Dead-Eye Angels MC (Book #1)

Chapter 29: ⍲Scared Hellcat ⍲

Nate's POV

"Nate! Oh, fuck yeah!" The broad screams out when I yank her nipple ring and suck on her tit. I pound into her with all my might, desperate to bust a nut. But it's impossible to concentrate. My gaze wanders to the walls, ceiling, anywhere but her face.

"Keep it coming, baby!" The chick's squeals pierce my ears, drowning out the sound of my grunts as I slam into her snatch. I can't help but shake my head. This bitch is even more of a fake screamer than Stacey.

Each moan she lets out makes my dick softer than a melted popsicle on a hot summer day. I can't take it no more and shove the fucking bitch off my bed.

She falls on her bony ass but doesn't say a thing. Instead, she rubs her hip.

"Get the fuck out of here. I don't know what the fuck Daniel sees in you. You're uglier than a mud fence and even worse in bed." Her eyes glisten with tears, but I ain't falling for it. I rip the condom off my dick and toss it at her feet.

My muscles tighten like a coiled rattlesnake as she stares me down with those deep brown eyes. "What the fuck are you still doing here? Get the fuck out!" My voice is thick with anger, making her scramble to collect her things before bolting out of my room.

"Fucking cunt. Can't even be a decent whore," I mutter as the party downstairs echoes through the walls.

"And shut the damn door!" I bellow, my voice carrying over the thumping bass.

The door slams shut on its own, leaving me alone in my room with nothing but the faded posters of naked women riding motorcycles to keep me company. I shuffle over to my dresser and slip on a pair of boxers, my mind already dreading the night.

"Another fucking cold shower tonight," I grumble to myself, feeling the familiar frustration building inside me. The line of white powder on the dresser taunts me, begging me to take another hit. Without a second thought, I snort it up my nose.

"Shit." The cocaine hits me like a sledgehammer to the skull. My heart races, my skin tingles, and my thoughts spiral out of control. But at the same time it also calms my mind. "The Colombians know their shit," I mutter through clenched teeth.

A flicker of movement outside my window catches my eye, and I bolt toward it like a fucking puppy. But there's nothing there. Just the empty house next door, mocking me with its silence. The crushing weight that I've become used to settles on my shoulders.

"I'm not coming back, biker," Shanice's voice is like honey and gravel mixed together, rough and smooth, ending each sentence with a sassy, knowing tone. Even if she's hurling insults at me.

"Fuck this shit," I mutter angrily as I put on the rest of my clothes and storm out of the damn place.

But before I reach the front door, some ditzy house mouse jumps on me. Her breath reeks of cheap beer and stale cigarettes, making me want to gag. "Hi, Nate?" she says in a whiny voice.

Kade pushes her off me like she's a pesky fly. "Move. I need to talk to the President," he growls.

I finally make it outside, hoping to escape Kade's annoying ass. "I don't have time for whatever bullshit you wanna talk about," I say, the frustration clear in my voice. But the stubborn motherfucker just won't leave me alone.

"Nate, we need to talk now!" he insists, his voice grating on my nerves.

I spin around and come face-to-face with my VP and best friend. "What the fuck do you want now?" I yell, causing some people nearby to stare. Kade claps my shoulder and pulls me away from the eavesdroppers. "So you're screwing around with one of our brothers' women now?" he accuses.