Read Online Storm: (Blood Legion MC) (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 3) by Rie Warren - Free Book Online Page B

scrub, all the personals attended to in under ten minutes.
    Leathers buttoned, boots shoved on, shirt filled out by my shoulders and chest, I stopped only to stow my gear in the bedroom.
    Blaize sniffle-snored away, totally oblivious.
    Bet she didn’t let that happen often.
    Downstairs, the barroom was shiny and clean from last night’s late night debauchery.
    I scratched my chin.
    Huh. Must be a new prospect in the Legion.
    Cleanliness is close to godliness was not the MC’s motto.
    As predicted, Solomon sat on a chair outside Thunder Road’s front doors. He was eating a plate of savory smelling sausage he must’ve cooked up on the grill right next to him.
    “Mornin’.” I lit a cigarette.
    “ Mm hmm. It be a fine one.” He chewed slowly and swallowed. “Dat wildcat din’t scritch you up last night?”
    “ Oh, I tamed her.”
    He laughed.
    I sat on the step beside him. “How you been, Solomon?”
    “I got dem rickets and arth’ritis and maybe some crickets in my eardrums too, but I ain’t one takin’ to complainin’.”
    “Venom treat you okay?” I glanced at the man who sawed a toothpick between his teeth.
    “He ain’t like Ange’s papa. Ain’t so bad either. He let me do my thing. Take care of y’all. Gives me a place. Dat all I want.”
    I inhaled deeply from my glowing cigarette. “I hear that. We all need a place.”
    “Ain’t that the thing?”
    “Can you do me a favor?”
    “Does a fart float in water?”
    “Probably if it’s down by the docks.”
    “Ain’t that the truth?” He slapped his thigh. “What you need?”
    “Just hang out by my bedroom ’til I get back? The old lady might’ve pissed a few folks off last night.”
    “Sho’do. Head on up there right now. Just need somethin’ to grease my wheels.” He reached for a flask.
    “I thought you said those were demon spirits.” I stood beside him as he got upright, his knees cracking.
    Sol rattled the silver flask. “Demon spirit at the witching hour. Little motivation in the mornin’.”
    I set off down the road on foot after looking over my Harley standing in a long file of other roadbeasts. The sun warmed the seat, and the helmets still hung in place on the ape hangers.
    It only took twenty minutes to reach my destination and wander back to Thunder Road. The place was still shut up and quiet as a whorehouse during matins . Upstairs, as expected, Solomon sat on a chair beside my door.
    “The mussus ain’t stirred one bit.” His tough, asbestos-like palm met mine. “You a good man, Storm.”
    I closed the bedroom door quietly behind me, barely rustling the paper bag filled with aromatic pastries. Lounging against the doorframe, I waited until the scent of java woke Blaize.
    Her nose wrinkled. She inhaled deeply. Her eyes popped open, and she propped up on my side of the bed brandishing her Walther.
    “Damn, cher . Remind me not to sneak attack you again with beignets.”
    “Beignets?” She hit the safety and placed the pistol aside. Pushing strands of bright red hair from her eyes, she sniffed again. “Does that mean breakfast?”
    I pushed off the wall with an indulgent smile. “Peace offering?”
    “Wait. How did I end up in bed?”
    “You came crawlin’ for me.” I strolled closer.
    “No way.” Blaize pulled the covers up to her waist.
    Too bad I’d seen a lot of the goods last night.
    “As the superior officer I thought you should have the bed?”
    “Why does it smell like you?” Her cheeks flushed, and her gaze skittered aside.
    “I slept beside you. And you wrapped your body right around me. Your leg over mine. Your lips at my neck.” I sat down next to her. “Had to shuffle out from beneath you earlier, in fact.”
    She went rigid then lifted the blankets, peering down inside. I cocked my head and did the same damn thing.
    She snapped the bedding up to her chin. “Where are the rest of my clothes?”
    “Oh hell no. Can’t blame that on me. You got undressed right in front of me. Nice ass,