Page 6 of Mischief Mayhem

Trojan and I had come to the SRMC when I was twelve. After Mom went away, someone had to take care of me. My brother hadn’t even blinked before signing the guardianship papers and moving me from Pittsburgh to Madison County. He joined the SRMC shortly after that and got married to Marissa, the love of his life and one of the most awesome women I’d ever met. Once I turned eighteen, I prospected my way right on in with KC and Bear.

They’d been my best friends since we were kids, but once we’d patched in, they’d become brothers. I’d give my life for them and nearly had on several occasions. The oath I’d sworn to the Roses had protected me more times than I’d done for it, and I considered it my highest honor to call myself a part of their family. Besides, it wasn’t like I had an old lady or kids waiting for me at home. Compared to every other brother, I was dispensable, just another body in the war against the Caputis.

I used to revel in everything that came with being a part of a MC—the drugs, the booze, the women. God, the women. I’d known I was good-looking since I hit puberty and people my mother’s age started grabbing my ass whenever they wanted. Once I discovered I liked men too, they did the same. What could I say, I loved the attention. Who wouldn’t?

The problem came after Trojan died, and I realized all those meaningless hookups were just that. Worthless. Emotionless. I saw the intense intimacy KC and Alba had when they looked at each other. I watched Saint and Ru come to terms with their own adoration after keeping it secret for so long. Thor and Selene had finally gotten together after years of chasing after each other’s tails. I was never gonna have that if I didn’t clean up my act. It took one conversation with Ru to realize that if I ever wanted to find a love like that, I needed to take myself more seriously, perhaps starting by keeping my dick in my pants until I found someone worth taking it out for.

Losing my brother so young made me appreciate the fact that life was too short to live the way I was, and if I kept going, I wasn’t going to have anything to show for it but an early grave right next to Trojan. At least he had a widow. At least he had someone who could say they loved him and knew him better than anyone else in the world. All anyone had of me was the persona I put on every morning like a mask: good ole Hollywood, the guy with a smile for everyone, the one who would let anyone in his bed.

By the end of the day, I still didn’t have the Honda working and I’d run out of ideas. Frustrated and resolved to work on it tomorrow, I dropped off the ticket to Selene on my way to the time punch.

“I’ll have to check it out again later.” I shook my head and scratched at the back of my hair. “The CPU could be busted.”

Selene nodded and smiled. “Sure. I’ll see you at the clubhouse later.”

“You got it.” I cleared my throat and swallowed down the guilt of what I was about to ask. I figured Selene would be a good person because she had a reputation of keeping her mouth shut and not digging too deep. “Hey, do you know if V is planning to come?”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, assessing me for any sign of weakness. Like her husband, she was a hunter and sniffed out injured prey a mile away. “I think so. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” I tried to play it off like my gut wasn’t doing Goddamned somersaults, and I hitched my jeans higher on my hips. “I was just curious . . . ya know . . . who all is gonna be there and what not.”

“Uh-huh.” Selene tilted her head to the side, her bright blue eyes shimmering like she saw through me, all the way down to my bullshit. As my best friend’s twin sister, she had known me as long as him and nearly as well. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your little freak out at the Beacon’s reopening . . . would it?”

“I didn’t freak out.” I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. Was it startling to see V decked out in leather with a crop in her hand? Yes. Was it even more shocking to see her skill with a cat-o’-nine-tails? Absolutely. Did it rattle me to the very core of my sick, perverted, sex-deprived heart? I plead the fifth.

“Sure,” she said, taking a step closer to me. “Then what would make you get up and walk away while your buddy’s sister was on stage performing her heart out?” Selene furrowed her eyebrows, pretending to play dumb. “Are you suddenly a big prude?”

“No,” I spat, physically repulsed by the idea. If anyone in the MC were comfortable with their sexual liberation, it was me. I didn’t limit myself to pussy. I enjoyed all humans, everything being a solid three on the Kinsey scale meant to our species. “I needed to get some air.” I coughed, my throat suddenly too dry. “Besides, it was lucky I did, considering what happened afterward.”

The whole place had exploded.

“Okay.” Selene let out a small laugh and shook her head like she could see Liar stamped on my forehead. She patted my shoulder as she passed me, heading toward Thor’s office in the back. “Have a nice night, Hollywood.”

“Yeah, you, too.” I turned and put my sunglasses on before heading out to my beat-up two-door pickup I’d inherited from Trojan ten years ago. It drained batteries and leaked oil like a son of a bitch, but I couldn’t afford anything else, so I had to keep it running until the wheels fell off. After swinging by the house, where thankfully Ru and Saint weren’t home, I grabbed a quick shower and tried to forget about that conversation with Selene.

Seeing V up on stage dominating our friend, Candy, lived in the darkest parts of my imagination. But if I were honest with myself, something had changed with her the moment she came home from college. When we were in school, she was Bear’s little sister—the goth girl that gave me shit for sleeping around and wearing more hair products than she did. She’d gone away and come back a fucking powerhouse. She’d grown into her curves, confidence radiating out of every pore, and when she stared at me with that heated violet gaze, preparing to cut me down to size, I hung on the edge of my seat, just waiting to see what she would say.

Of course, she didn’t think of me that way, and up until that night at the Beacon, I’d been very careful not to think of her that way, too. But fuck me . . . the dreams I’d had since then would make Bear beat my face in. If her brothers found out the things I’d been thinking, if her father found out, they’d feed me to the pigs. I was secure enough in my masculinity to admit when I was outnumbered, and the Montgomery men would pummel me for even considering it.

Standing in the shower, the house blissfully silent, I let myself sink into that fantasy again—the one where she tied me to a chair, my hands linked behind my back with ropes holding down my shivering muscles and anticipation brewing in my gut at watching her slink closer. She wore her chunky platform boots, a tiny black miniskirt with metal chains, and a cropped Bad Company T-shirt, arguably the most underrated band of all time.

“You’ve been such a naughty boy, Hudson,” she said, using my last name.

Bound and gagged like this, all I could do was murmur a quiet, “Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ve got a lot of making up to do, you sick little perv.” She slapped the riding crop in her other hand as she circled me, waiting until she was behind me to lean down and whisper in my ear. “You think I don’t know that you stand in the cold shower and pull your dick thinking about me? You think I don’t see the way you stare? Oh, I know what you want, you nasty fuck.”

I gulped, watching as she came back around to the front, stepping in between my bare legs to stare down at me like a disapproving Goddess to her reckless devotee.

I’ve been bad. So, so bad. Do it. I deserve it.

“And I’m going to give it to you.” V raised the crop and brought it down with a harsh thwack on the inside of my leg.

The sting feels so good, and it’s for her. She owns me. She owns every part of my body. I let her have it.

I didn’t stand a chance. The idea of her using me the way she’d used Candy, bringing me unimaginable pain mixed with the release of incredible ecstasy, had me shooting my load down the drain before I could catch my breath.

Perhaps it was the eight months with no action that had me leaning up against the shower wall and panting like a raging alcoholic in a distillery. I’d never come like that thinking about anyone else in my life, which was probably why she kept the starring role.

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