Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Let’s not ruin this fuckin’ day. Or our alliance. When you’re in our territory, gotta respect our rules.”
Romeo frowned and asked Judge, “What rule ain’t I respectin’?”
“When the man don’t want you fuckin’ with his daughter, you gotta respect that.”
“Is she his daughter?”
“Close enough. Family don’t gotta be blood around here, just like I’m sure it is in your club. If the man got a problem with you hittin’ on his girl, then you move the fuck on. Plenty of other women here for the weekend who might be willin’. Would be in your best interest to find one of them instead.”
Clearly, Judge was running interference. Because while the tall man talked, Shade had convinced Maddie to go with him. But Romeo did note, that while she trailed behind the long-haired Fury member, she did not look happy about it.
He waited until Judge turned to follow them before he let himself smile.
He didn’t give a fuck about these so-called rules or what anyone thought about him. He planned on getting some of that.
And the fuck if he was leaving this damn farm until he did.
Game fuckin’ on.
Chapter One
Five years later…
Romeo sucked on a fat blunt. With a half-full bottle of whiskey on the floor by his boot and his knees spread wide, he slouched in the recliner tucked in the corner of his room while keeping his eyes glued to the bed.
When the smoke rolled out of his mouth, he inhaled it again through his nostrils and back down deep into his lungs as he contemplated the situation before him.
What bugged his ass the most was, he should be rock hard about now. He should have his dick in his hand and be stroking it until he rode that sweet, sharp edge. Until he was ready to take part in what was happening on his mattress.
But he wasn’t.
For some fucking reason, this shit tonight wasn’t doing it for him.
Maybe he was sick. Though, he didn’t feel ill. Just…
Bored as fuck.
That realization just made this whole goddamn thing worse.
Sweet butts weren’t a fucking challenge. All he had to do was order them to show up and they did.
No backtalk.
No attitude. No spirit.
Nothing but fucking boring.
He could tell them to do anything he damn well pleased and if they wanted to remain a sweet butt in his club, they had to do it. For the most part.
Again, boring.
He was in the mood for a woman—or even more than one—with fight and fire.
Someone to get his pulse pounding, his blood rushing, and his dick hard enough to ache.
He was far from that right now. In fact, he had to smother a fucking yawn.
Not just one, either.
Were Tink and CeeCee great at eating pussy? Seemed to be by the sounds coming from them both as they enthusiastically munched down on each other in a sixty-nine position.
Could he order one or both of them to come over to him, get on their knees and suck him off until he blew his load down their throat? Hell yeah.
Did he want to? Fuck no.
Christ. Something was definitely wrong with him. Since when did two horny women going at it hot and heavy not get him off?
If he wasn’t sick, he had to be fucking broken.
Because for him, this shit wasn’t normal.
Maybe he needed a goddamn shrink.
Or less whiskey.
Regrettably, maybe less pot.
He frowned.
Fuck that. Overindulging never once made him not want to have sex in the past. Normally, he was always ready to go no matter how badly he was wasted.
That was another sad fact tonight…
He wasn’t even buzzing yet.
“Kiss each other,” he barked before tucking the lit joint between his lips.
Tink lifted her face from between CeeCee’s thighs as the other sweet butt turned her head. Both stared at him with their lips shiny and their eyes glassy.
He might not be buzzing but the two of them certainly fucking were.
Damn.
When they untangled their limbs and sat up, their tits hung heavily, and their nipples were tightly pebbled.
He picked these two tonight out of the ever-changing stable of sweet butts because they both had thighs thick enough to rub together. Just how he liked them.
Don’t give him a damn thigh gap. He didn’t want to see a sliver of fucking light between their thighs. When he went down on a woman, he wanted to be temporarily blind and deaf because his face was buried deep within some womanly flesh.
White boys liked skin and bones. Gaps between a woman’s thighs large enough to drive a Harley through.
Romeo was certainly not fucking white. Nor did he want to be.
He was the goddamn president of the Dark Knights. And to be in his MC, you had to be dark. Or at least be some shade of black.
As for the club’s sweet butts and ol’ ladies? Not the same requirement. They could be any color in the damn rainbow as long as they had tits and a pussy.