by Bijou Hunter
“Fucking between us will probably never happen,” I say and try for a casual tone. “Why would you even want to?”
His gaze finds mine. “I like the thought of feeling inside you, girl. I just don’t know if the high-maintenance aftermath is worth it.”
“I’m not high maintenance,” I balk, even while wondering if I should double-check with Taylor on that. “I’m very laidback. If anyone’s high maintenance, it’s you with that beard and hair. Talk about prima donna shit. I feel sorry for the woman who calls you her man.”
“No one to feel sorry for. I never want a woman calling me her man.”
“Are you too wild to be tamed, Goliath?”
“Nomp. Not wild at all. I’m a tame tiger, but one that ain’t interested in being owned. I’ve done the relationship thing twice. It ain’t worth the hassle.”
“Huh.”
“Yomp.”
“What, yomp? And why yomp and not yeah? Are you precious? Is that why you talk differently?” I ask, lashing out because I’m not getting my way.
“Sure.”
“Can I call you ‘Precious’ instead of ‘Goliath’ from now on?”
“Call me whatever you want. What do I care?” he says, shrugging his wide shoulders.
According to River, Lineke and Goliath used to flirt when she was a waitress at a local restaurant called The Barnyard. He must have been in his early twenties. I assume prison or bad women killed his ability to seduce a woman because what he’s doing now isn’t working.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” I ask, feelings hurt.
“I ain’t begging you to stay.” Goliath grins at my expression. “How come you throw yourself at me now, but got offended when I asked you to suck me off?”
“I don’t want to suck you off,” I mutter, ignoring the first part of his comment. “That seems like a sweet butt task. It’s not like they’re here for your personality.”
“Don’t get uppity. I’d have got you off too,” he says and makes a “V” with his index and middle finger before wagging his tongue at me between them.
“Did you stop maturing at fourteen?”
“If you’re looking for charm, why the fuck are you sitting here with me?”
“Fair point. I should leave you alone.” When I don’t get out of the booth, Goliath lifts an eyebrow. Shrugging, I explain, “I already ordered my sandwich.”
Goliath smirks when I pretend as if I’m waiting for my food. He knows I want to leave this table, but my pride won’t let me. Besides, I’m not grossed out enough by him to walk away for good. Though the idea of sucking off a man has me nearly ready to ditch this handsome dumb-fuck and retreat for safer territory.
THE GOLIATH
Lord have mercy, Shelby Campbell is like nothing I’ve ever seen. Except I’ve seen her plenty, but I still get hot all over whenever she focuses her bright brown eyes on me. And the sweater she’s wearing doesn’t help keep my brain in charge. Bright pale blue with pink letters across the front, spelling out “Live Your Life.” There might be other words underneath where the table cuts off my view. I guess it don’t matter. She’s filling out that sweater just right.
But Shelby’s ready to storm off. She wants me to say nice stuff to make her feel special. Women love that shit. I wasted a lot of time spouting compliments at chicks who only turned around and accused me of not caring enough. What’s the point?
Still, I oughta say something nice since she took the time to scare off Dione. “Your tits look good in that sweater.”
“I know. That’s why I wear it.”
“If you don’t want some sugar, why are you sitting with me again?”
“I don’t know. I like your hot bod, but your personality annoys me.”
“I feel the same way about you.”
Shelby suddenly smiles. “But you do like my hot bod, right?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“I’m too much woman for too many men.”
“Men like River?”
“No. He could handle me if I wasn’t grossed out by the brother vibe I get from him.”
“Well, I ain’t your brother.”
Shelby rolls her eyes. “No, Shane’s far more complicated.”
“Nomp.”
“No, nomp.”
Grinning, I can’t get enough of her bitchy frown. She gets riled up so easily. With me anyway. I don’t see her acting so high-and-mighty with her little group. Why is she saving all her drama for me?”
“How come you don’t have a man?”
“Men smell.”
I give my shirt a sniff and shrug. “I smell fine.”
“Not for long. Men get stinky fast.”
“Let me get this straight. You don’t want a man because they stink. But you keep hanging around me even though I stink. That don’t make no sense, girl.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she says, looking sad now. “Best not to think too hard about it.”
Her large sandwich arrives along with a Fanta. I didn’t even know they sold that gross soda here. Did they always sell that shit, or did they start once the Reapers took over? I can see Shelby insisting they carry her favorite flavor.
“Were you in love with Jaymes?” she asks and takes a bite of her sandwich.
“Sure,” I lie.
“Are you not in love with her anymore?”
“She got gone real fast after I got locked up.”
“She wasn’t loyal.”
Her tone irritates me, so I ask, “Would you have waited around for me?”
“Sure. I’m not the kind of person who replaces people I love. If Taylor stopped being my friend, I wouldn’t go find another Taylor. I can’t imagine I’d be any less loyal to a man I loved.”
I want to laugh at her simple thinking, but Shelby’s not putting me on. Rather than playing a con, she seems far more interested in her Gatsby sandwich. That thing is new to the menu too. A whole lot of shit changed when I was locked in a cage.
“How do you know about Jaymes?” I ask, despite hearing from Utah that Shelby does research on people.
Chase warned me that the Reapers don’t work like the Skullz. They’re not a bunch of mean rednecks looking for easy cash. They run shit like a business, researching problems and coming up with marketing plans. Their kills aren’t usually drive-bys or throwdowns. More like assassinations. That’s how River Majors and his Reapers took out Cum Shot, Swamp Thing, and Grabby earlier this year. It’s how they would’ve taken me out if I’d been paroled by then. No doubt, I’d have been on that back porch with Swamp Thing and Grabby when they got hit. I’d never have seen it coming either, and no one would miss me when I was gone. Just like how no one talks about Swamp Thing or Grabby these days.
“What’s happening with your face?” she asks, making fun of how I said that about her earlier. “Do you want part of my sandwich?”
“Can you finish that?”
“I didn’t get my fat ass from not finishing sandwiches,” she says and takes another bite. “I’ll let you have some, but you’ll have to compliment me. And none of that shit about how I’m good at sharing. I want compliments about stuff that matters like my good looks.”
I want to be irritated by her. The Reapers aren’t my people. I’m not theirs either. I stick around because I don’t know where else to go. The Reapers keep me in Shasta because I’m big. I also suspect it has something to do with a favor I did for Lineke back in the day. Her youngest daughter was a kid when that shit went down. Now Max Leroux is shacked up with my club president and carrying his kid.
Licking my lips, I lean closer and make sure Shelby’s got my gaze. She stops chewing and frowns at me.
“Sometimes, when I have trouble getting past the last mile with my dick, I just imagine those nipples of yours and, bam,” I say and slap the table, “I crack that nut. No other woman’s nipples ever got so much power over me.”
Shelby lifts one of her thick brows and leans closer. “Is that your way of complimenting me?”
“Why else would I say it?”
“But you haven’t even seen my nipples. You’re complimenting something that might not look anything like you think. I don’t know if that’s worth sharing food over.”
Leaning back, Shelby tears off a chunk of her sandwich and places it on a napkin. “But I’m great at sharing, so I’ll let you have a bite.”
She slides the napkin toward me and returns to eating her food. “Sharing is an essential duty for a big sister. My baby bruv needed to always feel satisfied.”
I glance in the direction of where Shane usually sits and then back at Shelby. I don’t eat the sandwich she offered. I feel like the food is a trick. Like with her coming out to my trailer. She’s playing a fucking game, and I’m a little kid falling for her tricks.
“I heard you’re a lesbian like your friend, Taylor. Is that why you never fucked anyone in Shasta?”
“I wish,” Shelby says with her mouth full. “Women usually smell far better than men, but I can’t look at a chick and think about fucking. It does nothing for me. I don’t think I could even fuck a chick as a three-way with a man. I’d still be weirded about another naked woman.”
Shelby says all that shit as if she’s sharing information with a friend about a trip to the grocery store. The little bitch gets me hard enough to consider going to the john to find relief, but she don’t care. Doesn’t even notice.
Then Shelby’s gaze finds mine, and she grins deviously. Oh, she fucking notices.
“I don’t know why I like you and not Chase or Vowel or some other guy.”
“Chase is married.”
“So what? This is Shasta, and you’re all a bunch of whores here. No, if I wanted him, I’d steal him away from his wife. But I don’t want him. I want you.”
“Because you want to mess with my head.”
Shelby rolls her eyes. “No, dumbass. I just like your face. It’s the rest of you that makes me uneasy.”
“What’s wrong with the rest of me?”
“You’re too large. I have concerns about getting injured during our intimate moments,” she says, smirking at her wording. “Plus, you’re rude, and I think you'd make me cry.”
“But you’re not worried about the smell?”
Shelby doesn’t answer right away. She swallows her food and wipes her lips before holding my gaze. “For you, no, I’m not.”
“For me,” I grumble, ready to flip the table and put her bullshit in its place.
“You have a nice face. If Chase had your face, I’d steal him away from his wife. If Utah had your face, I’d turn him straight. They don’t have your face, though.”
“Now, I know you’re fucking with me.”
“Because you don’t think I could turn Utah straight?” Shelby asks with her mouth full again. “Yeah, I probably couldn’t, but...”
Her need to chew mangles the rest of her words. Finally, she swallows and then frowns at the chunk she offered me. “If you don’t want to eat it, I will. That shit ain’t cheap, and my mom taught me not to waste food.”
“Was your mom a sneaky bitch too?”
Shelby takes a swig of her Fanta and then rests her hands on the table. “Listen up, you fucking tree. My mother is a damn saint. She’s suffered more than your tiny fucking brain could ever imagine. She raised my brother and me with endless love despite never knowing that kind of feeling when she was little. The woman is perfection. Now I’m very fucking sorry your mother is a twat who thinks you’re beneath her, but that does not mean you should take your resentments out on me or my mom. Do you understand?”
“I like it when you get pissed.”
“Never fucking talk about my mom,” she growls and gets up to leave.
I oughta let her flee like a drama queen. She’s fucking with me, and I know better than to play this game.
But she’s so damn pretty that a man is allowed to be a little dumb and weak to keep her around.
I reach over and wrap my fingers around her forearm. “I’m sorry if you took offense.”
“That’s not a real apology. That’s you feeling sorry over me being upset, not for what you said to upset me.”
“I’m sorry I talked shit about your mom. I don’t know her. She sounds like a fine woman.”
Shelby’s cheeks are bright pink with anger. She wants to storm off. I’ve seen her do it before in the Saloon, and I know she enjoys these drama-filled displays. I guess my face—or her game—must be too tempting because she sits her sexy ass back in the booth.
“My family means everything to me,” she says and takes an angry bite of her sandwich. “Sorry you didn’t have that growing up.”
“How do you know what I did and didn’t have?”
“Same way I knew about Jaymes and Becklyn. When you were getting paroled, I asked around for information about you. I even talked to your mother.”
Scowling now, I lean forward. “What’d you do that for?”
“To see what she would say. Duh,” she mutters and rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t good. She didn’t even compliment your height or face or nothing. I mean, shit, you ride a really fine-looking hog, but she only bitched about bikers. It was sad. I felt pity for you.”
“Stay away from my mom.”
“No problem. She hates bikers and tried to convert me.”
Crossing my arms, I grumble, “How would you like if I talked to your mom about you?”
“I wouldn’t care as long as you were nice to her. The only negative thing she’d say about me is that I don’t sleep well since moving to Shasta. Otherwise, she thinks I’m her little angel.”
Shelby’s expression when she talks about her mom pisses me off. Mostly because I have trouble distrusting her when she doesn’t spout bullshit. This woman clearly loves her family. That’s not a con. Her anger wasn’t either. She just handed me a large target to use against her. Why show me anything? I don’t get Shelby’s play here, but I never really did. I just assumed she was bored, and I was the new guy she could torment.
Now I sit here, wondering why she doesn’t sleep well. Probably has something to do with the smell from the fucking rendering plant just outside of town. I can’t imagine her hometown Ellsberg is any safer than Shasta. Towns run by criminals ain’t fucking Mayberry.
But I’m not sure if I should ask her any questions. She’s already bugging the shit out of me with her teasing and pretty looks. Why dig myself deeper into the hole she’s trying to shove me down into?
THE WEIRDO
Goliath wastes food. That might be a dealbreaker. More than his man-stink and his rude mouth or how he doesn’t seem to like me all that much. Yeah, wasting food is a bridge too far.
“Are you allergic to yummy foods?” I ask and gesture toward the sandwich he hasn’t eaten. “Or are you on a diet?”
For half a minute, his expression remains frozen on tough-guy-blank before he allows a small smile. “What if I don’t want it?”
“I’ll give it to someone else. Is Vowel here?” I ask and glance around. “He asked if I wanted to share a sandwich and a beer last week. I think maybe he was flirting, but possibly he just likes sharing food.”
“I’m not gonna get jealous if you give this sandwich to Vowel.”
Taking his challenge, I reach over for the sandwich. Goliath watches my face while I steal back the napkin-wrapped food.
“You gonna cry?” he asks, smirking.
“Maybe. I really want to like you, but it’s not really happening, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“But you don’t care. Not even for a shot at access to my nipples. Talk about a body slam to my ego, but I’ll survive. Yes, I will survive,” I say and scoot out of the booth. “I’ll send Dione back over, so you can return to ignoring her.”
Goliath doesn’t throw me even a hint of a bone. He just doesn’t care. I’m chasing a horny man with barely enough interest to insert his dick in me. I refuse to think low of myself just because he does, but my feelings are still bruised.
I walk away without looking back. There’s no point. I gave it two shots, and Goliath never played games. He’s a real straight shooter. Fucking me once or twice will work, but it won’t mean anything more than when he fucks Dione or Kim or whatever that giggly new sweet butt’s name is.
“Sandi with an I,” Taylor says as she helps me finish my sandwich. “She’s the kind of chick I’d fuck if I weren’t in a committed relationship.”
I shoot a dirty look at Taylor. “Stop rubbing your happiness in my face. I get it. Everyone is in love. Everyone gets their special someone. Not me. I suck.”
The tears feel wrong, but I’ve been thinking about Goliath for months. I tried everything to get him out of my system—short of fucking him—and I finally made my move when it became apparent that he wouldn’t make his. Having found a man to lust over, I’m shocked to realize he thinks I’m a big bowl of nothing.
“Now that you know you can overlook stink,” Taylor says softly, “there are plenty of men you can date.”
“Who, though?”
“I bet we can find someone. Plenty of someones, in fact. We’ll even look for guys in different Reapers-controlled towns. Like if some club guy in Pema interests you, we’ll have Cooper send him here so you can test him out. If he sucks, you send him back.”
“I guess he doesn’t need to be a biker. Though it’d be easier if he was in the Reapers, of course. I wouldn’t have to hide shit from him, but I’m not against dating a normal guy.”
“Yeah. Now that you’re on the market, we’ll find you plenty of options. I mean, half of the guys in the club were interested in you when we moved here. You blew them off because of the stink thing. We’ll find you someone, no problem.”
Sighing, I nod. “I don’t know why I liked Goliath at all.”
“He’s handsome, Shelby. Nothing more complicated than that. You might have also been hormonal the first day you saw him. Those lady chemicals put Goliath on a pedestal. But it’s not him. It’s you. You’re ready for a man in your life. At least temporarily.”
