Page 178 of Beautifully Reckless

“Me, JD, Murf, Trunk and Stocky,” he answers quickly, not holding back any secrets.

“They all know what those arseholes did to me?”

“Yes, and they want their blood as much as I do,” he growls, anger flashing across his expression.

“How about Smitty? Does he know?”

Ringo shakes his head. “No. He’s given me free rein on this one, as long as I keep up with club business.”

Club business.

It’s hard for me to comprehend what they class as business.

“How is that going?” I’m not even sure if he’ll elaborate, but I’m curious, and want to know what he does with his time aside from hunting down my attackers.

“Good actually. Moving out of the city was a smart move. We do small daily runs in the Timber Valley area, coordinated with the Marx crew, although it’s not exactly sanctioned by Ewan Marx.”

I frown at his words, not entirely sure what all of that means. Ringo obviously notices, so with another chuckle and shifting me closer on his lap, he elaborates.

“Timber Valley is Griffin and Devon’s region, so they can do what they like, but I have a feeling if Ewan found out they wereletting us take a major slice of the trade in the area, he wouldn’t be too happy.”

“What trade?”

At my question, Ringo shakes his head.

“You don’t need to know.”

Frowning, I cross my arms over my chest.

“I have a right to know what my husband does for work,” I snap. “What trade?”

“Hmmm. I do like the sound of you calling me your husband.” He leans closer trying to nip at my lips, but I arch away.

“Don’t try and distract me with your sexy tongue, Cameron. What business are you trading in?”

A rumble sounds from the back of his throat, and his fingers dig into my thigh. Not painfully, but a warning. Still, he concedes.

“Drugs and guns, mostly. Some tobacco and vapes. Medical supplies sought after from this fucking pandemic.”

“What about the sex trade or trafficking? Do the Southern Sadists trade in that?”

“Fuck no, Angel. The only involvement in trafficking we have is killing the motherfuckers that run it.”

A smile kicks up my lips, Ringo’s words a reminder that while his club are outlaws, they are the better of the evils.

“Do you have any more questions, Angel?” He smirks back, and I nod.

“Just one.”

“And what’s that?”

“When are you going to give me orgasm number three?”

He throws his head back as a laugh rips from his chest, and a moment later, he has me straddling him.

“Saddle up, Angel. Let’s go for another ride.”

I giggle at his playful smile, but the second his lips find mine, I’m lost once again.

---