Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2) by B.B. Blaque (interesting books to read for teens txt) š
- Author: B.B. Blaque
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It was no secret that Iād been a pubic hair away from becominā a priest. I mean, I was a long way from slippinā into a collar, but in the scheme of things, I was a hang-around who was thinkinā long and hard about becominā a full priestly patch. Clearly, that wasnāt my callinā.
Giovanni was dead. Crucifix was alive and had everything he wantedāexcept her.
Then came the day when Fi saw me out on the street. We recognized the grown-up versions of each other immediately. She was wearinā a habit and I was a proud member of the Rotten Apple chapter, wearinā my rag, covered in tattoos, slidinā onto my bike. We tried to ignore what we saw, but it was too late. When she came over and started in about whatād happened, I flew off the handle and everything came spewing out.
A brand new kinda Hell began with that one glance. I was gonna have her, die tryinā, or lose my fuckinā mind from lovinā her.
1
New York Groove
Years later . . .
It was great to be back in the City after all that time in La-La Land. Too many palm trees and not enough hustle could make a New Yorker lose his fuckinā mind. I had to be sparing with that shit ācause there wasnāt a whole lot left.
Royal Bastards Video was rockinā and FOCUS and Nixx were gettinā all their bullshit worked out. I was just glad to be back in my own territory. Blayze and them guys had been really cool about us beinā out there and knew we werenāt tryinā to step on their dicks, but stillāit wasnāt the Big Rotten Apple. It wasnāt the Mounds Bar with our tits and asses shakinā under the black lights. As I pulled up in front, it looked like I had a welcome home party goinā on. All the guysā bikes were parked in front and Rattler was bouncinā since FOCUS was still on the left coast. I barely made it off the bike before he and Froot Loops ran over to hug me.
āBrother, man! Itās been too fuckinā long!ā Rattler smacked at my back. āDo you even remember what real food tastes like after beinā out there? I know there aināt nothinā good in Hollywood.ā
It was the Godās honest. Thereās no food like New York City food, no matter what the fuck ya say. Iād been dyinā for a bagel loaded with scallion cream cheese, bacon, and egg. I woulda gladly settled for some stupid dirty water dogs from the vendor on our corner. Los Angeles had some good shit happeninā, but food wasnāt on the list.
āYouāre tellinā me! Iām surprised I havenāt wasted the fuck away to nothinā! A man cannot survive on pussy alone, and I donāt give a fuck who tries to say different.ā
I slapped hands with Froot Loops and headed toward the door. I needed to eat, get my dick sucked, and have someone without too much glitter tuck me in with a nightcap. Jet lag was gonna be a bitch.
āHey, can one of ya get Cassie to order me a calzone and a stuffed spinach slice from Tonyās around the corner? Rattler . . . you do it, broā, since youāre the one who brought up food!ā
āFuck you, man! Tell her yourself!ā
I glared back at Rattler. Heād been doinā my job and FOCUSā when we were out west, but he needed to remember his place.
āYo, donāt forget yourself, motherfucker! I was gone. I didnāt die. So unless you know somethinā I donāt, Iām still the president and you didnāt magically step into my boots. Get on it, VP. Iāll be in the office.ā
Heād get over it. Rattler always thinks way too much of himself, and that can be an issue sometimes. I was back and still wore the presidentās patch. He wasnāt gonna step into my spot or FOCUSā as sergeant at arms. He was lucky we didnāt kick him off the board entirely. The shit with him dealinā to his girls and all that fucked-up Vicious mess had him skatinā on thin ice.
A few of the chicks ran up to hug me and Rock Candy brought over a bottle of somethinā and two glasses. Looks like sheās the one tendinā to me tonight.
Even gettinā back to the same olā pussy was good. New York chicks arenāt plasticāexcept for some noses and tits. They know what I like and are more than happy to give it to me, even if it is sorta kinky. If one of our girls wouldnāt get into my shit, sheād always be a tiny infraction away from gettinā the boot. I didnāt need a different bitch every night. I just needed to know if I said kneel, theyād drop like a lead weight. Patience was somethinā I didnāt have a lot of when I was horny, and if I picked someone, they needed to be ready.
Rock Candy knew how it worked and called back on her way to the dressinā room, āIāve been very sinful while you were gone, Crucifix . . . . I need to confess somethinā really awful.ā
She giggled and pushed through the door to Transformation Stationāthe girlsā dressinā room.
Fuck, I donāt need all that shit tonight. Suck my dick and lemme get some sleep.
As soon as she walked out with the nun costume, I grabbed her arm. āSorry, kid. Not tonight. I
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