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Chapter One
Bear
“Grab those balls, baby, before you get a concussion.” Grinder. Of course it’s Grinder. I’d recognize the voice of one of my Sons of Khaos brothers in any situation—this not being my favorite.
“Argh! Yes!” The girl’s voice doesn’t ring any bells, but to be fair, I don’t tend to dip my wick in the Khaos Khunts. Nothing against them, in particular, but I don’t fuck where I eat. Also, my mama taught me better than that.
Still, like a bad car crash, I can’t help looking over my shoulder from my seat on the couch. And sure enough, Grinder’s got a blonde—maybe two, who the fuck knows?—sprawled out on the pool table of our clubhouse bar, holding on for dear life while he’s pounding her from behind with both his hands gripping her ass cheeks.
“Fuck yeah, your pussy is so fucking tight, baby.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn back around and raise a brow at Boner. “He’s your roommate, can’t you make him empty his ballsack at your place?”
Boner just shrugs while the grunts behind me turn to long-winded moans and theslap-slap-slapof skin on skin grows louder than the evening crowd at the Khaos clubhouse. Par for the course because someone’s always fucking someone. Or getting a blowjob. Or whatever. It’s part of the scene on big party nights and tonight takes the cake.
Literally speaking.
Not only is it Thanksgiving but it’s also my best friend, Psycho, and his incredible old lady, Mac’s, first wedding anniversary, which means cake was the main attraction. At thirty-one, he’s now married with a kid we affectionately call Baby Psycho. Not that Mac approves. Far from it.
“Harder, Grinder. Fuck, I’m gonna come!” Oh for fuck’s sake.
“Fecking Christ, Grinder! Are you actively trying to traumatize my baby?” I grin so wide I’m sure I look like a lunatic when I hear Psycho’s growl, then what sounds suspiciously like a slap to the back of the head.
“Ow! I was about to spill my load and now I’ve gotta start all over again, asshole.”
I groan just as Psycho flops down beside me, his hands on both of the baby’s ears.
“Hurry the feck up, mousehole.”
I chuckle at Psycho’s weak attempt at toning down his cussing. I mean, seriously, what the fuck was that?
“Don’t judge me. I’m trying out new ways of not cursing in front of Gryffin.” The burst of laughter that escapes me is so unexpected that it quiets the entire clubhouse down for five whole seconds. Which is saying something considering these guys can cause small earthquakes with the noise they’re capable of making.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Here we go, maybe this is the finale and we can all move on from this shitshow.
“Grab my stick!” Psycho and I look at each other like we’re trying to figure out quantum physics.
“I can’t reach it.”
What the fuck? Isn’t his stick inside her? Fuck, I hope so because I need another beer and I don’t want to watch them fucking on the pool table I’d rather be using for… pool.
“Not that stick, my pool stick.”
Oh dear God, please no. The images invading my brain aren’t healthy. If he tries to fuck her with the pool stick, I pray to Baby Jesus it’s been disinfected because the sheer number of dirty hands that have touched that thing should be illegal.
“Oh shit!” Boner is now standing, totally invested in the scene behind me, and to be honest, nobody is surprised by that. In fact, it’s more surprising that he’s not over there sharing her. “Oh yeah, choke her, Grinder, make her gag.”
“I’m gonna kill all y’all motherfuckers.” Well, there goes the wholeno cursingthing.
“Grinder! What the heck?!” Uh oh. Mac’s in da house. “Take it to your suite!”
“Oh shit. We’re all in trouble now.” Psycho’s words are barely whispered as he sinks into the couch, hoping his wife won’t see him.
“No need, Mac. I’m… almost… ahhhhh fuck yeah!”
Well, I, for one, am glad that’s over.
“Yesssss!” The blonde sounds happy and satisfied too, and hopefully this is all over now.