Page 123 of Devil’s Disciples

Her eyes widened a little. “It won’t be about sex?”

“I won’t even mention it.”

“Promise?”

I clenched my fist and extended my arm.

She looked at it, and then at me. “Is that what you do to make a promise?”

“It’s a biker thing.”

She locked eyes with me and pounded her fist against mine. “Tomorrow night sounds fine. My house at six?”

“Good with me.”

“Come hungry,” she said. “I’ll have something for us to eat.”

Eating dinner at a chick’s house without having sex was another first for me. Knowing I wasn’t going to get so much as a blowjob out of the deal would normally turn me away. As I stood there and admired her golden-brown eyes, I really didn’t give a fuck one way or another if we had sex.

Kicking it with her and having another meal together would be a nice change of pace.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said.

The fact that I was eager to see her again should have bothered me, but it didn’t. For the time being, I decided to blame my desire on the lure of an awesome blowjob and her interest in discussing history.

I gestured toward the exit, hoping that was all it was.

If it was anything else, it didn’t fit my lifestyle.

Not. At. All.

47

Kimberly

Sundays were the one day I didn’t bother setting an alarm. My boutique was closed, I had no obligations with others, and had nothing I needed to do. For me, it was a day of resupplying my mind and body with rest.

Someone banging on my door stirred me from my sleep. I glanced at the clock. An eight o’ clock in the morning invasion could only come from two walks of life.

The police, or Jennifer.

With some reluctance, I tossed the blankets to the side and rolled off the edge of the bed. After glancing in the mirror, I pulled my matted hair into a ponytail and walked into the living room.

The knocking continued, so rapidly that it eliminated the police from being the culprit. I meandered to the door and yanked it open.

Dressed in sweats, slippers, and a hoodie, Jennifer slid past me and shuffled toward the kitchen. She looked like she just got out of bed.

“Seriously?” she said over her shoulder. “You haven’t had coffee yet?”

I turned to face her. “I was asleep.”

She dropped a pod into the machine and grabbed a cup from the cupboard. “He just dropped you off?”

“Huh?”

“It was like, I don’t know, ten after eleven or something. He pulled up, you got off the bike, and then he just left. What happened? Was he a douche?”

“No.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “He was awesome.”