Royally Tempted (A Royal Sons MC Book 3) Read online

  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

  Thank You

  Royally Treasured

  About Elle Boon

  Other Books by Elle Boon

  Elle Boon

  By Elle Boon [email protected]

  © Copyright 2019 Elle Boon

  All cover art and logos © Copyright 2019 by Furious Photography

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by: Furious Photography

  Royally Tempted

  A Royal Sons MC Novel 3

  Copyright © 2019 Elle Boon

  First E-book Publication: 2019

  Cover design by Furious Photography

  Edited by: Tracy Roelle

  All cover art and logo copyright © Furious Photography

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER: Elle Boon

  Dedication

  I’d like to dedicate this story to the men, women, and children who are victims, have been victims, and the family members of victims of human trafficking. Each year, these numbers become more staggering and to me more devastating as they continue to rise by the thousands.

  There have been over ten thousand nine hundred and forty nine human traffic cases reported in 2018 with the total expected to rise in 2019.

  Victims and Survivors Identified!

  High Indicators 14,701

  Moderate Indicators 21,864

  Calls From Victims & Survivors 7,838

  If you know someone who needs help have them call or text:

  Get Help

  1-888-373-788

  TTY:711

  TEXT: 233733

  Chapter One

  King gave a nod toward Duke, making it clear Ivy and Tymber were to be allowed to leave, relatively unharmed. The sight of her purse and its contents mocked him. “Frog, Groot, front and center.” He waited for them to be within striking distance. “You took it upon yourselves to mess with my family. What do you have to say for yourselves?” The entire club had gone silent.

  The loss of his little brother Luke still cut like a knife to the gut, but he didn’t let it show. Ivy was like family regardless if she’d been fucking his brother or not. Shit, he still wasn’t sure how he felt about her little news she’d just blurted. He glanced over at Luke’s twin brother Duke, watching his reaction and seeing only anger burn in his dark gaze. Duke was more like him; mean as a rattlesnake that’s been poked with a stick one too many times, while Luke was the complete opposite, clearly in more ways than one. Fuck, Luke had been into guys and would rather have killed himself than face him or Duke. He pushed that knowledge to the back of his mind to go over when he was alone.

  Frog’s hands fisted at his side, while Groot stood as still as a tree as he’d always done.

  “Well, don’t make me ask again. You won’t like the outcome of the evening if you do,” he promised. His voice didn’t raise. He didn’t have to. If King needed to yell, shit would go down and nobody would be left standing who he didn’t want to be, and the two idiots with their eyes looking anywhere but at him would be the first to fall.

  Groot shrugged his shoulders. “We thought it would show our loyalty if we messed up the bastard that made Luke off himself.”

  Yeah, his brother, his flesh and blood had taken his own life, thinking he had no other choice and that was on him. He was head of his family, not only the MC.

  He could hear the sneer in Groot’s tone as he said Luke’s name. “So what? Finding out my brother lived with a dude changed your mind? You decided to fuck the shithead up and destroy the place my brother called home?”

  “He was fucking that prick.” Frog defended his actions.

  “You went behind my back and took it upon yourselves to take action as a club and decided to keep information from me. This upsets me, deeply.” He sighed and stood to his full six foot three inch height. “Groot, if I told you to get on your knees and suck my dick, or you were out, what would you do?” King waited, crossing his arms over his chest, his leather cut creaking as he moved, the only sound in the room.

  Groot wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck, King, that’s not…that ain’t right. I don’t swing that way, man.”

  King nodded, spearing Frog with his will. “How ‘bout you, Frog?”

  Frog shook his head, but he moved forward.

  “You see, that right there is why Frog is getting to keep his cut, for now. You on the other hand, Groot, you’ve disappointed me. Get the fuck out of my sight and leave my property on the table,” he ordered, tapping the table with his finger.

  “You gonna stay and suck his dick?” Groot snarled, ripping the leather vest off his back, tossing it onto the ground. Everyone in the MC knew there were rules you didn’t break. One of them was you never let your club colors touch the ground, ever.

  King gave an imperceptible tilt of his head, sighing as Traeger moved out from the darkened corner along with Wheels. The two men grabbed Groot, one clamping down on each arm.

  “I thought you knew the rules, Groot? Don’t disrespect the club, being high on that list of things to do and not to do. However, it appears you don’t give a fuck about any of that, right?” He grabbed the front of Frog’s cut, pulling him in close. “What do you think, Frog?”

  Frog shook, fear etched on his features, but he had grit. “I think he’s wrong. We fucked up, King.”

  “Fucking pussy,” Groot snarled. “You gonna suck his dick just to stay in the club? Fuck that, I didn’t sign up to take any dick in my body.” He twisted, trying to free himself from Traeger and Wheels, something King knew wouldn’t happen until they were told to release him.

  “What do you think we should do to him, Frog?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of Groot. Sweat beaded on the other man’s brow, but he never lost the look of disgust.

  King could’ve reassured him that no man’s lips or dick was coming anywhere near his own dick, but he wanted to see Frog’s reaction. “I…I’m not sure. It’s not my place to…to tell you what to do.”

  He released Frog, slapping him on the shoulder. “That’s very wise of you. Next time, don’t blindly follow where others may lead.” King pulled a gun out from the back of his pants, laying it on the table then slid the blade from his boot, all while looking directly at the prospect named Groot. After he placed the knife next to the gun, he waved at the table. “Your choice, Frog, which do I use to teach Groot a lesson, and don’t say it’s not your place. I know it ain’t. It’s mine, but I’m asking. So now you need to answer.”

  Frog looked from the table to Groot, before glancing back at the table. “The knife,” he said after clearing his voice, the croak evident in his tone which was why he’d gotten his nickname.

  “Excellent choice. I always did enjoy a little knife play.” King picked up the blade, the handle fitting perfectly in his palm. “Here you go, Frog. Teach him a lesson.”

&n
bsp; King met Duke’s stare, each of them knowing whatever went down, would be handled inside the club. Frog gripped the knife in his fist, lifting his shoulder to wipe the sweat rolling down his temple away. Like an automaton, he moved to where Traeger and Wheels held Groot.

  “Don’t you fucking do it, Frog. We’re brothers,” Groot snarled.

  “The club comes first, Groot. You knew that coming in,” Frog muttered.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Groot. You ain’t got no family here. No friends, nothing. You see, when you tossed my property on the ground, you lost any right to call yourself a brother,” King said calmly. Hell, he did everything in a calm way. It was how he operated. Most thought he was cold. It was how he kept level.

  Frog adjusted his grip on the knife, his fear almost tangible. “Screw you,” Groot snarled.

  “I’d rather be judged by the guys behind me, than carried out by six to my final resting place.” Frog’s words had the Sons murmuring in approval as he uttered their oath. He stepped closer to where Groot was being held, the knife gripped in his palm so tightly King could see his knuckles were turning white.

  Duke moved in like lightning, stopping the forward movement of Frog’s hand that held the blade. “Good job, kid.” Duke expertly took the knife away, holding it out to the side for King to take. “You on the other hand aren’t worthy to wipe the shit off my ass let alone wear our colors,” Duke said quietly, he tilted his head, making a jerking motion toward Groot. “Let him go. Don’t want him thinking I’m a pussy and only hit a little bitch when he’s being held by two big bastards.”

  As soon as Groot was free, Duke lunged at him. King watched as his younger brother lashed out, hitting the other man solidly in the chest. He followed him down to the concrete floor, his fist striking Groot several times before he stood. “Some think I’m crazy, that we’re crazy. Newsflash, fucker, we are. The difference between us and you, other than the obvious, is we enjoy every second of our insanity. Oh, and if you think to spill any club insights to anyone, we’ll know. Trust me, there’ll be nowhere you can run or hide from us if that happens.” Duke pointed at King. “You think what I just did is bad? Next time, he’ll be the reaper, and you won’t get to walk away, feel me?”

  King used to hate being referred to as the reaper, but as the President of the Royal Sons, he had a lot of responsibility. Ensuring the safety of the Club was only one of them.

  Traeger helped Groot to his feet. “Get outta here, boy.” He shoved Groot toward the door, the man’s plain white T-shirt smeared with his blood. A stark indicator of what went down. As Groot walked out, holding his side, King didn’t need to see what his brothers outside did. He knew they’d not recognize him in any way. To them, he was dead.

  Ayesha tried to stifle her cry. Shit, she’d come to ask for help, but what she found was like nothing she’d expected. Oh, King Royal, the President of the MC was everything she’d heard he was. What made her pause, made sweat pool beneath her breasts, was the lack of caring he paid to what just happened. Her stomach was in knots having watched the VP named Duke beat Groot without so much as disrupting a bit of hair on his head. The two men were, in a word, dangerous. “I should’ve listened to Quincy,” she whispered.

  “That would’ve been smart,” a deep voice spoke from behind her, making her scream.

  “I wonder what you’re doing hiding back here when I told everyone to clear out?” King’s warm breath fanned over her shoulder, making her shiver.

  “I…I’m sorry. I came here to ask a…a question, but now I realize that was a mistake. I’ll just be on my way,” she said with more bravado than she felt.

  King sighed. His hand gentle as he turned her to face him. “Little Dove, you should’ve thought of that before you broke the rules.”

  Ayesha shook her head back and forth. “I don’t—what are you doing?” She yelped as he tossed her over his shoulder.

  “Sssh, I’m taking us out of the clubhouse while you explain to me exactly what the hell you had planned, and who sent you.” King strolled past a smirking Duke, ignoring the look his younger brother tossed his way. “You’re in charge while I’m gone. Make sure someone tails that shithead. We don’t need the heat coming down on us.”

  “If you don’t let me go, there’s gonna be a lot more than you bargained for coming up here. People know where I am.” Ayesha tried to reason with him.

  The feel of his palm running over her ass reminded her she’d worn a miniskirt, which made her wriggle harder to get free. A sharp slap made her tense. His words doing the same as he told her to quit fucking moving in such a deep voice her body instantly heated. Ayesha had never had a man do what King was doing, taking complete control of everyone and everything around him. “King, I mean, Mr. Royal, listen to me. I needed help, and I heard you guys were the ones to come to.”

  He froze in mid step. “Wait ‘til we get to the big house.”

  She’d met Chloe several months back when she’d come into High Maintenance, the salon Ayesha owned, for a haircut. They’d ended up talking about hair color because the other girl liked Ayesha’s blue and black hombre fade. When Chloe said she’d have to ask her boyfriend before she could do something so daring, it had shocked Ayesha since it was the year two thousand and nineteen, but she hadn’t mentioned that to the other girl, not wanting to lose a potential client, nor did she want to hurt her feelings. A couple days later, Chloe had called and made an appointment for a cut and color. That had been the beginning of a great new friendship and an eye opening to a world she’d only seen on TV or read about. If Ayesha was being honest, she envied the other girl and what she had as she’d watched her being dropped off by her boyfriend. He walked her into the shop, looked around as if making sure it was safe, his gaze taking in everything and everyone, possession stamping his features. He would take Chloe into his arms, staking his claim one last time before he left, demanding she call him when she was done. It had taken monumental effort for Ayesha to tear her eyes away from the kissing couple as he devoured Chloe’s mouth, while his hands held the other woman’s ass, their bodies fused together. Yeah, Ayesha knew without a doubt they’d be getting it on the moment he had Chloe alone, and the other woman would be more than happy when he was done. She’d only fantasized about having a man do those things to her but had never found one who actually could deliver.

  Chloe mentioned the club was more than just a biker gang who ran drugs and guns. She’d been a little tipsy and went on and on, talking about the way they helped damsels in distress, Chloe’s words. So when Ayesha’s little sister came up missing, or rather ran away, she decided to follow her friend after doing her hair. Big mistake. Huge. She was coming to realize her fool hardy plan could now cost her own life, while her sister Tiana would most probably be sold to the highest bidder in a sex trafficking ring in some third world country. A sob left her throat, but she choked back the next one.

  Fear was an ugly bitch, but Ayesha couldn’t stifle the sensation from working its way through her, making her break out in a cold sweat. “I think I might be sick,” she muttered.

  “Don’t, you won’t like me very much if you do.”

  “I don’t like you very much right now anyway,” she muttered angrily. At least if she was angry it kept her from wanting to vomit all over her sexy kidnapper’s back.

  King chuckled, walking into his house without pause. The door banging shut behind them was like an omen to her. “Alright, you got five minutes to explain. I’ll decide your fate after I hear what you say.” He lifted her from his shoulder, placing her feet on the floor, his hands spanning her hips kept her steady. It still took her several seconds to get her bearings. She glanced around the room, a little surprised to see it looked like a…normal home.

  “You’ve got four minutes now, better start talking.” He let go of her but didn’t move away.

  She wanted to wipe the smirk off his face with a swipe of her palm across the cheek, but her need for his help kept her hands down. “My sister was
kidnapped. I need help getting her back.” Shit, she sounded like an idiot.

  King raised a brow. “Why you telling me, shouldn’t you go to the cops?”

  Ayesha rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think I tried that first? For all intents and purposes, she went willingly, but I know better. I heard you help do this sort of thing…bring home people who are taken. My sister is one of them.”

  King tilted his head to the side. “What do I get out of this?”

  Ayesha barely controlled her instinct to roll her eyes again. “What do you want, a blow job?”

  King laughed, the sound louder than the beating of her heart. “Little Dove, if I wanted a blow job, I could open the door and whistle. Within minutes, I’d have my pick of women willing to let me fuck their face.” He held his arm out, palm facing toward the door.

  Oh, there was no doubt in her mind he could and had in the past done that very thing. So why did her heart skip a beat at the image of him opening his jeans for some nameless, faceless woman? The thought of King getting his rocks off with another made her angry. She pulled her focus back to her sister and the very real danger she was in. “I would do anything for my sister, even though I know you don’t need me to…whore myself out to you. Tell me, what do I need to do to get your help? Get on my knees and beg? Offer you my first born? Give you a million dollars? What?” she begged, desperate for a reaction, her voice rising.

  The door opened behind her, but she didn’t take her eyes off of King.