Page 2 of Breaking the Rules (Roaming Devils MC 1)

Ryker stamped his cigarette out. Maybe they did need to talk somewhere more private. He stood without saying anything and walked toward the back. The clubhouse was an old warehouse converted to one fucking nice party room. There were guests rooms for sleeping or fucking, depending on who it was, and there was a fully stocked bar in the center of it all. He led her to one of the rooms in the back and closed the door behind them. The room was soundproof, so he didn’t worry about any of the others listening to what he was doing. They probably thought she was a new fetish of his.

“Take your clothes off.”

She blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”

He grabbed her purse. “You come in here looking to buy cocaine. I know I’m not as smart as you, but I wasn’t born yesterday either.”

He searched through her things, noting that she only had money and regular girly products. He opened the door and tossed her purse into the hallway before turning back to her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“A wire.” He leaned against the door. “Come on. I don’t have all day.”

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, then closed it again. Instead of protesting, she lifted her shirt over her head and laid it on the bed behind her. Ryker stared at her perfect tits encased in a hot-pink bra. She was nice and natural. A full C or a small D. His mouth watered at the sight as he continued to let his gaze linger along her creamy skin. Her flat stomach was just as much of a turn-on as the juncture of her thighs. A little scrap of lace covered her tantalizing pussy when she pulled her pants off. It would only take one flick of his wrist to bare her to him. He could drop to his knees and finally fucking worship her with his tongue.

“Do I need to take everything off?” she asked.

Yes. “No.” He didn’t dare move away from the door. “Turn around.”

She turned slowly, revealing a firm ass that he ached to squeeze. He held back a groan as he gripped the doorknob, trying to remind himself what the hell he was doing.

“I’m not wearing a wire.” Ella finally stared at him. “Can you get me the drugs or not?”

Drugs. She wasn’t a user. He particularly didn’t want her to start. He’d been clean for nearly two years. It was a slippery slope once someone started spiraling down it.

“You’re not a user.”

“They’re not for me.” She glanced over at her clothing. “Can I put my clothes back on?”

“No.” The word popped out of his mouth before he’d thought better. He grabbed her clothes and squeezed them for any kind of technology that could be used against him. Her phone was in the pocket of her pants but he didn’t find anything else. He tossed them out into the hallway with her purse.

“Please tell me nobody is going to mess with my stuff.”

Nobody would touch it, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “What do you need the drugs for?”

Her gaze never wavered. “I can’t tell you.”

“Then I can’t help you.” He opened the door. “Get your shit and get out of here.”

She shook her head. “No, please.” He closed the door and waited. “My dad is in trouble.”

Ryker didn’t say anything. He didn’t even breathe. Her father was the reason he’d spent years behind bars. He couldn’t care less about that fucker being in trouble but he’d listen to her anyway. Even as fucked up as the situation was, he couldn’t tell her no. Not fully. Not how he should.

“He made a drug bust on one of the gangs in the city. They raided all their cocaine and money. When the gang retaliated, they kidnapped my dad and are demanding a ransom from me. They want their drugs back and I don’t know what to do.”

Problems were not something Ryker liked dealing with. Especially when they weren’t his. The one night he had Ella laid out beneath him, so soft and so ready to be fucked, her father nearly busted down the door on them. He arrested him for possession, and since Ryker was high, he couldn’t really deny any of it. The judge slapped a sentence on him due to the cut on his back, but he knew his father paid something to get the sentence reduced from the prosecutor. He also knew that the club wanted him behind bars to carry out business on the inside.

He shouldn’t be pissed about it, since it all worked out. He did his time and came back to land the sergeant-at-arms badge, under his father’s leadership. Maybe he was pissed that he’d had her before him that night, ready to be fucked, but his cock hadn’t gotten anywhere near the pussy he’d been gunning for. Maybe that was the real fucking issue.

“What gang?”

“Young Blood.”

Ryker folded his arms over his chest, longing to do a row. The wannabes of the East Coast gave out patches like candy on Halloween. They had numbers and played the part, but they didn’t have the balls to actually be a true one-percenter. Not the same way the Roaming Devils did.

“Please help me.” She glanced away. “I know you know them. I know you know what they are capable of. Please.”

“How much?”

---