Hardcore (Bleeding Mayhem MC #1) Read Online Jenika Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, Erotic, MC, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Bleeding Mayhem MC Series by Jenika Snow

Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)

The Bleeding Mayhem MC, where blood, violence, and being a badass alpha reign supreme.

Claire left the Bleeding Mayhem MC two years ago after a Patch named Big broke her heart. But her brother, Mayhem, and the MC are all she has, and she knows she’s going to need the club’s protection after what she’s gotten herself into.

Big, who got his nickname because of the equipment he’s sporting between his legs, has never forgotten Claire, the woman he at one time had as his number one, so when she shows up at the club, he knows it’ll be hard to keep the past where it belongs. But Big still wants her in a bad way and has no self-control when it comes to Claire.

Big takes it upon himself to handle Claire’s problem the only way he knows how—with violence. No way is he going to let her run from him again. She’ll be his in every way, no matter what.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************


Big got his name for one reason and one reason only, because he had a big fucking cock, thick and long, with a piercing right through the huge head.

He was proud of his dick, used to get hard just thinking about all the pussies he stretched with the fucker between his legs.

“God, it’s like another arm, Big, and it’s not even hard,” the club bitch said, her mouth open, glossy from her saliva because she was so ready for him. She wanted to suck his cock, to drink his cum, but he couldn’t even get it hard for her.

Hell, he was so damn drunk that he shouldn’t have even allowed her to follow him, like she was some kind of fucking lost puppy or some shit.

But he’d come into his room, turned around, and there’d she’d been with her tits hanging out of her shirt and this “fuck me” look written across her face.

“What’s wrong? You’re not getting into this?”

The sweet-butt was on her knees, staring up at him, her mouth open and waiting for his dick. She’d gotten on her knees of her own accord, and Big had been so amused by the fact she was so blatant in what she wanted that he hadn’t stopped her.

Maybe if he wasn’t so drunk and in a foul mood getting his dick sucked might have sounded pretty damn good—doing it so hard she gagged—but he couldn’t get hard, least of all for her.

She was one of the loosest bitches in the club, and putting his dick in any of her holes, ones the other patches had stretched out and torn up, wasn’t appealing in any sense.

But it wasn’t just the fact this sweet-butt was dirty as all hell. The massive problem he had, the reason he had trouble getting his dick hard, was because of one person and one person only.


It seemed the monster between his thighs only wanted to get hard for her, and it was a problem he’d faced way too many fucking times since she left.

Pushing away from the club whore, he shoved his cock in his pants, pulled his zipper up from when she’d pulled it down because she had some big balls, and went over to the dresser by the door. “I’m not in the mood.”

He was at the clubhouse, the party in the other room going hard and strong. He grabbed a joint from the dresser, took out his lighter from the inside of his cut, and lit the end. He needed to just chill, to relax and not think about Claire and the fact she’d fucked up his life and probably didn’t even know it.

With his back toward the club bitch, he inhaled a few times before exhaling slowly. The thick smoke wafted around him, making a hazy cloud around his face.

“You want me to stay, Big, maybe try and work you over? I know some of the guys, if they’re too drunk and can’t get hard—”

He turned and looked over his shoulder, giving her a hard, dangerous look. “You’re the reason why I can’t get hard, so it’s better if you just get the fuck out.”

She snapped her mouth closed, not continuing with that shit line. Hell, he didn’t even know her name, but he didn’t fucking care, either. He turned back around so he didn’t have to look at her.

“If you can’t get it up, don’t blame it on me. I know how to please the guys.”

He exhaled and gruffly said, “Get the fuck out.” He lifted his hand and made the gesture for her to leave. When Big heard the door shut, he exhaled a lungful of smoke, feeling his body start to relax, the high freeing him from the grime of his life and the drunkenness of the night.

After two years, he still thought about her, that bitch who broke his goddamned heart, made him hate the female population, and who created the monster he was now.

Fucking any pussy he saw that was willing and clean, Big had done his best to try to forget about Claire.

But, hell, was it hard given the fact her brother, Mayhem, was a patched member, and every time he looked at her fraternal twin, saw those vibrant blue eyes, all Big could think about was Claire.

Because he was a masochist, Big grabbed his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, opened it up, and slipped out the small weathered picture of Claire. Yeah, he’d kept this picture of them that had been taken when they’d been in deep with each other, when they’d been inseparable.

She’d been it for him, even if he hadn’t been a man, even if he hadn’t had the balls to tell her.

Looking down at the picture, he felt his cock jerk to attention at the image of her. Even two years later, he jerked off to this picture, thought about the times he’d had his cock deep inside of her hot, little snatch and wished like fuck he had been a better man back in the day.