The Death Lords, Volumes 1-3: His Wild Desire, Her Secret Pleasure, Their Private Need Read Online Free Page B

attorney hard.
    It is what it is and that part of my life is over. I don’t regret killing the Henchman, only that I got caught. I’ll be more careful next time.
    Outside the clubhouse almost twenty bikes are already leaning on their stands. I cut the throttle, turn off the bike and climb off. Unbuckling my helmet, I wait for Dad. “Call in the troops, did you?”
    He claps me on the back. “The Death Lords are good for fucking, fucking up and throwing down. You think you can come home after three years in the pen and not have a goddamn welcome home party?” He knocks his fist lightly against my head. “They screwed you up but good inside.”
    I shove him away with a laugh. It’s good to be home. The huge barn doors of the granary are rolled open and inside I see most of the club standing there, drink in hand, ready to fold me into their hard bosom. A strange emotion overwhelms me and maybe if I had a vagina, I’d burst into tears. Instead, I throw my head back, fling my arms out wide and let out the loudest yell my lungs can muster. I roar and the club roars with me.
    Dad pushes me forward and I take turns enduring slaps on my back, my skull and my arms. At the end of the men are the women—nubile, barely dressed, with big hair, high heels and smoky eyes. Some of the girls I knew from high school but many I don’t. No old ladies, I note. Tonight promises to be rowdy yet I’m itching to head straight back home.
    “New blood?” I ask out of the side of my mouth to Dad.
    He squeezes my shoulder. “Welcome home, son. You’ve been sorely missed.”
    A beer is shoved into my hand and I’m led to a sofa by Sara Ellerby, a cheerleader I fucked underneath the bleachers for almost an entire football season. The rec room at the granary is in the back. There are a bunch of sofas arranged in a big square and in the center is a pole.
    At halftime, while the dance team amused the crowd, Sara and I would make our own entertainment. She looks as good today as she did back then. Better, if I’m honest. Her hips are rounder, emphasizing her small waist, and her face is a little slimmer. She’s wearing torn jean shorts, the frayed portion showing her plump ass. A black tank with the words Death Lords and the flaming skull is stretched across her generous rack. But for all her charms, she does nothing for me.
    In all the days I spent in the joint, only one face starred in my fantasies. And it wasn’t the one in front of me.
    She pushes me down into the cushions and climbs onto my lap. I take a swig of my bottle and push her off. No doubt her perfume is already stuck to my clothes which is only going to give Chels a reason to turn me away. I spent six months lying to Dad about Chels and me. After three years of brooding about it, I’m ready to go public.
    Life’s too goddamn short to worry about anything anyone else has to say, including Dad. I love the old man, but I’m not creeping in and out of my own house to fuck my girlfriend.
    I’ll give her a couple of days but that’s it. For tonight, I’ll put on a good show for her .
    In the meantime my dick is ready for action and it is excited by all the bare flesh. But the only pussy I want is at home. Down, boy .
    “What’s the first thing you wanted to do when you got out?” Sara asks.
    Chelsea .
    “Go for a ride,” I lie.
    “We’re going to have a big ass party for you. A lot of nearby clubs are coming.”
    “That’ll be nice.” Lie again.
    I have no interest in big parties, particularly here, because if things aren’t worked out between Chels and me by then, we’ll be standing on opposite ends of the room or I’ll be chasing her around as she runs from corner to corner.
    A couple of the girls start twirling on the pole and 90s rock is cranked into the speakers. Sara tries to climb back onto my lap.
    “Think I’ll go talk to the old man,” I say. She looks confused but Sara’s not my concern here.
    I find him holding up the back wall next to our vice