Chapter One
Lizard
The bright beam of light homing in on my face had woken me. Squinting, I see it’s the sun piercing the material of the curtains, successfully finding a gap where I hadn’t closed them properly the night before.
Closing my eyes tightly against the annoying dazzle, I repeat the mantra in my head.
I’m Lizard, otherwise known as Norton James. I ride with the Satan’s Devils MC and have for the past ten years. I’m thirty-eight years old, and my birthday is… my birthday is the tenth of January. The current President of the United States is… well, who can forget that name? I’m a tattoo artist and I run Devil’s Ink on behalf of my brothers. I’ve no ties, no family and that’s how I intend to stay.
All there. All the important details.
Today is going to be a good day.
The uneasy but inexplainable fear that always seems to be there when I awake begins to recede.
Sliding my legs out from under the covers, I place my bare feet on the floor, then look around my room. It’s not much but has all the essentials I need in my life. A place to lay my head, a closet for my clothes, and a desk where I can sit and sketch out my designs in peace. With the luxury of an en suite bathroom, this is my home.
I’m more than content to live on the compound of the Satan’s Devils MC Colorado chapter based in Pueblo. I have everything that I could wish for, and no desire for anything more. These four-square walls are more than adequate as my personal space. I’ve no yearning to own an apartment, let alone a house.
Already I hear voices and the heavy stomping of motorcycle boots making their way past my door, my brothers getting ready for the day. The sounds are comforting, reminding me I’m not alone. What would I do without such company? Just take one step outside my door and I’ll find men who share my hopes and dreams, and, when I have the need—which I admit is quite often—I can take my choice of the five club girls who exist just to keep us sexually satisfied. In return, of course, we don’t leave them wanting.
Hmm. I glance back at the bed where I’d fucked Bella last night. Her tits, mmm mmm. She didn’t leave me unsatisfied, that’s for sure. The night before that, Mace and I had Breezy and Tulia together. Mace likes to fuck with a partner, and now that Ink’s found his one, he’d asked me if I’d like to step up. Suits me fine.
Naked, I glance down at my cock lying flaccid in the midst of my trimmed pubic hair and grin. Fuck me, but I can’t understand how my brothers are hooking up with old ladies. I don’t have it in me to commit to one pussy for life. What would I do without the variety? Discounting the old-timers who’ve worn their ball and chain for years, other brothers are now dropping as though Paladin brought some infectious disease up with him from Tucson. First Demon found Vi, then Beef met Steph, quickly followed by Pyro with Mel, and more recently, the confirmed bachelor, Ink, getting together with Beth. Well, whatever they’ve got, I’m immune to it. Always have been, and always will be.
Best get this day started. Yeah. The sooner my work’s done, the quicker I can come home and choose who’s going to get the benefit of my cock tonight. Sheila perhaps? Been a while since I’ve had her. My cock twitches as I start remembering what she can do with her mouth.
Fuck, man. Oh shit, why did my mind have to go there? Now I’ve got to shoot one off in the shower.
Half an hour later, dressed and my cock behaving once again, I descend the industrial metal staircase which takes me to the clubroom. Already it’s busy.
Citizens have this idea that all the members of the MC do is ride around on their bikes having fun and committing crimes, maybe with a bit of murder and mayhem thrown in. While we might do the latter at times, and only ever for good reason, mostly our time is filled with the same shit as other folks, an honest day’s work.
“Liz, Theo’s got a slight fever. Jay’s going to take him to the doctor—”
“Vi,” I address the prez’s woman and recently qualified tattoo artist, “your boy’s ill? You do what you need to do, take him yourself. Me and Jonah can carry the workload for now.”
It was the right answer. Vi tosses me a worried smile now tinged with relief. Kids get ill, moms worry. It’s just something they do. Blotting out the childhood memory that my own mother wouldn’t have given a damn, I just raise my chin when she offers her thanks and hurries off with a fretting child in her arms. I watch her for a moment, thinking how glad I am I don’t have kids.
“You around later after church, Liz?” A deep voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Sure, Mace. What’s up?”
He leans in. “Got a few goodies from that sex shop on Main. Think they’re right up Titsy and Breezy’s street. You game?”
Despite the relief I’d only just gotten in the shower, my cock twitches as I slap him on the back. “Sure thing, Brother.” I wonder just exactly what he’s bought. Something to torture the girls with that will be certain. Then I frown. “But I ain’t wearing no cock ring. Uh-uh.” Not after last time. Could hardly get the darn thing off when the catch had gotten stuck.
Mace snorts. “Thought it would be the hospital for you that time.”
I glare at him. He can laugh, but it hadn’t been a joking matter. Turning up at ER with a ring on my fucking dick? No thank you. Relief wasn’t a strong enough word for what I felt when the lube had eventually enabled me to work that thing off without having to seek expert assistance. I turn my back on him and walk away before he can see the corners of my lips curve. That shit would be funny if it happened to anyone else, and I can’t blame him from getting mileage out of it. It’s only what I’d have done myself if our positions were reversed. Hmm, that’s an idea. Maybe I can get him to try it.
Still, looks like I’ve got fun to look forward to tonight. When the club business has been dealt with, of course.
In the kitchen, Jeannie puts my to-go breakfast in my hand, a bacon sandwich with lashings of ketchup spilling out, and pushes a cup of coffee across the table toward me. Various other breakfasts are being prepared. It’s like a conveyor belt with men walking in, taking their normal preference, which Bomber’s wife knows well, eating fast then disappearing to our various businesses.
“Thanks, Liz.” Prez enters and sends me a chin lift. “Vi was worried about letting you down.”
“No problem, Prez. Schedule’s not overflowing today, and Jonah can get Whale in to help with the walk-ins if there’s a sudden rush.”
Prez glares at me. “Weston,” he reminds me, sternly. “Jonah’s brother’s called Weston.”
I’m unrepentant. “Where there’s a Jonah, there has to be a whale,” I insist, grinning broadly.
“He’s threatened not to take the full-time position,” Demon warns. “Came to see me himself.”
I bristle slightly being the manager of Devil’s Ink with full responsibility. I let Demon know. “Whether or not we take him on is down to me, Prez. If a man can’t take a joke, well, maybe he’s not a good fit.”
“He’s a fuckin’ good artist from what I’ve seen, Liz.”
“I’ll reserve judgement until I see him in action, Prez. All I’ve seen is his portfolio.” Which looks fucking ace, I admit, but still, it’s more than what ink he can lay down, it’s the way he treats the customers, together with his general demeanour. If he goes running over my head for every slight, that shit won’t settle well.