Free Death Lords Motorcycle Club: Annie, Michigan, and Easy (The Motorcycle Clubs Series) by Ella Goode Page A

pretty heavily. She works as the church secretary and lives in the house. She hasn’t said that he’d kick her out, but I think it’s fair to say that's a reasonable outcome,” Easy says.
    “How long’s she been church secretary?” Judge asks. His question surprises me.
    “Since she was eighteen, I gather,” Easy answers.
    Judge nods silently and then turns to me. “What’s your damage, brother? Annie just a temporary sweet butt?”
    I rise up, fists clenched. “Fuck no. Don’t call her that.”
    At my outburst, he merely raises his eyebrows while Easy reaches over the bar top and draws me back. It takes me a couple deep breaths to calm down.
    “Sorry,” I mumble and drop back onto my stool.
    “How long you been patched in?” Judge asks. It’s a not a real question because Judge knows exactly how long I’ve been a member, same as he knows when we got our tattoos of the flaming skulls, how many bones are buried at the quarry and probably the last time all of us got laid.
    “Five years and you tapped me as enforcer two years ago.”
    He nods. “That’s right. You’re a loyal brother. You’ve done the wet work, bled for the club, so helping you get a little cover for your woman is pretty low on the totem of the things that the club will do for you.” Judge drains the remainder of his beer and then stands, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “The Death Lords are your family. It’s not weakness or using to lean on your family from time to time. Text me what you want Pippa to do.”
    Easy waits for Judge to leave before leaning across the counter. “When are you going to start trusting me?”
    “What the fuck are you talking about?” I scowl. “’Course I trust you.”
    “Really? Because you don’t act like it.” He straightens to his full six-foot four-inch frame and folds his arms. His face is hard and I know from past experience that he’s pissed. “If you trusted me, you would be working together with me instead of fighting me every step of the way. Is it that you don’t want Annie?”
    “No,” I shout and then, gathering myself, I repeat it, but this time quietly. “No.”
    Easy’s asking for something from me that I’ve never fully given him. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but he’s asking me to lay myself bare for him and Annie. My options are simple. Either buy in or step away. I give up Annie and I probably give up Easy too. Not that he’d push me aside but seeing them together and knowing I could be part of that would eat me up inside until I would need to climb onto my bike and ride away. The answer is well, easy. “I’m in.”
    “All the way?” He looks suspicious and it cracks me up.
    “All the way.”
    All the way means that by the end of the work day, Annie appears on our doorstep like we rubbed her out of the genie bottle.
    Easy opens the door and pulls her inside. Next to the curb, Pippa in her death box of a tiny car waves and speeds off.
    “What’s the story?” I bark out a little harsher than I mean to.
    She smiles tentatively and says, “I’m going to a library get together in Minneapolis until Thursday.”
    A big grin breaks out over Easy’s face. “Two days with us, huh? That’s nice. Real nice. Now to the important stuff. You wearing it?”
    She nods.
    “Show us.”
    I want to object that we should feed her first or watch a fucking movie but Annie turns around, gathers up her ugly navy skirt and bends over. Underneath ain’t ugly at all because under the skirt is all Annie. She’s gone commando, either all day or just for our benefit.
    “If I knew you weren’t wearing panties under those skirts, Little Red, you’d be bent over the stacks with me pounding inside you.” Easy’s voice is rough with his lust.
    I nod in agreement, suddenly a fan of big shapeless pieces of fabric. No one but Easy and I know what’s underneath. Her ass is small but juicy and the purple base of the plug is a bright contrast to her pale skin.
    “Lean forward