Page 3 of Property of Necro (Kings Of Anarchy MC: Illinois #1)

Chapter

Three

Pacing our bedroom like a coked-up madman, I stare at the smoking-hot redhead on my bed, covered by a blanket. She’s asleep. Not dead. Thank fuck.

“Stop worryin’,” Coffin growls from his post against the door, arms tucked across his chest. A sneer curls his upper lip.

I flip him off.

Stop worrying…

That’s easy for him to say, ain’t it? He didn’t choke their new woman to the point she stopped breathing when he came in his goddamn pants, did he? No. He didn’t. He came like a normal fucking man, with his cock out, stroking it, while he watched Prez claim her, making her ours.

Not me.

She moaned, and I exploded like a prepubescent teen, painting the inside of my jeans in cum.

Sola.

Christ .

I’ve always had a thing for redheads.

But she’s something else. Something more.

When I cut the pants and those tiny heart panties from her body, seeing her cunt for the first time… Fuck. I got weak in the knees.

Red. Pussy. Hair.

I lick my lips just thinkin’ about it.

In the corner of our room, sittin’ in his favorite chair, Necro’s hands fly a million miles an hour. She’s not dead , he signs.

“I know.”

Not that he’d care if she was. He never cares about any of our women.

Ever. They’re a means to an end. A way to get his dick wet and appease us, his best friends, his brothers.

If the women live or die, it doesn’t matter to him.

Honestly, he’s happier when they’re gone.

One less thing to deal with. They’re too emotional for him—with their feelings and shit.

That’s why I’m here.

The go-between.

The longer I keep them outta his and Coffin’s hair, the longer we can keep ‘em.

I always want to keep ‘em.

And I definitely wanna keep Sola.

“Would you care if she was dead?” I arch a brow at our club prez and gesture to the bed where Sola lies.

He shrugs and signs something I don’t pay a lick of attention to because I know it’ll piss me off.

After twenty years living with these guys—well, twenty-one with Coffin and twenty with Necro—you’d think they’d eventually deal with their mountain of fucked-up issues to finally allow someone to get close enough to give a damn about besides the brothers in our club.

Sadly. No dice.

Striding over to the dresser, I snatch a book off the top of the stacked pile and fling it across the room at Necro. The dick catches it, reads the cover, rolls his eyes, and drops it on the floor as if it’s diseased.

I’m not reading that shit , he signs.

I flip him off.

His forehead wrinkles, and his eyes twinkle. I know he’s smiling behind the mask—fuckin’ bastard.

“Maybe if you or,” I cut my sharp gaze to Coffin, “read a self-help book. Or go to goddamn therapy… you’d be more concerned that I almost killed her.

” I throw my hand toward the bed where Sola’s still asleep.

She woke up for a second when I carried her in here, then promptly passed out.

I can’t tell if it’s her body’s way of protecting itself after a stressful day, Necro literally fucked her into a coma, or I choked her too hard.

Okay. I know I choked her too hard. Bruises are forming around her throat.

But it could be a combination of the three.

It wouldn’t be the first time Necro’s cock put a woman into a coma.

The kind you never wake up from. That was years ago. We don’t talk about it.

Done with the conversation, Coffin pushes off the door, opens it, and leaves without so much as another word.

Looking at Necro, I nod toward the exit, wondering if he’s gonna go after Coffin or stay here with me to babysit the gift we know he doesn’t give a damn about.

When Dark said he wanted to bring us a woman as payment for our help in his club matters, Mama, our VP, wasn’t about to say no.

He’s got Necro’s best interest at heart, and between you, me, and Mama, our prez needs an outlet for his cock, almost as much as he needs an outlet for his violent nature.

The latter, we got covered. The former, that’s where Sola comes in. Let’s hope she lasts more than a month.

Unfolding from the chair, Necro stands, cracks his neck, and follows the same route as Coffin on his way out the door, not bothering to spare Sola a single glance. He can use her as a cum dumpster and leave me to clean up the mess he made and not bat a single eyelash.

Shaking my head at the emotional maturity of the assholes I live with, I collect the self-help book about coping with your past off the floor, toe off my boots by the door, and climb into bed next to Sola.

Because I could use a little snuggle time with our new lady, I shimmy out of my pants, toss them on the ground, and draw her head onto my lap.

Gently opening her lips with my fingers, I fit my half-hard cock inside that pretty mouth.

Expelling the cutest groan, the gorgeous redhead follows my lead and suckles the head of my dick like it’s the best damn lollipop she’s ever tasted.

“Good girl.” I pet her messy hair with one hand and open the book with the other.