The Biker's Lucky Charm (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV Book 5) by Glenna Maynard (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📗

Danika struts toward me wearing nothing but a smile and a thong. “Can I get a hit off that?”  Big hair and even bigger tits. She’s a beauty. She’s also not my Old Lady.

“Have at it.” I hold the blunt out, and she drops her thick ass in my lap.

I pass her the joint and take another swig from my jar of moonshine. Danika hands me the doobie and goes for my drink. Next thing I know the bitch is stroking my beard and whispering in my ear. “Don’t tell your Old Lady on me for saying this, but I’ve always loved your beard.”

“That so.”

“I think it’s sexy as hell.” Her weed and liquor tainted breath fans over my lips.

“Sexy.” I snort. “She wants me to shave it off.” I wrap an arm around her to take another toke. Pam has been on my ass to shave off my beard for weeks. Saying she wants me to look presentable for the wedding. Like Murder or Alexa give a fuck about my beard. I love my wife but since she became a mom she’s changed. I’m not sure it it’s for the better is the problem.

“Don’t you dare.” Danika gives the end a tug. Her gaze meets mine and my vision blurs briefly.

I blink a few times and give my head a shake. Her lips touch mine and I freeze. Danika is staring at me with her tits pressed up against my leather cut one hand on my neck. I’d like to say I’m a better man. That this is where I push her way. But that’d make me a liar.

I like the attention. Lately I’ve not been getting much of it at home.

The party rages on around us. More ass and titties on display. Two girls make out on the stage doing everything they can in hopes of catching the eye of a patched brother. Sex is heavy in the air along with the scent of cigarettes and weed.

I could blame it on the liquor or the joint.

Human nature.

Primal need.

My anger at my wife.

Any of the reasons I can use to justify the act in my mind, but I know better. Even if I am wasted. A line is about to be crossed.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I met you,” Danika confesses.

“And now that you have?” I grin.

“I want to do a lot more.” Her teeth sink into her lip.

“Show me,” I challenge.

Danika slides down my body, dropping her knees to the floor. Licking her lips, she shoots me a wink then undoes the zipper of my jeans. Her fist wraps around me giving me a tug and a few strokes. I’ve never had trouble getting it up. The lips suctioning around the head of my dick may not be the ones I crave, but I dip my head back and get a grip on her hair giving into the temptation of being wanted. All Danika is right now is a warm hole to use. She could be anyone right now.

Doesn’t fucking matter. Sometimes a man just needs to feel wanted. Women aren’t the only ones who can be neglected in a relationship.

The cut chasing slut works my cock, and I imagine her mouth belongs to my woman. The only woman I truly desire. My wife. What can I say? I’m fucked in the head. I picture my gorgeous wife with her soft lips worshipping me. Paying me the attention I’ve been desperate to receive.

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. Attempting to block out reality. That the tongue gliding up and down the backside of my shaft belongs to a whore who will give it up to nay man with a patch on his back.

My stomach drops and the sensation of being watched pringles along my spine.

Something tells me to open my eyes and when I do all air goes out of my lungs.

My wife’s gaze locks on mine. Her words from earlier come back to me. “Fuck whoever you want.” I yank on Danika’s hair showing Pam I’m only following her orders.

A single tear slides down the woman I love’s cheek. Her face ashen as though she’s about to throw up. A quiver moves through her body. Her bottom lip trembles. She intakes a quick breath. Now she knows how I felt every time Nickle sunk his cock inside her while I watched and prayed for her miracle baby. Hoping another man could give her the one thing I’d never be able to.

Chapter Two

I stare at the clock on my cell phone. It’s past midnight. Another text—one word  from my husband flashes across the screen as another tear slides down my cheek that further shatters my heart.

Link: Sorry.

I stare at the screen as the minutes tick by unable to type a response. How am I supposed to reply after what he’s done? He broke his vows. Every promise—even the ones unspoken are null. Void. Meaningless. There’s a saying that the best apology is changing your behavior, but I can’t trust him.

Not right now.

Maybe never.

I don’t know that I want to.

Another text message.

Another lie.

Link: I love you.

Three words that slice into my soul.

Love.

He loves me?

You don’t do what he did to someone you love.

Link: I miss you.

Another lie.

Another mile between us. I swipe away another tear. My anger growing with every passing second. I want to hit something. Like his face. His balls. I want to hate him. To destroy him. To cut him bone deep as he has me. I’m broken. I don’t want to be so hurt, angry, and stupid. But I am all three.

I shoot off a reply.

Pam: Like you were missing me the other night when that whore was giving you a blowjob?

How easily he forgets that I saw them. I wish I could burn the memory from my thoughts, but I can’t. I’m not built that way. God do I wish I were. Things would be much easier. To look the other way. To