Rude (King's Harlots MC Book 4)

  Clubs were being blown up. That was the information we always enjoyed hearing.

  While the rest of Vice-One did their own thing, I circled King’s Harlots clubhouse, making sure there was nothing out of the ordinary. But everything was fine. Kosher. Fucking perfect.

  My bones vibrated.

  When Brogan said she needed to hit something, I almost let it slip that I wanted her to hit me. I wasn’t a masochist by any means but I enjoyed a good fight. She was strong, a beast for her size and I knew she could take what I had to give her. But I didn’t give her anything, did I? I was a dick, an asshole, a sociopath. She deserved better, but fuck me if I didn’t want to spend at least one night with her.

  That new revelation shocked even me. I had never wanted to spend the night with a woman. It was always fuck them and leave them. Well, this was perfect timing. I grumbled to myself, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.

  Rumors floated around that she had a crush on me. A crush. Like we were in fucking high school. That tiny little thing in the club was distracting. She had been engrained in my skull since the first day I met her.

  Her dark eyes smoldered, burning into my skin and leaving a mark all their own.

  She was tiny but definitely not frail. Muscles adorned her small frame, revealing the fact she had worked out hard to get where she was.

  “I’m Brogan Tapp,” she told me, sticking out her hand.

  No response left me. The words couldn’t form on my tongue. Who was she and what the hell was she doing to me? Although I never liked talking, I could still form a proper sentence. Until then.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” she asked, pulling her hand back. “Or are you going to stand there like a moron?”

  My dick jumped at the insult. I wanted to talk to her but I wanted to see how angry I could get her as well. I wanted to see her fired up.

  “Well, then …” She turned to walk away. “Good talk.”

  I remembered back to that first meeting, the image of her tight little ass in those sexy as fuck leather shorts she had been wearing. The curve of her hips, hinting for my fingers to grab ahold of them.

  I muttered a curse and headed back into the club. There was nothing to see outside, and I really needed to hit something.

  The vast space, lined with booths and the bar at the back, were empty. My brothers were nowhere to be found. Even the rest of King’s Harlots had disappeared, doing their own thing, finding whatever vice it was to curb them of the evils of this world.

  Grunting pulled me from my thoughts, leading me to the back of the building. A door at the end of the long hallway was open, revealing Brogan dancing from foot to foot. Her fists flew against a large punching bag, her arms straining with muscles.

  My mouth watered. Well, that was new.

  Shaking the thoughts of what I wanted to do to her out of my head, I made my way into the room.

  Brogan never noticed my presence until I stood right in front of her. She raised an eyebrow but kept on hitting the bag.

  I always had issues talking to people. I found that spoken words only led to heartache and lies so I kept my thoughts to myself. But with Brogan, a sense of relief washed over me. She poked and teased but never demanded for me to talk. Not yet, at least. She would. They all did at some point in time. It was only a matter of when.

  “Are you going to stand there or help me?” Brogan asked between breaths, her chest rising and falling.

  Help you. But those two simple words never left my mouth. Holding the bag, I nodded once.

  A small smile spread on her lips before she geared up and started hitting the bag again.

  Ten minutes later, sweat coated her brow, drops of the no doubt tasty liquid sliding down between her breasts.

  Fuck this. I released the bag and took a step toward her. “Hit me.”

  A sparkle of interest shone in her eyes. “Really?”

  “A punching bag can only do so much,” I explained, moving closer to her. “Hit me.”

  Brogan shook out her arms and cracked her knuckles. “All right, Porter, I’ll do as you say.”

  The use of my last name sent a shiver down my spine.

  Oh, this would be fun.

  ***

  (Brogan)

  Coby demanded for me to hit him. Usually people shied away from that but he was a big guy, well over a foot and a half taller than me. He would be a challenge but I would enjoy forcing him to his knees.

  Holding up his hands, he waited. “Hit me.” The deep demand sent a course of heat warming through my body.

  Pulling my right arm back, I pushed it forward as hard as I could.

  Coby blocked it, swatting my hand away like a mosquito and repeated my movement.

  My eyes widened at the sudden movement, but before he could make contact with my face, I blocked him.

  Oh, he played dirty. I enjoyed the fact that he wasn’t afraid to hit me just because I was a woman. Call it fucked up, but when I sparred with a man, I wanted to be treated as an equal. Not the lesser sex.

  Coby took a step toward me, forcing me back, and continued to swing his hands in my direction.

  I blocked him, following his own movements.

  The sparring went on for another half an hour until we were both drenched in sweat and breathing heavy.

  My muscles burned, aching from the new workout they had been given.

  “Thank you,” I said, wiping my face with a towel.

  “You’re welcome.” Coby chugged back a bottle of water, sliding down the wall until he was seated on the blue mat beneath him. “I’ve never met a woman who wasn’t afraid to get hit.”

  My jaw tingled, remembering the punch it had taken only a couple minutes before. “I’ve never met a man who wasn’t afraid to hit a woman.”

  “It’s training. If you swing at me, no matter your sex, I’ll swing back,” he said matter-of fact.

  “Good.” I sat beside him, taking the bottle from his hand, and drank the rest of the water. I figured we could at least be friends. He already knew I had a tiny crush on him but I wasn’t one of those women who threw herself at a man. I asked him out. He said no. And that was that. But he wasn’t stupid. He caught me staring several times. But how could I not? He was Coby-Fucking-Porter. Dark shaggy hair that fell in his eyes. Long enough to grab a hold of but not so long he needed to put it up in a ponytail. And man buns? Gross.

  “How long have you been training for?” Coby asked, stretching his upper body over his legs.

  “I’ve always been active. I have four older brothers, so they taught me to fight. But I’ve been training hard for the past year.” My heart gave a start at how comfortable it was talking to Coby. It was like we had been friends for years even though we only knew each other for a couple of months. And even then, I didn’t really know him.

  “Good, that’s what brothers are supposed to do. Protect what’s theirs.”

  “Yeah, except they made it hard to date.” I laughed.

  “I can imagine. They can get kind of nosy.”

  Somehow, I knew he wasn’t just talking about my brothers. “How long have you been in Vice-One?”

  “Since the beginning. Five years or so.”

  “And the military?” I asked, turning my body to face him.

  “Long enough,” he muttered.

  “Do you like it?”

  His gaze met mine. “Yes.”

  I searched his face for any hint that he was lying, but who was I kidding? The guy could play poker. He was straight faced, his eyes showing no emotion, and he never looked away when he answered. “Well—” my palms became sweaty unexpectedly “—that’s good I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “You’re not talkative. You always look like you’re ready to kill someone and when you walked in on me interrogating that guy, you liked it.” Jay had asked me to question one of Charles’ bastards, and Coby showed up while I had a knife in the guy’s leg. I didn’t want to see the judgment in Coby’s eye
s but I remembered looking at him and seeing something I never thought I would see. Lust.

  “Do you always say what’s on your mind?” Coby crossed his arms under his chest.

  “Yes.” Maybe that was a bad thing.

  “I like that.”

  Or not. “Really? My brothers always give me shit for being so honest.”

  “No.” Coby shook his head. “It’s nice. There are too many two-faced people in this world. I like knowing up front if you can’t stand me.”

  I laughed. “Well, as quiet as you are …” I shrugged. “I like you.”

  “Oh, I know.” He winked.

  Oh, dear God. That small movement made my insides turn to mush. “Yeah, well, maybe my honesty has bitten me in the ass this time.”

  “Maybe.” Coby pushed to his feet, making his way to the door before looking down at me over his shoulder. His eyes burned into me, heating my skin as if they were touching me themselves. “Maybe not.”

  And whatever that meant I wouldn’t know, because he left the gym as soon as those words left his mouth.

  Maybe not.

  I was only fooling myself because the only thing that Coby wanted from me was friendship, and maybe he didn’t even want that.

  The way my body reacted to him, coming alive at the mere sound of his deep voice, proved that I couldn’t just be friends with him.

  Shit.

  “Oh, God. Yes. Harder. Please. Right there. Give it to me, big boy. Mmmm … you’re so huge. Fuck me.”

  The ceiling was a wonderful place to look at while I lay awake from the incessant fucking in the next room.

  Dale had brought home woman after woman, sometimes two or three a night. Something happened between him and Max. She got pregnant. He freaked out. The sounds in the room across from mine were proof enough that he had fallen off the deep end.

  I was an asshole, and I owned that title, but even I wouldn’t fuck random women like he had if I got someone pregnant. My stomach quivered.

  “Please, baby. God. Yes. Oh, Dave. Right—”

  “Dave!” Dale yelled, the screaming stopping suddenly.

  “Sorry,” the woman cried. “Dale. Please don’t stop.”

  “Fuck you, whore.” A door slammed shut followed by some mumbled voices.

  Shaking my head, I let out a heavy sigh and sat up. The time on my phone read six in the morning. Great. Another early day.

  Getting dressed, I had just slipped on my hoodie when the door opened.

  “You awake, man?”

  “I am,” I said, buttoning up my jeans.

  “I’m assuming you heard that shit?” Dale shoved a hand through his blonde messy hair.

  “Yeah.” As much as I didn’t like people being in my business, Dale needed to get his head out of his ass. “You need to stop doing this shit. It’s unhealthy.”

  Dale’s eyes widened for a split second before he scowled. “Right. And you’re going to approach that hot little thing that keeps you up at night?” He smirked when I didn’t respond. “I didn’t think so.”

  Fucker knew me well. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But I still wouldn’t talk about it with him or anyone for that matter.

  “Okay then.” Dale turned to walk away before yelling over his shoulder, “Tell that to the sounds I hear coming from your room at night.”

  Dick.

  Dale chuckled, the door closing behind him, swallowing his laughter.

  He was right. I did have a hot little thing on my mind that kept me up at night, but before I talked to anyone about it, I needed to approach her first. I just didn’t know how. Not that I was shy but it terrified me to share my darkness with anyone. Knowing once I had her it would never stop. The addiction would only grow until I couldn’t breathe, and it would destroy us both.

  Fuck.

  I rapped on Dale’s door. “I’m heading to the city. Do you need anything?”

  “A case of beer.” Dale pulled open the door. “Angel wanted to meet as well. Something about doing some renovations to make the club bigger.”

  I nodded. “I won’t be long.”

  “Take all the time you need and maybe get laid while you’re at it too.”

  “Ass,” I mumbled.

  “I heard that,” he yelled, slamming his door shut.

  I chuckled to myself and made my way out of the apartment building.

  My thoughts traveled back to only a couple of days ago. Sparring with Brogan seemed almost normal, like we had been doing it for years. I could predict her moves; she could predict mine. No anticipation. It would have bothered me under different circumstances. Anticipation was key. Knowing what to expect next was boring.

  A ding sounded from my phone, interrupting my impending dirty thoughts.

  Brogan: What are you doing today?

  Me: Depends.

  Brogan: On what?

  Me: If you’re asking me to do something or not.

  Brogan: I want to spar with you again.

  And I want fuck you.

  But that had to wait until I knew she was ready.

  Me: I’ll be there tonight.

  Brogan: Thank you.

  Anything for you, little one.

  I was so screwed.

  ***

  (Brogan)

  It had been a couple of hours since my text chat with Coby. I didn’t even want to text him in the first place, expecting him to give me short answers but it was like having a full conversation with him instead. It was nice. Nice. God, I was such a girl.

  All my life, a guy had never made me feel this way. I wasn’t shy, but I also never approached them and asked them out. I had asked Coby-Fucking-Porter out on a date. Who was I, and where was Brogan Tapp?

  I sighed, shoving the ear buds in my ears. Turning on the music from my phone as loud as I could handle it, I stretched.

  Leaving my room, I walked past Max and Creena at the bar and gave them a wave.

  They waved back and continued talking amongst themselves.

  Once I left the club, the setting sun cast an eerie glow around the old buildings on the main street. The crisp air flowed around me, sending a shiver down my spine.

  My body vibrated.

  I enjoyed running. I craved it. I needed it.

  Turning the music on as high as I could handle it, I shut off everything and just moved. The music motivated me. It drowned out everything around me.

  Pounding my feet into the pavement, I jogged at a slow pace until the muscles in my legs jumped and twitched with the movements.

  Coby and I had a sparring session later that evening. I found myself wanting to touch him, to fight him. For him to throw me on the mat and fuck me senseless.

  That not so unexpected thought caused me to stumble in my run. A laugh escaped me. Get it together, Brogan. He was just a man. Nothing more. But God, was he ever a man.

  After getting a couple miles in, I ended up in a part of town that was known as the shady part. Greeneville, Ohio may have been small, but we definitely had parts where locals stayed away from.

  I knew I should have been paying more attention but a certain darkness clouded my judgement. Coby made it impossible to focus on anything.

  A cool draft washed over me, making me lose my breath. I picked up speed, not liking this sense of urgency that had suddenly overcome me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, something moved in the shadows of the alley. It was like your typical scary movie. Stupid girl goes for a run at the wrong time of day. No one was around to hear her scream. And the killer got the satisfaction of not getting caught.

  I was the stupid girl when I saw the shadow form into a large man. He creeped out of the shadows, followed by two more men coming up behind him.

  My heart gave a start, my legs slowing to a complete stop. I could run away but even I wasn’t that fast.

  Attempting to run by them, I acted casually, pretending I didn’t see them when the first man stepped in my path. Shit.

  His mouth moved but with th
e music blasting in my ears, all I could hear was the incessant noise and the beating of my heart.

  Slowly pulling the buds from my ears, I took several deep breaths. I lived for this. Excitement. Anticipation. I was a fighter. But I couldn’t take on three men by myself.

  “What are you doing out by yourself at this time, pretty girl?” the first man asked, his gravelly voice grating on my nerves.

  And because of people like this, it was hard for women to run peacefully without having creepers bothering them.

  “Is there a rule that says I shouldn’t be out at this time?” I asked, staring the fucker head on, and crossed my arms under my chest.

  “It’s not safe.” He took a step toward me. “There are a lot of dangerous people in this world.”

  Yeah, and one of them was standing in front of me. Guys like him usually reacted first instead of thinking things through.

  “I run all of the time, and I’ve never run into any problems.”

  “Until now,” the man sneered, rubbing the dark scruff on his jaw.

  I bit back an eye roll. “Are you telling me that you are going to be my problem?”

  “Maybe.” He looked at the men behind him. “It depends on if you cooperate or not.”

  “Please. Like I haven’t heard that before. What do you guys want? Money? Sex? For me to beg you to leave me alone?” I rolled my eyes that time, clucking my tongue. “Sorry, gentlemen. I don’t scare easy.” I ate men like them for dinner.

  “Aww, too bad,” the taller of the men said. “I love making a woman scream. But I love even more when they beg for their life.”

  At that point, I laughed. It was all I could do not to turn around and walk away. These guys weren’t serious, were they?

  “What the hell is so funny?” The same man narrowed his eyes, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.

  “You’re a walking cliché. How can I not laugh? If you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a shit job.” As soon as those words left my mouth, I regretted them instantly.

  Rough hands grabbed me from behind, pinning me against a hard body.