Razor

All I wanted was one taste, but one taste is all it took.

Razor

I finally found a home to call my own as a VP for the Reapers Rejects MC’s Mexican charter. It’s the first place I’ve spent an extended period of time at since I was in my early twenties.

But, I still get cabin fever. It’s why my Prez sends me out on runs to the States numerous times a year.

I usually make a pit stop at our Vegas charter, but this time I had business in LA. Where better to stay than one of the club’s allies—the Satan’s Raiders MC.

It was a surprise running into Oakleigh again, but it was even more surprising when I saw her dancing on a pole at a local strip club.

I should have gotten up and walked out, knowing damn well I shouldn’t have stayed. I debated it as she sashayed over to me and offered me a lap dance. I could have said no, but I didn’t, and that ‘yes’ started it all.

She was barely nineteen and the club would hang me if they knew.

Then again, the best fruit is always forbidden.