Behind Dozer, I see Junior walking our way. Wrecker sees him too and they exchange a glance and a chin lift. Whatever Wrecker plans to do to Dozer has been okayed by the Misery Club president.
“Turn around baby,” Since prison, Wrecker’s become hard. Not just his body which is cut from quarry rock, but his emotions. His face is impenetrable. I know he’s pissed though. I turn slowly.
“What’s it say?” Neither Dozer nor Laurel answers fast enough because he barks it out again. “Can you read?”
“Property of,” Laurel responds with a so what expression.
“That’s right. Property of. You folks need a little education. This,” he reaches a hand down over my shoulder and lifts the open sleeve of my vest away from my body, “marks her as off limits to everyone which means little bitches like you don’t say a word to her unless she gives you clearance.” The little bitches insult is clearly directed to both Dozer and Laurel. He turns and addresses the ragtag collection of Misery members. “Being part of an MC isn’t free drugs and alcohol and a non-stop stream of pussy. It’s about having each other’s back. When she’s wearing my cut, an insult to her is an insult to me. When I’m insulted, I strike back.” He spins and pierces Dozer with a glare. “You wanted to lick my girl’s pussy? Then get on your fucking knees.”
“We’re not in the Death Lords motorcycle clubhouse; this is the Misery motorcycle club.” Dozer waves a hand. But no one comes forward. Not Junior, not any of them. Dozer looks around and then at Laurel. He takes two steps away. “This is just a girl I fuck. She doesn’t mean shit to me.”
Laurel gasps and stumbles back as if he struck her. I didn’t like what Laurel had to say about me, but I sure as shit don’t like how Dozer treats her. My leather vest might say that I’m the property of Death Lords, Wrecker specifically, but he’d never treat me like I was a piece of trash.
Behind me, Wrecker’s hand slides under my short skirt. “One of you is going to make it up to my old lady. One of you is going to lick her pussy until she comes. Which one is it going to be?”
“Don’t do it,” Laurel begs but Dozer ignores her. Belonging to this club is more important than she is; important enough for him to bend his knees. Do I even want Dozer to touch me? He’s an asshole. Before he gets to the floor, another voice interrupts.
“Your girl is too fine for Dozer.” A tall muscular guy with a buzz cut shoulders his way to the front. A gray t-shirt is stretched tight across his chest and his cut looks like it had to be custom fitted around his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He’s about Wrecker and Abel’s age. There are minute creases near his eyes. “Chelsea, I’m Big Unit but you can call me Big.”
“Misery VP,” Wrecker noiselessly whispers in my ear.
“Nice to meet you,” I say faintly. I can see where he gets his nickname. My eyes involuntarily drop to his waist and the worn white patch in his denim indicates that he is likely big all over.
“What about Annalise?” Laurel hisses, grabbing at Big’s arm.
“Get gone, Laurel,” he replies but doesn’t take his eyes off of me.
“You were saying?” Wrecker prompts.
“I’m willing to lick your girl’s pussy as reparations for my brother’s insult.” He glides into the space left by Dozer who backs up a few feet. Big kneels down in front of me and he’s so tall that his head is near my belly. He drops to his haunches and places his hands on my knees. “Nice socks.” He unintentionally echoes Dozer’s earlier words.
“You okay?” Wrecker asks. This is the time for me to laugh, to say I’m fine, to walk away but with Big’s hands on my knees, creeping upward, and Wrecker’s hard body behind mine, I’m at a loss for words. My skin feels too tight for my body and my clothes are too hot despite the fact it’s colder than the North Pole outside.
I manage to ask what I think is the most important question. “Are you okay?” Meaning, are you okay with another man touching me? Putting his tongue on the part of my body that only you—and I—have ever touched?
“Yeah, I’m real good.” He places his hands on my panties and pushes them down. Big grabs them and tugs them off the rest of the way. He hands them to Wrecker who tucks them inside a pocket. “Wrap your arms around my neck, baby,” he instructs.
I raise my arms and Wrecker ducks his head under my wrist. Below me, Big has lifted the edges of my skirt, holding the hem against my hips.
Wrecker wraps one steel arm around my waist and then twists my chin with his other hand. “Open up for Big, baby. Let him apologize.”
His mouth takes mine at the same time that Big’s tongue drags along my sex. My knees buckle and it’s only because of Wrecker’s arm around my waist that I don’t fall. Big’s fingers curl around my hips and draw me closer. Despite the audience that must be watching, I feel cocooned between the two large bodies of these men and my world has narrowed to their mouths on me.
I feel the rasp of Big’s facial hair against my tender thighs. His thumbs press deep into my legs. Wrecker drops his hand from my chin, trails it down my spine and then dives under my skirt. Big doesn’t pause a moment when Wrecker’s two fingers slide right inside me. He pumps shallow at first and then deeper and Big’s lips and tongue catch Wrecker’s rhythm.
They’re both fucking me—one with his mouth and the other with his fingers and the pleasure is killing me. Wrecker catches all my moans in his mouth and there are a lot of them. The duality of the sensations—the two mouths, the four hands, the twin big bodies around me—is too much for my body to hold.
He doesn’t stop kissing me and neither does Big. Big’s tongue is thick and strong. His mouth engulfs me and my weak legs begin to shake as I feel bliss overtake me. Wrecker swallows my gasps as I cling to him and the two work in tandem, wringing every last bit of ecstasy from my body.
12
WRECKER
Chelsea’s body sags against me as Big pushes to his feet. His face is wet. Abel hands him a paper towel and he wipes the moisture away. I smooth down her skirt and make a display of straightening her leather vest.
“Thank you Chelsea,” Big says.
She blinks at Big and then smiles, “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
“Nah, the pleasure was all mine.” He reaches out and cups the back of her head. I loosen my grasp and he presses his forehead against hers.
“It was the nicest apology I’ve ever received,” Chelsea says. Big chuckles in response and runs a finger under her chin.
Reluctantly he steps back. “Tastes sweet man. I envy you.”
“A good old lady is hard to find,” I agree. The rod in my pants is steel hard. I can’t wait to take her upstairs into that shitty bedroom and make her come again but there’s a little more club business to take care of.
I press a tender kiss against her forehead and tuck her under my arm. Abel moves right up behind her. “This here’s my old lady. Within the club, the old ladies are untouchable. You fuck with her; you fuck with all the members who wear the patch. That’s what the club is about. It’s about loyalty and having each other’s backs. If you aren’t interested in that, then you should walk out right now.”
The crowd is silent until Dozer decides to open his trap. “You aren’t Misery. You can’t tell us what to do,” he snarls.
I grab the handgun the stupid fuck has tucked into his jeans like he’s some wannabe gang banger and whip it across his face. “I’m the Misery enforcer on loan from the Death Lords. I don’t make the law here but I can enforce it.”
I whip him across the face again and the blood spatters. Girls scream and people scatter. Everyone except Abel, Big, Junior, and Chelsea. There’s blood on her shirt but she hasn’t moved an inch. None of these other bitches are worth even a pinkie of hers.
“You gonna stand for this?” Laurel screams.
“Take your skinny ass and your man and go.” Junior strides forward. Laurel grabs Dozer and drags him toward the door. She’s crying hysterically and Dozer is moaning, holding his broken j
aw. “Oh, and Dozer,” Junior calls. “Don’t forget to leave the cut. It’s not yours anymore.”
He turns on his heel and walks back into the kitchen. Low chatter starts up after a few moments of stunned silence. Big stops Dozer before he can leave and we all watch as Dozer sullenly pulls off the vest and throws it at Big. Weepy Laurel and another girl, one who doesn’t wish to leave by the way she stares longingly at Big, follow behind.
“Go on upstairs,” I tell Chelsea. “I’ll be up in a sec.”
She gives me a small pat on my chest and runs upstairs.
In the kitchen I find Junior. “We need to be worried about him going to the police?”
Junior hands me a beer. “Nah. We’ve got a lot of dirt on him and he’s a coward.”
“Cowards are exactly the type to cause you the most harm. I’m here to be an enforcer. Once you’ve got a firm hand on the reins, I’ll bow out but for now, you trust me and I trust you. It’s hard because neither of us have earned that trust. We’re going in blind. I’m relying on my dad’s faith in you and you’re relying on him too.”
His shoulders tighten and then he exhales, a long sigh of exasperation and frustration. “The crew’s a mess,” he admits. “Mostly it’s good guys but there are some bad seeds. Toward the end, my old man was getting lazy. He didn’t want to do the business of discipline. Just enjoyed the parties and the women who liked to screw a man with a patch on his leathers.”
“It might take some time, but we can get it done.”
“You? Aren’t you on parole?” Junior raises an eyebrow.
“This is a big city. Lots of shit happens that people don’t know about,” I reply. I can take care of one man.
“I’ll take care of him.” Big appears. “Your man Abel and I can clean up the mess.”
“I got this,” Abel agrees.
Junior contemplates this for a minute and nods. “Fine, but not tonight.”
I knock fists with Abel. From the determined look on his face, he’d be taking care of this problem whether I agreed to it or not. Fine. It makes sense even if the restrictions chafe a little. I like to imagine I’m free, but there’s still a small shackle around my ankle. The irritation of that confinement is offset by the fact I have a good brother with me and my sweet old lady waiting.
“You mind if I head up?” I ask Abel. I don’t like leaving him alone with no one to watch his back.
“I’m good.” He tilts his head toward Big. Abel likes him and I guess I do too because I wouldn’t have allowed him to touch my girl if I’d felt there was something off about him.
Up in the bedroom, I find Chelsea already under the covers. I shed my clothes and crawl between the clean sheets she brought.
“You okay?” I rub my thumb along her forehead.
She closes her eyes and is silent for a long time. Eyes still shut, she says, “I thought by getting away from Fortune, it’d be different but it’s not. You have your parole dictating what you can and can’t do for the club and we’re always going to be the Harrison siblings even though we aren’t blood related.”
“Spending a few years together when we were teenagers isn’t a problem. Those things are just labels. They don’t mean anything. We can’t run from our problems.”
“So we fuck them face on?”
“You mad?” I frown. I’d given her an out but she didn’t take it.
“No, it was hot. I don’t know that I want to do it again, but if I hadn’t wanted it, I know I could have stepped aside.” Her eyes flick open and she rolls to her side so she can stab me in the chest. “But I’m not extending the favor. I’m too jealous.”
I grab her finger and pull it up to my lips. “I’m not interested in another woman sucking my dick or plowing anyone’s pussy but yours.”