Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
As my eyes turn to a collection of whips bolted to the wall, Sam nods.
“Oh hell yeah, sometimes our sluts are begging for it,” the blonde man adds with a smirk, taking in the furniture with satisfaction. “They practically lash themselves to the bench, wiggling their asses at you in order to get a solid spanking. Or whipping. Or fucking,” he adds in a thoughtful tone. “They’ll take anything, they’re so hungry for it.”
I swallow thickly as my pupils dilate because while I’m polyamorous, I’ve never seriously been into the BDSM scene. I’ve dabbled on occasion, but it’s never been more than a couple heavy spanks to my behind or some playful titty-slapping. But this set-up means that the Cannon Biker Club will be pushing my boundaries, and the air grows tight in my chest.
“Nervous?” Sam growls throatily, his blue eyes gleaming in the light. “Or does it turn you on?”
I swallow again.
“Well, both,” I admit in a small voice. “I’m not experienced when it comes to this stuff, but I might like it. I think.”
Joe takes my elbow, gently leading me upstairs again.
“Every woman can learn to like it,” he says in a low hum. “It just takes the right partner, or partners, in your case.”
With that, we step back onto the main level and reenter the clubhouse room again.
“How did it go?” John growls, his blue eyes taking in my pink cheeks and elevated breathing. “Hopefully these assholes behaved like gentlemen.”
Sam grins cheekily.
“Hardly,” he says in a droll voice. “But I think it’s going to work out. Don’t you agree, Xenia?”
I nod, still trying to control my body’s arousal because goodness, what have I gotten myself into? Yet, I can’t wait for the real initiation to begin, and my curves are already humming with anticipation.
CHAPTER 3
John
The girl is gorgeous, hands down. I could hardly believe it when she approached me in a bar because Megan Fox-lookalikes don’t just appear out of thin air, and yet here she was.
“Hi, I’m Xenia,” she said in a murmur. “You’re John, right? Of the Cannon Club,” she added in a meaningful tone.
I swiveled around on the bar stool, assessing the woman with one quick head-to-toe look. Long, silky black hair, big breasts, a small waist, and beautifully pink, kissable lips. Hell yeah, she was my type. Hell, she’s every man’s type so what did she want with me? Of course, I’m a good-looking bastard, but women like this can get any man they want.
“Yeah, I’m John,” I grunted. “Why, what’s it to you?”
The beautiful girl wasn’t put off by my gruff manner. She merely nodded and swallowed, hesitating a bit. Then, she uttered words that made me go rock solid in a New York second.
“So this is a bit forward, but I think I might like to pull a train,” she murmured in a low voice, looking up at me through her lashes. “You’re the man to talk to about that, right?”
I already knew the answer because fuck, Xenia’s so beautiful that my brothers wouldn’t hesitate to fuck her holes silly morning, noon, and night. Hell, we could start immediately if she wanted, but instead, I decided to proceed with caution. After all, who the hell knows? Maybe this was a set up by some undercovers hoping to snag the Cannon Club using a honey pot.
“Well, that’s a nice offer, sweetheart, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Xenia’s cheeks colored pink and she stammered.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought,” she said in a rushed voice, already beginning to turn away. “Never mind. I’m sorry for bothering you.”
But before she could go, I placed one hand on her arm and pulled her back because hell, this woman is just too beautiful to pass over, UC or not.
“No, it’s fine,” I said in a low tone. “We like to be cautious, but there’s always room for a gorgeous girl like yourself. Call this number,” I said, scrawling a couple digits down on a napkin. “We’ll get the process rolling, and see what happens then.”
Xenia nodded, biting her bottom lip until it looked utterly bee-stung and kissable, and then shot me a smile before slinking away.
“Thanks John,” she murmured softly. “Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.”
She was right because within a week, Xenia was spread eagle on our pool table, nude and luscious as we stroked her everywhere. The police would never let one of their UCs go this far, so that theory was clearly debunked. Regardless, it was a magnificent experience, and the curvy girl was incredibly responsive as she came multiple times on our mouths and fingers over the course of the night. Needless to say, the vote was unanimous, and Xenia was immediately approved to begin the Cannon Biker Club’s formal initiation process.
But yeah, the initiation rites are a necessity because there are so many women who come knocking on our door, begging to become train honeys, that we need a screening process. My brothers and I couldn’t possibly service all the women who offer us their bodies, and as a result, we’ve learned to put the brakes on things just to assess who would truly make a good candidate, and who’s going to freak out when the going gets rough. After all, we’re motherfuckers who don’t fuck around, and our train honeys are used hard … and often.