Vicious Cycle

Home > Romance > Vicious Cycle > Page 11
Vicious Cycle Page 11

by Katie Ashley


  Bending double, Rev wheezed out a few breaths. “My pleasure,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

  Willow happily reached for Rev’s hand. “Can we get ice cream today?”

  Rev refused to meet my glare. Instead, he placed a finger over his lips. “What did I say about keeping secrets?”

  She giggled. “Okay.”

  As they started for the door hand in hand, I shook my head. I’d seen Rev, with busted and bloodied knuckles, beat a man within an inch of his life. But you put him in a room with a kid, especially Willow, and he was a fucking teddy bear. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like when he finally had a kid of his own.

  Although I had indulged in a few X-rated fantasies involving Alexandra, I still thought she was a good match for him. I needed to stay on his ass about asking her out. When I’d first mentioned it to him, he’d argued that he didn’t want to make things complicated for Willow. I told him he was being a pussy, and then he’d walked away. I guess it wasn’t the best pep talk to get him back into the game.

  Alexandra emerged from the bathroom wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She looked a hell of a lot different out of her school clothes. I also couldn’t help imagining for a second what she looked like without any clothes on at all.

  She slung her bag over her shoulder and threw her hand up at me before heading out the side door. Whether or not she realized it, she was easing into our world. She didn’t find it necessary to ask where Willow was. She knew that someone had come to escort her home. Maybe she didn’t realize whoever drove Willow was followed by two prospects for added protection. Of course, she might’ve had some questions as to why Archer slunk out of the gym after her. I knew Case wanted her watched regardless of where she was.

  When Bishop came out of the ring ten minutes later, I decided it was time to head back to the compound. As I started out to my bike, Alex’s car still sat in its space. One of her jeans-clad legs hung out of the door. The hood was up, and Archer was bent over it, assessing the damage. At the screeching sound of the car refusing to start, I knew a shot alternator was the reason she was still there. When I walked up to the car, she banged her fists on the steering wheel. “Dammit!” she cried.

  “Easy, now.”

  Her gaze snapped up to mine. “This is the second time this week my car won’t start. The mechanic who worked on it swore to me it was fixed.” Under her breath, she mumbled, “Asshole.”

  “Come on,” I said, urging her with my hand.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, come on. You’re not going to solve anything by sitting there and pitching a fit.”

  “I was not pitching a fit,” she growled.

  “Easy, White-Bread. I’m not the enemy here—got it?”

  She exhaled a frustrated breath. “Fine. I’m sorry.”

  “Look, I’ll get one of the club’s mechanics to come over and fix your car. Archer can wait here with it and make sure nothing happens to it. In the meantime, you can ride home with me so you can still teach Willow.”

  Alex contemplated my words. “Is this mechanic good, or is he just going to take me for a ride?”

  I laughed at the potential double meaning of her words. “He’ll do a good job, or he’ll answer to me.”

  “And that’s sufficient motivation?” she asked curiously.

  Cocking my brows at her, I asked, “What do you think?”

  Instead of replying, she exhaled a long breath. “Fine,” she muttered before she grabbed her purse. “Feel free to take the cost out of my pay.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary.” When she started to protest, I held up my hand. “What you do is worth far more than we pay you.”

  Ducking her head, she nibbled on her lip. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Dammit. If fired-up, angry Alex didn’t turn me on, then shy, appreciative Alex made my dick twitch.

  When I got to my bike, I picked up my helmet to give to her. “Since I don’t have an old lady, my bike isn’t outfitted with a bitch seat. You’ll just have to sit really close to me.” Instead of taking the helmet, Alex remained frozen, staring at the bike.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head furiously back and forth. “I’m not getting on that motorcycle.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “Because I just can’t.”

  “You don’t strike me as the chickenshit type.”

  Her dark eyes flashed venom at me. “I’m not … chickenshit. I’m just practical. Motorcycles are very dangerous.”

  “What happened to you wanting to ride one?”

  “That was about me finding a way to change the subject before so you and Rev wouldn’t upset Willow any further by brawling at the table.”

  “We weren’t brawling,” I countered. Once again, I shoved the helmet at her. “Look, White-Bread, I ain’t got the time or the energy for your particular line of bullshit. It’s really pretty simple. You ride home with me and teach Willow, or you sit here in the hot-as-fuck parking lot, waiting on our mechanic, who may or may not be able to fix your car right now.”

  Tentatively, her hand reached out for the helmet. It didn’t escape my notice that she was trembling. “You were right.”

  “About what?”

  “I am chickenshit.”

  I laughed at her acknowledgment. “There’s nothing to be scared of, babe. You just hold on tight to me, and I’ll do the rest. Okay?” She took a step closer to the bike. Drawing in a deep breath, she slid the helmet on. As she threw a leg over the seat, I gave her my best genuine smile, to which Alexandra gave me a goofy two thumbs-up.

  Shaking my head, I slid onto the seat in front of her. When her hands gripped my cut, I reached behind me to bring them around my waist. “This isn’t the time to be shy. Hold on tight.” I then gunned the engine. When I tipped the bike off the kickstand, Alex clung to me like a second skin. Her thighs clamped against mine, and it took everything within me to keep my dick from reacting.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I shouted over the roar of the pipes. “Ya know, I would never let anything bad happen to you on my watch.”

  “I wish that made me feel better,” she murmured.

  “Trust me, Alex.”

  Her fearful eyes met mine. She gave a slight jerk of her head. “Okay. I trust you.”

  I knew it took a lot for her to say that, and it caused a weird tightening in my chest. Without another word to her, I turned back around and started easing out of the parking lot. The moment we got out onto the road, Alex molded herself against me again. I hadn’t had a woman on the back of my bike since Lacey. My brothers might have a new piece of ass on their bike every week, but to me it meant too much to give a ride to just any girl. And even being as close physically as I had been with Cheyenne, I never had her ride with me. Now, just because of one fucked-up alternator, I’d broken my rule.

  As we sped along the streets toward home with Crazy Ace, another one of our prospects, on my tail, I couldn’t help enjoying the feel of Alex’s arms around me, her fingers splayed into my chest. My mind immediately flashed to pulling her around to straddle me, arching my hips against her jeans-clad pussy. I couldn’t help groaning both at the image and at my out-of-control thoughts. The last thing I needed was Alexandra to feel me hard. She would probably freak out and fall off the bike, trying to get away from my perverted ass.

  Finally, we reached the compound. I eased my bike into a spot and killed the engine. Glancing behind me, I asked, “You okay?”

  Surprisingly, she grinned at me. “Yeah, I am. Once we got started, it wasn’t so bad.”

  “Glad to hear that.”

  She hopped down and took off the helmet. As she handed it back to me, she said, “Maybe you’ll take me riding again?”

  While I was stoked she wanted to go again, I knew I had to shut her down. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, babe. You had some car trouble—that’s it.”

  Alex stared at me for a moment
before bringing her hands to her hips. “Don’t flatter yourself that I was insinuating I wanted anything more from you than another motorcycle ride.”

  Before I could say anything else, Rev came out of the clubhouse. “There you guys are. Willow was getting panicky.”

  “Sorry. My car wouldn’t start.”

  Rev glanced between her and me. “And he gave you a ride on his bike?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Wow. He doesn’t ever let women on his bike.”

  While I shot Rev a “fuck you” look, Alex’s eyes widened at me. “You don’t?”

  Scratching the back of my head, I replied, “I don’t like to be bothered with a bitch when I’m riding.”

  With a roll of her eyes, Alex said, “Just when I think you might have redeemed yourself even a tiny bit, you go and say something like that.”

  I couldn’t help chuckling as she stomped past Rev and into the clubhouse.

  When he glanced at me and raised his brows, I shook my head. “Don’t ask until I’ve had at least two beers.”

  He laughed and followed me inside.

  Two hours and three beers later, I was still shooting the shit with the guys when Alex and Willow appeared. Putting down my fourth beer, I headed over to them. “Rev’s waiting on you. Head on down to Mama Beth’s.”

  Willow nodded. After giving Alex a hug, she sprinted for the back door, where she took Rev’s hand and tugged him outside.

  When I saw Alex staring longingly at one of the guy’s beers, I said, “It’s been a long day with some bumps in the road, so let me buy you a drink to make it up to you.”

  Her brows rose in surprise at my offer. “You want to buy me a drink?”

  “Sure,” I replied, giving her my most convincing smile.

  “Is this your way of apologizing for being a dick about the motorcycle ride?”

  With a shrug, I replied, “Maybe.”

  “Still can’t say you’re sorry, can you?”

  I grunted. “Not really sure that I need to, but if it makes you feel better, I’m sorry.”

  Alex grinned triumphantly at me. “That was a pretty shitty apology, but since it’s coming from you, I’ll take it.”

  “Does that mean you’ll take a drink from me, too?”

  “Won’t your mother be expecting you for dinner?”

  I shook my head. “The boys and I have to fend for ourselves when it comes to dinner on Wednesday nights. That’s when Mama Beth has her ladies’ Bible study down at the house.”

  “How terrible that you might actually have to cook for yourselves,” she mused, the corners of her lips turning up in a teasing smile.

  “When it comes to cooking and cleaning, we’re pretty much shit out of luck.”

  She laughed. “Sounds like a typical man.”

  Motioning to the bar, I asked, “What’s your poison?”

  “Depends. If I’m at home and wanting to slowly unwind, I’d go for a beer. But after a long day like today, when a quick buzz would be good, I’d go for tequila.”

  I snorted. “Hard stuff like tequila? You’ve got to be shitting me, White-Bread.”

  “Nope. Patrón Silver if you have it.”

  “I thought you’d want some white wine.”

  She grinned. “I’m such a paradox.”

  Rolling my eyes, I said, “Big words again.”

  “I have two sides that don’t really go together or make sense.”

  “I would have to agree.” Waving Cheyenne over, I said, “Give me two shots of Silver.”

  Cheyenne gave me a slight glare before reaching under the bar for the Patrón. She set the two shot glasses down on the bar a little harder than she had to before pouring in the white tequila. Without another word to me, she headed down to the end of the bar, where some of the other guys sat.

  Alexandra eagerly reached for her shot glass. Raising it, she cocked her brows at me. “Bottoms up?”

  With a nod, I grabbed my glass. “Bottoms up,” I echoed. As I brought the glass to my lips, I eyed Alexandra, waiting for her to pussy out. Instead, she sucked down the tequila in one gulp and didn’t even use a lime.

  Once I finished mine, I grinned at her. “Impressive.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Another?”

  “I really shouldn’t.”

  “Come on. Live a little.”

  “Riding a motorcycle and getting drunk off tequila on a school night? I’d say you’re a bad influence on me.”

  “I take that as a compliment.”

  She laughed. “I imagine you would.” She then handed me her shot glass. “I’ll take you up on your offer.”

  “Good.” When I glanced down the length of the bar, Cheyenne once again glared at me. I didn’t know what her fucking problem was. I was just having a drink with Alexandra. It wasn’t like I was fucking her on the bar or something.

  Without a word, she came over to me. She slammed the Patrón bottle down on the bar. “In case you two want more.”

  And then she stalked away. Alex glanced from Cheyenne’s retreating form over to me. “I don’t think she’s a big fan of mine.”

  With a shrug, I replied, “Doesn’t matter.”

  “When she looks at me like she wants to scratch my eyes out, it does matter.” Alex ran her finger over the rim of her tequila glass. “Are you seeing her?” she questioned softly.

  “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Grabbing the bottle of Patrón, I poured us both another well-needed shot. Without answering her question, I raised my glass to her. “Bottoms up again.”

  Alex took her glass and then clinked it with mine. “Cheers.” We then both downed the shots, shuddering a little as the alcohol burned our throats. “Now, answer my question,” Alex demanded in a no-nonsense tone.

  “Okay, but you’re not going to like it.” I poured myself another shot. Surprisingly, Alex slid her glass over for a refill. Once we downed yet another one, I said, “I’m not dating Cheyenne, but I’ve been fucking her for over a year.”

  Alex’s dark eyes widened at my summation. “I see.”

  “Hey, you asked.”

  “Actually, I see a lot more. She wants more from you, but you’re not willing to give it. Right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t you want to settle down now that you have Willow?”

  “Willow doesn’t need some woman forced on her to play mommy. She has Mama Beth. Besides, Cheyenne isn’t mommy material. I’m not sure she’s even wife material.”

  “That wasn’t exactly the question I asked, but your evasiveness about the subject of marriage and commitment speaks volumes.”

  “Look, I’m always honest with the women I’m with. What bullshit fantasies they get about me is their own damn problem.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “You’re such a romantic.”

  “Well, well, who do we have here?” a voice questioned behind us.

  Alex whirled around a little too fast, causing her to stagger on her feet. “I probably should have eaten something before having those three shots,” she murmured.

  “Maybe you should have fed the poor girl something, Deacon,” Case’s wife, Kim, chastised.

  “You know I’m more about getting them drunk than keeping them sober,” I replied with a wink.

  Kim smacked my arm playfully before reaching over to hug me. As she pulled away, her green eyes shot me a questioning look. I knew she was wondering what in the hell I was doing partying with Alex, especially right in front of Cheyenne. As the president’s old lady, she was in charge of keeping the peace between the wives, girlfriends, and club whores. From her expression, I could tell she thought the whole situation had trouble written all over it.

  Although I wasn’t one to ever want an old lady, Kim was one of the best. With her humor, over-the-top personality, and heart as big as her natural double Ds, she made a hell of a president’s wife. Case had fallen head over fucking heels for her the moment he saw her dancing
underage at the Lounge. At first the seventeen-year-old blond bombshell didn’t warm to thirty-year-old Case’s come-ons. Like me, she’d run away from foster care at fifteen and had been living hard the last two years. But once she turned eighteen and he started showing her his softer side, the one his brothers had no idea existed, he finally won her over. They married a year later, and they still couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, which was also evident in their five kids ranging from three to twenty.

  Besides the wrath of Mama Beth, Kim was one of the main reasons that the Raiders never dealt in any prostitution. She’d been forced down that road for a period of time when she was on the streets, and Case respected the pain she had experienced too much to take anything on business-wise besides strippers.

  “Where are your manners, Deacon? Introduce me to your friend,” Kim said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “This is Willow’s teacher, Alexandra Evans.” Motioning to Kim, I said to Alex, “This is our president’s wife, Kim.”

  Alex extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” Kim replied with a smile.

  Tiny strolled up then with a clipboard in his hand. “Hey, boss man. We just got some deliveries that need taking care of.”

  I nodded. “Excuse me, ladies.” After I hopped off my stool, I turned to Rev. “Keep an eye on her,” I said in a low voice.

  “Sure thing,” he replied.

  It took a good fifteen minutes to take care of the inventory. It needed a little extra care supervising it out to the warehouse, considering what was inside—the latest gun shipment we were holding for our Tennessee chapter of the Raiders. Once it was secured inside, I headed back to the clubhouse.

  Music blaring out of the jukebox, along with the sounds of whistles and catcalls, met me when I came back in the door. I couldn’t imagine what the hell was going on. Then I did a double take at the sight of Alex on top of the bar, dancing with Kim. But she wasn’t just dancing. No, she was singing off-key as loudly as she could with Kim to “Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

  “Well, fuck me,” I muttered under my breath.

  About ten of the guys encircled the bar, watching and cheering them on. Of course, most had their perverted gazes fixed on Alex. Her limber body served her well in ballet as well as bar dancing. Each sway of her hips and slide of her hand down her body caused my dick to swell. It was either cut and run or get Alex the fuck off that bar. Of course, there was also a third option, which had me getting her off the bar and taking her to my room to fuck her brains out.

 

‹ Prev