Wirth (Dirty Aces MC Book 5), Lane Hart [best ebook reader ubuntu .txt] 📗

cause won’t stand a chance of surviving without every last man protecting it.”

“How long will it take to get rid of the new guys?” I ask.

Cormac shrugs a shoulder casually under his suit jacket. “I don’t want to underestimate our new foe. It could take a year, maybe more. Quick or drawn out, either way, we’re looking at a bloody war.”

Fuck. War is exactly what I’m trying to avoid! What good will our deal be if Rian ends up dead before I get him out of Cormac’s grasp?

“Unless…” Cormac drawls.

“Unless what?” I ask.

His green, up-to-no-good, eyes assess me from the top of my long, straight, dirty blonde hair to the toes of my sneakers.

“You’re a sexy girl, Maeve.”

“And?” I scoff, crossing my arms under my chest indignantly. Men have told me the same thing for years. It’s not a compliment, but basically them saying I’m only good for one thing. Besides, there is no way I would sleep with Cormac.

“And if you were to use your beauty and sex appeal to charm our new enemies, you could be our little Trojan horse, speeding things along from the inside. So, tell me, how far are you willing to go to save your brother?”

“As far as I have to go,” I assure him. That’s the truth. While I may only be six years older than Rian, I’ve been more of a mother to him than a sister. I enjoyed taking care of him, protecting him while we were growing up. If I hadn’t, who would have? Certainly not our father who only had children to make an heir for the family business. He didn’t love either of our mothers, and they obviously didn’t care for us if they were willing to hand over their babies to him rather than stick around.

If I had been a boy, I probably would’ve been an only child, so I’m glad I wasn’t. For eighteen years, Rian has been all that I have in this world, so I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep him safe.

Chapter One

Wirth Wright

I’m running late to the patch-over party in Wilmington on purpose. I took my damn sweet time disassembling a Porsche that someone brought to the shop this morning for some quick cash. Socializing has never been my strong suit. I prefer spending time with cars and motorcycles in the garage. Vehicles are easy to get along with compared to people – women especially. I always know what to expect when I’m under the hood. Cars have never revved me up and then left me high and dry. Unlike pussy, I can always fit inside of a car, even the tiny ones if I push the seat back as far as it goes. Automobiles are accommodating while most females are not, no matter how much time I spend…aligning their gears beforehand.

So fine, I’m cranky and horny as hell! That’s because I haven’t had a good fuck in months. Months! But what else is new? Most men would think being well endowed is a blessing, but for me it’s a curse that dates back to high school. There I tried for four years to lose my virginity, getting close no less than six times. I always ended up sending the girls running.

I can count on one hand how many times I’ve actually finished inside of a woman in all of my twenty-five years. The number of mouths to finish me has only been maybe twice that amount, and usually they have me come on their tits or face, rarely down their throat.

Tonight, I’m sure there will be plenty of pussy for the other men, but none that can handle me. So, once I get to the bar, I’ll be on my own for the rest of the night. All but one of my brothers in the Dirty Aces MC have settled down for good, so they’ll be cozied up with their old ladies. And while Fiasco may always be good for a few laughs, he’s no doubt already balls deep in the first woman he met at the Knights of Wrath’s party. Unlike me, Fiasco doesn’t need the jaws of life to wedge his dick into a tight cunt.

I probably should’ve just stayed at the shop working rather than make the half-hour drive. It’s not like I even voted to let these guys wear our patch.

A year or so ago, all six of us voted against patching the Knights of Wrath in because they were deep in the black tar market and their ancient president was a humongous dick.

Over the last few months, though, crazy old Bobby G. did a little too much of his own heroin and croaked, putting Hunt in charge.

The Dirty Aces voted again recently, and a majority agreed to patch the Knights over if, and only if, they were willing to set up shop in Wilmington to help out with our speed and gambling enterprises there. We didn’t think they would actually take us up on the offer; but apparently, they all wanted a fresh start in a new city. Which leads us to the patching over tonight.

The sun set hours ago, but that’s fine with me. I enjoy riding west through the cool summer nights on my new Yamaha without the sun blinding me. The pavement below my tires and the trees on either side of the highway are nothing but inky blurs as I open the throttle as far as it will go until I have to slow up to take my exit.

It’s there at the top of the dark ramp that I see a car pulled over onto the grass – a little white car that glows under the light of the moon. It only takes a second to determine it’s a Honda Accord.

My first thought is that, if it’s still there tomorrow, I’ll send our tow truck out to haul it back. Honda parts are a big seller and one of the easiest cars to move through the chop