Furious (Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 3)

  Furious

  By

  Tory Richards

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2018 Tory Richards

  All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Tory Richards

  Tory Richards: http://www.toryrichards.com

  Email: toryrichards60@gmail.com

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

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Editor: Alisha Corsi

  Cover Artist: Madelene Martin

  ‘Author’s note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.’

  Chapter 1

  What the fuck? I came to a jerking halt the instant I opened the door and stepped into the bar. The first thing my eyes lit on was the woman who was standing behind the bar. She was fucking tiny--couldn’t have been five feet tall--and had a wild mass of curly hair the color of fire. Even from where I stood, I could make out the vibrant green of her eyes as she flirted with some asshole named Martin at the end of the bar. Tommy knew better than to hire anyone under-age, but fuck if she looked a day past eighteen. Muttering with annoyance, I made my way to the end of the bar where Tommy was counting out the cash drawer.

  He glanced up at me and smiled. "Hey, boss."

  I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and jerked him halfway across the counter that separated us. "What the fuck, Tommy, are you sure she's legal?" I growled close to his face. I didn't need to go into any explanations of who I was talking about. She was the only other person working behind the bar. "Fuck, don't make me regret giving you the task of hiring a bartender."

  "Chill, boss," he laughed, pulling his shirt out of my hand and dropping back to his feet. He cleared his throat. "She's twenty-five."

  No fucking way! I whipped my head back in her direction, narrowing my eyes on what I'd failed to notice before. She was stacked, as in Sophia Vegara curves. The loose flowery blouse she was wearing had camouflaged the size of her tits from the front, but a side-view showed their size off perfectly. And fucking perfect they were. Mouthwatering perfect, the kind a man could get lost in in a number of creative ways. I slowly shook my head, looking back at a smug Tommy.

  "What the fuck were you thinking hiring someone who looks like her?" I snarled. "The customers are already hitting on her."

  He shrugged. "We have strippers and sexy servers, so what's the difference?"

  I released a sigh of irritation, knowing that he was right. I glanced back at the woman. She was fucking stunning and oblivious to my inspection because she was so involved with Martin. I didn't like it. The Naked Lady was a rowdy bar that catered to outlaw bikers, truckers, and the like. Sure, we had strippers and sexy, half-naked servers, but most of them were mouthy and tough and could handle themselves. I'd made sure of that myself. If the servers couldn't handle a little bit of groping to get bigger tips, and were too timid to put a drunk in his place, they were out. The strippers earned extra by giving out private lap dances in one of the back rooms, but that was their choice.

  Most of the women were older, too. I didn't hire young girls who were looking for their first job. Staring at the curly redhead, she didn't look twenty-five, and she didn't look all that tough. She looked like the kind of woman men fought over to get inside her pants. And I didn't need the headache. I should have been clearer with Tommy about what I was looking for in a bartender, and not given him free reign.

  Fuck. It looked like Martin was already smitten with our new bartender, and she was so caught up in him that she was ignoring other customers. I frowned, pinning my gaze on Tommy. "Fire her ass."

  His expression fell, and he went from a thirty-year-old man to a seven-year-old child just like that. "What? Why? I just hired her two weeks ago! And she's been doing great!"

  "I don't care. Let her work out the rest of the night. Pay her off and kiss her ass goodbye. I don't want to see her here after tonight." I swung around and left to go to my office, not giving Tommy the chance to argue with me. He knew better, anyway. My bar. My decision.

  As I walked past where she was flirting with Martin, her gaze lifted to mine. Fuck, I'd never seen green eyes like that. Effervescent, captivating, as sparkling as an emerald. Her complexion was pale except for the freckles across her pert little nose, her lips too full for her small face, but sexy as fuck in their lusciousness. And that hair. Christ, those cork screw curls seemed to have a life of their own when she moved, falling down her back in a tempting waterfall that beckoned a man's hands to tame them. My fingers curled with the thought.

  She was eye-candy that was for fucking sure.

  I pulled my eyes away and continued to the back. The sooner she was out of there, the better. Her kind didn't belong here. She looked too classy, too inexperienced, and she sure as shit didn't know bikers. If she had, she wouldn't have returned my gaze as brazenly as she had when I'd walked by. She would have looked away with unease. Another man would have taken the quiet interest in her eyes as an invitation to take her out back.

  Not that the thought of taking her out back and fucking her up against the wall didn't hold appeal. Hell, I could just imagine those big tits bouncing up and down while I plowed my dick into her. When I wanted a woman, I just took her. I'd fucked just about every woman who worked for me at least once. I hadn't forced them; they'd wanted it, even after they'd heard the rumors about me.

  I was a mean, cold-hearted bastard, and I fucked all women the same--without emotions and the mushy stuff. That shit grabbed a man by the balls and didn't let go. Been there, done that. Women were nothing but an outlet for me. They knew the score, and what to expect, and that made shit less complicated. So I'd forget about the little redhead with the big tits and stick to my usual type.

  And speaking of my usual type, a tall, leggy blonde had just emerged from the ladies room as I walked past. Cindy Baxter had been after my dick for a long time, but I'd drawn the line at fucking married women. Even I had fucking scruples. Still, that didn't mean I couldn't look. And Cindy was a prime piece of ass. She'd married well. She was always put together, always with perfect make-up and hair, always smelled good. And tonight was no exception. She smiled when she saw me. I smiled back.

  "Hi, Moody. I haven't seen you in a while." She stopped right in my way, giving me the droopy eyed, pursed lips gaze, her trademark seductive look.

  "Haven't been around," I said. I didn't make a habit of coming to town, preferring to stay home when I wasn't on a job. Tommy was a good manager, except for his lack of judgment in the last order I'd given him.

  "Well, I'm glad we ran into each other tonight." She stepped closer to me, so close that her tits, which were barely covered, brushed against my chest.

  She was playing her usual game, and I didn't have the patience for it. She knew I wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole as long as she had a ring on her finger. There were too many other women out there who didn't come with complications. For some reason the redhead came to mind.

  "Notice anything different about me?" Cindy cooed, holding up her hand. I raised a brow and waited. "Robin and I are legally separated."

  The invitation in her smile made my dick twitch. Without words, I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her with me to my office. It wasn't going to be romantic. It wasn't going to be sweet. I fucked to get off, and
she was about to find out for herself that the rumors going around about me were true. I didn't even bother closing my door. She wouldn't be in there long.

  I pulled her in front of me and pushed her face first down upon my desk. She let out a squeal of protest when I lifted her skirt and ripped her panties off.

  "Moody!"

  I didn't say anything. Just grunted as I forced her back down when she tried to get up. I kept a hand at the small of her back and used my other one to undo the front of my pants. Then, after reaching for one of the condoms that I kept in my desk drawer, I slipped it on my already hard dick. Cindy was still wiggling in an effort to rise from the desk, making all kinds of sounds of protest and disbelief. She wanted candy and flowers? Fuck that shit. If she was under the impression that I'd been pining for her all this time, she was about to get a rude awakening. She was nothing more to me than a warm hole for my dick.

  I slammed forward and impaled her with my dick. She cried out, just like all the others did when I first entered them. Not giving her time to adjust to my size, I began to fuck her. I didn't play with her tits, I didn't reach around to thrum her clit, and I didn't kiss her. I felt nothing but the warm, wet sheath that hugged my dick. I fucked her without touching her anywhere except for the place where my dick slid into her body. Little puffs of air rushed out of her with every thrust.

  I stared straight ahead as I fucked her without emotion. Movement at my door drew my gaze there to see the little redhead paused in the threshold, her shocked eyes focused on what she'd walked in on. And then her eyes darted up to mine. It didn't occur to me to stop. If anything, her standing there watching added an element of excitement that I'd been missing. Her little tongue came out to lick her bottom lip and I almost fucking exploded.

  When she tugged on her bottom lip and I pictured those plump lips circling my dick, I did lose it. I whipped my dick out of Cindy's pussy, ripped off the condom, and came all over her ass. Barely a grunt left me as I pumped my seed out, my eyes glued to a woman's whose name I didn't even know. Curious green eyes were focused on what my hand was doing, and as soon as I was pumped dry I put my dick away and stepped away from Cindy.

  "God damn you, Moody, what the hell was that?" Cindy screeched, standing up straight. She turned to me with an angry, red face. It was clear from her tone that she was less than satisfied.

  The woman at the door seemed to wake up from the daze she'd been in. She blinked, met my eyes one last time, and then rushed off. I turned my attention back to Cindy. "I'm done with you. Get out." I moved around my desk to my chair.

  Cindy stood there frozen, her eyes large and mouth opened with disbelief. She pushed her skirt down. "What about me?"

  "What about you?" I sat down. "You've been wanting me to fuck you. I fucked you." I glared at her coldly, until she grew nervous and began to look away.

  "You're a cold bastard," she uttered.

  "So now you know what you've heard about me is true."

  She began to sputter. "How . . . how . . . how did you even get a hard-on?"

  Red hair, green eyes, and big tits came to mind. "By thinking of someone else." Her jaw dropped and her face turned redder with anger. "Do you need help leaving?" I asked without feeling. I began to look at last month’s books.

  I knew that I was being cruel, but it was a vicious cycle that I couldn't seem to break. Ever since Maggie…I pushed her memory away. I could fuck a woman but I didn't want her, and I made sure that she didn't want me by treating her like crap. Women went with their emotions; they often confused intimacy with commitment and love. I couldn't afford for another woman to get close to me. Once in my lifetime was fucking enough.

  I didn't have it in me to love again.

  The women who were interested in me were intrigued by the tatted-up, outlaw biker they'd heard whispers about through town, the mysterious loner who lived in an old adobe fortress in the desert. They were curious about where I went and what I did. Why was I so cold and withdrawn? It wasn't a secret; it was just the way I was. But for some reason, women were both drawn to and frightened of me at the same time.

  Like a moth to a flame.

  I heard a noise and looked up. Cindy was still standing there, indignation in every pore.

  "You still here?"

  "You're ah—" She halted, as if realizing that she'd been about to go too far. Then, with a humph, she spun around and stormed from my office.

  I expelled a deep breath and sat back in my chair. She wouldn't be back. I could always tell when a woman was okay with the way I treated them and was just in it to get off like I was, or if they'd been holding out some kind of messed up hope that they would become “the one,” that special someone who would crack the ice around my heart and ride off into the sunset with me.

  There'd only ever been one woman special enough to get inside my heart.

  And she was dead.

  Chapter 2

  Bailey

  "Don't worry, honey, everything will work out."

  I glared at my roommate and best friend, Holly. She was leaning over the sink, close to the mirror, applying mascara. "Easy for you to say. You still have a job!"

  "And you'll find another one. If not here in Boulder City, then maybe in Las Vegas." Nothing fazed Holly, which was one of the reasons why I loved her. She always managed to look at the bright side of things.

  "I don't want to work in Las Vegas," I mumbled. I pulled my hair up for the umpteenth time, trying to tame my curls into some semblance of control. No matter what I did with my hair, there were always curls that escaped confinement and did their own thing. "I give up!" I yelled at my reflection.

  Holly laughed. "Honey, just leave it down. You have beautiful hair, reminds me of Merida in Brave. Come to think of it, you remind me of Merida."

  I rolled my eyes. "A Disney princess? You're not helping."

  Holly laughed, fluffing her brown bob.

  "I don't know why I'm going out tonight. I can't afford to spend the money." I'd been fired from my job the day before, and for no apparent reason. At least, none that had made any sense. Why would there have been a job listing in the paper for a bartender if they hadn't really needed one?

  "You're going out because you need to. It will help lift your spirits." She slipped on black stilettos that raised her five-foot-five-inch frame to five-foot-nine-inches. "And maybe the owner will be there so you can ask him why you got fired."

  My mouth turned down as I remembered the hot sex scene between the hot biker and the beautiful blonde that I'd walked in on the day of my firing. I'd seen other people fucking before in movies, but never in person. I'd been mesmerized at the sight of the man's big--and I'm talking huge--cock sliding in and out of the woman's pussy. He'd been fucking her from behind, completely clothed, but when he'd pulled out of her I could clearly see the length and size of his shaft.

  Neither one had seemed to be enjoying it. As far as I could tell from the blonde's actions, she'd hadn't come, but he had. And a lot! And other than a single grunt at his initial release, he hadn't made a sound either. Strange. The way he'd locked eyes on me, I'd gotten the impression that he'd pulled out and come on her ass for my benefit.

  It had been hot.

  I had no idea if he'd been the boss that Tommy had sent me in to talk to, and I hadn't been about to hang around to find out after that. So I'd left, frustrated and a little angry. I'd liked that job. I'd been there for two weeks and had already made enough in tips to pay off my car. Now I would need to save that money for rent and food until I found another job.

  "How do I look?" Holly spun around like a ballerina.

  She was gorgeous. Her brown hair, brown eyes, and olive-toned skin made my alabaster skin look almost ghostly. She had an hour-glass figure that her bright yellow linen dress outlined perfectly. Only Holly would wear a bright, eye-catching dress out bar-hopping. She would definitely not go unnoticed.

  "Perfect as always," I smiled, putting the finishing touches on my eyes.

  Releasi
ng a breath, I stood back and gave myself a critical look. Normally I went casual when we went out, a blouse and a pair of jeans, maybe boots. But for some reason I’d felt like dressing up tonight, wearing a body-hugging leather dress that fell to mid-thigh with a bustier top. I wore the tiniest panties that I owned because the skirt was so tight. Sexy stockings were rolled up to where the hem of my skirt stopped, exposing just a sliver of naked thigh.

  Stilettos completed my outfit, but they only put me at five-foot-four because I was a shorty, which also meant that I was curvy, and not by choice. I'd inherited my red hair, green eyes, and big boobs from my mother and grandmother. My Irish temper came with the territory of having a name like Bailey O'Brian, along with the fact that I’d been raised by a set of hot-headed parents.

  "You look hot!" Holly exclaimed with a big smile. "I bet if you run into the boss at the Naked Lady tonight he'll hire you back and give you a raise."

  I rolled my eyes at her enthusiasm. It had been her idea to go to the Naked Lady, convinced that if I ran into Beckett James that I could talk him into hiring me back. I thought about the hunk that I'd seen in Mr. James' office, and I wondered if he was the owner of the bar. Tommy had said that he was there that afternoon, but that didn’t mean anything. After all, I'd been there for two weeks and hadn't seen him once.

  "You do know that this is a bikers' bar, right?" I brought up again, wanting to make sure that Holly understood what that meant.

  "You don't think I can slum it for one night?" she joked. She would be slumming it, too. Bikers and truckers? Not our usual type of dating material.

  "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into, honey. There will be dancing there and plenty of men to buy us drinks, but they may expect a little something in return."

  "I'm game. Besides, I'm tired of the usual haunts and the preppy college boys. I'd like to meet a real man for a change."