“A meal of salad and water,” I muttered.
“We all can’t have a hot hunk land in our lap who looks like a bad boy but treats us like gold.”
“Is this your odd way of telling me I got a good guy?” I laughed. I sat down on the couch and kicked my feet up on the coffee table.
“You know you’re a lucky bitch, just don’t do anything to fuck it up.”
I didn’t have any plans of doing that. “Now I just have to pray he doesn’t do anything to mess it up, right?”
She walked to the door and looked out the peephole. “This about the club again?”
“I just don’t like it,” I sighed. “I have a bad feeling about it.”
She turned around and stared me down. “You got yourself a good man, Kimber, but he’s fresh out of prison. You can’t be surprised by the fact that he decided to join an MC.”
I didn’t need a reminder of that. “Just because he was in prison doesn’t mean the only thing he can do is join an MC.”
“You’re right, but you can’t sit there and tell me it doesn’t make sense. I mean come on, Kimber, he’s got a face tattoo. Not many business opportunities for him with a rap sheet.”
So he had a face tattoo. It didn’t bother me at all. In fact, it was one of his tattoos that I liked the most. I couldn’t picture Quinn without it. “Prison and a face tattoo aren’t a free pass into an MC.” I looked up at her. “And you’ve been in the Quinn camp since we started dating. What’s with all of this talk?”
She rolled her eyes. “I do think Gear is a great guy. Much better than the creeps you used to date. I just don’t want you to think that you can change the type of man he is, Kimber.”
“And what kind of man is that?” I asked.
“He’s the type of man who will do whatever he needs to do, and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks about it.”
“And you’re an expert on men like Quinn?” I didn’t like where our talk was going. I didn’t want to change Quinn. I didn’t want him to be anything but he wanted to be. I was just having a hard time wrapping my head around the club, but I was trying to keep an open mind.
We met four days after he got out of prison. He had been looking at the apartment at the end of the hall, and I wound up riding the elevator down with him after he was done. There was a mutual attraction, and when he asked me out for dinner, I hadn’t hesitated to say “yes.” We hit it off instantly, and we were inseparable when I wasn’t working. What I loved about him was that he didn’t shy away from his past. He had told me straight off that he had been in prison, and instead of being scared or turned off by it, I respected him for telling me and not hiding it.
Fancy opened her mouth to argue but jumped when the door buzzed. “God dammit, Greg,” she gasped.
“Greg?” I laughed.
She flipped me off. “Better than Quinn.”
Hardly, but I wasn’t going to argue. “Answer the door and leave me to my pizza.”
She pointed her finger at me. “We’re gonna talk about this later,” she promised.
We weren’t because by the time she came home from her date, Quinn would be home and I wasn’t going to answer the door for her. “Have fun on your date with Greg,” I called.
She opened the door, and I was able to glimpse a tall man with dark hair holding a bouquet of flowers before she shut the door.
He looked sweet and nice.
Fancy was going to chew him up and spit him out.
I grabbed a slice of pizza from the box and turned on the TV.
Everything she said, I needed to think about, but tonight was not going to be the night I delved into that. Tonight was pizza and watching Food Network until Quinn came home.
Head firmly buried in the sand for at least another day.
*
Chapter Three
Quinn
Same party, different bullshit...
“Clean him up.”
“Fucker never stood a chance.”
Hog and Myxer, the president and VP of the club, walked away from the cage shaking their heads.
“Lemme at him again. I can fucking win.” Core tried to get up off his knees, but his legs gave out and he fell flat on his face.
“Uh, I think you’re done for the night, Core.” I crouched down in front of him and handed him a bottle of beer. “I thought you had him there for a second.”
Core smiled. “Yeah, I totally had him.” He sat up and took a swig of the beer and spit it out. “Lost my footing and it gave him an opening.”
I didn’t want to break it to him, but Major had an opening the second Core opened his mouth by challenging him to fight. I stood up and held out my hand for him to grab. “You’ll get ‘em next time, brother.” In the four months I had been a prospect for the Rolling Devils, Core had gotten his ass kicked nine times. Each of those times, the ass kicking was done by Major.
I hoisted him off the ground and put one of his arms over my shoulder. Major had kicked his ass, but he had also taken some cheap shots at Core’s expense. We wove our way through the crowd that was lingering by the fighting cage and limped into the clubhouse.
It was half past two, and I was ready to go home, but I knew I couldn’t leave until Major gave me the go-ahead that it was okay.
The guy who had just kicked Core’s ass also happened to be the biggest asshole in the club, and it was hard as hell some days not to tell him to fuck off. I loved the brotherhood of the Rolling Devils, but there were also some things I didn’t like yet was overlooking them for the time being. I needed to bide my time when I was a prospect and not overstep.
I helped Core into his room and got him cleaned up.
I walked out of Core’s room, and Major called, “Prospect.”
Here we go. He was either going to tell me to take off for the night or give me a list of shit to do that was a mile long. When I decided to join the club, I knew being a prospect wasn’t going to be easy, but this shit was straight-up hard.
For the past thirty years of my life, I did whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. Now I had someone constantly breathing down my neck intentionally making my life hell.
I made my way down the hallway to where Major was standing with his arm slung over the shoulders of some random chick. “Need something, Major?”
“Max threw up in the kitchen, and all the garbage cans are overflowing.”
I nodded. I wasn’t going to be lucky tonight. If I got out of here before four, I would be surprised. “You got it.”
“Also, Hog needs his bike washed before he rolls out in the morning. Once you get that all done, you can take off.”
I had just washed Hog’s bike two days ago, but I couldn’t argue that fact. Major told me to do all of this bullshit because he was testing me. Seeing what it would take for me to break.
That wasn’t going to happen tonight. “I’ll get right on it.”
Major looked me up and down and smirked. “You do that, prospect.” He waltzed off down the hallway with the chick attached to his hip, and I headed to the kitchen.
By the end of the night, I was ready to kill Max for not being able to find a fucking garbage can and Hog’s bike was sparkling under the outside lights.
“What in the fuck are you doing to my bike, prospect?”
I dropped my rag into the bucket and turned around to see Hog standing in the doorway of the clubhouse. The party had cleared out for the most part, and I was looking forward to heading home. “Just washing your bike before I head out for the night,” I explained.
“You washed that shit two days ago, and I only drove to the fucking gas station.”
Facts I already knew. “Well, just making sure she was clean.”
Hog took a drag on his cigarette and shook his head. “Major is riding the hell out of you, huh?”
If I said that, then it would look like I was complaining, but if I said he wasn’t, then Hog might tell him to step up his game. “It’s all good. He’s making sure I’m ready to join the club.”
Hog laughed and tossed his cigarette butt on the ground. “If you make it into the club.” He closed the door on his cryptic words.
Fucking hell.
I wanted to be a part of this club, but hell if I knew whether it was going to happen.
When I did time for aggravated assault, my cellmate told me about an MC in his hometown he was going to join up with once he got out. He still had four years of his sentence ‘til he could join, but since he had talked it up so much, I decided moving a few states over and starting a new life was exactly what I needed.
Jason had been a hang-around before going to prison but mentioning his name when I approached the club had helped me get a foot in the door. I hadn’t made much headway since, but I had gotten my prospect rocker and that was at least a start.
I finished putting away all the shit I had used to wash Hog’s bike, then headed straight for my bike. I knew if I went back into the clubhouse, one of the members would find some bullshit for me to do.
The ride back to our apartment was a half an hour, and by the time I made it there, I was dead on my feet and just wanted to fall into bed. She left the kitchen light on for me like always, and I flipped it off on the way to her bedroom. My clothes didn’t even come off before I fell into bed, and she rolled into me.
“Quinn,” she whispered.
“I’m home, baby.”
“You okay?” She asked me the same thing every night I came home late from the club.
“Good now.”
She sighed and pulled the covers over us. “Night.”
I fell asleep with her body pressed against me wondering when in the hell things were going to change with the club.
Until then, at least I had Kimber to come home to every night.
*
Chapter Four
Quinn
How bad can it be...?
“Remember, there’s another party tonight.”
Kimber kicked her shoes off and beelined straight to the fridge. “They’re still going through with it? Aren’t they still hungover from last night?” she asked over her shoulder as she walked past me. She grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and set it on the counter.
“They probably are, but hair of the dog, baby.” I walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
“I just worked four hours on a Saturday that I wasn’t scheduled to work but did because Maddy needed the day off and I’m too nice of a person to say no.”
I nodded. “I know, baby. I listened to you bitch this morning while you got dressed.” When Kimber had rolled out of my arms when her alarm went off at seven, she bitched in the dark about Maddy, then pressed a kiss to my lips before she left. I had woken up half an hour before she came home from work. I tried to act like I hadn’t slept all morning, but I knew she wasn’t buying it.
“Quinn, I really don’t want to go out tonight. Tomorrow is my only day off, and I don’t want to waste it being hung over nine tenths of the day.” She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with wine. “Can’t you skip the party and stay with me?”
Kimber didn’t get what being a prospect meant. Especially being a prospect for the Rolling Devils. “I can’t, but I know it'll be more bearable if you’re with me.” I hoped if I brought her along, they would lay off me doing stupid shit all night.
She took a sip of her wine and glared at me. “If I go, I’m wearing leggings and a sweatshirt.”
I didn’t care what she wore as long as she was there. “You can wear a garbage bag and tin foil shoes, baby.”
She wrinkled her nose. “While a garbage bag seems flowy, I don’t think I could do the tin foil shoes.”
“Baby, wear whatever the fuck you want. Just say you’ll come with me.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll go, but I can tell you right now, I am not going to enjoy a second of this.”
I really didn’t know if she would or wouldn’t like it, but she wouldn’t find out either way until she gave it a chance.
She came to stand in front of me with her glass in one hand and pressed her palm to my chest. “You know you’re totally going to have to make this up to me.”
I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close. “Is that so?” I whispered in her ear.
“Yep.” She tilted her head back to look up at me. “I was talking to Kelly today.”
When Kimber came home talking about Kelly, I knew she was going to want something crazy. “What did she talk you into today?” I chuckled.
“I want a tattoo.”
Kimber had virgin skin. A needle had never even been close to her skin. While I was basically covered from head to toe with tattoos, I preferred her just the way she was. “You sure about that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“What and where are you thinking of getting it?”
A huge smile spread across her lips. “I saw this super adorable shooting star that I want to get behind my ear.”
“A shooting star?” That was not at all what I had expected her to say.
She nodded. “Yep. And I want you to take me to get it.”
“I’ll talk to the guys at the club and ask them who they think is a good guy to go to here.” I was new to Whitmore Lake, Michigan, but I knew the club would know where to go to get some decent ink.
“How long do you think that is going to take?” she asked hopefully.
I brushed her hair from her face and pressed a kiss to her lips. “A day or two, baby, and then I gotta make you an appointment.”
She pumped her fist in the air and spun around in my arms. “Whoop! I can’t wait!”
I pulled her against my chest and smiled down at her. “I didn’t think you would ever want a tattoo, baby.”
She shrugged. “I guess I’ve learned to appreciate yours and see that they can mean a hell of a lot more than you know.” She reached up and brushed her fingertips over the tattoo I had next to my eye. “This one's my favorite of yours,” she whispered.
I grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. “Of all of my tattoos, that is the one you like the most?” She didn’t even know what that tattoo represented to me. It wasn’t anything to like. I had gotten the upside down cross tattooed next to my eye when I had gotten out of prison.
“Hmm, I like the big one on your chest, too, but this one on your face just seems to do it for me,” she purred. “Though I would like to know exactly what it means.”
I glanced at the clock on the stove. “We need to leave in about four hours. I think that gives us just enough time for you to tell me just exactly what you like about all of my tattoos.”
“Just as soon as you tell me what this cross means.” She reached up again and tapped her finger lightly against the tattoo.
“Surprised you didn’t just Google it, baby.”
She rolled her eyes. “Only you would have a tattoo that could mean an array of things. From what it said you could be a devil worshiper, or it could be something about Peter from the bible not wanting to be crucified the same way as Jesus because he wasn’t worthy. It could also mean you’re an atheist to where you don’t believe in god.”
“Damn, baby. You really did Google it.”
“So, which one is it?” She laughed. “I don’t think it’s the devil worshiper. If it is, I really don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”
“Humility.”
She pursed her lips and sighed. “Oh.”
“Along the lines of the Peter thing. Read about it when I was in prison, and I guess it stuck with me when I got it. Day after I got out I got this tattoo.”
“Can I just say I am incredibly relieved?”
I grabbed her hand. “Can we get back to the other tattoos you like? I think I might need to see just exactly which other ones you like.”
She set her wine down and then trailed her hands down my chest and pulled up the hem of my shirt. “That sounds like a good way to pass time. And maybe I can convince you to stay h
ome with me.”
I took her hand and pulled her to the bedroom.
I would enjoy her trying, but it wasn’t going to work.
Her ass was going to that party tonight.
“Give it your best shot.” I flopped back onto the bed and folded my arms behind my head.
Kimber pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. “There really is no chance of me convincing you to stay, is there?”
A smirk spread across my lips. “Not a nun’s chance in hell, but you’re welcome to try.”
“Well, I can tell you right now, there isn’t a nun in this room.” She popped open the button on her jeans and tugged the zipper down.
“Is it strange I just pictured you in a nun’s habit while you’re down on your knees sucking me off?” No fucking shame when it came to Kimber. I wanted her anyway I could have her, and that now included a nun habit.
She pressed her hands together in front of her. “Forgive me father, for I’m about to sin.” A smile spread across her lips, and she planted a knee on the bed.
Her hands traveled up my legs and tugged open the button and zipper of my jeans. She worked my pants down my legs and tossed them on the floor. “You’re just getting right to it, baby.”
She spread my legs wide then shimmied her way up the bed ‘til she was kneeling before my dick and her hands were splayed on my thighs. “I’ve only got four hours, Quinn.”
As if four hours wasn’t enough time. I jackknifed up, threaded my fingers through her hair, and tugged her close ‘til her lips were almost touching mine. “Then get to work.”
My lips pressed brutally against hers, and her fingers dug into my arms while she held on. She took everything I gave, and I could tell that wasn’t enough for her. Kimber was insatiable.
She ended the kiss with a nip to my bottom lip, and she winked as she pushed me back onto the bed. “Stay right there,” she ordered. She scooted her knees back and bent over ‘til my dick was bobbing in front of her face. “Be a good boy, Quinn.”
Drop a Gear and Disappear (Kings of Vengeance, #1) Page 2
