Home > Bound by Family (Ravage MC Bound #1)(8)

Bound by Family (Ravage MC Bound #1)(8)
Author: Ryan Michele

About six months ago, Leah signed up for an internet dating website. She had high hopes of meeting someone, but instead, she gets propositioned with some crazy stuff.

“Alright. What has love chosen for you today?”

“Oh shit, there’s like, seven messages.”

I stare up at the ceiling, her clicking of the keys the only sound in the room. “You’re hot, what do you expect?”

She is. Long, dark hair, a kickass body, and stunning brown eyes. Why she wants to look for love on a dating site is beyond me. To each their own. I’m here for moral support and the laughs.

“Oh, my God!” Her hand flies over her mouth, and I sit up instantly, looking at the screen.

An image stares back at me. It takes me a moment to digest it. A woman is lying on her back, legs up, knees on either side of her face, ass in the air. A man is sitting on top of her, legs spread while reading the paper, both naked. It looks like he’s taking a shit on her.

“What the hell is this?”

“Apparently, this is the ‘butter churner.’ It’s a sexual position this guy wants to do to me.”

I burst out laughing, unable to hold it in. It racks my body so hard that I shake uncontrollably. “What! He wants to shit on you and read the paper?”

She scrolls down through his message. “He says he likes having his women sit like this. His dick inside her, while he sits and either reads the paper or watches television.”

“Like a damn chair? Don’t they make some kind of blowup doll or something for that?”

“Hell if I know. Wouldn’t it, like, break a guy’s dick to just sit in that position? I mean, he’d have to, like, push his dick, like, straight down. How is that even comfortable?”

Laughter bubbles in the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing back. Tears stream from my eyes, and my stomach clenches.

“How does this relate to a butter churner? Where would that name even come from?”

Leah hiccups her laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe he likes to circle his hips or move up and down. Oh, my God, this is just nuts.”

“So, he’s out.”

“Ya think?”

I fall back on the bed. “What else did ya get?”

She clicks around. “A marriage proposal and five date requests. Oh, Lord …”

“What now?”

She brings the laptop over to me and sets it on my belly. I read: I want you to whip me and spank me. Make me drink your piss. I’m your slave; you’re my master. This guy didn’t send a picture, thank goodness, but his profile picture is so fake.

“Leah, that guy is a model. I’ve seen him in magazines. There’s no way this is legit. Someone is yanking your chain.”

She lies down beside me and looks at the picture. “No way.”

“Lord, the things we do for entertainment. You’re not going on any of those.”

“I know. It sucks. Where are the good men?”

“Damned if I know.”

 

Bang … Bang.

My eyes flutter open at the sound. I look around, noting I’m in my small living room, lying on the couch. I must’ve fallen asleep. Naps are my friend, not that I get a lot of them.

“Bristyl! Open up,” Stone’s voice comes through the door.

Rolling off the couch with a groan, I move toward the door and open it.

My brother breezes right in, almost knocking me over in the process. Come on in.

He enters the kitchen and opens my refrigerator, his head buried inside of it.

“Sure, Stone, eat whatever you’d like. Drink whatever you’d like.”

“Shut it,” he says back, pulling out a small bit of a sandwich I didn’t eat a few days ago and chomping on it.

A smile plays on my lips, remembering I should have thrown it away because I dropped the sandwich on the ground. Serves him right.

“You bellowed?” I ask, resting my hip on the side counter.

My kitchen is small. It has the necessities—fridge, stove, sink, and microwave—but it’s about the size of a postage stamp. My father redid the countertops and put in new cabinets about three years ago, and I’ve kept it in really good shape. My cooking skill suck, so it’s golden for me.

“We got a run. We’ll be gone for a few days,” he tells me.

I shrug. “And?” This isn’t something new. My father and several of the guys go out on runs all the time. I don’t know what they do on them, and I don’t want to know. As long as they come home in one piece, that’s all I give a shit about.

“Most of us are going, including Hunter, Racer, Dad and me.”

This does come as a bit of a shock. Usually, one or two of my brothers stay behind. Someone is always at the clubhouse or garage when I’m there for work. It’s a bit unusual, but it’s their club and how they run it. I can’t say it doesn’t give me a twinge of anxiety, though, and I’m not sure why. The air in the club has been different these past few weeks, and I wish I knew the reason. It must just be me.

“Okay …?” I draw out, waiting for more of this puzzle to come together.

He shoves the sandwich into his mouth, then grabs a soda I didn’t see him pull out, popping the top and taking a swig. He’s tall, go figure. Unlike the rest of us, Stone has dark hair, almost black. He wears it long on the top and shaved on the sides. He has a slight beard and hazel eyes. They aren’t blue or green, but both. When I was younger, I used to hope I could have his eyes. Then reality kicked in.

“You’re on storage and laundromat duty.”

“Stone, I got this. I do it every day.”

“But one of us goes and fixes whatever’s wrong. You either need to call in one of our people or take a prospect with you if something happens.”

“Got it.”

No way in hell I’m calling a prospect to go with me to fix something. Normal things that happen are the bill validator jams up or someone can’t get a machine to work. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Yes, it’s nice to call one of my brothers and have them do it, but I’m more than capable. Needing a babysitter is not on my agenda.

“Just try not to burn it down.”

I hit him on his shoulder. “I only burned a trailer, and it wasn’t my fault!” I charge back with a smile in my tone. “That old thing needed to go, anyway.”

“Bristyl, you can’t burn a man’s camper on storage unit property. At least take it out in the back field.”

“I didn’t mean to.” I really didn’t. Its propane tank had a leak, and I didn’t know.

I had just tried starting to smoke. I lit a cigarette and boom. Luckily, I wasn’t hurt. Thrown back and hit my head, but not hurt. That was also the last smoke I put between my lips.

“Mean to or not, no fires.”

“No fires,” I repeat. “I got this, Stone. You don’t need to worry.”

He steps closer and wraps his arm around me before pulling me to him. I inhale the leather, smoke, and spice that is my brother. The scent is a comfort. His lips touch the top of my head, adding to that warm feeling.

“I’ll always worry about you … until I take my fuckin’ dying breath.”

I squeeze him a little bit harder. “I know, but you gotta let me loose a bit.”

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