Sly: SBMC Maryland Read online

  Sly

  Soulless bastards MC Maryland

  Erin Trejo

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” my best friend Deb says.

  “I didn’t ask you.”

  “I don’t give a shit if you asked me. I’m telling you, this is a bad fucking idea.”

  I turn to face her, seeing the unease in her eyes. It doesn’t matter what she thinks. I’m a grown woman and I can do what I please. Ignoring her, I turn back to the table that I’m currently setting up. My life was headed in one direction until it wasn’t. Things happened. Plans changed. I had to adjust to what this world threw my way, which is what brought me to the Ocean City, Maryland Bike Fest. This wasn’t my first choice as to destinations, but it was the smartest. This will get me where I need to be.

  “Fab, this is stupid. You don’t know them,” she whines again. I understand her reasoning, I truly do, but she understands mine too.

  “That’s the point, isn’t it?” I ask looking over my shoulder at her. Her anger is valid. I know this isn’t the smartest thing to be doing but I also know it’s the only way to get the information I need. It’s something I have to do, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Ignoring her stare, I go back to setting up my vendor table. I paid good money for this table. My life’s work sits for sale in the middle of the blazing sun.

  “You make all this?” a deep voice asks.

  Raising my head, I come face to face with a man that could snap my neck and break me in two. I’m going for the second one.

  “I did.” He nods his head as he picks up a few of my pieces. I make leather goods. Purses, belts - hell I even hand craft whips. The man looks impressed when he looks over his shoulder and calls out to another guy.

  “Hey, Prez! Come look at this.” He turns back to the table and picks one of the whips up running it between his fingers. Deb is standing next to me, her mouth hanging open as thoughts no doubt run through her mind like they are mine.

  “What the fuck, Gauge?” the guy asks as he looks at the whip in his hand.

  “Thought Dezzy might like it,” the man laughs.

  “You sick son of a bitch. I don’t wanna know what the fuck you’re doin’ to my kid in the bedroom,” the new guy hisses before punching him in the arm.

  “I’m buyin’ it!” the guy he called Gauge says.

  “Yeah? I’m buyin’ one too.”

  “For what?”

  I watch as they go back and forth in front of me. It’s almost amusing to watch if they weren’t so goddamn hot. My eyes trail over the cuts they have on when I read the name. Sly, Soulless Bastards’ President.

  “To beat your fuckin’ ass with, you sick bastard.” I stifle a laugh when he looks up. His eyes lock with mine and fuck me, do I want nothing more than to get lost in those eyes. “You made these?” he asks.

  “I did. I make them all by hand,” I tell him. He grunts, reaches out, and grabs my hand in his. He slowly runs his fingers over the palm of my hand, down my fingers and over the tips. He doesn’t let go when his eyes come back to meet mine.

  “Never met a woman that makes them all by hand,” he says.

  “You just did. I’m Fabiola.”

  “Fab. Yeah, I can see that. Keep this one put up for me, darlin’. I’ll be back by later.” He winks and passes me one of the whips but still keeps my hand in his free one. The other guy, Gauge, chuckles under his breath. When he finally releases my hand, he turns on his heel and walks away. His friend pays for his and leaves behind him as Deb drools.

  “God, I didn’t know they would be that hot,” she grumbles.

  “Me either. That seems to be a theme with some of them.”

  “Not that one,” Deb adds, pointing to a man who dances shirtless. He has a beer belly with an American flag painted on it singing a song that is not what’s playing over the speakers. Deb and I share a glance and laugh.

  “That… I don’t have words for that,” I tell her as I wipe the tears from my eyes.

  “Me either. Thank God they aren’t all like that. I’d have to soak my eyes in bleach.”

  I laugh again before reaching down and grabbing another box to unload. It doesn’t take long for us to get into a groove. We sell tons of items, which makes me happy. The day rolls on, and the more I sell, the happier I become. I knew this would be a good place to make sales but the initial contact with the men I was looking for was the best part of my day.

  It seems like we have only started when it’s time to pack up. There isn’t much left and for me that’s a plus. I brought a good bit of my stock with me today which means time to assemble more.

  “You Fab?” I look up from the box I was packing and nod.

  “That’s me.”

  “My Prez said to give you this,” the guy says, holding out some cash. I take it from him and eye his cut. He must be picking up Sly’s whip. I turn and grab the whip, slide it in a bag and pass it to him but he doesn’t take it. He smirks at me and shakes his head no.

  “This is what he bought. At least, this is what he said he wanted,” I tell the guy.

  “Yeah, I know what it was. He wants you to bring it to him.”

  I narrow my eyes, confused as to why I need to hand deliver it. “I don’t deliver, sorry.”

  “I think you will for him,” the guy says with a smirk on his face. I look at his cut once more and read his name.

  “Look, Wolf. I get it, I do. I’m an easy target in this little game, at least in your eyes, but in reality? I’m not.” His eyes brighten as he chuckles.

  “Yeah, you ain’t no easy target, darlin’. Prez wants you to meet him over at stage three.” Wolf turns on his heel and walks away as I stare after him.

  “Holy shit,” Deb whispers. Yep, that is exactly what I was thinking, too.

  Chapter Two

  Whips. Of all the fucking things I would find here, and she makes whips. I tip my beer to my lips and take a long pull. The thoughts of bending her thick ass over and testing that whip has crossed my mind more than once throughout the day. Something about that sweet caramel colored skin, deep dark eyes and that ass that was begging to be spanked have fucked me up. I sent Wolf over there to pay her and give her a little message. If one thing is for certain, I will be having her under me tonight.

  “Where the fuck is your head at, brother?” Smokey, the So Cal president, asks me. Yeah, those bastards came all the way across the fucking United States to party with us this weekend.

  “On a hot little chick that makes whips,” I tell him with a smirk.

  “Whips, huh?”

  “Yeah. She makes all kinds of leather shit, but when I picked up the fuckin’ whips, I saw the look in her eyes.”

  Smokey laughs before downing the rest of his beer. “I could have gotten you whips, brother. Fuck, even a belt would work.” Yeah, I’m well aware of the sick shit Smokey is into.

  “Heard that. How long you stayin’?” I ask looking over at him. The show hasn’t started y
et, which means it’s still pretty quiet over here.

  “Not sure. I got some shit to take care of back home, but this is a fuckin’ rally. Everything else can wait, yeah?” I nod my head. I do agree there.

  “You stayin’ at the clubhouse or you rainin’ hell down on the hotels this year?” I ask with a chuckle. Smokey just smiles back at me.

  “Clubhouse would be nice, but we got rooms already. Don’t plan on goin’ to jail while I’m out here if I can help it.”

  “Heard that, brother. Glad you guys made it out here,” I tell him when I see her. She looks unsure of herself or what she’s doing. It’s sexy as fuck on her, too. My eyes stay on her as she looks around but doesn’t see me yet. Smokey notices, slapping a hand on my shoulder before he walks away. When she turns and blows out a breath, she finally spots me. It’s like an electrical shock zapping through the air between us. She can’t deny there is something there. Whether it’s just lust and want, that’s to be decided. She looks up at me under those long lashes, and fuck, my cock responds. She’s a small thing. Can’t be any taller than five foot five, if that, but she has curves that make my mouth water. She isn’t a stick figure like some of the club whores and I think that’s what makes her so damn appealing to me. I slowly stroll toward her as she holds the bag tightly in her hands.

  “You came,” I say smoothly, like I already knew she would.

  “You asked me to. Why?”

  “Why not? Thought we might hang out. Maybe you could show me how to use that whip you made,” I tell her. Her full lips tip up at the edges, but she doesn’t allow herself to smile fully.

  “You think that by sweet talking me and buying one of my whips that you can get all the goodies?” Her eyebrow rises as I smirk. Damn, I think I like her even more now.

  “This is Bike Fest. It’s a little like Vegas,” I tell her.

  “Oh yeah? How is that?”

  “What happens here stays here.” Her tongue sneaks out running across her lips and my cock strains against my jeans. Fab steps closer to me, her small body dwarfed by mine but that doesn’t cause her to falter. She keeps her head held high; her eyes locked on mine.

  “You bought a product, not the maker. This body,” she says running her hand down her curves and back up over her breast, “isn’t for sale.”

  Reaching out I grab her hand and pull it to my chest. “I don’t see a ring.”

  “Did you see a for sale sign?” she challenges me. Damn, this girl is getting me all kinds of hard.

  “No, but I sure as hell would like a test drive,” I tell her. This time she does smile and it’s breathtaking.

  “I’ll hang out with you. Watch the band, have a drink, and if you’re a good boy, I might even let you cop a feel. But that’s as far as it goes,” she says firmly. I watch her eyes knowing damn good and well that if I wanted to take her, I could.

  “Challenge accepted,” I tell her. Her smile is big and beautiful.

  “That wasn’t a challenge.”

  “I think it was.”

  “Want to put a wager on that?” Damn, look at her.

  “What do you want to wager?”

  “You win and you somehow convince me to let you taste what I have to offer, I give it freely. I’ll even give you that test drive,” she says in a sexy tone. She has to know she’s fucking with my head and my cock right now.

  “And if you win?” I ask.

  “If I win, you settle for watching me get myself off.” Her boldness is sexy. She thinks she has me by the balls here, but she doesn’t. I smirk at her and nod my head.

  “You got a deal, darlin’.” Bringing her hand to my lips, I press a kiss to it before she pulls back.

  “Buy me a beer, biker boy.”

  “Oh, come on now. That’s the easy stuff. Where’s the challenge in that?” I ask, smirking down at her. She watches me for a long second before her lips curl into a smile.

  “Okay but I’ll warn you. I can hold my liquor. I’m not one of those tipsy after two drinks kind of girls,” she says with a smile that could melt hearts. Fuck, this girl is something else.

  “You think so?” I step closer to her, watching her for any kind of reaction. I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe I was expecting her to give in like most women do, but in the last three minutes of standing here with her I realize she isn’t most women.

  “I know men like you.” That sentence intrigues me. I cock my head to the side and stare down at her waiting for her to elaborate on that, but she doesn’t. Instead, she tries to step back, but I don’t let her. I counter her steps as the crowd begins to go wild. The band must have come out on stage, but my eyes are fixated on my prey.

  Reaching out, I grab her around the back of her neck and pull her closer to me. I lean down so that my lips are right next to her ear and whisper, “What are men like me?” With my tongue, I flick her earlobe, not missing the little moan.

  “Men who think they can have anything and everything at their fingertips. Men who think they can take what they want without a single thought. Men like you,” she says into my ear before doing the same thing I just did to hers. I close my eyes and inhale the sweet scent of strawberries that drifts from her skin.

  “You have no fuckin’ idea what men like me do.”

  Chapter Three

  He walked away. Sly walked off and left me standing here after I said that to him. I’m stunned. Almost shocked to be honest. I didn’t think he would walk off. I assumed he would have accepted the challenge and come at me harder, but he didn’t. Now I stand with my arms crossed over my chest watching as people dance and drink while the band plays. Sly is in the middle of it all with a smile on his face and a little blonde wrapped around his body.

  “Well that isn’t working in your favor,” Deb yells over the music. I just ignore her. His eyes have met mine more than once, but I stand my ground. I won’t let him see that it affects me, even though it isn’t for the reasons everyone assumes it would.

  “I’m heading home,” Deb says.

  I pull her into a hug and thank her for helping me before watching her walk away. Slowly I drag my gaze back to the dance floor and see him again. I can’t look away from him and I don’t know if it’s lust or anger that I feel inside of me. I know which one it should be but that’s beside the point. The man has an aura around him that just pulls you in. After a few more minutes of staring, I huff out a breath and spin on my heel to walk away. I’m pissed at myself for thinking this is something else when I know what I need to do.

  “Where the hell are you goin’?” Damn it. That deep, gravelly voice makes my knees weak, but I fight the attraction I feel, knowing who this man truly is.

  “Back to my hotel,” I tell him looking over my shoulder. “The day is done.”

  “Is it? You givin’ up that easily?” he asks as he walks closer to me. It’s then that I see the whip in his hand. He slides the long thick leather through his fingers as I watch.

  “I don’t chase men.”

  “Who said I wanted you to chase me?” His steps get closer and closer until he’s standing right in front of me. I look up at his much larger frame knowing things could end badly for me right now, but I don’t back down. I know what I’m doing here, and I plan to make it until the end.

  “I thought that much was clear when you were half fucking that girl on the dance floor.”

  “Don’t be jealous, darlin’. It doesn’t look good on you.”

  “What would look good on me?” I ask him, watching the way his thick lips tilt up into a smile.

  “Nothin’ would look good on you, but you sure as fuck would look good ridin’ me.”

  My heart leaps into my throat. This wasn’t part of the plan but what if this is the only way to get to know him better? Ignoring the nagging voice in the back of my mind, I step into him, pressing my hands to his chest. The rapid beat of his heart slams against his ribs as his eyes rack over me.

  “Take me for a ride then,” I say seductively.

 
“On my bike or my cock?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “Bike first.” He nods his head, reaches for my hand and pulls me along with him. At first, he’s quiet and that’s fine by me, but as we walk farther, he begins talking.

  “How long you been makin’ stuff?” he asks, sounding like he is genuinely interested.

  “Since I was little. My mom used to make all kinds of things. I was always intrigued so I would sit and watch her for hours. She didn’t like using machines, so she would do basically everything by hand. It made everything that much more special.” What am I doing? Why am I telling him anything? I know that I’m supposed to be getting close but damn it, not telling him my life story. Then again, what’s it going to hurt in the end?

  “It’s admirable. Not a lot of people are willin’ to put in the work to make somethin’ like that anymore. Not when they can get online and buy that shit just as easy. Makes what you do unique. You should be proud of that,” he says, but doesn’t look down at me. At least not until his words hit me like a ton of bricks and I stop walking.

  “What?”

  “I said you should be proud of that. You work hard, that much is clear in your product. To do it all by hand? That makes it that much harder. Take pride in that.” A tear slips down my cheek as Sly narrows his brows in confusion. He wouldn’t understand. Only one other person has said those words to me. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He reaches over, wiping the tear with his thumb, letting his hand linger there.

  “It’s been a long time since someone has said that to me.”

  “You should hear it more often. It’s the truth.” Without another word, he pulls me along through the rows of bikes and I giggle.