Property of woods, p.5
Property of Woods, page 5
But doesn’t that make me a cheater, too? I’m married, same as Woods. Even if I hate my spouse, I’m a cheater and no better than Thad or Woods.
“Damn, that was fast.”
“What?”
“Where did you go to just now? Someone is on your mind.” Her deep red lips tip into a full grin. “You like someone.”
“No.”
“You don’t have to tell me who, but I know the men around here better than most. In ways a lot don’t. I’m not bragging. Only stating facts. If you like one of them…” She lifts her right shoulder. “Then I may know something to help or steer you clear from a total player.”
“I don’t know any of them well enough to like them.”
“You spent a few days on the back of Woods’ bike. You slept in his motel room. A woman knows within the first five minutes of meeting someone if she’d fuck them. It’s basic biology and chemistry, babes. It’s who we are as a species. We were designed to seek out a partner and procreate. And I’ve heard that he and his wife made a deal when they got together. Whatever he does on the road stays on the road. Or in some cases who he does, but I’m guessing since you’re here, you didn’t fuck him.” She studies my face, but I do my best not to react.
“Does he screw around behind her back often?”
“I’ve never seen it for myself, but he wouldn’t be the first biker to cheat.”
Or the first wife. I keep the thought to myself.
What does it say about me that the same night I left my husband, I fucked another man without a second thought? I should regret my night with Woods and yet I don’t.
I more than liked sex with him.
He’s the best I’ve ever been with.
How am I going to bear staying here? Seeing him and his wife. Seeing him be with his wife, knowing that he’s been inside me. Was he thinking of her when he was fucking me? Will he think of me when he fucks her?
My head is so fucked.
Evil men want me dead.
And all I can think about is the way I felt when Woods smiled his stupid smile at me and called me butterfly.
The same smile he probably gives to his wife.
I’m so going to hell.
Maybe I’m already there.
Chapter Six
“Damn, woman. Slow down or I might believe you actually missed me.” I pull Faye’s hands from my belt buckle. Henry, my cat, meows and rubs against my pant leg, impatient for my attention.
I scoop my black & white tuxedo cat into my arms, giving him chin scratches until he wiggles to be let free.
“I did miss you, honey. Now stop talking and let me blow you.”
“I need a shower first.”
“Is there a reason you don’t want my mouth on you? Did you fuck that bitch you brought home with you?”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“You didn’t miss me. You’re worried someone might replace you. Besides, what was it you told me? What happens on the road stays on the road. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
“Answer the fucking question. Did. You. Fuck. Her?”
“No. I didn’t fuck her. But if you want to suck my sweaty nuts, then, baby, by all means, get on your knees and have at it.” I kick off my boots and drop my jeans, then grip my cock. She knows damn well if I fucked someone, she’d hate me for admitting it.
What would she do if I said, ‘Yeah, Faye? I fucked her and loved every second of it. And given the chance, I’ll fuck her again.’
A knock at our door interrupts the argument. I pull up my jeans and swing the door open.
Low ignores my grumpy expression and shoves past me. Faye shoots my sister a dirty look and stomps into the kitchen for a drink. Since the day I began seeing Faye, my sister has hated her. She still, to this day, refuses to tell me why. I gave up on asking. Faye says Willow is jealous that she’s no longer the number one woman in my life, but whatever it is, it goes much deeper than that.
“I showed Jessika to a room and told her I’d take her to town tomorrow. I’ll need some money to get her set up. You’ll also need to tell the Prospects to clean up their nasty ass bathroom since they’ll be sharing with her and to get a window unit in her room ASAP. It’s hotter than fuck up there.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. She was asking for a phone. And you could thank me for taking care of your business.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She holds her palm out expectantly.
“How much is this going to set me back?”
“I mean, she literally has nothing, and you know it’d be better if I took her to the outlet mall. I doubt Peg and Linny will have anything of any count at the thrift shop.”
“If you go to the mall, that means more people. More chances of her being spotted.”
“Do you really think the cartel will have eyes at the mall?”
“Point taken, but I can’t take any risks.”
“The cartel?” Faye shrieks and pours herself a double this time.
“Here.” I hand Low my credit card. “I’ll send a couple of guys with you. I don’t want to hear no backtalk about the subject.”
“Fine, but you owe me a new outfit and maybe getting my nails done.”
“Deal.”
“Tell Grannie I’ll be by tomorrow to check in.”
“Will do.” Low leaves, and Faye demands answers about Jessika.
“Who the fuck is this Jessika bitch? Are we running a fuckin’ charity now? You’re buying this whore clothes?”
“She was mixed up in a dangerous situation and Big Daddy asked me to get her out of town and keep her safe. So that’s what I’m doin’.”
“And what if this trouble of hers comes knocking at our door?”
“Then I’ll handle it.”
“She’s not your problem.”
“Jessika isn’t a problem, but your attitude sure as fuck is.”
“Why can’t she be Gray’s problem?”
“Because Big Daddy tasked me with it.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“I can hardly handle you, Grannie Mags, and my sister. You really think I want to add another woman into the mix?”
“She traveled on the back of your bike in my seat. Her hands on you.” She slams her glass on the counter, the contents sloshing over the brim.
“Yeah, and what of it? She slept in the bed next to mine too. Nothing fucking happened. You either trust me, or you don’t. Could have been you riding bitch with me, but you chose not to.”
“It’s disrespectful.”
“Disrespectful was you not putting your ass there to begin with.”
“You’re a real asshole.”
“And you’re a bitch,” I grit the words out. “I’m taking a shower.”
“Hope it’s not on my account because I damn sure ain’t fuckin’ you now.”
“I’m well aware the only time you spread your legs for me is when you want something.” I storm down the hall to our bedroom.
She shouts after me, “That’s a lie.”
“Only one liar in this house and we both know it ain’t me, babe.” I strip out of my gear and twist the knobs on the shower.
“What are you trying to say?” she huffs from the doorway, her heated gaze traveling the expanse of my backside.
“If I fucked someone else, you’d know. There’d be scratches down my back and when you kissed me, you’d have tasted someone else’s pussy.” I step into the shower, ignoring her as she calls me every name under the sun. I’m tired, hungry, horny, and pissed the fuck off. “Do you want to fuck or fight? I don’t have the energy to do both.”
My wife glares at me, but she strips down and steps into the shower with me. Faye runs her soapy hands over my tattooed muscles, reclaiming her territory, scoring my skin with her pointed fingernails. I wash away the grime of the past few days and when she grips my cock, the tension of our fight leaves me. All fight leaves me. I surrender to her touch and hot little mouth as the warm water sprays down my back.
Faye grips the base of my cock with her slender fingers.
When I close my eyes, it’s not my wife’s touch I’m feeling. In my head, Jessika is the one pleasuring me. It’s her pretty mouth I’m fucking and losing myself in.
The realization of what I’m doing is fucked up, and I know that. Problem is, I don’t give a goddamn. I imagine it’s her wavy blonde locks my fingers are tangled up in and not Faye’s silken coppery red strands. It’s Jessika’s breathy pants sounding from between my legs, not my wife’s.
“Fucking take it like the dirty little slut you are,” I growl as I pump my hips. The idea of Jessika giving me this has me nearly ready to blow. I shut off the water and continue this outside of the shower. Bending Faye over the bathroom sink, I stare at our reflection, expecting the sight to remind me that I’m supposed to love her and yet I feel nothing for her except disappointment that she’s not someone else. I’m using her to fulfill a need.
Bracing her palms on the sink, Faye juts her ass out, giving me the perfect angle to get us both off. I take her hard, fast, and deep, wanting to get off as quickly as possible so I can head over to the clubhouse to check on Jessika. I’m an asshole. I know it, and Faye knows it. That doesn’t mean when it comes to sex that we aren’t fucking great. It’s everything else we can’t seem to get right.
“Okay. Point proven. You missed me,” my wife whispers.
“Somethin’ like that,” I tell her, giving her a slap on the ass before I walk off to get dressed.
She follows me to our room, wrapped up in her black silken robe. “Where are you going?”
“Clubhouse. Got some shit to take care of.”
“You just got here.”
“Doesn’t change that I’ve got things to see to.”
“Like the skank you brought home?”
“Don’t call her that. You don’t know her.”
“And you do?”
“No.” I grunt and head toward the door as I shrug my cut over my arms. “Told you this is club business.”
“Will it be club business when you fuck her? Think you can keep your wife at home and your whore at the clubhouse?”
“I’ll let you know.” I slam the door behind me and trek toward the clubhouse.
I don’t have to look hard to find Jessika. She’s at the bar laughing at something Foolish just said to her. I don’t like the idea of them sharing a joke I’m not privy to.
I light up a cigarette and signal for Rizz to get me a bottle of Bud. “What’s on Frenchie’s menu tonight?”
Frenchie, the woman who has the run of the clubhouse, earned her name because the Eiffel Tower was her favorite sex position back in the day or so I’ve heard. She keeps the club girls in line, runs the kitchen, makes sure the bar is stocked, and cleans when time permits it. She got her start as my Uncle Hoss’s whore. Now she’s his companion. At least officially, since his ol’ lady, Nattie, passed away some years back.
She’s been training Madz to replace her one day, but that won’t happen if Gray steps up to claim her. But hell, that will happen over Low’s dead body.
“She took the night off but ordered pizzas from Dough Brothers. Rizz went down to the gate to meet the delivery guy.”
“Good deal.”
Fuck knows, I can’t count on Faye to cook. Between Frenchie and Grannie Mags, they keep me well fed. No one can top my Grannie’s mac and cheese. Faye could fuck up a bologna sandwich, but she can suck my dick like a fucking champ.
Jessika turns at the sound of my voice, her body jolting as our eyes meet. I don’t know what it is about her that has my heart racing at the mere sight of her. Guilt has my chest tightening. I was just fucking my wife while fantasizing about her. Wishing it was her cheeks hollowing around my cock. Her sweet heat I was sinking inside.
I take a hard pull of my beer and make my way to where she sits at the other end of the bar with Madz. “Pizza will be here soon,” I tell them.
“The one with chicken and tomatoes is Jessika’s,” Foolish informs me.
“As long as there’s not any pineapple on it,” I grumble.
“What’s wrong with pineapple on pizza?” Madz puts a hand on her hip.
“Everything, but that’s not surprising considerin’ the fugly ass shoes you wear,” Cash pipes in.
“Excuse me. There is nothing wrong with my shoes.”
All of us seem to look down at her feet at the same time.
“Why do you have rubber balls hanging off the backs of your shoes?” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “On second thought, I don’t care.”
“They’re Croc charms, but these ones in particular are my nuts. Gotta remind you guys that just because I’m a girl, that doesn’t mean I don’t have balls.” She smirks and I shake my head. She is a fucking looney cunt, but loyal.
Rizz comes in carrying a stack of pizzas and behind him is Swift with some wings and garlic cheese bread.
The guys push a few tables together and the girls grab some napkins and drinks. Faye should be here at my side, but she’d rather sit at home and sulk for no damn good reason. I’m done trying to understand her.
I look around for Gray but don’t see him. The fucker is always disappearing.
Chapter Seven
I load up my plate with garlic cheese bread and a couple slices of pizza while observing the people who have taken me in. They cut up and carry on like a family. The way the men tease each other cracks me up. There’s a comradery among them that I envy. I’ve always been a loner in a lot of ways. Maybe that made me easy prey for Thad. Growing up, I didn’t make friends easily. I was the odd, chubby girl who loved to read more than anything else. Books gave me an escape. Friends that felt real, even if they only ever lived in my imagination.
Reading made my childhood less lonely, but I’ve always longed for a friend group. A true family. I thought Thad and I were going to build a family together. And as far as friend groups go, Gwynee was trying to include me and make me a part of hers. As sweet as she was, I still felt like an outsider, but something about sitting at this table with these bikers and their babes makes me feel as though maybe I could eventually settle in to this life.
I just want someone to want me.
Somewhere to belong.
A real home.
Madz smiles at me, and nothing about her energy or her expression comes off fake. She comes off genuinely.
I bite into my pizza, and a moan escapes my lips. I’m either starving, or this is the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life.
Automatically, all eyes are on me.
“Now that’s what I call a foodgasm,” the brunette that was with Foolish earlier says.
Woods clears his throat, and I meet his gaze. My cheeks redden the second I look at him. Why am I so drawn to this man that I can’t have and shouldn’t want? What is it about him?
I look away and fight against the smile pulling at my mouth and shove more food between my lips. I can’t go there. He’s married. He’s a cheater. He’s not mine and he never will be.
“I’m gonna have to try this if it’s that good.” A guy by the road name Dover reaches for a slice of my specialty pizza and Madz slaps him on the back of his hand.
“Hands off.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” I barely utter the words before all the guys are going for my box.
Woods grabs the whole thing, snatching it away from them before they claim every slice. “Fucking animals,” he mutters, then procures a slice for himself.
“You guys are the worst,” a woman I’ve not met yet says. She’s sitting between Popeye and Bugs, but I can’t tell which man she’s with if either of them. Whoever she is, she has the silkiest black hair I’ve ever seen.
“That’s Anya. Be careful around her,” Madz warns. “She’s besties with Faye. The wife.”
The ways she says wife tells me she knows about Woods and me, and I wonder what her silence will cost me.
“Good to know.”
“The chick with Foolish is Gabbie. She’s a club girl like me, but I trust her about as far as I can throw her. Kiki is cool, but she’s not here.”
“Anything else I should be aware of?”
“What are you two whispering about?” Anya presses.
“We were wondering what shampoo you use,” I blurt out. “Your hair is so silky. It’s gorgeous.”
She smiles and runs her fingers through it. “Thanks. I get it from the salon in town.”
“Ass kisser,” Madz mutters, and I elbow her in the ribs.
“You two seem chummy. Do you know each other?”
“What is this an interview,” Madz answers Anya.
“Just curious. So what’s your story?” She directs the question to me.
“None of your fuckin’ business,” Woods snaps at her.
The table goes quiet, other than the sounds of drinks sloshing and chairs scraping against the floor. Eventually, there’s only the two of us left at the table.
“Your room okay?”
“I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Still. You don’t know me.”
“I want to,” he says, all deep and gruff. His words paired with his rough voice send a tingle straight to my lower belly, warming me where they shouldn’t.
I don’t know how to respond to him, so I stick to a safe topic. “Your sister mentioned putting a window unit in my room.”
“Where’d they put you?”
“Third floor.”
“Fuck that. Follow me.” He shoves back from his chair, and I do the same.
Being alone with him is a bad idea, but when he grabs my hand, I don’t pull away. I welcome his touch and hate myself for craving it.
He takes me down the hallway, leading me to a back room that has a restricted sign on the door. “You can stay here. This is my private room, but I never sleep here. Has a bathroom and the walls are thick enough the noise from the bar shouldn’t disturb you.”
“Won’t your wife get pissed?”
