by Hart, Lane
“I came here to tell you the same fucking thing, old man, and to see if you’re still holding a grudge. It’s been over two years. You need to get the fuck over it.,” I reply. Of course this dumb bastard is going to try and act all innocent, not giving a shit if his mess blows back entirely on Naomi. “It’s a shame you can’t get your head out of your ass. I had a damn good offer to settle up whatever debt Naomi owes you,” I inform him.
“Why the hell would you do that?” Harry asks. Some of the red tint fades to white in his wrinkled face. “Wait a second. Are you fucking her? You are, aren’t you? You piece of shit!”
“Damn right I’m fucking her. Earning every single penny of the ten thousand I agreed to settle up with you,” I tell him, which has Naomi calling me a few choice names under her breath.
“Why am I even surprised?” Harry asks. “For a man who hates gold-diggers, you’re messing with the wrong girl, Malcolm. She’s a whore just like her mother, fucking anything and everything for a dollar.”
“You son of a bitch!” Naomi shouts at him, unable to keep her mouth shut another second after that cruel insult. “Don’t you dare say shit about her!” She lunges for her father before I sling my arm around her waist to drag her backside flush with the front of my body. My dick, of course, reacts involuntarily, having gotten so attached to her ass the last few days and the amazing way it feels when she’s molded to my crotch. Naomi notices my body’s response to her and gasps before thankfully going still.
“Do you want me to pay up the ten she still owes you or not?” I ask Harry around her shoulder.
“She did owe me ten,” Harry sniffs. “Now it’s fifteen. She hasn’t made any payments this week.”
Asshole. I knew this was the game he would play, always demanding more money because of his made-up, insanely high interest rates.
“Fine,” I say with an annoyed sigh. “I’ve got a custom-built vintage hardtail chopper bike in the shop that’s worth twenty K easy. It’s yours if we can call it even?”
Craning her neck around to look at me, Naomi’s blue eyes are wide in shock when she asks, “Why? Why would you give this bastard something worth way more than I owe him?”
“Because this greedy old bitch always demands more than the bottom line he thinks is due to him,” I explain quietly to her. “And he can’t resist a sweet deal for something that’s one-of-a-kind.”
“I too am confused as to why you’re going above and beyond to pay off her debt,” Harry says. “What’s your angle here, Hyde?”
Naomi is going to hate me in a few seconds. Which is a shame since we just had make-up sex for our last fallout less than twelve hours ago. Still, the MC’s best interest always comes first no matter what. The guys are my family. We’re closer than blood, and we do anything for each other through the good times and the bad. Fiasco just happens to enjoy playing the part of the little brother who frequently causes problems for the rest of us.
“We hear you’ve recently grown your amphetamine business,” I say to Harry.
“Malcolm!” Naomi exclaims, and I slap my palm over her mouth to keep her quiet.
“Well?” I ask Harry.
“What about my amphetamine business?” Harry asks.
“The Aces are looking to expand charters throughout the state, around big cities and universities. It would be an easy way for you to move product.”
“You think we could be business partners?” Harry chuckles. “You’re out of your damn mind, Hyde!”
Negotiating with this dickhead while Naomi fights my hold on her waist and mouth isn’t easy by any means, but I can work with it.
“Suit yourself. Your loss, old man,” I tell him. “We’d be willing to do a sixty-forty split your way, but I hear the Savage Kings of Myrtle Beach are offering a fifty-fifty deal...”
“Bullshit!” Harry exclaims. “I’m the only one dealing speed in the Carolinas!”
“Apparently not. And as big as the Kings are, they’ll not only take over your business but shut you down with their ties to the feds by the end of the year.”
“How many charters are you talking about expanding?” he asks, already coming around to the idea.
“At least five within a few months, maybe double that in a year’s time. All near big colleges. You know how the co-eds depend on speed to get through exams…”
“Five, you say? How much product could you move at a time?”
“However much will fit in about twenty-five backpacks,” I tell him honestly since that would be the mode of transportation. One on each biker’s back, zipping down the highway, praying the police can’t catch us.
“How often?” he asks now while rubbing his double chin in thought, now seriously considering the idea he thought was absurd a few seconds ago. That’s how fuckers like him are all programed. He’s no better than the gold-diggers we both hate since he’s all about chasing dollar bills too.
“Once a month at first to see how it goes. But who knows? If things work out, maybe twice a month or as often as once a week.”
That has his blond brow lifting with interest.
“I’ll think about it,” Harry says, even though we both know he’s a greedy fuck who is going to say yes. “Get me the custom bike, and I’ll be in touch.”
“Sure thing,” I tell him before I pick up Naomi and urge her forward, following my guys out the door who held up their ends of being silent but deadly threats. I’m glad it didn’t come to that. I’d hate for any one of my boys to die because of a diseased old prick like Harry.
As soon as we’re outside and I let my hold on her go, Naomi spins around and starts yelling at me. “I can’t believe you! Why did you do that?” she screeches as my guys freeze mid-stride to stare. They’ve never heard anyone talk to me the way she is right now.
“Which part?” I ask just to be a jerk.
“You know which part!” Naomi exclaims, putting her palms on my chest and trying to shove me. She actually succeeds in sliding herself backwards a few inches, so she must have given it everything she had in her small frame.
“Calm the fuck down and get your ass on the bike,” I order her quietly, offering her the spare helmet in my hand. But of course, she doesn’t move. “We’ll talk back at home,” I assure her through clenched teeth.
“Fine,” she huffs. “But only because we have a deal and I don’t break my promises. If not for that, I wouldn’t be able to look at your stupid face again!”
Her words have me biting back a grin as she jerks the helmet out of my hands and slams it down on her head, nearly busting her nose in anger.
Yep, I’m definitely gonna have to do some serious ass kissing if I want her back in my bed tonight.
Chapter Sixteen
Naomi
* * *
I’m surprised smoke isn’t coming out of my ears and nose. I’m so angry!
How could Malcolm agree to a business deal with that sleazy, old man! I thought he was on my side, not that asshole’s!
“Yo, Dev!” Malcolm calls out as soon as he turns his bike off in front of their clubhouse. “Mind grabbing my chopper and taking it back on the trailer?” He pulls out some keys from his pocket and dangles them from his fingers.
“Are you sure about this?” Devlin asks, echoing my sentiments. “You’ve been working on this bike forever.”
“Malcolm, you don’t have to do this!” I tell him when I grab the front of his leather cut.
“Yeah, I do,” he says. “Cash isn’t going to be enough for a greedy asshole like Harry. He’ll keep upping the price, coming back for more until you give him what he thinks is his fair share. That’s how those mafia motherfuckers do business.” Then, narrowing his dark green eyes as he glares at me and his friend, he says, “And I’ve about reached my goddamn tolerance limit on having all of my fucking decisions second-guessed today!”
“I never asked you do to this,” I remind him.
“I told you I would take care of your debt with Harry, and that’s what I’m
doing,” he tells me. Turning to the other man, he throws the keys in his direction so that he has no choice but to take them. “Go get the damn bike, Dev.”
“If you’re sure…” Devlin mutters.
“Congratufuckinglations. You’re taking my shift on the boat tonight too,” Malcolm says. The man backs away cursing, but then he gets back on his bike and rides away without any further protests.
“I don’t like this,” I tell Malcolm. “You giving up your bike and going into business with him. Is that…is that what this has been about the whole time? You were using me to get to Harry?” I ask in concern, more hurt than pissed at the moment as those ideas begin to suffocate me.
“No, the idea just came to me last night,” he answers. “The guys want to grow, and what better way than with a new drug?”
“Selling drugs is wrong, Malcolm.”
“Hey, we don’t make anyone take them,” he huffs defensively as he lights up a cigarette, like the slave he is to his nicotine addiction. “If they don’t buy from us, they’ll buy from someone else, so what the fuck does it matter?”
“It’s illegal!” I yell at him.
“Are you blind? So is about ninety percent of everything else we do,” he chuckles around the cancer stick hanging out of his lips. “Don’t worry about me, honey. I’m not getting locked up anytime soon.”
“How do you know that?” I ask. “Harry could set you up!”
“He’s not that stupid. The man loves money more than he wants revenge, especially since he now knows I never touched his ol’ lady.”
“Was that even true?” I ask softly.
“Yes, it was true! Do you really think I would ever fuck someone who had been with Harry?”
“No, but…”
“But nothing,” Malcolm says when he grabs either side of my shoulders and speaks around his cigarette in my face. “And I’ve heard enough of your mouth for the day. You can’t question me and yell at me in front of my own fucking MC, Naomi!”
“Sorry,” I mutter. I know he’s super pissed at me and that he’s sacrificing something important to him to help me. That custom bike he built must have taken months or even years, and he’s just giving it away to help me get out from underneath Harry, going above and beyond so that the asshole won’t keep coming back and asking for more money. “Thank you,” I add since I haven’t said that yet.
“I’m not doing it out of the goodness of my heart, honey,” he chuckles as he removes the smoke from his mouth. Grabbing my necklace in his other hand, he pulls me forward to shove his tongue into my parted lips for a dirty kiss that tastes like nicotine, a combination of black pepper and Malcolm, which I’ve quickly become addicted to.
“Right,” I reply around his mouth. “You’re only doing it out of the goodness of your dick.”
On the next swipe of his tongue, I suck on it until Malcolm groans and pulls away.
“Did I mention I have an office inside the clubhouse too?” he asks, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out with his boot without letting go of my necklace.
“No, I don’t believe you did,” I answer. “I’ve only ever seen the bar and one of the storage rooms…”
As soon as Malcolm’s fingers abruptly drop my necklace and he takes a step backward, I realize the mistake I’ve made – mentioning the place I fooled around with Fiasco.
“Just wait here while I go handle some shit inside,” he says when he turns and starts toward the building.
“Malcolm, hold on! I’m sorry. Please show me your office!” I call out to him. He holds up his palm for me to stop, clearly signaling that he’s heard enough.
Malcolm
* * *
I’m turning into a pussy.
That’s the only explanation there is for why I give two shits about who Naomi’s been with before me. I know full well about what she did with Fiasco, and yet every time I’m reminded of it, it’s like getting hit with a sledgehammer to the guts. The feeling isn’t getting better with time either. If anything, it’s intensifying. My jealousy is growing worse every second of the day that I’m with Naomi, and I have no idea how to stop it. The emotion defies logic and common sense, causing me to lash out and hit things – like the door to the chapel that now has a fist-shaped dent in it.
And hell, I can’t even remember why I had to come inside the pool hall in the first place. I’m pretty sure it was just my knee-jerk reaction to the jealousy that overwhelmed me. I had to walk away before I did something insane, like drag Naomi up on the roof to fuck her in front of the world in an attempt to appease my alpha tendencies.
After I sit my ass down in my chair at the head of the Dirty Aces’ meeting table and smoke half a pack of cigarettes, I finally feel calm enough to face her again. Surprisingly, the woman is still in the same place I left her and straddling my bike with her helmet on.
“Ready?” she asks with a hesitant smile like she’s unsure of my mood.
“Yeah.”
“Would you mind taking me by my house to grab a few more things?” she asks while reaching inside her helmet to push her short hair out of her eyes, looking sweet and innocent when we both know the truth.
“Fine,” I agree when I climb on in front of her.
After I crank the bike up, Naomi wraps her arms around my waist and shouts, “Do you need directions?”
“Nope,” I respond before I take off.
Rushing past the world at a high rate of speed is just as cathartic as usual. In fact, I’ve reeled in my anger by the time we park outside the white, rundown farmhouse, leaving only the simmering jealousy.
“This place looks like it would fall over if I sneeze on it,” I tell Naomi after we both dismount and remove our helmets.
“It’s not that bad,” she scoffs before leading the way up the steppingstones to the front door. I don’t even know why I’m surprised when she pulls a key free from underneath a flowerpot with some unknown plant that’s wilted in the dry summer heat.
“Nice security system you’ve got there,” I tell her rather than lecture her about how dangerous leaving a key on the porch like that could be.
“Nobody ever comes out this way,” she says when she pushes the door open and walks inside. “I’ll grab some things from upstairs and be right back.”
Once she’s gone up the creaking stairs, I stroll around through the living room where the dusty furniture looks like it’s several decades old. There are several colorful, handmade quilts tossed around and a thick old-school television that I’m surprised still works. Above the fireplace that probably hasn’t been used in years because of the heat the coast endures all year lately, there are several framed photos of a man and a woman, their wedding photo and then one where both of their hair has turned grey. Then, there’s a school picture of a young woman, who looks similar to Naomi, before a picture of a toddler, who I have no doubt is the woman upstairs. The kid has her big, blue eyes and light blonde hair, looking like a tiny angel with a sweet, innocent grin on her face that probably got her out of any trouble she caused.
Even years later, she still has that same power over me despite how much I fucking hate it.
I hear her footsteps on the squeaky stairs before I hear her voice. “All set. Let me just grab a bag.”
She walks by me with a folded stack of clothes and a small plastic container on top.
“What’s that?” I ask her when she grabs a plastic grocery bag from somewhere and stuffs her things into it.
“This?” she asks, holding up the piece of plastic.
“Yeah.”
“Birth control,” she answers with a grin that sends my mind right into the gutter as I immediately think about taking her again tonight without a rubber getting in the way.
Apparently reading my mind, Naomi sets her bag down on a brown leather chair and walks right up to me. She grabs my belt buckle to undo it as she sinks down to the floor on her knees.
And for the second time in a week, I find myself turning down a chance to fuck her
sweet mouth.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“What does it look like?” she replies as my belt comes free of the buckle.
“No,” I say, grabbing her hands to still them before she can pull out my dick and I change my mind.
“No?” she repeats, blue eyes widening in surprise and what looks like disappointment that I’m rejecting her again.
“No,” I reiterate. Clearing my throat when I turn away from her to fix my belt, I ask, “Do you need anything else?” I need to change the subject, because for the life of me I don’t have any answers to what the hell my problem is, and I’m sure she’s about to ask.
“No.”
“Good. It’s hot as hell in here, and I’m ready to get home,” I tell her.
“Oh, sorry,” she says as she gets to her feet again. “The, um, air conditioner is broken, and I haven’t had a chance to fix it.”
“Good thing you don’t have to stay here tonight, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she agrees with a sigh, shoving her clothes into a plastic bag. “Good thing.”
Chapter Seventeen
Naomi
* * *
Malcolm is so icy that it’s freaking me out. In fact, after we get back to his house, he doesn’t come straight to bed. I take a long shower, hoping he’ll join me. He doesn’t. So, after I dry my hair, I sit down on the bed and wait…
He turned down another blowjob from me, which would be a first for any other man, but is the second time for Malcolm. Now, I’m afraid to try and make a move for fear of him rejecting me yet again.
I don’t like the way it feels when he doesn’t want me. My entire body is off-kilter, like I can’t remember how to sit still or stand up straight. I’m anxious and annoyed.
After eleven, I give up and climb under the covers. Of course, with my mind in so much turmoil, I can’t sleep. I just lie there, waiting for him.
