Total pages in book: 212
Estimated words: 207966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1040(@200wpm)___ 832(@250wpm)___ 693(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1040(@200wpm)___ 832(@250wpm)___ 693(@300wpm)
I’d come out hunting for a light, guessing Dina who spent a few hours in my room last night swiped my Zippo. That chick is good with her mouth, but looked like she had light fingers. She wasn’t happy I didn’t want her hanging all night – but I was less than thrilled she showed after I had to cut out on her after being called to take care of that business with the guy that beat up his ex-girlfriend. That business got Bront in the shithouse. He’d be on shithouse duty for the foreseeable.
But Dina wanted a helping of my cock and wasn’t going away easily without it.
I found a way to communicate I don’t do overnights without pissing her off too much, though she probably scooped my Zippo to make sure I call her again.
The clubhouse was jam-packed with family right now and it’s never a good idea to have a casual hookup around during times like this unless everyone knows her as a stray. Because the next thing you know, the club women are trying to adopt someone into their crew that you’re not serious about, and that can go wrong in a lot of ways. Besides, I don’t invite women to spend the night. Ever.
Beyond wanting to light up, I also wanted to poke my head out to make sure Prez saw I was up and alive before they rolled out. He should be able to leave knowing I’m on the ball, that his property’s in good hands. I’d expect nothing less from my team if I were wearing his boots.
“Oh yeah?” I greeted at his mention of an assignment as I moved behind the bar and grabbed a book of Deke’s Roadhouse matches from a box with about five hundred books of them. I lit my joint and met the eyes of the girl standing there.
“Guess that assignment would be me,” was how she replied from behind a mug with steam curling up from it. And that’s when the husky voice wrapped around my favorite appendage.
She had to be mid-twenties, thick, wavy blonde hair to her waist. A natural blonde. She wore black leather pants, stiletto boots, and an off-the-shoulder red crop top.
“Oh yeah?” I repeated. And at my direct stare where I saw more than she probably realized I saw, her eyes slid quickly away.
That was when Prez told me she’s under our protection as she’s come to share intel that’d likely save lives, extra-precious ones. So, it’d be me taking the lead on keeping an eye on her in addition to looking after the clubhouse and the businesses for the weekend.
“I’ve volunteered to be treated like a hostage,” she put in, lifting her chin and looking me in the eyes again, that pain raw, rippling, “But it’s all good. Safest place for me right now is as a Doms’ hostage.” She shrugged.
“It’ll be all right, babe,” Deke said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “For the foreseeable, you’re under Jesse’s care. His word is law. Yeah?”
“Okay,” she said softly, eyes aimed at her mug.
Deke made the introduction, “Jesse Garcia, meet Gianna Jones.”
She smiled, but it was weak and didn’t look like it belonged on her face. “JG and GJ. Aww, that’d be cute if this were our love story.”
Fuck me, that voice.
“Never know,” I put in. “Could be.”
And then I watched the smile die a slow death on her pretty face before she sourly replied, “Yeah. Heard that one before.”
And for some reason, I felt that in the gut. It was just a throwaway remark, and not something I’d even throw out there typically. I’ve always been good at reading people and what I was reading from Gianna Jones wasn’t good.
Her body language, the way her eyes changed, she reminded me of some of the strays my mother went out of her way to show care to. Women who know how to smile around their pain, how to fake what they’re feeling so you don’t know what burdens they’re carrying. I’ve seen enough of it, it’s impossible to miss.
Deke piped up. “Stay here, Gia. Grab a seat and drink your coffee. Jess, walk with me just quick?”
I followed Prez outside to the deck that overlooked our parking lot. We had our temporary clubhouse above his bar, Deke’s Roadhouse. The new clubhouse was being built behind fences behind not just Deke’s Roadhouse, but also Deke’s two other adjacent family businesses, the garage where I worked and the motorcycle dealership where we sold bikes and parts as well as biker clothing and accessories.
“Right,” Prez launched in, “You cool with this? I’d appreciate your help, brother. You’d be doin’ me and the club a solid.”
“Absolutely,” I said immediately.
“She’s a Sioux Falls bunny,” Deke added.
“Heard of her.”
He jerked his chin up. “Yeah. She’s also stepsister to that gash that set up the boys with that gangbang video.”