Bad Deal (Belikov Crime Family Book 1)

  Bad Deal

  Faith Ryan & Ember-Raine Winters

  Bad Deal (Belikov Crime Family 1)

  Copyright © 2019 Faith Ryan & Ember-Raine Winters

  Cover Design: Always Inked

  Editor: Randie Creamer

  Formatter: Ember-Raine Winters

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  JR

  Who the fuck would have thought that a duffle bag full of coke would be so Goddamn heavy? I swear my shoulder dislocated when the strap shifted on my leather jacket. Truth be told, it's not the bag of coke I’m carrying, or even my own bag, but Scar’s twenty bags that are the heaviest. Okay, so twenty is an exaggeration but it’s not far off; the motherfucker brought more for this overnight drop-off than he did when we went on vacation in the Caribbean last year.

  “Did you bring your whole damn closet, Scar?” I ask as he exits the elevator ahead of me, since he has the room key. He doesn’t bother looking back, just raises a one finger salute as I struggle to catch up before the doors close on me.

  Once in the hall, I follow Scar to our room and admire the view of his ass as I go. This motel isn’t anything special and we could have afforded better, but this was chosen by the buyer, Viktor Belikov, to keep us and the goods under the radar. While I’ve been an unofficial member of the Devil’s Mongrels MC since becoming friends with Scar at sixteen, I’m still working on becoming more than a prospect. Benjamin “Benny” Reyes, the president of the club and Scar’s uncle, has given both of us this chance to prove ourselves.

  Oscar “Scar” Reyes may be like a son to Benny, having been raised under him and the club after his parents’ deaths, but that doesn’t mean he gets shit handed to him. Scar and I are equals in Benny’s eyes, something Scar detests quite vocally at times.

  I continue to watch Scar’s ass sway with every step as we proceed down the long hall, our room being at the end by the stairwell per Benny’s request. If things go south, he wants us to be able to hightail it out of here with no problem.

  Finally reaching our room, I wait impatiently for Scar to open the fucking door. I watch the light turn green after he swipes, pushing the handle down and the door an inch inward. He stops and looks at me with mischief in his eyes.

  “Jake.” He’s the only one that can get away with calling me that. My name isn’t horrible, Jacoby Elliott Richards. Okay Elliott is pretty bad I admit, but as okay as my name is, I much prefer the nickname JR that Benny gave me. It fits my MC persona, and seeing as that persona is who I am, I insist on using the name. But Scar can call me whatever he wants, and he knows it.

  “Earth to Jake.” Scar snaps his fingers in my face and smirks. “You were watching my ass again, weren’t you?”

  I roll my eyes as he laughs. He knows I always take in his gorgeous body whenever I can. I’m not ashamed about who I am, I like dick, a lot. Scar, however, does not. As much as I wish he did, he is as straight as an arrow—and engaged to boot.

  My sexual orientation has never been an issue between us, and the club seems to take it in stride, something I will forever be grateful for considering my parents shoved me out on the streets when they found out. Lucky for me, Scar found me and took me under his wing before I had to resort to prostitution in order to eat. I might not have had to go that far to survive, but I still did some shitty things to be able to make it to the next day.

  “Can we just get inside before my arms fall off?” I push him forward and into the entryway and drop the bags onto the floor before the door clicks closed.

  Shaking out my arms to get the blood flowing and some feeling back, I slowly take in the room. There are standard motel furnishings: dresser, TV, small table, and those ridiculously uncomfortable wooden chairs with burgundy cushions, and nightstands with bolted lamps attached on either side of the bed. The thing that grabs and holds my attention the most is the bed. As in singular.

  “Uh, Scar, why is there only one bed?”

  “Huh?” He takes his eyes off his phone, where they’ve been glued while I did my surveillance. “Oh, yeah, Uncle Benny said it was all they had available. I figured it didn’t matter since we’ve shared before and odds are good we won’t sleep or at least I won’t. There’s a bar next door where the waitresses go topless. But don’t worry, I won’t bring anyone back.”

  I’m a little disappointed, not about the single bed, but I had hoped I would get to spend some time with Scar as friends. After his birthday a few months back, he's been extremely busy. Twenty-one means he is legal in all ways that count, and he’s been making the most of it, without me. Instead he chooses to spend most of his time with his fiancée, Rosa.

  I make a quick decision. “I’ll come with.”

  “Jake, this isn’t your kind of place.” He grabs his cock in emphasis.

  “That’s fine.” I wave his comment off and grab our bags and the duffle, tossing them on the bed. “I just want to unwind, have a beer or two. I’ll probably be ready to pass out in an hour.”

  I am already tired, but I want this time with my best friend. Even if it is only an hour.

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll make sure you have fun, Jake. I get the shower first.” He strips his shirt off and tosses it in the vicinity of our bags on his way to the bathroom. I barely get a glimpse of his tanned back before he closes the door and the water sputters to life.

  ******

  We’ve been in the bar ten minutes, Scar’s curses filling the air for the past nine. Doesn’t take a genius to know that Bear and Ronnie, two senior MC members, set Scar up. They know the area well, and as part of the planning crew, they obviously saw an opportunity to have a little fun by suggesting this bar. Our beers were indeed delivered by a topless flirt, but one who was very much a male and not the big tittied floozy Scar was looking forward to.

  “Why the fuck would they send me to a gay bar? I’m engaged to Rosa. The fuckers know I like pussy.” Scar questions again and if it’s possible, the incredulity is greater than it was five seconds ago.

  “Maybe they were thinking of me.” I throw my head back and laugh harder than I have in a long time at the glare he sends my way. “Come on, it makes sense. You get laid on the regular with Rosa. I haven’t fucked someone in months.”

  Scar stares at me for a long minute, his blue eyes taking in my face before he comes to some kind of decision. With a nod he scoots his stool away from the high-top table and heads in the direction of the jukebox.

  I watch his ass again, shamelessly. He is wearing faded blue jeans, so well worn they almost look white, a plain black T-shirt that hugs his torso and his black boots. Simple. Ordinary. Scar isn’t what I would consider my type, but for some reason I’ve always wanted a chance with him. A chance I know I’ll never get. Part of me knows that is the reason for the attraction. Can’t be disappointed by someone you can’t have.

  Another part of me thinks it’s hero worship. He saved me from a horrible life. He and Benny took me in and treated me like I mattered. I would do anything for them. Anything.

  Scar heads to the bar as an old school Aerosmith song blasts out its first notes. I smile and shake my head at him carrying over a couple shots and dancing without any rhythm.

  “What? There might not be any breasts swaying in my face tonight, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun and get wasted with my best bro.” He slams his shot back then hands me mine. “Come on, Jake, let’s get our drink on.”

  I down my shot and Scar waves at the bartender for another round. Fuck it. I’m going to enjoy this night with my best friend, even if I have to down shots for
hours to keep myself from making a pass at the sexiest straight guy I know.

  ******

  I’m slammed face first into the motel door as soon as it closes. The shots we did at the bar numb any pain there might have been. That and the hard cock pressing into my back has my brain short-circuiting, sending tiny electrical shocks straight to my balls.

  “I’m gonna fuck you so good.” The words are growled into my ear at the same moment hands tug open my jeans and shove them halfway down my thighs. I grunt an impatient sound, words beyond me as lust takes over.

  I hear a pop and the metallic teeth of another zipper being lowered, the crinkle of a wrapper and then a hard length rolls sensually along my ass crack. Back and forth, over and over. Heating me up in the best way.

  “Fuck, hold on, man. I need to get some lube.” Cold rushes over my body, but before the chill can settle beneath my skin, the warmth is back. There’s a snap of a cap, a squirt, and the cool feel of the lube between my cheeks. Another squirt and the bottle is tossed to the floor.

  All I can hear is my rapid breaths and the slick slide of a hand on skin, or more accurately, latex. I’m so close to begging for what I want when a finger trails through the warming slickness of my crack and circles my hole. It just keeps circling and my buzzing mind makes it feel like the most erotic sensation I’ve ever experienced, but I need more. I begin to thrust my hips, trying to sink that finger inside where I need it, growling when it moves away at my movements.

  “Impatient, Jake?”

  Oh God, two words spoken in his raspy, lust-filled voice, and I almost can’t hold back the orgasm that threatens to explode from me. I don’t know how we got here; the last thing I remember is downing shots in the gay bar next door. Truth is, I don’t care, this is probably a dream anyway, but dream or reality I would never deny Scar the use of my body.

  “Please.” I barely breathe the word and he gives me what I want. First one then two fingers pushing deep, stretching me with the promise of more, of something better.

  “Damn, you’re tight. I can’t wait to feel all that tightness squeezing me just right. You want that, Jake, want me pounding that tight ass?” Scar asks as he pulls his fingers out and teases me with the head of his cock.

  “Yes, oh God yes, now, Scar, please,” I beg. I want him inside me when I blow, but I don’t know how much longer I can hold off my release. Luckily, he takes pity on me, or maybe he’s just as desperate and enters me in one hard thrust.

  He’s above average and there is a hint of pain, not enough to override the pleasure, just a bite to add to the overwhelming intensity of actually having Scar deep inside me. He doesn’t wait for me to adjust to his size and begins a rough, almost violent intimate dance with my body.

  “Fuck, that feels good. You like my cock up your ass, Jake?” I can’t answer, his thrusts robbing me of breath and thought. All I can do is feel as he continues to throw dirty, vulgar words at me. A few more strokes against my most sensitive spot and I let go, clenching around Scar sending him flying off the edge with me.

  ******

  Shuffling and whispers wake me and I squint at the clock, but my vision is still blurry from all the alcohol that Scar fed me last night. I groan and roll over intent on asking Scar to quiet down so I can get some more sleep before the drop-off time.

  “Shit, he’s waking up,” an unrecognizable voice grumbles.

  “Shut it,” Scar snaps, then the bed dips and his hand brushes my hair out of my face. I really should get it cut, but I like the shoulder length locks. And the fact that I am thinking about my hair while Scar caresses my jaw means I’m really out of it.

  “Shhh, Jake. Go back to sleep. I rode you hard last night, you need your rest.” He smiles then kisses my forehead.

  “Is someone here? I thought I heard someone.” I fight the sleep that’s pulling me under but close my eyes and relax into Scar’s touch.

  “No, you must have heard me on the phone. Rosa called, she misses me.” He snorts, then presses a gentle kiss to my lips. “Go back to sleep, Jake. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

  I don’t fight it this time and drift off.

  I don’t open my eyes again until I’m shoved off the bed.

  “What the fuck, Scar?” I scramble to untangle myself from the sheet that is now twisted around my legs, preventing me from standing.

  “It’s not here, boss.” A voice calls from the other side of the room.

  I stop struggling with the sheets and look up into the face of an unknown man. He’s handsome, in an older distinguished kind of way, dressed in a sharp gray suit, black button-down shirt and blood-red tie.

  “First you don’t show for the drop off and now, you don’t have my goods. The strikes are adding up against you, boy.”

  My eyes widen at the realization of who is standing before me. Viktor Belikov. He’s the brother to the head of the Belikov family; both are known as vicious and sadistic men. After the shock that one of the Belikov brothers is in my motel room wears off, his words register in my foggy brain.

  I glance at the clock and the green glowing numbers show 1:13 in the afternoon, confirming what he said. I missed the drop off at ten, by three fucking hours. Shit. Why didn’t Scar wake me? The thought of Scar has my gaze shifting to the bed, then around the room. Drawers hang open and my clothes have been thrown haphazardly all over the floor. But I don’t see Scar anywhere.

  “No excuses? We’ll get it out of you one way or another.” Viktor turns to his goon, gesturing back in my direction. “Bring him.”

  I watch his retreating back trying to figure out what the fuck just happened, when pain bursts across the back of my head.

  Chapter 2

  Ruslan

  “Idiots.” Viktor booms through the club. It’s day time so the lights are turned up and the three stages that spread across the space for the dancers are empty. “Damn American morons.” I shake my head at my brother’s antics. Yes, I’m pissed about the drug deal gone bad. They had one job. Either they made off with the drugs or they got careless, either way, the kid is going to pay.

  “Get Benny on the phone now. Something doesn’t add up here,” I say to Dimitri, who is standing by watching Viktor rage with a raised eyebrow.

  “He’s on his way here now, boss,” Dimitri says quietly.

  “Good. I’m going to pay our guest a visit.” I can feel my malicious smile as I walk from the room. I’m hardening just thinking about what I’m going to do to his sweet body. Benny will hand the kid over to me. There is no doubt about it. If he wants to keep operating in my town, he will do exactly as I say.

  My sadistic chuckle fills the basement. Poor kid has no idea what he’s in for. When I get to the corner, he isn’t shying away from me. He looks me up and down brazenly, and I stand there letting him look all he wants before my hand snaps out and I grab a handful of his hair pulling him up by it. The kid doesn’t even flinch. I’m impressed. If I didn’t have to punish him for his incompetence, I would rather enjoy playing with him.

  “What is your name?” I lay on the Russian accent a little thicker than normal. His nostrils flare and I’m not sure if it’s from anger or lust.

  “JR,” he grits out between his teeth.

  “Not the asinine nickname those mongrels gave you. Your real name,” I say getting right in his face. My brother found him asleep in the motel room, so he didn’t even bother to get clothes before knocking him out and dragging him to the basement of the club, then chaining him up in the corner. A fact which is becoming painfully obvious as I stare at his mostly naked body so close to me.

  “Jacoby,” he whispers.

  “Well, Jacoby,” I purr, “where is my cocaine?”

  “I don’t know.” He stares me straight in the eye. The boy must have a death wish. I’ve killed men for less and let’s just say a duffel bag full of cocaine? I’d take down his entire motorcycle club for that.

  “Your bravery will not help you here. I will find out what happened to my drugs. I can make it painful or pleasant. Which will it be?” I grab his stiff cock through his underwear and his eyes light with lust. I squeeze him in my hand, hard. He doesn’t look away or even make a noise. Interesting.