CHAPTER FOUR

“A prez rules. Until it comes to his old lady, then he worships." - Rider.

 

 

 

“Roll over onto your belly, Icy.” Rider issued in his sex roughened voice. The president of the Renegade Souls MC was used to having his orders followed instantly, but for his old lady, he would cajole and seduce dirtily. He felt her shiver in anticipation, moving languidly like he hadn’t been fucking her for the best part of two hours already.

Could never get enough of his old lady.

Fucking obsessed.

Addicted.

Strung out on getting her sweetness down his throat, embedded in his skin.

“Aren’t you tired, honey?” He only caught half of that, what with her face smashed into the pillow. Rider paused to watch her raise up her ass, just stuck it there in the air. Fucking beautiful. He got two nice handfuls. Plump little thing now, his girl was putting on the weight she had lost, had an appetite to rival his and he fucking loved seeing her eat. If he allowed himself to think about all the days and months she’d gone hungry with her belly gnawing in on itself Rider would lose it and end up on the therapy couch alongside his girl.

He’d fuck her again and then bring her some food.

“Callin’ me old ain’t gonna get you the good shit, Icy. Didn’t you learn your lesson last time when I didn’t give you my cock?” He swiped a long finger through her juices making her shudder. A lesson in how to be patient.

He had the stamina of a bull in stud season where his girl was concerned.

Zara turned her face to the side to glare up at him. Icicles pinned and seduced. Rider only smirked noticing she didn’t return him any more of her gorgeous sassy-tongue.

His girl wanted fucking.

She was a savage for his cock and insatiable, once was never enough unless once was all they could have and he’d do her fast and hard and let it carry her through until he could really dig into her sweet pussy and stay there for hours.

His cock crawled up his abs, pulsed harder than ever as if he hadn’t been overworking it this past week. Hands stroked her from thigh to her nape and back again just to hear her moan, she was a tactile thing and loved his hands, that’s why he'd taken to giving her massages of an evening. More often than not, ten minutes later she’d end up on her back or riding the fuck out of him.

Raw and assertive, he prowled up over her body. They were on his twin bed in the clubhouse, he’d taken an hour off to spend some time with her, worried that she wasn’t feeling well the past few days, whatever virus she caught it was hitting her at odd hours, she’d wake feeling good but around mid-afternoon his girl would become tired and nauseous and need to lie down until it passed. With her aversion to anything medical, apart from their own Butcher, and even then, she’d only been under his care once and that was when she was unconscious, he couldn’t get her to agree to see the local doctor in town. I'm fine, Ambrosio. She said more than once, whilst she puked her insides out. He’d intended to push some food into her and talk her into going to see the doctor. Only when he’d walked her into their room for quiet downtime, she’d attacked, literally started ripping at his jeans until she’d broken the zipper, she was on her knees and sucking him off in the next minute and all thoughts of doctors had rightly fucked off out of his mind.

When his Zara gave him the best head of his life he was fully focused on her and her pink lips licking him in.

“You feelin’ okay, baby?” He asked against her nape, dropping kisses there and around her throat, his weight held off her though he ground her ass a little to get her going, she didn’t disappoint and moaned.

“Mmm, yes, biker-man. Don’t wait. I’m a sure thing.”

He laughed sliding a hand up underneath her, palming a perfect tit, tweaking the nipple. She split her legs and he growled. He could feel her sopping wet core, he ground some more with the tip of his cock, feeding the swollen head into heaven just a way in and no more.

“Rider!” She was all breathy.

“Yeah, baby?” He positioned. Braced a hand ready to slam home.

“I love you.”

“Fuck, baby. Love you, too. Hold on. Gonna go in deep.”

Her garbled groan was drowned out by the blankets again and Rider fucked his girl as god intended. Until she screamed his name.

 

 

He found Preacher out by the sheds glaring at his cell phone. “Trouble?” He inquired. Letting his road captain know he was there. He’d seen Preacher in mid-PTSD attack a few times and he never wanted to be the idiot who set him off.

“Nah, Prez.” He shoved the phone into his pocket, swept a hand up and down his beard, that tic he had of doing when he was uneasy. The last time being when he thought the club had a infiltrator when they were knee deep in Hades' shit, thankfully there was no spy and Hawk had killed that motherfucker so absolutely dead. Only a shame his best friend and VP was still lying low in different chapters around the country until the manhunt for Hades died down.

They were never going to find him, Hades, that was.

Not with the asshole burned to ashes and drained away in the sewers where all the shit went.

“You got a job for me?” Preacher pulled Rider’s mind from that cunt who had hurt his old lady, his jaw un-clenching one molar at a time.

“Sort of. H wants you back in Nebraska, just for a couple days. I said I’d check it with you.”

“Fuck. My ass only just got back. When?”

“Whenever you want, after the party, or early next week. See Texas for whatever seed money you’ll need for the trip.”

“Has the contact for the green gone tits up? I told him it wasn’t gonna be a big earner right away and to stick to the two auto-repair we got going. Steady money is better than drips.”

“Maybe he misses your pretty face,” smirked Rider and Preacher guffawed. “Not the green, he's happy about that. It's some bullshit with Genty. You know he'll only deal with you. Seriously though, if you’d rather not, I know the heat was bad with Red Light, I had hoped after all this time shit would have leveled off for the brother. I could do with him down here.”

   “Nah, Prez. I can handle him. I’ll head out next week, see what H needs me for this time. There’s potential of more than just the bike shop, but he might need seed money. That city has riches just waiting for an outlaw to snatch it up for himself. Gotta say though, Ri. His crew … some of ‘em, waste of fucking good spunk. Lazy motherfuckers. Just as well you have Red Light there, when I got there he was doing most of the build shit himself. He might be best kicking around there for a while instead of heading back to Kansas.”

“Yeah, H said much of the same a while back. But it’s up to him to clean his own fuckin’ house. We have the anniversary this summer, I’ll see for myself what jokers he has patched in.” Being the president of the mother chapter meant he not only had the interests of his own club to think about, but every chapter throughout the US that siphoned off his own, slowly, surely, the club as a whole was getting back to its feet after Rex ran it into the ground, and this year was the fiftieth anniversary of its birth. Every chapter was heading to Armado Springs for a blow-out party to end all parties.

“How’s our wandering sociopath, you heard anything from Hawk lately?” joked Preacher.

Rider smirked a little retelling the last time he’d spoke to Hawk a couple days ago. “He was ready to move on, apparently, NOLA is not for him.”

“Tennessee wasn’t for him, either was it? What was it, too many alligators? Fuck, no croc would dare come near that crazy shit. Can’t believe I’m missing his surly ass.”

“He’s gonna run out of chapters to lie low in.”

“The brother needs to get home. We would have heard something from the FEDs if they were looking our way.”

Rider ruminated a low hum in his throat. He thought the same. But still. “Best to keep him away for now. Even if he bitches more than my sister does.  I’m gonna head home for a while, see how Zara is.”

“Z-girl still sick?”

“Fuck knows. She’s sick then she’s not sick. She’s puking then she feels great. Eating like a horse, then she can’t stand the smell of my steak.”

Preacher laughed then rubbed his mouth, Rider glared. Bastard thought it was funny his old lady felt ill? He’d punch the beard off his goddamn face. “What?”

“Nothing, Prez,“ the smile grew bigger and wider. “Absolutely nothing. Give a big juicy kiss to the queen from me.”

“Fuck you.” Rider laughed and strode off.