WHEELIE (Southside Skulls MC Romance Book 9) Read online

  Wheelie was keeping his speed down and as much as Bri wanted to go faster and hold onto him for dear life as he popped one of those wheelies he was famous for, there was something else she wanted to do even worse. She moved her hands and let them slide up underneath his kutte. She ran them up and down the outside of his t-shirt for a few minutes before sliding them back down and then up underneath his shirt. She couldn’t hear if he was making any sounds, but she could feel his body shudder in response to either the cold of the air, or the warmth of her hands.

  She smiled as she reached all the way around and found the zipper of his jeans. She wished she could see his face and gauge his reaction as she opened the button and began to slowly slide the zipper down. What she was doing was hidden from the other drivers by his long t-shirt and his leather vest, so when he took his hand off the handlebars and touched hers softly, as if to ask, “What the hell are you doing?” she didn’t stop. She held his pants open with one hand and slid the other one down until it touched his cock. She didn’t have to go too deep. He was already semi-hard. She let her palm press down against his shaft and began to slide it up and down. She liked the feeling of his cock growing and hardening with her touch.

  She finally wrapped her hand completely around it and even with all the noise around them, she heard him suck in a hard breath. His speed dropped and before long he had turned on his signal and they were turning off onto a road that led along the north side of the bay. She kept stroking, increasing her pace slowly. Her other hand was exploring his stomach and chest and she felt goosebumps on his skin. He was shaking, but his body felt warm, almost hot.

  He drove for a few miles, his muscles tensing more with each one, until he came to another road. This one was marked, “private,” but he didn’t seem to notice, or he didn’t care. He turned onto it and for a few seconds she lost sight of what she was doing. He had the throttle wide open and Sabrina felt the sting of the adrenaline as it rushed through her veins. She also felt her panties growing damper by the mile and when he finally stopped, she was good and soaked.

  Sabrina let go of his hard cock and climbed off the bike. Her legs were shaking from the ride and she had to hold onto his shoulder to get her bearings back. When she looked at his face there was a mixture of shock and awe written all over it.

  “Um...what was that?”

  “You didn’t like it?”

  He laughed. “Oh, no...I liked it, a lot. But for a girl that was...” It suddenly dawned on him. “You weren’t scared of taking a ride at all, were you? You little sneak.”

  She let go of him and acted like she was going to walk away. He grabbed her around the waist and she squealed as he pulled her up on the front of the bike, facing him. He wasn’t laughing any longer as his mouth met hers and they locked up in a hot kiss that sent her panties from wet to flaming. First his tongue explored every surface of her mouth and then her lips and finally, when asphyxiation from lack of oxygen seemed imminent, he transferred his attention—and that hot mouth—to her neck. Bri arched her back and let her head fall back while she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feelings he was creating in her body...in places that had never previously been touched like that. It was more than stimulating, it was a form of over-stimulation that left her walking that fine line between something she wanted and something she absolutely had to have.

  While he kissed her neck, his hands worked to get her jacket open and her t-shirt pushed up underneath her arms. The cold air caused her to shiver, but only seconds passed before it was replaced by his hot mouth. He covered the exposed flesh of her breasts with kisses, licking and sucking on it just above her nipples and making her moan in ecstasy. He pushed down one side of her bra and suddenly one rock-hard nipple was covered with his mouth. He flicked it back and forth with his tongue before rolling it around with his lips and then nipping at it with his teeth.

  “Jesus Wes...fuck...” She could hardly talk. She could barely breathe. He was killing her. She finally couldn’t take it a second longer. She pushed back so that she was sitting, straddling the gas tank. She was panting as she tried to catch her breath and he was looking at her exposed chest hungrily as it heaved up and down. He finally moved his sexy, bedroom eyes up to her face and with a sexy little grin he said:

  “Should we stop?” She would have to be insane to say yes. She wanted him more at that moment than she could ever remember wanting anything or anyone in her life and she didn’t care that they were outside...or immersed in a murder investigation. All she cared about was satisfying that craving she felt all the way to her soul. Instead of answering his question with words, she reached for his pants again. He pushed himself up slightly with his feet so that she could pull out his swollen cock and once she had it in her hand, she used the other hand and pushed against his chest to get him to move back further. Once there was enough distance between them, she bent down and licked the head of it. She felt his body jerk and with a smile, she sucked the tip into her mouth and went to work on it with her tongue. Wes had his long legs stretched out in front of him and one hand on her head, and the other one on the edge of the leather seat, gripping onto it to keep from landing on his back in the dirt. The odd angle kept Bri from taking him all the way into her mouth, but she licked and sucked and slurped until he used the hand he’d been pushing her head down with to pull her up to face him again.

  With flushed cheeks and ragged breaths, he pressed his forehead into hers and started unbuttoning her jeans. Once he had the button loose and she’d lifted to help him get the zipper down, his fingers dove into her sopping-wet panties and stoked the fire. He folded his hand into a fist, all except one finger, which he slipped up inside of her and began to move around. She held onto his shoulders and pressed her feet into the ground, moving up and down on his hand, letting him finger her until she felt like every nerve ending in her body was on fire. In little more than a gasp of sound he said:

  “Take them off.” Bri was reluctant for his finger to slide out of her pussy, but she was dying to feel that thick cock inside of her. She once again had to hold onto him for support as her legs shook like wet noodles and she struggled to get her jeans out of the way. As soon as she was naked from the waist down, he stood up and did the same. Then he straddled the bike again and pulled her back up and down on his cock in almost one, smooth movement. She gasped, and he moaned, and with his hands on her hips and hers on his shoulders, he thrust up while she pushed down, and in that moment, there was nothing but feelings. She moaned louder with each thrust until an incredible, rock-my-fucking-world orgasm overtook her. She cried out his name and dug her fingers into his shoulders and clenched the walls of her pussy around his cock like a vise. The sights, sounds, and feel of that pushed him over the edge too and suddenly they were falling together and looking forward to the crash that came at the end.

  22

  Wheelie sat in the bar at the hotel, wishing he was back at Bri’s house, with her. The last thing on earth he wanted to do was have this meeting with his brother. After what happened to Diane, he hadn’t wanted to leave Bri alone either. He’d tried talking her into coming with him, but she’d refused. She told him that whatever he and his brother had to work out, it needed to be one on one. So then, he’d tried to talk her into letting him have one or even two of the guys from the club come and sit outside of her house and make sure she stayed safe. She’d scoffed at that as well, telling him that despite what he’d seen of her so far, she was a probation officer, a professional with a gun who could take care of herself. While she was talking, he was trying to plan out who he would call to watch her anyways and as if she’d been reading his mind she said:

  “I mean it, Wesley. I’m not a child and I won’t have you going behind my back and arranging for someone to babysit me...okay? I’m going to call my mother,” she said with almost a growl, “and find out what the plans are for Pamela’s services and then probably make a lot more phone calls to notify her friends and classmates that my mother will never call.” He’d h
ugged her and promised not to go behind her back, but now that he was twenty miles away, he was wishing he’d crossed his fingers behind his back.

  “Hey, little brother, damn, look at you!” Wesley was ripped from his thoughts by the sound of his brother’s voice. He looked up at Christopher. His brother was nearly thirty years old, but he could still pass for much younger. They sometimes got mistaken for twins when Wesley was a teenager. He used to have trouble seeing the resemblance, but as soon as he saw him that evening he got the sudden, creepy feeling that he was looking at a mirror image of himself, just maybe a few years in the future. Chris’ hair was the exact color of Wheelie’s, just not quite as long. It fell just past his shoulders and he had it pulled back into a short ponytail. Their brown eyes were the same color and they were about the same height. Wheelie had more muscle on him, muscle that came from a lot of work around the ranch and the physical exertion of riding his Harley every day. Chris’s muscle was leaner and he wore a short beard now but there was still no denying a very strong family resemblance.

  “Chris,” Wheelie said, taking in what his brother was wearing. He had on jeans with a blue plaid flannel jacket over a dark blue t-shirt. His boots were suede and looked like they were made for hunting, or hiking, neither of which Chris would be caught dead doing. He looked like he’d just walked off the pages of an L.L. Bean catalog and Wheelie couldn’t help but wonder what the new style was all about.

  “That’s it? That’s all I get after three years? No hug?” Chris was loud, and the bar was crowded. Wheelie didn’t like the attention he was drawing, so instead of arguing with him, he stood up and held out his right hand. Chris rolled his eyes and wrapped him up in a bear hug. Wheelie’s muscles were tense, and it was all he could do to keep himself from pushing out of his brother’s lingering embrace. When Chris finally let go of him, he took a step back so that he was out of his reach, just in case. “What are you drinking? I’m gonna go up and grab a beer,” Chris said.

  “I’m good. Can we...?” Chris was already on his way up to the bar. With a sigh, Wheelie sat back down and watched his brother across the room now as he waited. Chris was chatting up the girl behind the bar and when she turned to pull his beer out of the tap, he struck up a conversation with the middle-aged woman sitting at the bar. He always was the social one, the charmer. Sadly, most of what came out of his mouth was absolute bullshit. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry for this reunion to happen, and Wheelie was actually considering just walking out before he finally wrapped up his conversations and brought his half-drunk beer back to the table where Wheelie was waiting.

  Chris put the beer down on the table and turned the chair around and straddled it. “Damn, you’ve grown up.”

  “I was grown-up when I left home,” Wheelie said, feeling once again like he was twelve. Not only did Chris treat him that way still, but just being in his presence made Wesley feel it.

  Chris laughed. “Yeah, I guess you were.” He took a drink of his beer and then with a serious face he said, “I owe you one hell of an apology.”

  “It’s all ancient history,” Wheelie said. “I’m over it. We’ve both moved on, so let’s not dredge it all up, okay?”

  “Alright,” Chris said. “But I am sorry I was such a dick. I treated you like shit and for a long time I didn’t realize that Syl had problems. I thought she was just a slut.”

  Wheelie nearly knocked over the table as he pushed back and stood up. “This shit is over,” he said, storming toward the door. He could hear Chris calling after him as he did, but he’d heard enough already. He was almost to his bike when he felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. It took everything in him not to turn around and punch him in the face, but there were too many people around and the last thing he needed was more police attention. Instead, he jerked away and spun around to face his brother. Chris had his hands in the air, palms up.

  “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole, you know that. But fuck, Wes, you also know I don’t say shit right. I was trying to tell you that I know now what a dick I was to you and her both. She forgave me, I’d like for you to forgive me too.”

  “Why now, Christopher? Why three fucking years later? I haven’t seen or heard from you since I left North Carolina and now when I’m going through this shit and I need a clear head to deal with it, you want to show up and dump all this crap in my lap. Why?”

  “Can we go back in...?”

  “No! You wanted to talk to me so fucking talk.”

  His brother sighed. “Okay. Why now? Partly because I am finally growing up. I’m finally looking at my life and realizing that I had so much to be thankful for and instead of appreciating it, I took advantage of it all. You could have hated me for what happened that night to Mom and Dad...”

  “Who says I didn’t?”

  Chris chuckled. “Okay, I know you blamed me and I know you were pissed at me for a really long time. I also know you had a right to be. I was disgusted with myself.”

  Wheelie rolled his eyes. “Really? If that’s true, you’re one hell of an actor. You never acted even a little bit ashamed.”

  “Emotions are hard for me, you know that too. But I did feel ashamed and remorseful and I struggled with my self-worth for years after that. I had stopped drinking. Did Syl tell you?”

  “She told me. I’m not sure I believed it, but I am sure that the only reason I care is because it made her happy.”

  “Wow, okay. Moving on...I committed one of the biggest sins one brother can commit against another, taking your girl. Then there was Bella...”

  “I’m done with this conversation, Christopher, okay? I don’t know if this is about some fucked-up twelve-step program and you’re trying to make your amends or what the fuck...”

  “If you’d just give me two fucking minutes, Wesley, I’ll explain, okay?”

  “If I don’t give you two fucking minutes will you still go away?”

  He shook his head. “No. I can’t. I need you to hear what I have to say. Once you do...we’ll decide where to go from there.”

  Wheelie knew where he was going, as far away from his brother as he could get, again. Christopher was toxic and even being in the same room with him was like poison as far as Wheelie was concerned. But, he wanted this shit over with. He leaned up against his bike, folded his arms, and said, “Okay, you have two minutes, go.”

  Chris rolled his eyes, but he said, “Alright, so for everything I’ve ever done to you, I’m sorry. I do love you and I know I fucked up what could have been an awesome relationship. I also know you have every right to not want me in your life and that’s why I’ve left you alone all these years. But, when that girl called and told me what was going on...I had to come.”

  “Because you think you can help?” Wheelie asked, sarcastically.

  “I don’t know if I can help and I do know you’ll probably hate me worse after this. The good news is that Sylvia will probably finally leave me, and if you’re not too into this probation officer chick, you might have a shot.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Christopher! Just say whatever the fuck it is you have to say and stop wasting my time with this shit.”

  “I think I know who killed that girl!” Time froze, but only for a second before Wesley reminded himself that his brother was thousands of miles away at the time, couldn’t have possibly known Pam or anyone else that knew her, and didn’t know anyone who knew Wheelie these days. Bullshit. Again.

  “You psychic now?” was what he said as he wondered why he wasn’t already on his bike, driving away.

  “No. But as usual, I fucked up, Wes. I got involved in some shit...”

  “Fuck. Is this about money? Because I don’t have any.”

  “No! Shut up and fucking listen to me!” Chris was always an asshole, but he rarely raised his voice. His cuts were usually sarcastic, deep, but not loud. Wheelie held his tongue and waited. “Look, I knew better, okay...but I started working for this guy....” Christopher started talking and Wheelie listened in disbelief. He
was hardly one to judge, considering the “business” he did for the club, but Wheelie’s mind just kept going to Sylvia and Bella and how his brother couldn’t possibly have considered how what he was doing might affect them.

  “I worked for this rich guy...he was like a fucking billionaire or something, one of those people that was respected in the community and always donating money to charity and putting on these big events. People thought he was old money because he ran this cosmetics company that had been in his family for generations. But that place was just a front for what he really did.”

  “And that was?”

  “He stole things, valuable things, and fenced them on the black market. Originally, he hired me as one of his bodyguards, but then one day he called me into his office and asked me how I’d like to make a lot more money and travel while I was doing it...”

  “Yeah, so you jumped at it.” Wheelie rolled his eyes. With Chris it was always about the money.

  “Yeah, I did. I wanted to be able to give Syl and Bella the life they deserve.” Wheelie tried to keep a straight face. Christopher was only interested in giving himself the life he deserved. “So anyways, I took the job, which was heisting some pretty fucking valuable things. I’d go to these benefits ‘representing’ the company, all dressed up with some hot paid hoe on my arm....”