I rolled away from him. I didn't want to see him leave after we were finished talking. "Are you staying tonight?"

"Yeah. You okay with that?"

I rolled back over to look at him. "What's going to happen in the morning?"

I wasn't just asking if he was going to make me breakfast or skate out before I woke up, and he knew it. I was asking about us. What was going to happen when we woke up was life. I wanted to hear how he would define his life with me.

He kissed my nose. "I'm going to get up, make breakfast for you and Becky, and then we'll take her to school. You'll stay here while they fix your car. I've got some club business to take care of during the day, but we'll meet back up at the club tonight when you start your shift. I want you all to myself tomorrow night-can Becky go to a babysitter?"

I nodded. He fit himself into my life like a puzzle piece. Corners and noses all fitting perfectly. It was what I wanted to hear, but it all seemed too good to be true. In a few days, we would wake up from this dream and reality would set in.

It would probably be right around the time the guys came home from the run. Colt could pretend my job didn't bother him now, but what was he going to do the first time I disappeared upstairs with Skeeter, Bear, or Rip? Would he still want me when I dressed up in my old stripper gear and let the guys grope me as I danced on the pole?

My job had never seemed this bad before. The guys treated me well. Some of them would bring me back little souvenirs on their runs. They were all very careful not to show me too much attention and I was very careful to flirt and treat them all equally. The s.e.x between me and the guys was always a transaction, impersonal, sorta like exercise. When had it changed to obscene?

Probably right about the time I had fallen in love.

Did he love me? Was it me he loved, or his own idea of who I was? He said on the porch the other night that he knew me. And he did. He knew me. The me that existed within my soul, not the me that turned tricks in the clubhouse. Surely that had to count for something.

There was no denying it. I wanted this life that Colt was promising me. We had only known each other a few days and I shouldn't be ready to love him, but I was. The only thing standing in my way was my job.

"Colt, do you want me to quit my job?"

I wanted him to say yes. I wanted him to tell me that he didn't want to share me with any other guys ever again. It wasn't fair, but I wanted all of those promises right now, up front.

He grunted. s.h.i.t, he must have fallen asleep.

"Babe, whatever makes you happy. You can keep working at the club or stay at home, get another job, I don't care. As long as you don't turn tricks, I'm happy."

He gave me a squeeze and then leaned back down on the pillow and started snoring.

My heart stopped. He didn't know.

He didn't know I was a prost.i.tute.

Chapter Sixteen.

Colt I ran my hands up and down her body. Yeah, waking her up for s.e.x was a s.h.i.tty thing to do, especially at this early hour. But she was hot and naked in my arms. Besides, I was hard as h.e.l.l and the only woman I wanted was her.

Rubbing my d.i.c.k against her a.s.s, I reached around to touch her c.l.i.t. Another day, I would wake her up with my mouth, but this morning had to be a quickie. Tate had already texted me. The guys were back and I wanted to talk to Tate one last time before the guys met me. I needed to hit the road soon, but I could stay just a little longer.

When she moaned and began to spread her legs, I knew I'd hit gold. Her p.u.s.s.y grew wet as she woke up. I stroked her harder as I whispered in her ear. "Come on, babe. I want to watch your t.i.ts bounce as you ride me."

She shook her head and opened her legs wider, straining for her own release. I heard her gasp as I eased my finger inside her p.u.s.s.y. She was tight but ready. Rubbing my palm against her c.l.i.t, I f.u.c.ked her with my finger, enjoying her quiet little moans. But I wanted to feel her come around my c.o.c.k. I wanted to watch her face as she o.r.g.a.s.med and screamed my name- Whispered my name. The kid was still asleep.

Nice and slow, I drew out my finger. "Time to get up, babe."

She turned to face me and I took her with me as I rolled onto my back. She sat up with my d.i.c.k tucked snug against her a.s.s. d.a.m.n. It was a beautiful sight. Her gorgeous blond hair was tangled around her shoulders, and her blue eyes were sleepy and half-lidded as she lifted herself up so I could feel her wet p.u.s.s.y against my c.o.c.k. Inch by inch, she slid down. f.u.c.k, that felt good. When I was in Lompoc, I would have used this memory to jack off every f.u.c.kin' night. I'd never seen anything so s.e.xy in my whole life.

"I want your pretty little p.u.s.s.y to come first, babe."

She nodded and got to work. Soon she was riding my c.o.c.k and angling me to hit her G-spot. Every time she took me as full as she could and her t.i.ts bounced in rhythm. I rested my hands on her hips. I didn't want to guide her and disrupt her groove, I just wanted to feel it. I wanted to feel her grinding with my c.o.c.k inside her.

Finally, her body tightened and spasmed. Her p.u.s.s.y closed around me so that I couldn't hold it any longer. She took me with her as we both crashed over the edge. She collapsed on my chest and we both lay there catching our breath.

"That's way better than coffee," I said against her hair.

She giggled and rolled off, facing me. "Hey, there's something we need to talk about."

f.u.c.k. Her eyes were big and blue and concerned. Dammit. My perfect woman was about to tell me to go f.u.c.k off. Or maybe just tell me she only wanted my c.o.c.k. I'm not sure which was worse. I also didn't want to hear it.

This relationship was moving like a d.a.m.n bullet. Hot straight out of the barrel. It was bound to either lose momentum and fall or crash into someone's chest cavity, probably mine. I just wanted one d.a.m.n day to be in love with her.

She was gonna let me down easy, like she did the other night on the porch. Because I was a G.o.dd.a.m.n coward, I didn't want to hear it.

"We'll talk tonight, babe. I gotta go. I have some early club business."

I met Tate for coffee at some greasy spoon around the corner from the clubhouse. It was full of big burly men dressed in waterproof gear. Dockworkers, I suspected. No one batted an eye at our cuts when we sat down in a booth.

"A bit early for a meet?" I sipped my coffee and stared over the rim at him. He looked tired, but awake. Almost like he never went to sleep last night. Interesting.

"I figured you had so much p.u.s.s.y you were ready for a break."

I narrowed my eyes. Krista wasn't just p.u.s.s.y and I would never be tired of her. But Tate didn't understand that. It was common in our world for a man to use a woman and then throw her away when he was bored. But Krista was different. I was different. She wasn't the kind of girl who gave b.l.o.w. .j.o.bs in the men's room for a twenty.

"What's going on?" I asked.

He was about to respond when the waitress came by to refresh our cups. "You want me to leave the pot, darlin'?"

"Naw, we'll be out of your hair soon enough."

She topped me off and went back behind the counter.

"Everyone's back. I want to introduce you at church this afternoon."

I raised an eyebrow. My club wasn't that formal. A new member came in, he just blended with the crowd. We let people form their own opinions. "Any reason why? Someone unhappy about the patch-over?"

s.h.i.t. This wasn't good. If anyone was nervous and this patch-over didn't happen, I didn't know where that would leave me with Hawkeye and Volk. They were counting on me to patch in this club. The extra income could do a lot for us on the national level. I could set Krista and Becky up in a place in Berdoo and we'd all live in the California sunshine. But not if this patch-over didn't go through.

"To tell you the truth, none of the guys are real thrilled. They don't hate the idea, but they like their freedom more. They see your club as a threat. Like our brotherhood is gonna dissolve if we join you."

I couldn't believe my ears. We were really talking about f.u.c.king emotional bikers?

"Here's the deal. Your VP is gone, you don't trust the guy acting in his place, and you're getting pretty f.u.c.king old, Tate. Your operations are going to s.h.i.t, and as soon as the other clubs realize it, your little independent club isn't going to have a way to defend your G.o.dd.a.m.n territory. So either they need to get on board with a little bit of help from the Horde or figure out a way to earn after the Storm Kings dissolve, because that's what the future holds."

I leaned back in the booth. He could have f.u.c.king told me this the day I got here. Instead he waited until every member of his club was in town and his back was against the wall. I wasn't sure if that was strategy or poor leadership.

A patch-over had to be a unanimous vote. If the guys weren't sure about it, I had my work cut out for me.

"Look, I'm up here to convince these guys, right? I just need to sell it to them a little. They need to want to be part of the Demon Horde brotherhood. Just help me sell it.

Finally, Tate nodded. I cracked my knuckles. Time to get started.

The clubhouse was quiet when I pulled up. Ten bikes were parked in the lot outside, all perfectly lined up. The only way to get that level of precision is if you rode together a lot. It was gonna be my job to convince them that they start a whole new brotherhood with my club. It wasn't gonna be easy.

Everyone was still asleep when I arrived. I sat at the bar, drinking coffee. They had to wake up eventually and I wanted to be there when they did.

"Who the f.u.c.k are you?"

It was guy in flannel pants and a Southern accent so thick you could sink a switchblade straight through. His hair had grown out and was pasted down on one side. He was scowling.

"Colt, from the Demon Horde, California." I extended my hand.

It was a good shake. Solid. Not enough of a squeeze to indicate challenge, but enough to communicate strength. He seemed decent enough.

"If there's any coffee left, you could be General f.u.c.kin' Sherman and I wouldn't give a s.h.i.t."

I took a sip of my coffee to hide my smile. I liked this guy.

He went straight to the coffeepot behind the bar. "I'm Skeeter. So, you're here to tell me the gospel of the Horde, huh? Make me call you brother?"

I shrugged. A lukewarm reception was better than I had antic.i.p.ated. "Let's start with calling me a friend."

The guy nodded and dumped a bunch of sugar packets into his coffee. "Tell me about yourself. I like to know who my friends are."

s.h.i.t, I didn't prepare a speech or anything. But it would make sense that the guys would want to know.

"I grew up in the Horde. My dad was a member and when I hit fifteen I started to prospect. Did a stint in Lompoc a while back for guns. I guess that's about it."

Bikers gossip more than little old church ladies and it was very possible that they all knew my shame, that my f.u.c.king old lady sent me and half the club to jail for nearly a year.

"Tough break." Skeeter washed out his cup in the sink and then turned to me. "Clean up after yourself. Krista doesn't need to do dishes all night. Those are the rules of the house. I'm gonna go shower. See you at church."

I was surprised at Skeeter's warning. The guys in my club would leave their s.h.i.t all over if we had someone like Krista to clean up after us.

One by one, the guys filtered in and gathered in the bar, waiting for church. I met Charlie, Mule, Clint and some other guys whose names I forgot. It was a lot of "good to see yous" while they sized me up.

Ten minutes before church, Bear made his appearance. I knew him before we were introduced. He had a wild beard and tons of curly hair. He was the only one who could carry off that road name.

He sought me out instantly. Scanning the room, once he saw me he walked straight over. A couple guys tried to get his attention as he walked, but he was focused. On me.

"Bear, VP." He stuck out his hand.

"Colt, Horde."

We shook. Or I shook; he squeezed. Hard. I may be tall, but Bear was huge. I could match that handshake, but playing the squeeze contest for f.u.c.king dominance was a child's game. But Bear was playing it well. So I sat there with a smile pasted onto my G.o.dd.a.m.n face and let him try to break my hand. When he realized I wasn't going to play, he grinned.

He leaned in like he was going to give me a manly hug. Patting me on the back, he whispered, "f.u.c.k you and your club."

Well, I guess he was going to be my problem. I needed to figure out how to play this. Should I take him down or make him like me? Maybe it would be best to let things float a little bit more until I decided.

At noon, Tate walked through the room and we all followed him into the chapel. It was a large room, with an oval table for officers and chairs lined up around the periphery. I sat in a chair leaning against the back wall. Fifteen guys crowded around the table and three prospects hung in the back with me. The Kings were larger than I had antic.i.p.ated. Usually these independent clubs only had ten members or so total. The Kings were large, almost large enough to have a support chapter. This would be a good merge for the Horde. The extra support and cash flow would be good. I just had to make it happen.

Someone pa.s.sed around a basket. I turned my phone to silent and dropped it in with the others. It was gonna be an intense meeting. A room full of bikers could be pretty noisy, but not chapel. The chapel was the room where the club held their monthly meetings. Our chapel in San Bernardino was loud and filled with cigar smoke. This chapel was silent as a tomb. We were all waiting for Tate to speak.

"Welcome. I appreciate you all coming today. Let's go over regular business first. Bear, can you tell us about the latest delivery?"

"Three hundred grand even. It all went good, boss. We had to wait a few days because the 'Vette wasn't clearing the computer. Rip was able to fix it, though. After that it was smooth sailin'."

With the Kings' twenty percent cut, and then split that amongst the members, it was a decent haul with minimum risk.

They went through the earnings statements from the casino and other legit businesses. I liked the fact that there were no surprises; everything was exactly the same as I read in their ledgers.

Tate cleared his throat. "And now I'd like to introduce our friend."

All heads swiveled to me. s.h.i.t.

"He's a member of the Demon Horde's lead chapter in San Bernardino, California." Tate nodded to me. "You all know that we have been considering a patch-over with the Horde. We're not voting on it today, but Colt is up here to see how we operate. He's gonna make a judgment call to make sure we are compatible. You all got any questions for him?"

"Will we have to prospect again?" A guy in his mid-forties asked that question. I could understand his worry. I never wanted to prospect again either.

"No. There will be a one-year probation period where you're not allowed to vote on national business. Once that is over, you will be admitted as full members. We don't intend to make you scrub the latrines or play guard duty at a warehouse. You'll be given the fullest respect."

Hawkeye told me to antic.i.p.ate that question. A single small club like theirs would soon be swallowed up by the other clubs that were moving in. They understood the need to unify, but also didn't want the s.h.i.t duties of being prospects again.

The crowd seemed mollified with my answer and we all sat for a moment in silence as someone tried to think of the next question they could ask.

Silence. Minutes' worth of f.u.c.king silence. No one had any other questions, no one wanted to talk to me. Great.

Tate banged the gavel. "All right, meeting adjourned."

Chapter Seventeen.