Heart Ripper – Chapter 1



Raja always stuck out like a sore thumb in a crowd of people with skin ranging from pinkish white in winter to golden in the summer. His hair was as black as crow feathers and very thick, while many of his brothers were losing the fight against male pattern baldness. He was also openly gay among bikers, something that was thankfully not that big of a deal at this party.

He sat on a simple wooden chair and sipped beer from a bottle, watching his men socialize with Detroit’s Coffin Nails. The party was much less rowdy than the ones Raja was used to, but it was being thrown for a newborn after all. Still, with both the little boy’s father and grandfather being bikers, many of the family and friends gathered wore leather, rock and roll was the background music, and beer was the beverage of choice. The large, open-plan living room was jam-packed with people celebrating the first grandson of Priest, the president of the Detroit chapter of Coffin Nails MC. With the drinking intensifying and the volume of the music getting turned up, the young mother and baby would soon be retreating upstairs anyway.

As the president of the nearby Coffin Nails MC chapter in Toledo, Raja was one of the first to congratulate Priest on the grandson, but despite the man being courteous and respectful, there was a disconnect between them that was eating at Raja’s gut. He had no idea if the man was racist, homophobic, or just didn’t like the brand of beer Raja was drinking, but if Raja wanted his tiny chapter to matter, he needed to earn Priest’s trust. There was enough bad blood still remaining after Raja’s former president attacked the Detroit Nails, with bloody consequences to influence the relationship between the chapters.

“You look so young for a club president!” came from the side, and a young guy with long blond hair and a Motörhead T-shirt came up to him holding a tray of shots. “I’m Lucky. You must be Raja.” He smiled widely, and Raja couldn’t help but let his gaze trail down the long legs in tight skinny jeans.

He smiled and slowly got to his feet, looking at the pretty guy from above. “I think I might be the lucky one.”

“You will be when you have this drink.” Lucky passed him a blue shot. “I call it Vodka Hell.” With the Coffin Nails Detroit VP being openly gay, it was no surprise there would be gay men among the hangarounds, battling the women for biker meat, but this one was a particularly fine specimen.

Raja brushed his fingertips over Lucky’s as he took the shot, his eyes never leaving the guy’s blue gaze. He didn’t care this was a baby-welcome party. If this pretty boy was flirting with him, there was no reason to back away. “What’s in it?”

“UV Blue vodka. It might make your piss glow in the dark.” Lucky’s smile widened, and Raja took half a step closer before chugging the shot in one go. It burned as it passed through his throat, but he did his best and smiled at Lucky when he put the shot glass back on the tray.

“Is that an excuse to follow bikers to the bathroom?”

“We should have a contest by the end of the night and see whose piss glows most.” Lucky downed a shot himself, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously in front of Raja’s face. It was juicy enough to bite into, and Raja pulled on a strand of Lucky’s blond hair discreetly.

“You and I could have it very soon.”

Lucky snorted, and his pupils widened. “Not while the baby is still here!” He slapped Raja’s arm. “On another note, do you have a regular barber to care for your beard?” He reached out to the curled tips of Raja’s bushy moustache. “I own a barber shop nearby, I’d love to give you a discount.”

Raja inhaled the scent of vodka and oranges that clung to Lucky’s fingers, but he looked away from the boy the moment he spotted a tall presence approaching them. Tooth, the vice president of Coffin Nails Detroit, was storming Raja’s way, his long hair and thick beard making him look menacing even at a party like this one.

Lucky followed Raja’s gaze, but when he turned around, Raja froze, trying not to let any of his throat-clenching anxiety come to the surface. He was fucked. The patches on the back of Lucky’s vest read Property of Tooth. Did the little fucker get a kick out of being a cocktease?

Tooth seemed even taller when he stood so close to Raja, and his gaze burned like acid thrown into Raja’s face. “I see you already met my property,” he said, lowering his eyes at Lucky, who just smiled innocently.

“I was just telling Raja he should visit my shop. Tooth’s a regular.” He reached up and petted Tooth’s beard. It was like seeing a kitten knead a lion’s mane.

Raja nodded at Tooth, watching the man’s thick hands squeezing Lucky’s arms and pulling him closer. If there was something Raja really didn’t want to happen, it was his relationship with the only openly gay biker in the area going sour. It was Tooth who spared Raja the necessity of coming up with something that was apologetic without sounding like a pussy.

“It’s fine. This boy here really wants to earn a spanking,” Tooth said, shooting Lucky a dark glance.

Lucky pouted and rolled his eyes. “Jeez, I was just being friendly, handing out drinks and all that.”

“Sure you were,” said Tooth.

Over Lucky’s shoulder, a pair of green eyes met Raja’s and instantly looked away. If Raja considered himself a bit of an outsider, the young guy wallflowering with a Coke was like an alien from another planet in his white, buttoned-up shirt and a stripy blue tie to match his cardigan.

“It’s called networking,” Lucky grumbled.

Tooth frowned at him, but he didn’t seem overly bothered by Lucky’s behavior, so maybe it was the boy’s usual style to blatantly flirt with guys while his man was around. Talk about keeping the temperature boiling in the relationship…

Tooth shook his head with a crooked smirk and sent Lucky on his way with a slap on the ass. “He can be a pest, but he’s a damn good barber. You should take him up on that invitation.”

Raja relaxed and drank some of his beer, keeping Tooth’s gaze. It was the first time they got to talk that day, and it had been eating at him for hours. With the Toledo chapter being desperately short on men since their patchover into Coffin Nails, Raja was getting increasingly nervous about their dependence on the Detroit chapter. They needed to bring something to the table if they wanted to become more independent and gain respect within the larger Coffin Nails organization. A good relationship between the chapters was a start, and with Tooth also being gay, Raja felt much more at ease talking to him than Priest.

“I just might. My beard’s getting unruly.”

Tooth nodded. “How about you come over in a few days. We can talk without all those distractions,” he said, moving his hand around the living room.

“Sure. I’ll let you know.”

Blade waved at Raja from a table on the other side of the room. The guy had a beer in hand and seemed to be the life of the party consisting of the three other men from their chapter and a few female hangarounds, who kept breaking out in loud laughs. Raja’s VP, Spin, was there as well, spilling beer all over his long white beard. Hunter, who used to be a part of their chapter, was too busy with his girlfriend and their newborn baby to go join them.

Tooth raised his beer with a small smile and walked off to a different group of people. Raja glanced at the guy in the cardigan, and caught him staring again. Could he be Lucky’s friend? He had a pretty face with an angular jaw, symmetrical features, and wavy light brown hair in a tidy undercut. Raja winked at him, with a smile spreading across his face when the guy flushed so rapidly it looked as if someone had steamed him with hot vapor.

Just as Raja was considering his chances with the All-American looking twink, Blade came up and obscured the boy with his powerful chest. He pushed some of his greasy long hair back and passed Raja another chilled beer.

“Saw you making friends with all the gays.” Blade snorted and elbowed Raja as if his joke was a good one.

“Not all of them,” said Raja, letting the comment slide. He figured that his brothers’ acceptance of him in a position of power was good enough as a sign of approval. He’d let them have their fun, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have any himself.

Blade raised his eyebrows with a grin. “Oh, yeah? Who else?” He turned around to stand arm to arm with Raja.

“That preppy boy on the other side of the room. I bet there’s more.”

The boy insistently stared at his Coke, red as a lobster.

“You think he’s gay? Now that I think of it, it’s a bit shit to be gay. Such a small pool to choose from.”

Irritation flared up underneath Raja’s skin, but he didn’t lose his smile. “Might be a smaller pool, but everyone’s up for the taking. I could get my hands on any gay man here—well, except for Tooth and his boy—and have my cock buried in their mouth up to the balls within fifteen minutes,” he said, knowing the explicit language would make Blade uncomfortable.

Blade took a big gulp of beer, and Raja was hoping it was to mask that he didn’t know what to say to that. “Yeah, right,” he mumbled in the end. “I bet you couldn’t get anywhere with that choir boy over there.” He discreetly pointed to the cutie with his can.

Raja studied the red skin on the boy’s exposed neck, and there it was, the guy glanced up at him again. His body language spoke of shyness, but his eyes were telling a different story, even if the boy did look away quickly. He bit that plump mouth, watching his drink as if it could somehow save him from Raja’s grabby hands.

“No, I totally could. He’s one of those guys who want to be approached, and as soon as they can, they drop to their knees, ready to service you,” said Raja, taking a swig of his beer. “It’s much easier than it is for you straight guys.”

Blade shook his head. “I bet you a bike wash you can’t get a blowjob out of him. He’s got virgin-forever painted all over his face.”

Raja let out a sharp laugh, watching his friend in surprise. He hadn’t thought Blade would actually dare him to debauch that little lamb. “Deal,” he said, offering Blade his hand.

Blade laughed and shook it. “You’re one cocky bastard.”

As if sensing the delicious danger on his heels, the young guy put away his empty glass and turned around to leave the room. That was Raja’s cue. He winked at Blade and handed him the beer, following the boy as quickly as he could get away with without catching anyone’s attention. The blue cardigan stood out like a sore thumb in a room full of leather and dark denim, and Raja stayed on its track like a lion waiting for the young gazelle to part from its herd.





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