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Romeo
Was he going to eye fuck her all night?
I loathed the way he put his hand on her hip, nuzzled her neck, and licked his fucking lip after he had his mouth on hers. He towered over her and tucked her close to his side.
I really hated how she gazed up at him with those sultry summer eyes, golden amber and bronzed like the sunset over the ocean. He was a god of the gridiron. He should focus those hands on catching footballs.
Feelings weren’t my thing but fuck all if I didn’t hate the idea of her having a boyfriend. Greyson Cooper, running back for the Eminence University Rooks didn’t belong in the MC, and he sure as fuck didn’t belong with Levi.
“It’s good to hear her laugh.”
I snapped my gaze to Dozer, one of my best friends. He’d mistakenly thought my attention was on Pippa as she danced with Levi and Hana. Pippa had been our girl, but then bad shit happened. The kind of shit nightmares were made of.
I’ve been in some fucked up situations. That was life in the motorcycle club. I didn’t catch feelings, but I loved Pippa. Not a romantic love, but she was important to me because she was important to Dozer. I loved my brothers in the MC. Dozer more than the others…because of her.
Some would think I’d lost part of my soul for Pippa. But I hadn’t killed for her. I’d killed for Dozer. He was the fighter, but that night, the one that changed her, and changed me—that night Pippa had come before his need for vengeance.
Pippa didn’t tell me what had happened in those terrifying fourteen hours of hell. She didn’t have to. We’d found her, but not in time to save her. Not that she wasn’t fucked up from the savagery of a man who’d taken what was ours. He’d broken her, but she’d survived. He didn’t.
I’d never get the memory out of my head. Not of Pippa lying on a dirty mattress, wishing she were dead…and not of the beaten, bloody bastard who’d raped her.
Heller justice.
I’d broken bones. I wasn’t a fighter because I preferred to use my hands to get a girl off. But I’d never tasted the dark, satisfying flavor of blood and violence the way I did that night. He was dead because I’d killed him. He shouldn’t have fucked with the Hellers, shouldn’t have touched what was ours.
My hand curled into a fist on my thigh. Maybe I was territorial, but Levi was ours. I narrowed my gaze on her. Blood rushed through me hot and volatile. Her gaze met mine, and the laugh fell from her lips. She took a step away from Rook.
Good.
I’d never really had a girlfriend. The closest thing I’d come to caring was with Pippa and Dozer. We’d been good together, the three of us. But there was never going to be anything more than friendship between me and Pip. I wasn’t part of their love story—then the nightmare happened.
I couldn’t shut off my need to protect her, but I didn’t want back in her bed either. All I felt was relief. What the fuck did that say about me? I didn’t care about the girls I slept with, and I didn’t sleep with girls I cared about.
Maybe it explained my sudden possessiveness toward Levi. All I knew was my jealousy over her boyfriend simmered like acid in my gut.
I drank from a bottle of vodka like it was water although it wasn’t doing shit to improve my pissed-off mood.
“If he puts his hand on her ass again, I’m going to break it.”
Dozer paused with his beer at his lips. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“The juicer. Rook. Coop. Whatever the fuck you want to call him. I don’t like his hands on Levi.”
Dozer stilled as he stared at me. I knew what he was thinking. I couldn’t get jealous over a girl that I’d put in the friendzone. That didn’t mean I wanted her scoring with some juiced-up jock.
“Don’t be a dick, Romeo. You go near her, and you’ll fuck her up. Then I’ll have to beat your ass. Coop is headed to the NFL, he’s rich as fuck, and isn’t a biker. He’s fucking perfect for her.”
“He’s not one of us.”
Dozer drank his beer. “The only one of us she ever wanted was you. The only reason you’re interested now is because she’s found someone else.” He set his beer on the table. “Don’t fuck this up for her, Romeo. You’ll get bored in a couple weeks. I love you, brother. But you won’t be good for her, and Levi deserves better.”
That was the fucking truth. I was shit.
Besides Shannon, my foster mom, I had important women in my life. Levi, Jazzy, Hana, and Pippa. I suppose it was time to add Gabi to my list. They were off limits. Hana and Pippa were with Blade and Dozer. And Gabi was with Torch.
Levi was everything sweet and good. I’d wreck her, and I’d never been interested in virgins.
Outside of the special girls in my life, my pursuit of pussy was legendary. Always looking to get a girl off and get myself off. Females were beautiful. If I had a pussy, I’d spend all day playing with it. Sweet, wet, soft. I fucking loved sex.
Until the night Pippa was nearly taken from Dozer. Everything was changing. Including me.
Three years ago, Vance left the MC. Tonight, he’d patched back in, put on his cut, and took his place at our table. His return had a lot to do with his sister, Hana. The girl was a Heller before she ever wore the cut claiming her as the property of our president, Blade.
I turned to the girl next to me. Blonde, feisty, and overly opinionated, basically Jazzy was beautiful, but a bitch. I swear she had balls bigger than most of the patches in the MC. Her dad was the enforcer of the club. Apparently, that hardass-ready-to-fight attitude needed for the sergeant at arms patch was in the DNA.
Jazzy never backed down from a fight, especially one that could get a little bloody. Thank fuck she was more like a sister. A sledgehammer wouldn’t nail her down. If she had her way, we’d be skirting the lines of family. Not because she wanted me. Jazzy’s snatch had teeth like a Venus flytrap. I wasn’t getting close to her. Most days, I was just the biker with the good weed.
About now I needed a joint. I pushed away from the table.
Not only did I need to get high, but I couldn’t sit around and watch Rook take my crush. Fuck me.
I smiled, laughed, and pretended everything was fucking great. But my fuck-all life was shit. Had always been shit.
The story wasn’t a fucking fairytale. Maybe, like my name, it was more of a Shakespearean play. Life and death, love and hate, freewill or just destined to die a tragic death.
They called me Romeo. I was the pretty boy, the guy girls wanted to fuck at two in the morning. Too bad they didn’t believe me when I was honest. I wasn’t looking for anything more than getting my dick wet. As soon as they caught feels I was out. Emotional attachments were toxic.
But I had good friends, friends that I knew I could trust when there wasn’t much I could depend on growing up. I was a poor foster care kid who happened to luck into a house of Hellers. Shannon, my last foster mom, had a younger brother. She called him Rogue.
He was big, tough, and mean as hell. He was everything I wasn’t. And I had him to thank for everything good in my life. He took a scrawny kid, me, without shit to my name, hated people, hated to be touched, and brought me to the MC to make some friends. That’s when the crew made me one of them. We were tight then, tighter now.
This was where I belonged, a rented room in the back of the MC. I kicked the door closed and crashed onto my bed. With the flick of my wrist, I opened my Zippo, sparked the flint, and drew the flame to the tip of the joint.
The paper and weed burned, the sweet, pungent smell hitting me a moment before the mellowing burn as I inhaled. A curl of smoke escaped my nostrils.
A knock sounded on the door. Before I could tell whoever it was to fuck off, the door opened, and Jazzy let herself in.
“Thank god,” she said, bouncing onto my bed, snatching the joint from my fingers, and taking a few puffs.
“This is a private party,” I said.
“Good. I need a little quiet.” She passed the joint back to me.
“Hanging out in my room with the door closed is going to give the wrong impression.” If I had a girl in my room, it wasn’t usually to pass around a joint.
She snorted, flopped onto her back, and blew a stream of smoke from her pouty lips. “What’s wrong with us?”
“Nothing is wrong with me,” I said.
She rolled onto her side. “Romeo, you can talk about her.”
I covered the flare of heat rushing through me with a smile. If she was talking about what happened with Pippa, nah, that shit would stay inside me. Pippa was where she belonged, with Dozer.
And no way could she know about the fucked up thoughts in my head about Levi. I couldn’t want her and would never touch her because I’d hurt her. I wasn’t ignorant of her feelings for me. I just wasn’t prepared for her to have feelings for anyone else.
Shifting the focus away from me, I asked her about Vance. They had history. “He’s engaged,” I said.
“Nice try, but Vance and I were over long before he left the MC. It’s strange to call him Torch now, but I guess it makes sense. He’s changed.” She turned her head. “Everything is changing. Blade has Hana. I’ve never seen a more pussy-whipped boy than Dozer. Levi has Coop.”
I sat up. That was the shit I didn’t want to hear. “Has she fucked him?”
I could bite off my tongue. The words tasted like shit in my mouth. Levi was saving herself, wanted to lose her V-card like a fucking Hallmark movie. Not with some football player on a break from jersey chasers.
“I hope so.” She rolled onto her stomach. “You should be happy. She’s finally given up on converting you.”
I growled and took a swig of vodka. Then another.
Jazzy rolled off the bed. “I don’t know if it’s what happened to Pippa, or if you’re pissed at Dozer, but whatever it is, it’s fucking you up.”
She wasn’t one to offer hugs. That was Levi.
Jazzy paused at the door. “Get your shit together, Romeo.”
Yeah, that was more of what I expected.
The problem, this was me having my shit together.
Levi
I must have a sick and twisted need for punishment. Mental torment. I was a smart girl, went to Eminence University, and was dating the varsity running back for the EU football team, Greyson Cooper. Everyone called him Coop.
Yet here I was in the Heller Raiders MC still hopelessly in love with the bad boy that had me since puberty. I think it was Pippa that had said it best about bikers. Ink, muscles, hard dicks, and Harleys.
I wouldn’t know. I didn’t have a tattoo. I did have my ears pierced, as in one hole in the lobe with tiny diamond studs that my grandmother, Willow, had given me on my sixteenth birthday.
I don’t recall ever having a birthday with my mom and dad. Both were incarcerated. My dad would never walk out of the state pen. That’s what murder got a man. My mother would be getting manicures with her celly for at least another five years. She’d already served nearly twenty. Even if she did get out, I didn’t plan to ever see her again. I wasn’t anything like them.
Thank god I had my grandma and grandpa. I called them mom and dad. In the MC, he was known as Bear. Original Heller and while sweet to me, I’m pretty sure he could crush a skull in his bare hands. My mom was his ride or die old lady.
I wasn’t anything like my parents/grandparents either. Riding on the back of a Harley was fine, but wearing a cut declaring me someone’s property wasn’t going to happen.
I’d be twenty-two in a few months, and sadly, I was still a virgin because I’d foolishly been saving myself for Romeo as he fucked his way through the entire female population.
But I had a boyfriend now. My thoughts shouldn’t have been on Romeo. Tell that to my heart that refused to get the message. Romeo wasn’t interested. So, I’d taken a bit of his advice. The best way to get over one girl was to get on another. Only for me, I was trying to get over a pretty boy biker with a rugged, fit-as-fuck footballer.
As I danced, Coop slid in close behind me and curled his muscular arms around my waist.
“You’re killing me,” he said against my neck. His hands roamed over my hips, teasing with the edge of my short, pleated skirt.
I spun in his embrace, ran my hands up his chiseled chest, and then looped my arms around his thick neck. Everything about him was thick and hard, including the cock pressed to my belly. A cock I’d yet to get up close and personal with. “I’d hate to be the cause of your death.”
He smiled, causing a dimple in his right cheek. Butterflies fluttered in my tummy as his breath caressed my lips, and his fingers brushed against the bare skin of my midriff. Coop was huge, with long fingers that could span my waist.
“Every time I kiss you, I worry I’m going to get my ass kicked.”
“I’ve seen the guys you face off against on the field. You can handle a couple of Hellers.”
He chuckled. “Good thing Dozer likes me. I know he carries a gun.”
“We all do. Don’t worry about Dozer. He doesn’t need the gun.”
He lifted a brow. “We?”
“Yes, but I’m a better shot than Romeo. I’ll defend you.”
“You know your friends are scary as hell.”
“I do, but you can kiss me anyway.”
I wasn’t one for public displays of affection, but I did like the way his full lips slanted over mine. I’m sure the butterflies in my belly were from his soft kiss as he parted my lips, not from my insecurity because Romeo sat across the room.
I curled my fingers into the silky hair at the nape of Coop’s neck. Warmth tingled in my breasts as his tongue licked into my mouth.
With a heavy sigh, I inhaled the expensive scent of cologne lingering on his flesh. I fell for the eyes first. I wanted my soul pierced. I wanted someone to look at me like they would fight just for a taste of me. After the eyes, it was the smell. Even in the dark, I wanted to steep in the masculine scent of a lover.
I think. I couldn’t be exactly sure because I’d never experienced either.
“Are you daydreaming?” he asked with that dark as sin voice, deep and naughty, and paired with a smile to convert a nun to depravity.
Coop’s broad chest pressed against me, and he pulled me closer. He might be a running back, but he was built more like a bodybuilder. His thick thighs aligned with mine as he rocked the hard edge of his cock against my pelvis.
Breath rushed from my lungs. I’d been in this position before, feeling the effect I had on him, but still not sure what to do about it because I’d seen him have the same reaction for a red Solo cup full of rum and a large pizza.