Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
He just smirked. “You know how old ladies are—they hate being apart. Can’t say my dick complained though.”
I barked out a laugh, nothing showing on my face at the old lady comment. I might have known if I’d been smarter when I was younger, but I chose the wrong woman to marry, and it had caused me nothing but hell since. I had to instead either rely on my hand or one of the club bunnies to get off. I knew Wendy was fucking around, too, but I didn’t give a shit.
She could fuck whoever she wanted as long as she didn’t bring them into my house, and so far, she hadn’t. She was at least that smart. We just had a silent agreement of sorts to make sure neither of us was caught.
“How’d the run go?” I asked him, ready to get down to business.
“Smooth. Met up with Grim, Alex, and Bullet in Houston. Did the exchange. Headed back home. I’m waiting on a call from River to find out when he wants his shipment.”
River was the president of the Fathers of Mayhem MC. He was a silent, broody type, and he never expanded his empire, only keeping what he needed and never taking over more territory. Men that were powerful but weren’t power-hungry were the ones you needed to watch out for, and also the ones you wanted to keep on your side.
Especially since River’s old lady had an attachment to the president of the Sons of Hell, whose stepson was the son of Alejandro, the Mexican cartel’s leader. One fuck-up with River could send everything Scorpion and I had worked together to build into destruction.
Scorpion reached into his cut and pulled out an envelope, handing it to me. “Do your count so I know we’re good,” he said, inclining his head to the envelope in my hands.
I pulled out the wad of cash and began to count. Scorpion sat quietly, his eyes shut, but I knew he was aware of every single thing happening around him. He was like me—didn’t let his guard down a single bit, not even during sleep.
Once I’d counted twice, I put it back in the envelope. “Count’s good,” I told him. “Go on out and enjoy the party. I’ll be out in a bit.”
He nodded once and left my office. I got up and put the money in the safe to deal with tomorrow during church, and then I pulled the books back out to finish looking over them.
Work now. Play after. That was how I always did shit.
And fuck knew I needed to play—preferably in some wet pussy that didn’t fucking argue with me about petty bullshit.
CHAPTER TWO
Aaliyah
It was too early for this bullshit.
I’d worked late last night at the clubhouse, making sure liquor was stocked, there was enough beer, and making sure all the glasses were cleaned and spotless so the guys would have what they needed before the scheduled bartender for the evening came in. The Texas charter of Satan’s Worshippers MC was riding in today, and I knew there would be a party. I was off tonight—the other bartender, Lani, taking the shift—but I still needed more fucking sleep.
Which was near impossible to get when your boyfriend was on one of his fucking rampages, thinking I was sleeping with one of the club guys. And trust me, the thought had crossed my mind since I had seen the way they fucked and knew they’d be good at it. They fucked like savages and had their women screaming like porn stars.
Unlike my jackass of a boyfriend who couldn’t find the clit even when I fucking pointed it out to him. He was the “get my nut and fall asleep” kind of guy. My sex life fucking sucked. I didn’t know what it was like to get off with a dick. The only orgasms I’d gotten had come from my own toys or my fingers.
I wouldn’t even still be with him if I didn’t fucking need somewhere to stay. He was a grade-A asshole who thought his shit didn’t stink.
News flash, it did.
“Dirk, I’m trying to sleep,” I groaned.
He grabbed the blanket and flung it back. I snapped my eyes open, glaring up at him. “Resting up from being a fucking slut last night?” he seethed down at me. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed before standing up to my full height. Like fuck was he talking down to me.
“I was working—pouring fucking drinks, restocking liquor, and cleaning fucking dishes, Dirk. How many times do we have to fucking go through this?”
It was a constant argument with us, but my earnings paid most of the bills here. Dirk couldn’t hold a steady job to save his fucking life. Even now, he was working for a temp service in the city that was an hour away from where we lived because no one around here would hire him.