Page 7 of The Savage Outlaw

Eden had no clue who shouted that, but it got every single biker to roar. The entire horde of outlaws worked their way down the hallway and around the corner. Just like that, Priest and his very impressive penis disappeared.

“That was a lot of testosterone at once to be near,” a coworker said to Eden.

Eden forced herself to laugh and then excused herself.

She trotted down the hallway in the opposite direction and ended up catching an elevator down to the main lobby. She wentthrough the cafeteria, promising herself something to eat on her way back, and went into a restroom to catch her breath and splash cold water on her face.

She leaned over the sink and did so, speaking some kind of quick meditation in her head. To get herself refocused for her job. When she stood up, she saw someone other than herself in the mirror and she screamed. A hand clamped over her mouth and a knife touched her throat.

“Don’t make me kill you this easily,” her ex said with a smile on his face.

Cody’s eyes were all messed up, telltale signs he was higher than a kite.

“You fucking ignored me and made me follow you to work,” he growled at Eden. “How far does this have to go before you realize you love me?”

Eden felt tears fill her eyes. She thought about trying to bite Cody’s hand. Maybe swing a foot and try to kick him in the balls. Normally he would just get a little crazy, then grab and choke her for a second or two. Threaten her with a knife. Once, a gun. But never anything too far.

“You are mine,” Cody whispered. “Always will be too. Think it over while you nap.”

At the wordnapCody broke away from Eden and in the same motion, grabbed the back of her head and smashed her face off the bathroom counter.

Eden didn’t even hear herself scream for the split second that it came out of her mouth before darkness swallowed her up.

Chapter Three

Face the Faceless

Priest did not like the idea of returning back home without a motorcycle. Riding shotgun in an all-black van, feeling four wheels on the ground—it just didn’t make sense and it certainly didn’t feel right.

He knew he wasn’t exactly medically ready to jump on a growling horse made of steel, gasoline, and pure outlaw adrenaline.

Virus turned into the lot and that’s when Priest started to smile just a little.

Up until then he thought about his motorcycle and the fact that his cock piercing was no longer a part of him. That cute-as-fuck nurse he exchanged a few words with had been the one that removed it from him during his arrival to the hospital. And he knew by the way her face turned red and the shock in her eyes that she hadn’t stopped thinking about his cock.

Yeah, it didn’t help matters that his fucking wife was back in town, snooping around, chasing problems. But all she wanted was Priest to die so she could collect some insurance money.Not to mention find herself in a delicate spot with the club, which had a rule for taking care of the spouse of a patched in member in the event of that member’s death.

Angelica was a big mistake. Tits, slit, a deceptive smile, and nothing more than a fucking stupid dare to get hitched, with the promise of anal sex afterwards.

Priest married her. She gave up her ass to him. All a fair exchange, but she refused to let the marriage end after that.

Priest took a deep breath and focused on the party waiting for him. A handmade sign hung up—WELCOME BACK FROM THE DEAD PRIEST!Priest leaned forward to get a better look.

“Virus,” he said. “Those marks on the sign…”

“Yup,” Virus said. “Tits. All thedeeceespainted their tits and pressed them against the sign. Just for you.”

There were tits everywhere. Not just thetit printson the welcome home sign, but everywhere Priest looked, women stood eager, ready to lift their shirts, showing off their chests to the outlaw who survived death.

Priest couldn’t get enough of it either. All those beautiful shapes and sizes. Small and perky. Deep pink nipples. Wide, rounded areolas on some, others with light, rose-pink nipples that were small buttons.

Tits everywhere.

The van came to a stop and the guys on their motorcycles all made a straight line. Cyrus stepped off his ride, stood in front of it and gestured for Priest to get out of the van. As he opened the door, the guys all began to throttle their engines. It then became a thundering roar of motorcycle engines, the air filling with the sweet smell of burning gasoline.

Priest stepped down from the van, adjusted his leather cut, and walked toward Cyrus. The two outlaws embraced in a hug. Cheers mixed with the throttling engines.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d be here again, brother,” Cyrus said to Priest. “I know we’re the bad guys, but we must be doing something right if it wasn’t your time.”

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