Page 2 of Sinful Secrets

“Right, Tammy-lee. I do not know what you thought we had, but it was just one night. It’s only ever one night… Well, unless you score higher, then I may hop on for round two, but as you're a civilian, it’s usually just the once. Club bunnies are a different breed, they live for the biker cock,” I explain.

She jumps off the bed, letting the sheet fall to the ground. Ah, now I know why I slept with her as I watch her storm around, her large full breasts moving as if they are almost hypnotic.

“You're a pig, I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit,” she yells, grabbing her stuff.

“Darlin’, I never gave you any other impression it would be anything else,” I remind her.

She walks over and knees me right in the balls. “Fuck.” I groan as I fall to the floor, cupping myself.

“Jerk!” she yells over her shoulder as she storms out.

“Tammy-lee, three out of ten,” I wheeze.

“Tut-tut. You will never learn,” I hear Flo state from the doorway.

I get up off the floor, holding my hands out in defence. “How do you know I deserved that?” I answer back.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Khan, cover yourself up, would you?” she complains, covering her eyes. “And I know you deserved it because it’s you and the fact that you muttered three out of ten after she stormed out.”

“Flo, you can look you know, it’s truly a sight to behold.” I sway my hips, the sound of my dick slapping against my thighs.

“Eww, Khan, I can hear it!” She laughs, still covering her eyes. I laugh.

“Stop swinging your fucking dick around in front of my old lady!” Rip barks, coming up beside Flo.

I freeze straight away and cover myself, grabbing the sheet from the bed. “Sorry, Pres. In my defence, I'm in my room.” I smile.

Rip just sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head at me. “I swear to God, brother, if you have your dick out in front of my old lady again, I will cut the fuckin’ thing off!”

“Easy there, Pres, don’t be hating Vlad, he’s a beast, a monster, the Impaler of bitches,” I point out, gesturing to my cock.

Flo laughs and Pres just shakes his head. “Stop naming your dick, man. You keep whipping Vlad the Impaler out, I will behead the fucker,” Pres states, wrapping his arm around Flo and walking off.

“Hey! Florence Nightingale, you ain’t gonna check me for any damage? She kneed me pretty hard!” I yell after her, leaning out of my room.

“She should have done it harder,” Flo yells back.

“I love you too!” I laugh and shut my door.

I flop back down on my bed, wondering how all this shit changed so fast. Before it was just us brothers, the Satan’s and the club bunnies, there was booze and sex every damn night, you could never get enough pussy. Now things are different, Pres met Rose––also known as Flo––Mammoth is now shacked up with Riley, Hitman––also known as Axel––is all loved up with Patty––also known as firecracker–– and even the friends of the club are tied up with women because Blake and Carter are all pussy-whipped too. Ever since the Rocke family arrived in town it’s like they put a love spell on them all.

I'm not complaining really, they’re fucking hot women, and they are good fun. Just there is more family cookouts these days than wild parties.

I don’t plan on ever letting myself become pussy-whipped. When you fall in love people use that shit against you. These past few years have proved me right. Each and every time, people will always try to hurt you by going after the one you love.

After I get showered and changed, I need some food, so I head straight to the kitchen. Our club is large and a few of us have our own rooms here.

I'm standing at the fridge, drinking orange juice from the carton. “Goddamn it! Stop drinking from the carton! Other people have to drink out of that too you know? And there is no way of knowing where your mouth has been,” Trudy chastises and clips me around the back of the head.

“I can tell you where my mouth has been, but something tells me you wouldn’t want to know.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

She rolls her eyes and snatches the carton from me. “No, I don’t want to know,” she agrees.

I grab a sandwich off a plate that’s on the side and take a bite. “Hmm, tuna, my favourite,” I say, taking another bite.

“Goddamn it, Khan, that’s for Talitha!” Trudy points out.

I shrug. “Whoops.”

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