Read Riding Dirty for Free Online

annoyance. “If you follow my advice, you have my support and my protection. If you go off half-cocked and start a war with AB, you’re on your own. We don’t have the numbers to go against them.”
    Cole knew that. He wasn’t looking for war, just answers. “Are we done?”
    “Yeah, we’re done.”
    “What time should I be at the yard?”
    “You don’t have to start tomorrow.”
    “It’ll keep me out of trouble.”
    Bill grunted his approval. “Jose’s there at six. I’ll tell him to expect you.”
    As Cole rose from the chair, his uncle surprised Cole by standing with him and giving him a hug. When they broke apart, Bill cleared his throat and looked away. Cole figured he was thinking about Rylan. And Courtney, Bill’s only daughter.
    Cole was all Bill had left.
    His uncle’s motives were murky and his actions were usually self-serving, but he cared about Cole. They were family. It was possible that Bill had already settled the score with AB, and didn’t want to incriminate himself by giving Cole the details.
    Cole stopped at the front office to check in. The lady at the reception desk gave him a key to the jailhouse suite. Each room had an Old West theme and a sign above the door that said things like “General Store” and “Hitching Post.” His room had a sheriff’s star painted on the stucco and decorative bars on the windows.
    “Cute,” he muttered, letting himself in. He tossed his bag on the bed. Jigsaw had taken him shopping earlier. Cole had picked up some new clothes, a phone and other necessities. Although he’d showered this morning, he stripped and headed straight for the bathroom stall.
    As he stood under the hot spray, letting it hit the tense spot at the nape of his neck, he thought about his uncle’s advice. He could go back to the strip club. He could hook up with Tiffany again. She had a great body. She was beautiful. Uninhibited. They’d had a good time, even if he’d been a little too quick on the trigger. For some reason, he wasn’t eager to spend another night with her.
    It wasn’t that he didn’t consider her worthy of a second date. He wasn’t that choosy. Neither was she, apparently. He got the impression that she’d taken him home because he looked like a thug, and she was the kind of girl who got excited by danger. A lot of women did. If they didn’t, he’d never get laid.
    He wasn’t sure why he was tripping on it. He was a thug, so he couldn’t blame women for stereotyping him that way. But he didn’t feel satisfied with the bad-boy role anymore. He wanted something different. A woman who made a beeline in the opposite direction when she saw his tattoos. Someone who wasn’t turned on by his MC status and rough appearance. Someone out of his league, like Mia Richards.
    Now that was a classy piece of ass. He’d always preferred the opposite, but Mia appealed to him on every level. Physically, she was delicious. He liked her face and figure. She had pale skin, fine brown eyes, a pretty mouth. Pretty tits, he imagined. The fact that she’d never sleep with a lowlife like him, even if she wasn’t his psychologist, made the fantasy sharper. He’d love to stick it to Vargas by fucking her.
    Instead of going back to the strip club for Tiffany, he took his cock in his hand and conjured a dirty mental picture of Mia. He was already rock hard, straining upright. He hadn’t been able to jerk off in peace since he’d gone away. There was very little privacy in his cell, just a narrow upper bunk with a scratchy wool blanket. His calloused palm was no special treat, but stroking his cock alone in the shower was. It felt familiar and revitalizing, a rush of hot water and dizzying pleasure. Yeah.
    Soaping his balls, he pictured Mia perched on the edge of her desk, blouse unbuttoned. Her lips parted in invitation. Sleek thighs, spread wide. No panties under that prim skirt, so her pussy was exposed to his eyes. His touch. His hungry mouth. He’d lick every inch of