by Reana Malori
“Sup Reed,” the text from his buddy Tommy read, “Come hit the spot. Time to have fun.”
Maybe going to the Club would get his mind off a woman he had no business thinking about. She may be a member of an MC, but she wasn’t his type. He knew this. Felt it in his bones. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her last night. It sure as shit didn’t prevent his dick from getting hard as he watched her lick a drop of liquid from her lips as they sat in that bar. And no matter what he may want to believe or tell himself, it didn’t stop him from fucking her over and over again last night, imprinting himself on her psyche. He knew it was wrong, but he wanted her to never forget the way he made her feel. Never forget that when he was inside of her, she lost her damn mind and started speaking in tongues.
No other man would be able to satisfy. He made damn sure about that.
See, there he went with that bullshit again. The woman wasn’t his, yet he was sitting here with a hard dick thinking about how he needed to be balls deep inside of her again.
Running his hand down his face, he sighed loudly as he leaned forward in the seat. This was exactly what he needed. Some good old-fashioned Club pussy. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he responded.
“I’ll be there in an hour. See you when you get there.”
THIS WAS NOT what he needed. Fuck this shit. Coming here tonight was a mistake and now he just wanted to leave. Reed’s jaw clenched as another sweetbutt ground on him, trying to raise his interest. Literally. None of her efforts worked on him. Nor did anything the other two girls did. It was as if his shit didn’t work anymore. What the fuck!
“Fuck, Reed. What’s up with you tonight? All this pussy being thrown in your face and you’re just passing it up.” Tommy looked over at him with a smirk as a blonde twerked her ass on top of his lap. Shaking his head, he looked at the girl and almost grimaced. She was usually his type. Blonde. Petite. Skinny. Small tits. Small, tight ass. His mind was all fucked up as to why he wasn’t walking with her back to the rooms right now. Even the one on his lap was his usual type, even though her hair was a deep, fiery red and her skin reminded him of delicate porcelain.
Closing his eyes, he tried to force himself to respond to the women throwing themselves at him and his buddy. No matter how much he wanted to, his dick wasn’t responding. Then something changed. A vision of Geneva entered his head. Brown skin glistening with sweat as they took pleasure in each other’s body. Her tight channel fit him like a glove and her moans were music to his ears. No matter how hard he went, she took everything he had to give, and then some. Scratches covered his back from her sharp nails against his skin as he stroked deep into her body. Fuck, he wanted to see her again.
“That’s it, baby. I knew you just needed the right motivation. Ready to go into the back with me?”
A whispered voice broke through his memories and he opened his eyes. Instead of Geneva’s beautiful face in front of him, it was the sweetbutt who’d been enticing him all night. Looking down, he realized his cock had thickened underneath his pants as he remembered what he and Geneva had done.
This was wrong. All wrong. Grabbing the girl by the hips, he lifted her off him. “Not tonight, uh…”
“Tiffany,” she said with a pout.
“Yeah, Tiffany. Thanks for the offer babe, but I’m not in the mood.” He smiled to soften the blow, but knew the sting of his rejection still hit its mark.
“It looks like another part of your body might disagree with you,” she said with a smirk, looking down at his crotch area.
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t always know what’s good for him. Go on, honey, find you someone who can appreciate your special talents.” She knew better than to raise a ruckus. Club girls, or sweetbutts, knew their place in the Club hierarchy. And it sure as shit wasn’t to question a Club member. Giving her a light swat on her ass as she pasted a fake smile on her face and turned away, he shook his head. Taking a swig of his whiskey, he leaned his head back and wondered what the fuck he was going to do now.
“What the fuck, man. You turning down Tiffany? Now I know something’s wrong,” Tommy called out next to him.
He’d almost forgotten his friend was there. Glancing over at him, he was silent for a second as he thought about how to answer. “Nah man, I just wasn’t in the mood for her tonight. Club leftovers just aren’t on the menu tonight.”
His friend gave him a long look as he stood up, the blonde chick holding his hand tightly as if he were going to disappear. “Then what is?”
Now that, was the million-dollar question. Downing his drink in one final gulp, he stood from the table. Going in for a manly half-hug, he clapped his buddy on the back and began making his way outside to his bike. “I’m about to go find out. See ya.”
Reed knew it was a long shot, but going back to that bar was his only choice. It was the only place he knew that she might be. Exiting the Club, he nodded to a few of the men hanging around. Most of them had women hanging on them in some form or fashion, a few old ladies, but most were Club girls. As he looked at the group around him, he wondered how Geneva would fit in. If she would fit in at all. The women hanging around all had one thing in common that Geneva didn’t. While he’d never had a problem with a woman’s skin color when he was between her legs, if he wanted anything more with Geneva, he needed to think long and hard.
He’d been a nomad so long, he hadn’t paid much attention to all the bullshit politics that happened with the Club. Although he knew that their by-laws didn’t prohibit members of other races, specifically those who were black, he wasn’t too sure about the undercurrents of the Club. Since he’d been initiated, he’d been on the road too much to even pay attention. When he was a prospect, it had never come up. Then again, he’d been a newbie and no Club was going to spill its hidden racism to someone who wasn’t a full-fledged member.
As he pulled up his kickstand and pulled out of the parking lot, he had to laugh at the thoughts running through his head. One night with this woman and he was ready to settle and give up his Nomad status. Yeah, he definitely had to get her out of his system.
Arriving at the bar thirty minutes later, he now sat in a corner booth nursing his second glass of whiskey. When he’d walked in and realized she wasn’t around, the feeling in the pit of his stomach pissed him off. Storming over to the bar, he got the bartender’s attention.
“Hey, can I grab a booth?”
Charlie, as Geneva had called him the other day, nodded his head in the direction of an empty booth. “Have at it. Whatcha drinking tonight?”
“Whiskey. The best you got. Straight.” At the guy’s nod, he strolled over to the booth and climbed in. Pissed. Stewing. Wishing he’d forced the issue and gotten her number last night. After a few short minutes, a cute redheaded waitress brought his drink over and sat it down in front of him.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” Looking into her eyes, he knew she was offering more than just drinks. Part of him wanted to accept the offer just to prove that he could. The other part of him knew he’d never be able to get it up for her. Until he got Geneva out of his system, no other woman would do.
“No, I’m good.” Pulling out his wallet, he placed a few bills on the table. “Keep them coming until I say stop or until the money runs out.” Slumping back against the fake leather of the booth, he turned his gaze away from her and stared at the door. Almost willing Geneva to walk through the door.
As time passed and the whiskey kicked in, he began to relax. Which brought on other memories he’d prefer to forget. Four long years had passed since he’d gotten out of the Army and even now, when he stayed still for longer than he should, the visuals of his buddies dying in his arms filled his mind. His best friend, the guy he’d met the first day of basic training, had died in his arms after the truck they were riding in ran over an improvised explosive device. Nick had been sitting in the front seat, while he’d been in the back. If it hadn’t been for a lucky hand of rock-paper-scissors, it would have been hi
m sitting in front that fateful day.
His nostrils filled with the smells of sand and blood mixed together. The sound of his friend gurgling through the blood in his mouth, begging Reed to take him home, to take him back to Georgia to see his wife, Jenny, and their two-year-old little boy. The sight of the tears flowing from his best friend’s eyes as he came to the realization that he was about to die in some desert three-thousand miles away from home without telling his wife he loved her. That his son would grow up without a father.
The only thing Reed could do was hold his friend in his arms and tell him it would be okay. But it wouldn’t. It would never be okay. His friend wasn’t coming home and every day when he looked in the mirror, he wondered why he wasn’t the one who died that day. Shit wasn’t right, man. One year later, he’d hung up his uniform and never looked back. His mind had been set on serving for the full twenty, but something like that changes a man. Makes him question what the fuck is it all for. He stayed in touch with Jenny and little Nicholas as much as he could. Whenever he was near Georgia, he made a point to always pass through Augusta so that he could check up on them. His mother even made a point to reach out to her and check-in. Even if Nick was gone, the least Reed could do was make sure his widow and son were okay.
“Reed, what are you doing here?”
Turning his head at the sound of her voice, Geneva stood at his table. Her pink and black helmet was in her hands and her pink and black cut was still on her shoulders. Wearing a hot pink shirt, a pair of skin-tight black pants, and a pair of black boots, she looked like a fucking mirage. Even her hair was different tonight. She’d pulled it back into two braids that were tight to her skull, the ends hanging low on her back.
No, she wasn’t his usual type at all, but he was pretty damn certain his type had been irrevocably changed.
“Waiting for you,” he smirked.
Cutting her eyes at him, she smirked and then looked over her shoulder to a group of women coming inside. “Bullshit. You didn’t even know I’d be here tonight.”
“Yeah, but I’d hoped. Sit down,” he said, motioning to the other side of the table.
“Can’t.” Turning again, she lifted one finger to a group of women dressed similarly to her. Pink and black was an interesting combination, but it fit her. “So, you look different than you did last night.”
Looking down at himself, it dawned on him why she was so standoffish. Tonight, he was all OS, Odin’s Soldier. His black boots, well-worn blue jeans, gray long-sleeve Henley, and leather cut bearing the symbol of his Club. No, this was not the man she’d met last night. This was the real him, in the flesh, and she didn’t seem to like what she was seeing.
“I do. Is there an issue?” At the lift of her eyebrows when she looked into his eyes, she knew he was asking a different question.
“I don’t know.”
Hell, at least she was honest. “There wasn’t an issue last night.”
“You were a different person yesterday. Or, rather you looked like a different person.” Now she looked nervous and that just pissed him off even more.
“I didn’t realize the clothes made the man. I take it the version of me you met yesterday was acceptable, but the version in front of you today isn’t?”
Looking away for a second, she sighed. He saw her take a deep breath and couldn’t force his eyes away from the swell of her chest. “It’s just different. I didn’t know you had an MC family. You never mentioned it.”
“You were wearing your cut and never mentioned your MC family either.”
“But at least you saw mine. I had no idea. Then again, maybe I should have. Some of the things you said, and phrases you used when I first met you, make sense to me now.”
Their MC’s weren’t in conflict. Who gives a shit if he was part of an MC family or not. When they were naked in bed, their cuts wouldn’t matter. “Geneva, come on baby, it doesn’t matter.”
“Why’d your momma name you Reed?”
Shocked by the unexpected question, he pulled back from her. “Why do you want to know? You trying to get to know me better, Geneva.”
Rolling her eyes, she focused her gaze on him again. “Are you going to answer the question? Considering you’re trying to get me alone again tonight and do only God knows what to my body, asking a personal question shouldn’t be off-limits.”
“Oh, sweetness, I’m doing more than trying. You’ll be underneath me tonight, my dick soaked in your juices all night. I can guarantee you that.”
“Then answer my question. Why the name Reed?”
“That’s my last name. My first name’s Jamison, but no one calls me that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like people calling me by my first name. They get too comfortable and start bitching it up. Start calling me Jamie and shit. Nah, I prefer Reed. It’s what I was called in the Army and it’s what I prefer.”
“Can I call you Jamison?”
“When we’re fucking, you can call me whatever you want.”
“Are you always so fucking rude? Is that all you think about?”
Hell yeah, it was all he thought about. Especially after last night with this she-devil. He liked seeing her all riled up. Her eyes flashed, and her skin took in a burgundy hue. Damn, she was fucking gorgeous. He was tired of this cat-and-mouse game. “Are you going to sit down with me, Geneva?” They were both consenting adults and they both wanted each other. Why was she fighting this so hard?
“I can’t. I’m having dinner with my sisters.” Lifting her hand, she motioned towards the group of women openly staring at the two of them talking.
“Sisters?” Looking at the women, he didn’t see the resemblance. Although, stranger things had surprised, so he just shrugged.
“Friends, really, but close enough to be like sisters.”
“Well, then run along over to your friends.” Coming here tonight had been a mistake. Either she was a ballbuster and wanted to toy with him or he’d gotten it all fucked up in his head and put a spin on last night that didn’t really exist.
“Jamison…I mean, Reed—" she began, but one of the women had broken from the group and walked up to her side.
“G, you coming?” she asked, eyeing him up and down. Curiosity was etched all over her face as she took in his tall frame. Smirking at her friend, he saw the blush cover her cheeks. Geneva was about to be grilled as soon as they sat down.
“Yeah, I’m coming, Penny,” she said to her friend. Looking back at him, she gave him a half-smile, “I guess I’ll see you around.”
Disappointment churned in his gut at her dismissive tone. Yeah, this is why he didn’t do this whole ‘see a woman more than once’ thing. It was all bullshit. He was fucking good enough for her last night when he looked like every other schmuck walking around this yuppie ass city. She fucked his brains out then and enjoyed every second of it. Screaming his name and begging him for more all night. The only thing that changed between now and then were the clothes on his back. Fuck this.
“Yeah, see ya,” he said, lifting the glass to his mouth and swallowing down the last of the liquor in the glass. Just as he set it back down, the waitress stopped by with a refill.
“’Scuse me,” she said, bumping her way past Geneva to get to the table. “Here you go, Reed. Change your mind yet about needing anything else?”
Reed’s gaze swung between Geneva, who was resisting her friend’s efforts to pull her away from his table and the waitress willing to share all her assets with him. Although it pained him, he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much he wanted a repeat of last night. The sex had been amazing, but more than that, he’d wanted to get to know the woman. Based on the way her friend was looking down her nose at him as if he was a homeless man asking for change on the city street, and Geneva’s inability to say anything at all, it appeared last night was the only night he was going to get.
“Maybe I’ll want something soon, sweetheart. I’m still thinking about it,” he returne
d back to the woman. Glancing over at Geneva, he thought he saw a glimpse of hurt before she schooled her features. Lifting his glass to her in a mock toast, he smiled. Check.
Chapter Five
“So, what’s up with you and that fine ass white boy?” her friend Penny asked once their food was delivered.
“Oh, he ain’t no boy. I can tell that from all the way over here,” her other friend Denise said with a laugh, looking over at Reed.
She knew the questions were going to come, but she could also admit that she didn’t want her girl’s looking at him as if he were a piece of meat. Looking over her shoulder, she gritted her teeth when she noticed the waitress standing by his table. Again. She was of a mind to yell at her to go do her damn job and quit trying to fuck the customers. But, that would be rude, and she didn’t do that kind of thing. Didn’t change the fact that she wanted to.
“I met him here last night when I stopped by for a drink. It’s nothing.”
Penny cut her eyes at her and smacked her lips, “That didn’t look like nothing to me. That man wanted your ass something fierce. But I can’t see you getting with no dirty ass white dude. I mean look at him. You can see he’s with an MC. He’s probably a one-percenter and you need to stay away from those guys.”
Glancing at Reed again, he turned his head to look in her direction at the same time. Their eyes held for a few moments across the crowded room. She diverted her gaze first, turning back to her friends. All of whom were giving her knowing looks. “He’s not like that.”
“How do you know?” Angela asked. “I mean he doesn’t look like he’s a road warrior, but that doesn’t mean anything nowadays. You know, he keeps looking over here at you. Y’all met last night?”
“Yes,” she said, her breath catching. Had he really been looking over here when her head was turned? Before she left him this morning, she’d wanted to get his number, but didn’t want to be that woman. You know the kind. After one good…no, amazing night of mind-blowing sex, the woman that would never go away, even if the man wanted her gone. Walking out of that room without a way to contact him or knowing if she would ever see him again had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done.
