Meat Grinder (Sons of Khaos #5)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Grinder

“Choo choo, motherfuckers! The cum train is leaving the station, all a-fucking-board!” The entirety of the clubhouse groans except, of course, for the willing passengers ready for a fun ride.

A few of the brothers turn their backs, as if they could even ignore the sexfest we’re about to embark on.

Sledge, our resident Brit, leans against the back of the couch, grinning like a toddler at a magic show.

He’s hot as fuck, all square jawed and ocean-blue eyes with a perfect set of pearly white teeth.

Sadly—or maybe thankfully—he’s as straight as a ruler and dick’s not his jam.

Me? I’m an equal opportunity fucker. If there’s a slick, hot, hole, I’m likely to stick my cock in it. With a condom, of course. I’m not a complete fuck up.

“You playin’, Sledge?” I mean, one never knows, right?

“Nah, mate. Just watchin’.”

In a single file line, I grin as about six people, four women—or Khunts as they have so sweetly named themselves after the Sons of Khaos—and two men head for the long hallway.

The goal of this game is to suck or eat out, depending on the junk at your disposal.

They all stand against the wall in their preferred positions with either their dicks or pussies or asses out and ready for the eating. Then, the feast begins.

“Boner, you need to keep time. No cheating in this game, it’s against the ten commandments,” I call out over my shoulder to my best friend as I take my blindfold out of my pocket. What? I like the surprise element of this game.

“Fuck off, Grinder! I’m winning this hand of poker, I ain’t moving for shit.” Asshole.

“You’re a fuckin’ traitor. How dare you choose money over my pleasure.” I don’t even get a verbal response from him, just a high placed middle finger for my outrage. I’m not even asking Crow. He always refuses because he likes to watch. Fucking voyeurs…they’re no fun.

“Mackenzie! My favorite human. Come time me, please.” I mean, it’s worth a shot, right? Mac is always up for some fun, but I’m not too hopeful for this one.

“I will fuck you up, Grinder. Don’t ever ask my wife to supervise your crazy-ass sex games again.” Fucking Psycho.

“She’s her own woman, you neanderthal. Let her speak for herself.” My club brother may be a compulsive hot head capable of literally ripping people’s limbs right off their bodies, but I’m not scared of him. Especially now that he’s a father. He’s gone soft.

If soft means a crazy fucker capable of shooting anyone who dares come too close to his baby.

“Yeah, I’m not watching you or timing you while you do whatever it is that you do.” Mac calls out, and I now realize we have way too many prudes in this club.

“I’ll do it!” Bash walks over to me, beer in hand and eyes scanning the line of willing sex partners in various stages of undress. Why didn’t I think of him earlier? He’s young, hot, and single. Only way to be when you’re living your best life in a motorcycle club for deranged speed addicts.

Ride, die, and bleed for speed. Some of these old fuckers seem to have forgotten our motto.

“Ah, Bashypoo! You’re my new favorite. Here, take my watch and make sure no one cheats. Thirty seconds per passenger and the train isn’t allowed to touch him or herself. Last to come, wins.” I put my blindfold on and do some mouth exercises to loosen up my jaw.

“What do they win?” Hmmm, I hadn’t thought it all out but we’ll stay simple and go for a crowd pleaser.

“Free drinks for two days.” I’m not going longer because some of these assholes could bankrupt us with their drinking habits.

“What if they don’t drink?” I pause, pull my blindfold down over one eye, and narrow it at Bash.

“Name one fucking person in this club who doesn’t drink.”

“Mac, Athena, Sabrina, and Vanessa drink very little. Bear sips one beer all fucking night long. And by all night, I do mean for a couple of hours since they’re outta here by eight p.m.”

I roll my eyes and point behind me to the sex train.

“Are any of them presenting their dicks and pussies?” Raising a brow and cocking my head to the side, I make sure to sound as condescending as possible.

“No.”

“Well then, problem solved.” My dick is almost soft after all of this talking. “Thirty seconds, not one over.” I raise my blindfold back over my eye and turn, ready to jump on the pleasure train. Behind me, everyone has gone back to whatever it is they were doing.

Some are talking, others laughing. Drinks are being served up, glasses slamming on the wooden bar after shots are taken. The club door opens then closes, voices greeting whichever brother has just come inside. I fucking love this life.

The sounds and the smells—all leather and sex and alcohol and weed—are familiar and feel like a warm blanket around my shoulders.

“Violet!” She’s one of our oldest Khunts, and after she tried getting in between Mac and Psycho, she learned the hard way that if she wanted to stay, she needed to learn about boundaries. “Get me some snow.”

“Jesus freeballing crucifix.” Ah, the no cussing rule is still a thing, I take it? As if Gryffin—Mac and Psycho’s baby—will be protected from a few fucks and shits. Hell, it’ll probably be the first word out of his mouth.

I ignore mother Mac and put my hand out, palm up. When Violet gives me a spoon, I’m careful to bring it to one of my nostrils, inhale fast, and groan.

Dinner time.

“Thanks, beautiful.” Taking a deep breath, I walk up to the first body I can touch and breathe out. “Bashy, time!”

First body is a dick, and for thirty seconds I suck that thing like my life depends on it.

When I’m done, that person has to wait to be tapped in, then he steps out of the line and sucks or eats whoever is next to him.

Once we’ve gone through the train, we stand at the end of the line and wait to be sucked.

This continues until last slut standing.

The blindfold isn’t necessary, but I prefer it.

I suck one dick and eat another guy’s ass with pussy galore in between. It’s my favorite meal, and let’s not forget that cum is high in protein so I’d like to be the one who gets the cum prize.

“Time!” Softer lips are now sucking my dick, her tongue swirling around and around my shaft, and she even remembers my favorite part…the tip of the tongue inside my pee hole. I have to fight the urge to empty my ball sack in her mouth, that’s how good she is at this.

“Ahhhh. Juniper, is that you, hot tits?” She’s my favorite cum dump and I’m not being an asshole, those are her words, not mine. With a mouth full of cock, she can’t exactly speak, so she hums and I know. “Good girl. And don’t cheat. No touching yourself.”

“Time!” Fuck, those thirty seconds went way too fucking fast.

I decide to switch it up during the shift change, turning so my ass is in the air, my fingers spreading my cheeks apart. I know for a fact that after Juniper I’ll have one of the male Khunts who has been hanging around the club these last two months. He eats ass like a fucking pro.

“Fuck yeah, Tommy, that’s it. Goddamn!” Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come.

As I’m repeating my mantra over and over again, I hear two women moan at the same time and Bash yelling, “You’re out!”

I don’t care about winning. Okay, that’s never true, but my goal here isn’t about getting free drinks, it’s about getting off. And there’s nothing better than a little edging to make your eyes cross when you do finally come.

Somewhere in my sex and coke fog, I hear a baritone voice that hits my ears when he laughs out loud. I know that voice. I’ve been trying to fuck the owner of that voice for almost two years now but he’s got some hardcore skills in resisting my sexy ass.

As Tommy is eating said sexy ass, tongue probing my hole and lips sucking like his life depends on it, I picture the man with the deep, soulful eyes.

The hot-as-fuck paramedic who has saved us more than once since we’ve known him is here, and I want nothing more than to drag him back to my room and show him exactly what he’s been refusing to have.

“It was a crazy day, I’m telling you! We miss you at the station, that’s for sure.

You would’ve laughed your ass off!” Fucking Spencer the delicious paramedic.

Just the thought of him on his knees sucking my dick like good boy has me losing my fucking mind.

The coke in my system doesn’t help either, but that voice is what drives me over the edge.

I come, hard as fuck, without even touching my junk.

“Goddammit!” I moan and yell all at once. I’m pissed that I lost, but at the same time, I can’t ignore how fucking good it feels.

“You’re out!”

“No shit, Bashlock.” Ripping the blindfold off, I stand before pulling up my jeans.

Damn, I just coated the entire wall with my spunk.

I’m going to get a whole lot of shit for that.

“Lick it up, Tommy.” Walking away, I don’t need to check to know he’s being a good little Khunt and cleaning up my mess like I asked him.

Everyone else, at least those who haven’t come yet, continue playing but I’m not interested in the fuck train anymore.

I’ve got my sights on something—someone—else.

As I pass Bash, he ribs me for not lasting longer, but I ignore him, my glare a living, breathing thing that Spencer must feel at his back. He turns, almost in slow motion like some kind of fucking meet cute in a romcom.

This ain’t no romantic comedy, this is motherfucking porn and he ruined it for me.

Or did he just make me come harder than ever without even his physical presence or touch?

I don’t fucking know and I don’t care. This can’t become a thing, where he shows up and I bust a nut.

What the fuck kind of newbie teen shit is that?

The only way to put an end to this bullshit is to nip it in the bud. And I do mean that quite anally.

“Hey Spence, c’mere.” The place goes silent, I’m talking walk-into-a-saloon-with-your-weapons-drawn kind of silence.

Spencer is looking around, frowning like some kind of unaware sex god, no doubt trying to figure out what’s going on.

“What the fuck is this? A goddamn western? Go back to your business, you buncha nosy pricks.” I need to do something with my arms so I cross them over my chest. Which is bare, and that’s normal, considering I’ve been getting my favorite parts licked and sucked for the last ten minutes.

“Is there a problem?” Fuck, that deep voice.

My dick goes instantly hard all over again.

These assholes, supposedly my brothers in arms, don’t follow instructions very well and I feel an insane number of eyes staring at my cock.

After all, it is too big to be confined, which means the head is peeking out wondering if anyone wants to pretend it’s an ice-cream cone.

“Yeah, there is. I need to speak with you in private, please.” My please comes out more like a “right the fuck now” but whatever. Blame it on the premature post-coital buzz.

“You can talk to him right here in front of us, Grinder. I don’t like the tone you’re using on my bestie.” Fucking Mac. I love that woman to death, but I swear she’s becoming more and more like Psycho every single day. You’d think she’d rub off on him a little too, but no. Not even close.

My glare goes from Spencer—who looks terrified and it’s doing things to my libido—straight to Mac. As I open my mouth to ask her if she’s pregnant again, because hello hormones, Psycho stands.

To be very clear, that motherfucker looks scary as fuck on any day.

I don’t know if it’s the Greek origins where his dark eyes go all murderous or the sheer height of him.

Personally, I say it’s the fact that he can look like he wants to rip my head off, all the while holding Gryffin and rocking him like a gentle teddy bear. The contrast is terrifying.

“Brother, I don’t know what you’re about to say, but I suggest you check yourself.” Translation: Disrespect my wife and I will end you. Duly noted.

“Fine.” I make a face at Mac that’s toddler-worthy, then turn right back to Spencer, who is now full-on facing me, his chocolate eyes intense as he stares at my monster cock.

And no, I’m not fucking exaggerating. “Spencer, I would very much appreciate it if you would stop hanging around here. It’s distracting.

” My dick twitches as if to agree but also wanting to strangle me.

Why aren’t I seducing him? Flirting is my best hard skill, second only to killing.

Or riding. Maybe both. I take it back, it’s a three-way tie…

exactly how I like my sexual experiences.

I know why I’m not flirting. I’ve been trying to get into Spencer’s pants since the first time I saw him.

He was either dating someone or grieving some dick head who betrayed him—I wish I could bring that motherfucker back to life just to kill him myself.

Once he was better, he wasn’t emotionally available for a relationship.

Who, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck said anything about emotions and relationships?

“Distracting?” His eyes finally meet mine and I wish he’d go right back to staring at my dick.

I lift my chin and double down like the asshole I am. “Yes. Dis-fucking-tracting.”

“How…exactly?” Spencer’s brows are slanted in confusion and it only makes me want to smooth the wrinkles away with my tongue.

“I was playing a game and your voice made me come.” I cannot be any clearer.

“Wooohooo! And Juniper for the win!” As if on cue, the moans and groans are followed by the high pitched scream of one pretty little Khunt who will be drinking for free for two days.

Hooking my thumb over my shoulder, I cock my head to the side. “Case in point.”

“Grinder, you’re being ridiculous. You lost at Cum Train. It’s no big deal. You can’t blame that on Spencer. What the fuck is wrong with you?” She’s laughing and yelling at the same time, which looks a little psychotic on her.

Don’t get me wrong, Mac is hot as fucking fire, but she becomes a lioness when defending those she loves.

“I was doing just fine until he started laughing and shit.” Then an idea hits me. “There is one way to make it up to me.”

“Oh shit.”

“This should be good.”

“Run, Spence, this ain’t gonna be—”

“Shut the fuck up, all of you!” I’ve had enough of my brothers putting in their two cents. “It’s a fail-proof solution and then we can all go about our lives.”

“What exactly are you asking here, Grinder?” Goddamn that voice.

“I just need a couple hours of your time where we fuck each other’s brains out. That’s it.”

Simple. Efficient. My most brilliant idea ever.