She takes the mouse from him and replays that portion of the scene. I guess it’s cute in a hardcore, pornographic way. She and the guy share a genuine laugh over the incident. Even the guy pounding her from behind stops to kiss Anya’s shoulder and make sure she’s okay.
I mean, I could’ve gone my whole entire life without seeing these people in their most intimate moments with each other, but here I am.
“See. Look.” She points to a few more spikes and stops to watch those sections. “The eye-contact is always huge with my audience. Women want to see more of that romantic, emotional connection. No woman finds twelve minutes of jackhammering penetration sexy in real life or porn.”
I snort-laugh. She’s not exactly wrong there. It’s still weird as hell that I’m watching a clip of her screwing two other guys while she’s sitting right in front of me, talking about the aesthetics of it all like it’s no big deal.
I flick my gaze to Rooster. His expression remains neutral.
“Okay, I think I got it,” Anya says finally. “I can access this from my computer too, right?”
“Yup. I sent you all the instructions.” His gaze slips toward me for a second. “If you have questions, just shoot me an email and I’ll help you out. We can schedule a chat if you need me to walk you through it again.”
The jealous girlfriend in me is working real hard to keep her mouth shut.
It’s only business. It’s for the club. He’s going to be on the road with me for flock’s sake. Settle down.
“I should be okay,” Anya says. “But thank you.” She jumps out of her chair and spins around, hugging me quickly. “Thank you so much, Shelby. I’ll see you guys out there.” She breezes out the door.
“Sorry about that,” Rooster says as soon as we’re alone.
“It was…surreal. Those images might be permanently seared into my…I need brain bleach or something.”
He stares at me for a few seconds. ”You’ve never…?”
“What?”
“Watched stuff? Like that?” he gestures toward the screen.
“That? On my own?” I ask, trying to dial down the shock in my tone. “Lordy, no. I mean, I had a boyfriend once who kept trying to talk me into a threesome. He’d show me stuff with two girls and…it wasn’t my thing. It just made me really uncomfortable thinking of him jacking off to those videos while comparing me to those girls.”
There goes his jaw ticking again.
I cock my head. “You really hate it when I mention an ex, huh?”
He nods once. “I can’t help it.”
“It was just for context.”
“I know.” He sighs and glances at the screen. “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been immersed in this crap for so long, I’m immune to it.”
“I’m not a choirgirl or anything but yeah, it was a little shocking.” I stand and close the short distance between us, brushing my knee against his leg. “You’re not immune to me, are you?”
His gaze travels down my body so slow, heat follows the trail. He grabs my hips and pulls me closer. “Definitely not.”
“Good.” I perch on the edge of the desk. “So, the emotional connection of it all didn’t get to you?” I say lightly.
He sighs. “I understand what she was getting at. But that’s not a true emotional anything and you and I both know it.”
“I get what she was saying too. And she’s right. If I wanted to watch people screwin’, that’s the part I’d be more interested in too, I guess. She’s a smart cookie. Got good instincts for the business she’s in.” I pause, considering if I should say this next part. “Speaking of, Anya mentioned how you talked to her about alternate careers.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I probably overstepped there. I don’t know—”
I touch his arm to draw his attention to me. “No, I think that was sweet of you.”
“Sweet, huh?”
I stare at the ceiling for a second, trying to figure out the best words to convey my feelings. “You treat me like gold. No question. But I’ve always thought it’s the way a man treats the other women in his life—even the ones he doesn’t want to bang—that reveal his true character. And you tellin’ her something like that, even though your club probably wouldn’t appreciate it…well, not many men would probably bother.”
“I didn’t say it because I want to bang her,” he confirms.
“That was kinda my whole point.” I lift one shoulder. “I can’t lie and say I’m super excited you watch beautiful, naked women gettin’ plowed on a regular basis…”
“Honestly, I’ve told you this before, I upload the files and look at the back end numbers more than anything.”
I snicker at back end and Rooster shakes his head.
“Anyway.” He holds my gaze for a few seconds before continuing. “Anya wants control over the uploading and all of that stuff. I’ll be more like tech support.”
I run my fingers through his hair and he rolls the chair closer to me, resting his hands on my thighs.
“Watching that really did nothing for you?” I ask, tilting my head toward the computer.
“That? No.”
“What does?”
He squeezes my hips. “Right now? I can’t stop thinking about peeling these jeans off, spreading you out on this desk and licking your pussy until my beard’s dripping—”
A knock at the door stops Rooster’s hypnotizing words. Probably a good thing since I was about five seconds away from letting him do exactly what he described. Which would be kinda rude to do on another man’s desk.
Whoever it is, doesn’t wait for an invitation. The door swings open and I turn my head. Ice steps in, amusement flickering over his intense face. “Sorry, thought you were done when I saw Anya out there.”
“We are.” Rooster stands smoothly, completely confident, while I’m off-balance from almost getting caught with my jeans around my ankles.
Shoot. Ice. Rooster said this was the president’s office.
I scoot my butt off his desk so fast my boots hit the floor with a hard clackety-thump.
“Shelby, hon, you mind giving us a few minutes?” While Ice phrases it as a question, the way he’s standing by the door doesn’t give me the impression no is an acceptable answer.
“Sure. Thank you for letting me borrow your office.”
“No problem, sweetheart.” For a guy named Ice, his tone’s awfully warm and affectionate. “The girls are all out in the main room.”
I glance at Rooster and he nods.
Off I go.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Shelby
I follow the music back to the main room. Someone’s cranked it way up. The lights have been dimmed but Ice was right, the girls are where I left them. Anya’s engaged in animated conversation with Heidi. Trinity’s relocated to her husband’s lap and seems quite content to stay there.
As soon as she spots me, Anya pops up and waves me over. The chair I’d been occupying earlier is taken. One stern look from Anya and the girl skedaddles like her butt’s on fire.
“Where’s Rooster?” Anya asks, glancing over my shoulder.
“I guess Ice needed to talk to him.”
She grabs my arm, staring intently at me. “Thanks for being so cool.”
I assume she’s talking about what happened back there in the office. “Yeah, sure.”
The music changes to something a little more in my neighborhood and I can’t help tapping my feet.
“I love this song!” Anya screams and claps her hands together. “Do you two-step, Shelby?”
Now we’re talking. “Is a frog’s ass water-tight?”
She frowns and blinks at me.
“Yes.” I jump up and she grabs my hand, dragging me out to the middle of the room where a few couples are dancing to their own beat that has nothing to do with the Texan twang spilling out of the speakers.
Shrill whistles rise above the music as Anya and I break into a simple Texas two-step. I think the noise is dir
ected at us but I’m having too much fun following Anya’s shuffle-steps, twirling, and just being silly in time to the music to care. At the line about the rooster having twenty gals, guys shout and more whistles split the air.
While I’m spinning I catch Rooster and Ice standing near the meeting room watching us.
Anya laughs and shakes her head. “The only gal our Rooster has his eye on is you,” she shouts in my ear, referencing the lyrics.
“Ice seems to be watching you too.”
Her steps falter as they stare each other down for a few seconds. She shakes it off and hooks her arm around my waist, spinning us away.
“Nah, he was best friends with my daddy. Thinks he’s lookin’ out for me now. That’s all.”
While I digest that bit of information, we continue to spin and twist together as if we’ve done this dance dozens of times.
“You’re good!” I yell over the music.
She answers by wiggling her eyebrows and shaking her hips.
As the music fades someone throws on another, slower country song. Remy prowls over, panther-slow, and leans in to whisper something in Anya’s ear. She nods and throws a quick glance over her shoulder before dancing away with him.
Actually, dancing isn’t what I’d call their movements.
I’m not alone for long. Heidi taps my shoulder and holds out her hands. “Teach me a little?”
Bless her sweet soul, now I don’t look like a dipstick out here all by myself.
I show her a few steps and she picks up the moves quickly. By the next song we’re turning, spinning and twirling like crazy. Not the smoothest performance but we’re having fun.
ROOSTER
By the time Ice and I return to the party, the lights have dimmed another few notches. From the look of things, brothers have already decided to start working on earning their pussy patches.
Fuck me. I should warn Shelby. After her reaction to Anya’s scene, the whole pussy patch challenge might be one degenerate event too many for her to handle.
“Glad they’re gettin’ along,” Ice shouts to me over the upbeat, fiddle-laced music.
I follow his line of sight to Shelby and Anya tearing up the dance floor. Damn, even after Anya made her so uncomfortable, Shelby’s not snubbing her. She has more class and kindness than most women I’ve known. I haven’t stopped thinking about what she said before Ice interrupted us either.
“You gonna go cut in?” I ask.
He watches the girls and seems to be considering it. The music changes and Remy, of all people, slides up to Anya and whisks her away. Ice throws them a glare that could melt a glacier. After a few seconds of watching them all but fuck standing up, he storms off.
Jigsaw wanders over with his eyebrows raised and cheeks puffed out. “Holy fuck.” He whistles and shakes his head.
I’m not as amused as he seems to be. “Our support club shouldn’t piss off the president of the charters we visit,” I say as we watch Remy and Anya grinding away in the middle of the party room.
“How’s Remy supposed to know?” Jigsaw shrugs. “She’s not patched.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’s in another club’s house. He needs to learn better manners.”
Jigsaw steps back and slaps my chest. “Do you think Shelby re-virginized you or something?” He squeezes his eyes shut and taps the side of his head. “I think…no I’m positive I remember you doing something similar when you were a prospect.”
I groan and smack his hand off my chest. “That was different.”
“It was worse.”
Even if I don’t want to admit it, he’s right. “Thank fuck Hopper retired. Z wants me to stop by Washington eventually. Hopper would probably shoot me on sight.”
Jiggy—asshole that he is—doubles over laughing. “You dodged a bullet.”
“Several of them,” I grumble.
“No, seriously. I hear his daughter has like four kids now.”
“Yeah? Hopper shoot their daddy?”
“Probably.” He clasps his hands under his chin. “Please, let me come with you when you show your face in Washington.”
“I’m really not that worried about it.” I honestly try not to dwell on that time in my life unless Jigsaw brings it up. Maybe Shelby has scrambled my brain. Sometimes it feels like nothing else existed before we met. Her presence in my life creates a glow that chases all the shadows of my past into the holes where they belong.
Murphy ambles over with a wide-eyed face and tilts his head toward Anya and Remy. “Is this going to be a problem?”
“Probably. Why don’t you go collect your boy?” I suggest.
“He’s not my boy,” Murphy growls.
“Forget Anya.” Jiggy slaps both of us on the shoulder and lifts his chin in Shelby and Heidi’s direction. “Everyone’s staring at your ol’ ladies anyway.”
Murphy rams an elbow in Jiggy’s side. “Quit being a creep. They’re having fun.”
Creep or not, Jiggy’s not wrong. The girls are playfully performing an innocent country-type dance together. Or rather, Shelby’s patiently showing Heidi some steps. There’s more giggling and twirling going on than dancing. A damn welcome sight after the last few days. Still, they’re drawing a lot of attention. Heidi’s patched, so no worries there. Everyone’s seen me with Shelby and knows who she is, so I’m not too stressed about the attention they’re receiving. Yet.
I bump Murphy with my shoulder. “Thanks for bringing Heidi with you. I think Shelby’s really liked having the girls here.”
He cocks his head, studying me for a minute, like maybe I’m trying to bust his nuts instead of sincerely thanking him. “Anytime, brother.”
My gaze lands on one of the local brothers who’s now eying Shelby too close for my comfort. While keeping his gaze on Shelby, he leans in toward another brother and says something they both share a laugh over. The easy smile slides off my face. Imagining whatever filthy comments they’re trading nudges me forward. As I step into the crowd, Jigsaw’s rumbling laughter follows me.
Shelby’s moving fast. Her body brushes mine and I catch her mid-twirl, wrapping my arm around her waist and yanking her closer.
I lean down, inhaling her soft, powdery scent and kiss her bared shoulder. “You’re a beautiful blur out here.”
She tips her head back, staring up at me. Wide eyes, pink cheeks, sweat misting her skin, and a happy glow curving her lips. “Hey, there.”
In front of us, Murphy has Heidi in a similar hold. She laughs and teases him about teaching him to dance.
Shelby turns, looping her arms around my neck and swaying her hips from side to side. “I’ve lost two dancing partners. Now, you have to dance with me.”
I rest my hands on her hips. “I’m not much of a dancer.”
“I happen to know you have excellent rhythm.”
“That’s different.” I lean down and press my forehead to hers.
“How was your meetin’? You’re not in trouble with Ice, are ya?”
“Not at all.” The opposite, actually. Ice wanted to cut me in for a percentage of Anya’s profits from the site. After all he’s done—loaning me vehicles, putting Jackson on Shelby’s case right away, personally helping me search for her, offering to monitor Suggs as he moves through the justice system—I told him I couldn’t accept. He left me with the impression he might go to Z and offer to kick that percentage up to my charter, which is fine. I got no control over whatever arrangement the two presidents decide.
Murphy—that big, ginger fucker—disappears with Heidi, leaving the Remy situation to implode. I scan the room for Dex, who might be able to talk some sense into Remy, or Wrath, who might be able to beat it into the kid. Can’t find either of them.
I lead Shelby over to a quieter corner of the room, claim a chair and pull her into my lap.
“Were you okay earlier? Out here with them, I mean.” I lift my chin toward Remy who’s still slow-grinding with Anya in front of everyone. Griff’s too absorbed in whatever he’s doing
on his phone to pay attention to the girls who keep approaching him or notice the ass-kicking his buddy’s about to receive.
“Oh yes.” Her lips pull up. “Trinity’s one badass bitch. She doesn’t take shit from anyone.”
My blood simmers. “Who hassled her?” Not that Trin can’t handle herself, but I don’t want anyone harassing my brothers’ women.
“No one.” Shelby waves her hand in the air between us. “Remy had some questions and she told him the appropriate place to find that information.”
I sense she’s not giving me the whole story but if it’s important, I’m sure Trinity will relay it to Wrath and he’ll handle it.
“You’re okay, though?”
“I’m fine. Remy asked about their patches.” She ducks her head. “Why I don’t have one.”
No wonder Trinity took exception. That’s not a question a biker should ask. And definitely not something he should talk about to my ol’ lady. Little fucker.
I wasn’t ready to talk about this with her. Buy an RV to tour the country? Sure. Take a chance she’ll balk at wearing something that proclaims her my property? Not so much.
“Does it bother you?” I purposely leave the question vague, waiting to see how she interprets it.
“No,” she answers quickly. “You told me that for your club it was equivalent to an engagement ring.” She squeezes my arm. “I’m not expecting…that’s a big step.” She tilts her head toward the front door. “You just bought me a freakin’ house.”
“It’s hardly a house.”
“You know what I mean.” She drops her gaze to her lap. “I love you. I know you’re committed. That we’re committed. I don’t need a ring or some leather to tell me how you feel about me.”
I pull her closer and kiss the top of her head.
Truthfully, if I want my brothers to take a vote, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to patch her. The few days here and there she’s spent around my club won’t be enough for them to decide if they trust her or not. The fact that she’s a public person who has a lot of eyes on her and will continue to do so in the future won’t exactly count in her favor for a club that prefers to stay under the radar. Lots of old ladies get real wrapped up in whether or not they get a patch.
Lyrics on the Wind (Lost Kings MC Book 17) Page 24
