Chas's Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 3) Read online

  Razor sat down, mumbling, his words indiscernible.

  As the room quieted for the third time, Banger said, “I’m sending another group to Kilson to check out the strip bar the charter owns. If there are underage strippers, you can fuckin’ bet the asshole badges’ palms are getting greased. Let’s see if they’re dealin’ in hard drugs at their clubhouse, and if they got minors working for them on the streets. Hawk and his group will check it out, and if the shit that’s circulating ’bout them is true, we’ll take back their colors, ’cause no one wearing Insurgents’ colors does shit to minors. Hawk has the authority to close them down and bash Dustin’s face. He can tell Dustin it comes from me.”

  The whistles and claps were deafening as all brothers pledged their support to their president and to their club.

  “We got the Saturday rally at Cooper’s Peak, then Hawk, Jax, Chas, Axe, Throttle, Rock, Razor, Bruiser, Jerry, Pug, and Ruben will head to Kilson the following Tuesday. Hawk’s in charge and he’ll report to me. Any questions?”

  The members shook their heads.

  “Church’s over. Let’s get some shots and brew,” Banger said with a laugh.

  The members dispersed and went to the bar where the prospects had beer bottles on the counter and shots ready to go for the brothers. One of the prospects’ jobs was to know each member’s drinks. The prospects had to do anything the members asked them to do, and with thirty members and only three prospects on board, they were hopping at all hours of the day and night. It was demanding, exhausting, and many times, unpleasant, but it was a job every single one of the patched members did before they wore their colors.

  Joining the members in the great room were the club whores, the mamas, and several hoodrats. Classic rock tunes blasted from speakers around the room.

  As Jax, Jerry, and Chas leaned against the bar drinking and talking bikes, three hoodrats approached them. Shyla, blonde and busty, put her arm around Jax, while her friend Gina, a brunette, cozied up to Jerry, and Lisa stood near Chas.

  “Hey, you’re cute,” Shyla said, as she traced Jax’s rough jawline with her purple-tipped finger.

  Jax gently pushed her away, looked her up and down then shook his head. “Sorry, not in circulation anymore. I got an old lady.”

  “Why is that a problem?” Shyla asked, placing a quick kiss on his jaw.

  “Stop that shit. I have a woman who trusts me, and I gotta respect that.” He pushed Shyla into Jerry, who was already in a deep, full-tongue kiss with Gina, his hands cupping the exposed curves of her ass. Shyla turned to Jerry and kissed his neck while she squeezed his stiffening cock.

  Chas jumped on the bar stool, beer in hand, and surveyed the room. There were so many men groping sluts and so many sluts fondling men. For the first time since his divorce, he didn’t want meaningless fucking, though; he wanted to hold and talk with a woman.

  Lisa moved over to Chas’s legs and inserted herself between them, as she pressed into him, giving him a kiss on his neck. Jax laughed.

  Chas pushed her away. “Not now. Maybe later.”

  Surprise spread over her face as she jutted her lower lip out.

  Chas shrugged. Lisa turned her attention to Jerry, raking her nails over his chest while she nibbled his shoulder. Jerry cupped her tits and massaged them as she moaned into his ear.

  Jax gazed at Chas. “Why aren’t you getting in on this?” He pointed to the three women wrapped around Jerry.

  Staring ahead, Chas said, “Not interested.”

  “Fuck, dude, I’ve known you too long. Something’s up. What is it?” Jax eyed Chas’s impassioned face then screwed his own into a wide grin as he nodded. “Your dick’s aiming for a special pussy. That’s it, isn’t it? Fuck, I knew you had some bitch you’re hot for. Who is she?”

  Crabby, Chas growled, “No one. I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, like some special bitch’s pussy. You know I’m gonna find out, brother, so just ’fess up. Who is she and what the fuck does she look like that would make you turn down three hot pieces of ass?”

  “Leave it alone, it’s no one.”

  Before Jax could reply, Axe came over, his pants tented, and a busty redhead hanging onto his muscular arm. “You in on this?” He pointed to Jerry, who still had the three hoodrats all over him.

  Lifting his beer bottle to his lips, Chas shook his head.

  Wedging in between Chas and Jerry, Axe shouted, “Hey, brother, let’s go to my room and have some real fun with these sluts. I got one with me who is bursting at the seams.”

  Jerry shoved off the women and looked at Chas. “Last chance. You in?”

  “Nah. Go have some fun.”

  Both Axe and Jerry looked at him like he was crazy, gathered the women, and headed off to Axe’s room in the basement.

  “I gotta see what this bitch looks like. She must really be somethin’ if you’re passing that up.”

  “Fuck off.” Chas motioned for the prospect behind the bar to bring him another drink.

  After he finished his beer, he clapped Jax on the back and left. He leaned against the wall, waiting for his hard-on to go limp before he straddled his Harley. For a split-second, he almost walked back in to join Jerry and Axe with the busty sluts. Thinking better of it, he swung his leg over his bike then switched on the ignition and hit the road.

  On the ride to his house, he wondered if he’d made a mistake. Maybe he was aiming for the wrong pussy with the teaching librarian. A woman like that probably wanted a more educated guy, a proper guy, like the fuckwad he’d seen her with. Maybe he misread the want in her eyes and the way she sneaked looks at him, checking him out when she thought he wasn’t watching. Fuck, I want her. Bummed he had club business at Jack’s next lesson, he’d have to wait for the following week to see her again. He couldn’t wait to see all of her. He wanted to know if she had freckles all over, and if she had a patch of silky red hair on her sweet pussy.

  Chapter Eight

  At 10,400 feet, Cooper’s Peak Mountain was one of the highest in the Pinewood Springs area. The jagged peak, tinged in pink at sunrise and sunset, stood majestically above craggy slopes, aspen forests, and deep valleys sheltering several lakes. Brushstrokes of orange and gold painted the valleys below, as October began its display of color in the Rocky Mountains. Occasionally, a herd of caribou ventured down to the many lakes to drink, and the white-furred mountain goats perched high on granite rock ledges, overlooking the snow-capped peaks and the valley below.

  The annual Cooper’s Peak Motorcycle Rally brought entrants and spectators from around the state, as well as from neighboring states and beyond. Located in one of the valleys, lush with spruce and fir trees, the annual event raised thousands of dollars for the Boys Hope charity. The Insurgents had an affinity to the charity, especially since their vice president was rescued as a troubled teen living on the streets by the group in California. Ever since Hawk became a patched member, Boys Hope became their pet project.

  Early in the morning, vendors set up booths with all types of merchandise: t-shirts, jewelry, homemade jams, salsas, pies, and numerous motorcycle-related items. Food booths were plentiful, and each year, the chili cook-off was highly anticipated.

  Lone riders and bikers from various clubs were always in attendance. The Insurgents were not always the only outlaw club at the rally; sometimes, the Deadly Demons or the Midnight Hellraisers would participate. The Insurgents’ affiliate club, Night Rebels, from southern Colorado, was always in attendance. Steel, the president, and the other fifteen members, were a support club to the Insurgents. Due to the potential for violence whenever rival outlaw clubs shared the same space, law enforcement had a distinct presence, but they didn’t mess with anyone unless it was called for. All in all, the rally was a fun fundraiser. It brought the Pinewood Springs and surrounding communities together, as well as the biker community, and it raised money for a worthy cause.

  For the locals, the quasi-pumpkin patch at the rally always signified t
he slow descent into dark nights and cold, snowy months. After a few short weeks, the snow would replace the vibrant colors of the valley, and the lakes would shimmer with ice.

  When Chas arrived with Jack, the smoky scent of cumin and chili powder mixed with fresh apples played around his nostrils. Jack bolted toward the group of young boys he hung out with at various rallies throughout the year.

  “When you’re ready to pick your pumpkin, come get me, okay?” Chas said at Jack’s retreating back.

  “Okay, Dad,” Jack called over his shoulder as he joined up with the boys.

  Chas strode over to the Harley booth to check out the flashy ornaments they had lined up. Picking up a screaming skull, Chas held it up to the light and noticed when the sun hit it, the eyes glowed a prism of color. “Fuck, that’s cool,” Chas said aloud.

  “I had my eye on that one, too,” Steel, president of the Night Rebels, said.

  Chas flashed a wide grin and drew Steel into a bear hug. “Fuck, brother, how’ve you been? It’s been too long. I missed you at Sturgis this year.”

  Tall with broad shoulders, long black hair worn in a braid, and a nasty scar running down his face from his left eyebrow down to his mouth, Steel shook his head. “I fuckin’ hated to miss it, but I got some viral shit and it laid me out for weeks. Don’t have a clue what it was, but that motherfucker had me on my back, and not in a good way, you know what I mean?”

  Chas laughed.

  “Hi, honey.”

  A long arm wrapped around Chas’s neck as a strong, lavender scent permeated the air around him. Twisting his head sideways, he took in Brianna in her heavily made-up face, her short jean skirt, black barely-there top, and high-heeled black boots. Grimacing, he grabbed her arm and hissed, “Why the hell did you dress like a slut when our son is here with his friends? Brianna, use your goddamned head.”

  “There was a time when you loved how I dressed, babe. Now, you’ve turned into a fuckin’ straight-laced jerk. I dress the way I want, and I don’t give a shit if you like it or not. Jack’s a big boy. He’s gotta start seeing his mom the way she is.”

  “Yeah… a fuckin’ slut.”

  Running her fingers through his hair, she whispered in his ear, “A slut you loved fucking all the time. I know you haven’t forgotten.”

  Shaking off his arm, she bumped into Steel. Chas saw the way the biker checked her out.

  “This is your old lady, right?” Steel asked Chas while his eyes were still glued to Brianna’s generous cleavage.

  “We’re divorced.” A bitter taste rose in Chas’s mouth.

  “Is that so?” Steel gave Brianna a half-smile.

  “Yeah, I’m free and lonely.” She feigned a pout as she sidled up to him.

  Steel threw Chas a glance as if to ask if it were okay to fuck his ex-wife. Chas swept his arm out and said, “Be my guest, but watch her claws.”

  Brianna gave him a dirty look then curled her hand around Steel’s upper arm. Chas, glad Brianna found a distraction, went back to the Harley booth and bought the skull ornament.

  As he purchased another beer, Jack dashed over to him. “I’m ready to pick my pumpkin, Dad.”

  Nodding, Chas said, “Lead the way.”

  The pumpkin patch wasn’t a true patch, in that the pumpkins did not grow in the arid, high valley. They were brought to the rally by farmers around the area. Each year, Jack always looked to buy the biggest one in the lot.

  Jack weaved his way among the rows, trying to figure out which one would make the best jack-o’-lantern for Halloween. Standing back, Chas surveyed the pumpkin patch, his gaze lingering on a full, shapely ass clad in tight, dark blue denim. The woman was bent over as she tested different pumpkins by knocking on them and rolling them around. Chas, mesmerized by the way her ass and hips moved as she searched for the best one, leaned back against the wooden fence and enjoyed the view.

  After several minutes of searching, the woman finally stood up with a medium-sized one pressed against her chest. Spinning around, a pair of green eyes met his midnight-black ones. Recognition crept in and she gasped, “Oh…”

  Raising his eyebrows, a tingle of adrenaline curled around Chas’s dick. Fuck, the librarian’s got an ass that could bring a man to his knees. He hastened over to her. “Can I help you with that?”

  “No, I’m cool, but thanks,” she said as the pumpkin began to slide out of her grasp.

  Grabbing it, he wrestled it out of her arms, even though she protested. Brushing off the dust from her jeans, Addie tripped on a wooden plank on the ground. Chas dropped her pumpkin and gripped her arm. Pulling herself upright, she placed her hand on his and a shivering jolt passed through them. They stared at each other intently as their eyes acknowledged the connection between them.

  Fuck, what was that?

  Addie was the first to break the contact by bending over to pick up her discarded pumpkin. “I’m glad it didn’t smash. It took me a while to find the one I wanted.” She laughed, and it sounded like a delicate wind chime on a breezy day.

  I want to kiss her beautiful mouth again. I want her so bad.

  “Yeah, it’s a good thing. Now, no arguments. Give me the damn pumpkin.” Taking it out of her hands, Chas hoisted it up on his shoulder. “Give me your hand. You don’t want to trip again.”

  “Are you always this bossy?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He grabbed her hand, escorted her out of the fenced-in patch, and over to a wooden picnic table. He placed the pumpkin down and fetched her a mug of hot apple cider with a shot of cinnamon whiskey.

  “Wait here. I have to help Jack with his pumpkin.”

  She took a sip of the cider and coughed loudly. “What the hell kind of cider is this?”

  “The kind that makes you warm and loose. Just the way I like a woman.” He winked at her and went to find Jack.

  After spotting the boy, Chas hauled his enormous pumpkin over to the picnic table. “Damn, you got a big-ass one. You outdid yourself this year, buddy.”

  Grinning, Jack pointed at Addie’s pumpkin, and asked, “Is this the biggest one you could find?”

  “No, but it’s the biggest one I could handle.”

  “You shoulda had my dad carry a big one for you. He’s strong.”

  “Yes, I noticed,” she said, as her eyes roamed over Chas’s arms and chest.

  Chas’s dick twitched and he cursed under his breath. Fuck, I can’t pitch a tent right now.

  “I’m gonna go back and play with Ronnie and Tyler, Dad.”

  “Okay, but don’t wander off.”

  “Okay.” Jack rushed back to his friends.

  Chas turned back to Addie, his gaze lingering on her mouth. “You must’ve liked the cider. Your mug’s empty.”

  “I was thirsty.”

  “I’ll get you another.”

  He came back with two more. Reaching in his leather jacket’s pocket, he took out a small silver flask.

  “What’s that?” Addie asked.

  “Whiskey.”

  “I thought you said there was whiskey already in the cider.”

  “Not nearly enough.” Winking at her, he poured the liquor in her mug in spite of her objections. “You only live once, Ms. O’Leary.” He poured some in his, as well.

  “Did you race today?”

  He shook his head.

  “I’ve seen your Harley, and it’s a powerful machine,” she told him.

  “Just like the man who’s riding it.” With his fingers, he lightly stroked her arm. She’s so damn soft. And she smells wonderful.

  Pulling her arm away, she said, “You like flirting, don’t you?”

  “Only with hot women who turn me on. And you, Ms. O’Leary, turn me way the fuck on.”

  Redness spread across her cheeks.

  I love when she gets nervous and embarrassed. So damn cute and sexy.

  “I’m surprised to see you at the Rally,” he said.

  “I’ve never been to one, so I was curious. In town, everyone has been talking about
it so when a friend asked me to go, I jumped at the chance.”

  “Friend? Are you here with the guy I saw you with at Little Peppina’s?”

  “Matt? No, I came with Margaret and her husband. Margaret is older and works at the library.”

  The fuckwad looked like his name would be Matt.

  “I’m glad I came,” she continued.

  “Are you?” He touched her hand and gazed at her, the hunger in his eyes apparent.

  “Uh, yes, I am.” She slid her hand away. “Fall is my favorite season, and I love picking out pumpkins.”

  “Really?”

  I want to see her eyes dance with excitement, like they are now, when I suck her tits. Fuck, I bet her soft tits will fit perfectly in my hands.

  “Oh, yeah. I’ll make a jack-o’-lantern for my table on the balcony and use the pulp to make a pie. I make a killer pumpkin pie. I love savory flavors.”

  And I love sweet-tasting pussies.

  “Do you like pumpkin pie?” she asked.

  I like the taste of your lips and your intoxicating perfume. Sitting next to you, Ms. O’Leary, is driving me fuckin’ wild.

  “Do you like it?” she asked again.

  “What?”

  “Pumpkin pie. Were you zoning out on me? Thinking about all the cool motorcycles, huh?”

  “Yeah. Pumpkin pie’s good.” He smiled.

  I was thinking about sucking your tits, licking your clit, and fuckin’ your pussy, Ms. O’Leary.

  “Addie, are you ready to go home?” Margaret asked when she came over to the table. With her head cocked to the side, she regarded Chas.

  “Oh, Margaret, this is Mr. Vickers. He’s Jack’s dad.”

  A smile curled Margaret’s lips. “You’ve got a very nice boy. He’s always so polite and helpful. Very good boy.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Chas said.

  “Are you ready, Addie?” Margaret asked again.

  Shaking her head, Addie said, “Not really. I wanted to go on the hayride, but if you and Larry want to go, I’ll meet you at the car.”

  “It’s not me, dear, it’s Larry. His knee is acting up something awful.”