Nate's POV
3 weeks earlier
"FUCK YOU, BIKER!" Shanice pops her pretty head out from her bedroom window.
Fixing my bike in the backyard, I return. "Damn girl, you have a pair of lungs on you," I tease back, loud enough for her to hear me.
A few minutes later, she stomps out of her back door, hair in a mess and last night's green silk robe. "You motherfucker! Why the fuck are you working so damn fucking early on your goddamn stupid bike?" she curses me out. Shanice's enraged stance does the opposite of what she wants to convey.
Standing up, I stretch out my pants to give my erect dick room. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" I chuckle back.
"It's not fucking funny, Nate. It's too early for your shenanigans." She crosses her arms and taps her foot, waiting for me to give in to her. Like hell, I will.
"Who the fuck sleeps until nine in the freaking morning. Oh, right, spoiled little princesses like you."
"Bitch, did you call me spoiled and... little?" She cocks her head from right to left. Kitten really thinks that she's intimidating.
"Yes." Out of nowhere, Shanice drenches me from head to toe with water. "What the hell!"
"Don't wake me up! Don't call me spoiled! And don't call me short!"
Oh, so that's how you wanna play it. I scoop up a handful of dirt and throw it at Shanice's face. Grandma always told me never to play boys' games with girls, but Shanice started it.
"You fucking asshole. Your ass is grass." Shanice wets me again with the hose, picks up the resulting mud, and starts slinging, but her aim sucks like hell. I jump over the waist-high fence and tackle her to the ground.
Straddling her while holding a large piece of mud inches away from her face while the other has both her hands above her head. "Say, uncle, or spend the entire day fixing your hair."
"Fuck you, asshole." Shanice tries to buck me off her, but she's waking someone downstairs.
"Don't say I didn't warn you, Kitten. You'll learn to respect me."
Her robe loosens, and one of her supple breasts spills out of her tank top. The momentary distraction allows Shanice to buck me off her and gain the upper hand. She pommels me with mud; she's relentless. "You dickhole... stop... working... on... your... stupid... bike." With every word, she enunciates she batters me with mud.
My hands travel to her hips to get her off, but I'm enjoying the feeling. Grabbing a handful of her ass, which she doesn't seem to notice as her focus is more on getting me dirty, I imagine her riding me hard.
But after a while, the mud gets in my boxers. Enough is enough; grabbing the hose that's spilling water, I spray Shanice. She releases a loud squeal.
"What the fuck," she roars, falling back. Offering me the perfect opportunity to stand up while smashing her body against mine. She matches my gaze with fierce intensity. "You messed up my hair!" she bellows.
"So did you," I return. A beat of silence goes by when my phone blares from the steps of my back porch. When I focus back on Shanice, the sneaky Kitten has already escaped my hold.
Ambling back towards my side of the fence, I pick up the phone, and an unknown number pops on the screen. I reject the call. But as soon as I do, it calls again. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I answer.
"Nate? Are you there?" My mother's panic voice comes through.
"Why the fuck are you calling me!" The woman has terrible timing.
YOU ARE READING
Dead-Eye Angels MC (Book #1)
ChickLitShanice Wilson, born and raised in Harlem, moves to Atlanta for her new job. The company sets her up in a lovely cul-de-sac in an almost deserted part of the suburbs. Nate Dylan is the president of the Dead-Eye Angels MC. He rides with his buddies...
