Page 1 of Property of Madman

Chapter 1

MADMAN

“Welcome to King’s Breeders,” I offer the customary greeting with the non-threatening smirk I’ve nearly perfected to the point it no longer looks as if I’m sucking on a sour lemon. Don’t get me wrong, I love my club, fucking love it. I also love our business, as the men around here like to say, “You can’t go wrong with pussy.” And in this case, our livelihood depends on it.

“Charming,” The woman before me smiles devilishly, and offers me her hand. She wants me to kiss it, the intent stamped clearly across her face, and I will.For now.I need her to sign a contract and put a deposit down, so I’ll shmooze and play nice until then. After all, this is part of my job, and I’m basically a motherfucking champ at it.

I gently take her hand, pressing a kiss to the top. It feels like all the rest, silky-smooth, well moisturized, and fuckingrich.

“And you’re a gentleman, too,” she murmurs, a bit breathless from my touch and presence. I’m not a cocky S.O.B., but I’m well aware I have a strong effect on women. I always have.

Our clients here are all the same. They’re used to being spoiled because of their fat wallets, but still weak in the pussy for a man with muscles and a pair of sparkling baby blues. I’ve been told I have lashes women pay for, whatever the fuck that means, but I’ll take it. They help me when I need to bust out the big guns ofpersuasion and get a deal done, to get the club paid and another on the books. “I hope your trip here wasn’t too stressful on you, ma’am.”

She shakes her head, “Call me Felicia, and no, darling, it wasn’t too taxing on me. I couldn’t help admiring your land as we drove in, such a peaceful place. Full of livestock, how many horses are on the property?”

“I believe we’re currently at seventy-five.”

“Wow, and you have staff, I’m assuming?”

These wealthy people always have the same questions. It’s become second nature to have all the answers to their questions before they ever have the chance to ask them.

“No, ma’am. Our MC runs the ranch. It’s our full-time job along with King’s Breeders.”

“Busy boys.” She leans in, squeezing my bicep, “No wonder you’re all so well endowed.” Her gaze rakes over me, taking in every inch while not so subtly licking her bottom lip.

I’m a tattooed piece of man meat at the end of the day, we all are. I’ve made peace with it because it pays damn good and allows us to lead the lives we do. You can’t put a price on the freedom of living off the grid, of being able to climb on our bikes and feel the wind on our flesh, so I’d be willing to do just about anything to keep it. Probably why we’re one-percenters and make our own rules.Nobody fucks with the Kings.

Opening my office door, I step to the side so she can enter ahead of me. The NDA is on top of my desk, along with a pen, waiting for her signature. She has to sign before I go into any full details with her.

“I don’t typically sign anything without my lawyer present or at least reviewing the documents prior. I was disappointed you wouldn’t allow him to tour as well and review all of the literature provided.”

“We take our privacy very seriously here.” Hence, the expansive plot of land our ranch sits on, the mountains to the north, and the natural landscaping we’ve left in place thickly past our fences. We want to keep people out of our business at all times when possible. The less they know about us and what we’re doing up here, the better. Hell, you go to the east side of our ranch, and it’s like a goddamn forest. There are probably some bears, mountain cats, and a gator or two out that way, unknowingly helping us out with nosy fuckers or rival clubs. As long as they stay away from my livestock, they’re welcome to call this place home right alongside us.

“I see that, but aren’t you worried about losing my business, or others? I have a hefty friend circle I could give great referrals to if I were to book your services and be pleased with the outcome.”

If she only had a clue how large our client list is, she would be keeping her comments to herself. Rather than elaborate, I play the ignorant biker, which is exactly what she sees me for and expects. “We manage to stay busy around here, ma’am.”

And if anyone is stupid enough to dig too deeply and cross us, well, we have a private backend of the ranch full of dangerous mountains for a reason. We handle our scuffles around here; either they get settled, or a body ends up buried.

“Do you-do you always wear the cowboy hats?” She nearly stutters, glancing at mine, and I swallow down a smirk, handing her the pen.

“If you need us to, it can be arranged.”

“And when do I get to see the breeders? Are they kept on the ranch too?”

“You sign that little paper, right there, sweetheart, and we’ll talk specifics.”

She hastily scribbles her signature, not paying it a second glance, and then I take her hand in mine. With that out of the way, I lead her down a private hall, blocked off with a thick, secure door. I key in the code,my birth date, obviously, and tug her along for the tour.

I begin my spiel the same way I always do with any potential new customers. “Here’s our viewing room. These clients have given us special consent for us to look in on them while we’re doing tours of the facilities.”

“I see, and how do you match which stud to use with each client?”

“That’s entirely up to you. We have a lookbook you can view and choose your favorite based on whatever qualities you’d prefer. We also have other options.” Sweat dots her brow as she watches through the window, taking everything in. It’s getting real now that it’s in front of her and not only being talked about.

I continue, “Breeding is an extremely personal decision. You will have preferences and specifics in mind, I’m sure. We can’t make them happen if you aren’t able to do the choosing for yourself.”

“And what if I don’t? What happens if I can’t make up my mind?”

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