving her to  straddle him while he entered her. He pulled her top over her head,  unhooked her bra, and grabbed her tits with both hands as though they  were food for a starving man.

She placed her feet on the ground, grabbed the arms of the chair, and  began to ride him as he played with her tits. Leaning down, she kissed  him deeply before moving back up, grinding and bouncing on him. He loved  watching her tits jiggle and sway as she moved. She's fuckin' gorgeous,  and I can't get enough of her. I'm fuckin' addicted to my beautiful  Clotille. He gently eased her back a bit to give him better access to  her pink pussy. He gazed at it, her clit swollen and peeking from its  hood, begging for attention. Rock placed his finger next to her bud and  stroked steadily as he felt her warm walls clutch his cock like a vise.                       
       
           



       

They rode each other under the moonlight and stars, their breathing  heavy, their bodies coated in a thin sheen of dampness. As she stifled  her cries against his shoulder, her teeth bearing down hard, guttural  grunts rose from his throat. They came together, holding, biting, and  loving one another.

And it was good.

It was fucking perfect.





Chapter Twenty-Two





The Insurgents arrived at the diner on the far west side of the city.  The smiling crawfish with the chef's hat blinked on and off in neon  blue, while the name of the diner, Crawdads, lit up the parking lot in  neon yellow. Crawdads had catered to the bikers in the area for the past  forty years, and it was generally considered a neutral zone for rival  clubs. Dogface had told the Insurgents that would be the best place to  meet with the Gypsy Fiends' president.

When they entered the eatery, Rock noticed several men in leather and  denim seated at a big table in the back. Most of them sported bushy  beards and long stringy hair. The president patch on the cut of the guy  at the head of the table directed the Insurgents toward them. When they  approached, Rock noted the name, Copperhead, stitched on the president's  cut. The dude had long blond hair and a lengthy beard in a slightly  darker shade. Icy blue eyes stared out of a face that had a patchwork of  scars, cuts, and moles. He sat expressionless as they stood in front of  the table.

"I'm Hawk, the VP of the Insurgents, and these are my brothers. You're Copperhead?"

The president nodded while his brothers stared at the Colorado club.  Copperhead motioned Hawk to sit down, and he grabbed a chair, the other  Insurgents following suit.

"I'm not gonna fuck around. You know why we're here. You got the weapons  we want and we got the cash you need." Hawk and Copperhead stared at  each other, neither of them giving the other any slack.

Rock sat at the end of the table so he could watch what everyone was  doing. He was on high alert since a seemingly calm interaction could  turn bloody and deadly in a matter of seconds. In the outlaw world,  anger and hate were always bubbling right beneath the surface.

"The shit we got is for someone else. We can get you some more. It'll  take some fucking time, but we can get ‘em." Copperhead scratched his  beard.

"I don't give a fuck who it's for. We got the cash. I'm not waitin' for  shit. If you don't want the money, then we're wasting our goddamned  time."

Hawk tilted his chin at his brothers and pushed his chair back. He and  the rest started to get up when Cooperhead said, "Where the hell you  going? Sit the fuck down. I didn't say I wasn't interested in doing  business."

Hawk paused for several seconds, then eased back into the chair. His  brothers followed his lead, all of them stone-faced. Rock was laughing  on the inside. We've got these greedy fuckers. Kiss our asses, Demon  Riders.

In the end, the Gypsy Fiends agreed to take the cash deal and to "fuck  the rich dude." Rock and his brothers knew exactly who the "rich dude"  was, and he took an enormous amount of pleasure in screwing the Demon  Riders and Frederick.

To seal the deal, both clubs ordered a feast of crawfish, shrimp, red  beans and rice, gumbo, and a slew of other local favorites. As the men  ate, they talked about the one thing that bound all the outlaws  together-Harleys. And not once did Rock have to smash someone in the  face. The meeting had been a huge success.