“Thanks.”
They’ll be all right. Those guys are some of the toughest I’ve met outside of the motorcycle clubs, even if they are young. And they love their women. They won’t let anything happen to them.
Before walking away from the door, I gesture to a couple of my men who are loitering and position them outside Camile’s room. I trust my club members with my life, and so I trust them with Camile’s, too. None of them would be stupid enough to try anything on with her that she didn’t want, and besides, she’s under my protection, and I have everyone’s respect, or at least I assume I do. No one has ever challenged me for the position of club president, not here or in the original chapter I left back home.
Even so, I find myself getting antsy at the thought of leaving Camile. A part of me—a big part—wants to grab a chair and position it beside her bed and watch over her all night as she sleeps. I want to make sure Shelley is tending to her wounds properly and not hurting her further, and that Camile gets the tea she asks for, and that when she sips it, it’s not too hot. But I’m not the kind of man who goes running around after some girl, attending to her every need.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Instead, I head back into the clubhouse, needing a drink and a distraction. I want to drive these thoughts out of my head, so I don’t obsess over my daughter’s best friend all night. I’m relieved to step back into the noiseand chaos of the clubhouse. The music pounds through my ears, and the scent of cigarettes and sex fills my senses. I spot one of my guys standing motionless in a darkened corner. I only notice him because of the paleness of his skin. Everyone calls him Ghost, but right now he’s reminding me more of a vampire. We lock eyes briefly, and he gives me the faintest of nods, letting me know that everything is under control.
As the club enforcer, it’s Ghost’s job to police this place and the people in it. He is third in line, officially, after me and Smokie Saul, but in reality, if Ghost, as our Sergeant at Arms, thinks Saul is out of line, he could discipline him, too. His other role is as my bodyguard, but I don’t need one, so I mostly have Ghost making sure the club runs smoothly.
Most people don’t, but a couple of the guys can be dicks. There’s Ace, who isn’t a dick but who does get carried away, and then there’s the Numbnuts. They are a trio of men I inherited with the new club, and the only ones who I think might cause trouble. Not because they are going to challenge my position in any way, but because they do stupid shit all the time, hence their nickname.
Ghost moves silently through the crowd, and I like the way they part for him. Even the biggest and burliest of bikers moves when the tall, silent man moves their way.
My mind drifts back to Camile.Kissing. She’d said they were kissing…
A low rumble emits from between my lips, and I hadn’t even realized I’d let out a growl until one of the nearby sweetbutts throws a surprised look in my direction.Christ, I must have been loud for her to hear me over the music.
I ignore her and head straight to the bar.
“You okay, Jack?” one of the barmaids asks.
Caroline is around my age and hasn’t been working here long, but she seems confident with the bikers, and they all like and respect her, which is important to me. The women in my employment are the ones who get to draw the lines, but sometimes bikers forget where those lines are, and the women need to be strong enough to remind them. I’m happy for people to fuck on the job, but only if everyone involved is one hundred percent willing. There are things I won’t tolerate on my watch.
Sometimes, the girls behind the bar go topless, and a few have tonight since they get better tips, but Caroline has kept her tight black band t-shirt on, but she always does well for money anyway. She’s a sweetie, and the guys seem to like to chat with her.
As I look around now at the topless women, and the bikers making out with sweetbutts, I feel a rare tinge of embarrassment. When Vani was living at home, I had strict rules for the clubhouse, and none of this shit went down. Now she’s not here at this new club, I’ve relaxed that side of things, but if Camile’s going to be here, maybe the barmaids should at least wear bras.
“I will be in a minute.” I finally answer her question as I take down a bottle of top-shelf whiskey, pour a shot, down it, and then pour another.
“Go easy, Jacky-baby,” she says with a nervous laugh.
I pick up the bottle again, not liking being told what to do, even if it’s said with care. “I’ll go easy when I’m dead.”
Taking the bottle and glass, I head into the rear of thebuilding where my office is located. I’d wanted people and noise to try to block out my thoughts, but now I’m around both, they’re only irritating me. I need to work through this in my head if I’m going to come out the other side with my sanity intact.
How many other men has Camile kissed since that night at Vani’s house when I sent her on her way? Was it her way of getting back at me? It’s crazy thinking, I know that, yet I can’t seem to drive the thoughts from my head. That someone hurt her makes it even worse. She’s such a sweet little thing. Even the day she came on to me, I could see how much she was trying to be something she’s not. I’d wanted to curl my fingers in her long, silky, dark hair, pull my cock from my pants, and show her exactly what she’d been trying to mess with.
My cock is huge, and a piercing runs through the head. The idea of tipping that pretty chin up and feeding it to her had almost overwhelmed me. Fuck, I’d been so close to giving in. But someone like me would ruin her, and she deserves so much better. She needs someone her own age who will treat her sweetly. Not someone who imagines fucking her face the first time she throws the slightest bit of attention in their direction.
Never mind the fact that I’m not a good bet. I couldn’t keep Vani’s mom safe, so why would Camile fare any better with me?
Battling my thoughts, I slam the bottle of whiskey down on my desk and pour myself another shot. The fiery amber liquid does nothing to help; if anything, it’s breaking down my walls.
She’s here, on my fucking property.
Does that make her mine, as well? If I wanted her, shecouldn’t stop me, but I’d never do that. Still, the thought does make my mouth water, even though it’s fucked up.
Goddamn it, my cock reacts to that idea, lengthening in my jeans. I try to adjust myself, to make myself more comfortable, but I find my hand lingering. I squeeze myself through the denim, hardening even more. Fuck.
What would she do if I went back to her and showed her what I had to offer? I could ask her if her interest in me still stands.
No, I can’t. Even if she still wanted me—which she probably doesn’t—she’s still Ivani’s friend, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize my relationship with my daughter. Ivani is without doubt the most important person in my life, and fucking her friend would be a hard line. She wouldn’t forgive me, and she wouldn’t forgive Camile.
I couldn’t do that to either of them, even if right now I want to fuck Camile so badly it’s difficult to focus.
