Page 11 of Towles

4

Trixie

Ihad to decide between two worlds: FBI agent or biker bitch. I’d put years of blood, sweat, and tears into the first. I worked my way up through the organization and into a position where I pretty much called my own shots.

Before infiltrating the club, I hated the whole idea of a motorcycle club. I hated what a club member did to Kristine. But the assholes drew me in like a bug to fire. I loved the raw edges of the men, the ink, the alcohol, and the back and forth between the bikers and their old ladies. I enjoyed the late-night parties and fucking men who knew how to fuck. The club provided freedom from the chains society placed on people: nine-to-five jobs, kids, a house in the burbs, a 401k that you’d never live long enough to enjoy. It wasn’t for most people, but I had somehow crossed the bridge from one side of the law to the other. I just didn’t know if the club would let me stay.

I pulled a picture of Kristine from my purse and placed it on the nightstand. I lay on the bed and stared at it. She was all I had left before she died. Our parents both passed away years ago from cancer. It made us close, and now there was only me. Cinder had to die, no matter how close I felt to the club.

Watcher left the bathroom, naked as usual, and climbed under the covers. The man had more ink than a crowd at a romance novel signing. Some of the ink made no sense to anyone but him, but he was okay with that. He said it mattered to him, and that was most important. I believed him.

“I guess what they say about you is true,” I said. I turned away from Kristine’s picture for the moment, though I would never turn my back on her.

“What’s that?” he asked. “That I’m great in bed. That’s it, isn’t it.”

“That you’ll fuck anything with a hole.” I ran my fingers through his beard and across the ink on his chest. The man knew his way around a woman—inside and out. “There’s a real possibility you’ll wake up in my bed one morning and be surrounded by FBI agents ready to take your ass off to prison. Probably won’t be by my doing, but it could happen.”

He reached beneath the covers and grabbed my pussy. “I don’t think you’d do that and miss out on this.” He gave my clit a little rub, and I laid a leg over his side.

“Is it true you once let six women peg you in a sex club?” I giggled and played with his beard. Watcher always wrinkled his nose in pleasure when I played with his beard. It was his way of saying good job. His actions always spoke louder than his words.

“Who told you that shit?” He smiled, saying yes without uttering a word. “Lapse in judgment.”

“Kinda takes away from your masculinity, doesn’t it?” I grabbed his dick, never wanting to let go. I wanted him to belong to me and not the whores who frequented the club, looking for a way in. It never ceased to amaze me what women would do to get their hands on a biker. However, I understood. Everything said about bikers was true…in a good way.

“I do whatever I want with whomever I want. It makes me who I am. I don’t live by anyone else’s rules except this club’s. The club doesn’t care what I do as long as I’m there when needed.” He rolled back and stared at the ceiling. “You try to kill Cinder, and you’ll have to answer for it. Better make that first shot count.”

“So you agree with me killing him?” I moved to an elbow and rested my head on my hand.

“A man should never raise a hand to a woman unless she’s into that kind of thing?” He grinned, and I turned onto my stomach.

I reached under the covers and patted my bare ass. “You know I’m going kill Cinder. I have to do it and you know as well as I do if the tables were turned, you’d do the same thing.”

Watcher pulled the covers down, revealing my ass. He slapped my ass with way too much pleasure. “I know, and I’ll be right there to stop you.” He moved to his knees next to my face, his cock hanging above my mouth. I kissed his balls and sucked them into my mouth. He moaned in pain but didn’t stop me. I released his balls and shoved his cock between my wet lips, letting my teeth slide against the soft skin. He grunted but again didn’t stop me. The man was a fucking perv and I’d just scraped the surface.

“What happens after Cinder?” Watcher asked. “Then what? Back to the FBI? Got a new club you’re going to fuck your way into?”

“Is that what you want me to do? Leave?” I kissed his dick, and he slid away. He sat on the bed.

“You want the truth?” Naked, he walked across the room and pulled two beers from the small fridge. “I want you to quit. Leave the FBI and join the club.”

“Someone’s got to make me their old lady.” I wasn’t fucking leaving a job I’d cherished all my life to be put out of the club in a week. I put in the time, the heart, the blood, and even the tears. I couldn’t make up my mind about what to do.

He waited a minute to reply, eyes narrowing on my naked body. Two things were certain when you were with a biker. First, you never knew what they might do, and secondly, you never knew what they might say.

“That’s an easy one. You belong to me.” He pointed at the floor at his feet. Treat a slave well and the slave will do whatever you ask.

I crawled from the bed and stood. Watcher shook his head. I moved to my hands and knees and crawled toward him and the golden body covered in ink. His dick hardened at my approach. I guessed the decision wasn’t so hard.

“You’re a leech,” I said. He cracked a sneaky smile. “You’re the only man to ever drain me of the very thing that makes me good at my job. You make me weak. You make me want to make this all about you. I’ve never believed in shit like that.”

Watcher chuckled and put his hand around his dick, stroking. “You don’t know me as well as you think, Trixie. You don’t know what I’ve done, and you sure as hell don’t know what I’m into.” He rubbed the top of my head. “Are you going to fix me like every woman before you tried? I don’t want to be fixed. I want to share.”

I put my hands on his thighs. Not once when I decided to find Kristine’s killer did I think I’d want to be part of the biker life. I hated them and what they stood for. I hated the things they did to the cities and people where they lived. I especially hated the way they treated their women, or, at least, the way I perceived them to treat their women.

I’d been wrong. Sure, they were at times motherfuckers, but Beast loved Skittles and did everything within his power to protect her. Diesel did the same for Gigi. Women wanted their independence, but they also wanted a man who’d put his arms around her and protect her from the world. Watcher was that man for me.

“I want you to show me those things,” I said. “I want to know everything about you.”

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