Page 5 of Property of Necro (Kings Of Anarchy MC: Illinois #1)

Chapter

Five

Washin’ my dick and balls in the bathroom sink I share with Rot, I snarl at my ugly mug in the mirror as I overhear my brother talking to our new toy—the redhead with green eyes. I’ve never fucked a fire crotch before. Guess I can check that off the bucket list.

I can already tell this new toy’s far more trouble than she’s worth.

Rot laid out the rules—shut your mouth, stay the fuck still, and take whatever we give.

She just couldn’t listen, could she? Now he’s in there, lapping up all the goddamn attention and giving her all kinds of mixed signals.

This isn’t what we do. We don’t cuddle in bed with toys.

We take ‘em out and use ‘em whenever the itch arises, and we tuck them back into their boxes ‘til the next time—Like a fuckin’ real-life Barbie Doll.

It’s simple.

They don’t sleep in our beds.

They don’t…

Motherfucker .

Is that her giggling?

The awful sound erupts a second time, and I’ve heard enough. I slam the bathroom door shut so I don’t have to listen to it.

Shut that bitch up.

Doesn’t she know her place? Didn’t they tell her?

I’m gonna gut Rot for bringing her to his bedroom in the first goddamn place.

So what if she passed out? She didn’t die.

No harm was done. He didn’t need to carry her like some special piece of ass out of the chapel to his room.

He should have listened to us and taken her to her bedroom.

The same room we use for every woman. It locks from the outside and has cameras.

There’s a quiet knock on the door, and I don’t have to ask to know who it is. The nob turns, and Necro welcomes himself inside as I grip the edge of the sink until my knuckles turn white and let my dick and balls air dry.

He tilts his head to the side as he shuts us in together.

“You can go.” I nod toward the door, hoping he’ll listen for once.

Not sayin’ a damn thing, Necro pushes past me, whips out his cock, and takes a piss. Once he flushes, I step away from the sink to let him wash up. As he’s busy doin’ that, I tuck my junk away in my jeans and lean my shoulder against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest.

Necro dries his hands on a towel, then turns to me.

He’s having fun, he signs and jerks his chin at the door.

Yeah. I get it. It’s been a while since we’ve had anything with a pussy in the church. None of us are keen on hangin’ at the strip club—King’s Cunts. That’s for the brothers who like to look but can’t touch shit. That ain’t us. I wanna touch. I wanna hurt. I wanna hear them scream.

Not giggle.

Prez rolls his shoulders and patiently waits for me to say somethin’.

What’s there to say?

“I don’t like her.” There, how’s that? I want her gone. Whether that’s of her own volition or we gotta bury her six feet under, it makes no difference to me.

Before Necro gets a chance to agree, the bathroom door flies open, and in traipses a naked Rot, smiling like the fucker just won the lottery.

He slaps us on the shoulders before he saunters over to the toilet to relieve himself.

“Privacy, asshole,” I snarl.

Not giving a single damn his bare ass is on display, Rot flips me the bird over his shoulder. Then, when he’s done peeing, he shakes his snake more times than necessary.

“If you do that more than twice, you’re playin’ with it,” I remind him.

Rot glances over his shoulder. “Why you lookin’, perv? Mind ya business.” The asshole shakes it again and again just because I said something. He flushes, turns around, and continues to jiggle the flaccid member.

Shaking my head at this dumbass, I curb a smile. I can’t help it. He’s an idiot, but he’s my brother, and I’m just… pissy. I don’t like change, and I sure as fuck don’t like women in my spaces. Women ruin everything.

Necro steps to the side to give Rot space to wash and dry his hands. Then it’s just us in the bathroom, loitering like a bunch of fuckin’ weirdos. One of us bein’ naked makes it ten times worse.

I point to Rot. “Put some clothes on.”

Rolling his eyes, he grabs his nutsack and tugs. “No. This is my bathroom, dickhead.”

“It’s our bathroom,” I correct. He has a bedroom on one side, and I have mine on the other. It’s a Jack-and-Jill setup.

“Yeah. Fine. But I can be naked in my bathroom. Don’t act like you haven’t seen my Jolly Johnson a million fuckin’ times.” Waggling his brows like a lunatic, he helicopters his dick.

Groaning, I drag a hand down my face, wanting this to end. Put me out of my misery.

“You’re just on your period. You want some Midol?” Rot tacks on.

“Rot,” I growl, clenching my fists down at my sides, ready to punch him in the mouth. He knows how to rile me up, and it never ends well for either of us.

“What?” He shrugs, eyeing my balled-up knuckles. “You’re always like this after you nut in a pussy. You didn’t have to fuck her.”

“Shut up.” That’s beside the point. Why I get mad when I get off is none of his fuckin’ business.

“No.” Rot puffs up his thick chest. “You’re not ruinin’ this for me.

Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next week. You’re gonna be nice and let me face-fuck the sexy redhead whenever I please.

You don’t have to touch her. Now, if you’re both in here doin’ what I think you’re doin’, get the hell out and do it somewhere else.

Or, maybe, be nice for once and come out here and talk to her. ”

Necro shakes his head as if he wants nothing of the sort. That makes two of us. I’m not talking to her. I don’t want to know her. I don’t want to see her, smell her, and I definitely don’t wanna hear her goddamn voice.

Rot knows the rules.

She’s already breaking them.

I give her a week.

Then she’s gone.

And we won’t be doing this again.

I’m too old for this shit.

I’ll get my dick wet when I’m on a run. It’s easier to duct tape a random bitch’s mouth shut and make her bleed when I don’t have to look at her the next day or answer the age-old question of, “What the hell is wrong with you, Coffin?”

Nothin’s wrong with me. Got it?

I like what I like.

And I don’t like the redhead.

Now fuck off.