Toxic Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Central Texas #3)

Chapter 1

The truth is rarely pure and never simple. - Oscar Wlde

P lague

“You want something?” my MC brother asks from behind the bar. Powerhouse or ‘ House ’ for short is probably the worst one of us to have bartending out of the entire club. We had a decent bartender for a while until a damn Oath Keepers MC member came through and made her fall in love with him. She rode off with Chaos and we haven’t seen her since. Last I heard, the brother bought her a business and was wifing her up. Seems like all their ol’ ladies own something or another in their territory.

We don’t have that problem around here; Prez’s ol’ lady spends her days coaching kids swimming teams while Blow’s woman is a goddamn US Marshal. We’re all still tripping over that one, especially Angel. I swear if he gets one chance to witness her slipping against the club, he’ll try to put her in the ground. Our crazy ass VP will go to war for her, so it’ll be one giant implosion that I don’t want to witness.

“I need to know if you’re gonna throwdown and kick some ass at the next brawl we drop in on,” I mutter, wanting to win some easy cash. Betting on fights is one of my favorite sports, especially when I’m not the one having to fight.

He huffs. “I’ve been busy.” For a massive dude, he sure does pout like an angry chihuahua. And by that, I mean he looks like he’s a nice dude (obviously not petite and cute) but he’ll punch your face off if he feels threatened just like those psycho tiny dogs attacking.

“Brother, you’ve been obsessing over fucking strippers . Not busy.” We can all see it plain as day, he’s in love over some rented snatch.

He cuts me a look, silently conveying he’s not pleased with me pointing the obvious out. “Fine, get your own beer. And just so we’re clear, Plague,” he mutters, rounding the bar with his longneck in hand. “Any fight I pick up, I’m gonna win. You and I both know as much.”

I shrug. “Just sayin’ if you don’t ever leave the bitches to go fight, we’ll never know.”

The SAA grumbles as he sits on a bar stool, twisting the cap off his beer and taking a hefty swig. The strip club is a sore spot for him. He’s a fairly easy-going brother and get some tequila in him and he’s goofy as fuck, but I’m not kidding about him being obsessed with a stripper chick down the road. It’s a little cliché, in my opinion, but whatever makes his dick happy, I suppose.

Manic, my prospect I’m sponsoring, comes waltzing in, looking high as fuck. He strolls behind the bar and immediately begins washing dishes. His eyes glazed while wearing a dopey grin as he washes, rinses, dries, then places the clean cup on the back shelf.

“The fuck happen to you?” House questions, beer bottle suspended midair on his way to taking another swig.

I chime in, “You eating shit from Baker again? I told you not to taste test for him, you’ll be high for the rest of your life.”

Baker’s made it his mission to get us to try his shit at least once, and it always ends up in whichever one of us is dumb enough being zoned out for at least a day. The brother makes the strongest shit. Your back hurt? No worries, eat a Baker brownie. You’ll be so fucked up you can’t walk the rest of the day. Fuck your back, you won’t feel anything below your chin to worry on it.

Manic busts into giggles, starting to hiccup midway through his outburst and me and House meet each other’s stares. We learned long ago that Baker lives up to his name and no matter how many times we warn the prospects, they always cave. Sure, it’s only a little green, natural, hell, even legal in some spots, but it’s never been my personal poison of choice.

“Make me a Seven and Seven when you get done cutting up over whatever’s got you tripping. Dumbass ,” I mutter.

The prospect just laughs harder, midway wiping his tears as they leak out from his happy trip. I don’t get it, how some people are like this, that shit makes me grouchy as fuck and want to sleep. Now, toss me a few pills I can pop, and I’m down. I’ll even go shot for shot with the brothers any night of the week, but keep the moody green shit away from me.

The phone behind the bar begins to ring and Angel appears out of nowhere like a fucking ghost, answering. He’s the Enforcer, so if shit’s going down, he or Prez are the best members to deal with it head-on. His glower finds me, staring me down while he grumbles something in response. He’s a real ray of fucking sunshine around here most days.

He hangs up, brow cocked. “Some bitch is at the gate claiming you’re her brother’s bff. You go join a new club we don’t know about, Plague?”

“Fuck,” I curse, not wanting them to give her any shit, which knowing the prospects, they probably already have. It’s what they’re supposed to do, but I don’t want her to deal with it.

“I let her through. Figured I’d ask her sexy ass myself. Prospect says she’s a fine-looking uppity bitch, wide hips and big tits.” He holds his hands out as if cupping a pair of tits or an ass, and it only serves to chafe my nuts over the idea of anyone looking at her like meat.

I resist the growl clawing at my throat and reply instead, “It’s not like that, Angel. Her brother and I grew up together. I don’t know why she’d come here, it must be serious, probably about Seth. Hope the fucker’s not dead or anything.” My chest hurts a little at the idea, but I quickly push it away, schooling my features in an I don’t give a fuck attitude so they don’t read too much into Lacey’s presence.

We all watch through the big bulletproof tinted front window from the bar as a cage pulls into the parking lot. The beauty of the tinted glass is that we can see out, but no one can see in. Our bikes are parked along the building, so she’s in the middle of the parking lot, her expensive cage standing out amongst all of our black and chrome. I cast a quick glance at my brothers hoping they’ll stay the fuck inside and not come out to be nosy. Who knows what’s up or the state she could be in and I don’t need them stirring the pot until I can get a read on the situation.

Leaving my heavy-handed poured Seven and Seven behind, I grab a bottled water from the end of the bar top counter on my way out. Heading for the picnic table off to the side in the shade, I lean my ass on the edge and place the bottle beside me. My feet rest on the ground, my hands on my thighs as I impatiently watch her climb out of her pearl white Mercedes sedan.

She hurries to me, more frazzled than I think I’ve ever seen her before. She’s younger than Seth and me, so I’ve watched her go through her awkward stages and even then, she tried her damndest to be presentable. I guess it’s what’s expected of you when you grow up in a rich, privileged lifestyle.

Her brother and I were never meant to be friends in the first place. We met by an off chance when we were six, both determined to play soccer. If it wasn’t for the community-based soccer program that threw us together each season until seventh grade, we’d never have had the opportunity to get close like we did.

After our second year of playing soccer together, it was impossible to keep us apart.

“Seth alright?” I check as soon as she’s close enough I don’t have to raise my voice. Her fresh flowery scent hits me and I draw in a deep inhale. Fuck, she always smells so damn good. It’s both a blessing and a curse, I’m convinced.

“He’s alive,” she responds ominously, but I don’t dig. She’s here for a reason, so she’ll tell me what I need to know.

With a nod, I reach for her, tilting her chin up until her sparkling gaze meets mine. She becomes more beautiful with each year. I hate it. “And you?” Obviously, she’s alive, but she wouldn’t be here if everything was okay. Her lip wobbles and my chest squeezes. I don’t know who in the hell made this girl upset, but so help me, I want to put my fist in their face for it.

I can’t stop from demanding, “Talk to me, Lacey. Who made you upset enough to come find me?” Tears crest in her stare and I quietly swear. “Who did this to you, baby ? Give me a name and I’ll fix whatever’s happened.” I’ll fucking wreck them without a second thought if she keeps crying.

In the next blink, she’s standing between my legs and wrapped in my arms, hers crossed tightly around my lower back as she burrows as close as possible. She inhales deeply, breathing me in for a beat before she exhales and admits, “My brother’s in trouble and I’m scared. T-they came to my apartment, banged on my door and said when they returned, they’d be taking me with them.”

“The fuck?” My muscles tighten, fury filling my mind at the thought of someone ever threatening this sweet, innocent woman. They have a motherfucking death wish.

“I can’t go with them, please. Please don’t let them take me away.”

“What did Seth do?”

“They said he stole something.”

“Seth?” I ask in disbelief. He has never had a reason or desire, for that matter, to steal from anyone.

She shrugs. “Things have been different lately. He’s been different. Th-those guys think my brother will listen to them through me,” she says with a hiccup from her crying. I won’t need Powerhouse to fight, I’m pissed off enough to break someone’s face on my own.

“Of course he will, your brother would do anything for you. What about your parents, did they threaten your folks, too?”

“My father and Seth, they were involved in something. I don’t know much…but he and my mom went to Switzerland. They said it was for a vacation but the last time I spoke to them, Mom told me they were staying there for good.”

“Moving to Switzerland? Your parents up and moved, just like that?”

She nods, her cheeks puffy and lips swollen from her crying and biting on them. The difference gives her an entirely new enticing look and I shouldn’t like it so much, makes me think of how she’d look with her gagging on my dick. Don’t get me wrong, I hate the fact she’s upset, she’s merely beyond gorgeous in the thick of it and distracting me in the process.

This situation is entirely not good. It seems her strait-laced father ended up not being so goody-two-shoes after all. Did he drag Seth into shit with him and then leave him here to take the fall or was it the other way around and my old friend managed to drag his father into a shit fest?

“Will you help me?”

I pull back from her enough so she meets my gaze once more as I admit, “Not for free.” If her parents have left the country, I know this is much deeper than some random guy showing up at her place and scaring her. This will probably cost me with my club, and possibly get me injured, maybe even shot. You never know with these things and which direction they may take.

“What do you want?”

“Same thing I’ve wanted from the moment you were still considered jailbait and first made my dick hard.” I couldn’t touch her then, but I damn sure can now.

She stares at me in shock, but she had to have known. I’ll never forget the time I was chillin’ outside by their pool in the shadows when she came out for a swim. Her curves encased in a tiny black bikini had me stroking my cock to her image more than once. I couldn’t even find it in myself to feel guilty over it either, she was hot as fuck, and I was horny.

“I want in that tight pussy between these perfect fucking thighs.”

On a whisper she agrees, and it’s far too easy, in my opinion. Makes me wonder if she’d have said yes to someone else if they’d wanted to taste her too. “Alright, Asher.”

“ Plague . Around here, I’m Plague.”

She scrunches her nose, looking so fucking adorable I want to nip it. “That’s the wrong name for you.”

“Nah, you knew a different person, baby. I’m a fully patched member, a Bastard . Now, prove it. Do as you’ve agreed.”

She sputters as I spin us, trading places with her. In the next beat, I’m on my knees, looking up at her. Her teeth sink into her pouty bottom lip as she watches me push her skirt up until her juicy panty-covered pussy is on full display for me, waiting to be touched. I love it that she has enough meat on her bones for me to grab on to. Fucking her is going to be everything I ever dreamed of. Possibly more, although, I do tend to have a fairly decent imagination, so that’s to be seen.

I gently stroke Lacey’s delicate slit, pressing her panties in a little more to see the plumpness I’m about to put in my mouth. Her eyes widen as she glances around, her breaths coming out in nervous pants. She asks, “Here? There’s a guy at the gate.”

“I’m only going to taste,” I murmur, unperturbed, shoving the material to the side and leaning in. My tongue slides against her clit before the rest of my mouth is on her and I’m sucking the tiny bud between my lips. I run the tip of my pierced tongue over it, stroking back and forth, gently but with purpose. Her hands fly to the sides of the table, griping it hard enough to turn her knuckles white. She gasps, then releases a noisy moan. It’s music to my ears.

I’ve wanted this for so long, I’m vibrating, my hands trembling as I hook her panties with my thumb so I can span my hands wide enough to hold both her thighs. My grip is tight, as I want to squeeze and eat at her pussy until she never forgets I had her like this. I pull away, my mouth finding her inner thigh, and I suck savagely. She yelps but doesn’t try to escape my hold as I leave a deep purple mark where it counts the most. Anyone who’s stupid enough to see it will know she had a man on her cunt recently.

“A-Asher,” she stutters, and I bite in reprimand, making her hands go to my shoulders, but she’s too weak to shove me away. She’ll have my teeth marks to go with the big hickey I’ve left behind.

Jolting to my feet, I grip the back of her thighs, pressing my jean clad hard cock against her soaked little core and thrust. She whimpers as I growl in her face, “ Plague . If you can’t call me by my road name, this won’t fucking work. I’ll have my bite mark tattooed on your delicious pretty cunt as a reminder.”

Her innocent gaze widens, her cheeks flushed as she pants. She wants to be scandalized, but I can read it all over her; she craves me, possibly as badly as I want her right now. “Y-you’ve gone feral .”

Her stunned sweetness has my stern mask breaking and a chuckle escapes. It was the last thing I expected to come from her mouth, and it has me thoroughly amused. Feral is a good word for what we become when we go full-fledged biker.

Her palm cups my cheek, her eyes going soft as she whispers, “There you are.”

A scowl replaces my grin, and I loosen my grip, allowing her to slide down my front until her feet are back on the ground, and I step back. With a jerky, quick tug, I have her stretchy neon-colored panties back in place and her skirt lower than it was when she got out of the car. None of the brothers or anyone for that matter need to be seeing the backs of her thighs, they’re far too enticing. Makes me want to see them pink with my handprints, marking her. I don’t want anyone having any thoughts about her being open for anything, because she’s not .

“I wasn’t finished,” she has the nerve to grumble, and it takes everything in me to not laugh about it. I can’t ease up right now as she needs to realize I’m serious about the road name. There are too many people around who aren’t fully patched members for anyone to be using my birth name. After the Blow debacle and trusting too soon, we’ve all re-evaluated and put our guards up.

“I got your mind off other shit,” I respond and head for my bike, cock still hard enough to make my balls ache, but it’ll have to wait.

“Where are you going?” she calls, then hurries to follow.

“To my bike. I want you to show me where the last place Seth was, and we can ride by your place to see if anyone has shown back up.”

“I can’t ride one of those!”

With a scoff, I roll my eyes, grabbing the spare helmet and turn to face her. “Sure you can. Lift your leg over the seat and then slide close enough your pussy is pressed up against me. Hold on tight. Easy as that. Besides, I didn’t offer another option.”

“Is everything sexual with you?” She stews, hurriedly grabbing her keys from the purse sitting in her passenger side seat, before shutting the door and locking it. The car beeps, the lights flashing behind her as she strolls my way.

“When it comes to you? Yeah. Has been for years.”

She pauses a beat too long. “Why do you look so tired?” Her curious gaze scans my face before her stare is worried for an entirely different reason, one I don’t need her digging into.

“Partied last night. Didn’t get the chance to have my hangover cure.”

“Which is?”

“More alcohol. More pills. Whatever I can find to make it disappear.”

She shakes her head, no doubt thinking I’m a lost cause. I leave out the part that I was drinking to make myself fall asleep. Without the liquor or an Ambien, I’d have been up all-night worrying.

My mother has cancer.

She’s had mini strokes, blood clots, along with a handful of other ailments off and on for as long as I can remember. It was one treatment, then another, then it was surgery. It all started with a biopsy after she had some weird symptoms appear, and that so-called small procedure changed our lives forever.

Why did I join the club? Why did I give up on anything outside this life? Why did they name me Plague? Because I always look like fucking death. I drink too much, pop too many pills when given the chance and allow myself to float away, because nothing I can do can help her. Do you know how useless it makes a human being feel when they can do absolutely nothing to help the person who gave them life?

Wiping the thoughts away, I think of the present, of who’s right beside me. “Get on,” I demand, holding out my hand to help her climb on behind me.

I wonder if Lacey knows the significance of being the only woman who’s ever been on the back of my bike. The brothers eagerly watching out through the bar window sure as fuck do.