Liberate Us (Next Generation Book 8) Read online

  This book 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.

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  IBSN: 978-1-989782-34-7

  Liberate Us (Next Generation, #8)

  Copyright 2022, J.M. Walker

  FAMILY TREE

  AUTHOR NOTE

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT

  Angel and Genevieve “Jay” Rodriguez

  (Grit, King’s Harlots #1/Grim, King’s Harlots #3)

  Angelica “Gigi”

  Ryder

  Meadow

  Asher and Meeka Donovan

  (Stain, King’s Harlots #2)

  Aiden

  Ashton

  Coby and Brogan Porter

  (Rude, King’s Harlots #4/For You, King’s Harlots #7)

  Zachary “Zach”

  Dale and Maxine “Max” Michaels

  (Numb, King’s Harlots #5)

  Piper

  Vincent “Stone” and Creena Stone

  (Rust, King’s Harlots #6)

  Luna

  Vincent Junior

  Greyson and Eve Mercer

  (Greyson, Hell’s Harlem #1)

  Jaron

  Tray and Zillah Lister

  (Tray, Hell’s Harlem #2)

  Beatrix “Bee”

  John and Beatrix “Trixie” Butcher

  (Hell’s Harlem Series)

  Cyrus

  Samson “Sammy”

  For more information, visit

  https://www.aboutjmwalker.com/books

  I know a lot of readers don’t like knowing possible triggers ahead of time, but I know a lot of readers DO need to know in advance. And that is perfectly understandable! So I thought I'd do something a little differently this time for the warning in this book by giving YOU the choice to read the trigger warnings or not.

  Please see the link below that will take you directly to my site and it will include a more detailed warning.

  Please be advised that it WILL give some spoilers.

  https://www.aboutjmwalker.com/liberate-us-trigger-warnings

  This is NOT a light and fluffy romance.

  Final warning: This book deals with certain topics that may be triggering for some. Please read with caution.

  To porn and that porn star who has no idea who I am but inspired some of the scenes in this book.

  Keep it up.

  Amber

  I want you naked and kneeling on the bed with your ass facing the door. I’m going to fill every inch of you with so much cum, it’s going to be leaking from your pores. Get ready, baby, because I’m going to spend the night fucking you until you can no longer breathe.

  I shivered as I read the text. Every inch of me came alive with anticipation. Not knowing when he would arrive. Would it be in a few minutes? Hours? Longer? I never knew and I liked it that way. We preferred it. The not knowing. The buildup leading to the final explosion. It was more exciting when things were left to chance and not planned.

  Sammy Butcher and I had been sleeping together for a while now but every time with him was new and exciting. It always left me wanting more. No matter how many times he fucked me within an inch of my life, my craving for him never dwindled. He knew it and took advantage of it.

  The first night together he broke my table.

  The next time, he damn near broke my soul.

  What we had was fun but at the same time, it was dangerous as hell. Because even though he was a dick most times, I still texted him when I needed to feel him deep and powerful inside of me.

  He knew that no matter what, I couldn’t get enough of him. I often wondered if something was wrong with me. I should know my worth and want to be treated like a queen. I did but I also liked to be fucked dirty against a wall. Or feel that delicious slice of pain as his palm connected with my cheek when he was deep inside me. He figured out rather quickly that I gave as good as I got. Both of us enjoyed that delicious slice of pain but at the same time, I liked to be held and protected too. I knew Sammy would never hurt me and take things further than I liked.

  “Pick a safeword.”

  A safeword. A single word that would stop it all. He liked to try and make me use it, but I never did. I often thought he was challenging me in a way.

  Most would think what we had was degrading, maybe it was, but I always consented. He was rough, powerful, took exactly what he wanted and gave it back to me in ways I never experienced before. He took care of me without even knowing it. Without even trying. I knew I was safe in his clutches. Even when his hands were wrapped around my throat. He made me realize that the dark side to sex was intoxicating with the right person and that it was okay to embrace it as long as we were safe.

  While he threw vile words at me because he knew I liked it, he held me after. It was a contradiction in a way. With him being rough and vulgar during the act and then soft and gentle after. The after was my favorite. Always.

  Placing the phone on my nightstand, I stripped and crawled onto the bed.

  The sound of the door leading to my apartment closing sent a thrill rushing through me. I was so damn thankful I gave him that key because I liked not knowing when he would arrive. If I would be in the shower and have him join me unexpectedly or be sleeping and wake up with him beside me. Both of us liked not knowing.

  But it looked like I wouldn’t have to wait too long for him.

  I replayed his rules over in my head.

  No kissing on the mouth.

  Tell him if it gets to be too much and use my safeword if I needed but I never did because he knew that I could take it. That I could take him.

  All of him.

  Amber

  Some time before…

  When I pulled up in front of Rouge, I almost kept going. Motorcycles of all different shapes and sizes littered the parking lot. A sense of trepidation washed over me, knowing who was going to be within those walls. Walls that had been my safe place for as long as I could remember until he tainted them with his never-ending mood swings.

  I knew he was there because I could sense him. As much as I didn’t want it to happen, my heart fluttered at the possibility of going toe to toe with Sammy Butcher once again. Maybe tonight would be the night that he would actually talk to me. Only a handful of words had passed between us ever since I’d met him. I wished that he would talk to me instead of giving
me one of his signature scowls. But maybe this was what he liked and how he wanted it.

  “What the hell do you want, Sammy?” I demanded, placing my hands on my hips. I had only just met him a few days before and all he had done since, was glare at me. Every time I stood on that stage, he looked my way. A dark shadow would pass over his face. I would smirk, knowing it pissed him off every time I walked up to the pole and began to dance. And he would only stare at me. But that was it. He didn’t do or say anything, and it was enough to drive me mad.

  “You’ll figure it out, Red.” Sammy pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The touch had been so gentle, especially coming from someone like him, I was momentarily shocked as a result. He frowned, noticed what he had just done, and that familiar scowl appeared on his face once again. “Just hurry the fuck up. My dick and I are getting impatient.”

  Although I had been called Red ever since I was a little girl, when Sammy used it, it did funny things to my belly. A vibrant shade of crimson covered my tresses. But I wasn’t like a lot of redheads. I didn’t have a single freckle on my pale skin. I remembered as a child how I would dab tiny dots on my flesh with a black or brown marker. I felt different without them. I could never hide because my hair always gave away my location. I was always found. By them. By everyone. By him.

  When I pulled into the parking lot, a sense of relief left me that my space hadn’t been taken. Not that it was ever assigned to me technically and it was a free-for-all, but I liked parking in it. It was closest to the door at the side of the building. I could get in without being seen and leave just the same.

  I had been working at Rouge for a couple of months now and I considered the staff part of my family. Even my mom welcomed them into her life with open arms.

  Killing the engine, I went to reach for my bag when a rough tap on the window made me jump. My head whipped around, my stomach twisting at the dark shadow standing by my car.

  “Open up.” Although the deep voice was muffled, I knew instantly who it was. I tried denying it but even my body knew. It reacted to him. Always. Especially when he was in one of his moods. “Red, open. Now.”

  Was this it? Was Sammy going to finally tell me exactly what he wanted instead of glaring or scowling at me or beating guys within an inch of their lives just for breathing the same air as me?

  I knew he wanted sex. I wasn’t stupid. But I also knew that there was more to it than that and I was determined to find out.

  My jaw clenched, a hot shiver racing down my spine over the fact that I would have to come face to face with Sammy sooner than I would have liked. It was too early in the evening for this shit.

  Grabbing my bag, I shoved my phone into my back pocket and pushed open the door, not caring in the least if it hit him.

  He grunted.

  I smiled.

  Once I stepped out of the car, Sammy was right there. In my space. He was too close. Way too close. So damn close that I could smell the leather of his cut. I could see the light smattering of dark scruff on his strong jaw but what I couldn’t see, was any warmth in his dark eyes. Whatever emotion he felt was long gone and destroyed by something tragic that had happened to him. I knew because I felt the same.

  Most guys I had ever been with, drowned themselves in cologne. But not Sammy. With him, it was leather. Leather, sex, and man. Pure hard man.

  Taking a step toward him so I could close the door, my shoulder brushed his chest. As soon as I closed it, I was shoved up against it.

  My breath caught in my throat as I stared up into angry eyes. I had no idea what Sammy’s issue was with me. Maybe he wanted me like I wanted him, and it was new, so it pissed him off because he didn’t know how to deal with it. It was how I felt anyway.

  I noticed then how his hair had grown in some. He still kept the sides shaved but the dark, almost black, tresses were a little longer than normal on top. My fingers itched to run through it.

  Never being this close to him before, I could see that his nose was a little crooked. In the dim lighting of the streetlight, I also saw a faint white line in his left eyebrow where there had once been hair but now, it was a scar. Maybe it was from getting punched after saying something stupid.

  As we stared each other down, I couldn’t help but think back over the few interactions we’ve had. He came into Rouge with his crew, ordered a few beers, chatted with the other girls and owners, and that was it. He never once approached me. Not since I started working here. Not since I did my last dance.

  Why now?

  Sammy’s hand was around the base of my throat, holding me up against the side of my car. A wicked glint flashed in his dark eyes. He pushed harder, forcing me up onto my tiptoes.

  A gasp escaped me, something foreign rushing through me. Questions danced in my head but no matter what, I couldn’t voice them. No words left my lips as Sammy held me up against my car. It was later into the night, so it was dark enough that no one would catch us unless they walked by. But people making out, or even fucking in the parking lot, had been a normal thing. It was never my thing but now with Sammy’s firm grip on me, I was beginning to rethink that.

  We had been going back and forth for awhile now, skirting around the idea of what could possibly come out of whatever we were doing. Which was nothing at the moment. We hardly spoke but told all with our eyes. He looked at me like I was the worst person he had ever met, and I looked at him like he was the ending to everything I thought I knew.

  He drove me insane.

  I drove him mad.

  An electric current snapped between us, forcing his head lower. The muscle in his jaw ticked, begging me to touch it but I feared that if I did, Sammy would walk away for good. So I kept my hands to myself. For now.

  He took a step closer, his pelvis pressing up against my lower belly.

  I shivered at the thickness hidden beneath his jeans. I wasn’t a stranger to sex. Especially not when I used to strip for a living to make ends meet. But I had never experienced someone as intense as Sammy. His name almost didn’t seem hard enough for him. His last name was Butcher. I was surprised he didn’t just go by that.

  Sammy released me, much to my surprise, and trailed his knuckles down the center of my chest. The lower they went, the harder my heart raced.

  I clutched the strap of my bag and as much as I wanted to run, I couldn’t help but get lost in his stare instead.

  As his fingers delved lower, he watched me. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for. For me to tell him to stop? For me to say hurry the fuck up and do it already? For me to run?

  I wasn’t sure what he wanted but I wouldn’t do or say any of those things. I wouldn’t push him away but I wouldn’t pull him closer, either. I wouldn’t tell him to hurry up but I also wouldn’t tell him to stop. No matter how much I was confused by his dislike for me, even if he never actually said it himself, it was there, looming over our heads like a single cloud in the sky. It was our little reminder that although both of us hated any sort of emotion, we embraced the hate. We wrapped it in our fingers and choked the fuck out of it. Much like I wanted him to do to me.

  As his hand delved lower, his fingers skirted across my abdomen, over my hip, and around to my ass. Just when I was about to ask him what he was doing, he pulled my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. He swiped his thumb across the screen, a frown settling between his brows. After a couple more seconds, he handed it to me.

  I took it, staring up at him.

  He reached out, pinching my chin and tilting my head back. His dark eyes moved back and forth over my face. “You need me, you know where to find me.” Instead of waiting for me to respond, he stepped away from me and began walking toward the club.

  I couldn’t help but watch him, wondering what the hell that was about. My jaw tingled from where he had touched me.

  My phone buzzed a moment later, forcing my eyes to the small screen.

  Unknown number: It’s Sammy. Put a lock on your damn phone.

  I drew in a sharp breath
but did as I was told.

  Me: You know, you really need to learn your manners and how to say please. I don’t like being told what to do.

  Sammy: I have manners when they’re warranted, Red. And yeah, I bet your beautiful fucking ass that you do in fact like being told what to do.

  I huffed, about to put my phone away when another text came through from him.

  Sammy: I gave you my number because I’m sick of this shit. You want to fuck, text me and I’ll drop everything and be right over.

  My body burned. Yes, God yes, I wanted that. I wanted all of that. I wanted to know what he felt like. I wanted to run my hands over every single hard line of him. I wanted to put a smile on his face and warmth in his eyes. But most of all, I wanted him to make me scream his name.

  Me: Playing nice finally, Sammy?

  Sammy: Careful because trust me, you do not want to push me.

  Me: Your idle threats are cute, Sam, but you don’t scare me.

  Sammy: I don’t want to scare you. I want to break you instead.

  I read his words over and over before responding.

  Me: What’ll happen if I push you?

  As I sent the text, I stepped into Rouge. When I reached the main area that was an open space with tables surrounding a large stage, my phone buzzed again.

  Sammy: Keep pushing, Red, and see what happens.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Sammy: Don’t roll your eyes at me, pet.

  My back stiffened. My head snapped up, finding dark eyes staring directly back at me. Sammy was sitting in a booth to my left. From where I stood, he was the only one I could see. He sipped at his beer, keeping his gaze locked with mine.

  He watched me like he could see right through me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I felt naked every time I was around him, which wasn’t very often. He was always with his crew. The Hell’s Harlem Motorcycle Club. My late husband was a member of the same club but in a different chapter in another state. It seemed I couldn’t get away from them, even if I tried.