Stone Cold: An MC Erotic Romance by Kristin Fletcher Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kristin Fletcher
politely with Cesario.
Both of them talked together, as if Raul wasn't lying on the floor. They didn't even check to see if he was alive. They just ignored him, and her. Chad didn't even ask if she was alright. He didn't hug her or even rub her leg. He just went right back to talking with Cesario.
Victoria once believed that her mother was cold, and unfeeling. Her mother never offered Victoria warmth, or a loving embrace. In fact, Victoria couldn't recall the last time her mother touched her on purpose. Victoria now had a new definition for the idea of a person being cold. Her mother was an armature.
The meeting sounded polite, and civilized. Everyone talked with respect and manners to each other. There were smiles and agreeable nods of the head. Cesario offered to show her his house, and spoke to her very warmly. But none of that was real. It was just surface stuff.
Cesario, she realized, was ready to kill them all. Large amounts of drugs were taken and someone had to pay for the loss. Cesario was going to kill them, and kill her simply because she was there.
Mike knew this danger when he called Chad to Juarez, she reasoned. Mike knew that Chad was riding into a meeting that really had nothing to do with him, and would possibly get him killed. She thought Mike liked Chad, but you didn't do that to someone you liked, did you? He didn't even warn Chad, or tell him anything that was going on.
Victoria's head spun with all of these thoughts, and they twisted inside of her, becoming uglier with each turn. At the center of this storm, however, was the question she shied away from, the question which was ripping her heart apart, Was this the real Chad?
She couldn't face that question, and her fear of it trembled her body as they rode across the border, back into the United States. She was no less afraid of that question when Chad waved to the others, and took an off-ramp 50 miles down the freeway. She was still visibly shaking with her terror of that question when he brought her inside of the hotel room and told her to get undressed, urging her to get into the shower. When she didn't respond right away, he helped her with her clothes, and rubbed her with soothing hands as he led her into the streams and steam of a hot shower.
He cared about her, didn't he? Didn't he see her as human? As someone worth living? But then she thought about how the club treated the women, the ones called club bitches. They had names, but only for convenience. They were tits with legs and a pussy to fuck. No one took care of them really. They were just passed around like objects no one really wanted, but used from time to time. Chad had used Kathy before. She knew this. He even admitted it.
She stood in the shower, her thighs quaking with these horrible questions which threatened to lead her to terrifying answers.
If Chad was like the other men down in Mexico, like Cesario and Mike, could his caring about her be real? Or did his rubbing and soothing of her mean nothing.
Chad came into the shower and pulled her out. She didn't know how long she was in there, but apparently it was long enough for him to come get her. She shivered with cold and trepidation while he toweled her off.
After she was dry, he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her cradled to the bed. He got into the bed with her, his back to the headboard, and held her cradled in his arms. She snuggled against him pressing into his warmth, begging him silently to tell her that she was real to him. That she was not just a piece of ass. She meant something to him.
It felt like only minutes, but the room was dark when he turned on the lights, bringing her out of her mired thoughts. She blinked at the light as it glared into her darkened eyes. Her hands were sore from gripping his leather vest with her fists. Her body was warm though and he continued to rub her back and ass.
"Chad?" she asked quietly, as if they were inside
Both of them talked together, as if Raul wasn't lying on the floor. They didn't even check to see if he was alive. They just ignored him, and her. Chad didn't even ask if she was alright. He didn't hug her or even rub her leg. He just went right back to talking with Cesario.
Victoria once believed that her mother was cold, and unfeeling. Her mother never offered Victoria warmth, or a loving embrace. In fact, Victoria couldn't recall the last time her mother touched her on purpose. Victoria now had a new definition for the idea of a person being cold. Her mother was an armature.
The meeting sounded polite, and civilized. Everyone talked with respect and manners to each other. There were smiles and agreeable nods of the head. Cesario offered to show her his house, and spoke to her very warmly. But none of that was real. It was just surface stuff.
Cesario, she realized, was ready to kill them all. Large amounts of drugs were taken and someone had to pay for the loss. Cesario was going to kill them, and kill her simply because she was there.
Mike knew this danger when he called Chad to Juarez, she reasoned. Mike knew that Chad was riding into a meeting that really had nothing to do with him, and would possibly get him killed. She thought Mike liked Chad, but you didn't do that to someone you liked, did you? He didn't even warn Chad, or tell him anything that was going on.
Victoria's head spun with all of these thoughts, and they twisted inside of her, becoming uglier with each turn. At the center of this storm, however, was the question she shied away from, the question which was ripping her heart apart, Was this the real Chad?
She couldn't face that question, and her fear of it trembled her body as they rode across the border, back into the United States. She was no less afraid of that question when Chad waved to the others, and took an off-ramp 50 miles down the freeway. She was still visibly shaking with her terror of that question when he brought her inside of the hotel room and told her to get undressed, urging her to get into the shower. When she didn't respond right away, he helped her with her clothes, and rubbed her with soothing hands as he led her into the streams and steam of a hot shower.
He cared about her, didn't he? Didn't he see her as human? As someone worth living? But then she thought about how the club treated the women, the ones called club bitches. They had names, but only for convenience. They were tits with legs and a pussy to fuck. No one took care of them really. They were just passed around like objects no one really wanted, but used from time to time. Chad had used Kathy before. She knew this. He even admitted it.
She stood in the shower, her thighs quaking with these horrible questions which threatened to lead her to terrifying answers.
If Chad was like the other men down in Mexico, like Cesario and Mike, could his caring about her be real? Or did his rubbing and soothing of her mean nothing.
Chad came into the shower and pulled her out. She didn't know how long she was in there, but apparently it was long enough for him to come get her. She shivered with cold and trepidation while he toweled her off.
After she was dry, he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her cradled to the bed. He got into the bed with her, his back to the headboard, and held her cradled in his arms. She snuggled against him pressing into his warmth, begging him silently to tell her that she was real to him. That she was not just a piece of ass. She meant something to him.
It felt like only minutes, but the room was dark when he turned on the lights, bringing her out of her mired thoughts. She blinked at the light as it glared into her darkened eyes. Her hands were sore from gripping his leather vest with her fists. Her body was warm though and he continued to rub her back and ass.
"Chad?" she asked quietly, as if they were inside
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