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Now, the question of the century… had he ever fallen out of love?
It doesn’t matter.
Sins of Fire Real Anarchy West was like a fire in the fall.
Bright, dangerous, kind of fun.
Best kept at a distance.
Too close and you will get burned. You will get hurt.
Nothing can stop it…
Linc grunted and felt his cock thicken.
“There we go,” he whispered.
Back in his thoughts he pictured Nova and him sitting on top of the roof of the clubhouse…
There’s a sunset in the background. She’s on her knees before Linc. Her mouth sliding up and down his cock. That perfect mouth of hers. That mouth could speak such sweet words. That mouth could get angry and say mean things.
And that same mouth knows how to slide up and down my cock…
Linc hissed and his body jerked up.
The deecee whimpered with her mouth full of cock and then stayed right there as Linc began to come. Taking his load, spurt after spurt, groaning each time his cock pulsed. When he was done, he pulled at her hair, taking her mouth off his cock.
She looked at him. She had dark brown eyes. Not the sweet blue eyes of Nova.
“Get the fuck out of my room,” Linc growled at the deecee.
The deecee knew her place. Honored just be able to sneak into Linc’s room and suck him off without resistance or anger. She stood off the bed and adjust her tight tank top. Her little nipples were knotted tight, pushing through the shirt. Her left nipple obviously pierced. Cute, delicious, something to fuck for fun.
She left the room and Linc took a shower to wash himself of everything. He had been set up to be killed last night and yet the only thing on his mind was Nova.
She needed his help. She needed him. Her brother Nick, missing. Linc remembered Nick. He obviously remembered Nova too.
Once out of the shower, Linc addressed his gunshot wound. It looked gross. Chewed up red skin of the wound itself. A purple ring around the spot. It hurt like fucking hell. Not the first time Linc had been shot. And he figured it was far from the last time too.
Fresh clothes and then his old dirty leather cut, Linc ran a hand through his hair and walked out of his room.
Custer drank a beer at the bar. His normal breakfast.
“Shot an’ an egg,” Custer growled in a sleepy voice.
The deecee that now had a belly full of Link’s cum poured a shot of whiskey for Custer. She then got an egg and cracked it, spilling the raw insides into the whiskey.
Custer grabbed the glass and nodded at Linc. “VP, joining me?”
“Hard pass, old man.”
“Good for the soul. Keeps me young.”
Custer looked to be about two hundred years old. He threw the shot glass back and downed the whiskey and raw egg.
Muffin walked out of the kitchen, carrying a container of food. Guy pushed seven feet tall, was the best damn cook Linc ever met, and everyone called him Muffin. He didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes it was fun to have someone hear the name before seeing the man. Just to see that shock on their face.
“I’m on my way out,” Linc said. “Breakfast smells great.”
