Rough riding, p.1
Rough Riding, page 1
Rough Riding (Baby breeder Session 2 Series) by Ember Davis
Copyright © 2024 Ember Davis
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, organizations or locals is entirely coincidental. The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
For permission requests, email Ember.A.Davis@gmail.com
Contains explicit love scenes and adult language. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older.
Cover Design: Bookin’ It Designs
This book is available exclusively at Amazon.com. If you’ve obtained it anywhere else, you have an illegal copy.
For those who love a broken hero and the woman who can give him a new purpose.
Table of Contents
TRIGGER WARNING
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
EPILOGUE
BABY BREEDER SESSION 2 SERIES
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER BOOKS BY EMBER
TRIGGER WARNING
This story has dark themes and a morally gray motorcycle club hero. You’ll still find an insta-love story that is spicy and isn’t necessarily simple, but with darker themes, situations, and depictions of violence (not between the MMC and MFC). There is also talk about human trafficking and sexual assualt (not of the MFC and not on page). The DSMC is not a one percenter club, but these guys don’t always operate within the law either and have links to crime families.
There is no cheating with a guaranteed HEA, however, if you don’t like darker themes, then this book may not be for you.
CHAPTER 1
MONK
The laughter from the old ladies sitting at one of the tables in the main room of the clubhouse almost brings a smile to my face. I do feel a sliver of joy in my heart, but I don’t smile. Not anymore. Whenever I almost smile, I get a flash of memory and it is always Sofia smiling at me.
My sister had the most beautiful smile. And I’ll never see it again.
How can I smile in a world where she doesn’t exist? The pain she went through, the darkness I lost her in, the way I failed her—it has left me shattered.
Smiling isn’t the only thing I can’t seem to force myself to indulge in since Sofia’s death.
I haven’t touched a woman in the last ten years. I just…can’t do it. I wasn’t there for Sofia when she was abducted. I sure as fuck wasn’t there when she was being brutalized by the traffickers who were eager to sell her and have her disappear.
If it weren’t for the Devil’s Saints MC, I doubt I would have been able to find her. Ever. Let alone as fast as we did.
It still wasn’t fast enough.
All the light was gone from her eyes as she looked up at me when she was rescued. It was like she was already gone. She gave up her soul so it wouldn’t be tormented along with her body. I didn’t need her to tell me what she endured; I could see it in the depths of her eyes.
Those eyes still haunt me. I can’t even think about touching a woman let alone indulge in sex.
I know it’s a mental thing, but it’s not like I’ve met a woman worth trying to push past it. I don’t need to be like my brothers and fuck a club angel just for the sake of it. It’s not a performance issue, at all, I’m very acquainted with my hand. I’m not without desire, just the need to find pleasure with a woman.
Maybe I’m just punishing myself because we were too late when we found Sofia. Far too fucking late.
I failed her.
She couldn’t stand the memories, the trauma, the constant reliving of it all. She just couldn’t fight the demons they unleashed from within her. I miss her with everything in me, but I also understand why she chose to end her life.
Ten years of missing her is nothing compared to her nightmares.
Movement to my right pulls my attention toward one of the club angels, Tiff, as she approaches the bar while giving me a wide berth. I almost snort because when she first came to the club, she tried to climb me like a fucking tree. I shut her down hard and without remorse.
It’s something I’ve had to do with all the angels, and I’ve gotten harsher over the years. I know it’s not their fault that I am the way I am, but, fuck, you’d think they’d warn each other about me. Or maybe there is no honor amongst them.
One skill I’ve honed over the years is observing my surroundings, not only to ensure everyone’s safety, but because I’m fascinated by human nature. The way we push and pull at each other. The way we can bring such joy…and such devastation. Even to those we say we love. Even to those we say we desire.
I’ve watched the angels over the years, and they’ve done some catty shit. Our chapter in New Orleans has learned it the hard way. With more of my brothers finding their old ladies, we’ve learned it here as well.
The angels think they have some claim on a brother if he’s fucked them. It’s all in their heads and the likelihood of an angel ever being draped in a property cut is slim. Though, it’s my understanding it happened in New Orleans. That situation is unique as fuck and not the norm.
But it just goes to show you—nothing is outside of the realm of possibility.
As long as none of the angels here try to get on my dick or fuck up a brother’s future, I’m good.
The laughter from the table of old ladies has me glancing their way. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Tiff curling her lip before she grabs her drink and saunters back to where a few of the single brothers are playing a game of pool.
Shit is changing around here. I’m glad about it. My brothers have needed anchors and they’re starting to find them with their women.
It does remind me just how adrift I am. Lost. Still writhing in the agony of the past.
Robyn, the newest old lady to join us here at the DSMC since Friar claimed her and brought her here from where she was hiding out in Tennessee, gets up from the table with a big smile on her face. She hasn’t been here long, barely even a week, but she’s thriving already.
When I met her for the first time, I recognized the pain in her eyes. It mirrors my own.
Her need for vengeance made her into the woman she is today and led her down the path which brought her here. Her friend was abducted, but never found. She didn’t have the DSMC at her back the way I did when my sister was taken.
Robyn honed her skills and became a hacker who targeted traffickers, and those who hid them and helped them. That’s how she popped up on Friar’s radar. She thought the DSMC was aligned with scum like that. Little did she know that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
She stole from the club and had Friar, our IT guy, and Clutch, the club’s Secretary, all out of sorts. It all worked out in the end and now we have one more person motivated in our cause who has the skill to help us if we need it.
I almost wish I had been with Friar and the other brothers who went to Tennessee to find the hacker. I bet his face was fucking priceless when he figured out Robyn was behind the theft from the club. He wasted no fucking time in showing her the error of her ways, I’m sure, but not in the way he expected when he set out to find the culprit.
It’s clear how much my brother adores his woman. All the ones lucky enough to find old ladies cherish them.
I won’t ever find that.
Not because I don’t crave what my brothers have. I do, but I also know how quickly love and a feeling of home can be ripped away from you. My sister was the only family I had left. She was shattered to the point where she was more like sand. When lightning struck, she turned into glass to be shattered all over again.
“Hi Monk,” Robyn’s soft voice pulls me out of the darkness of my mind.
It’s a place I live constantly. The only bright spots are the club, the retribution it allows me to seek, and my art. As a kid who grew up in some of the worst neighborhoods in the city, being into art wasn’t exactly a good thing. That’s why I’m grateful as fuck I found tattooing.
“Robyn,” I rumble. “Looks like you ladies are having a good time.”
I might make sure the angels know to stay far away from me, but the old ladies of the club have a soft spot in my heart. Not only do they give my brothers happiness, but they’ve accepted all of us as family. Including me, with as broken and closed off as I am.
Robyn flashes me a grin. “We are.”
I don’t pay attention to the order she places with Chris, the prospect behind the bar. He’ll be joining our ranks as a patched member soon. We just voted on it in Church.
When Robyn’s done, she looks at me and the pain we share, the one we know deep in our souls is right there at the surface. I’ll do anything to ignore the feeling for just a few more minutes. Even make small talk.
“How has it been settling in here? You haven’t had any issues, right?”
Robyn glances over at where the club angels are flirting with the single brothers and shakes her head. “No. No issues really. It’s just,” she sighs and looks back at me, giving me a small smile, “a big adjustment, you know?”
I smirk and nod my head slowly. I’m sure being here, surrounded by people she doesn’t know while her past is out in the open, is a big change. She’s spent years running from one place to another while carrying out her brand of justice. From what Friar told us, she never allowed herself to settle in one place for long.
At least until she went to Mistletoe Creek, Tennessee. She stayed there the longest. Maybe that’s why she ended up being just sloppy enough for Friar to finally find her after searching for any sign of the hackers’ whereabouts for months.
Maybe part of her wanted to be caught.
I know there’s a small piece of me who wishes my demons would catch up to me. To put me out of my misery. To make the pain stop.
But then I wouldn’t have this, and my club gives me purpose. Even the curvy woman in front of me, who is loved fiercely by my brother gives me a purpose. I protect them and try to save as many other women as I can from the trauma Sofia was forced to endure and ended up succumbing to.
“I’m sure it is, but you are family, Robyn,” I rumble and a smile lights up her face.
A pang of yearning, of loneliness strikes my heart, but I push it aside. I gave up on having a woman in my life a long time ago. I shouldn’t be trusted with such a gift. Not when I couldn’t keep my own blood safe. Not when I failed so fucking epically.
When Chris sets a pitcher of margaritas on the top of the bar, I pick it up and gesture toward the table where the other old ladies are laughing. Robyn pouts slightly and huffs, “I can carry it.”
“No need,” I grunt.
I don’t know what she reads on my face, but she simply nods and starts to head back to the women. I might not be able to show these women how much I care about them and value them in the same way my brothers can—with smiles and warm words—but I can do this.
“We have to throw her a going away party,” Evelyn’s voice greets me as Robyn takes her seat. “I’m going to miss her,” her voice holds a note of sadness.
When I put the pitcher down in the middle of the table, she looks up at me and smiles shyly. Evelyn is a conundrum in many ways. She is fierce with Penance, her old man, but with most of the rest of the brothers it’s as if she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t know what she thinks is going to happen, but I have no doubt she’s expecting harsh words or derision.
After Penance pulled his head out of his ass and claimed the woman that he’s been in love with for longer than he’s been with the club, he told us their story. If I had known him back then, I would have kicked his ass. But, then again, sometimes we’re stupid in our youth.
When Evelyn, who is Penance’s former stepsister and target of his bullying, left Seattle the day after their high school graduation, everything changed for him. That’s also when he found the DSMC. Well, really, I suppose we found him.
He was underage in a bar trying to drown his sorrows, one Bronco and I walked into. Penance was itching for a fight, but it was obvious he was just fucking lost. Since then, we gave him a purpose while he tried to balance the scales against his past wrongs.
Now, he’s found because he finally has Evelyn in his life.
I give Evelyn a chin lift, knowing she’s talking about a going away party for Lennon, who is an angel, but not, at the same time. She’s more of a den mother than an angel and travels around to different chapters to help where she can. That’s not to say she doesn’t have some fun with a brother when she wants, but it’s different from the other angels.
She’s become family in a way most of the angels will never be. She’s moving to Phoenix soon, no longer able to resist the demands of her mother. I know she’s not looking forward to it, and I hope she knows she always has a home here.
“We can put that together,” McKenzie, Bronco’s old lady, pipes up.
“There’s another celebration we need to put together as well,” I keep my voice low.
The women around the table look at me for a moment and when I give a slight tug to my cut, understanding lights up the faces of Evelyn and McKenzie. Robyn still looks confused, but I know the women will fill her in.
“Monk,” I turn toward Spark, DSCM’s Prez, when he calls out my name and give him a chin lift.
“Ladies,” I look at the table their men are occupying not far away, their eyes glued on their women possessively, “don’t drink too much and end up giving my brothers a hard time.”
McKenzie giggles and shakes her head, mischief dancing in her eyes. “We would never, Monk,” she promises, faux innocence lining her words.
A small smile tugs at the edges of my lips but I squash it as I shake my head and make my way toward my Prez. Spark is a good man, one I’m proud to follow. Not only did he help me find Sofia, even if it was too late, but he gave me an outlet for the violence always simmering under the surface.
He gives me a chin lift when I’m close enough and I know it’s the only greeting required between us. I’ve been one of his enforcers for years and we trust each other with our lives.
“I need you to go and pick something up tomorrow. Normally Crucify or Rites would go, but Rites has a meeting,” he starts to explain.
“And Crucify is in Wyoming,” I finish, and he nods.
Rites is our VP and Crucify is an enforcer, like me, one who went down to Mistletoe Creek with Friar to find the hacker. While he was out of town, Crucify’s sister, Lake, decided she needed a new life and went off to Wyoming to be a mail order bride. To say the man was pissed and hurt is an understatement.
Crucify was barely home for a few days before he headed out to Wyoming to be there at Lake’s side when she gets married. Well, at least it’s what we’re hoping he’s doing and not trying to bury the body of the man she’s marrying. In Wyoming…in the winter.
“You got it, Prez.”
I owe this man and the club my life. If he needs me to run an errand, then that’s what I’ll do. I live and breathe for the DSMC. It’s who I am, and it gives me purpose.
I don’t need anything or anyone else.
CHAPTER 2
REBEL
I look at my best friend and smile as she pushes her glasses up her nose. While she might be at home inside of her bakery, she looks like she belongs in a library. She just gives that vibe, and then there are her reading habits which make her like a nerdy wet dream.
When a man finally looks past her shyness and her timid nature, to really look when she comes alive, it’ll be a show for sure. I can’t wait. She deserves to be worshiped.
I sigh because I deserve the same, but I haven’t clicked with someone in a long fucking time. If I wanted to be honest with myself—and where is the fun in that—I’ve never really clicked with a guy the way I yearn to.
Everything in me desires a soul deep connection, a love that stands the test of time. I want something unshakeable. If I didn’t know it exists, I’m not sure if I would believe in it anymore.
My parents have that kind of love and so I know it’s possible, but I’m not sure how probable it is anymore. I’m sure some would blame the internet. Or the change of gender dynamics. Or that people are just lazy.
I don’t want to blame anything for the lack of love in my life, and how people seem perfectly content to hurt each other instead of holding someone close. I just want to experience it. I won’t be satisfied until I do.
That’s why I stopped trying to capture lightning a few years ago and decided to focus on me and my business. I’ve thrived in many ways because of it. I’ve maintained my friendships with two women who mean the world to me, even if we don’t get to see Sparrow as much as we used to, and I’ve built something I’m damn proud of in my business.
Who knew being a seamstress could be lucrative?
If I were a little more hoity-toity then I would call myself a designer, but I’m not like that. I do love designing original creations and have made a good name for myself in Seattle, but I don’t just design. The bread and butter of my business is sewing things my clients need with very little going into the design process.
