“Oh God!” Rachelle cries, yanking my hair so fucking hard it makes me wonder if eating pussy leads to male pattern baldness. I could always start tying the ladies down first; the idea makes my cock rock hard. Sucking her clit between my lips, I hum in appreciation as I pump two fingers in and out of her pussy. Arching her hips, she falls apart for me, screaming my name as she comes.

Rachelle is an attorney. She has represented me, along with a few members of Twisted Mayhem, over the last few years. Her hourly rate to represent the club is more than most people make in a month, but the gorgeous blonde always gets me off.

I’ve been dying to do the same for her.

Only outside the court room.

Settling my feet back on the floor, I free my cock from my jeans. Yanking the condom from my pocket, I tear it open with my teeth and prepare to give her exactly what we both need. “Say it,” I ground out, staring down into her brown eyes as I lean in to tease her clit with the head of my cock.

She licks her lips. “Please,” she breathes, bringing her leg up so that her ankle is resting on my shoulder. “Don’t make me beg, Schrader.”

As much as I would enjoy doing that, my dick doesn’t agree with that whole delayed gratification bullshit. He’s a greedy prick.

Grabbing her hip, I thrust balls deep. Rachelle’s eyes drift close, a long moan leaving her lips. “Fuck, you feel good, beautiful girl.” Running my hands along her body, I keep my eyes locked on her tits as they bounce. “Get your fingers on that clit, Rachelle. Get yourself there.”

“Schrader,” she pants, doing exactly as I say.

“Mhm,” I grunt, my toes curling in my boots when her cunt tightens around my cock like a vise, pulling me deeper. “That’s what I want.” My phone vibrates against my thigh making me tense. “Goddamn cockblockers,” I bark, digging the damn thing from my pocket. Keeping one hand on Rachelle’s hip, I accept the call and put the phone to my ear. “Kinda busy here, Torch.” Looking down at Rachelle, I wink.

“We’ve got a fuckin’ situation here, Brother,” he barks into the phone, sounding pissed.

“I know what you mean,” I groan, moving in and out of her slowly. “I’m buried pretty fuckin’ deep here myself.”

“Ah!” Rachelle cries out when I grind against her. “Don’t stop, Schrader.”

“The fuck!” Torch shouts into the phone. “Teague just blew up our goddamn auto parts building and you’re gettin’ your dick wet?”

“He what!” Releasing my hold on Rachelle immediately, I pull out of her and take a few steps back. “You fuckin’ with me?”

“Do I sound like I’m fuckin’ with you?” he barks into the phone.

“On my way.”

“You’re leaving?” she asks, sitting up, disappointment clear in her voice. “We’re not finished yet.”

“Yeah,” I huff, scrubbing a hand over my face. Removing the rubber, I toss it into the small wastebasket beside the nightstand. Tucking my dick back into my pants, I shove the phone back into my pocket. “Gotta go, Babe.” Grabbing the rest of my clothes, I yank them on as I head for the door. “Keep your phone close. We may require the type of services you can’t perform naked,” I shrug. “Not that I mind.”

“Oh my God!” she shrieks, throwing something at me that bounces off the wall. “You’re crazy, Jason Schrader.”

“She’s just figurin’ that out?” I ask myself, shaking my head. Laughing, I run out the back door and head for my bike.

Riding back to the clubhouse, I replay Torch’s words in my head. Anger roars through my veins, my grip tightening on the throttle so hard my knuckles ache. Motherfucker. Maxwell Teague has done business with Twisted Mayhem for years. A few weeks ago, when we went head to head with the Hywood Brotherhood over our President’s Ol’ Lady, Roanne, Teague was right there to help us out when she was kidnapped by a Brother who betrayed the patch for his side piece of ass. Without his help, that shit storm would have ended very differently. Up until now, we considered Teague and his crew allies.

An attack like this only means one thing.

The war that began with the Hywood Brotherhood and Roanne’s father, Alfred, isn’t over.

And the battle lines are being re-drawn.

In blood.

Not that I mind a bloody battle. I live for shit like this when it isn’t brought into our town and dropped in our goddamn lap. Or delivered to our auto parts shop in the way of explosives. We go above and beyond to make sure shit like this doesn’t happen. Now, it feels like we are beginning to lose our foothold in our own fucking town.

I don’t fucking think so.

Legion Falls is our town. Has been since the M.C. was started by Huck, Doc, and Uncle Vic over twenty-five years ago, after my mother nearly died from a drug overdose. Drugs, and the crime that comes along with it, was bleeding into our little town from the larger surrounding cities. Seeing the approaching shit storm, the guys decided to take action and take back the town; promising to keep those who live here safe. Using Doc’s former military contacts, Vic’s brains, and Huck’s ability to bullshit himself out of any corner he is forced into, they started putting together their plan of action. Alliances were formed with other clubs, making moves that have paved the way for what we have become. Back then, McKelvy was just a snot-nosed rookie with a bad attitude of his own. Twisted Mayhem may have him in our pocket, but thanks to that, the fucker sits nice and prominent as Chief. He can bitch about risk and his responsibility to the shield all he wants, it’s the dirt he helped sweep under the rug all these years that made him.

It is important to me to carry on the legacy of Twisted Mayhem, and the history that was like a bedtime story for me growing up. With my mother in and out of rehab well into my teenage years, before her addiction finally killed her, Uncle Vic and the guys have been the only family I have ever really had. There was never any question in my mind that I would one day wear the Mayhem Patch. I have lived and breathed this club longer than I can remember; it is a part of me as much as this town, and the blood running through my veins. My position as Sargent at Arms comes naturally, there is nothing more important to me than protecting this club, our members, Mayhem bylaws, and every square inch of our fucking territory.

And when someone threatens that, my top priority is retribution.

Figuring the goddamn law has got the road blocked off, I take the back way into the compound, through Lotus Ridge. Spotting the clouds of black smoke, I park beside the row of junked cars and shut off my bike. “Holy shit,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face. “He wasn’t kiddin’.” Spotting Doc and Shy standing at the back of the clubhouse, I head their way. “Everyone whole?” I ask, fishing out my smokes and lighter from my shirt pocket.

Doc nods. “Building’s a total loss. Whole goddamn shipment, too. Jinks got banged up. Everyone else was either inside or headed there. Right before Johnny fuckin’ law showed up, Huck and Torch managed to sneak out in the van with a load of ‘shine and guns to hide in the bunker out in Shadow Ridge until we get the all clear from McKelvy. Gotta cover our asses.” Looking me over, he arches a brow. “Where have you been, Pretty Boy?”

Lighting my cigarette, I shrug. “Sunrise service.”

Doc snorts. “If you’re a Catholic, I’m competin’ in the Miss U.S.A. Pageant.”

Blowing out a puff of smoke, I shudder. “That’ll make for an interesting swimsuit competition.” Draping my arm around Shy’s shoulders, I bump her hip with mine. “How’s my favorite girl?”

Shy exhales harshly, but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I’m fine.” She nods her head slowly. “All good.”

I don’t buy it for a second. Her face lacks its usual rosy color and her blue eyes are much too large for her face. The last several weeks have taken their toll on her. Much like me, Cheyenne has lived and breathed the Twisted Mayhem MC every day of her life. She is strong, I know that. I have seen it firsthand. But even the strongest people have their breaking point. Having been married to the man who betrayed the club has to be a hard pill to swallow. I see the guilt and hurt in her eyes every day, even if she won’t admit it. She feels responsible for what happened. I think that we all have in some way or another, but no one saw that shit coming until it was too late. Fucking traitor is rotting in hell, right where he belongs after putting his goddamn hands on her and turning on all of us.

My only regret is that it wasn’t my bullet that put him there.

Piece of shit met his maker just the same.

My eyes move back to Doc. “Ro still up at the house?” I ask, knowing that Stone wouldn’t want her alone with this kind of shit going on.

“Hell no. She’s already inside,” he replies, jerking his head toward the opened back door. “Stone sent Jace after her, immediately, while he dealt with the mess. This ain’t good, Brother. Huck’s even swingin’ by and draggin’ Nita’s ass back here for the lockdown.”

“Huckleberry’s bringin’ Nita here?” I ask, knowing it has to be a pretty big fucking deal to get Huck’s Ol’ Lady to leave the family farm.

His eyes move to Shy, watching her carefully. “Need a minute, baby girl.”

Stepping out of my grasp, Shy holds up her hands. “I know how this works, Pop. I’ll go put some coffee on and throw some food together. I’m sure the Chief is expectin’ us to cater this bonfire.”

“Good to see her sense of humor didn’t leave with her appetite,” I mutter once she steps inside, shutting the door behind her.

“No shit,” Doc shakes his head, the smile fading from his face. “Never worried a day for that girl in twenty-three years. Until now. Should’ve shot the son of a bitch when he asked to date her. Would’ve saved her a shit-ton of heartache.”

I nod. “Bastard left some deep wounds. But you raised a strong woman, Doc. She’ll get through it.”

Grabbing the pack of cigarettes and lighter from my fingers, he lights one for himself. “Yeah.” Blowing out a puff of smoke, he jerks his chin in the direction of what used to be our auto parts shop and garage. “Goddamn Teague. This bullshit brings nothin’ but more trouble our way.”

“We’re gonna need to do somethin’ about that,” I growl, my mind already spinning with a dozen different ways to kill him.

“Damn right we do,” he replies, his jaw ticking angrily. “Stone will have us all at the table the moment the lot’s cleared out.” He arches a brow at me. “Until then, go shower and grab some food. You look like shit.”

“I’m all set.” Dropping my cigarette to the ground, I crush it with my boot. “I had Rachelle for breakfast.”

“Rachelle Harding?” Doc coughs, choking on his cigarette.

“That’s right,” I reply, waggling my brows. “She gets me off in the court room, the least I could do is get her off in the bedroom.”

“Guess I should be expectin’ her to bill extra this round for havin’ to fake it?” Jinks snorts, stepping around the side of the building. He has a slight limp, and his clothes partly covered in what looks like a mix of blood, grease and dirt. There’s a small gauze bandage taped up on the side of his head and some stitches across his cheek.

“Extra my fuckin’ ass,” I argue, flipping him off. “She should be payin’ me.” Blowing out a puff of smoke, I gesture to his war wounds. “Get that from the blast?”

“Damn near got one of my nine lives,” Jinks replies with a slow nod of his head.

Doc leans back against the wall, blowing out a long breath. “Fire out?”

“Mostly,” Jinks nods again. “We’re damn lucky that blast didn’t hit the propane tanks or the gas lines. Would’ve leveled the whole goddamn lot.”

“Thank fuck for small favors,” Doc huffs, dropping his head. “Had he gotten it right, we’d all be dead.”

“Teague’s guy didn’t fuck up the charge,” I say, debating the scenario in my head, based on what I know so far. “He planned it this way. Deliver early enough that no employees were workin’ in the shop that didn’t wear a patch. Had the same driver doing the deliveries for months. They knew how shit ran around here; knew exactly where we stored the crates.”

“You think Connor knew?” Doc says, meeting my eyes.

“Of course he did,” Stone booms, rounding the corner of the building and moving toward us. “He was the detonator.” Looking at Jinks, he laces his fingers, cracking his knuckles. “Find him. He doesn’t leave the state.”

Nodding, Jinks quickly heads inside, no doubt getting his ass to work. I can feel the adrenaline running through my body, the thrill of retribution. I fucking love it. “You want me to take the lead on this, Prez?” I ask, my lips twitching with a smile.

Stone nods. “Extend an invitation he can’t refuse.”

My smile widens. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely.”

I’m about to teach Connor that you don’t play cat and mouse games with a goddamn Rottweiler.