Free Old Man's Ride: Dust Bowl Devils MC by Britten Thorne Page B

“Fuck.”
    “ Okay, girly. Sit back down. You can go home when you can stand.” He helped me take a seat on the curb. “Dad will be here soon.” Again, he sighed, unhappy with the situation but coming to accept it.
    “ Thanks, Gunner,” I said. I wasn’t going to forget what he’d done to my face. No way. But I’d still need his vote. If this doesn’t drag the vote out of him, nothing will.
    I realized it, then. I wanted to be a member. I wanted to be a Devil. I could take the good with the bad, because the good meant doing things like this - keeping people like Whitney safe. I was entangled in this life whether I liked it or not. At least I could do something positive with it.
    I heard the second group of motorcycles approach, watched the men hop off and remove their helmets. Bill, his VP, and Nomad. I nearly teared up when I saw him rushing towards me, his face drawn, pale with concern. The adrenaline was leaving my body, leaving me vulnerable. He dropped to his knees and I collapsed against his chest with a heavy sigh.
    “ She saved the day again, Bill!” I heard Whitney call from the lawn. “She may as well be my guardian angel at this point.”
    Bill only grunted as he approached Nomad and I. Then, seeing how we embraced, he grunted again. “Prospect.”
    Nomad released me and I sat back and looked up. “Bill.”
    “ That was a stupid move, kid.”
    “ Would you say that if I was a man, Bill?”
    He snorted. “If you were a man, they probably would have just shot you.” He shook his head. “You’ve got a few years of work as a Prospect ahead of you, but you’ve secured a load of votes tonight. I thought this would be a big joke. Hell, I thought it was funny. But now…” he gestured at my jacket. “Do you really want this?”
    I looked from him to Nomad and back again. “I do.”
    “ All right.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not in love with the idea, but you’ll be the first lady Devil in thirty years. Nomad and I will see to it.” Nomad squeezed my hand. “Take her home, old man. And do us a favor? Try not to make her your official old lady before she’s a full member?”
    Nomad chuckled. Further down the street, there was a huge whoosh. The two Eagle’s motorcycles went up in flames. The Devils cheered around the flaming vehicles. Even from our distance, the flames were hot on my face. I shielded my eyes as I watched.
    “ I’ll expect you both at the clubhouse for breakfast,” Bill said as he walked away to join the other men, “We’ll need to make sure everyone’s got their stories straight.”
    “ And I’ll want my gun back,” I said.
    He aimed a sarcastic little salute at me before turning away.
    A wave of exhaustion rolled over me. I buried my hands in Nomad’s white hair and pulled him close. “Take me home?”
    “ Of course, honey. I can’t let you sleep, though, I’m sorry. Not after you hit your head.”
    I watched the reflection of the flames dancing in his eyes. I kissed him, softly, feeling the heat of the fire echoing in my chest. His eyes were still closed when I sat back. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble keeping me awake.”
     
     

Thanks for reading!
    If you liked this story, continue turning the pages to check out another that you may enjoy as well…
     
    * * *
     
    Find all of Britten’s books:
    Official Site
     

 
     
    Bondage Beneath the Big Top
     
    Daisy is a dancer in Maxwell's Spectacular, a traveling carnival in the early 20th century. Arthur is the show's new strongman, and the most handsome one any of the other performers have ever seen. He's a quiet and mysterious man, but when Daisy feels a spark between them, she feels she has no choice but to explore it.
     
    Will the dangers of traveling carnival life come between them? Will her outspoken nature push him away, or will the storm of his desires bring her willingly to her knees?
     
    Warning: This 14,500 word short contains explicit language and graphic adult