Axl (Sons of Chaos MC #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

excited me to think that I had the same effect on him that he did on me.
    So here I was, servicing this dirty biker’s cock on the side of the road, in the middle of the night, and I loved every second of it.
    When he started to come in my mouth, I ached with a need for him to fill me. I wanted to take him inside me, to feel everything he had to offer. He wasn’t salty, wasn’t bitter. Just sweet and sticky, and it satisfied me deeply as I swallowed him hungrily, not knowing when—or if—this would ever happen again. Even if this was destined to be a one-night stand—which it had better be—I wanted to savor every second of it.
    He ran his hands through my hair again, and for a brief moment, they lingered. Then he quickly removed his hands, almost as if he’d caught himself doing something he shouldn’t. He grabbed his cock, softer than before but still incredibly long and thick, and tucked it back inside his boxers as I stood up.
    But now, there seemed to be a distance between us. The look on his face, which had been one of intense pleasure, changed to one of disapproval. The moment of intimacy—if you could even call it that—had passed.
    Back to being a fucking asshole as soon as he got what he wanted. I should’ve known.
    He looked at me hard. “Do you have any idea how much bullshit you’ve caused?” he asked. “If the club gets the idea that you’re not under control, they just might take matters into their own hands.”
    My face flushed and felt hot. I could still taste him. “I’m not under your control,” I said.
    “Look,” Axl said, “’Til Ryker gives the word, you’re implicated in this.”
    “When’s that going to happen?”
    “Tonight. Like I told you. Probably be on your way already, if you hadn’t had this genius idea.”
    I paused. “So you’re saying this shouldn’t have happened?”
    He coughed. “I’m sayin’ you shouldn’t have run. Look. We gotta get back to the clubhouse and you’ll be floating outta here like Mary Poppins in no time.”
    “Fine,” I said. I wasn’t about to show this asshole exactly how conflicted that actually made me feel. Hell, I wasn’t even about to admit it to myself.
    He unclipped the spare helmet from the back of his bike and handed it to me. I pulled it over my head, and then felt his fingers against my jaw as he moved to adjust the strap. “I know how,” I said, twisting my head away from his hands. I reached up and succeeded in pulling the strap tight.
    A surprised smile came over his face. “Huh,” he said, “Guess you’re a natural.”
    We rode back to the clubhouse on his bike, my hands wrapped around his torso. I could feel his hard abs through the t-shirt under his open leather jacket. But hell if I was going to cop a feel and give him anything else to feel cocky about.
    When we got back to the club, we walked through the same door that I’d run out of. I followed Axl into the main room. It had reached a critical mass of bikers, and my little stunt had kept them all waiting. I went in expecting more crude jokes and wolf whistles—or worse—but instead we were greeted with cold, hard stares. I swallowed hard.
    “Boss!” shouted a voice from the crowd. “VP’s back. He’s got the gash with him.”
    I bristled at the biker’s language. It was fucking disgusting, but I didn’t dare talk back.
    On the side wall opposite the bar, one of two French double doors swung open, revealing what must’ve been the club office. Ryker emerged from the doors. A wave of agitated apprehension swirled around the room as he made his way through the crowd of bikers and lithely hopped up onto the bar counter. He stood tall, towering over the crowd. I couldn’t help but feel my eyes be drawn to him. There was something about him, a charisma that made me understand why he’d become the leader of this club.
    “Boys,” he roared in his Scottish accent, “I know you’re jonesing to hear the full story of the Reaper incident.” A murmur