Ride out, p.1
Ride Out, page 1
Ride Out
Country Boy & Sara
Hellions Ride Out Series Book One
Written by
USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author
CHELSEA CAMARON
COPYRIGHT 2023 Chelsea Camaron
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Chelsea Camaron, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Thank you for downloading/purchasing this e-book. This e-book and its contents are the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied, and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download/purchase their own copy. Thank you for your support.
1st Edition Published: March 9, 2024
This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. Involves strong language and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situations are adults over the age of 18.
All characters are fictional. Any similarities are purely coincidental.
DEDICATION
TO THE FAIRCLOTHS … may your happily ever after be better than anything written in a book before. I love you both so much!
Ride Out
Hellions Ride Out Book One
Two people, one night, and a ride full of chaos, adventure, and steam.
The attraction is undeniable, the desire indescribable, and a connection that is unbreakable.
Clay “Country Boy” Faircloth is the President of the Salemburg Hellions MC. His life is his club. Brothers before everything, especially broads. Single in a small town, he lives his life from one ride to the next without a care.
A simple stop at a coffee shop turns his world upside down when he bumps into her.
All spark and spunk, Sara Sweeting is living her best life all on her own. She is little miss independent. Working hard and taking care of everyone around her, she’s in for the ride of her life after a chance encounter with a bearded biker.
She gets trapped in his world when she’s taken by a rival club as leverage. Too bad for them, the one line you don’t cross with the Hellions is involving women. Country Boy will move mountains to bring Sara home safely.
Their ride fueled in desire laced with danger. This time it’s the Salemburg Hellions on a ride out for love.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for taking a ride with the Salemburg Hellions. A couple of things to note as you head out on this ride with the Hellions MC.
This book is written as a crossover with Author Liberty Parker and her Dreamcatcher MC series. Please make sure to check out all her amazing books!
In order to understand the full story (at least what prompts the crossover with the Dreamcatchers) you will need to read Dynamic Intentions by Liberty Parker!
Country Boy and Sara’s book can be read as a stand-alone story; however, I highly recommend getting Dynamic Intentions as the books are meant to be read together. Liberty’s book explains the point of view of the Dreamcatchers MC that follows alongside the first ten chapters of this book.
The original print publication of this book will be in the Riled Up Collection that is meant to be read after the Revved Up Collection. These special editions are for the TNTNC signing March 9, 2024.
If you are reading the e-book version of this book only then you are reading the extended version which gives all of Country Boy and Sara’s story. If you are reading the Riled Up Collection paperback only, then be sure to grab Ride Out (Salemburg Hellions Book 1) to get the entire story.
However, you decide to read these works and whichever format you choose, I hope you enjoy this ride. I have had so much fun working with Liberty Parker and Author Janine Infante Brosco (she coordinated the entire collection – check out her work too).
Thanks,
Chelsea Camaron
Prologue
Sara
“This is beautiful, Sara,” my sister, Carrie states with the widest smile.
Her enthusiasm makes this whole charade worth it. Carrie is the polar opposite of me. I’m all denim and dirt, while she’s pearls and proper. I don’t remember a time where we weren’t so absolutely different, yet, still so connected. The saying that ‘no one can know you the way a sister does’ fits us perfectly. She’s my best friend, even if we aren’t going to be at the same concerts or shopping in the same stores at the mall, we are always in touch.
Carrington Paige Sweeting is my little sister who is set to marry her Prince Charming in a fairytale wedding two months from now. The last year has been an epic level of tulle, flowers, fittings, and photos all in the name of love. I’m beyond elated for her.
Every Disney princess ever created has been adored by her. Maybe it’s birth order, me being the oldest and all, but I’m more of a make my own path even if I fall on my ass person. Carrie is one tough cookie, don’t get me wrong, but she’s always daydreamed about being swept off her feet. Her soon to be mister, Caleb, does that for her. This is going to be the most beautiful day in her life and I’m here to celebrate it all, including today’s bridal shower.
My mother approaches with her cheeks flushed, no doubt from some kind of worry, “Sara, thank you, this is just gorgeous.” I smile all the while I want to laugh and call her out for not trusting me to pull it off. She didn’t hold back in giving her input all along the way, but I am proud of taking charge this time around. Most parties, events, those things, my mom takes care of everything from beginning to end. This time, I did it having my sister in mind with every detail. I’ll never admit it to my mom, but it was actually sometimes fun, the planning, I mean.
Sure, this isn’t my thing normally, but I know my sister and for her I’ll move mountains … or in this case, wear a damn dress and host her bridal shower. From the sheer fabric chair tiebacks in soft blushes to the champagne silverware, I have made sure every last detail is as precious as my sister. Custom backdrop for photos with fluffy pale pink roses in the softest paper give the perfect space for her to have pictures with every person near and dear. Aunts, childhood friends, work friends, friends of friends, my sister and mother have invited everyone they know. I’m proud to pull this all off. The internet has been my closest friend the last few months planning this. At times, I wasn’t so sure I didn’t need to pass on the job to someone more qualified, but somehow, I’ve managed.
“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride,” my Aunt Nelda says coming up and giving me a hug, “but you’ll forever be the prettiest cat lady I know.”
Yes, this is the on-going joke because at thirty-three I have an amazing career, own my home, and have a retirement account. The only thing missing is a significant other. Except, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.
Single and sassy, I love my life. Don’t let me deny it either, I do indeed have cats, two of them, along with two dogs, twelve chickens, and a goat. Judge me, joke about me, I don’t care. I have this one life and I’m living it my way, animals and all!
Carrie being exactly how she always is, taking my back in her own way, pipes up, “Sara will have her happily ever after. Some man is going to come in and grow on her. Like a carrot growing it might take a little longer, but it’s going to happen. When it does, we are all going to love him as much as she does. She’ll be ready to give up the chickens and live in a suburb. She just hasn’t found him quite yet.”
Inside, I laugh. They all think I need some man to take care of me. I’m seriously good … me and my chickens. No man needed here.
“I know what she needs to do,” Aunt Nelda chimes in, “remember when we were teens sharing a room Elizabeth,” she directs this to my mother. “We wrote out our list of wants for our eventual husband.”
Momma smiles, “tall, dark, and handsome. I remember we both wrote that, and he couldn’t be bald!” Both women laugh because they happen to have bald husbands. Personally, a bald man with a beard is hot as it gets, but I’m not going to tell them that.
My uncle and father are not my version of hot. They are just regular old men whose hair is no more. I’m sure in their day they were attractive, at least to my aunt and my mother.
Give me a man with a solid beard and a smooth head, well, yes sir, what are we getting into today? I need tall, dangerous, and commanding. Normal is boring and I can be boring all on my own.
“Tall, dark, and handsome, pppfffff,” I scoff, “give me gruff, rough, and tattooed up.” And the more ink the better, if you ask me. I probably shouldn’t have said any of that out loud. I’m only giving them more fodder for their conversations about me being the weird one.
Momma shakes her head, “you have been my wild child since your very first breath.”
Yes, I have and I’m damn proud of it!
“There goes Connie,” Aunt Nelda points out, “already messin’ up the table settings. Which, Sara, you got it right this time. See your Aunt Nelda has taught you some things. Good southern etiquette is a must.”
Aunt Nelda rushes over to correct the minor movement of the salad fork by a guest leaving me thankful for the escape. Between my mom and my two aunts, southern charm and etiquette is engra ined in all of us girls. Funny, my Aunt Nelda only has boys, my Aunt Willa never had kids, and my mom, well she has three girls. This means that all their childhood practice on dolls became real life dress up on me and my two sisters.
“Sara, when does the mimosa bar open?” Cara-Ann rushes over asking, “there is already a line.”
I let out a laugh, “Meredith will start serving soon, but you aren’t getting any of that, missy.”
“I know!” She states with her hand on her hip. “I want the juice and hello, we have a crowd, so go to that microphone and get this shower going. We have games and gifts.”
Cara-Ann is my teenage baby sister. We are close, but the bond is different from Carrie. My parents gave birth to Cara-Ann when I was in college. She’s fun, but I didn’t share a room with her and live through all the teen girl drama like Carrie. Cara-Ann is the perfect blend of Carrie and me. She looks like me but acts like Carrie. They both love makeup and dressing up, but Cara-Ann will get dirty too, don’t let the heels fool you. She spends every second of free time she has either competitive swimming or at the barn. Yes, my baby sister loves animals, especially the equine variety. She is outdoors in barn boots, cleaning up horse shit as much as she’s dolled up like today. Like her name, Cara-Ann is a blend of me and Carrie. Mom thought having such an age difference the best way to give us a bond from the beginning was joining Sara and Carrie into Cara for her name. It has never mattered her name; we love her for the sassy and sweet person she is.
Carrie leans into me, “I’m ready whenever you are, Sara.” She grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I can’t wait to do this for you one day.”
This time I let the laugh out. “Honey, don’t hold your breath. I’m waiting on mister dangerous, not mister dreamy.”
Chapter One
Country Boy
“Raise Hell, Praise Dale!”
The open road, damn, there is nothing better. The steady rumble of my steel horse in unison with the brothers behind me is music to my ears.
Grinder rides to my left slightly ahead of me. As Road Captain, he heads up these things. We ride two by two down highway twenty-four east in the great state of North Carolina.
Born here, raised here, and I’ll fucking die here, I’m Carolina through and through. Raff rides behind me slightly and to the left in line behind Grinder but enough of a gap that I sit between them to the right. It’s a zigzag pattern that is safer on these roads. He’s always directly at my back, as my Vice President it’s where he belongs.
Shit, we go back to being in diapers, no one knows me like Raff. All the brothers have my back and I have theirs. That’s Hellions life.
Yes, I am the President of the Salemburg Hellions, and we are currently riding out to the Haywood’s Landing annual barbecue. Established in the early nineties by Stud, who rides hard as a Salemburg original, we have been a solid chapter for the Hellions MC. We all know and respect what Roundman, Danza, Rocky, and Frisco built. Ride until we die, this is a homecoming we look forward to.
All the chapters in North and South Carolina ride in, families in tow. Tripp is now the Haywood’s Landing Hellions charter president, but not a single tradition from Roundman is ever missed. This ride home is calm. I can take a deep breath knowing we aren’t doing much business this weekend. While my homebase is and always will be Salemburg, North Carolina, Haywood’s Landing is the Hellions home and it’s a ride I always enjoy.
We are celebrating the past, the present, and the future.
Family is the core of the weekend ahead.
Before I can think too deeply about the term family and what it means to me, Grinder signals we are pulling off ahead. I throw up my hand with two fingers to keep the signal going down the line as each brother down the line follows suit and then we all turn off behind Grinder. We’re about twenty minutes from Haywood’s Landing at one of those popular chain coffee shops.
Grinder half jumps off his bike, yelling out, “gotta take a shit, brother.” I laugh as we all roll into different spots to park. Usually, he would have signaled that he needed to pull off alone, but given our destination, the goal is to arrive together as one.
Raff parking to my right looks at me as I’m taking off my lid leaving my backwards baseball hat in place, “what the fuck? Why we here?”
“Grinder’s gonna get him one of them drinks with eighteen steps so he can be hopped up,” I mutter as I climb off my Harley to stretch.
I scan the area making sure every brother makes it safely into the parking lot.
“Bullshit,” Raff counters knowing Grinder doesn’t drink anything that isn’t beer, liquor, or water.
“Nah, he had to drop a deuce.” I explain stepping up on the concrete deciding I’ll make my way inside for a black coffee just to give this place the business for using their restroom. Grinder has a reputation for massive shits with a stench. These people don’t need to be left with no sales or no tips after what they are going to deal with.
Every prospect to ever go in behind Grinder has come out looking green and ready to toss their cookies. We love to nail them with it after he’s drank too much and given himself the beer shits. Yeah, I definitely need to buy coffee and tip extra today.
Turning to the door, I collide with softness and a wave of long, dark hair. Inhaling she smells of coconut and coffee as I instinctively put my arms around her to stabilize her. Warmth hits my chest as the coffee sloshes from her cup against my t-shirt and cut.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I look down to meet the deepest crystal blue eyes of my life.
I can’t breathe. I’m stuck in place as her eyes lock to mine. She opens and closes her mouth with no words coming out. It takes a minute, and she seems to roll her shoulders back trying to get space between us.
“Sorry, sugar, didn’t mean to run into ya. Haven’t had enough caffeine yet to be around people. I shouldn’t have taken the little stopper out of the lid either. I’m not winning yet today.” She lifts her left hand up to me, “here, take this one. I shouldn’t be double fisting anyway. Plus, I made that awesome leather smell you got going on all sweet with this brown sugar shaken espresso. Wouldn’t want anyone to wonder why, so you take this one here, and enjoy it.”
I let out a deep laugh. “Cute one, sweets.” I release my hold on her to take the drink in my left hand. Mission to spend money inside is forgotten as she steps back and immediately, I want to pull her close again. Damn, she’s beautiful.
To my six-feet-four-inch body, she’s a solid five-feet-ten-maybe-eleven-inches with long dark hair that goes down to a plump ass in a pair of jeans that should be criminal to fit so good. The Metallica t-shirt fits tight across her tits and loose at her waist leaving me to wonder about all the curves of her body. Damn, I’m getting a chub imagining it.
“Sorry again about the little bump. Hope you have a great day and good ride.” She smiles and fuck, I might just faint.
This woman is dangerous. I’ve never been shy about wanting pussy, but something tells me her pussy is the kind a man like me could crave. My mind goes wild with the ways I could fuck her. Watching her hair fall onto my chest as she rides me, or better yet, putting her face down, ass up, and yanking her by those luscious locks back to look at me while I take her from behind.
Oh yeah, this one here, she’s got a fire that will burn a man with a single touch.
As she walks away, I follow because why not? I don’t mind some pain with my pleasure because this one is sure to burn deep. I fucking love a chase too.
She doesn’t seem to notice or if she does, she isn’t giving me any indication as she makes her way to an old red Ford Focus. Cute car for a first car or college ride, but for this woman who is clearly all woman, what the hell? Now, I find myself more curious. The car is clean from what I can see. An NC State Wolfpack sticker on the back window and an advertisement for some nut company leaving me wondering if this is actually her car or maybe a younger sister’s? She doesn’t strike me as one to drive something basic. She’s rock-n-roll, fire, and sweet, she needs a car with flare.
