Crotch Rocket: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance

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Authors: Natasha Tanner,Amelia Clarke

BOOK: Crotch Rocket: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance
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CROTCH ROCKET

 

© 2016 Natasha Tanner, Amelia Clarke
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the authors’ imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
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Chapter 1 – Jacob

 

“Shit!  Fuck…yeah, that’s good.  Just like that,” I said as I slid my hand around the back of her head and fisted her long blonde hair.  I twisted the highlighted strands around my palm until they were wrapped around the back of my hand several times.  Once secured I opened my fist and pressed down on her head so that she could work me just the way I liked.  It was my personal motto that you couldn’t trust bitches to know the right speed when they’re sucking you off.  They get so caught up in the theatrics of it all when I couldn’t give a fuck about any of that.  I really just want someone to go down deep and fast.  I don’t need any of that tender shit that gets plastered all over women’s magazines.  Don’t stick a donut on my fucking rod.  Swallow my dick like you mean it and suck it like you’ve never tasted anything so good.  That’s what I like.  That’s how a woman should suck a cock, and when I blow my load you better gobble it up like its candy.

I palmed the back of her head and slammed her mouth down on my dick.  She gagged a bit as it hit the back of her throat but she knew better than to stop.  If you wanted to be one of the girls at the motorcycle club, then you learned to do what the men wanted whether you liked it or not.  I couldn’t even remember this chicks name.  She was pretty, but the kind of pretty that is a bit sloppy and run down.  She was good for a lay or a blow job but you’d never wanna take her anywhere else.  The girls at the club were the girls at the club, the women you had at home were a completely different breed.  I didn’t have one of those yet so I got my rocks off with the club ladies and then went about my business.  I didn’t need a woman trying to tie me down.  Right now my life was all about pleasure and doing what I want, when I want.  Women try to trap you and set limits and control on your life.  No one needs that shit.

Oh yeah…she’s sucking it good now
, I thought as I bit my lip and raised my hips to meet her hungry mouth.  I watched my dick sliding in and out of her mouth for a few minutes and then I closed my eyes and laid my head back against the headboard.  I smiled as I listened to the wet noises her mouth made as she sucked my cock all the way into the back of her mouth.  I continued to push her down with my hand but at this point she had the rhythm and she knew what I wanted.  If she kept working like she was I would be cumming in no time.  It was the kind of good that had your thighs twitching and your hips rising against your will.  I used to try and contain that, to will my body to be still, now I didn’t care.  I let myself twitch and writhe in time with her mouth.  She was working me like a hoover, and just when my abs clenched and my balls tightened up to my body, seconds before I was gonna give her what she’d been begging for, there was a loud banging on the god damned door.  If I’d had a gun in my hand, I’d have shot whoever was on the other side.

She went completely still, my cock still sitting in her mouth, the momentum of my incoming orgasm lost.  “Who the fuck is it?” I yelled as I nodded with my chin that she should continue.  The woman went back to work but now it was different.  She’d lost her enthusiasm and she wasn’t sucking me the way I’d shown her. 
Shit...this is no good
, I thought as she wrapped her hand around my base and sucked slowly.  It was longer pulls; the kind you’d take off a whisky bottle instead of the deep chugs of someone that was dying of thirst. 

“Hey, you alone in there?”

It was Hog.  Surprisingly his actual name is Hogarth.  For some unknown reason, his parents, out of all the names they could have picked, they went with Hogarth.  Lucky for him he became a motorcycle guy so Hog sounds appropriate.  Hoggy is a big guy, one of those really gruff dudes with a gut that hangs out too far over his belt and a permanent scowl on his face.  He looked like he would really fuck you up if he wanted, but truthfully he’s one of the more even tempered guys around this place.  Just when I was about to call back to him this girl decides to get creative with my dick. She slides her tongue around my shaft and then teases the tender area just below my head.  I grit my teeth but a hiss still escapes. 
Hmm…maybe slow isn’t so bad
.

“Yo, Jacob?  I need to come in.  This isn’t exactly something that can wait.”  This time Hog didn’t wait for an answer.  Instead he went ahead and pushed the door open and stepped inside.  There I was on the bed, this chick between my legs with my cock buried in her face.  “Looks like a good time,” Hog said with a laugh.  The girl slid my instantly limp cock out of her mouth and slowly lifted herself from the bed as I flung my legs over the side and reached for my boxers.  “I always did like your tits darling,” he continued as the girl whipped her lips and sauntered over to the bathroom unashamed of her nudity. 

“Thanks,” she said with a smile and a tilt of her ass just before closing the door. 

“She does have a really nice rack,” Hog said as he sat down on the corner of the bed.  “I could juggle those things in my face for a while.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty good at sucking dick too, or at least she was before we got interrupted,” I said as I pulled my pants up one leg and then the other.  “What’s her name again?”

“Tammy.”

“Ah fuck.  I was better off not knowing.  Now it sounds like I was getting one hell of a suck job from my aunt or something,” I said with a laugh.  “I think I’m gonna just block her name from my memory.  Replace it with a vision or her tits.”

“That’s probably best.  They are some awesome tits,” Hog agreed. 

“Alright, so what do you really want?” I asked.  “I’m assuming you’ve got a good reason for the interruption.” 

“Who do you think I am?  No way would I interrupt a session like that without a good reason.  You gotta get out of here.”

“You’re fucking with me right?  That couldn’t have waited another couple of minutes?  She was going at me like my cock was a siphon hose and she needed gas. I was almost done man.  Now I’m still fuckin’ horny as shit and all you needed was for me to go somewhere else?  Shit man.  What the fuck.”

“Nah, seriously.  You gotta get out of here right now.  Your dad called a get together.  I think we’re discussing whether or not it’s time to let you into the club.  You’d be in already if it had just been up to me, but you know how it is.  Your dad has a bug up his ass about his son being in the club.”

“I’m here all the time anyway, its fucking bullshit.  I was born into this goddamned club and James just wants to lord it over me all the time.  I’ve done more for the Mischief Makers than a lot of the guys that are actually in the club.  Bullshit.  Fuckin’ pisses me off.”

“I hear ya, but I think maybe you’ll make it in today, but you gotta get out of here.  Just go to the store or something.  Go see that sweet thing that watches the place during the day.  Maybe you can convince her to let you blow your load.”

“Man, you know I still don’t have a bike.  Mine shit out on me remember?”

“Shit, I’d forgotten about that.  Alright, here, take mine,” Hogarth said as he tossed me the keys.

“Thanks,” I said as I slid the key ring into my pocket.  “Want anything in particular from the store?” I asked as I bent over to adjust my boots.

“Nah, just whatever.  You just need to be away for a bit.  I’ll give you a call when you can come back.”

“Cool.  See ya in a bit.  You guys better let me in this time,” I said as I left the room and headed towards the front door of the club.  As I passed the bar I could see my dad standing behind it, his permanent scowl plastered across his face.  I don’t know why he felt like he always had to be such a hard ass.  Maybe he thought it kept up appearances with the other guys, or maybe it’s just the way he was.  Growing up I can only count a couple of times I’d ever seen him smile.  Once was finally being able to afford his own custom bike and the other was when he saw my mother during their vowel renewal.  My mother died shortly after and I think that might be the same time that his smile disappeared for good.  Now every time I looked at his face it felt like a reminder that nothing I did was ever good enough for the club.  It made me want to punch him, wipe that disapproval right off his face.

I waved a hand as I walked by but he only turned around and walked into the meeting room.  Despite my anger, it also pained me to see him so unhappy, but there was nothing I could do about it.  He lost a wife, I lost my mother, and now he kept vetoing my attempt to get into the club.  It was bullshit but I understood.  If anyone knows how brutal the Mischief Makers Motorcycle Club can be, he does.  After all, it was one of our rivals that murdered my mother.  The El Diablo Rojas had accidentally taken her out when they raided the Mischief Makers clubhouse.  A single stray bullet that went through a wall and hit her in the chest.  She struggled for several minutes but ultimately bled out on the floor.  He held her in his arms and wouldn’t leave her for hours.  Eventually the rest of the men had to pry him away.  I tried to think that he was attempting to protect his son in the way he couldn’t protect my mother, but I’m an adult, and I’m a man, and I don’t need anyone but the club to protect me.   

The ride on Hoggie’s bike to the grocery store was short but sweet.  There’s nothing like the cool wind blowing over your skin and through your hair to get you feeling good.  The pleasant rumbling between my thighs had me remembering the blow job I didn’t get to finish and I briefly considered going to one of the local bars to find a quick lay.  It wouldn’t take me long, I’m a good looking guy and I’ve got a reputation.  Women know I’m a good fuck and almost any lady in town would lay down and spread em wide for me just to have their shot.  I thought about it and then decided against it.  It was early and only the skankiest ladies would be at the bar this early.  I wanted to get laid, but not that bad.  With one hand on the bars I readjusted my cock and decided heading to the store was the best option.  I didn’t want to miss Hogarth’s call tell me I could return.

The motorcycle growled as I pulled into the lot.  The store didn’t appear to have any customers.  There was only one car in the lot, a beat up blue Subaru with rust showing along the sides and the roof, a real piece of junk.  Chances were that it belonged to the girl that was working.  Most of the town’s residents now went to the larger store in the next town over.  A huge national chain had moved in a year before and it offered better prices even if the products were known to be produced by underage foreign children.  No one seemed to care so long as they were saving a buck.  I was surprised this tiny place had managed to stay open at all, but then that might have been due to the revenue that the club brought in.  We essentially paid them to stay open and stock our booze so that we didn’t have to bother with getting it somewhere else.  Even if the rest of the town had sketchy morals, we knew where we drew the line and our money belonged in our community.  We considered it a helpful symbiotic relationship.  We got our alcohol and the few people that still shopped here could get their groceries without having to go and support a giant soulless chain.  If anything, the club has always been about the little guy, fuck big business.  Community matters and we were doing our part with the store.  Plus, every now and then it was useful to have a few large trucks to transport questionable goods.  We tried to stay out of that heavier business, but every now and then it was necessary to bring in money for the club.  We’d usually kick back a substantial amount of money to the store so that they would know that we appreciated their service and silence.

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