Rock's Redemption: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 8) Page 5

  Hawk threw him a dirty look. “As I was saying, we don’t do this type of work, but we owe Liam for the job Shack fucked up last year in Nebraska. Besides, Liam never asks favors from us.”

  “Who’re we protecting?” Rock propped his elbows on the wood table.

  “Frederick Blair. He’s a billionaire who’s having a dinner party at his estate in Aspen and he wants some muscle. The total worth in the room makes him and his guests targets.”

  “What the hell does Liam have to do with him?” Jerry asked.

  “He buys big, expensive, and illegal toys for the ultra-wealthy. Men like Frederick Blair have too much money and time on their hands. That’s what makes them dangerous as hell. But what they buy and what they do with it isn’t our business. We’re there to babysit a bunch of rich fucks. That’s pretty much it.”

  “I know I’m gonna be on this fuckin’ babysitting duty,” Rock said aloud.

  “Me too.” Jax shook his head. “The muscle of the club always does this type of work. Shit.”

  “Yeah. Shit.”

  “So, Rock, Bones, Wheelie, Throttle, Jax, Rags, Chas, Bear, and Axe will be the ones to cover this detail. The party is this Saturday night. You have to be there at six o’clock in the evening. The security at the estate will brief you on where things are and the lay of the land. The money earned from this job will go in the club fund after the brothers who work it get their pay. Rock is in charge. Any questions?”

  “Is this gonna be something the club’s gonna start doing regularly?” Bruiser asked. “I remember doing this shit before some of the brothers were even born.” He chuckled. “We used to do the nightclubs and concert halls. You remember that, Banger?”

  Banger smiled and nodded. “You’re taking us back pretty far, dude.” Bruiser grinned, and Rock noticed a warmth pass between the two older brothers. “Anyway, we’re just doing this to help Liam and make some money too. We’ll see how it goes, and if the rich fuck needs us again, we’ll do it. It’s easy money.” Banger looked around the room. “Any more questions?”

  The members shook their heads and their president picked up the gavel, hit it on the table, and announced that church was adjourned.

  By the time the guys shuffled to the great room, the sun had begun to set and a golden pink glow bathed the room. The scent of hickory chips tantalized Rock’s nostrils as wisps of smoke filtered in from the opened back door. Two large grills were smoking as they waited for Bruiser, Bear, and Hawk to cook up steak and chicken. A large pot of baked beans simmered on a hot plate, and mountains of potato and macaroni salad were placed on the long buffet table by Wendy and Rosie. The club girls had made up the sides, and the tinge of pink in their cheeks told the brothers they were excited to start the party.

  Rock, beer in hand, walked out back. The smell of grilling always brought him back to his childhood. His mother would use the grill they’d had in the backyard to smoke ribs and andouille sausages. She’d also boil crawfish in big pots on their outdoor propane cooker. Since he’d moved to Colorado, he hadn’t had a crawfish boil, and he suddenly missed it. Damn. Why the fuck is my mind back in Lafayette? What the fuck’s going on? For the past seven years, Rock rarely thought about his life back in Louisiana; there was no need for it. But talking to Isa the previous night stirred something inside him. Something he had buried deep where it couldn’t hurt him.

  “You hungry?” Hawk laughed as he lined up the steaks on the grill.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fuckin’ starving.” Rock watched as the juices from the steak sputtered and sparked in the flames. “You need some help?”

  “Nope. I have a handle on it.”

  Soon the members and the women—both club girls and hoodrats—congregated near the food as Puck and Blade hurriedly set up a makeshift bar adjacent to the buffet table. Rock grabbed a spot at one of the aluminum picnic tables and scanned the crowd, soon spotting a pretty brunette whose hair ended right above her butt. As if she sensed him staring, she turned around and smiled at him, her eyes moving over his six-foot-one body.

  Rock was a sight to behold with his dark wavy hair curling right above his collar, inky black eyes, strong jaw, and a perfect Roman nose. His tanned skin was taut above hard, defined muscles that moved and flexed in a mesmerizing way, making the tats adorning his flesh come alive. Several earrings dangled from each ear, and a thick silver-chained necklace gleamed against his corded neck. When women spotted him, they vied for his attention, but he’d walk past them, a smirk dancing on his full, sensuous lips. He knew women wanted him, and when they spotted the Sergeant-At-Arms patch on his cut or jacket, they promised him wild sex any way he wanted it. Sometimes he took them up on their offer, but most times he’d just smile and say, “Another time,” in a low, throaty voice that stroked the women’s senses like velvet. He rarely went with citizens, preferring the no-strings-attached sex the club women and hoodrats offered.

  Kristy, one of the club girls, slipped in the space next to him, her nails running up and down his forearm. “You want me to get you a drink?”

  Rock noticed the look of disappointment on the pretty brunette’s face as Kristy fused herself to his side. He slid over a bit and put a sliver of space between them. “I’ll get my own. Bones was looking for you.”

  “I want you. Don’t you want me?”

  His gaze lingered on her breasts as they practically popped out of a crop top a size too small for her. He’d licked, sucked, and fucked those tits more times than he could count. Kristy was a club girl who’d be available the following day, week, month, and, most probably, year. That night he wanted something new, not a club girl he could fuck any time. “I’ve already decided on someone, babe. Be a good girl and go find Bones.” He dipped his head down and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Tomorrow, okay?”

  She squeezed his inner thigh, her fingers close to his dick. “We got a date for tomorrow. Where’s Bones?”

  He lightly brushed her hand away and then jerked his head toward the back door. “He’s in the great room playing darts.”

  Kristy stood up and he smacked her jiggling ass as she walked away from him. She threw him a big smile and headed toward the back door. He watched her until she disappeared, then turned back to find the cute brunette he wanted to bang. She was next to the buffet table, plate in hand, spooning some macaroni salad on it. He saw Rags giving her the eye and Rock scrambled over to her before Rags could reach her.

  “You don’t want any steak?” he asked her.

  She smiled broadly when she turned around and saw him. She shook her head. “I’m vegetarian.”

  “How the fuck does that work? You never eat steak or ribs? How the hell can you live without them?”

  She laughed and moved close to him so her orchid-scented body brushed against his. The softness of her touch, her scent, and her cute upturned nose made his dick jerk. He figured he’d be fucking her senseless right after they finished eating. With his arm around her shoulders, he carried her plate back to the table and pulled her close to him.

  The night was turning out like most of his nights at the club: strong booze, delicious food, and hard fucking. He lived a hedonistic life of drinks, parties, and sex, and he couldn’t imagine what more a man could want.

  The brunette leaned into him and placed her soft hand on his face, turning him to her. She kissed him passionately and moaned when his fingers kneaded her tits.

  Another night in paradise.

  Fuck yeah!

  * * *

  On Saturday evening the bodyguard brigade made the one-hour trip to Aspen to the lavish estate of Frederick Blair. Hidden behind thirty-foot stone walls, the Blair mansion had twelve bedrooms, sixteen bathrooms, twenty wood-burning fireplaces, and two kitchens. It also had a fully finished basement that was off-limits to the staff who lived and worked at the estate.

  Rock whistled under his breath. “Fuck. The place looks like a hotel. You could fit a small town in there.”

  “Why the hell would anyone want to li
ve in something so big?” Axe asked. “Shit, if your woman is pissed at you, it could take a week to find her.”

  The brothers laughed as they waited for the iron gate to open and let them in. In a few minutes they were roaring up the driveway, parking their iron machines to the left of the house in a small parking lot, as they had been instructed to do. They met with a large-framed man who sported a reddish-brown, bushy moustache. He tilted his head at them. “The name’s Kevin, and I’m head of security for Mr. Blair. Tonight your duties are making sure the outside is secure. Mr. Blair has five thousand acres, but you’ll be responsible to make sure no one gets near the house. Three of you will be stationed in the house and the others will be outside. Do you have any questions?”

  Since Rock was the Sergeant-At-Arms, he was in charge of every security gig the club did. He shook his head. “It seems pretty basic. How long do you figure this shindig’s gonna last?” Rock didn’t want to waste an entire Saturday night babysitting a bunch of rich people.

  “I don’t know. Mr. Blair will let you know when it’s over. Sometimes his parties can go all night, and other times just a few hours.” Kevin turned and pointed to Rock, Wheelie, and Bear, motioning them to follow him. “You three will do inside duty. The rest will be out here. I’ll be in and out all night, so let me know if you have any questions or need anything.”

  The three brothers followed him to the house, entering and then staring up at a wood staircase that spiraled around an enormous wrought-iron chandelier that Rock surmised to be about three stories high. Their leather boots tapped loudly on the pristine white marble floor as the men followed Kevin into a spacious room that had large cushy couches, several armchairs, an enormous fireplace, and, in the back, a large wooden table with twelve chairs around it.

  “This is where the party will be. Mr. Blair wants two of you present in the room and one in the front hallway. At no time does he want you to engage in conversation with him or his guests. You are not to talk with each other. Your job is to be alert for anything amiss, nothing more.”

  Rock clenched his jaw. The prick was starting to piss him off. He looked over at Wheelie and Bear and saw their tight faces, and clenched fists. He chuckled inwardly. Insurgents didn’t like anyone telling them what the hell they could or couldn’t do. This Mr. Blair could take his rules and shove them up his ass.

  Kevin bowed his head slightly. “I’ll leave you, then.” In a few seconds he was gone, disappearing down one of the many hallways.

  “This is gonna fuckin’ suck,” Rock said to Bear and Wheelie, who nodded in agreement. “I can’t believe Banger got us into this shit.”

  Before the other two bikers could answer, a tall, lean man in his early forties entered the room. He had blond hair and pale blue eyes surrounded by fine lines. He wore perfectly pressed khaki trousers and a lime-green sports shirt with yellow pinstripes. He smiled when he stopped before them, his too-white teeth looking ridiculous against his overly tanned face. “You must be the backup Liam promised me.”

  You fucking know we are, asshole. For reasons Rock couldn’t articulate, he didn’t like their employer. There was something about him that was cruel and evil just below the surface of his too-tanned skin. Rock could sense it, smell it, and its scent was rotten to the core.

  The three bikers stood stone-faced before him, and Blair chuckled nervously while he jammed his hands in and out of his pockets repeatedly. “I’m sure Kevin explained everything to you. Right?”

  Rock jerked his chin up.

  Blair licked his lips, then pressed them together. “Okay. Well then, I don’t need to tell you that anything that goes on inside the house is private. I don’t want the names of my guests or what we do or talk about ever leaked out. Understood?”

  Rock crossed his arms and stood stiff with his legs spread apart. His tattoos rippled as his muscles tensed. “We’re not fuckin’ snitches,” he growled.

  Blair’s eyes widened. “No, I didn’t mean that you were.”

  “Then you don’t have to tell us that shit,” Bear gritted.

  Rock glanced at Bear’s darkening face. He hates this asshole too. He stood frozen to his spot, his eyes boring into Blair. An awkward silence fell over them and they stood rigid as soldiers as their employer ran his hand through his short hair.

  “Well then,” Mr. Blair’s voice sliced through the tension, “take your positions. The guests will be arriving shortly.” He turned around quickly and disappeared from the room.

  “What a fuckin’ prick,” Rock said. Wheelie and Bear voiced their agreement.

  Wheelie would man the hallway, and Bear and Rock would stay in the living and dining room. They stood around for about thirty minutes before the doorbell rang and Blair appeared out of nowhere to answer it. “John, Sebastian, Alex, it’s so good to see you. Peter and Roger, you both as well. How’ve you been?”

  “Very good, Frederick,” several voices chimed.

  Rock turned to look toward the hallway, watching Wheelie’s eyebrows rise and then lower immediately. Five men from their late thirties to early fifties came in with five attractive women behind them who wore raincoats. When they entered the living room, the men turned to their women and gave them a hard stare. They each took off their coats, handing them to one of the staff. Rock sucked in his breath and heard Bear do the same: the women were naked except for black collars. Long leashes were attached to the metal D-rings on the collars. What the fuck? Frederick gestured to the men to sit and they sank down on the couches and armchairs while the women knelt—butts against their calves, hands on their thighs palms up—next to their partner.

  “What the fuck is this?” Bear said in a low voice.

  “A dinner party.” Rock grinned. “Getting some ideas, are you?”

  “I can’t see the club girls kneeling next to us without a cock in their mouths. No way.”

  “Yeah, they’re not the submissive type. This must be a play party.”

  “All of a sudden this gig doesn’t seem so bad.” Bear turned his gaze back to the living room.

  The waitstaff filled drinks, passed hors d’oeuvres, and acted like it was an everyday occurrence to have a dinner party with naked women kneeling in front of their men, collared and silent. It blew Rock away; he surmised they must be part of the lifestyle. The caterer came out of the kitchen, bent down, and said something in Frederick’s ear. He smiled, stood up, and announced that dinner was ready. The male guests rose to their feet and followed him into the dining room, tugging their crawling women behind them.

  Rock couldn’t help but gaze at the women, catching the eye of one who quickly looked down, her face reddening in embarrassment. He felt bad and made himself stare at the paintings on the wall, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught her looking at him and wiggling her butt on the rug. The man with her yanked her leash hard, jerking her forward. She yelped and he said in a cold voice, “Be still, slutty vixen, or I’ll punish you.” She immediately shifted her gaze downward.

  “And where is your beautiful fucktoy, Frederick?” one of the men asked as he brought a glass of white wine to his mouth.

  “She’s coming. If I didn’t know you, I’d swear you’re trying to steal her away from me, John.” Frederick laughed, but Rock picked up a hard edge in his laughter.

  “She is beautiful,” a portly man said as he patted his woman on the head. “Have you changed your mind about lending her out?”

  Frederick’s eyes narrowed. “No, Sebastian. I haven’t.”

  As if on cue, a woman with brown hair streaked in golden highlights entered the room. She wore a tight-fitting red dress that hugged all her curves, three-inch-heeled shoes that made her rounded ass higher, and a black collar with metal studs. She walked with elegance over to Frederick. Her long hair hung over the side of her face, and all Rock could see was her ripe body busting out of her dress. When the scent of amber and vanilla ribboned around him, his dick twitched and he cursed under his breath.

  “Come here, pet.” Frederic
k stretched his hand out and smiled when she placed hers into it. He yanked her down to his face, kissed her, and then placed his arm on her shoulders. “Kneel,” he ordered. She immediately dropped to her knees, her head bowed.

  Rock watched the lust shine in the eyes of the men seated at the table, and he wished he could see the woman in red’s face.

  “It doesn’t seem fair that we lend our whores to you but you keep yours all to yourself.” Sebastian licked his lips as he boldly stared at the woman kneeling next to Frederick.

  “You and your slaves signed a contract allowing for lending out. My pet and I did not. However, I may feel generous tonight and let you touch her.”

  Rock saw the woman in red jerk at his words. For a split second, Rock wanted to know how she’d ended up kneeling on the floor next to the rich sonofabitch. But he reminded himself it wasn’t his business. The power play between the men and women was something they all wanted.

  As the men gorged on steak, asparagus, and potatoes, the women knelt patiently by their partners. Every once in a while, the men would cut a piece from their steak, pick it up, and put it in their women’s mouths, letting their fingers linger so the women could lick them. As the women were fed, they seemed to become more aroused—except for the clothed one. She opened her mouth and took the morsels of food Frederick fed her, but she didn’t seem to enjoy his fingers lingering in her mouth.

  From where he stood, Rock could feel her resentment for the man who controlled her, and for a quick moment he wondered if she were willingly his submissive or was being forced into his world. Bear grunted and Rock turned to him. “This is fucked, man,” he said under his breath. Rock shrugged, his gaze pulled back to the woman Frederick was feeding.

  For some reason, Rock was drawn to her. The pull was strong, but he knew it was insane; he didn’t know anything about her, and she was Frederick’s wife or partner. Plus, she hadn’t even noticed him. Some of the women sneaked peeks at him, but the clothed woman stayed perfectly still, her hair half in her face. The only thing exposed to him was her full, shining red lips that wrapped around the piece of steak each time it was given to her. I’d love those lips around my cock. What the fuck am I saying? Why the hell did Banger take this shitty job? Something about the woman touched him; he wanted to find out her name, where she was from, and if she were with Frederick of her own accord.