Read Online Off Limits: A Bedlam Butchers MC Romance (The Motorcycle Clubs Book 2) by Ruby Dixon - Free Book Online

lunges for him again, and again, Solo sways out of his reach.
    Then, he turns, and quick as anything, he plants a bare fist into Grass’s face.
    The Henchman reels, blood spurting from his mouth, and everyone on the front row takes a collective step backward to avoid being spattered. Grass clings to the ropes, wipes his mouth, and turns around to go at Solo again. He lands a glancing hit, but Solo quickly shakes it off and keeps moving.
    Hits are traded back and forth, but it’s clear that Solo can run circles around Grass. The Henchman is fit, but Solo’s built like a prizefighter and it’s clear he’s done this sort of thing before. My heart hammers as he decks Grass across the face, and the other man flies around and lands on the mat, hard. But then he gets up again, and the dance starts over. Swing, feint, hit, recover.
    The next time he’s down, Grass grabs at Solo’s legs and manages to knock him off his feet. I gasp as Eric flies down to the mat, and then the men are tumbling together, hands flying. I barely know where to look as they roll across the mat.
    But then Eric’s sitting on top of Grass’s chest, and he plows a fist into the man’s face. Once, twice, three times. The third time, I hear something crack and blood sprays across the both the mat and Solo.
    Grass screams in pain, and his hands go to his face. “You broke my fucking nose!”
    “Good,” Solo snarls. He gets off of the other man as Gem and the enforcers enter the ring. But instead of letting Grass go, he flips him over and grinds his face into the mat, and Grass screams again as his broken face is slammed hard against the ring again. “You touch Lucky again, and I’m going to break every goddamn bone in your body. You hear me?”
    They pull him off before Grass can answer, but it’s clear from Solo’s body language that he means it. I’m breathless with excitement as he scans the audience, looking for my face. He’s covered in blood and sweat and he’s got bruises purpling on his face…
    And I want to fuck the hell out of him.
    He bounds down to my side and it’s clear I’m not the only one on an adrenaline spike at the moment. I hold out his cut for him, but he ignores it and grabs me, instead. He drags me against him for a kiss, and his lip is split and he’s bleeding and I totally don’t care. I wrap a leg around him and he hikes me up around his hips and we could go at it right there and I wouldn’t care.
    “Gem’s got an office, right? Cause I need to fuck you right about now.”
    “In the back,” I pant. And I need to be fucked, too.
    People are whistling and slapping Solo on the back as we make out and stagger toward the back office. It’s not an easy thing to do when the entire Meat Locker is full of bikers hopped up on all kinds of shit, but we manage to fumble to the back, and there’s the door. Solo tries the handle. Locked. “Fuck,” he snarls.
    “Got a pressie from the pressies,” calls a voice, and I look over Solo’s shoulder to where Kitty is standing, a knowing grin on her face. She’s dangling the keys from one hand. Then she winks and tosses them to me. “You’re welcome.”
    I catch them and search the ring for the right key. My fingers are trembling with need, and Solo’s hot body is pressing me up against the door, as if he’s going to fuck me against it if I don’t open the office ASAP. He just might.
    But then the key turns in the lock and we fall inside. Gem’s desk is covered in papers, and I hesitate. “Where—”
    Solo slams the door shut and locks it. Then, he turns me and pushes me down on the desk, my belly on a stack of invoices. “Right fucking here, babe.” His fingers rip at my shorts, and the laces fall apart again. Then, he’s dragging them down my hips, and I barely have time to bite my lip before he’s unbuckled his pants.
    And then he shoves into me, hard and huge. I cry out because God, it feels incredible.
    “You on the pill?” he asks hoarsely. When I nod,