Page 28 of Rider Daddies (Venom Vultures MC #6)

Ripe blood was gushing out of Manual’s chest, and it felt orgasmic. I could do it again, and again. Maybe the person I should be the most afraid of is myself.

Manual was dead on the floor, and I was standing over him. He never saw it coming, and that made me feel powerful. Aside from the sex last night, killing Manual was the best dopamine hit of my life, nothing compared to academic achievements.

Back at the law firm, I won a case every now and then and got to sue companies, but thrusting a knife into a man’s chest felt different.

It was a real kill, not a corporate one.

You can take away money, but that grows back.

I’d love to see a human body regenerate.

“What are you doing out here?”

Ash again.

I turn around and watch him step onto the veranda, joining me outside.

It’s a good question—what am I doing out here?

Deciding which path to take: good or evil. The latter is certainly starting to seem more appealing when it includes my biker brothers.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Ash stands way too close to me and hitches an eyebrow. “What?”

“You still haven’t worked out your differences?”

“We don’t like to share.”

“Last night you didn’t seem to mind.” I tip my chin. “It was hot last night…with an audience. I enjoyed it.”

“We all enjoy you. That’s the problem.”

“But why does it have to be a problem?”

Ash studies me like a textbook. Even in the darkness, his eyes still find a way to cut into my soul. It’s making me forget why I came out here in the first place.

I’m back to square one—hot and bothered, but this time my throat isn’t closing up. It’s actually doing the opposite…

Which it needs to do, for a man of his size…

“We lost our parents.”

Throat closed right back up.

“Oh.” I stutter over my words. I’m thinking about sex and he’s thinking about his dead parents. Way to go, Lucia. “I’m sorry, that?—”

“It was a long time ago, but the lack of parental guidance has caused some tiffs over time.” Ash squares his shoulders. “It was a shocking turn of events that left all of us pretty…directionless, hence why we all turned to the club. But at the end of the day, external factors only fix so much…”

I stare into his eyes.

It feels like he’s trying to get me to swallow a pill. So, I do what any ordinary person would do when things venture too deep under the surface—I change the topic of conversation.

“I don’t think I can leave this place.”

“You can, the tattoo doesn’t limit you to one place. It just means that?—”

“I murdered a man and I liked it.”

It’s the Katy Perry remix.

The corners of Ash’s lips pull into a smile.

I expected him to react like this. It must be the American motorcyclist’s dream to be with a girl who shares their love for violence.

“Theoretically, even if I returned home to California and found another law firm to sue people at, there would always be that what-if .”

“You’ve lost me.”

“Why did I enjoy it so much?”

“You liked the power.” Ash steps in and tucks a flying piece of hair behind my ear. “At some point in your life, you felt powerless, so you liked being in control for a change.”

I narrow my eyes. I knew reputation preceded these guys. Behind the rough exterior, cocky grins, and sex eyes, they all have broken hearts.

And they don’t want to be fixed.

Because when you’ve been broken for so long, it’s the only sense of familiarity you have left.

“It’s not bad to have a desire for blood, as long as you have it for the right reason,” Ash says.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Just because somebody has made it to the top, it doesn’t mean they’re good or have a reliable sense of judgment.

They’re given a voice, but that doesn’t mean you should listen.

When something is declared illegal, it has nothing to do with the greater good, nothing to do with protecting citizens.

It’s all bullshit, drip-fed into children before they even know how to speak, so that when they grow up, order is kept. ”

Why is this the most interesting lecture I’ve ever listened to?

“Activities are made illegal because it keeps the so-called kings on their thrones.” Ash shifts his weight onto the other foot.

“Do you wanna know why there are so many rules, so many rights and wrongs? It’s because the sinners of the world are protecting themselves… and they’re conveniently at the top.”

I frown. What’s he getting at here?

He wants us to storm the Capitol and burn everything to the ground?

He wants to assassinate everybody in power so he can take the throne for himself?

“The law isn’t for us. It’s for sinners.” Ash extends his arms like he’s giving the desert a big hug. “Out here, we make our own rules. We decide who lives and dies.”

God, why does he have to look so irresistible?

Maybe the dark side isn’t so bad after all when it involves three hot brothers who dance to the beat of their own drum.

I grew up in a civilization surrounded by law and order. I fucking loved the concept so much that I studied it for four years straight. When you’re a lawyer, you exercise control.

It’s only now occurring to me that ever since Papa had his stupid affair, all I’ve ever wanted was to win. I gawp at Ash now and realize that I’m finally victorious. I don’t know if I’ll stay here forever, but I do know that I killed for a reason.

I was never meant to practice law and abide by somebody else’s rulebook.

I was always supposed to make my own.

That’s how I win.

That’s how I become powerful.

The two-foot distance between Ash and me is killing me. How dare he come out here and ask if I’m okay while looking like my favorite dessert?

“Come here.”

It was pointless saying that because I’m already grabbing him by his cut and colliding our mouths before he can obey my request.

Our mouths fuse together with familiarity, his wet, hot tongue sliding against my own to create the most sensational friction that sends shivers down between my legs.

“How rogue would it be if you just fucked me out here?”

“You’d regret it.”

“With you three, I don’t regret anything.”

I bring our lips back together to squish that last comment and move on. I let my body do the talking, thrusting my hips into him to let him know that I’m down to fuck.

Now.

Right here in the open.

The same, desperate burn from last night returns between my legs. Somehow, now that I’ve been marked as theirs, I need them even more.

The whole “claimed” nonsense is working on me. I’ve never once desired to be owned…until I arrived at the clubhouse of my dreams.

Ash uses his brute strength and pulls me toward him. He could lead me to the grave for all I care as long as he fucks me first. If he doesn’t do something about this situation, my pussy is gonna burn up.

“Bend over.”

About time.

I’m thrown over a Harley like a rag doll, my torso bent over the seat as Ash wrestles off my very tight denim shorts.

Any time today, soldier…

After trying to undo the belt loop several times, he rips the fabric and undresses me that way, leaving me in just a plain white tee and panties.

He doesn’t bother with the tee—there’s no time.

As for the panties, he hooks his finger underneath the fabric and tugs until I hear another gratifying rip!

That’s how it should be done.

I feel the wind blow against my pussy, making the sensations even more tingly.

What they never tell you about sex in the open air is how fucking hippie it makes you feel, at one with Mother Nature as you make love under a sky full of stars. Though I wouldn’t call aggressive bending-over and undressing making love , it’s definitely something.

Ash unbuckles his pants and plunges straight inside of me.

I grip the edge of the seat and hold on for dear life as he begins his thrust. Holy shit, the man can fuck. And I have the feeling this isn’t the hardest he can go.

You can only suppress your screams for so long until you let go.

I yell his name, my back arched to fit all eight-nine-something inches of him inside of me. At this point, he’s in my stomach rearranging my organs.

And it feels like heaven on earth.

“Oh my god, Ash!”

It’s good, but I’m missing two others.

I’ve broken my own rule—all three were supposed to be in the room at the same time…

But in my defense, we’re not in a room.

I’m sure this will cause some uproar with Ryder and Saint, but Ash and I don’t have the mental capacity to think about that right now.

He hits gold every time, his dick dragging out just to slide up against my clit, stimulating me twice. The screams leave my mouth involuntary. I simply have no control over my body and I’m not ashamed to admit that.

Sex should always feel like this.

Mentally, I’m not bent over the bike right now. I’m cruising through the stars at full speed, breaking all laws of physics.

I’d be lying if I said the next scream that comes out of my mouth was an accident.

I’m intentionally screaming at the top of my lungs now, in competition with the howling wind. My breasts are lonely without Ryder sucking on them. I need some brotherly assistance.

And that is exactly what I get.

Ash’s dick leaves me, and now I feel empty.

I turn around just in time to see Ryder boot his older brother to the ground. The kicking continues even though Ash is down, one hard kick after the other, followed by the exclamatory: “Sanctimonious, fucking asshole. Go to hell.”

I look further over my shoulder, conscious that I’m still butt-naked and bent over a Harley. I’m just about to close my legs when Saint pulls up, widening them again.

“Let me show you how it’s done.”

A new warmth enters me, a different one, but the feeling is just as good.

And we’re off again.

I’m gripping the seat, my moans getting louder as Saint drives deeper.

To be fought over by three grown men is every woman’s dream…

Until it brings more attention.

Unwanted this time.

I’ve never seen Ryder call it quits with Ash so fast. I take advantage of my position on the Harley and peer through the side-view mirror to see him spring off of Ash. He even goes as far as pulling him back to his feet.

Saint exits me, but this time the disappointment doesn’t hit.

In fact, I shut my thighs and duck down to hide my modesty, blindly searching for my clothes in the dark because a ripped pair of panties is better than going commando in the face of the cops.

Two cops, both dressed to the nines in workwear and official badges.

Fuck, fuck.

I find the ripped denim shorts and use them as a cover up.

In the presence of two cops, I feel the need to stand up and look innocent, even if two seconds prior, I was naked from the waist down committing a crime.

“In our defense,” I feel the need to say. “There wasn’t anybody around.”

The cop takes one look at me and moves on.

Ignored by a cop while covering self with ripped clothes—there goes my last shred of dignity.

“We’re here to find a missing girl who was last reportedly seen at the abandoned Sunshine Motel. Her name is Lucia Bianchi.”