Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2) B.B. Blaque (top romance novels .TXT) đ
- Author: B.B. Blaque
Book online «Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2) B.B. Blaque (top romance novels .TXT) đ». Author B.B. Blaque
It was no secret that Iâd been a pubic hair away from becominâ a priest. I mean, I was a long way from slippinâ into a collar, but in the scheme of things, I was a hang-around who was thinkinâ long and hard about becominâ a full priestly patch. Clearly, that wasnât my callinâ.
Giovanni was dead. Crucifix was alive and had everything he wantedâexcept 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 wearinâ a habit and I was a proud member of the Rotten Apple chapter, wearinâ my rag, covered in tattoos, slidinâ onto my bike. We tried to ignore what we saw, but it was too late. When she came over and started in about whatâd 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 tryinâ, or lose my fuckinâ mind from lovinâ 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 fuckinâ mind. I had to be sparing with that shit âcause there wasnât a whole lot left.
Royal Bastards Video was rockinâ and FOCUS and Nixx were gettinâ 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 beinâ out there and knew we werenât tryinâ to step on their dicks, but stillâit wasnât the Big Rotten Apple. It wasnât the Mounds Bar with our tits and asses shakinâ under the black lights. As I pulled up in front, it looked like I had a welcome home party goinâ on. All the guysâ bikes were parked in front and Rattler was bouncinâ 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.
âBrother, man! Itâs been too fuckinâ long!â Rattler smacked at my back. âDo you even remember what real food tastes like after beinâ out there? I know there ainât nothinâ good in Hollywood.â
It was the Godâs honest. Thereâs no food like New York City food, no matter what the fuck ya say. Iâd been dyinâ 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 happeninâ, but food wasnât on the list.
âYouâre tellinâ me! Iâm surprised I havenât wasted the fuck away to nothinâ! A man cannot survive on pussy alone, and I donât give a fuck who tries to say different.â
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.
âHey, can one of ya get Cassie to order me a calzone and a stuffed spinach slice from Tonyâs around the corner? Rattler . . . you do it, broâ, since youâre the one who brought up food!â
âFuck you, man! Tell her yourself!â
I glared back at Rattler. Heâd been doinâ my job and FOCUSâ when we were out west, but he needed to remember his place.
âYo, donât forget yourself, motherfucker! I was gone. I didnât die. So unless you know somethinâ I donât, Iâm still the president and you didnât magically step into my boots. Get on it, VP. Iâll be in the office.â
Heâd 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 presidentâs patch. He wasnât gonna step into my spot or FOCUSâ as sergeant at arms. He was lucky we didnât kick him off the board entirely. The shit with him dealinâ to his girls and all that fucked-up Vicious mess had him skatinâ on thin ice.
A few of the chicks ran up to hug me and Rock Candy brought over a bottle of somethinâ and two glasses. Looks like sheâs the one tendinâ to me tonight.
Even gettinâ back to the same olâ pussy was good. New York chicks arenât plasticâexcept 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 wouldnât get into my shit, sheâd always be a tiny infraction away from gettinâ the boot. I didnât need a different bitch every night. I just needed to know if I said kneel, theyâd drop like a lead weight. Patience was somethinâ I didnât 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 dressinâ room, âIâve been very sinful while you were gone, Crucifix . . . . I need to confess somethinâ really awful.â
She giggled and pushed through the door to Transformation Stationâthe girlsâ dressinâ room.
Fuck, I donât 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. âSorry, kid. Not tonight. I
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