Bed of Roses (Devil Savages MC) Read online

  Bed of Roses

  Devil Savages MC [1]

  Harley McRide

  * * *

  Warning: For Mature Adult Audiences. Contains language and actions some may deem offensive. Contains extreme violence. Ménage – MFM.

  In book one of the Devil Savages MC: Rose Reynolds is a hardworking young woman with no time to play games. She can't afford to, being the supporter of family for her siblings, filling in for their less than desirable mother. When bills come due, she is left with only one option—more work. Rose goes to the men who own half the city—and carry the worst reputation. Men who have filled her fantasies for years and are not only the owners of both places she currently works, but the founding members of the Devil Savages MC. A Native American club notorious for their rough reputation, and their wild, wicked ways.

  Tony "Tonto" Walkingstick and Blake "Sandman" Tenkiller hope they haven't made a mistake when they hire Rose to work at the Devil Savages private holdings. Instead, they get a glance at how strong the little waitress is, and reevaluate their initial impressions of the delicate little rose. They've had their eye on her for awhile, but never thought she’d be open to their rough preferences and colorful sexual exploitations.

  The Devil Savages realize there is a traitor amongst them, giving the Diablos information on their clubs activities and helping the Latino gang bring drugs onto the Savages' turf. When all roads lead back to Rose, she leaves unable to put up with the accusations against her.

  Tonto and Sandman want answers, but what are they willing to sacrifice to receive them—a life of someone they love?

  Can a broken relationship with a rival gang be patched to combat against a common problem, the Diablos? And will two harden men who never apologize for how they live their lives be able to hold on to the Rose as the thorns cut deep?

  Bed of Roses

  Devil Savages MC

  Book One

  by Harley McRide

  © Copyright June 2014 JK Publishing, Inc.

  ISBN # 9781310795237

  All cover art and logo © Copyright June 2014 by JK Publishing, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Caroline Kirby

  Artwork by Jess Buffett

  Published by JK Publishing, Inc.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com, and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publishing company.

  Piracy

  Please always be aware of where you are purchasing your electronic books and from whom. Only purchase from reputable, licensed individuals such as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, etc. If ever in doubt, let the author know of a suspected site illegally selling their works—remember to include a link to the site where you have found a book you suspect of being pirated. It only takes a moment of your time, but you will forever have the gratitude of an author.

  About the eBook Purchased

  Your purchase of this eBook allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resale or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this eBook. This eBook cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer-to-peer program, free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this eBook, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this eBook anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find any e-books being sold or shared illegally, please contact the author or the publishing company.

  Email: [email protected]

  Dedication

  Family isn’t defined by genetics or bloodline. Family is the people that are there for you through the good times and the bad, the happy and the sad. I want to dedicate this to my family, (you know who you are) who has brightened my life and filled the missing pieces we have missed for so long. Thank you, and I love you. You’ve given me the best gift of all.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Books by Harley McRide

  Excerpt from Sharing Freedom

  Excerpt from Jen’s Journey

  Excerpt from Mission: Compromised Submissive

  Chapter One

  Rose Reynolds set the plates on the table in front of the gnarly bikers who came in for breakfast every morning. The five officers clad in black leather vests were regulars, and ordered the exact same thing day after day. Noticing their pattern, she had put in their order at the normal time of six forty-five a.m., having it hot and ready the moment they sat down at seven fifteen. They were always on time, and seemed to appreciate her gesture. Over the past few days, they had shown it with a more than sizeable tip; it amounted to more than she made in an entire shift.

  The Devil Savages were the most notorious motorcycle gang around, claiming the small town of Pinessee, Arizona and the surrounding areas. Technically, that included most of Arizona and parts of other adjoining states. There were whispers about their reputation, but despite their bad rep, they were always nice to her. She had grown up around MCs, having her mom bring home a different flavor every other month. After her dad had up and left with his secretary, things had been rough. Her mom used whatever means necessary to provide for her and her four siblings, lowering herself to be one of the skanks who made the rounds with the members in return for a few bills thrown her way from time to time. She argued that she had feelings for each of them and would be bumped up to the status as an ol’ lady soon, then their troubles would be over. Week after week went by, and it became apparent she was nothing more than a cunt to fuck. Somehow during all of it, her mother remained clueless, living in false hopes and promises.

  A few weeks back, Rose had been stuck on the closing shift. With the casino right across the street, the diner was the local go-to spot for the inebriated douchebags to hit for a stack of gooey pancakes before staggering home. A guy had wobbled in, totally shitfaced, yelling and stumbling. She had wondered how the fool had even made it across the street without face planting in the middle of it. He yelled out his order not even waiting f
or her to ask what she could get him. When she delivered his order, he threw it at her, claiming his strawberry pancakes weren’t supposed to have strawberries. She tried to explain the obvious as politely as she could while still avoiding confrontation with the staggering asshat, but he had other things in mind. He launched out of his chair and charged her, swinging sloppily. She moved out of his way easily enough but hadn’t expected him to pull the pistol from his waistband. It was then that one of the Prospects rushed in and disarmed him, ‘politely’ ushering him out the back into the alley. A few of the patches walked around the side of the building and beat him close enough to death he more than likely prayed for a shallow grave, but enough alive he would suffer for weeks to come.

  Blake Tenkiller, or Sandman as he was called, was a force of nature no one would reckon with. He had been voted in as the club’s SGT of Arms overseeing security for the club, their businesses, and their families. He kept Prospects stationed at each of their businesses for lookout, along with patched members as the bulldogs for each business. On a normal day, there were only usually two Prospects at the diner. Her ill-fated attacker had picked a bad night to do a stupid thing. She had heard mumbled rumors of how Blake had gotten his name—murdering his victims while they slumbered. He was one beast you never wanted to piss off. He was about as bad as they came. Besides the club President, he was as sexy as they made ‘em. All the members had Cherokee Indian in their lineage, giving most the to-die-for tan skin and dark hair. Sandman’s short military style was more of a dark chocolate, accenting his abnormally blue eyes. The man was built like a brick wall with tats covering every inch of skin that peeked out of his normal black tee. He was the walking, talking definition of badass.

  The head honcho of the Devil Savages was Tony Walkingstick—the Prez, he was half Cherokee Indian and went by the name Tonto. One he had earned not only for having the most Indian blood, but for his unique way of dealing with ‘problems’. Rumor had it that when people needed dealt with, the President of the Devil Savages scalped them before they were buried—alive in most cases. Tonto, much like Sandman, was built abnormally huge, with muscles on top of muscles neatly decorated with similar tats. What set him above and apart from any man Rose had ever seen was the large, slate grey almond eyes and shoulder length jet black hair always held back with the blue signature bandana folded low on his forehead. Apart, they were enough to make a girl ache, but together they were what fantasies were made of—and totally off limits. She wasn’t stupid enough to get involved with any biker, much less this forbidden duo. But dangerous or not, she couldn’t help storing them in her naughty file to use in the privacy of her own bedroom. Night after night, she fantasized about the rough pair, delving into delight she would never know.

  Rose walked away long enough to get the coffee and top off their cups, feeling more nervous than she ever had in her life. Things were getting harder at home, and unless she found a second, maybe even third job, they would be out on the streets. The Devil Savages owned the diner, but also the Indian casino, a florist shop, a pawnshop, and an MMA club. There were other ‘businesses’ they ran, but no one other than the brothers knew exactly what that entailed. Maybe her waitressing skills would earn some points and convince them to hire her at one of their other locations. There wasn’t a whole lot of other options with her lack of education.

  Here goes nothing. What’s the worst that can happen? They kill me and dump my carcass in the desert? At least my sorry excuse of a life will be over. The future doesn’t hold much for a girl like me.

  Rose gathered her courage and stood, politely waiting for a break in their conversation. When they noticed her still standing there they went silent, turning all eyes on her. She wanted to crawl under the table and hide. Sandman arched an eyebrow, showing no other emotion. “Did you need something?” She jumped, startled by his cold tone but quickly recovered, not wanting to show any weakness. She straightened her posture and smiled, taking in one last breath before she finally spit the words out.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt…but I was wondering if you might have any positions open at the casino.” The casino was where the big bucks were. If she could land a job as a cocktail waitress over there, her tips alone would outweigh a week's pay at the diner.

  “You lookin’ to quit?” Yo Neg asked in more of an accusation than a question. He was the only one of the brotherhood who looked like he didn’t belong with his blonde hair and blue-green eyes, which was a contradiction to the others. Over her three years of working there, she had learned Yo Neg meant white boy in Cherokee. It didn’t help matters that his legal name was Cory Jones either. Their road names were all somehow a reflection of each member, and Yo Neg’s didn’t disappoint. The club secretary might be a pale skin as they liked to refer to him, but the man was just as vicious, if not more so than the others. In all the time she had been around them, she had never seen the man smile—not even a little.

  “Um…no.” Rose lowered her eyes, hoping they didn’t expect an explanation. “I need a second job.” The group finally peeled their eyes off her and glanced amongst themselves in silent conversation before turning back to her. She could see the questioning looks they shot her but much to her surprise, they refrained from the interrogation she expected.

  “What kind of job are you looking for?” Tonto asked, putting her on the spot. She felt a little hope despite her embarrassment.

  “I’ve heard the cocktail waitresses make a killing over there. It might be enough to keep me from begging for a third job,” Rose half giggled, attempting to pass it off as a joke. Her tough crowd didn’t seem amused. Great. The silence was deafening.

  Finally, Tonto answered, “No” in a low growl. She had to grasp the edge of the table to keep from fainting in defeat. Her head spun a million miles a minute, going over her work ethic and waitressing since she was hired. It didn’t make sense…she was the best waitress the diner had. She had never been late—never called in sick—and never turned down extra hours. Even on a breakfast rush, she could handle the entire place without skipping a beat. So why didn’t they want her as an employee somewhere else? Then it hit her—the cocktail waitresses wore next to nothing. Their uniform consisted of a black bikini bottom with a blue ruffle skirt, garter belt, stockings, and a low-cut blue blouse that showed all the goods. At five foot four, a buck ten, she was far from the slim, long legged beauties that slung drinks there. She was short, but with curves in all the right place.

  “Oh, I understand…I know I’m not built physically for it but I hoped my job performance would make up where I lacked in the other department.” Her hands quickly pointed up and down the length of her body in expression.

  Tonto saw through her like a window. Her embarrassed expression spoke volumes, and punched him in the gut. It was no secret that a few of the brothers, including himself, had taken a liking to the little firecracker. She wasn’t one of the skanks who would fall on her back until they got it out of their system, and deep down—he didn’t want her to. She was different from the other tail that hung around them. With long brown hair, full hips perfect for gripping on to and a stacked rack, she kept him in a constant state of arousal. The idea of her being tossed to the wolves to fight every prick who floated through didn’t settle right without her having the ability to rake in the tips. For whatever reason, the girl was desperate for cash. Rose was the best employee they had outside of the club.

  “Your hot little ass doesn’t need to be around what goes on at the casino. How do you feel about fighting?” Sandman shot Tonto a warning look, getting a fierce warning glance out of the corner of his eye. For such a mean muther fucker, he was dense as a pile of rocks sometimes.

  “Fighting? I’m not much of a brawler, but love watching a good fight as much as the rest…” Her cute little nose wrinkled up. He couldn’t help but snicker at how naïve she was.

  “Good to know. Be at Devil Den tonight at eight.” Her eyes grew wide, but she quickly nodded, overly thanking them all. Tonto smi
led, waiting for her to walk away before he shifted, adjusting himself, and then turned to his officers.

  “Sandman, what the fuck? Question me again and you won’t ever need a fuckin’ haircut for as long as you live.”

  “Do you think she can handle the fights? They are worse than the men at the casino. She’s…not like us. Hell, I’d almost put money on it that she is a virgin. Women like that don’t belong around our kind,” Sandman spat in a pissier mood than normal.

  “She’s got a hot ass—plump and fuckable. Girl like that will make a killing in one night. Just don’t let her quit here…I like having my food ready when I walk in.” Yo Neg shoved another heaping fork full of French toast in his mouth, chasing it with a half cup gulp of coffee.

  “She’d make a good house mouse. Hot dinner and a good fuck each night...” Tonka, the clubs treasurer, pitched in. Greg Sanders was built like a Tonka truck and had a right hook that was nastier than if a damn bulldozer landed a hit. He was the strong silent type, but knew his shit when it came to anything technical. He managed everything to do with computers, which was a hell of a lot given all their businesses. Contrary to popular belief, a lot of the club members were well-educated college graduates with more creds than most normal civilians. They were always classified as deadbeats and blue collar scum by their tattoos and rough exterior. Tonka kept their assets distributed to off shore accounts and covered their ass with the law. He was younger than the other officers but was mature for his age and almost too intelligent for his own damn good.