Stripped Back (Reaper MC #1)

C H A P T E R O N E

INK 

Cheap pornstar moaning filled the bedroom and Cherry's fake plastic tits a jiggled up and down.

Over and over again. 

Never quite hitting the right spot. Never quite scratching the scratch. Not that kind of scratch, I'm clean. Gross. 
Pumping in to her hard and fast, over and over. Skin on skin. Sweat beading on her stained orange skin.

"OH! Baby! OoooH Baby! Fuck me!" She squealed as my pace increased. 

Over and over she squealed. 

Her pitch increased as our climax increased. 

I pulled out right as I reached my peak and finished in the condom.

Cherry did the fakest orgasmic scream I'd ever heard before I rolling off the bed.

"Come back to bed baby" she purred, rolling around on my black sheets like a cat in heat. 

"Get out" I snapped tying up the used condom and dropping it into the waste bin beside the bedside drawers.

Without missing a beat she scrambled off the bed like a good club candy scooping up her clothes before sashaying out of the room closing the door behind her, bare as the day she was born.

I sat down on the edge of my bed staring at the mark on the wall debating washing the transferred tan and body glitter as my skin began to crawl. The cheap cherry scent she wears lingers in the air like a ghost. 

The feeling of guilt  creeping in quicker and quicker. 

I always held the guilt of pushing her away. That was my cross to bare. 

Forgiveness 

I didn't deserve it, as much as I craved it. Not after what I did to her. 

I didn't deserve to even look at her let alone be in her presence, the smell of her lemon and honey shampoo, the way her hair swayed as she chased me. The way her skin would glow so brightly as she smiled. Happiness that would light up the room even with all the shit she dealt with. 

Was she happy? 

Was she healthy? 

Did she marry a boring accountant and pop out a few kids? One that looked just like her... I didnt deserve to be jealous. 

She should hate me. I hate me enough for the both of us.

"CHURCH" Ryder yelled banging on my door

Pulling on my jeans, free balling it I threw on a band tee and hoodie under my cut before my steel caps and mandatory beanie and leaving the room tucking my Glock in the back of my waistband.

As the guys filed the table around the church half looking hungover the other half looking half drunk half hungover. A few prospects pottered around cleaning and running errands through the clubhouse. I sat to the left of Ryder. 

The running joke, the left hand of god. I was VP of the club Ryder and I both got patched when we turned 18 only a few years later he was made prez and was picked as his second.

Not brothers by birth but close enough. 

"Right lads, we have a run coming up and the devils are trying to step in our territory. We know they've been sneaking through trying to see if they can push drugs through out territory but if they keep pushing were gonna be pushing back harder. Rumours are floating there pres got him self offed by there new leader, dunno names yet we still haven't been able to make contact with them. The threat is high so keep on your toes while shits still in the air"