Until Us

---

Until Us - book excerpt

Stone

“Fuck, faster, sweet thing. Fuck me real good.”

I groaned as the sweet little piece on my lap clenched her pussy around my cock and my fuckin’ control snapped. I growled my climax into the steamed-up shower room where she’d found me and my spine contracted as the harsh tension loosened while my cock emptied into the hot box surrounding it.

“Shit, girl. That was hot. Hop off me. I’ve gotta get ready.”

Yeah. You guessed it. I wasn’t about to profess some sort of undying love for this chick.

Did that make me an asshole, a jerk? Probably. But yet, she’d known what she was getting into when she decided to slip past my security guards and slide her pussy down my raging hard cock.

“But baby…”

My head snapped toward her so fast I was surprised it didn’t break. Pinning my gaze to hers, I made damn sure she saw the fury in my face before I spoke, my voice an octave lower than normal, just so she would get the gist of my ire.

“Don’t. Fucking. Call. Me. That. I ain’t your baby. Or your patsy and I sure as hell ain’t your boyfriend. I haven’t been that to a woman in a very long time, sweetheart. You best remember that before you open that big mouth of yours again. Got that?”

“I’m sorry, Stone.”

“Fine. Get off me. I have to be in the basement in an hour.”

The girl scrambled off my lap then, not even taking the time to pick up her ruined panties off the floor before she fled the room and slammed the door behind her. I grinned widely at the thought that I must have scared the pretty little thing away.

Did that a lot.

Being the president of the most lethal motorcycle club south of Dallas required it. The Black Harts owned our little town of Haven, Texas and protected its streets. We weren’t good men; that was for sure. We weren’t law-abiding people and I doubted any of us ever would be.

But we did what was best for this town, even if its residents didn’t know it.

They called me Stone Cold for a reason.

I wasn’t a talker.

I wasn’t a pleaser.

I was a rock.

Unmovable.

Unfeeling.

Impenetrable.

I didn’t show emotion, because I had been raised that way. Didn’t come from much, but one thing had always stayed with me, from a very young age.

Don’t let them see you.

It was the only lesson my father ever gave me. He believed that showing emotion was a weakness, so I never did. I steeled my barren, black heart and never let anyone see it.

Suddenly, all the blood drained from my face as I realized that, in my lust-filled frenzy, I’d forgotten one thing.

I was in the shower.

I didn’t have even a scrap of clothing on.

“Fuck!”

My eyes moved down to my feet, frantic hands bracing myself on the tiled showers walls as I looked at what was once my right leg. To the naked eye, you wouldn’t know anything was awry. The chick, whose name I hadn’t the faintest clue of, couldn’t have known anything was up. If she had, she would have said something. And by now, my whole crew would know the real reason I never wore shorts in the summer months. Why I refused to undress, even partially in front of any of them. Why I’d been single for the ten years I’d been back from my last tour in Afghanistan, where an IUD had exploded in front of me, causing me to lose the lower half of my leg and eventually, its entirety when doctors back home were forced to amputate it.

In its place was a realistic-looking prosthetic that, in time, I’d learned to walk on without much difficulty. At first, I’d chalked it up to some soreness from the accident. The only soul who knew what had really happened was my right-hand man, my VP, my best fuckin’ friend, Axel. He’d been by my side through it all and never told a soul my most hidden secret.

I knocked my head back against the shower door, letting out a relieved breath.

Thank fuckin’ God my secret was still safe.

***

“Where is he?”

Axel looked my way from across the dark space of the basement, the lowest level of the house and, to many that have graced its walls, hell on earth. It was where people came to die; came to rot; came to confess their worst sins. Today, it was just another man, another body, another mark.

Usually, I’d let my men handle it. Either Axel or one of the older members of the club. They operated on an old-school way of doing things, torturing their victims until they were forced to tell their deepest secrets; their confessions bursting from them just seconds before the final slice of a blade or the cock of a gun ended them, for good. Today, though; today was different. Today was personal for me and I’d be fucked if I wasn’t going to handle it myself.

There was something that had driven me to be the fucked-up, black-hearted, uncaring man I was today… one event that had steeled my soul and hardened my emotions. That event had happened on one chilly autumn night, back when I was just a stupid kid.

The night my sister, Melanie was killed.

It was a drunk driver, they said.

It was a senseless accident, they said.

You know what I said? They will pay for this.

And even as a scrawny teenager with a measly few dollars in my pocket, I had meant every word.

Today, I would have that chance to get retribution for her.

Never again would I hear her laugh or see her beautiful smile.

But I could allow her to rest in peace, once and for all.

And the payback was gonna be sweet.  

“Third room down the hall, man. You ready for this?”

I steeled my gaze, unwilling to let him see even an ounce of how much I actually cared about this shit, because that was a whole lot. I just nodded my head, clapped a rough hand over his shoulder as I passed and took one deep breath before I faced the metal-plated door that met my sight.

No one would hear his screams or his pleas for mercy.

Nah, only I’d get that privilege.

And I opened the door.