Page 40 of Viking

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Viking

In the morning, I feellike shit. My head is pounding, my throat dry from all the whiskey I drank, and my stomach revolts at the stench of cigarettes and cum on my fingers.

Get a fucking hold of yourself.

I follow my nose to the kitchen and the scent of bacon and hash browns. CJ is plating up, and hands one to Arie as I lean against the doorjamb. She’s dressed in a pair of tight leather pants and a black singlet that shows off too much skin, arm, and fucking tits.Gods, is this a plot to bury me six feet deep? Because it’s working.

Arie glances up at me before she takes a seat at the table. “Good morning, Viking.”

Everyone turns to look at her, slack jawed. She talks to Calamity Jane, and she speaks to me, but not in front of my brothers.

I nod and step forward to take the plate CJ offers. “You sleep okay?”

“Actually, I couldn’t get back to sleep after you left.” She lifts her chin defiantly. “So I watched a little TV.”

I narrow my eyes. “Is that right?”

“Turns out that channel was ‘for me’, after all.”

A chorus of “oooh” fills the clubhouse kitchen, as if we’re in fucking high school.Though, to be fair, I guess some of us should be.

I drop my fork to my plate and stand, kicking back my chair. Everyone turns to look at me and I sneer. “Be ready to leave in twenty minutes. Anyone without their ass on a bike gets left behind.”

“You can ride with me, little mermaid,” Meatball says.

“Like she’d fucking fit with your fat ass taking up the seat and the sissy bar.” Gator says. “You’ll ride with me, baby doll.”

I glare at my brothers. “Arie rides with me.”

She arches a brow and I leave the room before I can do anything else stupid, like fuck her on the goddamn kitchen table with everyone watching.

***

OUTSIDE, I THROW MYduffle bag and Arie’s in the back of the Van and sit astride my bike. She exits the clubhouse with the others, and tosses her red waves over her shoulder. I don’t know whether to thank CJ or punish her for the recent additions to Arie’s wardrobe. She’s decked out in a skintight leather jacket that forces her tits together in the most fucking magical way.

I adjust myself and then hold out a helmet as she approaches. “You’re gonna want to tie your hair up. Can’t have it flying in my face as I ride. Better to braid it.”

“I don’t have a tie.”

“CJ, you got something to put the little mermaid’s hair up with?” Gator says. “Prez is worried about losing an eye.”