Page 15

Dougal winces as he walks into the clubhouse, where I’m sitting at the bar.

“You ran into a door face-first?” I knew it was coming after the way Raven rearranged my face. It taught me a valuable lesson. To stay away from Ashley, no matter how much I want her, or how much she calls to me. I nod to Dougal, put down the cold pack, throw the bloodied cloth in the bin and make my way to the door. In no mood to talk to anyone, I cock my leg over the old girl and start her up, her deep rumble comforting me. Not that I need comforting, but it has that effect on me, every time. She vibrates through my bones and feels as though she’s part of me. The only thing better is feeling Ashley’s hot body up close against me.

Where the hell did that come from? I can’t even think about that! She’s just another girl, family at that. It’s not as if I’ve suddenly developed feelings for her. I’m a hit it and quit it kinda guy. It’s time to visit Violets again. At least, that’s what I convince myself of. I shake my head as my gate comes into view. I must have been on autopilot, as I can’t remember even leaving the clubhouse. Not good, Vegas, not good. I roll into the garage. Once inside, I make my way straight to the kitchen. My jumbo-sized fridge contains not a lot of food, but plenty of beer, so I can anesthetize myself. I open the freezer side and get a pack of peas out. I hate peas, and ten wild horses couldn’t make me eat that shit, but they make a great ice pack.

I call Sparks and let him know I won’t be in today. I need to get myself sorted and my head on straight. Rummaging through my kitchen drawers, I find what I need—Tylenol and ibuprofen. I take both and lie on the sofa with an ice pack on my face, trying not to think. When I wake, it’s getting dark. Must have needed that. The swelling looks a bit better, but my eye remains almost closed. I’m pissed at myself. How could I have been so stupid and let things get this out of hand? I shove myself up, make my way into the hall, enter the gym, and kick the door shut with force. The next few hours I spend working out, as hard as my face will let me. I run on the treadmill, row across the Atlantic and back until the rower creaks, then move over to the sand sack hanging in the corner and let all my frustration out. The bag swings wildly as I hammer it, punch after punch. I imagine Rusty’s face when I hit it and try my hardest to make it look like ground beef! Makes me feel a little better. He’s a cunt and I hate the bastard. With passion!

???

I arrive at the garage the next day to find everyone staring at me. By then, the word is out that Raven has rearranged my face and why. Nothing I can do about it. Brothers gossip, and sometimes they’re worse than women. Ratchet walks up to me and slaps my back.

“Stupid, bro, but brave. I hope it was worth it.” He smirks at me, and I nod at him, going to my space to arrange my tools and get on with the day. I swear, anyone else comments and I’ll wrap the rather large torque wrench I’m holding around their head.

Luckily, everyone else gives me a wide berth. My filthy mood radiates out from me, and I don’t need any of these dickheads’ advice. I know I fucked up.

I finish my first repair, a cylinder head gasket on a small Jap ‘bike’. No idea who’s it is, I just fix the damn things. Probably belongs to a chick. Has to, because it’s bright yellow, and I bet she has a yellow Power Ranger suit to go with it.

My stomach growls in protest by the time lunchtime comes around. I hear snickering behind me and Sparks saying, “This should be interesting.” I turn around and groan. Ashley has turned up, carrying three pizza boxes, a six-pack, and a box of doughnuts. As much as I hate to admit it, she catches my eye, and her eyebrows go straight up to her hairline, causing her to nearly drop the pizza boxes. She catches herself quickly and turns to Sparks and Halfpint.

“Thanks for fixing my car, guys. I know you won’t take money, so I thought I’d bring you lunch. Three Meateaters in large, fully loaded, garlic bread, Bud, and doughnuts. If you don’t want them, just say and I’ll take it to work with me.” She smiles, mischief on her beautiful face. I smack myself on the head—mentally, not physically, because that would make me look stupid.

I see her leaning in to Sparks and whispering, and I see Sparks look at me, then at her, giving her a nod. She places the pizzas on the workbench, and like hyenas, everyone descends. Ashley storms out of the garage, slamming her car door and revving the shit out of her engine. I’m not sure what pissed her off, but man, that door slam sounded mad. I feel just a little bit sorry for her car. I quietly get my share of pizza and doughnuts, then carry on working, keeping my head down. Even this shitstorm will pass, eventually.

After a long day, I get home and put my feet on the table. I grab a beer from the fridge and am settling in to watch a bit of TV. As I switch it on, Sons of Anarchy is mid-episode. The series drives me insane. It’s responsible for many Jax Teller wannabes and is giving real MCs a bad name.

If it was at least a tiny bit realistic, I wouldn’t mind. But it’s not. It’s a fantasy of what people like to think MCs are about and bears very little resemblance to the real thing.

Not able to stare at Jax’s white sneakers any longer, I switch to the sports channel and watch a rerun of the weekend’s football game. During my second beer, my phone dings. I can’t be bothered, and am sure if it’s anything urgent, whoever it is will ring. The dinging continues a few times. Then blessed silence. An hour later, the group text message tone goes off. I open that one without looking at the other ones.

Ferret: Church, Sunday as usual. All members meeting, no excuses.

Ferret: Emergency meeting for all who received this message. Tomorrow, 6:00 p.m. No excuses are acceptable.

I groan. What the hell is up now? Just lately, there isn’t a week without emergency meetings or shit going sideways. That’s it. I’ve had enough for the day, and I take my ass to bed. Shrugging off my cut, I hang it over the back of the chair in the bedroom, then take my gun out of my shoulder holster and put it on the bedside table. No matter where I am, I carry. Call it an insurance policy, but my phone always rests next to my gun.

I make my way into my ensuite and turn on the shower. Man, it feels good to wash off the dirt from the day. I let the hot spray soothe my aching body and relax, thinking about today and the way Ashley made a hasty exit. She probably realizes by now that I’m not worth the shit that goes flying, but I can’t get her soulful green eyes out of my mind. And I can literally taste her and feel her lips on mine. That was the hottest kiss ever.

My dick agrees and makes his agreement know. Traitor! I close my eyes and imagine Ashley’s hands on my skin, her lips on me, and her tongue chasing mine. I can feel her erect nipples grazing my chest. My hand grabs my cock and gives it a few hard pulls. I grunt, as I feel her hand pushing mine away. She looks up at me with those eyes I could lose myself in and drops to her knees.

She strokes my cock, keeping her eyes on me, before she licks from root to tip, her other hand massaging my balls. I won’t last if she carries on like this. She slowly and gently licks the pre-cum drops of the head of my dick, pushing me close to the edge instantly. This is torture, and I struggle to restrain myself, to not fuck her mouth with all I have. I dig my hand into her hair and pull her toward me. She willingly follows and wraps her lips around me. Tight. I drop my head to the wall of the shower and groan. Oh yes, just like that.

She picks up her tempo, and my hips involuntarily push forward to the rhythm she’s setting. I feel myself hitting the back of her throat, but she doesn’t gag. Instead, she changes the angle slightly and swallows around me until I see stars. I can feel the tingle at the base of my spine and my balls draw tight. I push in one last time and release with a roar, planting myself in the back of her throat as she swallows all of me. Every . . . last . . . drop. What a beautiful sight.

I slowly open my eyes, look down at my hand, and am disgusted with myself. If Raven knew I just jacked off over his sister, he would literally shoot me. I wash the evidence of my guilty pleasure away, turn on the cold tap, and let the icy water run off me until I feel breathless. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I brush my teeth and switch off the lights, making my way to my bed. I drop the towel and climb in, my cock still at half mast, but I push any other thoughts of the minx who occupies my thoughts out of my mind. Not sure what kinda spell she weaved on me, but it has to stop.

I pick up my phone to set my alarm and see the message icon blinking. I open the app and look at the messages I ignored earlier. Damn it to hell!

7:00 p.m. Ash: Did Raven do that to you? Don’t bother denying it. I know it was him!

Damn, I’ll kill Sparks tomorrow. Bloody blabbermouth has been bumping his gums.

7:05 p.m. Ash: I will kill his sorry ass! I know he thinks he needs to protect me, but I can look after myself. It’s not as if we tapped ass in the middle of the bar. It was just a kiss! I’m furious. I can make my own decisions and you should not bear the brunt of it! If he has something to say, he can say to my face!

A small smile plays on my lips. She has fire, that is for sure! Misguided ideas, but fire.

7:15 p.m. Ash: You can ignore me as much as you want, Vegas, but I will see Raven right the fuck now and will rip him a new asshole! This is not right! Not happening. He will not make my decisions. Neither do you BTW. No one controls or railroads me! You can both think again.

7:20 p.m. Ash: I’m at the clubhouse now, God help him. You’re such a coward. You could at least reply! Fuck you, Vegas, just fuck you!

I slowly release the breath I’d been holding. What the hell is she talking about? Not sure what she had for lunch, but it must have contained anger pills. She sure isn’t thinking rationally. I sit up with a start. Fuck! She’s at the clubhouse, or at least was a couple of hours ago, and is giving Raven a piece of her mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He’s gonna be incandescent with rage. I hope this isn’t what the emergency meeting is about. Is he going to take my patch? Panic rises in the back of my throat. The club is all I have now. They’re my family, not by blood but family nonetheless. I don’t know what I’d do without the club and don’t even wanna contemplate that. I’ll grovel if I have to and take shit duty forevermore, but I can’t lose my patch. Nothing and no one is worth that. Me: Hey, sorry I didn’t reply, was watching football and missed your messages. Yes, Raven punched me, but deservedly so. We both knew he would hate it, yet I kissed you anyway. You were drunk and I took advantage of you. I’m sorry. That cannot and will not happen again. Don’t give him a hard time. He did what any good big brother would do. He protects his little sister from the big bad wolf. You know what I’m like, no good for you. No good for any woman unless she has a strong constitution. Sorry, princess, it will not happen again.

I wait for a moment and see three dots appearing on my screen, showing that she’s writing. Then they stop and disappear, reappear again, then disappear. When they reappear, it ends with the dinging of my phone.

Ash: You are such a dickhead, Vegas, and a coward. I will not be dictated to. I thought what we had was worth something, but it seems I was very much mistaken! But don’t worry, I won’t accost you again, tipsy or sober. Guaranteed!

My big stick definitely prodded the hornet’s nest. I sigh, close my screen, put the phone on charge, and try to catch some sleep.