by K E Osborn
“She hasn’t opened up to you about it?” Zero asks.
“I’d like your permission to find out.”
“The fuck, Phantom? You brought this person into our clubhouse. We need to know who she is! What the hell she’s doing here. Find out! Find out now, and if she won’t talk, I will have no hesitation but to force her out. I will not have dishonest assholes in my clubhouse. So, fix it! You gonna be okay with this method, Phantom?”
Well, fuck! I’ve grown attached to Billie, but she could be a problem we didn’t see coming, and this club is my family. If she won’t open up, then I’m gonna have to choose, and I will always choose the club. “I hear you, and I’m okay with that.”
“Good. Let’s have a chat with whoever that is over there,” Zero states. “And Phantom, this is your fuck up! Any shit that comes of this is on your fucking head!”
Grimacing, I dip my chin as we make our way over to Billie. Cherry and Billie glance up at us. Billie looks especially tense when Zero nods at me to take the lead.
“Billie, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with us. Can you do that?”
Her eyes widen, frantically shooting from me to Zero then back to me again. She licks her dry lips, sitting taller like her body is about to go into flight mode. “Y-Yeah?”
Rolling my shoulders, I hate even this, but I know I have to for the good of the club and my brothers. “Billie, we need to know what you do for a job.”
Her entire body sags like she’s devastated I have even asked her. She heaves out a heavy sigh, and when her eyes meet mine, Billie draws her bottom lip in by her teeth. Her focus is lost, looking anywhere but at us. Her posture sags, her head hanging low—she’s definitely showing signs of being ashamed or perhaps it’s something else entirely, but there is a problem. The regret in her eyes is clear while she simply stares at me saying nothing.
“We know it’s something off-book, not normal. So, Billie, tell me straight.”
Appearing uncomfortable as hell, she shifts in her seat, then her eyes drop away from mine. “I’m… a professional cuddler.”
Um, what the actual fuck!
My head jerks back, my mouth falls open, my mind refusing to take in the words.
The other guys widen their eyes, each one swallowing hard either from the shock or perhaps trying to hold in their laughter.
Me, on the other hand, I don’t quite know what to make of this as I blink rapidly, trying to take all this in while controlling my expression.
Denial rumbles through me that she never told me.
Am I hurt?
There is a mixture of feelings, and to be honest, I am not sure whether to walk away, flee the uncomfortable feelings, or simply burst out in some sort of maniacal laughter.
Luckily, I don’t do either as Zero huffs, stepping forward, breaking me from whatever the hell trance I was in. “What is it exactly that you get paid for, Billie?”
Her eyes slowly shift up, meeting mine again—they’re glistening with regret while she stares at me. “It’s nothing sexual... just lonely men, and on a rare occasion, women, who need to be held or want to hold me. It’s quite lucrative. I guess there are some sad people out there, you know?”
Rubbing the back of my neck to ease the tension building there, I can’t help but feel uncomfortable about all this. Okay, so she’s someone who likes to help other people, but she takes money to do it. That’s fucking weird but also kind of endearing in a way. However, for some reason, knowing that people get the privilege of holding her, it fucking irks me.
Zero grumbles a little under his breath. “The lead was a dud. Dominic wasn’t the guy who attacked you in the alley. Is there anyone else who could be after you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Okay… then I guess you won’t mind if Neon runs a more thorough background check on you. Maybe something will pop up in your profile you’re not thinking of right now or that we missed last time.”
“Sure. Anything you think might help.”
“In the meantime, knowing what you do opens a broader line of inquiry now we know exactly what we’re dealing with and the customer base we should be looking out for,” Zero states.
Billie sighs. “You really think this could be a customer?”
“Could be, or it could just be some a random attack, but we need to check all avenues. It’s not safe for you to go home right now until we have some idea about what’s happening.”
“Thanks for trying.”
“All good,” Zero grunts out, glances at me with a sly smirk, then turns and walks away. The others follow him, I’m sure to have a fucking good talk and laugh about what the hell is going on as I slide in next to Billie.
“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Cherry offers and then weakly smiles at Billie, gripping her hand in a show of support.
Billie returns the gesture to Cherry, then turns to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should have. It’s such an odd career. Some people don’t understand what it’s about. I know it’s weird, I know it’s strange, but it means nothing to me. It’s just work.”
“So your clients… they show up to hug you?”
“Yes, and believe me, that’s all there is to it. I understand how it sounds, I get that what you’re probably thinking, but there’s a huge market for lonely people who just want someone to hold them.”
My mouth opens to say something, but she cuts me off.
“And before you ask, nothing more than cuddling happens. It’s not what you think. It mainly involves people after a breakup or those who have never had a partner and want to know what it feels like to be held…” She rubs her fingers through her hair, and a single tear runs down her cheek. “It pays the bills, Phantom, that’s all.”
Reaching out, I wipe it away. “That’s why you’re so good at giving hugs!” I smile, the uncertainty is showing as she frowns and bites that lip she loves to gnaw on so much. Then I add, “Lots of practice.”
“It’s only weird if you make it weird.”
I can’t talk about this anymore.
Thinking about other men holding her, cuddling her, enjoying touching her is driving me damn near insane, so I change the subject. “Maybe this wasn’t a targeted attack, maybe it was a simple mugging?”
She shrugs. “Possibly. Doesn’t make me feel any safer, though.”
My arm moves on its own, wrapping around her shoulder and pulling her to me. I guess she has a natural magnetism, and holding her feels so damn fine, I know it’s why she’s good at her job. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here. I got you.”
She leans into my side with a warm smile. “So, we’re okay then?”
“Well, I guess people generally have to pay for your hugs, and I get them for free so…” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
She laughs, slapping my chest. “Thanks for not making this into a huge deal.”
I pull her closer. “It’s not like you’re selling your body! Wait, are you? Maybe I should be outraged. Maybe you need to think more of yourself!”
Her eyes widen as I stand, then I bend to lift her. She squeals when she flops over my shoulder. “Jesus, Phantom, what are you doing!”
“Showing you how to take care of yourself.”
She giggles as I walk her through the main room, all my brothers grinning while I take her outside to the gym. She’s still giggling, but then she lets out a cute little snort. “You know, I have a really good view from here.”
Her words make me smirk. Stopping next to the boxing bag, I slide her down my body. Her breathing catches as she wobbles a little on her feet. Her eyes meet mine, her green hair falling onto her face. My hand swipes the hair away from her eyes, my palm moving to rest on her flushed cheek. Our eyes lock, my pulse quickens as I stare at her. My cock making me fully aware I’m heading into dangerous territory, and if I don’t step back, things are going to happen. So, I drop my hand from her face and take a step back.
That’s when she f
inally takes a breath.
“Your face is all bruised from the attack because you don’t know how to defend yourself, right?”
“Right?” She glares at me like I’m losing my damn mind.
“So, I’m gonna teach you how to punch.”
Her eyes twinkle and widen, not from shock or fear but excitement. “Really? No one’s ever… wow.”
Holding her shoulders, I spin her toward the boxing bag. “Let me get some gloves.”
She bounces up on her toes in enthusiasm, her hands already coming up in a defensive pose ready to take me on. Grabbing the gloves, I slide them over her hands and do up the Velcro tightly. “Okay, first thing I’m gonna teach you is how to punch. Always keep your thumb over the fingers and under the knuckles… like this.” I show her the correct technique. “If you leave it on top of your fingers, when you hit someone or something, your thumb’s gonna break.”
“Got it!”
“Hit with the flat part of your fingers and your knuckles, and make sure your wrist is straight, don’t bend it up or down because you might strain or break it.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Push through with the momentum of your body, not from the elbow—”
“This is a lot to take in.”
I move in behind her, placing one hand on her hip, the other hand following the line of her punching arm. “I’ll move with you slowly, so you feel the rhythm.”
My front presses into her back, and it takes everything in me to keep my damn cock under control. Slowly, I pull her arm back while resting my chin on her shoulder. “Now, as you push forward, you want your fist to roll with the movement, like this.” I direct, slowly edging her forward, moving her hand, demonstrating how to punch, and she lightly hits the bag.
Billie lets out the breath she was holding, and I slide my hand down, so both of mine are sitting on her waist. “Okay, try on your own now, a little faster and with more force.”
Billie bites down on her lip, pulls back, and slams her right fist into the bag with the correct movement as shown. She lets out a small laugh, and I take a step back from her. “Now do the same with your left hand, just use opposite movements.”
She puts her guard up, then follows through, hitting the bag harder, so it sways a little with the punch. “This is kinda fun!”
Moving around to the back of the bag, I take hold, my eyes meeting hers. “You thought that was fun. Now I want you to think of something or someone who has held you back. Maybe even of the attacker who assaulted you. I want you to hit the bag as hard as you can while thinking about that person.” She hesitates, gnawing on her bottom lip. So I give her some incentive by saying, “He’s coming for you!”
Her eyes become cold, hard, and flinty, then she slams her right fist into the bag. Her eyes light up like somehow that was freeing, and I know she’s not done, she merely needs some help.
“Don’t let him get you, Billie!”
She slams her left hand into the bag, then her right again. Her hits are becoming stronger, and the determination in her eyes now more focused.
“He’s going to strike, Billie. Move!”
She slams her fist into the bag so hard, I have to hold on tight. It shocks me a little when a red haze takes over her face. She’s definitely thinking of someone while she begins to pummel the bag with hit after ferocious hit. I struggle to keep the bag in place as she pants frantically for breath. Her eyes well up with tears and sweat beads on her temple. She’s losing control, now lost in her inner turmoil.
Billie pounds onto the bag with such force, she’s using every ounce of strength she has. I should stop her, but this is obviously cathartic, so I leave her to slam her fist after fist into the bag. Sweat drips down her temple, her eyes welling to the edges of her lids. Her brows scrunch, and her eyes show pure venom for whoever she’s thinking about.
Her punches become less controlled, more haphazard, and now lethargic as she slows, losing her energy. She throws another punch with everything she has left. “I hate you!” she screams, slamming her fist into the bag again before collapsing onto the ground, tears streaming from her eyes.
Dropping to my knees, I pull her onto my lap and hold on while she softly cries. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to her at the same time she grips my cut.
She sniffles, wiping away her tears. “No, I’m sorry. Look at me… I’m a mess.”
“You’re beautiful. Don’t worry about the tears.” She sits up on her own. “You said, ‘I hate you.’ Who was that directed to?”
Her eyes fall instantly to the ground. “The person who made me end up here… in this situation… in this state I’m in. I feel like I’m losing myself.”
My chest squeezes, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. My hands reach out to undo her gloves, and then I pull them off. “C’mon… I think I know how to make you feel more relaxed.”
Her glistening eyes meet mine, and she sighs. “Why are you so nice to me?”
“Because you give damn good hugs,” I tease.
She rolls her eyes as I stand and pull her with me. “You’re so full of shit.”
“Yeah, but you’ll soon learn that it’s a quality people love about me.”
She wraps her arm with mine, and we make our way back inside the clubhouse.
I’m about to make Billie feel better. Somehow, I just have to find a way to control my cock, which right now seems to have a mind of his own.
Down boy, we have a job to do.
PHANTOM
Walking upstairs, I lead Billie to her room. She’s a little less on edge—it’s funny how punching out your frustrations really gets that pent-up energy out. Now I want to help her unwind. Make her feel completely relaxed.
After we walk into her room, I close the door behind us, and she makes her way over to the bed while pulling off her sweater. “Thank you. I had no clue how much I needed a release like that.” She kicks off her boots, and I let out a small breath.
“Billie, take off your top.”
Her head snaps to me like I’ve just said the craziest thing in the world, and her mouth pops open. “Ah… I don’t understand—”
“I’ll turn around, but I need you to take off your shirt and lay face down on the bed.”
Her eyes burn with intensity, a hint of desire seeping through. “Okay…” Surprisingly, she doesn’t question me further and moves to pull her shirt up and over her head. I avert my eyes, turn around, and hear the shirt land on the floor near my feet. The mattress springs squeak and shift, letting me know she’s lying on the bed.
“You can look now,” she directs me.
I turn to see her face down with her jeans and bra still on. Her back is proudly on display—damn, that’s so fucking tempting—while I try to control myself. But sex isn’t what this is about right now.
I just need to remind my cock of that fact.
She follows my every movement as I walk over, my eyes shifting to the bruising covering her arm. My lip instantly curls, seeing the pain some fucker has inflicted on her. I want to make it my mission to find them and cause them ten times the pain she is feeling, but I can’t think of that right now because now is the time to make Billie relax and feel good.
I step to her side, standing beside the bed. “Do you trust me?”
There’s a hesitation when her eyes meet mine. “Yes…” Her voice comes out a breathy whisper.
“Good.” Slowly, I crawl onto the bed and straddle over her ass on my knees, virtually sitting on top of her. My hands slide up her back as my fingers firmly dig into her skin. “This okay?” I ask.
Billie’s eyes close, and she lets out some kind of muffled moan. “Mm-hmm.”
Her skin is so fucking silky as my fingers glide over her softness. All I want is for her to relax, though this is doing anything but make me loosen up. I’m wound up tighter than a two-dollar watch. My fingers slide in, up, and under her bra clip. She doesn’t react, so I quickly unhook the clips, then slowly slide it open, leaving her entire back ba
re. Licking my lips, my fingers work their way into her muscles, making sure to edge my way up to her neck. “Damn, your muscles are tight in your neck, you’re holding a lot of tension up here.”
She exhales. “Too much stress.”
“We’re working on that. In the meantime, I’ll try and help relieve the stress from your body.”
Her breathing quickens, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip. “For a biker, you’re really good with your hands.”
“What on earth makes you think bikers aren’t good with our hands?”
She’s quiet for a second, then replies, “I guess I just had preconceived notions bikers were rough, hard, the violent type… you know?”
My hands slide down to her sides massaging around her shoulder blades. “We’re all of those things, but we also know how to be caring, considerate, and… very… very good with our hands.”
She giggles, her eyes still closed.
I slide my hands up to the nape of her neck, pressing where I know the erogenous zone is located, and she lets out the most sinful of moans. My cock instantly jerks to attention in my jeans while her hands grip on the bedsheets. In an effort to keep myself in check, I clench my eyes shut. I keep my movements going as she begins to breathe heavier, and I try not to let her know my cock is growing against her ass.
“Damn, Phantom, where did you learn to massage like this?” she almost whispers.
“God-given talent.”
She laughs, the sound almost heavenly as her entire body succumbs to my movements. She is one hundred percent relaxed as I slide my hands all over her back. The aim in this was her pleasure, to make her feel good, and I never intended for this to make me feel good in the process. I didn’t think for a single second it would have such an intense reaction on my body as it is.
But fuck, I want her.
And that could be dangerous.
“Are you feeling relaxed? Unwinding from all that pent-up emotion from boxing?”
She nods her head against the pillow. “I don’t even remember what I was so angry about anymore, you have me so brain dead right now.”
