Scorpion: A Rough Romance (Montana Bad Boys Book 2) Read online

  Scorpion

  By

  Piper Stone

  Copyright © 2020 by Stormy Night Publications and Piper Stone

  All rights reserved. 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 any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Stone, Piper

  Scorpion

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by DepositPhotos/_italo_, Shutterstock/BGSmith, and Shutterstock/AKV

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Additional Books in the Montana Bad Boys Series

  More Stormy Night Books by Piper Stone

  Piper Stone Links

  Prologue

  Brothers in arms.

  Soldiers.

  Cowboys and Marines.

  We’d been called so many things.

  Heroes. Monsters. Sinners and saints.

  Above all we were men honoring our country even while our pasts continued to haunt us.

  Some said we could never return, that we were damaged beyond redemption.

  Others would stop at nothing to prevent us from doing so.

  But we were determined to protect those we loved.

  Six men determined to right the wrongs from our past.

  Six men prepared to do what it took.

  No matter the cost.

  Then...

  Chapter One

  Scorpion

  Raunchy Ride.

  What. The. Fuck.

  I got out of the beat-up Ford, the creak from the rusted hinges echoing in my ears. Huffing, the various sounds erupting from inside the bar already grated on my nerves. As I gazed around the parking lot, the number of drunk assholes with their arms firmly planted around some wayward and garishly dressed girls was amusing. From somewhere in the distance, I could hear what sounded like a rough brawl, the grunts and hollers a reminder that I was back in cowboy territory.

  I was shoved more than once in my attempt to head toward the entrance, the bastards daring to enter my space unaware that I could snap their necks with one easy twist of my hand.

  Only I held back, fighting my natural urges. I was only here to discover what the hell I was dealing with. Then it would be slapped onto the market, just like I’d told the damn attorney who’d called overseas. The joint wasn’t worth much anyway. Obviously. At least the high dollar attorney was supposed to provide a list of potential purchasers. He damn well better come through with it.

  Exhaling, I stomped onto the platform leading to the entrance of the rowdy bar, glaring at the ridiculous massive pink neon sign taking up a huge portion of real estate on the front of the building. Who the fuck named a bar something so ridiculous? I knew the answer and it pissed me off.

  My freaking uncle.

  One I hadn’t talked to in ten years.

  The very one my father had ignored for the majority of his life.

  Now I owned the damn place.

  I shifted my gaze toward the crowd remaining outside; rugged cowboys and pretty little women in tight tee shirts and short skirts, all vying to gain entrance. I had to shake my head. What a crock of shit. I powered past the crowd, moving toward the beat-up wooden door, snorting from the sound of the honky-tonk music blaring from the speakers.

  “Hey! We were here first,” some guy shouted from the back of the crowd.

  “Yeah, fuck you,” some chick hissed.

  I glared at the crowd, even issuing a husky growl before shoving my way into the establishment, snarling at the two hulking masses standing guard. Great. Two bouncers were going to try to prevent me from going inside. The sudden sound of glass breaking did nothing to boost my desire to enter the joint.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are? Wait your damn turn,” one of the burly men dared to challenge me.

  “Just a man needing a drink,” I countered, giving him a hard onceover.

  He snickered, getting the other jerk to do the same.

  “Yeah? I don’t think so.”

  His answer only further fueled my anger.

  “And why is that?” I bothered to ask, shifting my gaze from one to the other.

  “Cause we don’t like the looks of ya,” the second bouncer huffed.

  The booming male voice was followed by a slam of his hand against my chest, the force pushing me against the wall. The bastard’s glare was highlighted by the flow of flashing lights shifting back and forth across the expansive space. The interior was huge, much larger than the rather dilapidated exterior indicated.

  I wasn’t in the mood for games.

  I gave the asshole a hard shove before reaching for my weapon, the very one I’d left at the damn house. It wasn’t nice to bring a gun into a club. Hell, I wasn’t nice. Why the fuck didn’t I insist on carrying my Beretta inside?

  When the second bouncer grabbed me by the collar, my rage surfaced, the fucker having no idea who he was dealing with. I lowered my head slowly, allowing a smirk to cross my face. “I suggest you get your fucking hands off me or you’re going to lose the ability to do anything but suck out of a straw.”

  My words seemed to resonate with the two of them.

  Until one of them made the mistake of throwing a punch.

  My reactions quicker than the fucker could think, I snapped my hand around his fist, immediately shoving him backward, slamming his massive body against the wall. The hard crack as the wood splintered seemed to shock the hell out of the customers in close proximity. I even heard the same shit I had for years.

  “Who the hell is this guy?”

  “Fucking asshole.”

  I grinned as the bouncer’s eyes opened wide. After a savage howl, he attempted to drive his fist into my face, his other hand moving to grab me around the throat.

  Big mistake.

  I shoved the palm of my hand under his chin as I shifted closer, enjoying the asshole’s gagging sounds.

  The second bouncer growled, prepared to throw a quick jab until I gave a solid punch into his gut, enjoying the crunching sound as my fist connected with his ribs.

  “Fuck,” he railed, gasping for air.

  “Now, you and your boy toy over there are going to allow me to come inside your fine establishment. If you do so without making an additional scene, I’ll be happy to allow you to live. If not, well... Let’s just say I enjoy crushing bones.”

  “You’re a fucking asshole,” the second man stated with a deep growl in his voice. “I eat shitholes like you for breakfast.”

  Chuckling, I gave him a hard glare. “Try me.”

  There was another round of breaking glass, several grunts from rowdy assholes. How the fuck was this bar still operating?

  “Boys. Why don’t you allow the man inside? He’s with me. My big hunk of a man doesn’t have any patience.
”

  I was shocked that the sound of the woman’s voice alone sent the kind of electricity shooting through me that scorched my veins. Sultry. Inviting.

  Provocative.

  She had the kind of twang in her lilt that could make any man’s cock become hard as a rock.

  Hell, mine was no exception, my cock twitching. Yet, I refused to accept any kind of a distraction. I wasn’t here to play.

  I snapped my head in her direction, narrowing my eyes as she moved from the hallway leading to the restrooms. She stood in all her glory, giving a wicked smile as she brushed her fingers down the side of her neck to her cleavage, even offering an intense moan over the din of the wretched music. She shifted her hips back and forth, her seductive scent wafting into the dense space.

  The bouncers reacted as any Neanderthal would do, leering at her with an unscrupulous desire illuminated in their expressions. However, both bouncers seemed to back down, no longer prepared to fight to the death.

  She offered a shimmering smile then held out her hand. The way the light cascaded across her face drew me into a savage level of desire. She was one beautiful woman, her long blonde hair accentuating her voluptuous body. However, I didn’t come here for some kind of hookup. I was here to figure out what the fuck to do with the place.

  Selling was the best option.

  While I’d always known after my stint in the military, including my contract as a government contractor, that I’d return to Missoula at least in the interim, owning a failing bar hadn’t been on my radar. And it still wasn’t.

  “Come on, darlin’. I have a drink waiting for you. You’re late.” She allowed her southern drawl to drip with innuendos, even batting her eyelashes as she pursed her lips.

  Whoever she was, she knew how to yank the bouncers’ chains.

  She wrapped her arms around my neck, dragging me against the heat of her body. To say I was aroused was an understatement. When she pressed her voluptuous lips against mine, the angry beast dwelling inside longed to take over, consuming every drop of her sweet essence. The second she pushed her tongue just inside my mouth, my instincts shifted into those of a predator.

  “Fuck this,” the first bouncer snorted.

  “Let ‘em through,” the second bouncer hissed, although he attempted to deliver a solid punch to my kidney. “But don’t fuck with the customers,” he warned.

  My hand stopped the action before the asshole managed to connect. Breaking her connection, I inched closer to the hulking mass of a man, staring him in the eyes. “You don’t want to mess with the lady’s hunger. Now, do you?”

  While he glared at me, likely preparing retaliation in the future, he backed down. When I released my hold, he held up his arms, nodding to the other enforcer. “Yeah, go on. Just don’t show your face in this bar again.”

  I chuckled under my breath. They had no idea who I was, and no one would at least for tonight. “We. Will. See.” I pushed her away, reining in my body’s reaction.

  Refusing to be ignored, she reached out, snagging my hand. The response was the same as before, my entire body aching, my mind shifting to all the vile and filthy things I hungered to do to her. The electricity continued to soar between us as she tugged me through the crowd, her darting glances obvious that she was experiencing the same shooting electricity.

  I held back from making any moves as she pushed her way through the raucous patrons, the majority of them already drunk off their asses. For some reason, I was shocked at the volume of people inside. While the majority appeared to be cowboys and wannabe cowgirls, there were still suits hovering on the outskirts, sucking down beer and liquor as if they were going out of style.

  The blaring music became even more grating as she pulled me toward the impressive-looking bar, the wooden structure taking up an entire wall in the back of the place. There were several waitresses, all dressed in tight tee shirts and short shorts, men groping them with every chance they got.

  When the mysterious woman let go of my hand, she placed it on her hip, shaking her head. “You don’t look like you belong, cowboy. Thought I’d help you out. It’s a rough crowd in here, so be careful. Even a beautiful hunk of a cowboy like yourself won’t survive.”

  As if to reiterate her point, the sound of smashing glass echoed in my ears, the ugly noise combining with the hoots and hollers of those both enjoying and critiquing the music. I moved closer to the bar, turning to find the source of the music.

  For the love of fuck.

  The music wasn’t canned. It was live, the poor bastards who’d taken the gig protected behind a damn metal cage. I blinked twice as I stared in their direction, growling under my breath. This was a shithole of a bar, a rowdy place for all who ventured out for an evening.

  “You’ve fucking got to be kidding me.” I hadn’t realized my words had been said out loud until I sensed another presence.

  “Happens every night. Every fucking night.”

  I slowly turned my head, lifting a single eyebrow as I glared at the bartender. His initial grin was quickly replaced with an expression of apprehension.

  Even fear.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, almost choking on the words.

  “Budweiser and a side of whiskey. The best you have.” I didn’t bother engaging in a conversation, at least just yet. All I was wanted to do was find out what I was getting into the middle of.

  “I think you can handle yourself from here,” the mysterious woman purred as she rubbed her hand down my arm.

  I shifted my gaze to what she was doing, exhaling as my cock continued to throb. “Yeah, you’re right. I can,” I finally stated, giving her more than just a single onceover. Damn, the beautiful woman’s dazzling eyes alone tightened my balls.

  “Mmmm... Yet, I wouldn’t mind helping you further. Let me know if you’re interested.” Her murmurs were almost lost in the noise.

  But I’d heard them.

  My thoughts drifted to her comment about not belonging here. She was right, especially given the clean-cut look I continued to wear, my days in the military a far cry from the unbridled cowboys in the crowd. I’d obviously been away from my hometown far too long. Then again, I’d never been the kind of guy who enjoyed getting blind stinking drunk.

  Hell, maybe tonight was an exception. No, I’d maintain control if for no other reason than the last thing I needed was to get into a fight. It was likely my reputation had followed me all the way from Afghanistan.

  My thoughts drifted briefly to the shit-ass attorney who’d called out of the blue, pretending to give a damn that my uncle had died in his sleep. When he’d mentioned an inheritance, I’d laughed out loud. My uncle couldn’t care less about our side of the family, plus, my father had mentioned the man was almost always penniless, coming to him for help more often than he could count.

  Then a portion of the will had been faxed overseas.

  The cancellation of my government contract had given me reasons to get the hell out of a war zone, especially given I wasn’t entirely certain I wouldn’t be charged with treason.

  Or accessory to murder.

  Another rush of anger washed into my system, the ugly memories still causing nightmares.

  I didn’t bother answering the sexy filly, although I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off her as she walked with some difficulty toward to a barstool less than twenty feet away.

  The girl was already intoxicated, and it was barely ten-thirty in the evening.

  As I scanned the crowd, I cringed. This was going to be a shitstorm. There were dozens of tables, although the majority of people remained on their feet. The dingy atmosphere was accentuated by several neon-infused lights, the majority of them having seen better times. There were several pool tables and... “Fuck. Me.” A mechanical bull. I blinked twice to confirm what I was seeing. Hell, no. There was no way I was keeping the shithole.

  Not for any reason.

  Another smash of glass, the sound echoing as the crowd roared forced my att
ention toward the cage. Jesus Christ. Tossing beer bottles was obviously a sport, a portion of the crowd cheering the moment another bottle exploded.

  “Happens all the time,” the bartender stated, laughing under his breath as he pushed the drinks in my direction. “Actually, this is a pretty tame night.” He looked at me curiously, a knowing smile crossing his face.

  Inhaling, I glanced in his direction, keeping my eyes pinned on him as I grabbed the whiskey, swirling the glass. “Yeah? Well, that’s going to change.” I threw back the entire amount, my throat clenching from the burn sliding down the back of my throat. “And so will the rotgut shit you’re serving.”

  “Right. If you think you’re going to be able to make changes, you’re dreaming, buddy.” The bartender laughed until he obviously noticed my harsh glare. “Unless you’re who I think you are,” he huffed, shifting his gaze away as if remembering some big news. “Yep, I’m right. I’ve seen your picture, heard about your reputation.”

  Great. Just fucking great.

  I was the big news, the attorney supposedly providing the likely unwanted update that a new owner was in town. And what picture was he talking about? Hissing, I studied the joint for another few seconds, shaking my head as the band continued to play as if nothing was going on around them even as shards of glass found their way through the cage.

  This owner wasn’t going to put up with any shit. From anyone.

  The mysterious woman’s laughter drew my attention away from the rowdy crowd. I grabbed my beer, pulling it forward. At least the damn beers were cold.

  The blonde had a crowd surrounding her, the hungry cowboys eager to slide their hands under her way-too-short skirt. She had no issue egging them on, swiveling on the stool as she twirled her glass of red wine. If I had to guess by the rabid dogs hovering around her, she had no idea what kind of trouble she was about to get herself into.

  In my opinion, the little filly needed a harsh lesson in learning how to behave. Maybe a hard spanking would do her some good.

  The thought of her alone pushed my cock against my zipper, creating a growl deep in my throat. While it had been one hell of a long time since I’d tasted a woman, I certainly didn’t need the freaking complications. Still, even the way she smiled turned me on to the point my heart was pounding.