by Blue Remy
“Don’t you ever question my love for your mother,” Stone pointed his finger at Amy. “You have not played club politics in a long time, Amy. You know how these boys are.”
“You never slept with any of the pass-arounds.”
Stone ran his fingers along the close cropped hair. “Because I’m different, Amy.”
Sweeping up the rest of the hair roughly, she emptied the dust pan into the trash. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe he’s like you?”
Stone snorted, cracking the beer. “That is highly doubtful.”
“Oh really?” Amy placed her hands on her hips. Her dad was not going to win this argument. “Have you ever seen him with any of the club whores? Lord knows Tasha and Shae have been trying to get in his pants.”
Amy watched her father deflate right before her eyes.
“No, he hasn’t.” Stone conceded reluctantly.
Tasha and Shae were the two most passed around women in the club. The girls were trying to find an Ol’Man to support them, but they were too desperate to realize no one wanted them like that. They were nothing more than entertainment for guests or a brother that might be lonely or fought with an Ol’Lady and wanted to get his dick wet elsewhere. If they couldn’t get into Mace’s pants, no one could.
Amy’s chest puffed out a bit, happy that she finally won that round. “I rest my case.”
Stone sighed, making his way out of the kitchen. He muttered under his breath, but she heard every word he spoke. “I don’t like it, but no. She won’t listen to me. Nothing good is going to come out of it.” He paused just at the entrance to the den, glancing over his shoulder at her. “He hurts you, I will bury his ass.”
* * * *
Can you say par-tay?
Mace shook his head as he grabbed another round of beers for the officers sitting in the clubhouse lounge. Romeo, Demon, Axe, Saber, Talon, Wolf and Hawkeye were in their drunken glory, including the new hang-around, Dalton, who happened to be sponsored by his brother, Saber.
Stereo blared good old fashioned hard rock, girls scantily clad in leather and chains danced in cages while one was all but making love to a stationary bike, writhing on the seat in time to the beat of the music. Romeo had Tasha on his lap, and a girl on either side of him. Mace wasn’t sure who was making out with who in that party, but Romeo was more than enjoying himself.
Passing out the round, he ventured back to the bar and made himself a rum and coke. His favorite drink, though he made it with less alcohol than he’d like. Making his way back to the group, he had no choice but to sit next to Demon. Fucking joy.
Romeo droned on about how women were like Harley’s, getting a rise out of the girls hanging on them. Mace wasn’t even paying attention. He didn’t give a fuck about how a woman vibrates like a Harley right before she climaxes. Though he couldn’t help but wonder what Amy did right before—yeah, he better stop before he had to readjust.
He hadn’t expected her to welcome his advances; he figured she would put up one hell of a fight. He knew Stone was going to skin his ass alive if he found out, and if that wasn’t enough to worry about, he had Romeo. He would be fucked and not in a good way.
He had no idea where it was going, but he knew it was going to be one hell of a ride. Amy was a spitfire and she would keep him on his toes. Mace wasn’t sure if he could ask for much more. The sad part was, in the end, he would destroy her world, and he wasn’t so sure he could live with himself if he did.
“Isn’t that right, Mace?”
Romeo’s voice brought him out of his daydream, causing him to blink and adjust in his seat. Shit. He was about to get his ass razzed over this. “Yeah, I agree.”
Everyone busted out laughing. Romeo was the worst with Tasha nearly falling off his lap, he laughed so hard. Fuck, what the hell did he just walk into?
“So, you’re telling me, that if a guy sucks your dick, and that’s all he does, you’re not gay?”
Yeah, fuck walking into that door. He straight up slammed head first into it. “Har har, bro.”
Romeo smacked Tasha’s near bare ass to get her off of his lap, eyeing Mace. “Who is she?”
“You ought to know, she was just on your lap.” Mace was going to avoid that like a nun on birth control. He knew exactly where Romeo was headed, and he planned on avoiding it at all costs.
“Nuhuh, bruh. Spill that shit. You’re not here right now. There are plenty of girls here and you’re ignoring that shit. The only time a man ignores all this prime ass in his face, is when there’s another woman on his mind. So, who is she? Share.”
Demon cackled, motioning Shae over to him. “Yeah, who is she, Prospect? Must be some gold you got there if you’re turning down Tasha and Shae.”
Like he would let Shae near his dick? Hell fuck no. Tasha was bad enough, but that piece of strange? No fuckin’ way. Demon could have that bat-shit crazy chick any time. Not only should she be in a mental institution, but she needed to be taught a lesson or two on what colors of makeup complimented her. Mousy brown hair, blue green eyes, and pink toned freckled skin. Some guys liked that, but with the sixties style blue eye shadow caked on and more foundation than a Colorado ski slope, she left a lot to be desired. Big tits, bigger ass and she wore tight fucking clothing that no woman her size should wear. There was nothing wrong with some meat on your bones, but don’t wear shit three sizes too damn small.
No, Mace was going to keep his mouth shut on this one. If he said anything, he was going to hurt people’s feelings, and being the club’s doormat, he figured it might be a bad idea. Instead, he shook his head and took a long sip of rum and coke.
Demon ordered Shae to bend over his lap and place her face on the seat next to him, so her barely covered rump stuck straight up. He reached into his pocket and produced a vial, unscrewed the cap and tapped out a white powder on her ass cheek. Razorblade was produced, blow was lined up perfectly.
Mace watched Demon snort the line, grunting loudly and throwing his head back as the rush hit him.
A loud sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the club when Demon smacked her butt cheek rather harsh, ordering her to be still. Laying out another line, he motioned for Romeo.
There was no hesitation in Romeo when he pushed one of his female companion’s legs off of his lap, and scooted over enough that he could join in on the coke-fest taking place.
Demon grabbed Shae by her hair, yanking her head up once Romeo was done. “Sit on the table.” Once she complied, one leg on each side of Demon, he manhandled her breasts, pushing her bikini top further apart, exposing her flesh to the men. Licking across her chest, he then tapped out another hit, using the blade to scrape it all in a neat line. Turning to look at Mace with unbridled malice, he sneered at him. “Your turn.”
Mace wanted nothing more than stomp a mudhole in his ass and walk it the fuck out. No, he didn’t want Shae, but that was no way to treat any woman, no matter if they were something the brother’s tossed aside when they were done. Clenching his jaw, he met Demon’s cold black eyes, his own never wavering. “No thanks.”
Demon’s lip curled up in a snarl, “I said your turn, Prospect.”
“Did I fucking stutter?” Head cocked to the side, never breaking his eye contact with the overgrown bully.
Demon laughed, then quit just as quick as he started. “Are you a fucking pig?”
Just. Great.
Mace rolled his eyes and motioned with his hand like he was jacking off. “Yeah, totally. Oink fucking oink.”
It had been tense when Mace denied Demon, but that sent the club brother’s roaring to life with laughter, beer bottles clanking in cheers at Mace dogging Demon like he was.
“I’m a recovering addict and I’m not going to fall off the wagon because you got your dick in a vice and think you know shit you don’t.”
Demon rose to his feet, moving toward Mace. “I think I’m smelling a crock of shit, Mace. I think you’re a fucking cop. You haven’t done anything that the rest of us have. You haven’t prov
ed your fucking worth yet. If you expect to get patched in, you better start acting like you’re a brother.”
That was a load of crap, he had proven his worth the moment he stopped Demon mid attack on Amy. He pushed out of his seat, meeting Demon face to face once again. One day he was going to put the cocksucker on his ass.
Romeo must have thought that moment was going to be now; he moved closer to the two. He was just far enough away, he could intervene if Mace ripped Demon’s head off and decided to shit down his throat.
“Everyone here knows I’m not a fucking cop. I refuse to get high when someone needs to watch your dumb asses and make sure that no one OD’s. Saber is the only other sober one here, and that’s because he’s a medic and can treat one of you idiots if shit hits the fan. You want Stone, who is my sponsor, to kick your ass for offering me that crap? Go right ahead.”
“You think you’re tough shit? You want a piece of me, boy?” Demon stepped closer, invading Mace’s personal space.
Romeo chose that moment to pat Mace on the back. “That’s mighty kind of you, playing nurse maid for all us drunk asses. Bad news though, bro. Our drinks are dry.”
Mace never moved from his spot. He didn’t blink at Demon’s challenge. If he swung, he could kiss everything goodbye. All of his work would go down the toilet, along with his career. Taking in a deep breath and counting to ten, he backed away from Demon, who smiled, assuming he won.
Maybe today. There wouldn’t be a next time.
CHAPTER 11
The morning brought no reprieve from her father’s ill mood over the Mace issue. It wasn’t like she was going to marry him, but she was very much interested in seeing where it went. Stone would barely say two words to her, causing Romeo to start asking questions.
Amy had to escape and the shop was the only way. Grabbing her things, she jumped into the Jeep and got away from her house as quickly as possible. The only good thing that came out of this, was Stone wasn’t going to stop her. He’d object the whole damn time, probably pout and make her life miserable, but he undeniably gave her permission, and promised he wouldn’t interfere. That was enough for her.
Making her way into the shop, she heard Antonia’s horrendous rendition of Cher’s “Believe” being belted at the top of his lungs. Snickering, she made her way toward the off pitch sounds of her friend. “Dear God, did I miss Mardi Gras?”
Antonia was decked out to the nines. Purple and gold tulle short skirt, matching purple hooker boots with a purple corset inlaid with golden threads. What really topped it off was the micro-braids in dazzling purple and gold. “No, why?”
With a slight twist of her head, she over exaggerated looking him over, and motioned with her hand. “Am I missing something here?”
“What?” Antonia did a slow spin like he was Wonder Woman. “I am dressed to impress. Can’t a diva look good?”
“Oh yes, by all means, sweet thang. Get your groove on.” Amy giggled, leaning against a shelf. “Did Maggie come in today?”
“Ugh, yes.” Sarcasm was his forte in that moment, along with an over the top eye roll that made his gold feather falsies flutter. “Please go tell that hooker to quit feeling sorry for herself. That is a one woman pity party back there.”
“Great,” she sighed in exasperation. She knew Maggie held grudges. What Latina didn’t? But this was ridiculous. Taking her time walking to the back, she pushed through the swinging door to the storage room. Maggie was right where Amy thought she would be, unpacking the newest shipment that had arrived that morning.
Amy approached with caution, rolling her bottom lip between teeth. “Maggie?”
Maggie never looked her way. She snorted, continued unpacking and checking in items against the shipping list. “Here to rub more salt in my wounds? Because if you are, you can keep it to yourself. I’m not interested.”
Ouch.
Amy cringed, mentally kicking her own ass for hurting her best friend. “Look, Maggie.” She raised her hands, only to drop them against her thighs, defeated. “I only want what’s best for you. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I honestly wasn’t trying to.”
She scoffed at Amy’s apology, turning around to face her. “Big girls like me don’t exactly get the cream of the crop, Amy. We get the leftovers. And the way I see it? Beggars can’t be choosers.”
Amy was mortified by how Maggie thought of herself. She wasn’t fat by any means. Voluptuous, she had curves, and she could kick someone’s ass if it came down to it. What had caused her to feel this way about herself? Had that piece of shit, Demon, wore her self-confidence down that much? “Oh my God, Maggie. Why would you say that about yourself? You are not fat. I wished I looked like you instead of a bean pole. Do think it is easy being so flat you make walls jealous? I can’t find a bra that fits, and if I do, it sure as hell isn’t the pretty stuff you get to wear!”
“Whatever.” Maggie shook her head, returning back to her work, sending out the message loud and clear that she was unimpressed with Amy’s apology.
The tip of her tongue played with edge of her canine tooth as hands rested on hips, to stare at Maggie’s back. What the hell else did she want? She apologized! “Fine.” Amy blurted out and shrugged, looking at the ceiling. She couldn’t believe she was about to give in to Maggie’s temper tantrum, especially when Demon was abusive and she knew he wasn’t going to stop. “If you really like the jerk that much, I’ll stop. But I swear to everything holy, Margarita, if he hurts you, I will kill him.”
Amy moved over to Maggie and pulled her into her embrace, hugging Maggie tightly to her. “Can we quit fighting now?”
Maggie nodded with a wipe of her eyes, moving over to the counter for a tissue.
Antonia peeked his head into the back where the girls were. “Is it safe now?”
Amy and Maggie laughed in unison, both girls agreeing it was fine to come into the back.
The diva sashayed into the stockroom, giving it a once over, nose wrinkling up. He then turned cat-gold eyes onto Amy. “So, how’s the stud?”
Amy’s mind flitted back to the memory of his lips against hers, the way he tasted of cinnamon gum and Dr. Pepper.
She blushed.
Antonia squeaked at the reaction, and clapped his hands together. “This calls for our annual hot chocolate and gossip! I’ll go start warming up the water and you, Miss Thang,” he waggled his fingers at Maggie. “You get the marshmallows, and you go sit in the spot.”
‘The Spot’ was a set of cushiony oversized and overstuffed couches that tended to swallow people whole when they sat in them. They were the couches someone would want to laze around in on a cold winter’s day and not come out until summer. And when Maggie and Antonia showed up with a tray of cups and marshmallows, and a plate of cookies, Amy wiggled deep down in one.
Amy blew on her hot chocolate when Antonia came out with it. “Well, spill it.”
“I’d rather not. That might burn.” Amy wasn’t going to indulge in their curiosities about her nonexistent love life.
Maggie popped a marshmallow into her mouth, wagging a finger at Amy. “Oh no. You will tell us all about the prospect.”
“I don’t kiss and tell.” Amy stared at the two, trying to get her point across.
Antonia’s well-manicured brows shot up, his neck moving his head back and forth as he asked, “Did you kiss?”
Amy offered Antonia a lewd grin, “Can’t you tell?”
Between Maggie and Antonia, you’d think Michael Jackson was discovered alive at Graceland. Whooping and cat calling, they unmercifully teased Amy.
“Well, how was it?” Maggie finally gasped for much needed air.
Pursing her lips, Amy’s right shoulder lifted and fell. “It was nice. Unexpected.” She desperately want to tell them about how Mace came in when Demon attacked her and took care of her after Mace chased Demon out of the house. She had no idea how he did it, but whatever he did, worked. She couldn’t hurt Maggie any more than she already had though. They had just made up and she d
idn’t need Maggie feeling like she was gloating or putting Demon down after she just promised she would stay out of it all.
“Are you going to see him again? Or are you planning on raping him?” Antonia coyly asked, batting his false lashes at her.
“You can’t rape the willing.” Amy’s mouth lifted into a teasing grin.
“That’s my girl.” Antonia purred, turning his attention to his drink.
Maggie nibbled on the edge of a cookie, stopping long enough to tilt her head and stare at Amy. “What about Stone? Does he know?”
Amy rubbed her free hand over her face, burrowing back into the cushions of the couch. She confirmed with a nod. “He knows. He’s unhappy with it. He’s pouting, not talking to me, but he’s not going to stop me … if that’s what I want.”
“Wow, I’m impressed.” Maggie hmph’d and looked between Antonia and Amy. “What about the party? What have you got planned?”
“It’s basically going to be your typical Santa Maria Style BBQ. Romeo will work the grill, and I’m supposed to make Mom’s dirt cake. I know some of the Nomads are coming in, but that’s about it.” Amy wanted to spill that it was also Mace’s birthday, but she was going to keep that to herself. She had a gift for him, something that was going to surprise him. Hopefully.
“Boring.” Antonia’s nose crinkled, he waved a hand in front of his face. “Do you need me to let you borrow some of my games?”
Amy burst out laughing, “I don’t think the guys would like to play Pin the Penis on the Male, but thank you anyway.”
“You gonna tell me, that those nasty ass hos those men have up in there, won’t play that game?” Antonia quirked a single brow, chin jutted out with his head cocked to the side.
Maggie grunted in a very un-ladylike way, “Puhlease. They’d rather play Hide and Seek the Penis.”
Amy giggled, setting her drink to the side. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll text you all with my clothing choices.”
“You better, girl. We can’t have you looking like you stepped out of some second rate orphanage.”
