“Because their men might… sleep around with the whores?”
“If an ol’ lady can’t trust her man to be faithful, they have bigger problems than club whores.” He looked uncomfortable with the topic, but not condemning of the women. “It’s not like they’re raping guys or something. Everything is consensual.”
Interesting.I’d never walked into a more perfect conversation to get someone’s opinion of my side hustle. “And what are your thoughts on these club whores?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t really think about them.”
Women were just walking around his club, giving up the pussy, and he didn’t have an opinion? Right. “You don’t think it’s… wrong? Them sleeping around like that?”
He leveled a look at me. “I’m a recovering addict, Mila. If you’re looking for me to judge anyone, that’s not gonna happen. Lacy, Shari, and Kim aren’t some triflin’ bitches tryin’ to break up relationships. The club wouldn’t let them hang around if they were causing trouble like that. They like sex and choose to smash with a bunch of veteran bikers. My thoughts?” He shrugged. “Who the fuck cares? They’re consenting adults, and they’re not doing anything illegal. What business is it of mine who they spread their legs for?”
I don’t know what I was more surprised about, his lack of judgment or his use of the word ‘smash’ for sex. “You don’t slut shame,” I replied, impressed. Even when I baited him, he’d defended them.
Chuckling, he shook his head. “Definitely not.” He looked away.
Good to know. Not like I was looking to become a club whore. I enjoyed sex and considered it an art form, but I’d gotten into sex as a business solely because I needed the money. Still, it was good to know where he stood on the matter. There weren’t many people who’d be as accepting as Hound, and his answer was important to me for reasons I didn’t want to think too hard about.
“Why? Do you?” he asked, turning the question around on me.
I was too busy in my own head to realize what he was asking. “Do I what?”
“Slut shame?”
Oh, the irony. Biting back a laugh, I answered, “No.”
“Good, because I’d hate to see the club whores discriminated against. Shari’s one hell of a cook and the entire club would take up arms if she left because she felt disrespected.”
“Noted.” They appreciated their community pussy. Good to know. Most of my clients appreciated me, too, and those who didn’t were blacklisted. I wanted to ask if Hound had ever taken advantage of the services provided by these self-proclaimed ‘club whores,’ but thought better of it. Some answers I didn’t need, and the thought of him fucking whores made me uncomfortable.
Double standard much, Mila?
Stuffing my ridiculous, unexplainable emotions down to the pit of my stomach, I followed him through a set of doors and into a large pantry loaded with food.
“Between this and the fridges, we have everything you can imagine. There’s a grocery list on the side of the first fridge, next to the cooking sign-up, if you want anything special that we don’t already have. Feel free to help yourself to anything, except this.” He slid his hand between two boxes of rice to retrieve a bag of what appeared to be homemade cookies. Watching the door, he shoved the cookies back into their hiding spot, and wiped his hands off on his jeans, like he was getting rid of residual evidence.
“Those are strictly off limits, huh?” I asked, fishing for more information.
He nodded, leaning closer and dropping his voice down to a conspiratorial whisper. “Link’s stepmom brings them for him, and Wasp and Havoc take turns raiding the stash. I’m sure Link knows it’s them, but he can’t prove anything. The entire club is in on it, waiting for the day Link catches one of those two with their goddamn hand literally in the cookie bag.” He grinned.
It felt like we were discussing some holy texts rather than a baggie of hidden goodies. But after witnessing his pain, it was nice to see Hound smile. He had great lips, white teeth, and mischief sparkled in his eyes. Adventure lived in his smile, and I couldn’t help but tag along. “Big, scary bikers fighting over cookies? Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Havoc and Wasp are adrenaline junkies who live for the thrill. Link could solve the whole damn problem by finding a better hiding spot, but he wants to catch the bastards in the act. If that ever happens, believe me, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“I had no idea there’d be so much drama over goodies here at the fire station.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, we take our cookies seriously.”
“Are you included in that ‘we’? Do you have a sweet tooth, Hound?”
“Fuck yeah.” His smile dimmed a little as pain flashed through his eyes. “My mom wasn’t much of the cookie-bakin’ type, so home-baked goods have always been a weakness of mine.”
Most people let details like that slide, but I’d trained myself to pick up on them. I’d bet my left boob Hound had mommy issues, and that was a topic I always steered clear of. After all, bringing up the parents was a guaranteed mood killer. Not exactly the goal of someone in my line of work.
Of course, I wasn’t trying to get Houndinthe mood.
What am I trying to do?
The question smacked me upside the head, making me evaluate my motive for seeking out Hound in the parking lot. I wasn’t a people person. I could handle kids, but adult men were good for one thing: paying my bills. Bad shit happened when I let them get closer than the bedroom. As a result, I hadn’t even tried to connect with a guy in years.
