His eyes don’t miss the way Bronwyn’s barely able to hold herself up. With a sigh, he admits, “Me neither, Brother.”
My eyes go to Knight, who’s been standing at the door waiting, and I notice he’s got two small bags in his hands. Wanting to minimise Trip being overwhelmed with too many strangers crowding him, I instruct, “Take the bags up to my room.”
As a good prospect, he doesn’t hesitate to obey and steps around us.
He’s appeared again in only a few moments, and it’s then that I suggest to Bronwyn, “Want to go upstairs and get Trip settled down for the night?” I suspect it’s well past his bedtime.
I see the struggle as she tries to pull herself together. Making her voice light, she turns to her brother. “Time for bed, Trip.”
The words seem like a trigger for him as he stands. His eyes are firmly fixed on his sister as she leads the way up the stairs. Atleast nursing me has one advantage – she already knows where to take him.
I follow behind, but stay standing in the doorway as I watch her encourage him through his bedtime routine, reassuring him that he’s cleaned his teeth earlier, but checking if he needs another piss. Apparently, he does, and she shows him the bathroom.Christ, she’ll make a good mother one day, if this is how she treats her sibling.
My bed is high, but somehow, he manages to clamber onto it. Bronwyn hovers behind him, and I can see she’s itching to help. I’m taking in as much information as I can, so I know how to treat him. As of tomorrow, it’s just going to be her, me, and him, alone in my house. The fucking house I never intended to live in, but bought dirt cheap to do up and sell. As she settles the kid, I start running over in my mind the minimum furniture I’ll need to acquire.
Once he’s settled under the sheet, she sings gently to him, her voice melodic, and I even find myself wanting to close my eyes. It must be comforting, even in a strange place, to see the kid relaxing. When he finally falls asleep, Bronwyn, at last, turns and looks at me.
I hold out my hand. “Come down to the clubroom, have a drink and relax, darlin’. I expect you’ve been running on fumes for the past few hours.”
She glances back at the boy who’s already in dreamland. “I should stay with him.”
“You and I need to talk.” My voice is firm, with a hint of a suggestion that she needs to explain herself for requesting the club’s help. Part of me squirms knowing I’m being a bastard. She’s already told us enough, but the asshole part of me wants to be around her a little bit longer.
Tomorrow, fuckwad, she’s going to be in your house.
But will I be there with her? That’s a question I can’t answer. I shouldn’t, not with very inappropriate thoughts that are filling my head, all driven because she’s in my room, and later, will be in my bed. While my cock perks up and doesn’t care what hole it enters when it comes to the sweet butts, I’ve a feeling it would be different with her. Hell, just the thought of her lying between my sheets tonight is enough to turn my dick rock hard, along with the mental torture that I won’t be there beside her. And not only because of the cockblock that’s her brother. What a time to come to the realisation I’m very much attracted to her. This innocent, whom I’ve been told firmly, I can’t fucking have.
Could I control myself if it’s just me and them alone in my house? With no Saint watching my every move? Truthful answer, that would be fucking difficult. There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t want her, but try to tell my dick that.
She’s a virgin. It’s plain to see she’s never known a man’s touch, and I can’t be the one to defile her.
A woman like her needs forever, not a one-night stand. And apart from the sweet butts, I never go back.
What the fuck do I find attractive about her? Sure, her body is sin wrapped up in a small package, and though she might have the goods, she’s no knowledge how to use them. I prefer women like Star, who know what they want and just go for it. Or like Heaven, who likes a good hammering with my thick cock. Said cock that would split a virgin pussy in two.
Quickly, I snap out of my thoughts when she approaches me. “Okay, it looks like he’s out for the night. Poor kid, he’s exhausted. I’ll come down for a while if you need to talk to me.”
Now I start to regret ever having asked her. What the fuck was I thinking?
By the time we’ve walked down the stairs, the heavy metal is belting out from the jukebox again, and all the sweet butts have appeared and are in action with the men. Trixie’s giving Tempesta blow job as he’s seated on a couch, Woody is hammering into Heaven up against the far wall, and as for Star, she’s lying on the pool table, giggling as Words and Rattler go at her at the same time. And,oh fuck, Sweetie is lying on another couch letting Winchester take her up the ass.
Risking a glance at Bronwyn, I see her face has blanched. Hastily, I urge her over to the bar and give her a reason to face front.
“What’s your poison?”
I see her eyes give an interested glance toward the bottles lined up behind the bar. A look of almost longing comes over her, but then she shakes her head. “I’ve never drunk alcohol before.”
“Your dad wouldn’t allow it?” I guess.
Her grimace lets me know I’ve hit the nail on the head. I gesture to the prospect behind the bar. When Heathen comes over, I ask, “We got any wine?”
The shake of his head and barked laugh give me the answer. But showing he’s been listening, something I don’t blame him for – how’s a good prospect going to move on if he doesn’t eavesdrop to find out everything he can – he makes a suggestion. “We’ve got soda. How about I make a drink mixing some beer with lemonade?”
“Good choice, Prospect.” I illuminate Bronwyn. “It’s alcoholic but light, and probably a good start. I think you’ll like it.”
“I don’t want to get drunk. I’ve got Trip to care for…” She stops as I bark a laugh.
“You won’t get drunk on a couple of shandies.” Though I think to myself, it might relax her a little, and maybe help me get to the bottom of why it was so urgent she needed to get her and Trip away this particular evening.
