Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Your brother just called me a whore,” I counter.
“You sat on Lynch’s face within minutes of meeting him.”
It was probably closer to seconds, but I’m not going to argue the timeline since it doesn’t benefit me in this particular situation.
“Around here that makes you a whore,” Molly continues.
“Wow,” I mutter. “With friends like you…”
She chuckles, and my cheeks heat with anger.
“You don’t get it.”
“Clearly,” I agree.
“Almost every woman who walks through the front doors of the clubhouse is a whore.”
“It’s what all of the guys I saw last night expect?”
“It is,” she confirms.
“Then why be so insulting about it? More bees with honey and all that.”
“You can’t look at MC life and compare it to any form of traditional society. The word whore is insulting to you because of the standards you were raised in. Those standards don’t apply here. The women in the clubhouse aren’t insulted at being called a whore. They’re here to willingly please the men around them. They are worshipped and provided for in exchange for a good time,” she explains. “They don’t think for a second that what they do is degrading, and neither do the men because it isn’t. It’s just a way of life around here.”
“So being a whore is a good thing here?” It still doesn’t make sense to me.
“It’s mostly said in reverence. The use of the word is synonymous with the word woman.”
“And if one of the guys from last called you a whore?”
She laughs as she pushes the blankets back and finally crawls out of bed. “Okay, maybe not equal to woman. More like meaning a woman who’s available for sex. Which according to both of my brothers, I never will be. If one of the guys called me a whore, they’d probably end up—”
She cuts herself off before she completes the sentence, but I hear it clear as day.
They’d end up dead.
In most situations, I wouldn’t bat an eye, but I have a feeling that things are more than a little different around here.
Here, the phrase I can’t be late, or my parents will kill me may mean exactly what the words imply.
“My point,” Molly snaps when I just stare at her in horror, “Is that all you have to do is tell them you aren’t a whore. There’re plenty of women around to sate their needs. No one around here is going to force you to do anything you don’t want.”
“Tell them no,” I agree. “Got it.”
“You’ll be saying it a lot today, I’m guessing,” she says with a quick but sad smile. “Once word spreads that Lynch was with you last night, every man in the clubhouse is going to be looking for a piece of that action.”
“Just when I thought I was beginning to understand,” I mutter as I walk to her closet to try to find something to wear.
“Lynch is the first one to break in the new girls if he's interested. The chick I saw scampering out of that very room you were in with him last night? It was probably her first night there as well.”
“She mentioned it.” While she was fucking him, I continue silently.
“There’s a very good chance he’ll never touch her again. He doesn’t go back to the same girl twice.” Molly reaches past me to tug a t-shirt off a hanger. “The guys will eat her up like a last meal today.”
“He doesn’t do repeats?”
“He doesn’t fuck whores,” she corrects just before disappearing into the bathroom. Her words still sting, even though she just explained the difference in points of views to me.
If I’m understanding, by Lynch’s own reasoning, if he gets a girl before anyone else touches her, she’s fair game, and only a whore after messing around with someone else from the club.
I’m still trying to figure out how to stay away from all of the handsome men that Molly assures me will be vying for my body when she walks back out of the bathroom fully clothed.
“I didn’t fuck your brother,” I spit when she bends over to put her shoes on.
“Okay.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“I mean, we did mess around some, but—”
“I think I got a pretty clear picture of what happened between the two of you when I walked into that room last night and found you sitting naked on his chest,” she interrupts. “Can we not go into the micro details about you messing around with my brother?”
“Are you mad at me for it?” She frowns, and I instantly wonder if I asked her the same thing last night. I know I questioned it a million times in my head, but I don’t know if the words actually left my lips.
“I’m not… You shouldn’t have…” she pauses, killing me with her silence. “I didn’t think this all the way through. I never should’ve brought you here.”