“Hey, baby,” she mumbled.
I put my hands on her waist and gave a little squeeze before sucking my bottom lip into my mouth and letting it go.
Her eyes sparked when she focused in on me. “Had a little too much to drink. Charlie is a whore. Bitch gave me tequila, and I told her no tequila,” she slurred. “I told her twice!” she said, hiccupping. “No fucking tequila.”
Fuck, she was too drunk to…well, fuck.
I dragged her body tight against mine, loving the feel of her tits pushed up against my chest. The material of her dress was tight and clingy, showing every fucking curve that God had graced her with, and as I held her to me I got a hard-on that I thought might punch out of my jeans if I didn’t blow my load soon. Her pupils dilated as she felt me press against her stomach.
“You want me to take care of that, baby?” She grinned, her arms wrapping around my waist and moving lower to squeeze my ass.
Yes, my dick screamed out. I dragged one of my hands through my hair and let out a frustrated breath.
“Nah, babe, I’m all good. Let’s get you home,” I said instead, pressing a quick kiss on her mouth. She tried to force the kiss deeper but I pulled away. Not that I wanted to pull away. Fuck no. What I wanted to do was pull up that dress, turn her around, bend her over with her palms against the wall, and slam my dick home.
But I wouldn’t—not like this.
She deserved more than that.
My blue balls were crying at my chivalrousness.
I took Laney’s hand in mine and started to lead her across the clubhouse, looking back to see her eyes wide as she watched Cutter, Dexter, and Casa all groping the same club bitch. Laney’s tongue flicked out to wet her lips and my dick laughed in my face, because yeah, there was no fucking way I wasn’t getting in that tonight, no fucking way. Drunk or not, my woman wanted it.
I nodded to Dom as he came back inside, but the man was a moody motherfucker that night. Had been for weeks. Definitely some beef going down with him and Butch. They were usually inseparable, yet they’d been avoiding each other for weeks. Not sure anyone else had noticed much, with all the other club drama going on, but I sure as shit had.
Rider had ordered me to go check on our new warehouse earlier, but Butch had offered to go instead. Said he’d needed some space, whatever the fuck that meant. I’d let him take our bike since it was the least I could do for taking the job for me.
I walked Laney outside, wanting her on the back of my bike but knowing she was too drunk to stay on it, so I headed to one of the trucks instead. Hated driving those things, always felt so trapped, like the air was being sucked from my body. No, I much preferred the freedom of my bike. Couldn’t fucking wait to ride the bike Butch and I had built. It had been our project for over a year; every piece was custom built, and she was fucking beautiful—almost as beautiful as Laney. We’d finished her earlier that day, but I’d barely had time to ride her round the block. The next day I’d ride that bike into submission, though, and tonight Butch would get to ride her and test her power out.
A prospect was standing with the trucks, and I called for the keys as we got close.
“You want me to take her home?” he asked. “You can head back in and party.”
Fuck, it would be so much easier to do that. Just let the prospect take her home and make sure she didn’t choke on her own vomit. That was their job, and I could trust him, too. He’d only been prospecting for a month or so and was barely eighteen, but he was a good kid, and it was already looking obvious—to anyone that bothered to look—that he was going to be a great fit for the club.
But I couldn’t let him take my woman home. That shit wasn’t right by me. What would I do? Head back inside, get drunk, and find some pussy that was available to fuck? Fuck that. No pussy would ever match Laney’s. She was it for me. Hadn’t looked at another woman since I’d been inside of her, and there was no way I would until the day I died. Plenty of brothers fucked around on their old ladies, and most of the women just turned a blind eye to it, but I couldn’t do it to her. I knew I’d kill any man that put his dick anywhere near her, so why should it have been any different for me?
Besides, unless their pussy was made of gold, ain’t nothing that any woman could do for me better than Laney already did.
“I’ve got it,” I called back to the prospect, and he nodded before reaching into his pocket and throwing the keys across to me. I caught them in one hand, not even missing a stride as I continued to walk toward the truck. I unlocked it and opened the door and then reached around and grabbed Laney by the waist, hoisting her up into the truck in one swift movement, loving the way she let out a little squeal as I did.
“I love you,” she slurred in my ear. “So so much.”
“Yeah?” I asked, pulling back to look at her.
She nodded and gave me a drunken smile. “You know, Jesse, I never thought I’d have this.”
I put my hand on her legs and pushed them inside the truck, though really I wanted to slide my hand up that skirt and tear her panties off. I slammed the truck door closed before heading round to the driver’s side and climbing in. Laney sat back against the seat, her head turned toward me.
“Never thought you’d have what?” I asked as I started the truck, desperate to get home.
“This, baby,” she slurred. “This thing that we have. Always felt like there was something wrong with me, like I wasn’t worthy of love, and then you came in, all big and butch and bikerish, and you loved me.” She gave a little giggle and hiccupped.
“Think you’ll find that it was you who came into my club, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t big and butch then. Also pretty certain that there ain’t no such word as ‘bikerish,’” I laughed back.
She slapped at my thigh playfully, but then her playfulness gave out to something else and she dug her nails in and gripped my muscle before sliding her hand up.
“You know what I mean,” she whispered, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. Her hand reached my cock in my jeans and gripped it, and I groaned. Pretty sure my dick was about to explode in her hand.
