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J.M. Walker's RUDE Preview: Chapter 1

Still conflicted about #oneclicking Rude? Here's Chapter 1. Also, Rude CAN be read as a standalone. You do NOT need to read the first books in the series before reading this one. 
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Chapter 1 - Coby
The naked body beside me didn’t do shit for my appetite. I was fucking hungry, and this limp bundle was dead weight compared to the beast within who wanted to come out and play. If only I could feed it. Give it the sustenance it craved. The ecstasy that took over all thought processes while you fuck into oblivion.
“You ready for more, baby?” the whore asked, looking up at me through heavy-lidded eyes.
I only looked at her. I couldn’t be sure what she saw on my face, but either way, I wanted her gone.
A moment later, she swallowed hard and rose from the bed. Grabbing her clothes, she shuffled out of the room.
Shower. I needed a fucking shower. I needed to wash the smell of impurity off me. 
The woman latched on hard the night before. One look, and the next thing I knew, she was all over me like a pig in shit. Of course, I acted how she wanted me to. If I would have shown her my true self, she would have left before I could get my dick wet. No woman could handle the beast—the part of myself I liked to think was put there out of retribution for my past transgressions. I was a sinner, and I paid the price by craving things I couldn’t get from just anyone.
When the front door shut, I took that as my cue and trudged to the bathroom. But not before I was met with the stare down from Dale Michaels. My Navy brother narrowed his eyes, looking between the door and myself.
“Rough night?” he asked, popping back a beer.
It wasn’t even noon yet and already he was drinking. Not that I was one to judge. If I drank, living in the shit world we did, I would probably be slamming back a few as well. Instead, in my case, I curbed that craving through other means necessary. Alcohol did shit for my appetite.
“Not rough enough,” I answered, pushing open the door leading to my savior. Hot water. And lots of it.
“I don’t get you, man.” He took another swig, burped and pointed the head of the bottle in my direction. “You fuck woman after woman but you’re still grumpy as shit. You think you would be the happiest man alive with how much pussy you’re getting.”
Pussy. Sure. I got a lot of it, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I shrugged, the movement causing a slight crack to shiver down my spine. “It’s only sex. And that—” I pointed to the main door at the front of the apartment “—was just pussy. Nothing more.” Act like a lady, and I’ll treat you like one. But if you come to me acting like a whore, I won’t be nice.
Dale shook his head. “Still don’t get you,” he mumbled, drinking the rest of his beer. He frowned once he realized it was empty and made his way into the kitchen.
Heading into the bathroom before he could bombard me with more questions, I stripped and turned on the shower. Craving the burn from the water, I stepped under the hot spray. A groan escaped me, the bite of the scalding liquid making all my nerve endings come alive. It helped the itch, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.
A hard knock sounded on the door a moment later, interrupting my current enjoyment.
“Angel needs us at the club,” Dale said. “Dante’s Kings are headed there.”
Fucking fuck.
“Be out in a sec.” I finished up my shower, dreading it instantly when I turned off the water. If only my emotions were that easy to turn off.
Dante’s Kings were annoying. They were like flies, always getting in the way and shitting on anything they touched.
The motorcycle club did everything in their power to put fear into the people they came into contact with. Only dealing with them a couple of times, I never gave them the satisfaction. They didn’t scare me. Nothing did. Not yet, anyway. I had seen it all. Dante’s Kings were pussies compared to who I had had to deal with in my lifetime.
“Coby,” Dale barked. “Let’s go.”
So damn impatient. I got dressed, making sure my shirt covered my scars. Tattoos wouldn’t even cover them, the skin being too sensitive, so I never even bothered. Nightmares from my past threatened to force their way into my mind. Nagging. Poking. Scraping at the walls of my sanity. Things I had done. Things I still did. Being a Navy SEAL sniper was not all puppies and glitter.
Giving myself a shake, I left the small room.
“Ready?” Dale asked, coming down the hallway toward me.
My body vibrated, my knuckles itching with the need to hit something. “Yes.”
He smirked. “Got the itch?”
“Yes,” I repeated, flexing my hands. The itch hurt at times. It was arthritis. I knew that. But the darkness inside of me liked to convince me it was the need to destroy. Like Godzilla itself, I craved the day I could tear down the evil that put the innocent in harm’s way.
“Let’s go.” Dale demanded, leaning his head from side to side.
I followed him out to his truck, the urgent need to fight growing stronger by the minute. The closer we got to the clubhouse, the more intense the urge became.
The King’s Harlots club came into view ten minutes later. Motorcycles lined the parking lot in all different sizes and colors. 
“As much as I can’t stand Dante’s King’s, they sure have some nice machinery,” Dale whistled. “I need a bike.”
“You don’t even know how to ride one,” I reminded him, the memory of him falling off mine coming to mind.
“You’re a tall fucker, and your bike is too big for me.”
I chuckled, shaking my head.
Dale raised an eyebrow.
Clearing my throat, I pasted on a straight face. 
Laughing. 
It wasn’t something I did often. Having feelings stripped from me at a young age, becoming a sniper in the military made sense. I didn’t care who I shot and killed. Everyone who fell to their death at my feet deserved it.
“You need to laugh more,” Dale mumbled, breaking the unnerving silence. 
Yeah, yeah. There were a lot of things I needed to do. Laughing was not one of them.
We pulled into the parking lot, and that was when a flutter of something washed over me, hitting me square in the balls. I couldn’t explain the new feeling. It was delicious, making my senses come alive. 
Stepping out of the truck, my gaze landed on the source of these new feelings. Or rather, recurring feelings that I hadn’t acted upon. Yet.
“Hey, guys,” Brogan Tapp, the smallest member of King’s Harlots but definitely the toughest, sidled up to Dale. “Max is inside.”
“Fucking great,” he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and made his way inside the club.
“Hi, Coby,” she said, her mouth moving over my name like a lover’s kiss, but all I could picture was it sliding over my cock instead.
I nodded once, giving her some acknowledgement.
She rolled her eyes, making her way back into the club, but not before I heard her mutter, “Asshole,” under her breath.
Smirking to myself, I followed her. Was I an asshole? Yes. But only because I knew I wouldn’t be good for her. She deserved better. So much better. I had demons, dark secrets, and I didn’t need to worry about a woman who I knew could make me fall in love with her. These confusing feelings I got already from just being near her didn’t sit well with me. My palms twitched, itching with the need to touch her. Just a touch. My fingers begged to move her dark curly hair off the back of her neck. My arms pleaded to wrap around her small, firm body, holding her against me until I got the calm I was looking for.
Brogan could be it. The one who took the impending darkness away.
I shook my head. No. I would live the rest of my life fucking random women to curb my craving before I ever hurt a hair on Brogan’s head. And being with me would do just that.
***
(Brogan)
Coby-Fucking-Porter.
The guy was a God.
Dark. Tall. Quiet. So damn quiet. He didn’t need to talk for you to know that he was already looking into your soul. I bet he knew all my dirty and dangerous secrets without me even telling him.
When he grunted, instead of saying hi to me, I wanted to drive my fist into his face and yell for him to answer me. To have a conversation with me. To give me something. But no. He had demanded for weeks that I stop hinting. I had a crush on the guy. Everyone knew it. But, why wouldn’t I? He was everything that I wasn’t.
I found myself wanting to not only crack his walls but destroy them. I was warned, told to stay away from him, leave him alone. Blah. Blah. Blah.
With four older brothers, I wasn’t one to give up easily.
After everything that had been going on over the past couple of weeks, I would lie low, though, giving Coby the space he felt he needed. Everything in me told me that something had happened. Call it the nurturing side of me, but I wanted to help. I wanted to ease his pain which wasn’t like me at all. The only people I felt the need to protect were my brothers and sisters and now Coby’s team.
Vice-One had made themselves known a couple of months ago when they started working on the club after someone tried to blow it up.
Angel Rodriguez, being the owner, was adamant on getting it fixed up. Especially after he met Genevieve Gold. Or Jay. Call her by her full name and she would shove her shitkicker up your ass.
Making my way into the club, I headed to the meeting room that was now filled with two bike clubs and the guys from Vice-One. I never let it be known but I didn’t like crowds. Especially if people got in my bubble.
Jay sat at the head of the large oak table, talking to Maxine Stanton, the vice-president.
Max nodded every so often, looking around the large room before turning back to our boss.
“Brogan, you okay?” Meeka Cline, my best friend, came up beside me, grumbling under her breath how there was too much testosterone in one room.
“I’m fine.” I would be better if I was alone or hitting something. My muscles vibrated. A good workout would be needed after this shit.
A loud whistle sounded around the room, silencing the noisy chatter.
“Tell us what’s going on,” Angel demanded of Brian Gold, Jay’s father. He stood beside Jay, keeping his hand on her shoulder. Although he was the president of Dante’s Kings and rough around the edges, when it came to his daughter, he was a big teddy bear.
“Charles has contacted us,” the older man’s deep voice grit out. “One of our men from another chapter ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was sent back to his club piece by piece, the last one being his dick.”
My stomach somersaulted, but not for reasons one would think. It reacted that way whenever I wished I could do something myself. To rip off every appendage that belonged to Charles Brian would be the best gift I had ever been given. I was sick and twisted but I owned it.
“Fuck me,” Jay breathed. “Who was it?”
“A prospect, but it doesn’t matter who,” Brian snapped, shaking his head a second later. “Sorry, nugget. It’s been a rough morning.”
“I understand.” She rose to her feet, pacing back and forth. “Anything else?”
“Another club was blown up in Fort Banks,” Brian answered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Shit.” Dale leaned forward. “You think Charles’ men did it?”
“Yes,” Tyler Bone interjected. “We do.” The vice-president of Dante’s Kings, cracked his knuckles. “It’s only been the one club so far but we wanted to warn you.”
Nothing was said as Tyler spoke the truth. He was an ass. Being Jay’s ex, he had caused problems for them. But for whatever reason, he was being civil.
“Why do you want to help us?” Jay questioned, her forehead crinkling in the middle.
“Nugget, why wouldn’t we want to help?” her father asked. “I know you’ve had your problems, but we’re in this together. These bastards are trying to destroy what’s ours. They killed one of our own.”
“I get that,” she interrupted. “But why are you helping us?” she asked Tyler.
Tyler sat back, rubbing his chin. “I don’t know. I do suggest taking my help while it’s being offered, though.”
Jay laughed. “That’s more like it.” She let out a heavy sigh, turning to Angel. “What do you think?”
“I think you girls shouldn’t be alone. Being one of the only female MCs in this area, you have a bigger target on your backs. These sick fucks …” he growled. “We have to be careful.”
Jay nodded. “Thank you for warning us.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “You can go now.”
I bit back a laugh. God, I loved her. Jay was good at her job, and she didn’t take shit from anyone. Not even her father’s club. It always amused me when she threw her attitude at them.
“You’ve become a bitch, Jenny.” Tyler stood, rapping his knuckles on the table top. “We’re only trying to help.”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks for that.” Jay looked to her father. “Thank you.”
Her dad only smirked. “Be safe.” He kissed her head and followed the rest of his crew out of the room.
“Well, that was fun,” Dale muttered, stretching his arms over his head.
“Oh, yeah.” Max pasted a fake smile on her face. “The fact that clubs are being blown to shit all over the state is definitely something to look forward to.”
Dale only stared at her, his eyes darkening.
“All right, children—” I rose from the chair “—play nice.”
Dale scoffed. “That’s boring.”
Max scowled, leaving the room and slamming the door shut behind her.
Letting out a sigh, I shook myself. “I’m going to go hit something.”
Although I would rather fuck this frustration out of me, I had no one that would accommodate that desire. It wasn’t like Coby had any interest in appeasing this ache inside of me. The guy couldn’t stand me. He wouldn’t talk to me. He wouldn’t even acknowledge that I existed. This was a fucked-up time, and I found myself wanting him even more. Call me a masochist but the fact he was being an asshole turned me on.
I was so screwed.
--
King's Harlots, book 3
Rude - can be read as a standalone
Amazon US
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Amazon AU
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iBooks
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Kobo
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