★•★✯✯✯LIVE★•★✯✯✯
AN ISURGENT'S WEDDING
BY
CHIAH WILDER
*Blog tour Hosted by Book Club Gone Wrong*
Buy link: http://amzn.to/2gQcWFd
GoodReads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33223958-an-insurgents-wedding
AN ISURGENT'S WEDDING
BY
CHIAH WILDER
*Blog tour Hosted by Book Club Gone Wrong*
Buy link: http://amzn.to/2gQcWFd
GoodReads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33223958-an-insurgents-wedding
Blurb:
Since the beginning, everything about Hawk and Cara’s relationship has always been rough, hot, and passionate. When the VP of the Insurgents MC had first locked eyes with the feisty lawyer, he’d known he’d make her his forever. Cara fought the intense feelings she had for the rugged, tatted bad boy, but she finally gave him her heart and body. And now, they are finally ready to tie the knot. To join their two worlds, Cara is having her classy society wedding and Hawk is throwing a big biker wedding for his brotherhood.
Nothing can destroy their joy.
Then someone from their past materializes, lurking in the shadows, and waiting to destroy the happiness the couple has fought so hard to have.
When danger comes to Pinewood Springs, Hawk and Cara’s love for each other will be tested in ways no newlyweds should have to endure. Hawk will have to do whatever it takes to make sure his beloved woman is safe and by his side for life.
Will Hawk be able to be there for Cara when she needs him the most?
Weddings are stressful and marriage can be challenging, but when a woman marries an outlaw the stakes are higher and more dangerous than ever….
An Insurgent’s Wedding is 66,682 words.
Hawk’s Property, Book 1, is included with An Insurgent’s Wedding. It should be read first.
An Insurgent’s Wedding is Hawk and Cara’s continuing story. It is part of the Insurgents MC series and is NOT astandalone romance novel. Book 1, Hawk’s Property, must be read in order to understand and enjoy An Insurgent’s Wedding. This book contains violence, sexual assault (not graphic), strong language, and steamy/graphic sexual scenes.It describes the life and actions of an outlaw motorcycle club. If any of these issues offend you, please do not read the book. HEA. No cliffhangers! The book is intended for readers over the age of 18.
Federal Correctional Institution
Florence, Colorado
He watched as she shimmied down the hall, her big tits swaying, her keys clanging with each step. When she approached his cell, she threw him a quick furtive glance and then walked past, acting like he was just another inmate. His thin lips curled up; he knew that when she came back later with four other correctional officers to do a cell block inspection he’d have her up against the wall and rubbing her breasts while she pressed into him, grinding her pussy against him like a slut. He counted on it, as she was his ticket out of the hellhole he’d been sentenced to. Their time against the concrete wall would be fast, but it would be enough to wet her pussy and have her craving his tongue on it.
Viper sat on the edge of his hard bed. His cell was a cube of concrete with a small window placed in such a way that all he could see was the sky and the red tile of the adjacent buildings. Sounds echoed down the corridors, and the ever-present din of metal against metal filled his ears.
He’d been stuck in the high-security prison ever since he’d entered his plea of guilty more than two years before. Viper often entertained himself by recreating that night’s events in the way that they should have played out. He shook his head as the images of his downfall assaulted his mind. His unadulterated hatred for Hawk fueled him on; it kept him a model prisoner so he could lie low as he worked his magic on Officer Brenda Rourke.
A busty thirty-two year old, Brenda Rourke had worked as a correctional officer for the past ten years. She’d never been disciplined and had a stellar employee record, as she often told Viper. When he first spotted her six months before, she acted like he was just Inmate 10567, but the way she’d slide her eyes over him told him she was his ace in the hole in escaping. So he became the model prisoner. The fights between him and the Aryan gang members halted, he didn’t cuss out the prison guards, and he did as he was told. It fucking tore him up inside each time he answered, “Yes, sir,” but the anticipation of sweet freedom made his words sound sincere.
He’d even gone so far as feigning remorse for all the bad actions that had landed him in prison. That gem earned him the privilege of working in the laundry room, and it was there that he kissed and touched Brenda, her small moans disgusting him. She’d been the one to tell him that the security camera did its sweep around the room at thirty-second intervals. When it scanned past them, he had half a minute to shove his hand down her pants and touch her damp pussy. And it was always wet for him. It amazed him how horny she was for him.
After six months, she’d proclaimed her love to him in simple notes she left under his pillow after she inspected his room. He read them with humor, pretending to be touched by her proclamations of love. Her note from the previous week had read “I love you. I can’t live without you. I wish you were free.” Those were the words he’d been waiting to hear. She’d be instrumental in getting him out of the razor-wired fence compound that sat on a cleared patch of red-brown turf.
Viper leaned back against the cold wall, waiting for his favorite guard to come back for inspection, when all of a sudden loud shouts bounced off the walls. Pounding shoes on concrete filled the corridors as grunts and cries accompanied the thuds of bodies colliding. A stream of officers blurred past his cell as he fought to stay on his bed; he desperately wanted to be in the thick of the violence. He wanted to slam heads against the concrete, choke the life out of inmates and guards alike, and plunge his newly acquired shank deep into the belly of The Baron—the head of the Aryan gang who had a personal vendetta against all bikers.
Then suddenly, a deafening silence of voices.
Fuck! It’s gonna be another goddamned lockdown.Lockdowns occurred almost weekly in the violent atmosphere of that prison. Race wars were brutal and constant, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Lockdowns meant no more laundry room duties, no mixing with the general population, staying twenty-four seven in the cells, and no Brenda. Fuckin’ assholes!
When she came to his cell with another colleague announcing that there was a lockdown, her blue eyes held sadness as they shined from behind the taller guard. She mouthed, “I love you,” to Viper, and a faint smile twitched at his lips as she moved past his cell. He estimated that in less than two weeks he’d be free. Dustin and Shack were already setting things up so he could hide out at the Demon Riders’ clubhouse for a while. The fucking badges would never think to look there.
Dustin and Shack hated Hawk as much as he did. They also hated Banger, but even though he wasn’t a fan of the Insurgents MC’s president, Viper’s focus stayed on Hawk, the club’s vice president. He and his cunt were the reason he was locked up. And every time Brenda rubbed against his limp dick, his body burned with rage at what Hawk had done to him. He unclenched his fists and breathed in and out slowly. He’d have plenty of time to cool the rage that fired his soul, but for that moment, he had to remain calm and logical. In a short while, he’d be a free man.
***
“Do you love me?” Brenda gasped as his finger glided into her slippery hole.
“I fuckin’ do, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear, his eyes fixed on the scanning camera. “I just wanna be with you all the time. We need more than snippets of thirty seconds, babe.”
“I know,” she breathed into his ear as she rode his fingers.
“I want us to live together. Get married. The whole fuckin’ thing.”
“I want that too.” She jumped away from him and straightened her uniform. “We’re on camera again.” She moved away from him, and he hauled a pile of laundry into the dryer.
She stopped shy of the doorway. “I really can’t stand not being able to love you the way I want to.”
“I know. Me too. We’re gonna have to do something about it, sweetheart.”
She walked out of the room before the camera came back for another swipe.
I’ve just planted the seed in her empty head. He shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. It didn’t take much to make some women abandon everything for a man. He guessed Brenda hadn’t been all that popular with men in her lifetime. She craved his attention to the point that she’d risk her job and her freedom for him. What a pathetic whore. He chuckled while he loaded the washing machine with more orange jumpsuits—courtesy of the prison.
In order to make his escape successful, Viper had to enlist the help of the maintenance worker, Buddy Riester. From the background checks Dustin performed, Riester was ripe for the picking. He was broke, a gambler, and in desperate need of cash to pay off the loan sharks who were breathing down his neck. When Viper offered him half a million dollars for his assistance, the pimply faced Buddy agreed.
Over the next few weeks, time and again, Viper took Brenda into his arms as the camera moved away from them and whispered in her ear, “Sweetheart, I need you so bad.”
And she’d moan and hold him closer to her. Each time he did that, he hated the scent of her perfume more. It smelled like coconut and reminded him of when he was a child and his mother had slathered him in suntan oil. Brenda always pulled away just before the camera came back around. She’d blow him a kiss and say, “Someday we’ll be together. I promise.” Then she’d ambled away.
The next time when they met up, she told him she needed him with her forever. He leaned in and ran his tongue over her jawline, murmuring, “I want to be with you forever too. I wanna marry you. If only I could get outta here, we’d have our lives together.”
She swallowed and pulled back, her eyes wide. Viper cackled inwardly. “How could we do that? We’d be caught. It’d be worse for you… and me.”
“Don’t you love me, sweetheart? I know I love you more than any woman I’ve ever known.”
“Oh yes. I love you. I adore you.”
“Isn’t our love worth the risk? Anyway, I’m not stupid enough to stay here. We’d head to the border. Make our way to South America where we could live together in peace. It’d be our own adventure. I dream about it all the time.” He kissed her hard.
She lingered for a few seconds then jumped away as the camera made its sweep. “I love you,” she said then rushed away. Viper watched her go, a big grin spreading over his face. He gave her another week before she’d be in all the way. He’d have her arrange the details he’d lay out for her to effectuate his escape. She’d have to work with Riester, but he knew she’d do anything to make her fantasy a reality. With satisfaction, he threw in another load of laundry into the washing machine.
A few days later, Brenda held him close. “I’ve done nothing but think about what you said. South America sounds so exotic and romantic. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. What do you want me to do?”
Viper broke away and smiled at her. “You’re not going to regret this, sweetheart. I’ll go over the details with you tomorrow night. We’ll firm everything up, and in one week we’ll be holding each other for more than a fuckin’ thirty seconds.”
During the week, Riester, Brenda, and he firmed up the plans, and on the planned day, he leaned against the cement walls, looked around his cell, and spat on the floor. All his patience and efforts had paid off. It was finally going to happen.
As usual, bed check was at eleven o’clock, and Viper knew the officers on duty that night were the lazy ones who skipped opening up the cells and making sure the inmate was really the form in the bed. He counted on ineptness; it always made things easier.
Brenda had arranged for Buddy to place Viper in a laundry cart right after dinner. The cart would be one among three that were headed to another facility. Riester drove the transport trucks during the nightshift. Viper lay down in the bottom of the cart, sheets piled on top of him. Buddy rolled through several doors and then out the back one, pushing the cart to the truck. He opened the doors, wheeled the cart Viper was in then went back into the prison to bring out the other two. The clang of the truck’s back door sent a rush of adrenaline through Viper. As the vehicle rode through the checkpoint, he held his breath, only releasing it when the truck picked up speed and drove uninterrupted for a sustained period of time. After a while, Viper felt the truck slow down then stop. The doors opened, and Viper pulled himself out of the cart. Buddy lifted up one of the storage containers attached to the inside of the truck and Viper crawled in.
“It should only take twenty minutes max to drop off the carts. Then you can git into the trunk of my car until we git outtatown,” Riester said. Viper nodded.
After the three laundry carts were dropped off at the facility, Buddy parked the truck at the far end of the lot. It was dark and the perfect location for Viper to slink out of the back and slither into Riester’s car that was parked next to it. Secured in the trunk, Buddy drove out of the parking lot and headed out of town. When they were twenty miles from Florence, the vehicle stopped. Viper stretched his tall frame once he jumped out of the trunk. He slipped into the passenger’s seat and leaned his head back. “Don’t speed. We don’t need the fuckin’ badges to pull us over,” Viper mumbled as he lit a cigarette. He rolled down the window and let the cool air spread around him as Riester’s Toyota drove on the two-lane highway, silhouettes of houses and barns rushing past them.
Later that night, Brenda met him and Buddy in a small town a hundred miles from the prison. She threw her arms around him, but he pushed her away. “We have time for that later. We gotta keep moving.” He handed the rest of the money to Riester, knowing that he’d be killed before he made his way back home. There was no way Viper was leaving a witness. Dustin had arranged for a couple of the brothers to intercept Buddy and put a permanent end to his gambling addiction.
Brenda chatted incessantly as they drove deep into the night on their way to Iowa. Viper had taken some plates off a junked car a hundred and fifty miles back, so he relaxed a bit as he tuned her out and took a deep drag off his joint. It was an eleven-hour drive, and they’d already put a good seven hours between them and the prison. Viper knew they’d think he was either heading to the border or to stay with his brother or sister in nearby Kansas. They’d never think to look for him at the Demon Riders’ clubhouse. He was a nomad biker, so he didn’t belong to any one club.
About a couple hours from Johnston, Iowa, Viper leaned over and kissed Brenda on the cheek. “You ready to have a little fun before we get to the clubhouse?”
She smiled broadly, her blue eyes shining in her round, pasty face. “I’ve been dying to be with you since we met up hours ago.”
“Turn down this road and pull into the cornfield. We don’t want anyone spotting us.” He was grateful it was a moonless night.
She did as she was told, and then turned off the engine and faced him. “I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re together.” She giggled.
“Yeah.” He pulled her roughly to him and plunged his tongue down her throat, chuckling as she gagged. He ripped open her blouse and stared at her white, full breasts. He grabbed and squeezed them, twisting her nipples until she cried out in pain. He laughed and brushed her hand away as she tried to stroke his cheek.
He pulled, pinched, and bit her as she squirmed under his touch. When her hand covered his crotch, a startled look crossed her face. “Aren’t I exciting you? Don’t you want me?”
A bitter smile settled on his lips as his forehead creased. “You excite me plenty. I haven’t been with a woman since the night I was arrested. I got the desire, sweetheart. I’m just not able to get it up.”
Her eyes were wide. “Really? What’s the matter?”
“Hawk. The sonofabitch I’m gonna kill. I can still fuck you. It just won’t be with my cock.” Before she could answer, he was on top of her like a crazed animal, his hand over her mouth snuffing out her screams. He let his rage dictate his actions, and after some time she quit trying to push him off, quit crying against his palm. She just stopped. He released the hold he had on the belt he’d looped around her neck. Pushing her limp body aside, he straightened up and then lit a joint as he waited for the brothers to come and help him dispose of her body. He knew from the minute she checked him out that she had signed her death certificate. Outlaws never left evidence. Her car would be sold to an unscrupulous dealer for scrap metal, and Brenda Rourke would become another disappearance.
His eyes narrowed. He’d hit Hawk where he was the most vulnerable—his old lady. He’d bide his time, striking when the sonofabitch least expected it.
I’m gonna have a good time with his slut, and then Hawk’s a dead man.
Chapter One
Pinewood Springs, Colorado
“You didn’t like the almond filling?” Cara asked as she moved the slice of cake away from her.
“Babe, they all taste the same to me. I can’t believe we’ve been here for forty minutes and you still haven’t picked a fuckin’ cake for the wedding. What the hell?”
“If you were more helpful, it’d be easier.” Cara tossed her hair over her shoulder. “The chef is bringing out a couple more pieces. We have to choose. I want your input.”
He laughed. “I’m not a cake guy, you know that. Chocolate, vanilla, blue velvet, or whatever else is all the same to me.” He scowled as she giggled. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s red velvet cake, not blue. You’re sweet.” She blew him a kiss.
He pressed his lips together. “Whatever. You’re such a little smartass.” He shook his head as he scooped up a glob of frosting on his finger. Leaning over, he smeared it lightly on her nose and lips. Instinctively, she pulled back and picked up a napkin. “No way, babe. I’ll clean it up. Get over here.”
“You’re bad,” she said as she licked some of the frosting off her lips.
“Thanks.” He stood up and came over to her, bending down low, his hand tilting her head back. He licked off the icing from her nose and mouth, his tongue delving between her parted lips. She hooked her arms around his neck and his hand caressed her cheek as he kissed her deeply.
Someone behind them cleared his throat. Hawk kept kissing his woman, who brought her hands to his chest and pushed him back a little. Hawk straightened up and winked at her, then sauntered back to his chair. Cara’s face blushed red, and the chef, who held three more plates of cake samples, moved his eyes everywhere but on the two of them. Hawk threw his head back and laughed. The citizens’ world never ceased to amuse him.
For the next twenty minutes, he passed the time by picturing Cara smeared in the white frosting she and the pastry chef were gushing about. He’d love to lick every bit of it off her luscious body. As he imagined her writhing underneath him, his jeans grew uncomfortable. I’m gonna be pitchin’ a tent if Cara doesn’t hurry up and pick a damn cake.
“Hawk. I’m asking you if the white cake with the white buttercream frosting is a good choice.”
He nodded. Just pick something, babe. All I wanna do is make love to you. He didn’t realize picking out wedding cake would be such a turn-on. He smiled as he watched the crease across her forehead deepen before she threw her shoulders back and said, “Let’s go for it.” She glanced at him, her eyes sparkling like a fresh glass of champagne.
Florence, Colorado
He watched as she shimmied down the hall, her big tits swaying, her keys clanging with each step. When she approached his cell, she threw him a quick furtive glance and then walked past, acting like he was just another inmate. His thin lips curled up; he knew that when she came back later with four other correctional officers to do a cell block inspection he’d have her up against the wall and rubbing her breasts while she pressed into him, grinding her pussy against him like a slut. He counted on it, as she was his ticket out of the hellhole he’d been sentenced to. Their time against the concrete wall would be fast, but it would be enough to wet her pussy and have her craving his tongue on it.
Viper sat on the edge of his hard bed. His cell was a cube of concrete with a small window placed in such a way that all he could see was the sky and the red tile of the adjacent buildings. Sounds echoed down the corridors, and the ever-present din of metal against metal filled his ears.
He’d been stuck in the high-security prison ever since he’d entered his plea of guilty more than two years before. Viper often entertained himself by recreating that night’s events in the way that they should have played out. He shook his head as the images of his downfall assaulted his mind. His unadulterated hatred for Hawk fueled him on; it kept him a model prisoner so he could lie low as he worked his magic on Officer Brenda Rourke.
A busty thirty-two year old, Brenda Rourke had worked as a correctional officer for the past ten years. She’d never been disciplined and had a stellar employee record, as she often told Viper. When he first spotted her six months before, she acted like he was just Inmate 10567, but the way she’d slide her eyes over him told him she was his ace in the hole in escaping. So he became the model prisoner. The fights between him and the Aryan gang members halted, he didn’t cuss out the prison guards, and he did as he was told. It fucking tore him up inside each time he answered, “Yes, sir,” but the anticipation of sweet freedom made his words sound sincere.
He’d even gone so far as feigning remorse for all the bad actions that had landed him in prison. That gem earned him the privilege of working in the laundry room, and it was there that he kissed and touched Brenda, her small moans disgusting him. She’d been the one to tell him that the security camera did its sweep around the room at thirty-second intervals. When it scanned past them, he had half a minute to shove his hand down her pants and touch her damp pussy. And it was always wet for him. It amazed him how horny she was for him.
After six months, she’d proclaimed her love to him in simple notes she left under his pillow after she inspected his room. He read them with humor, pretending to be touched by her proclamations of love. Her note from the previous week had read “I love you. I can’t live without you. I wish you were free.” Those were the words he’d been waiting to hear. She’d be instrumental in getting him out of the razor-wired fence compound that sat on a cleared patch of red-brown turf.
Viper leaned back against the cold wall, waiting for his favorite guard to come back for inspection, when all of a sudden loud shouts bounced off the walls. Pounding shoes on concrete filled the corridors as grunts and cries accompanied the thuds of bodies colliding. A stream of officers blurred past his cell as he fought to stay on his bed; he desperately wanted to be in the thick of the violence. He wanted to slam heads against the concrete, choke the life out of inmates and guards alike, and plunge his newly acquired shank deep into the belly of The Baron—the head of the Aryan gang who had a personal vendetta against all bikers.
Then suddenly, a deafening silence of voices.
Fuck! It’s gonna be another goddamned lockdown.Lockdowns occurred almost weekly in the violent atmosphere of that prison. Race wars were brutal and constant, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Lockdowns meant no more laundry room duties, no mixing with the general population, staying twenty-four seven in the cells, and no Brenda. Fuckin’ assholes!
When she came to his cell with another colleague announcing that there was a lockdown, her blue eyes held sadness as they shined from behind the taller guard. She mouthed, “I love you,” to Viper, and a faint smile twitched at his lips as she moved past his cell. He estimated that in less than two weeks he’d be free. Dustin and Shack were already setting things up so he could hide out at the Demon Riders’ clubhouse for a while. The fucking badges would never think to look there.
Dustin and Shack hated Hawk as much as he did. They also hated Banger, but even though he wasn’t a fan of the Insurgents MC’s president, Viper’s focus stayed on Hawk, the club’s vice president. He and his cunt were the reason he was locked up. And every time Brenda rubbed against his limp dick, his body burned with rage at what Hawk had done to him. He unclenched his fists and breathed in and out slowly. He’d have plenty of time to cool the rage that fired his soul, but for that moment, he had to remain calm and logical. In a short while, he’d be a free man.
***
“Do you love me?” Brenda gasped as his finger glided into her slippery hole.
“I fuckin’ do, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear, his eyes fixed on the scanning camera. “I just wanna be with you all the time. We need more than snippets of thirty seconds, babe.”
“I know,” she breathed into his ear as she rode his fingers.
“I want us to live together. Get married. The whole fuckin’ thing.”
“I want that too.” She jumped away from him and straightened her uniform. “We’re on camera again.” She moved away from him, and he hauled a pile of laundry into the dryer.
She stopped shy of the doorway. “I really can’t stand not being able to love you the way I want to.”
“I know. Me too. We’re gonna have to do something about it, sweetheart.”
She walked out of the room before the camera came back for another swipe.
I’ve just planted the seed in her empty head. He shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. It didn’t take much to make some women abandon everything for a man. He guessed Brenda hadn’t been all that popular with men in her lifetime. She craved his attention to the point that she’d risk her job and her freedom for him. What a pathetic whore. He chuckled while he loaded the washing machine with more orange jumpsuits—courtesy of the prison.
In order to make his escape successful, Viper had to enlist the help of the maintenance worker, Buddy Riester. From the background checks Dustin performed, Riester was ripe for the picking. He was broke, a gambler, and in desperate need of cash to pay off the loan sharks who were breathing down his neck. When Viper offered him half a million dollars for his assistance, the pimply faced Buddy agreed.
Over the next few weeks, time and again, Viper took Brenda into his arms as the camera moved away from them and whispered in her ear, “Sweetheart, I need you so bad.”
And she’d moan and hold him closer to her. Each time he did that, he hated the scent of her perfume more. It smelled like coconut and reminded him of when he was a child and his mother had slathered him in suntan oil. Brenda always pulled away just before the camera came back around. She’d blow him a kiss and say, “Someday we’ll be together. I promise.” Then she’d ambled away.
The next time when they met up, she told him she needed him with her forever. He leaned in and ran his tongue over her jawline, murmuring, “I want to be with you forever too. I wanna marry you. If only I could get outta here, we’d have our lives together.”
She swallowed and pulled back, her eyes wide. Viper cackled inwardly. “How could we do that? We’d be caught. It’d be worse for you… and me.”
“Don’t you love me, sweetheart? I know I love you more than any woman I’ve ever known.”
“Oh yes. I love you. I adore you.”
“Isn’t our love worth the risk? Anyway, I’m not stupid enough to stay here. We’d head to the border. Make our way to South America where we could live together in peace. It’d be our own adventure. I dream about it all the time.” He kissed her hard.
She lingered for a few seconds then jumped away as the camera made its sweep. “I love you,” she said then rushed away. Viper watched her go, a big grin spreading over his face. He gave her another week before she’d be in all the way. He’d have her arrange the details he’d lay out for her to effectuate his escape. She’d have to work with Riester, but he knew she’d do anything to make her fantasy a reality. With satisfaction, he threw in another load of laundry into the washing machine.
A few days later, Brenda held him close. “I’ve done nothing but think about what you said. South America sounds so exotic and romantic. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. What do you want me to do?”
Viper broke away and smiled at her. “You’re not going to regret this, sweetheart. I’ll go over the details with you tomorrow night. We’ll firm everything up, and in one week we’ll be holding each other for more than a fuckin’ thirty seconds.”
During the week, Riester, Brenda, and he firmed up the plans, and on the planned day, he leaned against the cement walls, looked around his cell, and spat on the floor. All his patience and efforts had paid off. It was finally going to happen.
As usual, bed check was at eleven o’clock, and Viper knew the officers on duty that night were the lazy ones who skipped opening up the cells and making sure the inmate was really the form in the bed. He counted on ineptness; it always made things easier.
Brenda had arranged for Buddy to place Viper in a laundry cart right after dinner. The cart would be one among three that were headed to another facility. Riester drove the transport trucks during the nightshift. Viper lay down in the bottom of the cart, sheets piled on top of him. Buddy rolled through several doors and then out the back one, pushing the cart to the truck. He opened the doors, wheeled the cart Viper was in then went back into the prison to bring out the other two. The clang of the truck’s back door sent a rush of adrenaline through Viper. As the vehicle rode through the checkpoint, he held his breath, only releasing it when the truck picked up speed and drove uninterrupted for a sustained period of time. After a while, Viper felt the truck slow down then stop. The doors opened, and Viper pulled himself out of the cart. Buddy lifted up one of the storage containers attached to the inside of the truck and Viper crawled in.
“It should only take twenty minutes max to drop off the carts. Then you can git into the trunk of my car until we git outtatown,” Riester said. Viper nodded.
After the three laundry carts were dropped off at the facility, Buddy parked the truck at the far end of the lot. It was dark and the perfect location for Viper to slink out of the back and slither into Riester’s car that was parked next to it. Secured in the trunk, Buddy drove out of the parking lot and headed out of town. When they were twenty miles from Florence, the vehicle stopped. Viper stretched his tall frame once he jumped out of the trunk. He slipped into the passenger’s seat and leaned his head back. “Don’t speed. We don’t need the fuckin’ badges to pull us over,” Viper mumbled as he lit a cigarette. He rolled down the window and let the cool air spread around him as Riester’s Toyota drove on the two-lane highway, silhouettes of houses and barns rushing past them.
Later that night, Brenda met him and Buddy in a small town a hundred miles from the prison. She threw her arms around him, but he pushed her away. “We have time for that later. We gotta keep moving.” He handed the rest of the money to Riester, knowing that he’d be killed before he made his way back home. There was no way Viper was leaving a witness. Dustin had arranged for a couple of the brothers to intercept Buddy and put a permanent end to his gambling addiction.
Brenda chatted incessantly as they drove deep into the night on their way to Iowa. Viper had taken some plates off a junked car a hundred and fifty miles back, so he relaxed a bit as he tuned her out and took a deep drag off his joint. It was an eleven-hour drive, and they’d already put a good seven hours between them and the prison. Viper knew they’d think he was either heading to the border or to stay with his brother or sister in nearby Kansas. They’d never think to look for him at the Demon Riders’ clubhouse. He was a nomad biker, so he didn’t belong to any one club.
About a couple hours from Johnston, Iowa, Viper leaned over and kissed Brenda on the cheek. “You ready to have a little fun before we get to the clubhouse?”
She smiled broadly, her blue eyes shining in her round, pasty face. “I’ve been dying to be with you since we met up hours ago.”
“Turn down this road and pull into the cornfield. We don’t want anyone spotting us.” He was grateful it was a moonless night.
She did as she was told, and then turned off the engine and faced him. “I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re together.” She giggled.
“Yeah.” He pulled her roughly to him and plunged his tongue down her throat, chuckling as she gagged. He ripped open her blouse and stared at her white, full breasts. He grabbed and squeezed them, twisting her nipples until she cried out in pain. He laughed and brushed her hand away as she tried to stroke his cheek.
He pulled, pinched, and bit her as she squirmed under his touch. When her hand covered his crotch, a startled look crossed her face. “Aren’t I exciting you? Don’t you want me?”
A bitter smile settled on his lips as his forehead creased. “You excite me plenty. I haven’t been with a woman since the night I was arrested. I got the desire, sweetheart. I’m just not able to get it up.”
Her eyes were wide. “Really? What’s the matter?”
“Hawk. The sonofabitch I’m gonna kill. I can still fuck you. It just won’t be with my cock.” Before she could answer, he was on top of her like a crazed animal, his hand over her mouth snuffing out her screams. He let his rage dictate his actions, and after some time she quit trying to push him off, quit crying against his palm. She just stopped. He released the hold he had on the belt he’d looped around her neck. Pushing her limp body aside, he straightened up and then lit a joint as he waited for the brothers to come and help him dispose of her body. He knew from the minute she checked him out that she had signed her death certificate. Outlaws never left evidence. Her car would be sold to an unscrupulous dealer for scrap metal, and Brenda Rourke would become another disappearance.
His eyes narrowed. He’d hit Hawk where he was the most vulnerable—his old lady. He’d bide his time, striking when the sonofabitch least expected it.
I’m gonna have a good time with his slut, and then Hawk’s a dead man.
Chapter One
Pinewood Springs, Colorado
“You didn’t like the almond filling?” Cara asked as she moved the slice of cake away from her.
“Babe, they all taste the same to me. I can’t believe we’ve been here for forty minutes and you still haven’t picked a fuckin’ cake for the wedding. What the hell?”
“If you were more helpful, it’d be easier.” Cara tossed her hair over her shoulder. “The chef is bringing out a couple more pieces. We have to choose. I want your input.”
He laughed. “I’m not a cake guy, you know that. Chocolate, vanilla, blue velvet, or whatever else is all the same to me.” He scowled as she giggled. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s red velvet cake, not blue. You’re sweet.” She blew him a kiss.
He pressed his lips together. “Whatever. You’re such a little smartass.” He shook his head as he scooped up a glob of frosting on his finger. Leaning over, he smeared it lightly on her nose and lips. Instinctively, she pulled back and picked up a napkin. “No way, babe. I’ll clean it up. Get over here.”
“You’re bad,” she said as she licked some of the frosting off her lips.
“Thanks.” He stood up and came over to her, bending down low, his hand tilting her head back. He licked off the icing from her nose and mouth, his tongue delving between her parted lips. She hooked her arms around his neck and his hand caressed her cheek as he kissed her deeply.
Someone behind them cleared his throat. Hawk kept kissing his woman, who brought her hands to his chest and pushed him back a little. Hawk straightened up and winked at her, then sauntered back to his chair. Cara’s face blushed red, and the chef, who held three more plates of cake samples, moved his eyes everywhere but on the two of them. Hawk threw his head back and laughed. The citizens’ world never ceased to amuse him.
For the next twenty minutes, he passed the time by picturing Cara smeared in the white frosting she and the pastry chef were gushing about. He’d love to lick every bit of it off her luscious body. As he imagined her writhing underneath him, his jeans grew uncomfortable. I’m gonna be pitchin’ a tent if Cara doesn’t hurry up and pick a damn cake.
“Hawk. I’m asking you if the white cake with the white buttercream frosting is a good choice.”
He nodded. Just pick something, babe. All I wanna do is make love to you. He didn’t realize picking out wedding cake would be such a turn-on. He smiled as he watched the crease across her forehead deepen before she threw her shoulders back and said, “Let’s go for it.” She glanced at him, her eyes sparkling like a fresh glass of champagne.
Other books by Author Chiah Wilder
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Hawk's Property: http://amzn.to/1TU7Po
Jax's Dilemma: http://amzn.to/23ItQc5
Chas's Fever: http://amzn.to/1ScQhB7
Axe's Fall: http://amzn.to/1Wuh2UX
Banger's Ride: http://amzn.to/1U9PO5o
Jerry's Passion: http://amzn.to/2aQmhtR
Throttle's Seduction: http://amzn.to/2efuGhf
Rock's Redemption: http://amzn.to/2gU4E43
Box Set: http://amzn.to/2htllm0
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