Read The Riot (Hell's Disciples MC Book 5) for Free Online

woman I ever think about. Our pull to each other is strong.
    There’s nothing like finding a woman that will let you do whatever the fuck you want to her. If I tell Ellison to bend over and grab her ankles, she does it. If I want to spend two hours eating her pussy, she’s all for it. She’s my sexual fantasy, and I’ll be damned if I give her up.
    Sliding into a seat, I lean back and stretch out right in front of the stage, front and center. There’s no way in hell she can miss me, and that’s exactly how I like it.
    I hate Sundays.
    “No fuckin’ clue how you deal with this,” Buck says, claiming the seat next me.
    “I couldn’t share her man,” Tyler adds, sitting down on the other side of the table.
    I thoroughly enjoy when they share their dumbass opinions.
    “It’s life.”
    Finally, at midnight, the lights dim and the butt rock fades into something so fucking familiar it makes me sick, Red Light Special . Ellison likes her nineties music loud and old school.
    Watching the stage, I catch movement to the side and I hold my fucking breath, bracing for it. I hate this part. Hate it more than I hate letting her go. She crushes me a little every time she comes onto this stage.
    After a beat, El walks out onto the stage like she owns it. Every man in the joint is on the edge of his seat, bills in hand, waiting for the goddamn thrill of their life as they watch her glide to the middle of the stage.
    She walks out like a queen—a fucking goddess—entitled and on top of the world. You’d never know she came from shit. We both did. There’s a look on her face so believable, so real, that you’d think she wants to be here, that there is nowhere she’d rather be than right here for your enjoyment. Her smile is sly and sexy. Those eyes are low and needy. Her body, that body , is every man’s dream.
    But it’s all a fuckin’ lie.
    Giving the pole a caress, she bends over and shakes her ass, slowly, with practiced perfection. Everything moves in all the right places, and parts of her that belong to me are visible.
    “I hate this shit,” I grumble, shooting back the rest of my double.
    Wearing all black, she’s the sexiest woman in the place…hell, the state. But all I can see is that seven-year-old little girl singing this song into a hairbrush, wearing a tutu, while dancing in her living room. Seven, and so fucking innocent, belting out lyrics she couldn’t even begin to understand. Seven, and not a care in the world.
    But things changed.
    Drastically.
    Ellison
    Standing in Rock’s dark room, I can feel him at my back. He’s close, but not close enough. His overwhelming presence is larger than life.
    My skin is on fire. Awareness snakes its way down my spine, and an involuntary shiver runs up my arms.
    The door closes, and I know there’s no going back now. Once Rock gets me, he has a hard time letting me go. I know this. It’s a mistake, it always is, but I can never tell him no. I want him, just as much as he wants me.
    “Rocky?”
    “Hmm?” I feel his breath on my shoulder, close to my ear. He puts his hand on my back, encouraging me to go further inside. I’ve been in his place countless times, and every time feels like the first. A nervous ball of dread and excitement sits in the pit of my stomach, and my knees feel weak.
    We’ve been doing this for a long time now. The first time wasn’t sweet, and it sure as shit wasn’t romantic. It was after a bad date, and both of us went a little crazy. He pushed me up against the front door and fucked me senseless. We’re not a serious thing, but we’re a beautiful fucking mess when we are together. 
    We’re a disaster.
    But we’re fire.
    Walking inside, his hand remains on my back, his thumb rubbing along my skin. Walking through the small living room and to his bed, I pause. “I shouldn’t be here,” I tell him, just like I always do. “But I want to be.” We don’t make sense. We’re singing a different song, but it’s always the same